lying under the cake table. He went to her, and the bride came along, hitting him and asking her question.
'Cindy,' Blackburn said, nudging the woman under the table with his foot. 'Come out and tell Eleanor why I shot Steve.'
The woman didn't move, so Blackburn cocked the Python. Then she came out and stood. The bride stopped hitting Blackburn and faced the woman.
'Why?' the bride asked.
The woman in the yellow dress began crying.
Blackburn thought that was a copout, but he supposed that she would have to confess sooner or later. He left her there with the bride and headed for the door, which was clear now. Halfway there, a boy on the floor clutched his ankle and held up a cloth bag.
'Is this what you want?' the boy asked.
'No,' Blackburn said.
'Is this what you want?' the boy asked again. He asked it three more times, so Blackburn took the bag to shut him up. The boy released his ankle, and Blackburn went outside.
In the parking lot, a man behind a pickup truck took a shot at Blackburn with a rifle. The bullet went through the cloth bag and sprayed bits of masonry from the wall of the Lions Club building. Blackburn ran for the Valiant, firing two shots into the pickup truck.
He threw the bag and the pistol into the Valiant, jumped in, and started the engine as the rifleman came out from behind the pickup. Blackburn grabbed the Python with his left hand and fired out the window. The rifleman ducked back behind the truck. Blackburn backed the Valiant from its parking space, put it in Drive, and stomped the accelerator. He saw the rifleman again in the rearview mirror, so he reached outside and fired the Python's last shot backward. The recoil hurt his wrist, but the bullet shattered the pickup's side window, and the rifleman dove behind another car.
Blackburn sped north out of Goodland, away from I-70, watching for sheriff's deputies and the Kansas Highway Patrol. He steered with his knees while he reloaded the Python. He was operating on an intense sugar buzz. He turned east when he reached U.S. Highway 36 and switched cars in the town of Atwood. It was only then that he looked into the cloth bag that the boy had given him.
It contained the money from the dollar dance. Some of the men had paid tens and twenties to dance with the bride. There was even one fifty.
Blackburn couldn't go to Kansas City or anywhere else along I-70 for a while, so instead he headed into Nebraska via a tortuous route of county and country roads. As he drove, he considered finding out Eleanor's last name so he could mail the money to her. After all, he wasn't a thief. He did steal the occasional automobile, but that was a necessity. He hadn't meant to steal from Eleanor. He had only meant to see her receive justice. He wouldn't want her to think otherwise.
After consideration, however, Blackburn decided to keep the money himself. Eleanor, he had realized, wouldn't want it. There wasn't going to be a honeymoon anyway.
SIX
On the day after he killed his eleventh man, Blackburn decided to have a vasectomy. That was because the Monday
It wasn't that he regretted what he had done. Late Sunday, Number Eleven had run over a dog and had made a hash mark in the air with his finger, so Blackburn had driven after him and killed him at the next red light. It had been quick-one.357 bullet through the side window, and the light had changed. Blackburn had rolled up his own window and driven on. No one had seen. Kansas City was dead on Sunday nights.
Number Eleven had deserved what he had gotten, but Blackburn thought it sad that the man had fathered four children who would now be warped by his cruelty in life and his ugly death. With that thought, Blackburn realized that he himself would not make an exemplary father and that he might die an ugly death of his own.
After his experience with Dolores, he doubted that he would ever take another wife. But he had a sex drive as strong as that of any other twenty-four-year-old man, and women found his sandy hair and blue eyes attractive, so there would be girlfriends and one-nighters. He could not allow himself to impregnate them.
Paying for the operation might be a problem. Upon arriving in Kansas City in September, he had spent most of his cash on documents identifying him as Arthur B. Cameron, and the rest on a scabrous 1970 Dart. He had then landed his job at Bucky's Burgers, but in two months of work, he had saved only fifty dollars. He would have to find a clinic that performed cheap sterilizations.
During his afternoon break, he went into Bucky's office and looked through the Yellow Pages. He found what he needed under the heading of 'Birth Control':
Responsible Reproduction of Kansas City
*Pregnancy Testing*
*Birth Control/Family Planning*
*Abortion Counseling and Services*
*Vasectomies*
*Fees Scaled to Income*
*Open Noon to 10:00 P.M. Weekdays*
The ad was followed by a telephone number and a mid-town address. Blackburn's one-room basement apartment had no phone, and he didn't want to call from Bucky's, so he decided to visit Responsible Reproduction after work. He spent the rest of the afternoon in a state of anticipation, knowing that he was about to give a great gift to the world.
Stinking of deep-fryer grease, Blackburn pushed open a glass door embedded with wire mesh and found himself in a room illuminated by fluorescent tubes. Plastic chairs lined the walls. Most were occupied by women, a few of whom clutched the hands of nervous men. Three toddlers sat on the linoleum floor playing with G.I. Joe dolls. An odor of medicine mixed with Blackburn's own smell.
He approached a middle-aged woman who sat at a desk beside a doorway. A sign on the desk read ELLEN DUNCAN. 'Ms. Duncan,' Blackburn said, 'my name is Arthur Cameron. I want a vasectomy.'
Ms. Duncan opened a drawer and brought out a pamphlet that she pushed across to him. It was entitled 'Facts to Consider About Vasectomy (Male Sterilization).'
Blackburn took the pamphlet and gave it a glance. 'Thank you,' he said, 'but I've considered the facts, and I've decided to have the operation. Could you tell me how much it will cost?'
Ms. Duncan frowned. 'Our urologists charge Responsible Reproduction a hundred and ninety-five dollars. The amount that we pass on to the patient varies according to what he can afford.' She paused. 'Pardon me for asking, but have you discussed this with your spouse?'
'I'm not married.'
'Are you in a long-term relationship?'
'No.'
'Have you any children?'
'No.' Blackburn wondered what these questions had to do with anything.
'Mr. Cameron,' Ms. Duncan said, 'our mission is to make family planning services available to those who couldn't afford them otherwise. We provide vasectomies to men who have consulted with
