“No, it isn’t, not by a long shot.” She stepped away from him, tightening the grip on the bottle.
He led her out of the forest. Squeezing her arm, he added, “Maybe in Pfluger Park you can show me the nice things you bought at Victoria’s Secret.”
She obediently went with him. Not that she had much choice. Maybe there were people in Pfluger Park. Maybe teenagers were there.
He kept his hand on her all the way to the car. It was dark even under moonlight, and there were many gravestones Didi would have tripped over if it hadn’t been for his helping her. He walked slightly in front of her, finding the way, holding her solicitously.
Losing herself for a moment, longing for help, she leaned into Lyle.
Save me, Didi prayed, my life from the power of the dog.
She was so grateful to sit down in the car that she threw her head back on the headrest and soon felt herself drifting off. She lost track of him for a short moment but was brought back to life by another violent pain in her belly.
The car kicked up a flurry of stones, speeding in the night toward Pfluger Park.
9:20 P.M.
They were in the air again, and Rich couldn’t sit still. All he wanted to do was pace. Scott, too, was jittery. He took off his load-bearing vest, and frantically spoke on the phone to a member of the San Angelo police force and the sheriff at Eden, asking for reinforcements to come to the home of the Blecks on Wyona Avenue in Eden. He had already instructed the SWAT men from Abilene to drive to the tiny town.
When he got off the phone, he said nervously, shoving a stick of gum in his mouth, “Rich, we got him, man, we got him.”
“We got nothing,” said Rich.
“No, you were right, man. That’s where he’s going. Eden.”
“Going? Yes. Staying? He isn’t going over to shoot the breeze with the in-laws.”
“No, but our Lyle is obsessed with ending up in Eden. Think about it. He wasn’t going to change his course for anything. He’s on the run, he knows we’re on to him, he knows he doesn’t have much time. So what does he do? Nothing. Changes cars. But continues on. Why? Because there’s something in Eden he wants.”
Yes, Rich thought, to kill my wife, but couldn’t say the words out loud.
“It’s dark now,” he said. “Where will we find them?”
“Let’s talk to the Blecks first,” said Scott. “They’ll tell us.”
Rich tried to see in the dark. Wasn’t it dangerous to fly a helicopter at night? What if something hit them? He didn’t care. Let something hit them. Where was his Didi?
Rich said, “Why don’t we call ahead this time?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Well, yes,” said Rich, shrugging.
“You may have something.”
Perplexed, Rich watched as Scott got the Blecks’ number from information. “The phone’s ringing. What do you want me to say, Rich?”
Rich grabbed the phone away from Scott. “What, are you crazy? Yeah, and why don’t you tell them how many federal agents are going to be at the scene, while you’re at it.”
Scott grabbed the phone back. “Why do you think you’re the only smart one around here?” He listened into the phone. “Ah, shit. It’s an answering machine.”
Shaking his head with disbelief, Rich said, “Hey, leave a message.”
“Hello?” said Scott. “Mr. and Mrs. Bleck, this is Scott Somerville with Federal Express. We have a package here for you. We’d like to know when is the best time to deliver it to you. You can reach us at…”
After Scott hung up, Rich stared at him for a few moments. “Does that ever work?”
Scott smiled, dialing another number. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”
“What if he’s there?”
Scott stopped smiling. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”
9:30 P.M.
Didi noticed a twitch at the corner of Lyle’s lower lip as he drove out of the cemetery. She hadn’t seen it before, but it was pronounced enough that she noticed it in the darkened interior of the car.
He spoke to her soothingly. “Don’t worry, Didi. Don’t worry. Everything will be all right. I think you’ll be pleased with the way it will turn out.”
Didi barely listened to him. Okay; she thought, anytime the good Lord wants to make His plan clear to me, He can. I open the car door on I-75. I scream to Rich. I call 911. I jump out of Lyle’s car. I hit Lyle in the head—and nothing. It’s almost as if—
As if—
She couldn’t think it. Couldn’t think the words.
As if I’m meant to die.
How close do I have to get? I’m in the car, and he is next to me. Is that close enough? She looked over at Lyle. She remembered praying for his soul earlier in the day, an eternity ago. Gradually, she had stopped wanting to pray for him and had started to pray for herself. Now, after a day with Lyle, she didn’t want to pray for him, she didn’t want to pray for herself.
She wanted to kill him.
Clutching the beer bottle neck between her manacled hands, she was consumed with the notion of killing him. Come here, Lyle. Come closer to me. Come closer so I can kill you. How many chances will you give me? And if I have only one chance, will I take it? She moaned under the weight of her helplessness.
I talk the talk, but can I walk the walk? At the cemetery, when he was splayed in front of me sobbing, I took pity on him, and for what? She squeezed the sharp glass tighter. Case in point—when I finally did hit him, he barely flinched.
Am I a person who can kill another human being? Has my life led me to be a person who can kill another human being? She shuddered.
No.
Too late to think about it. She had another contraction. She couldn’t keep track of time. Since they’d returned to the car, she’d had three contractions. How many minutes had it been?
Lyle said something she barely heard. “What?” she asked weakly.
“Didn’t I tell you? Bad things happen to good people, often for no reason.”
“Lyle, but that’s not true!” Didi exclaimed. “Bad things are not happening to me for no reason. They’re happening to me because of you.” Didi thought about it and said, “You must think bad things happened to you for no reason.”
“Think?” he exclaimed. “They did happen to me for no reason.” Lyle didn’t look at Didi. “I was a lonely kid. My old man and I never got along. When I met Mel, I thought my life had finally worked out. We lived an okay life. A nice, normal life. What do you think you would do, Desdemona, if your husband and kids were killed and you were left with nothing?”
“Do you think I would take my heartbreak out on you?” she exclaimed. “No. I might take my own life—”
He said, “You wouldn’t. God-fearing people don’t do that.”
I don’t fear God, only His silence, Didi thought. And I fear you, you piece of shit.
Another contraction was starting.
“Well, I might go crazy then or something!” she said shrilly, raising her voice in sync with the terrible pain of the contraction. “Ahh,” she cried. “Ahh.” The words came out plaintive, wailing, screeching. “But Lyle, why would I want to hurt you? You did nothing to me. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“That’s what you think,” he said, turning left off the dark highway onto an even darker road. “And how would you know? Your life’s been so easy—” He paused. “Till now. How do you know what you might do?”
Didi held her hands on her belly and half listened to him, half tried to stave off fear. “What can I do for you, Lyle?” she said. “Do you want me to go to Mazatlán with you?”
He didn’t answer her, and then the car stopped. Didi peered into the trees illuminated by the headlights. The place looked as deserted as the cemetery. They had exchanged one graveyard for another.
“Get out of the car, Didi.”
When they were outside, standing near a small picnic area, Didi asked, kneading the beer bottle neck in her hands. “Are we in Pflu
ger Park?”
“Yes,” he replied as he quickly walked around. Didi assumed he was searching the area for people. He held a gun in each hand. God help anyone who’s here, Didi thought.
Is he going to shoot me? I’ll never even get close to him. Horrified at that moment of never getting her chance at him, she walked toward him, and he whirled around to face her. “What are you doing, Didi?” he asked hotly.
“Nothing, Lyle. Walking to you.”
“Well, don’t. I don’t trust you anymore. My head fucking hurts because of you.” He moved closer. “What were you hoping for? Were you hoping to kill me?”
“No,” she said. “Just disable you long enough to get to the road.”
“Then why did you run to the woods?”
“Because you didn’t seem disabled and the road was a long way off.”
He reached out and touched her chin. Didi willed herself not to move away. Her belly tensed, beginning another contraction.
“You’re not stupid, are you, Didi?”
“No,” she said in a small voice.
“Neither am I. I’m not stupid either. Despite your idiotic Desdemona hints. I thought out everything. I planned for everything. The only thing I wasn’t planning on was that damn cop. Otherwise everything would have gone so smooth.”
Didi was caving over. Thank God it was dark by the side of the car and Lyle couldn’t see her pain-distorted face.
“Lyle?” Didi said. “I’m not feeling so good—”
“How do you think the handcuffs felt against my head?” he retorted malevolently. “You deserve worse.”
“I’ve been getting worse,” Didi said loudly.
Lyle looked at her, almost surprised. “What’s the matter with you?”
She took one step toward him, fiddling with the bottle. “I’m so big and pregnant,” she rasped. “What could I possibly do to you?”
He took one step back. “I was thinking of tying you to the tree. Would you like that better?”
Shaking her head, Didi said she needed a bathroom.
She knew there were no bathrooms. What she wanted was to lie down. Lie down at the bottom of a freshwater lake. Drink, give birth, die.
The thought of dying made her slightly less thirsty.
“I’m going to go sit down on the bench right there, okay?” Didi said as she turned away, making her way down to a picnic table close to the car. She heard Lyle following her. “You’re limping,” he said. “You’re walking kind of funny. What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m just tired, Lyle. Very, very tired, and nine months pregnant.”
Didi sat down. Lyle sat a few feet away from her. “Are you cold? I’ll make a fire.”
“The air is standing still, it’s so hot. I’m not cold, Lyle. Where would you get that idea?”
He reached over and touched her forehead with his fingertips. “You feel clammy. You’re wet with cold sweat.”
She sat still, not moving away from him. That’s nice, she wanted to say. That’s real nice. Come a little closer. She squeezed the bottle neck between her hands. A little closer, Lyle.
He took his hand away. “I’ll make a fire.”
Shrugging, she tried to adjust her eyes to the dark. The car’s headlights shone, but they were pointing away from them and into the trees. If it were lighter, she could have made out a road somewhere, other trees. But aside from the headlights, blackness surrounded her. She thought making a fire was a crazy idea in this stupefying heat, but a fire was something someone would see. Someone might come over, ask if they were out of their minds making a fire.
Lyle came back and sat next to her again. “You know, Mel and me made a fire here the first time we came to the park. It was summer and dark, like it is now. It was hot but we didn’t care. We had a really nice night.”
Didi said nothing.
She saw Lyle peering intently into the trees. “What are you listening to?” asked Didi.
“Shh. I want to hear if they’ve found us. Don’t speak.”
Didi huddled in the far corner of the table, while Lyle sat on top of the table with his feet on the seat and loaded a cartridge into his Colt. Then he sat with both guns cocked and listened. After a few moments he uncocked the guns, placed the police revolver on the table, and turned to Didi. “It’s quiet. That’s what I love about Eden—you can hear everything. Crickets, cars, police sirens. They aren’t here. We’ll wait for a little while longer and then we’ll go. It’s not far from here.”
“What’s not far?”
“It’s only half a mile through the woods—you just have to know which way to walk.” Lyle seemed to be watching her carefully, and then he moved over and touched her face. “I used to like touching Mel’s face,” he said.
How did she feel about it? wondered Didi.
Lyle said, “What do you think your husband is feeling now?”
“Must be scared shitless,” said Didi without hesitating. “Much like me.”
“If you were to die, how do you think he’d feel?”
There was no answer to his question. Certainly no answer she wanted to give him. They weren’t talking about an abstract notion. They were talking about her dying.
“Maybe what I want,” said Lyle slowly, “is to make him, feel how I felt when Mel died.”
“I don’t know why. You don’t know him at all. Why would you want to hurt him?”
“Why would God want to hurt me?”
“God knows you,” Didi said. “He’s the only one with answers for that one.”
She thought. “Besides, that’s bogus, Lyle. You didn’t know I was married. I could have been a single mother on welfare, really unhappy and very alone.”
He shook his head. “You looked really happy, Desdemona.”
People had said that to her before. They said she radiated marriage.
“Tell me, Didi, if your husband came just in the nick of time to rescue you and saved you from me and shot me dead in cold blood, tell me, would you…” He seemed at a loss for words. “Would you—cry for me?”
“Yes, Lyle, I would.” She couldn’t tell if she was lying. Couldn’t feel if she was lying. I’d cry for me more, though, she thought. Cry in relief for my beloved life.
“Would you go back home, back to your life, and forget me?”
“Forget you? Are you kidding me? No, I wouldn’t forget you.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t suppose you would. I’m going to make it very hard for your husband to ever forget me. Kind of the way I myself stopped believing in God, but I haven’t forgotten Him.”
Didi shook her head mournfully. “Yes, you have, Lyle,” she said. “Yes, you have.”
“No, Desdemona,” said Lyle, almost gleefully. “God has forgotten you.”
Our night isn’t over yet, Didi thought, helplessly clutching her lousy bottle.
“A fire sounds nice,” she said.
“Does, doesn’t it. But I’m not going to build it. Don’t want any curious teenagers coming to visit us, do we?”
“Don’t we?” Didi said wanly. Her eyes were glazing over. She was having another contraction. “Ahhh,” she moaned, and he saw and his eyes narrowed. “What?” he said. “You’re in pain?”
“My eye hurts,” Didi said. “It’s just throbbing. I need to get it stitched up.”
Ruefully, Lyle smiled, stroking her face. “Don’t worry, Desdemona. It will be all right soon.”
She screamed and it hurt worse. “Stop it!” she screamed. “Stop threatening me!” She nearly fell sideways onto him, catching herself only at the last second, holding back, the broken bottle neck shifting in her twisted hands. She was at such an awkward angle. She would have succeeded only in hurling herself off the bench, possibly swiping him as she fell to the ground.
He said, “I’m not being kind enough.”
“Kind?” she gasped. And then the contraction was over. She calmed down. “No, Lyle. You aren’t being kind enough.”
“Let’s pretend to make th
at fire, Didi,” he said. “It will make you feel better. We’ll take a little walk, we’ll talk about your life if you like. We have a little time, but not much.” He seemed to be listening to the silence again. “I think I have more faith in your husband than you do. We don’t want any surprises.” Getting up, he extended his hand to her.
Didi didn’t take the hand and got up off the bench by herself.
The two walked back to the car. He reached into it and turned off the lights. At first they were left in near darkness. Then Didi’s eyes adjusted to the night. She made out the shapes of trees, the moon up above, and Lyle as he approached her.
Didi’s handcuffed hands were intertwined together in front of her. She thought, I don’t care if I have to dislocate my thumb or break it off, but I must free one of my hands.
Lyle took her by the upper arm and said, “Walk with me. Walk with me into the woods.”
No, she thought. No. I can’t go with him anywhere. I have to stay near the car. He is not Winnie-the-Pooh, and I’m not Piglet. This is not the Hundred Acre Wood. I have to stay right here. “Lyle—”
She was almost glad he was holding her arm when the pain gripped her. She doubled over and moaned.
Lyle let go of her, and she fell to her knees on the gravelly road. For a minute she moaned on the ground in front of him as he stood and watched. Then it was done.
“Get up,” he said.
He didn’t help her. Didi got up with difficulty, pressing her hands against her knees to steady herself.
“Okay, what’s wrong with you?”
“I just have a little stomachache. I haven’t eaten, haven’t drank,” Didi said, in a voice rasping with thirst. Her throat felt as if it were bleeding. “I’m not feeling great.”
He looked tense and suspicious. “Are you having those … baby pains?” he said uncertainly.
“No, no, nothing like that. Believe me, you’d know those,” Didi managed to say in a calm voice. “Can’t hide those. They’re vicious.” She was not going to tell this man she was in labor.
Baby pains, he had said. Didi’s head tottered. When is this all going to end? When is it all going to end badly. It was not a question. Something inside Didi was ready to part with life. Oh, but