And he wanted to know if he was being followed.
No headlights showed in his rearview mirror. But he supposed Rasputin might be tailing him without headlights, so he made several random turns. A few times, he even swung over to the curb, shut off his lights and engine, and waited.
Nothing went by.
At last, he sped up the on-ramp to the Santa Monica Freeway, fairly certain that he wasn’t being followed. He headed west for only a couple of minutes before starting north on the 405 Freeway. The traffic was light and there would be no more turns for about half an hour, so he took a deep breath and tried to relax.
He felt as if he were starting off on a holiday trip – but also as if he were a fugitive on his way to a hideout.
Which is it? he wondered.
Both?
The two feelings seemed to conflict with each other, yet they each held a place in him.
He’d seen such things in the people he’d entered with the bracelet: they were packed with contradictions.
Maybe we all are, he thought.
Maybe not.
Neal himself seemed to have conflicting emotions and thoughts about nearly everything.
At least about the big stuff, he told himself. Like making this trip.
Leaving Marta . . .
He really hated to leave Marta behind.
On the other hand, there was a certain sense of freedom in the prospect of being far away from her.
He found himself daydreaming about their reunion.
He imagined entering her apartment after being gone for a week or two. She was wearing a T-shirt and nothing else – the same as Karen. She rushed into his arms and embraced him. ‘Oh, God, Neal, I was so worried about you.’ And he said, ‘I missed you so much, Marta’ And he slipped his hands under the hanging back of her shirt and curled his fingers over her buttocks. He felt their cool smoothness.
This is one of those mind-movies, he realized. Just like Karen had about Darren.
He supposed he’d always experienced such things.
The mind-movies, various internal conversations, the vague and wordless notions floating around in his head, plus a constant general awareness of his physical sensations and surroundings – they’d been part of his life all along, but he’d never paid any particular attention to them. They’d simply been the mixture of thoughts and feelings that lived inside him. He’d taken them for granted, never analyzed them.
Not until the bracelet came along.
He sure hoped his new awareness of the processes wouldn’t end up intruding too much on his own mind.
Like the way it just screwed up my nice little reunion with Marta . . .
He focused on where he’d left off in the fantasy.
They’d been embracing, relieved and happy about being together again, and he’d been going up underneath the back of her T-shirt, exploring her smooth bare skin.
He was there again, thinking about it as he drove north through the San Fernando Valley.
The back of her T-shirt lifted as his hands roamed higher. Soon, her buttocks were bare. In front, the shirt climbed above her waist.
He caressed the tops of her shoulders, then slipped a hand down her back and around her hip and down to the moist, warm cleft between her legs. He slipped a finger into her. She gasped and stiffened, the way she did in real life when he touched her that way.
Must feel awfully good for her, he thought.
Easy to find out. Just pay her a little visit with the bracelet sometime.
No way, he told himself. Tough to look her in the face again if I’d snuck inside and spied on her.
Besides, I couldn’t do it to her, even if I wanted to. I can’t be in her and touching her.
He wondered, though. There were probably ways . . .
Don’t even think about it.
All else aside, Neal realized that he might find out things that he didn’t want to know. Elise had been clear in her warnings about that: stay out of relatives, close friends and lovers.
An awfully good way to find out where you stand, though, he thought. If there’s a problem, better to find out about it before you get any more committed to her.
It’d be such a dirty trick.
He was opposed to doing it, but excited by the idea.
Bad enough, invading a total stranger like that.
He planned to invade plenty of those, as soon as he reached the Fort.
He could hardly wait.
You’ll have to wait, he told himself. No way to go bracelet-hitching on the freeway.
Unless I pull over.
Which didn’t seem like a great idea.
Just hold your horses, he thought. Wait till you’re inside a nice, safe hotel room.
Just after dawn, with the sun in his eyes, Neal stopped for breakfast at Sunny’s Café in the town of Mojave. Before leaving his car, he removed the pistol from his pocket and slipped off the bracelet. He stashed the gun in the glove compartment. He shoved the bracelet into the right front pocket of his trousers. Then he climbed out, stretched, and walked across the gravel parking lot to the restaurant entrance.
He was told by a middle-aged woman at the cash register to sit anywhere, so he picked a corner booth. It was large enough for four people. The place wasn’t crowded, though, so he felt okay about sitting there.
A waitress came along. A cute blonde gum-snapper who was probably not much older than eighteen. The name tag above her left breast indicated that her name was Sue.
‘You all there is?’ she asked.
‘Just me.’
‘Coffee?’
‘Yeah, please.’
‘Ya got it.’ She filled the mug, then handed him a plastic menu. ‘Back in a jiff.’ She swaggered away with her coffee pot. Her thick ponytail swished from side to side. So did her rump.
She wore a very short skirt.
How’d you like to ride her?
Shaking his head, Neal turned his attention to the menu. After a quick study of it, he decided on the Sunny Combo #1. It consisted of two eggs, bacon or sausage links, hash browns or home fries, and a choice of toast, an English muffin, or a bagel.
When Sue returned, he said, ‘I’ll have the number one combo.’
She jotted something down on a small pad. ‘How’d ya like yer eggs?’
‘Over easy.’
She jotted. ‘Ya got it.’
‘And I’ll have the sausage, the hash browns, and toast.’
Her pencil twitched. Neal could hear its point making quiet scratchy sounds on the paper. When her pencil stopped, she said, ‘Right, ya got it. What kinda toast? We got yer white, yer wheat, yer rye, yer raisin, or yer sourdough.’
‘Sourdough.’
She marked on the pad, gave her gum a couple of chews, and said, ‘What’d ya do to yer arms?’
‘What?’ Neal asked, and felt the hot surge of a blush.
‘Yer arms. Yer girl get ya?’
He glanced down at the scratches. ‘Yeah, she sure did.’ He quickly added, ‘She fell backward and tried to grab me. We were out on a boat yesterday and she lost her balance.’
‘She okay?’ Sue asked. ‘Didn’t drown or nothin?’
‘She got a little wet, that’s all. But I got myself torn apart by her lousy fingernails.’
He glanced at Sue’s hands. Her fingernails were chewed down to the quick.
Sue winced. ‘Musta hurt like shit.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Oops!’ She pursed her lips and pressed the pencil against them. ‘We ain’t supposed to curse. Against the rules.’
‘Well, I won’t tell.’
She cast him a wink. ‘Yer a sweetie.’ She tapped him on top of the head a couple of times with the eraser end of her pencil, then twirled around and swaggered toward the counter.
Neal found himself grinning as he watched her.
Maybe I should try giving her a ride, he thought. Must be pretty strange territory inside a mind like that.
Not necessarily enjoyab
le territory, but strange. And probably interesting.
Ought to do it, he told himself – if only for research.
He wondered about the logistics.
Try it right now?
He pictured his abandoned body at the table, tilting slightly, tilting a bit more, then toppling sideways onto the seat cushion and rolling onto the floor under the table.
That’d be real neat, he thought. Forget it.
He drank some coffee and looked around. In a booth across the room from him sat a couple of Highway Patrol officers.
He felt a kick of alarm.
They were facing each other, one eating and nodding while the other talked. Neal couldn’t hear what was being said. Must’ve been fairly amusing, though.
Afraid they might notice him staring, he looked away and drank some more coffee.
He wondered if he was a suspect yet.
Was there an APB out on him?
An All-Points-Bulletin would probably describe him and his car and give his license plate number. But he doubted it would include a photo of him. These officers, if they saw his face, weren’t likely to gasp and go for their guns.
I’d better check the news, he thought.
He didn’t want to hear about Elise’s murder, but he knew that he should at least turn on the car radio and find out what was being said about suspects.
Maybe they already got Rasputin.
I’ll do it, he decided. Soon as I’m done with breakfast.
When his breakfast arrived, he saw that the egg whites were runny.
‘Ya all set?’ Sue asked.
‘Fine,’ he said.
‘Get ya anything else?’
‘That’s about it.’
‘Ya got it, then.’ She winked at him, and spun away.
He lifted some egg white on the tines of his fork. The substance came up, clear and slimy, dangling like mucus. His appetite dwindled.
Good thing I’m by myself, he thought. If Mom was here, she’d make me send it back. Marta probably would, too.
He didn’t like to make trouble, though.
Especially not about a matter like this. In some places, ‘over easy’ got you fried eggs with runny yolks and firm, white whites – the way he liked them. In other places, though, ‘over easy’ got you a runny yolk and a white like snot.
This wasn’t the cook’s fault, or Sue’s. Neal should’ve ordered ‘over medium.’
He went ahead and ate his meal. All except the egg whites.
Sue came by, now and again, to fill his coffee mug and to ask if everything was okay.
‘Real good,’ he told her.
Finally, he stopped her from giving him another refill. ‘Better not,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a long drive ahead.’
‘Where ya goin?’
‘The Fort.’
‘Yeah? The Fort?’
‘Have you heard of it?’
‘Sure! Never been there, though. What they say, they got a rollycoaster’ll knock ya outa yer shorts. The Pony Express, that’s what they call it. The rollycoaster. Sure’d like to try it. I like rollycoasters.’ She grinned and chomped her gum.
‘So do I.’
‘Say what, how about lettin me come with ya?’
‘Come with me?’
‘Sure!’ She bobbed her head up and down. ‘How about it?’
‘Are you kidding?’
‘Hey, no. Me? What do ya say?’
‘What about your job?’
‘No biggie. Sunny’ll get ol’ Marge to fill in for me. I never been to the Fort. This’ll be so cool!’
This is crazy, Neal thought. Gotta talk her out of it.
‘I might not be coming back this way,’ he explained. ‘I mean, how’ll you get back?’
‘Easy. I’ll juss get me a ride. I get me rides all the time. Ain’t no one ever says no, not less he’s got his wife with him. So, how ’bout it?’
‘Well . . .’ He couldn’t think of a good excuse.
He didn’t want Sue to ride with him. He didn’t want any companion. He wanted to be alone. Besides, he found her a bit strange and scary. She seemed a little wild and unpredictable.
He also liked her, though. She seemed sweet. Even in her wildness, there was a certain innocence.
It’s asking for trouble, he told himself.
Just say no.
Yeah, sure. Easier said than done. I’d need to give her a reason, or she’ll just think I’m some sort of jerk.
Sue slung her hip to one side. ‘If ya don’t want me, just say so. I ain’t one to go where she ain’t wanted.’
‘No, no. It’s just sort of surprising, that’s all.’
‘Tell ya what, I’ll take care of yer meal.’ She plucked his bill from a pocket ot her apron. ‘Meet ya at yer car. What’s it look like?’
‘It’s the blue Ford.’
‘Catch ya in a jiff,’ she said. With a wink, she said, ‘Save yer tip.’ Then she swaggered toward the cashier.
‘Holy Moses,’ Neal murmured.
Twenty-Two
This is about as safe as picking up a hitchhiker, Neal thought as he hunted for the men’s restroom. I don’t know a thing about her. For all I know, she might be some sort of a lunatic.
Inviting herself to join his trip to the Fort was certainly not the act of a normal, rational young woman.
Should be interesting.
What if she’s a scam artist, or something? Even a thief? Her real plan might be to steal my car. Maybe she’s got confederates who’ll tail us for a few miles, then . . .
Neal found the men’s restroom. As he pushed the door open, the sight of his bare wrist reminded him of the bracelet.
Of course!
He was glad to see that this was a one-at-a-time toilet: only a single set of facilities, and a lock on the door.
He locked the door. Then he used the urinal.
After washing his hands, he put the bracelet on. He glanced at the toilet seat. It looked reasonably clean, but he was afraid he might fall off.
They should come with safety belts . . .
The only safe place was the floor, which looked a little grubby, but not disgusting. He pulled out a paper towel and placed it on the floor. Then he sat on it, leaned back against the door, brought his knees up and spread his legs, planting his feet on the floor to brace himself.
He felt like a bit of a fool.
‘Okay,’ he muttered, ‘let’s pay Sue a little visit.’ Then he kissed the bracelet.
He drifted up out of his body. No longer felt the hard floor under his rump or the door against his back or the stiff scabs on his knees and elbows or the soreness of his scratched arms. He felt as light as air.
Let’s go find her, he thought.
And zipped through the restroom door and straight into the body of a Highway Patrol officer.
And stuck.
The cop was slim and fit, but felt swollen and heavy in the bowels. He obviously needed a toilet – fast.
Shit! Neal thought.
Almost, the cop was thinking. Almost. Just hang on, old pardner, almost there. What the hell did I eat? Couldn’t be the breakfast. Just ate it, for Pete’s sake. Must be the onions in the chilli last night.
Charming, Neal thought.
The cop reached out, grabbed the knob of the men’s room door, and tried to turn it.
It didn’t turn.
Oh, no. Great. Now what’m I gonna do? Gonna shit my pants. Go to the gals’ John? Why not? Any port in a storm.
Hurrying toward the door to the women’s restroom, the officer pictured himself rushing in and finding himself face-to-face with a shocked female. She screams.
He suddenly imagined himself facing a board of inquiry.
‘You entered the LADIES’ room, Mr Jones. In uniform, no less.’
‘I’m aware of that, sir. But I had no choice. It was an extreme emergency, sir.’
Mr Jones grabbed the knob of the ladies’ restroom door and tried to turn it. The knob rattled. Frozen, locked.
/> Jones made a slight whimpering sound.
He quickly returned to the men’s room.
Gonna kick the fucker down.
No! Neal thought.
Outa here!
Neal crashed out of the cop’s body, through the door and into himself. He leaned forward fast and scooted away from the door, expecting it to explode open at any moment.
As he scampered to his feet, he heard a firm but calm knocking on the door. ‘Excuse me,’ the officer called. ‘I’m having a little problem out here. If you could speed things up for me, I’d sure . . .’
Neal unlocked the door and jerked it open.
Mr Jones, looking pale and sick, forced a smile. ‘Ah, thank you. You’re a life saver.’
‘Sorry I kept you waiting.’
As they stepped past each other, the cop said, ‘No problem. Thanks a million. Must’ve been the onions.’
‘Chilli?’
‘Watch out for the stuff,’ Jones said in a tight, strained voice, and shut the door.
Neal headed for the café’s exit.
Lord, he thought. That was sure a close one. For both of us. I’m lucky Jones showed some restraint.
Outside, he found Sue in the parking lot. She stood by his car, leaning back against it, her rump to the passenger door. Beside her feet was a large paper bag, folded down at the top.
She grinned when she saw him. ‘Hey, there ya are,’ she called.
‘Yep.’ He suddenly realized he was still wearing the bracelet.
Damn!
Too late to do anything about it. Sue couldn’t have avoided noticing the thick coil of gold around his wrist. If he tried to slip it into his pocket, at this point, she would only wonder why he wanted to hide it.
For now, she didn’t appear interested in his jewelry. She picked up her bag and stepped out of his way.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Neal asked as he unlocked the door for her.
‘Sure. Hey, what sorta name ya got?’
‘Neal.’
A corner of her mouth slipped high. ‘Just like in church, huh?’
‘It’s N-e-a-l.’ He opened the door for her, and stepped back.
‘Well, I’m Sue, but I reckon ya know that.’ With the tip of her forefinger, she tapped the nametag on her chest. ‘That’s me. Sue. It ain’t the name of my boob, in case yer wondering.’
Astonished, he shook his head.
‘I just say that on account of these guys, they get to thinkin how smart they are and go and ask me what I call my other one.’