Blackout (11 page)

They inflated the cuff, then deflated and
removed it. In low voices, they talked figures back and forth. She
kept her eyes closed. When they asked if there was anything she
needed, she couldn’t answer. What could they do? Erase the past?
Then they were gone.

Someone had lowered her bed so it was almost
flat. She found the button and raised it to a sitting position. Her
head didn’t want to cooperate. She had to wait until it
steadied.

Her feet came next. They had something on
them. Some kind of sock things. They would keep her from walking on
the bare floor.

There was a fence in the way. Like a railing.
She couldn’t make it move, and so she had to move herself toward
the foot of the bed, to get past it. She slid her legs over the
side.

Again, she had to steady herself. This was
taking too long. She had to do it before someone else came barging
in. If they caught her this time, they would tie her to the bed. No
one seemed to understand how it was. She kept hoping they wouldn’t
send in Dr. Schiff.

She had forgotten about the tubes. How could
she forget the one in her hand? It was covered with tape. She
worked the tape loose, and then pulled it off. That took time, and
it hurt.

The tube hurt even more but finally it was
out. She didn’t care if she left a mess.

The next tube was down there. She couldn’t
feel it until she got it out. That was it? No more tubes?

She gripped the rolling table next to her
bed. It didn’t give much support. It was meant for holding dinner
trays, not her weight, and it had legs on only one side, with
casters.

Gradually she straightened her knees, then
her back. She was standing, keeping hold of the table. She couldn’t
put pressure on it, but it gave her moral support. Slowly, with the
table’s help, she inched her way toward the window. It was only a
few feet but it felt like eternity.

The windowsill was covered with some kind of
grillwork. Air blew up through it. Not frigid, not warm, just air.
The blind was closed. She couldn’t possibly raise it. She had to
save her strength for the window and hoped it wasn’t locked.

Why would it be locked? Nobody could get in
that way. She could tell from what she saw in the daytime that she
wasn’t on the ground floor. She pushed herself up under the
blind.

She ought to leave a note. But she’d done
that the first time. Her motive ought to be clear enough to anyone
who knew what happened. And who in the world, or at least in
Southbridge, didn’t?

The window had handles, one on each side. She
grasped them and pulled upward.

It rose more easily than she expected.

Chapter
Nine

Another dismal day without my car.

What would I do if I still didn’t have it by
the time school started? I would have to take the bus! There wasn’t
anybody up where I lived who took the bus to Southbridge High. They
mostly went to Lakeside or had a car, or both. This really
sucked.

I called the service manager, Mr. Patton, at
Barger Brothers.

It sounded as if he was chewing on something,
maybe a good excuse. Finally, he said, “That depends.”

“On what?” I asked.

“When did you bring it in?”

“Do you mean there’s big long line waiting
for service?”

“Give me your name again.” That was an order,
not a request. I gave him my name.

I could almost see him flipping pages in his
order book. I knew they kept it all in a looseleaf binder.

“We had to order a part,” he said.

“Yes, I know that. They wouldn’t tell me what
part or how long it would take.”

“Depends,” he said. “Car needs a new
engine.”

“A new—” I felt myself choking. I thought I
was having a heart attack.

“Can take a while,” he said, unmindful of my
distress. “We’re looking for a used one to save you some
money.”

“How much—do you think—” Then I had a clearer
thought. “I want one that’s going to work. And will go on working
for the next ten years.” By that time, maybe I could afford a new
car.

“We’ll give you a call when it’s ready,” he
promised.

My head went on spinning. I had a crazy
thought about going and living with Cree. She could walk to school
from her house. It was only one more year. We could walk together
and keep each other company.

Now I missed Ben as much as she did. If he
were here, I could ride to school with him.

No, I couldn’t. Not when he’d already
graduated.

If it weren’t for Evan, I would still be at
Lakeside. I could easily walk there from home and usually did.

Then I started thinking about Kelsey. She was
supposed to go to some college in Massachusetts. Mt. Holyoke, I
thought. Would she still do that? Would she be ready? If I were
her, I wouldn’t want to go anywhere ever again. At least she’d be
far away from Southbridge and anyone who knew her. As long as that
turd didn’t put her pictures back on the Internet.

How I missed Rick. If his hostage situation
were over, he would have called me. Unless they had a big long
debriefing, or something. Even then, I couldn’t get a picture of
him and Rosie out of my mind. Sitting with the others at a big long
table, talking, listening, and holding hands.

Was that an accurate picture? The hands? Why
did my brain have to focus on it? Or bring it up to begin with?
Curses.

I tried to call Phil Reimer and ask about the
hostage situation, like if it was still going on and where.
Couldn’t get him and nobody else answered his phone. Probably it
was top secret anyway, to keep away gawkers who might get hurt and
would certainly be in the way.

My call to the garage seemed to work. Or I
liked to think it did. By mid-afternoon they got back to me. My car
was ready!

“Are you sure?” I asked. “A nice new engine?
Firmly in place?”

“Well, not exactly new.” It was Mr. Patton
again. “I explained about that.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “As long as it lasts
forever.”

“Ninety-day guarantee.” He seemed proud of
that.

Who was I to argue? I called Rhoda, hoping
she’d be home before they closed.

“I’m sorry, honey. I have a late appointment
this afternoon. You don’t need it tonight, do you? I can drop you
off there tomorrow morning.”

I didn’t need it that night, but I wanted it
all safe at home. Once again, I couldn’t argue. Rhoda’s
appointments were her livelihood. And someone else’s sanity. How
could there be so many neurotic people in the world? Why weren’t
they all nice and normal, like—ahem—me?

I tried calling Cree, just in case she felt
like borrowing her grandmother’s car and driving several miles to
pick me up.

She wasn’t even home. Nor was the car,
because Cree had it. Her grandma didn’t know where she’d gone. I
thought Grandma kept close track of the car, if not her
granddaughter. Apparently, she had learned to relax a little.

I called the garage, told them I couldn’t get
there until morning, so please would they put it in a safe place
and keep the keys in their office.

It was Wally I spoke with that time. “Will
do, pussycat.”

It made him laugh, me treating the ratty old
Chevy as if it were a Rolls Royce. Hey, I was paying through the
nose for that new engine. A girl had to protect her investment.

I fiddled with my computer, not really seeing
it, till Daddy came home. I explained about Rhoda being late and
together we heated some beans.

By morning, I still hadn’t heard from Rick.
How could the hostage guy hold out so long? Didn’t he have to eat
and sleep and go to the bathroom?

Or was Rosie keeping Rick occupied? Maybe I
didn’t want to know.

I had to brace myself once again for being
boyfriendless. But this was different from when I dumped Evan. I
really cared for Rick. Okay, I loved him. I even had dreams of a
whole future together.

Probably that was stupid. As Rhoda constantly
pointed out, I was only seventeen. So what? I’d found out from a
distant relative that Rhoda herself was seventeen when she got
engaged to Daddy. I never told her I knew, but believe me, I filed
it away. Now wasn’t the time to confront her, not until I knew
where I stood with Rick. He might have woken up and realized I was
just a high school kid, while Rosie was—good grief, she was
married, divorced, and a mother. That’s old.

Someday maybe I would be a mother. But not
divorced. Not if I married Rick.

The garage opened at eight. Rhoda had a nine
o’clock appointment, so she wanted to drop me off in time to reach
her office by then. Her office was in Ossining, not too far from
us, but not right next door either.

I was ready by seven-thirty. That was
actually no worse than a school morning. As soon as we got to
Barger Brothers, I looked around in back and saw my car there.
Outside.

I had specifically asked for a
safe
place.
They must have thought their parking lot was safe. They
didn’t know Evan. Or his cronies.

Come to think of it, the time he cut the
brake line, it had been parked outside at home. Right next to my
house. No place was safe from Evan.

Rhoda stayed with me until I finished paying.
It took all of my credit card and a good bit of hers. It also took
what seemed like forever. She got fidgety but finally was able to
leave in plenty of time for her appointment.

“Your car’s right out in back,” Wally told
me.

“Yes, I saw it there. I asked for a safe
place. Aren’t there any safe places inside?”

That called for a laugh. “Inside? That’s a
work area. It’s all finished. Doesn’t need more work.”

“I’ve been having some trouble with somebody
who hates me,” I explained. “Remember when it got towed in with the
brake line cut?”

He didn’t remember. I knew they had a few
other customers besides me.

His face crinkled with amusement. “You’re
perfectly safe here at Barger’s, pussycat. Go and enjoy your new
engine.”

At least they hadn’t left the keys in it. He
gave them to me and I went outside to take the old biddy home.

I thought of it as female, but maybe it
wasn’t. Cree’s grandmother gave her car a name. She called it
Archie. When I told that to Ben, he suggested I name mine Rufus
because it was red. He said Rufus was a Roman name meaning
“red-haired.” My car didn’t have hair and I couldn’t think of it as
Rufus, so I didn’t bother.

“Okay, nameless one.” I said, and inserted
the key.

It didn’t turn.

I tried it the other way, and it locked.

I ran back into the office. “Mr. Wally!”

In the service bay, he popped out from behind
a green Jeep. “What’s the matter, pussycat?”

“I am not a pussycat and my car was unlocked!
How could they leave it outside
unlocked?
Overnight!”

He looked totally baffled and somewhat
appalled. As if I’d said I found a body in it. “Who did?” he
asked.

“Whoever put it out there. I said I wanted it
safe.
That would include locking it, I would think,
considering your parking lot is wide open to the whole world.”

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“I haven’t tried it yet and I’m not going to
without a thorough inspection. The person who cut my brake line is
still at large.”

That made it sound as if Evan was some kind
of escaped monster. Okay, if it acts like a monster. . . .

Wally was still trying to digest that when I
asked him to take a look at it. I had no intention of getting in
the car until somebody went over it. I never thought I’d miss Ben
so much. He was the one who found the cut brake line that time.

“Uh, pussycat, we’re kinda busy right now.”
He emphasized it with a look at his watch.

“Then I’ll have to leave it here until
somebody has the time.” I could take a taxi home but I really
wanted to stay and watch while somebody went over it.

I added, “It can’t take more than five
minutes to check the basics.”

How much did I know about it? Not one thing.
I desperately needed to study auto mechanics.

Wally scratched his head. Way to get grease
in your hair. He asked, “What do you want looked at?”

“Everything that could be sabotaged that
would put me in danger. Brakes, steering. I’m sure you would
know.”

That worked, appealing to his superior
knowledge. I didn’t grow up with a brother for nothing.

We walked out together. He hoisted up the
hood and peered into the engine. I did, too. No time like the
present to start my education.

He showed me where the brake fluid went and
how it was carried to the brakes. The power steering, too, was AOK.
Also the spark plugs. I knew about those. I’d had trouble with them
before. That, for a change, was not Evan’s fault.

Wally checked everything he could easily
reach, which I had to assume was all Evan could easily reach, and
pronounced it in working order.

“Satisfied now, pussycat?”

Not quite. I asked him to start it for me. He
chuckled, and did. Nothing blew up. It was not that I wanted to
endanger him. I didn’t want me in danger, either, and he was
laughing
at me. I couldn’t help being annoyed about
that.

Still laughing, he went back to his green
Jeep and I tried once again to get Rick.

Not even voicemail. He never turned off his
phone. Was it still that hostage taker? Why didn’t they just
teargas the guy? It wouldn’t hurt the children permanently.
Probably a lot less permanently than being held hostage. Maybe he
had electric fans set up in all the windows to blow it back at the
cops. Maybe he was holding the children at gunpoint. Again, I
wondered where in Southbridge this was taking place. Who in
Southbridge would do such a thing? Nobody I knew, except maybe
Evan. I didn’t by any means know all or even most of the people in
my town. Not with a population in the thousands.