Children of Paranoia (35 page)

We were about nine hours from Chicago, but I didn't want to get there for another two days. Once in Chicago, maybe I could find a job. Maybe there we could find a cheap apartment. Maybe there we could settle down for a bit. It sounded nice, but it was a lot of maybes.

For the next two days, the idea was simply to avoid cities and lay low. I didn't want you to have to spend too long in any one stretch in the car. It wasn't healthy. I'd started to notice your changes. You needed a lot more sleep. Your appetite was voracious. The way you'd been eating, we'd eat our way through the supplies we'd brought in two days. We'd do some meals on the road. We'd only go to places far off the highway, though. The highway was dangerous. People would be traveling to try to find us. We wanted to stay away from those people. You tried to hide it from me, but I could tell that you were nauseous. You weren't throwing up, but I would catch you clutching your stomach with a pained look on your face. I assumed this all was normal. I hoped it all was normal.

That first day was pleasantly uneventful. So was that night. We ate breakfast at some little diner in some corn-fed town in the middle of the state. We hit the highway again for a few hours, heading west. The highway made me nervous. I felt a lot better when we were off the road. We stopped in at a gas station and I bought a detailed map of the state. The gas prices were going to eat into our cash pretty quickly, but we didn't have much of a choice. If we had to, we could have tried to siphon some from another car at night. It would be safer later. For now, we just needed to stay invisible.

You slept during most of the car ride. We stopped once during the day. I passed the map to you and you devoured it. You marked every exit. You announced every sight that we passed, whether we could see it from the road or not. I told you that I thought we should get some exercise, so you led us off the highway to some state park you found on the map. We did a two-mile hike around a creek. It was good to stretch our legs. My wound was healing well. The two miles knocked you out again. Once back in the car, you were asleep in minutes, the map unfolded in your lap.

I counted every hour that we went unnoticed. Every one was another hour closer to our being forgotten. It wasn't about distance, just time. That afternoon we crossed into Ohio. We took another random exit in Ohio to find a cheap place for dinner. The money was quickly dwindling. The night was clear again, so we found another deserted place on the side of a back road to sleep. I watched you as you slept that night. I felt so guilty. You were seventeen, pregnant, and homeless. We were floating on the edges of civilization, hoping no one would find us. One day I'll bring you back to civilization. I just don't know when.

That night, we made love for the first time since we'd told each other our secrets. You climbed into my sleeping bag with me. It was so much warmer with both of us inside one bag. We clumsily undressed each other from the waist down, leaving our sweatshirts on to fight off the cold night air. We kissed. The sleeping bag fit snug around us with both of us inside it. Our movements were restricted but we could move enough. We moved slowly, carefully. It was different. We were different people now. Before we were innocent people playing a dangerous game. Now we were dangerous people, doing the most innocent, primal thing we could imagine. Near the end, you bit down on your lip and your body shuddered but you didn't make a sound. The whole sleeping bag shook with you. When we were done you cried.

The next day was more of the same. We were plodding through a twelve-hour drive, trying to stretch it into three days without actually stopping anywhere. You found another place on the map where we could kill some time. It was a lighthouse on Lake Erie. We spent a few hours in the park around the lighthouse. We had lunch out of the trunk of the car again. You deserved better than that but you never complained.

I bought a newspaper at one of our stops. I scanned the headlines and police blotter for anything that might be interesting, anything that might give me a hint as to what was going on in my old world. Things were quiet. I checked the weather. The forecast that night was for rain. With the rain, the creatures began to crawl up from the mud.

 

 

The rain began in the late afternoon. Even before it began, we spotted the tall, dark clouds as they rolled toward us from across the plains. The air became thick and damp. Shortly after that the dark clouds covered the sky, blocking out the sun. It became dark. The air turned cold and the wind began to blow. The trees around us rustled in the wind. Then the rain came, hard and fast.

When we spotted the rain clouds moving toward us, you begged me to pull over. You said that you wanted to feel the storm approach. So I pulled over to the side of the road and we sat on the hood of the car as the clouds rolled toward us. We felt the mist and the wind. Just before the rain began to fall, I asked you, “Is that enough?” You said yes and we ran back into the car. Our clothes were damp from the mist and I turned on the car and turned up the heat to try to help dry us out. The rain pounded on the car. We could barely hear each other speak over the thumping of raindrops. We just sat there for a few moments, waiting for the rain to ease up enough so that I could see out the windshield.

“It doesn't rain like this where I'm from,” you said.

“We should find a place to get some dinner,” I said once I was able to pull back on the road. The rain was still pouring out of the sky. With each swipe of the wipers, I would have just enough time to catch a glimpse of the road before the world would disappear again in the flood.

“Where are we going to sleep tonight?” you asked while watching the sky fall down on top of us.

“Let's worry about eating first. Then we'll worry about where we're going to sleep,” I replied.

I couldn't push the car much above ten miles per hour because of the rain. We passed other cars that had simply pulled over, planning on waiting the storm out. I might have done the same if it looked like the storm was ever going to end. We eventually found a small diner just off the side of the road. I pulled the car into the parking lot and parked just to one side of the diner. “Why are we parking here, Joe?” you asked. “There's a parking space right up front.” I'd pulled our car to the side in order to hide it from people driving by, even on the little back road we were on. I didn't want to leave anything to chance. But I didn't have the heart to tell you that. So I backed the car up and parked it out front.

We took two stools at the counter. You wanted to eat at the counter. There were plenty of free booths. You said that you didn't understand how anyone could come into this kind of place and not sit at the counter. You talked like you were on vacation seeing sights. We sat on the big, plush, red stools, our backs to the door, facing the kitchen. One of the two cooks working the diner came up to us and took our order. He was straight out of central casting, a chunky man, mid-fifties, wearing a white apron covered in grease stains. I ordered a Coke. You ordered a black-and-white milkshake. They didn't have milkshakes. You changed your order to a chocolate milk. Sometimes I forgot how young you were.

I ordered a cheeseburger and fries. You ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup. You slid your hand onto my back and began to move it in small circles around my shoulder blades. I think that you could sense that I was feeling tense, despite not knowing why. I didn't even know why. It was just a general sense of unease. Things had been going too smoothly. Your touch calmed me down for the time being.

About halfway through our meal, the door opened. When it did, I could feel the wind from outside rustle through the entire restaurant. It whistled as it came through the door. I could hear the rain pounding on the pavement outside. It was loud and persistent. Some kid walked in with the wind. He quickly closed the door behind him, shutting us off again from the ugly weather. He was a gangly kid, tall and skinny. He had on a pair of jeans and was wearing a now sopping-wet hooded sweatshirt. It wasn't ideal rain gear. He had a backpack draped over one shoulder. He took a seat on a stool two stools down from you. When he sat down, he slipped his other arm into the second strap of the backpack. It sagged on his shoulders. He ordered a Coke and grabbed a menu. He looked to me like he was about fifteen. Truth was, he was at least a year older than you. His skin was almost as greasy as his hair. He had acne on his chin and his forehead. After he ordered his food, he began swiveling himself in circles on his stool. This lasted for all of about two minutes before the cook came back out. He scowled at the kid. “It's a stool, kid, not a fucking merry-go-round.”

The kid stopped. “Sorry,” he said. I almost felt bad for him. He immediately turned his attention to his Coke. He began busying himself by playing with the straw.

Suddenly, you broke my focus. “So where are we going to sleep tonight?” you asked again. The rain hadn't let up one bit. It banged and blew against the diner windows.

“I already told you, Maria. I don't know.”

“We could stay at a hotel.” There was just a hint of hope in your voice.

I shook my head. “We've got to save our money, Maria. It's running short already, with the food and the gas. We need something for when we get to Chicago. It's easier being homeless out here than it will be there.” My own words depressed me.

“What if we found something real cheap?” you asked. Yeah, that's just what I wanted, to bring my pregnant, seventeen-year-old girlfriend to a cheap motel in backwoods Ohio. I suddenly felt like everything Allen said about me was true.

“Maybe,” I said. I just wanted to end the conversation. I had eaten about half my burger. You pounded through your soup and sandwich. “You want the rest of mine?” I asked, motioning toward my half-empty plate.

“You're such a gentleman,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You want it or not?” I replied.

“Sure,” you said. I pushed the plate in front of you.

I needed a moment alone. “I'm going to run to the bathroom,” I said. “I'll be right back.” I eyed the kid again before I left. There was something about him. I could tell that he felt my eyes on him but he didn't look over at me. I figured I wouldn't be gone long enough for there to be any trouble. I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. The bathroom was tiny. There was a toilet on one side with a sink and mirror on the other. It was only slightly larger than an airplane bathroom. I stood up and ran the cold water in the sink. I took a few handfuls of the cold water and splashed them into my face. I stared at my own image in the mirror. I looked old. Compared to that kid out in the diner, I looked ancient.

I don't remember how long I had been gone. I had lost track of time. It couldn't have been more than five minutes. But it was too long. It was a mistake. The kid had moved. The kid, a human bundle of twitches and nerves, had moved to the stool next to you. The two of you were talking. I wanted to scold you. I wanted to walk right up to you and tell you that you shouldn't talk to strangers. He was probably just hitting on you. God knows I would if I were him. Still, I had a sinking feeling that this was going to end in violence.

Despite my premonition, I wore my best face. I walked back to my stool and sat down. You turned to me once I was back in my stool. “Joe,” you said, “this is Eric. He heard us talking and told me that he knows of a nice, cheap place where we can stay tonight.”

I reached out, offering to shake the kid's hand. “Nice to meet you, Eric.” Then I watched for his reaction. He paused, looking down at my hand. He hesitated, not knowing what to do. It was only for a split second, but he definitely hesitated. He didn't want to touch me. He was one of them. There was no doubt about it. He was one of them and he knew who I was. It only took him a split second to regain his confidence, but in that split second, he had given everything away.

“Hey” was all he said in response as I shook his hand. I hated the kid, real hatred. I hated that he had been talking to you. I hated that he had come here looking for us. I hated that I was going to have to kill him.

“So, you know of a good place where we can crash tonight?” I asked him, staring into his eyes as I spoke, testing to see if he could hold my gaze.

“Yeah,” he replied, quickly staring back down at his soda. “I know a guy who has an extra room at his place. He's been trying to rent it out but hasn't had any luck. Anyway, I'm sure he'd let you guys stay there for twenty bucks.”

You looked at me, your eyes heavy with expectation. I could almost read the thoughts in your big blue eyes. A bed, that's all you wanted. “Well, the price is right,” I said. I knew it would make you happy. At this point, even ten minutes of happiness was worth it. God only knew how many more chances we'd get to make each other happy. “How do we find this place?”

The kid sat there, chewing on the end of his straw, letting it dangle out of his mouth like toothpick. He hadn't really thought this out. “You guys could follow me. I'll lead you there and then I'll tell my buddy about the deal I struck up with you.” He smiled. His smile was genuine. He liked his plan.

“What's your friend's name?” I asked.

“Pete,” he replied without missing a beat. The whole thing fell in place for him quickly. He was young but he wasn't stupid.

“And what's in it for you?” I asked. I gave him a hard look. I wanted to scare him. I wanted him to back away and run. I wanted him to abandon his plan before it even got started. I was giving him an out. At the time, it was more than I thought he deserved. I was doing it for you, not for him.

“Joe,” you interrupted, not understanding what I was doing. “That's not very nice.” You tried to sound like you were just teasing me, but I knew that you were pissed off. You thought that I was going to ruin things for us.