Crossroads (17 page)

"I’m going to bathe. Start waking up," she commanded.

Jen nodded, but there was something lingering in her eyes that Kira had never seen there before. It seemed as though she were somewhere else than just the dull nowhere of sleep, as though she couldn’t drag her mind back into her head.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Jen nodded again, rubbing her eyes with both fists.

"All right," said Kira. "You shower after me."

As soon as she stepped into the bathroom she realized her mistake. Of course Sheila  had a big mirror hanging over the sink. Kira instantly dropped to her knees, crawling silently across the vinyl floor, staring up fearfully at the reflection of the ceiling. No skull-face leered down at her, but as she jerked a towel from the handle of the shower door and stood to cover the mirror she could have sworn she spotted a furtive movement within the glass that did not belong inside the tiny bathroom.

She held the towel in front of her like a matador’s cape, terrified that at any moment a
man’s
hand might reach through both the mirror and the towel and grab her by the throat. But she wasn’t nearly tall enough to reach the top of the mirror. She kicked the toilet lid closed with her toe and-still holding the towel protectively in front of her-climbed onto the counter, but the glass was glued to the thin paneling, and there was no space behind the mirror to tuck the towel into. In desperation she pressed it against the glass with one arm-expecting to feel it sink right through the pane into... something else-while she snatched up a toothbrush and some kind of flossing tool out of an elephant-shaped holder on the counter. She worked them carefully between the mirror and the paneling, wedging the top of the towel there, saying a silent
I’m sorry
to Sheila for the damage. Then she climbed back down, carefully tugging the sides of the towel out to cover the entire mirror before finally feeling safe enough to slip into the tub. She still couldn’t bring herself to close the opaque shower doors. She didn’t want to be trapped in there if the towel fell.

When she was done showering her makeshift shroud still held, and she discovered that Jen was already dressed. Kira frowned at her.

"Shower?" she said.

Jen shook her head.

Kira sighed. Clean or not at least Jen was ready to go. Back on the road. No more soft beds. No telling how long before she ever felt a hot shower or heard a comforting voice again. If ever.

"Hungry," said Jen, as Kira opened the front door and stared out into the afternoon sun.

"We’ll get something on the way," she said, her own tummy grumbling.

Jen shrugged, following her down the small concrete stoop. As they started down the drive the screen door of the diner creaked opened, and Sheila  stepped out, wearing a grease-stained apron and shaking her head.

"No, you don’t," she called, waving them toward her with one finger. "I was true to my promise. Now you be true to yours."

Kira sighed, considering a run for it, but she knew that Sheila  could call her cop friend, Charlie, and they’d never make it past the city limits. Reluctantly she followed Jen inside the back door of the diner, watching Sheila  ceremoniously click the hook through the latch behind them. Sheila pointed toward a small table with two chairs beside the griddle, and Kira plopped herself down, the smell of cooking meat causing her to salivate. Maybe eating before they went wasn’t a bad idea after all. When Sheila  deposited heaping plates of hamburgers and french fries in front of them she succumbed to hunger.

By the time she and Jen finally shoved their plates away Kira was undecided whether to try to slip out while Sheila  was serving people at the booths out front-she didn’t appear to have any help-or to wait. But the meal was sitting so heavy in the bottom of her stomach, the taste of greasy hamburger still clinging to her mouth where the cold milk hadn’t washed it all away. The heat of the big stainless steel stove behind her-filled with sweet smelling biscuits and dinner rolls-so soft against her shoulders she felt as though she could sleep again, right then, right there in that hardbacked chair, just rest her head on the folding card table, and disappear into dreamlessness for hours, maybe days.

Jen burped loud enough to wake the dead, and Kira started, smiling back at her wide grin of satisfaction.

"You full now?" she asked Jen.

Jen nodded, the fact of her fullness written upon her own lazy eyelids.

"Well, don’t go to sleep. We need to leave soon."

This time Jen shook her head.

"We have to," whispered Kira, glancing up as Sheila  returned to her griddle and looked over at the two of them again.

Kira smiled at Sheila, and Sheila  nodded, but she also looked pointedly at the back door. They weren’t going to get very far without her knowing. Kira relaxed. Done was done. She was going to have to put up with her sense of urgency a little longer. As Sheila headed back out to the diner proper, Kira stood and pointed Jen toward the dishes Sheila had been depositing beside the big double sink.

By the time the last of the dinner crowd was gone Sheila  returned to the kitchen again, tossing her stained white apron onto the back of Jen’s chair and slipping in beside them at the wide metal sinks, inspecting their work. The glasses headed for the heavy duty automatic washer sparkled as though ready to go back on the shelf.

"I didn’t ask you guys to clean up," she said.

"We pay our way," said Kira, scrubbing fiercely at some gravy that had sat too long on a heavy white platter. The water was hot enough to scald her hands, but she ignored it. She’d washed a lot of dishes in her time.

"Admirable," said Sheila . "You’re a tough pair, aren’t you?"

"We get by," admitted Kira.

"And you don’t say much," said Sheila, catching Jen’s good eye.

Jen stared at her as though she weren’t even there, but Sheila  didn’t seem offended, just curious.

"She isn’t retarded," said Kira. "Or a mutie."

"I never said she was," said Sheila , looking down her nose at Kira as though she had
been offended by that remark.

"It’s just that some people think she is," said Kira, quickly, remembering Bullet.

Sheila  laughed strangely, and Kira felt as though the kitchen actually lightened.

"Some people probably think I am, too," said Sheila .

"Who’d think that?" asked Kira.

Sheila  ran her own business, had a home, and a car in the drive. Who’d ever believe someone like that could possibly be retarded?

"Just people I knew," said Sheila, losing some but not all of her smile.

"Not really," said Kira.

"No, not really. They didn’t think I was retarded so much as different."

For just a moment Sheila’s eyes went to that same place Jen’s bad eye went to sometimes. Kira nodded. She knew what it meant to be different.

"What about you guys?" Sheila asked, shoving a tray of glasses into the steaming washer. "What’s your story now? I mean really."

"We’re running from the
Empty-eyed-man,
" Kira insisted.

Sheila frowned. "But running where?"

Kira shrugged. She had to be careful. She didn’t like to lie, but maybe like Jen she could learn to stretch the truth, or leave things out.

"We’re trying to get some place," she said.

Sheila  nodded, wiping her forehead with a table towel. "Where?"

"We’re not really sure," Kira admitted at last.

Sheila  laughed again. Sometimes her face shone with an internal radiance that Kira wondered if she even knew was there. The lowering sun through the window high above the sink seemed to have slipped from behind a cloud, but even the sun didn’t have the gleam of Sheila ’s face.

"Well, that makes things a little more difficult, doesn’t it?" said Sheila .

Kira nodded. It did, indeed.

"So, how are you planning on finding this someplace, then?" asked Sheila, pulling the plug on the sink, rinsing everything down with water so hot the air thickened like soup.

Kira shrugged. How was she ever going to explain that she felt as though she knew where she was going sometimes but still didn’t know where it was?

"I can’t explain it," she said, simply.

Sheila  shook out her apron and tossed it into a basket beside the door. She motioned for Kira and Jen to sit again.

"I don’t blame you for not trusting me," she said.

Kira was glad of that. The last thing she wanted was for Sheila  to blame her for anything. Sheila  just had a feeling about her that was
better
than most people. There was some dirt there, but it wasn’t the kind of dirt that you soiled your hands on so bad you couldn’t get the smell off. Sheila ’s dirt was just the dirt of some old hurt that was taking a long time to wash itself out of her life.

"Sooner or later everyone has to trust someone," said Sheila , sounding as though that were as much a revelation to herself as to anyone else.

Kira believed with her whole heart that was true, but she also knew that trusting people brought them into the realm of the
Empty-eyed-man
and the Grigs. It was as much for Sheila ’s protection as for her and Jen’s that she hesitated.

"When we get where we’re going, we’ll be okay," she insisted.

Sheila  nodded, taking in Jen first, then Kira again. "I know you think that’s true, but a lot of bad things can happen while you’re trying to find this place you’re looking for. A kid and a woman...like...Jen can get into a lot of  trouble out in the world even if you don’t run into this
Empty-eyed-man
. There are bad people out there."

Kira was absolutely certain that Sheila  had no idea of just how right she was, but she was just as sure that Sheila had had run-ins with some pretty bad people herself. Sheila was concerned for Kira and Jen. Unfortunately sometimes concern like that took the wrong turn, and the cops or the child welfare people showed up.

"Please don’t turn us in," she whispered.

"I don’t want to," said Sheila. "I know what it means to have your own life. I just want to make sure for my own peace of mind that you two are going to be all right. I tell you what, I’ll make you a promise if you’ll make me one."

Kira hesitated. "What kind of promise?"

"Tell me the whole unvarnished truth, and I promise not to make a snap decision, like calling the cops."

"I can’t."    

Sheila  frowned. "Why not? I promise to give you a fair listen."

Kira shook her head. "You won’t believe me, and even if you did, there’s nothing you can do."

"That’s very mysterious. Are you two escapees from some secret government laboratory?"

Kira stared at her, trying to see if she was kidding. The twinkle in Sheila ’s eyes gave her away.

"No," she said, shaking her head.

Sheila  studied Jen again, then turned back to Kira. "You ran away from home, but was it
your
home?"

"What do you mean?"

Sheila  shrugged. "Jen looks like she has special... needs. Were the two of you in some kind of state run facility?"

"No. We were in the carnival."

"But the cops are after you."

"I don’t think so. Not here."

"What do you mean, not here?"

"We didn’t break any laws," said Kira, not absolutely certain that was true. They had ridden freights,
created
money, been at least involved with bank robbers and rapists, and witnesses to more than one murder...

"You didn’t answer my question."

"Can’t you please just let us go?" Kira pleaded.

Sheila  shook her head. "No. I can’t," she said at last, "but I’ll still make you that deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"Stay with me for one week. Once you get to trust me, maybe we can work this out."

Kira shook her head. They couldn’t stay because doing so would not only give the
Empty-eyed-man
a sitting target, it would be putting Sheila  in almost certain deadly danger. But she had to tell Sheila  something, to get her to relax enough so that she and Jen could slip away sometime before darkness fell again and it was too late. The waning light outside warned her that she didn’t have much time.

"That’s too long," she said.

Sheila  frowned, but it was a frown of concentration, not anger. "Five days."

Kira again shook her head. "Two."

"Three," said Sheila . Before Kira could counter she held up both hands signaling she’d cede another point. "Three days, and all the hamburgers you can eat."

To that offer Jen nodded lustily, and Kira was forced to smile, glad to have the argument done even if she had no intention of sticking to her side of the bargain.

"First thing we gotta do is get you two a new change of clothes," said Sheila.

Kira knew the skimpy whiteness around the knees of her jeans wasn’t
fashion
. Her cotton crew-neck sweater was dirty and threadbare as well. Jen’s sweatshirt was also stained with road grime. Only the jackets Clancy had bought them were anywhere near new.

"We don’t want to be any trouble," she said, refusing to even think about giving Sheila any funny money.

Sheila  shrugged. "You’re pretty good dishwashers, and my trailer could use a good cleaning. How are you at hopping tables?"

Kira frowned, shaking her head. "I don’t think it’s a good idea for a lot of customers to see us."

Sheila nodded. "You’re probably right. People ask questions. All right. Keep the kitchen and the trailer clean while you’re here. Deal?"

Kira nodded. "Deal."

"Deal," said Jen, unexpectedly, and they all laughed.

Chapter 24

At eight o’clock in the evening the parking lot of the Wal-Mart Superstore on the outskirts of Arlington was barely half-full, and Sheila  found a spot for her rusted, blue Chevy Euro close to the entrance. Kira stared forlornly at the sun that was almost down, wondering how she and Jen were ever going to make their break, especially since Jen seemed perfectly content to stay with Sheila. Kira couldn’t figure out why that was. Jen knew as well as she did the urgency of them keeping on the move, and she was often the first one to sense danger. After all Jen had been sent here to protect her. Did that mean that the danger had passed? Or was Jen’s danger alarm becoming faulty?