Journey, The (13 page)

"Get him out," Michelle said.

"Come again?"

"Get your brother out. Get him out of Iran," Michelle said more forcefully. "Call him, wire him, do whatever it takes. Just get him out of the country."

Robert put his fork on his plate and wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. He looked at Michelle with a face that betrayed amusement, bewilderment, and concern.

"Is there any particular reason I should do this?"

"Yes. Iran is about to get very dangerous. It won't be safe for Americans to be there."

"It's not a safe place now. David is aware of the risks."

"He's not aware of this," Michelle said. She wondered how she would explain prior knowledge of an event that even the State Department didn't see coming. "Please trust me on this, Robert. He needs to leave the country now and take anyone he can with him."

"I'll call him tomorrow."

"No. Tomorrow may not be soon enough. You need to do it now! Tell him what you must to get him on a plane. Say you are sick. Say something. Say anything. But call him tonight."

Michelle shot an arm across the table and halted his progress as he reached for a glass.

"Please, Robert. Please do it tonight."

"OK, Michelle."

Robert put a hand to his chin and smiled at his date.

"I will."

CHAPTER 23: SHELLY

Saturday, November 3, 1979

Attired in bib overalls, a flannel shirt, and a cowboy hat, Shelly Preston sat on a hay bale and watched the hayseeds she called classmates dance to "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." Though the good old boys burning up the barn with violins were a few strokes shy of the Charlie Daniels Band, they played well enough to keep the Sadie Hawkins crowd hopping.

Shelly did not envy those still on the floor. She had danced to every song between eight and nine and now simply wanted to rest her tired body on two bales of hay that made a surprisingly comfortable chair. She began to remove her undersized cowboy boots when she saw her two best friends approach.

"Has our dancing cowgirl had enough tonight?" April Burke asked.

April pulled Brian Johnson like a Radio Flyer wagon to a nearby bale. The two sat down, removed their hats, and gave Shelly Preston their undivided attention.

"My feet have had enough. That's for sure," Shelly said. "These boots are like vices. I'll probably have to go to a spa to work out the knots."

Shelly stared at her friends and laughed to herself. They were as unlikely a pair as a giraffe and a jaguar, but they looked good together and she was happy to see them at the dance.

Brian had not been April's first choice or even her second. She had asked Tony Bronson to the dance the morning after the drag race only to learn that he had already been claimed. Morgan Richardson had beaten her to the punch. Plan B had fizzled just as quickly. When April had called Ricky Fellows, editor of the school newspaper, later that day, she had learned that he would be out of town on November 3.

So April had exercised her BSA, an emergency option created in the seventh grade when attendance at social events suddenly became important. If Brian, Shelly, or April had ever needed a date, and one of the friends was available, that friend would come to the rescue. Each had bailed out the others several times and almost always with good cheer. Tonight was no exception. When Shelly looked at April and Brian, she saw not two friends on a rescue mission but rather two friends having a good time.

"So where's Scott?" April asked.

"He's with the offensive line, taking tequila shots in the parking lot," Shelly said with more than a trace of irritation. "He's rewarding them for the job they did last night. They kept him from getting sacked. Of course, if one of the chaperones catches them, they'll all be sitting on the bench next week."

"They'll be serving time with Tony if they do," April said. "He's hosting his own party."

"What a surprise." Shelly tried to push off her boots but gave up when she broke a nail. "I can't believe some people wear these things all the time. Cass Stevens even wears them to school dances. How crazy is that?"

"Maybe you should go barefoot." April smiled as she put her hands on her hips. "Then you could dance around all of the cowboys trying to squish your toes into putty."

Shelly laughed.

"I'm not
that
desperate. But I do wish I had brought my tennis shoes. I'd be enjoying this dance a lot more. I'd also be enjoying it a lot more if my freaking date would come back. I hate it when Scott leaves me like this. It's so rude."

All three turned their heads as the band started a new song. Shelly stared at several couples as they returned to the floor. She wiggled her feet again to work out some of the knots.

"Do you want to dance, Shelly?" Brian asked. "I think I've mastered the role of backup."

April slugged him in the shoulder.

Shelly laughed again.

"Thanks, Brian, but I think I'm going to sit a little longer. My feet are on fire and I really am exhausted. Maybe later, OK?"

"OK. At least April won't turn me down, right April?"

April smiled through gritted teeth. She stared at Shelly for several seconds before standing up and grabbing Brian's hand. She yanked him off of the bale, pulled him close, and looked at her best friend.

"It seems my Plan C hasn't had enough of me or the band. We'll see you later, Shelly."

"Count on it."

Shelly waved with her fingers as April led Brian back to the dance floor. She watched Brian look over his shoulder and wave back before he and his BSA date disappeared into the high-stepping mob that occupied the center of a barn ten miles north of Unionville. She had started to lean back on her hay bale recliner when she heard a voice from behind.

"What's a beauty like you doing in a place like this?"

Shelly turned around.

"Hi, Nick. I didn't know you were here."

Nick Bender sat down next to Shelly.

"I just arrived."

"Where's Ellen?" Shelly asked, referring to Ellen Price.

"She's at home with the flu. She couldn't even get out of bed. I debated whether to come. I mean, who shows up without a date, right? But I had nothing better to do."

"It seems two of us are flying solo tonight."

"Where's Richardson?"

"He's drinking with his teammates."

"He's a fool to leave you alone."

Shelly searched her mind for a snappy reply but couldn't find one. She wanted to take issue with the comment and tell Nick that Scott wasn't that bad. She wanted to tell him that her boyfriend of five months would be back in a jiffy to make the most of
her
dance. But she couldn't. Plain-spoken Nick Bender had once again cut through the crap and described a situation perfectly. Scott
was
a fool.

"I know."

Nick slid a few inches closer to Shelly when the sound from the stage began to make additional conversation difficult.

"I haven't seen you since the night of the race. Are you pissed at me?"

Both broke into laughter. Shelly smiled at Nick through a red face and wagged a finger.

"Don't even go there," she said.

"All right, all right. Let me rephrase." Nick leaned a little closer. "Are you upset that I almost got us killed?"

Shelly put her smile away and gazed at Nick with thoughtful eyes.

"No. I'm not upset with you. It was a stupid thing to do, but no one forced me to get in your car. I have only myself to blame."

"That's good. I felt kind of badly about the whole thing."

"Don't," Shelly said. She put a hand on his arm. "It was my decision to hop in. Just don't expect me to do it again anytime soon."

Nick laughed.

"Fair enough," he said.

As Shelly repositioned her petite frame on the bales of hay, the band's lead singer announced that it was time "to slow things down a bit" and "get cozy with the one you love." A few seconds later, he started into "Desperado," a mesmerizing ballad by the Eagles.

"Do you want to dance?" Nick asked.

Shelly weighed the offer for a moment but only a moment. If Scott didn't have the decency to spend the entire evening with her, then he had no right to object to her dancing with others.

"Yeah, I do," she said, extending an arm. "Help me up."

Nick grabbed her hand, gently pulled her off the bale, and led her to the dance floor, where more than thirty couples got cozy with the one they loved, or at least the one that was available on short notice.

Putting her arms around Nick's neck but maintaining some distance, Shelly got into one of her favorite slow songs and took stock of the scene around her. Jimmy Grant and Cass Stevens danced a few feet away, glued not only at the hip but also at the lips. She envied the seeming simplicity and clarity of their relationship, now in its second year. She also envied many of the couples in the room. They seemed to be having a good time, whether in a relationship or not.

Shelly smiled when she saw April put her head on Brian's shoulder a few feet away. The highly adaptive Miss Burke was definitely making the most of her date of convenience. But Shelly cringed when she saw Brian look her way seconds later. It was clear he did not think much of her bout with exhaustion or her choice of elective dance partners. She saw judgment in his eyes, in addition to disappointment and hurt.

She saw more judgment when the song concluded and she turned around and saw the unsmiling face of Scott Richardson. He had his hands on his hips.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Good. I'm delighted. Now that I'm back you can have more fun," Scott said in a voice that revealed both irritation and intoxication. He glanced at Nick. "Sorry to interrupt, Bender, but it's time to find your own date."

Shelly looked over her shoulder at Nick and mouthed a "goodbye" as Scott led her by the hand to a poorly illuminated and lightly occupied section of the cavernous barn. When they reached the quiet corner, where private conversations were possible and discourse replaced dancing, Shelly freed her hand and let him have it.

"That was rude, Scott."

"What? Telling him to find his own date?"

"Yes. He had a date tonight but she got sick. It was also rude of you to leave me alone for twenty minutes. Did you expect me to just sit and do nothing?"

"No. I didn't. But I didn't expect you to dance with that punk either. He's bad news."

"Says who?"

"Lori Lane, for one."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, so you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"You don't know the reason they broke up," Scott said, clearly eager to change the subject. "Lori didn't just up and leave because she got tired of Bender's bullshit. She got tired of being smacked around."

"I don't believe you."

"Ask her yourself then. She's right over there."

Shelly wanted desperately to disprove Scott's accusation. She had known Nick only as a gentleman, even in situations like the drag race, where rival males baited him with hot rhetoric and challenges he couldn't refuse. But she had also heard a few things about Nick from April, things she didn't want to believe but now could not so easily dismiss.

Perhaps realizing that he had overstepped, Scott reached for Shelly's hands and gently pulled her near. He put a hand to her cheek, gazed at her with kinder eyes, and addressed her in a soft voice. Jekyll had again replaced Hyde.

"I'm sorry for leaving you. It was stupid and thoughtless. I won't do it again."

Shelly studied his face and then looked away. She didn't know what to think. She had no doubt that Scott was sincere. He was always sincere and remorseful when he realized that he had pushed her too far. But she also had no doubt that he would go back to his stupid and thoughtless ways soon enough. Leopards didn't change their spots, and intelligent, good-looking high school quarterbacks didn't lose their enormous egos overnight.

As she accepted Scott's invitation to sit on a bale and spend some time with the young man she still called her boyfriend, Shelly Preston thought about the day Nick had offered her a ride in his hot new car and how she had refused because she hadn't wanted to add another complication to her already complicated life. That day was only four weeks gone and still very fresh in her memory, but even now it had the unmistakable feel of a quaint and distant time.

CHAPTER 24: MICHELLE

Monday, November 5, 1979

"How did you know?"

Michelle returned the stare of the man sitting across her table in the faculty lounge but took her time delivering a reply. She had anticipated his question and had prepared several answers, including a few that did not completely stretch the bounds of plausibility. But she knew that almost anything she said would be greeted with skepticism if not outright disbelief.

"I'm psychic."

"Try again," Robert Land said.

He smiled, sipped his coffee, and focused once more on the subject of his inquisition.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I have a sixth sense when it comes to danger. I had a feeling the other night and ran with it."

"You had more than a feeling, Michelle. You knew trouble was brewing. You saw something coming that even our government didn't," Robert said. "You were specific and vehement. I'd say that that makes you much more than psychic."

Michelle sank in her chair as she digested the words. He didn't believe her. She thought about fleshing out her explanation but didn't want to compound one lie with several more. She also didn't want to alienate a man she respected, admired, and was beginning to adore.

"I don't know what to tell you, Robert," she said. "I just knew. I knew you had to act."

Robert reached across the table and put his hand on her arm.

"I didn't ask to meet you here to accuse you. I wanted to thank you. You spared my brother and his family considerable anguish." He looked at her with sympathetic eyes. "Thank you."

Michelle sighed and smiled.

"Is he OK?"

"He's fine. He's already back in Houston. I spoke to him last night."