‘Eddie owes you money,’ I say to the Godfather.
‘Ding ding ding,’ the young guy says.
‘Thank God one of you was born smart,’ the Godfather says. ‘You hit it on the nose. Eddie owes us money.’
‘And I’ll pay it. You know I will,’ Eddie says.
Portia throws her hands up in the air. ‘I … I don’t even know what to say right now. I can’t. I just can’t.’ With that, she stomps off into the tiny motel bathroom and slams the door.
That left the Godfather, the young guy, Eddie, and me to figure out what would come next.
Real talk.
Sometimes assumptions are wrong, as mine are in this case, because that young Alabama guy is smarter than I thought. When we were all distracted by Portia’s yelling and storming off into the bathroom, he moved his hand real slow. Too slow to notice, until he already has the gun out.
Now we’re in a motel room with two guns, and it really does look like a movie. There’s Eddie, the preppy guy with the shiny chrome gun. Me, in my shorts and Jacksonville Jaguars shirt that used to be Felix’s but is now mine. A young guy with a gun, a beard, and a Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt. Finally, the Godfather. He looks about sixty but may be younger, with a grey beard and deep lines around his eyes. The Godfather is the only one smiling.
‘Looks like we have ourselves an old-fashioned standoff here,’ he says.
For the first time since killing Felix, I kind of wish he was around. He was pretty good at diffusing situations because no one thought of him as a threat.
Except me.
The old man looks at me and says, ‘It seems we’re the only ones without a weapon.’
I hesitate before answering. ‘Looks that way.’
‘I’m Nathan,’ he says. ‘And this young man is my nephew, Jonah.’
‘Who was the woman?’ I say. ‘The one who knocked?’
‘Oh, that’s my girlfriend. She’s waiting outside,’ Nathan says.
‘Well, I’m Beth.’
‘I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I suppose that would sound ridiculous.’
I smile a tiny bit and Eddie glares at me. He can’t see my heart pounding or feel my hands shaking, but they are. Before I can say another word, the bathroom door opens and Portia reappears. Her hair is pulled back tight, out of her eyes, and she’s holding a can of something. It’s pointed right at Nathan.
‘Mace,’ she says. ‘Never leave home without it.’
Nathan doesn’t look surprised, nor does he stop smiling. ‘Perhaps we should take this down a notch. No one needs to die today.’
He’s the only one making sense right now.
I clear my throat. ‘So our brother owes you some money,’ I say.
‘That’s right,’ Nathan says. ‘Roundabout a hundred, give or take.’
‘A hundred?’
‘Thousand.’
‘Holy hell,’ Portia says. ‘Are you an addict? What is it? Oh wait, don’t tell me – pain pills, right? You’re on oxy.’
‘I’m not on oxy,’ Eddie says.
‘I don’t sell drugs,’ Nathan says. His voice is hard and a little bit scary. No one says anything, and we fall into a silent void.
‘I made a few bets,’ Eddie finally says. ‘Football games, some horse races.’
Portia sighs loud enough to wake the dead.
‘This is a gambling debt?’ I say. ‘Our trip has been sabotaged because of a gambling debt?’ I shake my head, trying not to kill Eddie before these guys do.
Portia changes targets. She sprays the mace at Eddie.
The guns are down now. Eddie dropped his when the mace hit him, and Jonah lowers his because he’s laughing too hard. All of us are sitting except Eddie, who’s curled up on the floor, rubbing his eyes while retching.
‘Quit crying,’ Portia says to him. ‘You’ll live.’
Eddie chokes out a rather feeble, ‘Go to hell.’
Jonah laughs again but one look from Nathan shuts him up. ‘This has been very entertaining, but I’d really like to talk about my money. As you have already seen, I’m a very reasonable man. I haven’t hurt anyone, though I’ve had plenty of chances on this little road trip of yours.’
I speak before Portia has a chance to. ‘Did Eddie tell you about this trip? About our grandfather?’
‘He did. But considering how many times your brother has lied to me, I had no reason to believe it was true.’
Eddie groans. He gets up and stumbles over to the sink. We all watch and then return to our conversation.
‘Eddie didn’t lie to you about this,’ I say. ‘Our grandfather passed away. Once we bring his ashes to where he wants them, we’ll get our inheritance.’ Before he can ask how much, I say, ‘Eddie will then have the money to pay you back.’
‘Yes, that’s what he said.’
‘It’s the truth,’ I say. ‘And maybe this sounds insensitive, but the three of us aren’t here because we wanted to take a family vacation. We’re here for the money.’
‘Three of you,’ he says. ‘You had five. You’ve lost a couple along the way.’
‘Our spouses weren’t exactly enjoying this trip, given how many problems we had with the car.’
‘Ah yes. The car.’
‘The flat tire, the stolen starter? I assume that was you?’ I say.
Nathan points to his nephew. ‘Jonah got a little bored on the trip, so we decided to have a little fun with your car. We wanted to make sure Eddie knew we were around. Just in case he forgot about his financial obligations.’
‘I never forgot,’ Eddie choked.
Jonah laughs. ‘I bet you didn’t.’
Portia rolls her eyes. ‘Do boys ever get sick of playing games?’
No one answers out loud, although Jonah shakes his head no.
‘Back to the money,’ I say. ‘Eddie can pay you once we finish this trip.’
Nathan stares at me for so long it makes me uncomfortable, and I want to fidget but I don’t. It feels like he’s sizing me up, trying to decide if he can believe me, since he can’t believe Eddie.
Good thing I’m not lying.
‘And if he still doesn’t pay,’ Nathan says. ‘Are you going to cover his debt?’
Like I said, he is an intelligent man. I agree because I have to, and because I have no doubt one of us will die today if he decides that’s how it has to be. I also agree because we need to get back on the road. This trip has to end.
‘Absolutely,’ I say. ‘I’ll cover it.’
It’s almost worse when Nathan and Jonah have left. Now we have to deal with the aftermath of what just happened, and everyone is pissed off.
‘You just let them follow us,’ Portia says.
Eddie, who has recovered a bit, says, ‘You sprayed me with mace.’
‘You better pay Nathan, because I sure as hell won’t,’ I say.
It’s not the money I’m angry about, though. I’m angry for the same reason Portia is.
Everyone has secrets, I get that. It doesn’t matter to me that Portia steals credit cards or that Eddie has a gambling problem. I have a bigger secret – about Felix – but they don’t need to know that because my secret doesn’t affect them.
Eddie’s secret does, though. It has altered our whole road trip, and he still didn’t say anything until his problem knocked on our door. That’s the difference between our secrets, and it’s a big one.
I’m starting to think there’s something about the Beaver Dam Motel. Both times we’ve been here, trouble literally came knocking. Tonight it was Nathan and Jonah. The first time it was the man from room number 9, the one who answered when I was looking for Nikki.
He was in number 9 alone, as far as we could see, and Eddie quickly said, ‘Sorry, wrong room.’
That was it. We ran off and he shut the door. Less than ten minutes later, that same man came to our room and knocked. Eddie opened it.
He looked like someone out of a seventies movie, right down to his thick moustache, patterned shirt, and blue bl
azer. He looked around the room, his eyes landing on each one of us. Eddie, Grandpa, Portia, me.
‘Can I help you?’ Grandpa said, walking toward the man.
‘I apologize. Two kids came knocking on my door and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,’ he said. ‘Just seemed kind of strange at a place like this. Kids being alone and all.’
Grandpa looked at me. Not Eddie, just me. ‘We were just playing,’ I said. ‘Like doorbell ditch.’
Grandpa glared at me but smiled at the man. ‘I’m on a road trip with my grandkids. Sometimes they get restless.’
The man smiled back. ‘Oh, I understand. I’ve got kids of my own back home.’
‘Thank for checking, though. Appreciate it.’
‘Not a problem. Glad everything is okay.’
The man left, Eddie shut the door, and Grandpa told us we were not allowed out of the room again. That was the end of it, at least until the next morning. The same man was in the parking lot, packing up his maroon Honda.
The man waved to us. ‘Good morning!’ he said.
Grandpa stared at him for a second before responding with a nod. ‘Morning.’
‘Hey,’ the man said, walking closer to us. ‘You mind if I ask you if you’re heading into Nevada? I’m afraid I don’t know this area very well and … well, I’m not much of a map reader. My wife is always yelling at me about asking for directions.’
If we had GPS back then, this conversation wouldn’t have taken place. The man would’ve had to come up with something else.
‘Where are you trying to go?’ Grandpa said.
‘Reno,’ the man said. ‘Thought I’d try my luck there before heading to Vegas.’
‘Sorry. Can’t help you with Reno.’ Grandpa motioned for us to get in the car. He waved goodbye to the man as we drove off.
I didn’t think anything of him, or of the conversation, because I was too worried about finding Nikki. When we called our parents the night before, Mom’s voice was tight and it was like that every time we called, so everything seemed normal, but it wasn’t. We had to tell her Nikki was asleep.
Once we were back on the road, Grandpa started acting nervous, like something was wrong, and he kept looking behind us. A few times he even told Eddie to keep a lookout but didn’t say why.
‘You’re such a traitor,’ I told him.
He smiled.
Somewhere in the middle of Nevada, otherwise known as Eureka County, Grandpa pulled over for a gas-bathroom-snack break. It would have felt a lot more normal if Nikki had been there. Or if the maroon Honda hadn’t pulled in right next to us.
The same man got out of his car and waved to us.
Grandpa didn’t wave or smile back. ‘Little far from Reno, aren’t you?’
The man shrugged. ‘Yeah. I guess I am.’
‘Since you’re following us, maybe you should tell me your name,’ Grandpa said.
‘Calvin. Calvin Bingham.’
Grandpa stared at him, like he was trying to figure out if he knew him. ‘And what is it that you want, Mr Calvin Bingham?’ His voice dripped with something, not so much sarcasm as disdain.
Calvin stopped smiling. When he did, his whole demeanor changed, even the way he stood. He no longer looked like some touristy gambler looking to relive the seventies. He looked mad. ‘Where’s the girl?’ he said.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Did I see another girl with you? Back a ways?’
Grandpa narrowed his eyes. ‘What are you, some kind of pervert? Into teenage girls?’
‘No. Nothing like that.’
I watched them stare at each other, and I remember wondering if Calvin was a better person than Grandpa. I hoped he was, and I hoped he would find Nikki.
When we drove away, Calvin followed.
1 Day Left
Nevada
State Motto: All for our country
In the morning, Eddie’s eyes are a little red but otherwise he has recovered from the mace. He and Portia aren’t talking to each other, and I don’t really want to talk to Eddie, much less be around him, but somehow I end up as the go-between.
It’s a weird start to the day.
Within minutes, we cross the border into Nevada. We’re in the desert now, and our first stop is at a dusty gas station. The wind is blowing, the grit so thick I can feel it in my teeth. It’s already deep into the afternoon. We got a late start because of changing motels and sleeping later to make up for it. The heat isn’t as relentless as last time, not this far north.
When I come out of the restroom at the gas station, Portia is waiting for me. We’re around the back of the gas station, where Eddie can’t see us.
‘That gun,’ Portia says, getting right to it. ‘Did you know Eddie brought that?’
‘I had no idea.’
She purses her lips. I can see a hint of the wrinkles she will have one day.
‘What?’ I say.
Portia pauses before spitting it out. ‘I don’t like this. Not one bit.’
‘Me neither. But what can we do? We can’t quit.’
‘We sure as hell can’t. I bet that’s what he’s hoping, though. So he can have all the money to himself.’
‘Screw that,’ I say.
‘Yeah. Screw that.’
We go back to the car together, where Eddie is waiting for us. I sit in the front now and Portia goes to the far back seat, as far away from Eddie as she can get.
Nathan and Jonah may have caused all our car problems, but that doesn’t explain everything else. Grandpa’s ashes going missing – and reappearing. The van that drove by, playing Nikki’s favorite song. The cell phone in the woods. That was all Nikki.
She’s the real reason I won’t quit this trip. The money is just a bonus.
Eureka County. This is where we stopped for lunch the first time, and it’s where we stop this time. Eddie might have even taken the same exit, although it’s hard to tell because these roadside towns all look the same. When he stops the car, Eddie tells us – tells me – how much time we have to eat.
Portia looks at me when she speaks. ‘I’m not eating fast food again. I’m going to sit down and eat a salad.’ She walks across the parking lot, away from Burger King and toward her only chance for a decent salad: Bennigan’s.
Eddie checks the time on his phone. I can almost see him calculating how long this stop will be.
‘I didn’t know you carried a gun,’ I say.
‘I don’t carry it every day. Just seemed like a good idea for this trip.’ He looks up from his phone. ‘Probably should’ve told you.’
‘Probably?’
‘Well, now you know.’ He walks away from me and heads into a fast-food restaurant.
Once we’re all back in the car and on the road, no one speaks. Eddie doesn’t mention the extended stop. Portia doesn’t say anything about the giant non-diet soda he’s drinking. I don’t mention anything at all. No one speaks until Eddie takes an exit near Duckwater, Nevada.
‘Looks the same,’ Portia says. ‘Doesn’t it, Beth?’
It does.
‘Our last night,’ Eddie says.
Overkill. We all know what night it is. We check into the same place, the Pine Cone Motel. We even go out to eat at the same place, a steakhouse and saloon called the Rib.
Portia orders a salad, Eddie orders a sirloin steak. I get a sandwich and a molten lava cake for dessert.
When we’re done eating, Eddie leans back in his seat and puts his hands on his stomach the way Dad used to. ‘I think it’s safe to say this is the last time we’ll have to take this road trip.’ He side-eyes Portia, who looks at me.
‘It better be,’ she says.
‘I think we should get three rooms tonight,’ I say.
Eddie doesn’t look surprised. ‘I agree.’
Portia shrugs, says nothing, and Eddie offers to pay for both dinner and the rooms. Maybe he feels a little guilty – hopefully a lot guilty – about what happened last night. Or maybe now that the trip is alm
ost over, Eddie is starting to feel like a wealthy man.
I wish I could say the Pine Cone is like every other roadside motel, but it’s worse. This isn’t a place where people stop to grab a few hours of sleep before getting back on the road. This is a place where they have hourly, nightly, weekly, and monthly rates. Some of the rooms have plastic furniture outside their doors, like their long-term residents have set up outdoor patios. In the parking lot, a man is working on a car set up on blocks. Judging by the dirt on it, the car has been here a while.
For a minute, I even wonder if they have three available rooms.
Silly me. Of course they do.
Once I’m alone, I start thinking about how this is going to end. About the secrets we buried, literally, and if they’ll ever come out. If they can be blamed on anyone. More importantly, if they can be used to blackmail one another into giving up our share of the money. Why send someone to jail when you can get them to hand over their share of the inheritance? Like Eddie’s night in jail. Someone could use that against him, maybe even me. If I have to.
While pondering this, I get a text from Portia.
I can hear Eddie next door. He’s screaming at someone.
Krista?
Maybe? Sounds like it’s about money.
No surprise there.
She says:
He’s an asshole,
Always.
I can also hear the people next door having sex.
Eddie is actually preferable.
Nice.
I wonder exactly how much trouble Eddie is in, how many more debts he might have. Or how far he would go to pay them off.
Up until now, I’ve refused to consider he did anything to Krista. Just because she hasn’t texted doesn’t mean she’s dead.
Although for Felix, it does mean that.
Felix. I’m not sad to think about him. Not exactly. Maybe a little melancholy, the way you think about a friend years after you’ve drifted apart. That’s what it feels like, even though he’s only been gone thirty-six hours. Give or take.
He Started It Page 23