by Raj, Carol;
He was probably thinking once she fell asleep it would be easy for him to finish her off. It would take only one shot to the temple. Just as he’d threatened hours ago. Anyone around would assume a truck had backfired.
Muriel faked a yawn that turned into a real one. “We should both get some rest. We had a hectic day today. We may have a long walk looking for a gas station tomorrow.” She had to lie down. Maybe he’d lie down, too. Natalie was impossible at that age. She stayed awake until all hours. “Didn’t I see some blankets in that pile of paraphernalia from Roxanne’s trunk?”
“Pile of what?” Kevin’s tone showed more irritation than curiosity.
“Paraphernalia. It’s an assortment of things.”
“Geez, Mrs. B. Why do you use such big words? Just to make me feel stupid?”
“I wouldn’t do something like that, Kevin. Anyway, paraphernalia isn’t that big a word. Don’t you study vocabulary for the SATs?”
“Not me. I told you. I’m going to hide out in Montana or Wyoming. I’ll get my GED if I have to. Then I’ll wait until I’m old enough to join the army. I have it all figured out. I don’t need to know big words to shoot bad guys in some foreign country.”
“Well, I just wanted to know where the blankets are.”
“The blankets are right over there. Get one for me, too, would you? I don’t feel so good. I don’t know why you let me eat that granola bar. I think it was probably poisoned.”
5
Muriel tried to keep her eyes open. She dozed, then woke, then dozed again. She had folded Roxanne’s blanket in half, making two layers, and crawled between them. The lower layer was too thin to protect her from the acorns and pebbles strewn in the clearing. The top layer was too thin to keep her warm. She pulled the upper part of the blanket closer to her chin and felt a cool breeze against her legs where her slacks had pulled away from her socks, leaving her skin bare. There was something she was supposed to be doing. But she couldn’t think what it might be.
Her dream was a peaceful place. She was ten years old, walking home from school in the snow, clutching a library book in one hand. When she got home, her father would build a fire in the fireplace. Her mother would have warm cookies on a plate. Muriel’s whole body relaxed, secure in the comforts of her childhood.
The rustle of heavy footsteps in dried leaves disturbed her peace. The noise overshadowed the voices of parents in her dream calling to their children. But wait. There were no dried leaves in her dream. There was only snow. Snow didn’t rustle. Snow didn’t have a musty smell either.
She drifted off once more. Just a few more minutes. She would worry about everything in the morning. Something heavy came down on her chest. Kevin. She had forgotten about Kevin. About the carjacking. Oh, my. She should wake up. She had a plan. She tried to move her arms, but it was too late. She was trapped. Anyway, she couldn’t remember what her plan was. Tiredness wrapped around her like a thick fog, as if nothing else mattered. Her eyelids fluttered halfway open. The night was pitch black. In the morning, she would be able to see.
The smell of leaves was fading now; the snow-packed streets of her dream deserted. She started up the wide front steps of her childhood home and, before she reached the front door drifted back to unconsciousness.
6
Muriel woke to the sound of a bird singing in the oak tree branches above her. The song was an operatic aria of incredible emotion and tonal range. No soprano at the Metropolitan Opera House would have dared compete. When was the last time she heard a bird sing? Probably when she camped out with Natalie’s Brownie troop in one of the local parks. Why, that was almost forty years ago! Surely, she must have heard a bird sing since then. Maybe on one of her short walks for groceries or to Roxanne’s house? A bird might have sounded an alarm as she walked by. But it was nothing like this.
The bird deserved a standing ovation when it finished.
And she had not been put in a car trunk and left to die. Muriel half opened one eye. Sunshine streamed through the interlacing branches. She could see. She could hear. She could breathe. She had so many things to be thankful for. So many things that just yesterday she had taken for granted. In the morning light, she struggled to move her arms, her eyes widening at an unaccustomed resistance. She raised her head and looked down.
Kevin’s leather jacket was draped across her upper body. Well, God bless Kevin. What kind of carjacker with a dragon tattoo covered an old lady with his own jacket in the middle of the night so she wouldn’t be cold?
Geometry was logical. A proof done correctly could be done over and over again. Each time it would yield the exact same result. Teenagers were not logical at all. But it was logical for Muriel to assume that Kevin must be feeling better this morning and that he had not, after all, died from food poisoning in the middle of the night. Thank You, Lord, for keeping Kevin safe. Thank You for giving me the blessing of a new day. Help me to use it for Your glory. She struggled to sit up. “Thank you, Kevin…”
There was no sign of the young man.
She pulled his jacket off and felt inside each of its pockets. They were all empty. There was no gun. Well, of course Kevin wouldn’t have left his gun in the jacket. Had Kevin deserted her? Probably not. If he didn’t plan to come back, he wouldn’t have left an expensive jacket behind.
But what if he had left her? Even if Roxanne’s car miraculously turned over on a bone-dry tank of gas, it would be no help. She had no idea where she was or what direction to start driving. Could she just start walking? That was her plan before she went to sleep last night. If only she hadn’t been so tired.
Footsteps were coming in her direction. The ground trembled under the force of their stride.
Yesterday she would have hoped for anybody but Kevin. This morning she was not so sure. “Kevin?” Muriel whispered. She dared not say it louder.
Barking came from the woods.
Oh, please, Lord. Not dogs. Either they would be the over-friendly type who would lick her face with tongues that had just licked their own behinds, or they would lunge at her, teeth bared, like Roxanne’s Pekingese.
The barking grew in volume as two dogs emerged from the trees. They hesitated at the edge of the meadow, their necks turned, their eyes apparently fixed on someone behind them. They looked like collie crosses, white splotches on semi-long black hair and plumed tails held straight. A streak of tan separated black from the white blaze on the larger dog’s face.
If Muriel weren’t afraid of imminent attack, she would think the dogs pretty.
“Laddie! Lass! Hold up there!” A man shouted from the woods.
Muriel prayed yesterday for someone responsible to mow her grass. Someone cheap. It was a simple, straightforward request. Not one bit of ambiguity. And now, here she was all alone—again—and in danger of being mauled by dogs. How could God have gotten everything so wrong? She was worse off now than before she’d prayed. She struggled to sit up, putting on Kevin’s jacket as she did so.
The man who emerged from the woods wore an Irish tweed hat. A few strands of gray hair spilled out below. His faded blue jeans, torn at the knees, were poised precariously in the middle of his ample girth. The thin red suspenders stretched over his stained white T-shirt did not look substantial enough to prevent the inevitable descent of his jeans.
Muriel stared, speechless.
The man raised his eyebrows. “Well, well. What are you doing in my field, pretty lady? This is no place for the likes of you, I’m sure.”
When was the last time somebody had called her a pretty lady? This man should go home and put his bifocals on. Muriel cleared her throat. “Our car broke down. We had to spend the night. We just need to get some gas, and then we’ll be on our way.” She emphasized the words our and we.
The man turned around, scanning the property. “What do you mean we? I don’t see nobody else.”
Muriel’s heart beat faster. “My grandson’s in the woods. Or maybe he walked to get gas. I’m not sure. I just woke up. He was
already gone.”
“If he walked after gas, he’ll be a long time coming back.” The man raised his eyebrows again.
If he tried to attack her, she would scream. Yes, that was a good plan. But there was nobody around to hear. She pulled her purse out from under Roxanne’s blanket, opened the clasp, and looked inside. “Well, never mind. My money is still all here. I guess my grandson didn’t go for gas after all. He’s probably just attending to his personal hygiene. He should be back any minute now.”
“You mean he’s gone to take a leak?” the man asked.
Well, how rude. “If that’s the way you want to put it. I think I explained it quite adequately.”
“How old is your grandson?”
Muriel couldn’t admit that she didn’t have the foggiest idea how old Kevin was. It was probably best not to admit that Kevin had a gun either. “Fifteen,” her voice trembled. She tried again, adding more conviction to her tone. “My grandson is fifteen. A fine strapping young man. We’re all so proud of him. He just got his black belt in karate.”
The man looked around again. “No point in my waiting then, I suppose. Come on, Laddie. Come on, Lass. I’ll be back later to check on you and your grandson. You two are trespassing on my property, after all. It’s my right.” His brows rose, making his words seem like a threat.
“What if my grandson asks your name? What should I tell him?”
“Vernon. But you can call me Vern, pretty lady.” Vernon’s smile revealed a gap between his two top front teeth. He winked at Muriel then turned and headed back into the woods. The dogs followed at his heels.
The birds had stopped chirping while Vernon was standing there. Now they started up again. The logical conclusion was that Vernon had left. Could he have actually stopped and be spying on her? Could it be she had such weird and convoluted thoughts because she wasted too many lonely hours watching police shows? Police procedures were almost as logical as Euclidian math. If only Kevin would hurry back. Good thinking, Muriel. Hoping for your carjacker to return, and quickly, no less.
She hadn’t thought the world such a dangerous place when she was young. Her mother waited for her at the end of each day, hand holding aside a lace curtain so she could get a better view down the tree-lined street. Muriel used to resent the fact that her mother worried. There was no one to worry about her now. She missed that. Who would have thought?
Natalie was too busy with her women’s club luncheons and her book clubs. She seldom called. When she did, it was because she was concerned about Chloe gaining too much weight. Or because one of the high-end vendors they had chosen for Chloe’s wedding cancelled due to circumstances beyond their control, forcing Natalie to scramble to find and hire a different and probably inferior service. Natalie never seemed to worry about her mother living all alone.
Roxanne would be worried about her car.
And now Muriel was worrying about Kevin. Of all people! She ought to be glad he was gone. Kevin hadn’t just gone in the woods to use a tree for an outhouse.
The ruse about the money in her purse was some quick thinking on her part. She wanted Vernon to think she would not be alone for long. Apparently the trick worked.
So where was Kevin anyway? He might really be walking for gas. Or he might just be walking out of her life, leaving her all alone in the woods with a car that wouldn’t start, and an old man she didn’t trust who threatened to return. Oh, Lord, I hate being alone. You know I do. The only thing worse than being alone would be spending time alone with Vernon. She’d better figure something out fast. Muriel shook out the debris that had blown on the blanket overnight, and folded it up. The belongings from Roxanne’s trunk were still scattered all over the ground. The box of Crunchy Cashew Granola Bars lay on top of one of the piles. Muriel picked the box up and peered inside. There was one bar left.
Kevin must have saved this bar for her. Obviously, the bar he ate last night hadn’t killed him. He must have eaten the other six bars for breakfast. What a nice young man. But wait. Carjackers are not nice young men.
She looked again at the undecipherable lot numbers. If she had discovered this box tucked away in the back of a cupboard at home, she would have thrown it away. It didn’t matter how tight her finances were. Having to go to the doctor or, even worse, the hospital emergency room, would be a lot more expensive than buying a fresh box of granola bars.
Her immune system might not be as good as Kevin’s. Her stomach certainly wasn’t as strong as a teenage boy’s. There was only one compelling reason to eat the bar. She was ravenous. The last time she was this hungry, she’d been pregnant with Natalie. It felt good to be hungry again. Better than sitting down to eat just because the hands on the clock were at some arbitrary position.
She tore the wrapper open and inspected the bar. It didn’t smell stale. There was no visible mold. She took a nibble off one edge, then swallowed. She waited a minute or two then took another bite of the bar, savoring the blend of sweet and salt. Footsteps pounded the ground again.
Muriel scanned the area. A tree with a gnarled trunk and low, staggered branches stood just yards away. Perhaps an apple tree, long neglected, left over from an abandoned orchard. The knots would be easy to climb if she were younger. They stuck out a good two inches each. Muriel remembered climbing a tree at a cousin’s country cottage when she was nine. She had won the hide and seek game. No one thought of looking up in the air for her. They only looked in the bushes and behind the out buildings while she restrained a giggle high among the dense green leaves. Would the same trick work now?
She hid her purse under the folded blanket and walked as fast as she could toward the gnarled tree. Who was coming? Was it Kevin? Vernon? It could even be a different male, one more sinister, one who would do her immediate harm.
She would have to be quick.
Perhaps whoever it was would be satisfied with stealing her purse. Oh, Lord, Natalie’s mirror is in that purse. Natalie’s precious mirror. Muriel’s heart sank. It was the only thing she could never replace: the hand mirror eight-year-old Natalie had given her. The first present Natalie ever bought anyone with her own money. “I spent all the money I had on you, Mom,” Natalie had whispered. If Muriel lost that mirror, she would be devastated.
There was no time to go back for it. Anyway, the mirror was more apt to fall out of her pants pocket than to be stolen. Anyone could see it wasn’t valuable even though the glass bits on the back glittered prettily when the light was right. If somebody grabbed her whole purse, she had no hope. But if somebody went through its contents, they would surely leave a cheap, gaudy mirror behind.
Muriel hurried to the tree and put her right foot on the lowest of its many knots. Grabbing a branch just above her head, she tugged hard. She moved her left foot to another knot a little farther up the trunk. Still holding the tested branch with her right hand, she tugged on a higher branch with her left hand. Climbing trees was harder than it was when she was nine. And much more exhilarating. She never thought about her body sixty-two years ago. It just did what she told it to. But there was no time to think of the past now. Muriel put her right foot on the next knot and pulled herself up. She needed to get into the dense foliage where she could see but not be seen. She was getting dizzy from the height. Here she was, suspended between heaven and earth. No, wait. Halfway between heaven and earth. Yes, that was even better. She always did have a knack for words. She stopped to listen and couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore. Instead she could hear breathing. Breathing just a few feet behind her.
She froze, unable to climb higher, unable to even turn around.
7
“Uh, Mrs. B. What are you doing?”
“Who, me?”
“No, the other lady climbing the tree.” A pause. “Yes, you.”
“Oh, Kevin, I’m so relieved it’s you. I was climbing this tree.”
“Well, I can see that. But why?”
“I was afraid of this old man who came out of the woods a little while ago. So when
I heard footsteps, I did the only logical thing I could think of.”
“Maybe you could have locked yourself in the car?” Kevin asked.
“Oh. Well, that’s a thought, too.” My goodness. How dumb could I be? Howard would have been rolling his eyes.
“Well, come on down, Mrs. B. Look what I’ve brought.”
“No, thank you. I can’t come back down.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m kind of suspended here. Halfway between heaven and earth. Don’t you like that expression? I made it up all by myself. Halfway between heaven and earth. Yes, that’s me.”
“Mrs. B, you’re two feet off the ground. You can just jump down.”
“No, I don’t think I can jump. The last time I jumped that far, I was on a trampoline in my high school gym class. There were spotters all around. Even then I didn’t feel safe. I certainly don’t think I can jump now.”
“Well, what’s your plan? Are you going to cling to that tree for the rest of your life?” Kevin chuckled.
Muriel straightened her back and raised her chin high. “If I have to keep clinging to this tree then, yes, that’s what I’ll do. But I don’t think it will be for the rest of my life. I’m quite sure somebody will help me. Soon. Perhaps.”
”I take it you’re, like, going to wait for one of the thousands of people who are traveling down this deserted road you picked yesterday because you were afraid to merge?”
“Well…”
“Or maybe you’re going to wait for that old man who scared you before?”
“No problem. If I hear him coming, I’ll just climb higher up.”
Kevin’s chuckle became a full-fledged guffaw. “Mrs. B, look at you. You’re not going any higher up. Not in a million years. Give me your hand. I’ll help you down.”
“No. I can’t give you my hand.” Muriel shook her head, considering. “No. I’m pretty sure I can’t do that either.”
“Why not? Didn’t I help you yesterday when you got stuck over that console?”