by C. Ruth Daly
Quietly, Evan grabbed the wheel and squinted down the road not knowing what had come over his best friend, Donna. He wondered if he’d keep living with Donna once they got back home. He hadn’t thought of home in so long, and he wondered what it would be like to meet up with everyone again—especially Trevor. His thoughts turned to the gold safely stashed under the seat of the truck and its box secured by a chain to the bottom of the bench seat. Evan thought about Donna’s mom and if she’d welcome him into her home.
He turned to Donna, who was mopping up coffee from her jeans with an unrolled roll of paper towels. His friend looked aged and he thought about her pretty dark brown hair and how his mom had hair like that. Evan thought this was a good time to say something nice to Donna.
“Looks like a mess, Donna. Maybe we should stop at a truck stop so you can shower before we git home.”
Donna glared at him and snatched the wheel back from Evan, overcorrecting the steering and saddled over the yellow line in the middle of the interstate. The car next to them swerved to its left and blared on the horn.
“Goddamn it, Evan,” Donna sighed and scrunched her shoulders then leaned against the wheel, “Just go back to sleep. I’ll drive until I can’t stay awake anymore and then I’ll stop. If you sleep now then you can stand guard while I take a nap. Do you still have the revolver under the seat in the back? And make sure the permit to carry it is on the visor.”
Like the obedient child, Evan flipped the visor down and checked. “Uh huh, it’s here and the 22’s in its case under the backseat.”
Donna relaxed and leaned against the seat, then focused on the road in front of her. Before she knew it, the slumberous snore of Evan began rippling from his flared nostrils and then bleated from his open mouth. Donna reached over and began moving the radio dial in search of any sound. She found the Paul Harvey show and listened to it until it was time to stop for gas.
The gauge showed the truck had one-quarter of a tank left, so Donna narrowed in on the next gas station and downshifted up the off-ramp toward the large truck stop in a field of dusty dirt.
She scanned the barren field with ripples of dust prancing across the horizon and thought it would be a good place to rest. Turning to Evan, whose mouth jabbered silently in his sleep, searching for food or snuff, Donna gave him a quick and hard nudge as she pulled up to the gas pump.
“Hey, get out and pump, would ya? I did it last time, and besides, I’m ready to sleep.” She got out and dumped the grounds of coffee from her cup into the trash can, missing the inside and dribbling the black refuse along the edge of the barrel. “I have to go pee. I’ll be right back,” then she walked toward the truck stop while Evan roused from his slumber and crawled out of the car.
Donna returned to see Evan still filling the truck, “Hey, let’s pull over here for a while, Evan, so I can get a couple hours of sleep, or do you think you can drive the next leg?” She didn’t trust her friend and still watched him like a toddler. Donna had spent too many nights listening to Evan guzzle cheap liquor and cry until he fell asleep. The social worker in her knew he needed help for his alcoholism but the man too often refused her advice.
“No, it’s okay, Donna,” he’d say to her, “This is how my dad did it. Every night he came home and got in his easy chair, grabbed a brew, and another and drank till he fell asleep. Yea, that’s right after Linda passed and it just worser and worser.” He’d shake his head and begin to whimper. “If it was good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.” As a friend, she felt bad for him; but as a professional, her responsible voice would come through, “Evan, there are services to help you. I can refer you to someone. There are programs to help you dry out.”
Right now though, she was too tired and she was anxious to get back to her roots and see family. She was willing to take the risk with her alcoholic friend at the wheel despite his trembling hands. Evan hesitantly slipped in behind the wheel and pulled out of the truck stop and on to I-40 while Donna leaned back, closed her eyes, and in the recesses of dreams encountered the villainous Ned Hollis. Too many nights she wrestled with her own demons—the remnants of a life once led—another thing she and Evan shared: a hatred for a man who injured the two of them years ago and was still damaging them today. She knew it was PTSD, but being too proud to address the apparent weaknesses in her soul, she chose to go through with the dream night after night as she relived a chase through the autumnal woods with the murderous Hollis at her heals. She was a young and naïve girl at the time. Years and experience had given her the illusion of confidence and accomplishment, but her inner-self knew the truth. She was still that young girl. And she was still afraid. Any tall blonde man with chiseled features made her twinge and any orange sports car still caused her heart to leap into her throat. No one knew Hollis still tormented Donna. He certainly didn’t, she thought. After all, he had been dead for close to fourteen years and even though Donna felt somewhat like a murderer, she never let herself believe it. Hollis certainly would have done her in first had he been the victor in that midnight chase, but no, Donna was the victorious one. She was the survivor. So was Glynda Myer and Lori Bell. So was Evan. But that Trevor Morrelli did little to warrant the title of warrior or survivor. He hopped on the proverbial glory train at the end of the route and took advantage of all of its rewards.
She could feel the sun on her eyelids and its warmth penetrated her cheeks, soothing the terror of her sleep. As the road moved beneath her, rocking her to sleep, Donna’s mind traveled between Arizona and Indiana, mixing up events and merging people into characters like and unlike the other. Her mind recalled the visit with Professor Lucero and was that Trevor Morrelli who smiled and nodded to her in the hallway. A woman strolled into her mind. A petite woman with brown silky hair tied at the nape of the neck. Oh so familiar. A drive across the desert to pick up her charge…visions of the Burgenton line and saying good-bye with Evan thanking her for all she had done…
Screech!! The truck jerked off the road and Donna bolted forward, “Evan,” she cried, “What the hell happened?” She looked in front of her to see they were parked on the side of the interstate. Evan’s hands gripped the wheel and his forehead rested on the top of the steering wheel.
The man mumbled a string of incoherent words and then repeatedly tapped his forehead against the top of the steering wheel. “Sorry, Donna, I just kinda blacked out for a bit. Dun no what happened.” Evan stared at Donna, his dark eyes set deep in his head were surrounded by wrinkled corners and lids, “I…it just went all dark for a moment and so I pulled over. Ya ain’t mad at me, are ya Donna? Maybe I should get help,” Evan muttered.
Donna’s furrowed brow above her greenish eyes and her hair sticking up in all directions made Evan laugh. He first began to chuckle at her then a harder laugh with intermittent spasmodic laughs came up from his belly and out of his throat.
His sense of humor did not amuse Donna, and she let loose a squeal, opened the truck door and got out, moving to the driver’s side she jerked the door open and yelled, “Get out.”
“Wha…what do ya mean, get out?” Evan asked with his arms shielding his face as if Donna would strike him. She reached into the car and grabbed him by the arm, half-pulling him out, but his girth was winning her battle. Evan complied and scrambled out and onto the side of the road. “What’s the matter, Donna? I...I jist thought it was funny how you was acting, that’s all,” he said with a slight pout.
Donna stared at him and relaxed her grip. The culmination of the three years of kowtowing to Evan and his every whim had reached a climax, and here she was along the side of a major thoroughfare and ready to pound the crap out of the pathetic being for whom she had so humbly cared. The tears in her eyes were about to break loose and Evan had never seen Donna cry. She so carefully hid her emotions from him that he often wondered if she was super-human. Bowing her head and releasing a furtive sigh, Donna walked away and to the side of the road where she wandered off into the dust-filled field, where she stood with
her back to Evan and the truck. She stared off in the distance to see the sun moving in her peripheral sight toward Arizona. She closed her eyes and let the wind with its dry heat and penetrating warmth soothe her inner pain and she let the frustrations of her life—Evan, escape from her. She removed her eyeglasses and wiped her eyes with the short sleeve of her t-shirt. She was done with her anger and ready to move on.
Back at the truck, Donna realized Evan knew her better than she thought for he relocated to the passenger’s side and had the bill of his cap pulled over his eyes with his head leaning back on the top of the bench. Without a word she got behind the wheel and pulled back into traffic and on to the next stop in their journey to Burgenton.
Chapter Four
At the next town Donna pulled over at a diner. Evan had remained awake for the past hour and the two drove east in silence with the setting sun filtering through the back window of the truck. “Let’s get a bite to eat, Evan,” Donna spoke quietly as she got out of the truck and stretched. The two entered the café; its white counter lined the front and a few small tables and booths stretched around the perimeter. A few locals were seen dining with the usual portly men and white haired ladies sitting at tables and in silence, introspectively eating their dinner. Donna questioned if they once looked like Evan and her, but no, Donna thought, he already looks like those older men, but not me.
The waitress walked up to the table and pulled a pen from her piled-up hair. “Well, what do you two want?” She smiled at Evan and Donna, giving more attention to Evan, Donna thought, funny how waiters and waitresses think the man always pays. She smiled slightly at the waitress and picked up the menu, telling the woman it would be a moment. Evan gazed over Donna’s shoulder and at the parking lot where a car with Arizona plates pulled up. A young man about their own age hopped out of a small foreign car and walked into the diner. Evan returned his attention to the menu and patiently waited for the waitress to return.
Their order placed and the two sat in silence with Donna sipping her coffee, her attention drifted to the television overhead and the weather report. Evan, with his back to the TV and his eyes on the patrons in the restaurant, thumbed at his utensils, playing with the curvature of the spoon and teetering it up and down on the edge of the table. His distraction did not bother Donna until he accidently flipped the spoon, sending it on a course across the floor where it landed by the stranger with the Arizona license plates. Donna glanced over to see the man with the curly brown hair reach over and pick up the spoon. He smiled at Donna and she returned the gesture, then brought her attention to the weather report on the TV. In the back of her consciousness, Donna thought the smile seemed familiar and she wondered if it was just a comfortable warmth from someone known long ago. She continued with her eyes glued to the television, not aware of her surroundings, nor of the man sitting across the table from her. Evan silently and deliberately ate every ounce of steak and potatoes on his plate them mopped the gravy with a biscuit.
When they were done, and Donna was finishing her third cup of coffee and chatting with the waitress about a to-go cup, Evan excused himself to step outside for a smoke. With her precious cup of coffee in her hand, Donna paid at the cashier’s stand, then headed to the restroom, and returned to see Evan outside in the parking lot puffing his cigarette and chatting with a man with dark, curly hair pulled back in a pony-tail. Their backs were to Donna and she questioned what it was with Evan that attracted strangers to him or was it the other way around? Despite her education and her pompous poise, she was still a social bungle. How did he do it? She asked herself.
The two travelers met up at the truck and Evan waved a good-bye to the man with the Arizona plates. Donna squinted in the stranger’s direction as she watched the man with his slim hips hidden beneath baggy faded blue jeans and a swaying pony-tail that hung below his neckline climb into his car. He picked up a road map and opened it, obscuring Donna’s view of him; then she and Evan climbed into the truck and headed out of the parking lot and back on I-40. As they drifted down the road with the slumberous duskiness of late evening welcoming them along their easterly journey, the quiet snores of Evan filled the cab of the truck, providing a melody to accompany the sound of tires gripping the asphalt. Donna relaxed her grip on the wheel and fell into reflective silence. Daydreams drifted in and out of her consciousness and in between sips of the java, an image jarred her memory and alerted her brain. Her right arm reached over the console and Ralph in the middle of the bench seat and she strained to feel for the gun safe and secure in its metal case beneath the small seat in the rear of the cab.
The man in the diner. He was not just a face like a reminder of one known well long ago, but a person she had encountered recently. The smile was recognizable now as the same young man by Professor Lucero’s office. He had smiled at her then and he smiled at her in the diner. Donna wondered what Evan and the man had talked about in the parking lot and she quickly reached over and nudged Evan again and again on the arm and then when no response was offered, she tugged at this beard.
“Whoa, what, what’s go ‘in’ on?” Evan asked in a raspy voice having not spoken or coughed for at least an hour.
“Evan, what did you talk about to the man in the parking lot? I…I think I met him before—or at least saw him, never really met him.” Donna’s heart was beating in her throat and she glanced in the rearview mirror, but no sign of the stranger lingered behind her, only in her thoughts. It was too dark to recognize a vehicle, and she had not gotten a good view of the car in the lot to make a note of it. “Evan, who was he? Did he say?”
With arms outstretched and after a long yawn, Evan Miles answered, “Yea, he said he was just traveling and asked where we was go ‘in. That’s all. We talked about the weather and he asked about Ralph and what kind of dog he was and stuff like that.” Evan reached over and scratched the ears of the sleeping pet that was snuggly curled up in between them. “I told him we was head ‘in to Burgenton, Indiana, and that we lived way out east of the Peaks near the reservation border. That’s all. Oh, yeah, he wanted to know about you, Donna. He asked if we was a couple,” Evan snorted a laugh and coughed into his sleeve, something Donna had taught him when they left Burgenton over three years ago. Donna was too picky about germs and stuff, Evan thought, then continued. “Can you believe that; he’s think ‘in we was go ‘in out?” Evan coughed again and with gut-wrenching spasms expectorated phlegm into his mouth, then rolled down the window and spat it out.
Donna pulled her hair back from the wind that pushed through the open window, “Evan, why’d you tell him specifics? Why did you tell a stranger we were going to Burgenton? Why not just say the Midwest?” Donna was frustrated and scared. She couldn’t figure out why the slender man with brown hair who happened to be outside of Professor Lucero’s office when she last visited could coincidentally be traveling eastward. The university was not on break. It was the second week of the summer school session. Could he be a teaching assistant and maybe he is heading to another university to conduct research? “Evan, what was he driving? Did you see?” She asked with a hint of hope for then she knew it would be easy to spot the man if they saw him again and her fears and suspicions would be confirmed. For all of these years she questioned if someone else knew about the gold. It did not concern her so much when she was in her teens, being naïve to think friendly people could be base and untrustworthy. Time and her experience had jaded her. Could she really trust Professor Lucero? Who was that woman entering his office? Or did the petite woman enter his office, or did I only think she was going to? Too many thoughts and worries entered her head. Had it been a mistake to enlist the knowledge of the history professor? He seemed kind and innocent. Here she was, soon to be twenty-eighty, and she thought she knew it all.
As a social worker she had dealt with many different people and thought she knew when they were manipulating her, or trying to pull a fast one on her. She would indulge them at times so they would trust her. Had Professor Lucero taken the
same role with her when she had frequented his office over the years, gathering any knowledge she could from the professor? Had her clients played her role to the same degree and indulged her or manipulated her to get what they needed? How many times had she felt the winner in the situation and gave them food for their families to only see them later lying in the alleys passed out from a drinking binge, knowing they had spent their SSI check on alcohol. She thought she had been doing the right thing in those situations. She was a social worker and her training taught her to give and care for those in need. But had she been tricked, and did Professor Lucero trick her, too? Did she think she was only indulging him and like her clients, get from him what she needed then walk away and abuse the situation?
Donna shook her head and a frown set in her face. Evan looked over at her, recognizing his friend was worried. “What’s wrong, Donna? Did I do something I shouldn’t of?” She thought he was always doing something he shouldn’t do. Donna was fed up with Evan Miles, but then again, she was the one who asked him to accompany her to Arizona. She felt sorry for him. Now she realized that was a mistake. Evan, too took advantage of her and her generosity—or did she let him take advantage of her?
“Yeah, Evan. It was not a good idea to tell him about us. You can’t trust people, you know? I know where I saw the guy before. It was at the university when I was leaving Professor Lucero’s office. I thought he just happened to be outside of his office…now I don’t think so, and I don’t know if it was smart to trust Professor Lucero.” Donna let loose a long sigh. “Let’s see what happens. You didn’t tell him we are armed, did you Evan?”
He turned to Donna and just stared at her, holding his tongue. Evan was tired of Donna treating him like an idiot. Just because he barely made it through the GED program and she went to college for seven years and got herself some degrees, she thought she was better than him. Evan knew though, that there was goodness in his friend. After all, like his family, he could trust her; but then again, he trusted his own mother and she betrayed him—so did that Trevor who treated him like a brother. Now here he had been living with Donna McNally, the hero who murdered a murderer. She was innocent and kind. Donna always knew best, he had thought. Thoughts surged through Evan’s mind and he dismissed them, “No, Donna, I didn’t mention the gun. I ain’t that dumb.” He turned his attention to the road ahead and the two drove on in silence.