Luckily the only person she encountered in the stairwell was a lonely, drunken foreign student on the fifth floor landing who looked like she’d have trouble describing her own kin, let alone a white girl on the run. A fugitive. My God, she and Dace were now fugitives from the law. What if there was a shootout? Don’t be stupid, she told herself. It would never come to that. This wasn’t television or the movies. It was just her life, her crazy life.
Run, just run. Don’t stop. Watch your footing, you fool.
It was a long way down, but she made it to the bottom of the stairs and slipped out the back door. She heard somebody whistling and saw a plainclothes policeman approach the rear of the student residence from the opposite side. He missed her by inches in the dark. She crouched behind the closest dumpster, watching him. If he glanced in her direction, he would see her eyes glowing like a feral cat’s in the dark. Her hamstrings started to ache. At the entrance to the residence, the policeman looked both ways then slipped a credit card into the lock.
Joe Accardo would probably phone later on, looking for the scoop, but by then she was on her way to Trenton in a National Grocer truck, clutching her scarf around her throat, listening to the driver complain about his wife. The burly, black-haired man was about forty with sideburns and a moustache, and he thoughtfully shared the sandwiches his wife had packed, white turkey on rye with lots of mayo. He even offered her a beer from a six pack under his seat.
He told her she looked a little peaked. An old fashioned word, she thought, glancing at him with surprise. A pretty girl shouldn’t study so much, ha, ha. Shouldn’t hitchhike either. Where was her boyfriend on Christmas Night? She had one, didn’t she? He knew what little co-eds were like. Long hair, hot pants, like to dance …
Yeah sure, Liza said, playing along. By now she was too paralyzed with anxiety to even think up an excuse for her flight. Please God, she thought, trying to look past the man’s lewd idea of jokes. Please be all talk and no action.
At her pace, it took almost an hour to hike along the river to the highway. The ride to Trenton should have only taken another hour or so, but an accident near Belleville held her and her rescuer hostage, taking too much time. Time she didn’t have.
Chapter 35
Shelter
Sleep, my darling, sleep;
The pity of it all
Is all we compass if
We watch disaster fall.
Put off your twenty-odd
Encumbered years and creep
Into the only heaven,
The robbers’ cave of sleep
*[ MacNeice, Louis, “Cradle Song”]
Thank God, thank God, thank God!
Dace stepped out of the shadows when she arrived at Mel’s late that night. Apparently he’d been waiting for hours, though he’d occasionally snuck into the basement of the house to get warm. Well, why the hell not?
He was there!
Breathless, wild-eyed, her bell-bottom jeans sodden with snow, she stood frozen for a moment, staring, slightly shocked to see him standing next to a blue fir, dead centre on the Melvilles’ lawn. Behind him the windows of the Melvilles’ red brick split level house glowed, competing with the multicoloured Christmas lights outlining every door frame, every eave. Besides being cold, he had a three-inch-long cut on his chest. He had lots of penicillin so it would be all right, he assured her. He opened both his cotton doctor’s shirt and his thin jacket to show her. He was coatless. High spots of red blazed on his cheeks.
She’d only had to walk a block from where the truck driver dropped her off, but she’d forgotten her boots and her running shoes were soaked. Her nose was dripping. She found a crumpled kleenex in her pocket and blew into it, still staring at his face. He looked much older, but so dear, so …
She lunged forward, trying to hug him without pressing too hard against his hurt chest. She could barely stop herself from sinking her fingers into the lank hair curling at the back of his neck. Although she had hoped to find him here in Trenton, she hadn’t really expected him.
“The basement door was unlocked, wasn’t it?” She took his face in her hands. It was slick with sweat, although his teeth were chattering. My God, it had been months since she’d touched him, except in her dreams. But he still smelled the same and oh, he would taste so good. She fell on him, kissing him over and over, wanting to swallow him whole. He held onto her like he would never let go.
When her bag slipped from her shoulder to the ground, she stopped kissing him long enough to kick it under the fir tree with one foot. “Mel said it’s always unlocked. Nothing bad ever happens to them.”
Glancing in both directions, she grabbed his arm and tugged him, wanting to take him somewhere—anywhere but out here in the open where all the neighbours could see. “Let’s get inside. You look like a bum even in the doctor’s clothes.”
“Thanks, lady.”
She stepped back a little and took another look at him. “Why are you sweating? And your hair—what have you done to your hair?” she asked, her voice rising. “It’s all slicked back, kind of Mohawk style. Looks almost black.”
“Shhh. It’s Doc’s Brylcreem. A little dab will do ya …,” he sang off-key. “I took that and his scissors, too,” he said, stopping to kiss her again. “God, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long—all through that frigging trial while you sat there looking like you were at a public hanging and I was next.”
“Great. So that’s what Gold meant when he said you were armed. Are they big scissors?” she asked, steering him through a rose arbour to the yard behind the house. He stopped her just before they collided with a bird feeder on a pole. “Oh, yeah, well, they’re pretty big. Put them away for now,” she ordered, then gasped, startled by a fake deer. The swimming pool must be covered. She couldn’t see it in the dark under the snow.
Ah, good. There was the basement door. She felt a bit like Dorothy trying to escape the tornado in The Wizard of Oz. “Hurry, Dace. If anybody sees us, they’ll think it’s Mel’s father, that he’s having some kind of romantic assignation! His grandmother … oh, there’ll be hell to pay. Oh my God, I just heard somebody come out on the front porch.”
“Shh, it’s just some neighbours. They’ll be gone in moment,” he said, his arm around her shoulders, his dead weight almost drilling her into the frozen ground. “Big shebang here tonight, a drop-in affair. Everybody’s half-corked, but it works for me. If anybody saw me, and I don’t think they did, they probably thought I was with somebody else. There are lots of strangers in town, people with out-of-town guests. Stop pulling me, Liza. I can’t hang around here much longer, skulking in shadows. Even the cops aren’t that stupid. If they don’t find you in rez, they might think about coming here next.”
“All the more reason to get into the basement. Quick. This way,” she said, bending to lift the storm cellar door off the lawn. The latch slipped in her cold hands, but he came forward and grabbed it.
“I know, I know. Jesus, I’ve been alternately boiling and freezing my ass off for the last two hours, running in and out. I’ve got chills, I guess. Where the hell have you been? I spent half an hour in payphone at a gas station, calling collect.”
“My God. How many people saw you?”
“I dunno. Not too many people; the gas station was closed. Merry Christmas, I kept saying, like I was making a bunch of Christmas calls. There was no answer at the rez. I couldn’t even raise the switchboard, so I called our parents. They were all wrecks, although I don’t think your mother even realized who I was. Your father—fuck, I’m sorry, darling, but is that redneck really related to you and me? I won’t accept the charges, he said. Then I called Mel’s. Guess who? I said and somebody goes, Oh, don’t try to fool me, Howard. Patty said you’d be calling for directions and they told me how to get here. Good people, the salt of the earth. Little darling, you could do much worse.” He stopped, his teeth chattering again.
Liza looked at him in amazement. He had never talked so much. “Slow down, Dace, s
low down. It’s okay.”
“I probably could have waltzed right in the front door, but then I wouldn’t have been able to watch for you. Mel’s with a hot little number in a blue velvet dress, but she doesn’t hold a candle to you. Have you slept with him yet?”
“What did you say?” she asked. She didn’t move quickly enough to avoid a smack on her rear.
“You heard me,” he said with some difficulty. His voice, with each little exertion he made, had begun to come in short gasps.
“No, of course I haven’t. I’m like you. I don’t like doing what I’m told,” she lied, edging down the wooden steps as quietly as she could. He closed the heavy door stealthily over their heads, and she felt as if he were sealing them in a tomb. “There’s another exit from down here. A side door. This house is corner lot so it goes out onto a different street.”
“I …” he tried to say, going down a few more stairs.
“Dace, for God’s sake, stop trying to talk. You’ve been practically babbling! It’s hard to understand you when your teeth keep making that noise. And it’s annoying besides. Are you all right? You should have been at the border by now! It’s almost a four hour drive to Niagara Falls, even from here. The Peace Bridge …”
“Baby, I know that’s what we talked about, but I can’t go that way.”
“What do you mean? You can’t cross at Thousand Islands. It’s much too close.”
He paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, resting his hot face against a cool cinder block wall and breathing hard. “It won’t work,” he managed. “The trucker who gave me a ride had a CB radio. They had a description, but fortunately it didn’t match mine. Still, they say I’m armed and dangerous. All major checkpoints are closed. The moment they sober up and get the right picture, I’m screwed.”
She reached out a hand towards his shoulder but there were obstacles in the dark. She’d only been in the place once before. “Oops. I forgot how much junk there is down here,” she whispered, bending down to nurse a bruised shin. “The Melvilles don’t throw anything away. It foils intruders, I suppose. I can’t see—did you find a flashlight?—oh, good. Be careful, don’t flash it around like that.”
“Would you stop telling me what to do?”
“There’s a bomb shelter in here someplace. Mel showed me. They almost never use it. Behind some tools on a fake wall.”
“I already found it,” he said, pointing proudly. “There was a razor there, so I had a shave in the laundry tub or you might not have recognized me. Cut a bit of my hair, too.”
“You didn’t!” Liza dashed over and stared in horror at the deep tub on the right, thickly coated with his reddish dark hair. “My God,” she scolded, scooping large clumps up and stuffing them in her pockets before turning on both taps to rinse the rest of the evidence away. “You left hair in the sink!”
“I even had a little nap, waiting for the penicillin to kick in. Stop splashing around in that water and get over here. Look,” he said, taking her arm when she reached him.
He opened a metal door to a room about the size of his former cell and they both went inside. He shone the flashlight onto a sleeping bag on the tiled floor and clicked it off. Liza maneuvered the wall back into position and closed the heavy door behind them, bolting it from the inside. Unwinding a six foot woollen scarf from her neck, she rearranged it at the bottom of the door to block any light. A candle burned in the corner, illuminating steel walls. The light wouldn’t be visible from the tool side of the wall.
“Hmm, real cozy. Any food?”
“Canned stuff, but they forgot to pack an opener. So if a bomb doesn’t get them they’ll starve. I opened up some sardines, though, with the little key. Don’t worry, I also ate a whole package of mints. There’s some money here, too. An emergency fund, I guess. And there’s a first aid kit with some antibiotics, a bottle of Scotch and a stash of grass.”
“Oh God, I hope Mel doesn’t decide he wants to smoke up tonight. Take everything, Dace, take everything. I’ll get some cash out of the bank after Boxing Day and pay them back.”
“Liza, you don’t have two hundred bucks to spare,” he said, watching her eyes glow in the candlelight.
“Yes, I do. Second semester’s tuition will just be a little late. And who knows? Maybe I should just forget about school.”
“Don’t you dare. My father will pay you back. Liza, he’ll help you with whatever you need, do you hear me? Go to him. He’ll never refuse you and he’ll know how to get money to me, too, whenever I ask. He’s done it before. C’mere. You’re shaking like a leaf.” He laughed. “Looks like it’s not enough that I’ve made you totally wanton, you’re a little crook now, too,” he said, pulling her to him by the lapels of her coat. He laid her down on the sleeping bag and covered her body with the length of his. For several minutes, they just lay there. Then he started to relax a little, his breathing coming easier.
“Baby,” he whispered, wrapping a large hand around her throat and kneading. “I’m so sorry. Everything’s going to be all right. Open up and let me in.”
For the first time, she refused him. “Shh, Dace. Don’t,” she said, pushing her hands against his shoulders and freeing her throat. “We can’t. What if somebody hears? Besides the police are probably on their way.”
“Darling, you give them too much credit. I was worried when we were outside, center stage, but it’s safe enough in here. Listen to that music. Some kind of classical stuff.”
“Yeah, sounds like a dirge. Very lugubrious.”
“Nice word. I can almost see what it means, but talk English next time, smarty pants. The party’s upstairs. Nobody will come down here tonight. Quit squirming, I want my Christmas present. It’s almost Boxing Day. What do I have to do, tie you up?” he asked, pinning her wrists together above her head with one hand and grabbing her hair with the other, forcing her to look into his eyes.
I wish you would, she thought, surprised to feel a familiar little thrill in her groin, although most of her was wet, cold and spent. I wish I could get on all fours and present myself to you again. When had that seemed like fun?
“Stop it, Dace, stop it!” she said, much against her will. “Right now. You’re shivering. You’re sick. It’ll be at least twenty-four hours before that penicillin really kicks in. How are you going to get across?”
“At Akwesasne.”
“Aqua what?”
“Akwesasne. I’ll have to backtrack, but it’ll throw them off the scent. Yeah, Akwesasne. It’s a Mohawk reservation near Cornwall. Straddles the Quebec and the American borders just like I’m straddling you. Lots of smuggling going on. Mostly cheap cigarettes, but it’s pretty easy to get across.”
“Smuggling? Oh so, the Wolfhounds …”
“Yeah, they’re getting in on some of the action. Dirt Beard’s cousin will pick me up in a car when I double back. I phoned him collect, too. The stupid bugger nearly hung up on me.”
“I guess the police won’t be expecting you to do that.The Wolfhounds are history as far they’re concerned,” she replied, no longer struggling, now that she knew he had a plan. A network of bikers would lead him down through the States. His father would finance him, and …“That’s what they think, but while I’ve been Inside, they’ve been growing, regen—”
“Regenerating.”
“And you—you never thought my bros were going to do me much good, did you?”
“I’m coming, too,” she said, ignoring his last comment. “And you know what? I bet we both have native blood. I used to hear stories. Granny Debo … our eyes …”
“No.” His voice was gentle.
“No what?”
“No, you’re not coming, Little Liza. I had to see you one more time. Aw Jeez, stop hitting me. You’ll be happier here, finishing school, hanging out with Mel. Look at you. You’re almost getting fat, you’re so relaxed. I used to be able to feel your bones. You can do anything you want, but I liked you like that, soft and bony all at once.”
�
��Relaxed! Oh God, I want to get out of here too. Or at least I used to. Before I went to Ireland that’s all I ever wanted to do.”
“You can’t come. Absolutely not. Too risky. If they find me, they’ll shoot to kill. Besides you’re not a biker’s girl, remember? That’s what you always said.”
“But Dace, the Life, that’s what got you back in jail, so they could—”
“And we both know that I might not be able to change quickly. I thought I could, but … Anyway, I’ll do what I have to do. Maybe with the bikers, maybe not. It’s high time I made my own way. We’ll see.”
“Give them up, Dace. For me.”
“Aw Liza, c’mon. It’s never that easy. And you’ll do what you have to do too. Remember all you wanted? All you wanted to be?” he said, almost burying her body with his. “Neither of us can do anything if we’re not free.”
“Dace, I can’t breathe,” she said, struggling to free her face from his chest and cocking her ears towards the door. “What’s that? I think somebody’s coming downstairs!”
He half-rolled off her, hoisting his upper body on his forearms. They hadn’t got all of him yet. He was still strong, she could see. Maybe he would be all right.
“Shhh, I heard it too,” he said, gripping her mouth so hard with his right hand he would leave a bruise. He kept it there through the next exchange. “Probably Mel wants his stash.”
“Melo!” a woman’s voice called then, much to their mutual relief, although they were still trying to ease behind a couple of boxes in the corner. Dace had already pinched out the candle with his free hand. “What are you doing, honey?”
“Aw Ma, can’t you leave me alone for five minutes?” Mel said just before he kicked the fake door.
Please, Liza prayed through Dace’s fingers. Go away, Mel.
“But, Mellie, we have guests! You have a responsibility! And this is your party. Have you spoken to the little Pisani girl yet?”
From the Chrysalis: a novel Page 32