by Adi Alsaid
“We cannot wait to answer them,” Leila said, pulling her chair closer.
Timmy ashed his cigarette. “Good.” He squinted at Leila, either out of his sense of theatrics or because smoke had gotten into his eyes. “I like your moxie. You don’t meet many people with moxie these days.”
Sonia took another bite of Sam’s favorite doughnut. Stoner Timmy was staring off into the space between the two girls.
“Stoner Timmy, the question?”
“Right,” he said, snapping out of his daze. As far as he ever would, anyway. “First question. Who sent you here?”
“My brother, Mitch.”
“And he works for which government agency?”
“What? He doesn’t work for any government agency. He doesn’t work at all. He sits around and gets high all day. When he’s feeling productive, he bathes.”
“Far out,” Stoner Timmy said, smiling with approval. “What business have you with our neighbors to the north?”
“Why do you need to know?” Leila chimed in, clearly amused by mimicking his dramatically suspicious tone. “That hardly seems pertinent.”
“The success of my business depends on the consequences of my actions in Canada. If I bring in harmless people and keep a low profile, my business thrives. If, on the other hand, I bring in undesirables, my profile is raised, and my business is in jeopardy.” Sonia raised her eyebrows, impressed by Stoner Timmy’s sudden eloquence. “And shit,” he added as an afterthought, immediately cheapening what he’d said before. “So, if you’re going over there to kill someone or cast a spell that’ll cause all the forests to die, or whatever, people are gonna look to me. You see what I’m saying?”
Sonia looked around the restaurant to see if anyone was hearing this lunatic’s words. But no one was looking their way at all.
“We’re going to a wedding,” Sonia said, pulling the jewelry box out of Jeremiah’s jacket. “It’s in a few hours, and I have the rings.”
Stoner Timmy tucked his cigarette into the corner of his mouth and picked up the box, studying it with the wonder of someone examining a solved Rubik’s cube. Sonia’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she silenced it without pulling it out of her pocket, panicking at the thought of time running out. “Please, Tim, can you help us?”
After a few quiet moments Stoner Timmy casually opened the jewelry box, only briefly taking note of the rings inside before putting it back down on the table. “So your quest involves love and jewelry,” he said, ignoring Sonia’s plea.
“That is exactly what our quest involves,” Leila said. “One might even say that, without love and jewelry, we would have no quest.”
“Like so many others.” Stoner Timmy picked up one of the cups, peeked inside to make sure it hadn’t been used as an ashtray, then took a sip from whatever the liquid inside was. A little bit dribbled onto his chin; it was red, like Leila’s car. He wiped at it with the sleeve of his hoodie, where the stain disappeared into the swirls of color seamlessly. “You seem pure of heart and worthy of entry into the north, Interesting Eyebrows.” He nodded at Sonia, then at Leila, adding, “Full of Moxie. One last thing before I tell you the way into Canada. I just need to know...” He paused. Sonia found herself leaning across the table almost as much as Leila was, who by now could no longer contain her smile and was grinning as if the exchange was the funniest thing that had ever happened to her. “A) Are either of you wearing a wire? and B) Are either of you Time Lords?”
Leila gave Sonia an ebullient look, her eyes wide, biting her lip to keep the giggles from spilling out.
“Are we Time Lords?” Sonia asked, incredulous. What the hell was a Time Lord, and why would Stoner Timmy suspect either of the teenage girls in front of him of being one? But asking for an explanation from Stoner Timmy would likely unleash a whole new incomprehensible bout of rambling.
“No, I’m not a Time Lord. I’m not wearing a wire,” Sonia said.
Leila raised a hand. “I promise that I am not, I have never been, and will never be a Time Lord.”
Stoner Timmy plucked the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled slowly, his eyes fixed on Leila. “You sure? You’re not lost in time?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Leila said. She was trying to suppress a smile, but a few moments went by with Stoner Timmy studying her intently, and the glimmer in her eyes slowly faded. Suddenly, it felt as if something was being communicated between them that Sonia wasn’t privy to.
“You’re definitely lost in something,” Stoner Timmy said, taking another slow, long pull from his cigarette. “Canada may be her destination, but it’s not yours,” he said, his eyes still locked on Leila’s.
Then he leaned closer to them, bringing with him a surprisingly pleasant smell, coconut-scented sunscreen and freshly laundered cotton. He looked over his shoulder conspiratorially and waved them in closer. “The answer to your problem lies in the doughnuts. Bavarian crème, if possible.”
Sonia waited for more, but Stoner Timmy leaned back in his chair, looking intensely pleased with himself.
“Wait, what? That cannot possibly be all the information you’ve got for us.”
Blowing smoke out the side of his mouth (and directly at a neighboring table, whose patrons, shockingly, remained oblivious), Stoner Timmy frowned and scratched at a reddened patch of skin on his jaw that might have been a rash or just the result of too much scratching. “I’ve already said too much.” His gaze went around the room, as if scanning for a spy. Then he set his sights on the last bite of Sonia’s maple doughnut. “You gonna finish that?”
Her mind already scampering to find some other solution, Sonia shook her head and pushed the doughnut across the table.
“Remember,” he said, lifting it off the napkin, “the answer is in the doughnuts.”
He paused for a moment, as if allowing for some added meaning to sink in. But Sonia had no idea how doughnuts could possibly get her into Canada. She turned to read Leila’s response, but Leila looked just as perplexed.
When he finished chewing Sonia’s doughnut, Stoner Timmy waved at a kid who had just entered the Tim Hortons. The kid approached, and Stoner Timmy asked Sonia and Leila to excuse him so he could conduct some “business stuff.”
They stepped out into the early-morning sun, squinting as much at the gray-tinged Washington light as at the conversation they’d just been a part of.
“Well, that was interesting,” Leila said. She was smiling a little but seemed to pick up on the fact that Stoner Timmy’s bizarre advice put them basically right back where they’d started.
“The answer is in the doughnuts? How the hell does one enter a country with doughnuts?”
The question hung in the air, a small question compared to all the other ones Sonia left unasked. How would Liz ever forgive her for ruining the wedding? How would Martha feel about Sonia fleeing in the middle of the night? How disappointed would Jeremiah be with her?
Just as Sonia felt her frustrations growing into tears, Leila tapped her arm and pointed at a Tim Hortons delivery truck in the parking lot, its engine idling. The driver was unloading a stack of goods, ready to cart them inside. The store manager was nearby, checking things off on a clipboard.
“Last one,” the driver said, the words carrying across the parking lot as if on cue. The manager nodded, and the two of them walked side by side past Sonia.
“Look at the license plates,” Leila said. British Columbia. “That must have been what Stoner Timmy meant. The answer is in the doughnuts!”
Sonia looked back into the café, where the truck driver and the manager were unloading the cart. At this point, Sonia was willing to try anything. They speed-walked across the parking lot and peered into the back of the truck. There were cardboard boxes all around, stacked up high enough to reasonably hide behind, at least until the next delivery at the next Tim Hortons, which, Sonia knew from past road trips, was d
efinitely on the other side of the border.
Sonia, wanting to waste no time, hoisted herself up. Then she helped Leila climb in as stealthily as she could, which was not stealthy at all. Sonia banged her knee against the bumper, and Leila almost kicked a neighboring car. Hoping no one had noticed their clumsy climb, they rushed to hide behind a column of boxes near the back. They stood together, the two of them holding their breath and trying to resist the temptation to peek around the boxes to see what was happening in the outside world. When the driver came back, he closed the door without bothering to check if anything was amiss, shutting them in darkness as he shifted into drive and pulled out onto the highway.
6
THE SMELL OF doughnuts was strong in the air, sweet just below the point of cloying. The boxes were stacked high enough to feel like a fort, and they swayed with the movement of the truck.
“Hey, Sonia,” Leila whispered, using her cell phone to light up the area and finding a place to sit.
“Yeah?”
“Truth or dare.”
“You’re serious?”
“Do I seem like the kind of person who would joke about truth or dare?”
“Okay, dare.”
“I dare you to eat a dozen doughnuts before we get across the border.”
“Don’t be a jerk. I’ll get diabetes.”
“Okay, one doughnut. Bavarian crème, if possible,” Leila said stifling a giggle.
Sonia groaned softly and looked in the nearby boxes. “I can’t tell what any of these are,” she said, finding an easy carton to open without knocking anything over. She grabbed the first doughnut she put her hand on and took a bite. “Ugh, coconut.”
“You don’t like coconut?”
“You do?”
“Friendship over,” Leila said.
For all the strange circumstances surrounding the ride in the truck, Sonia couldn’t help but feel like she and Leila were two girls at a slumber party, up too late and trying hard not to giggle and wake the adults.
“Is it strange that I think this is kind of fun?” Leila whispered.
Sonia shook her head. “I was just thinking that.” She pulled out her cell phone, the screen illuminating the inside of the truck faintly, just enough to reveal their faces to each other. “We might actually get there on time.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Leila answered quickly.
“Tell me more about that guy.”
“Actually,” Leila started, “I think I may have forgotten all about him. Stoner Timmy is my new dream guy.”
Sonia snorted while trying to stifle a laugh. “I have to hand it to him. I did not think he’d be able to do anything helpful for me.”
“O ye of little faith. Never underestimate the helpfulness of a stranger. Even if he seems borderline insane.”
“Just borderline?”
“I didn’t say what side of the border,” Leila said with a smile.
They sat silently for a while longer, feeling the truck rumbling on down the highway, the massive tires spinning beneath them. Sonia started to relax. She leaned her head against the boxes. She imagined that this truck took the same route every day, that, though the American customs agents might search it every morning, its return trip was likely a little more lax. Her eyelids were just starting to droop when her phone went off again.
“Hey,” she said softly. “I can’t talk right now.”
“Look, I’m going nuts over here. Where have you been all night?”
Sonia had no idea how to summarize her night into a comprehensible phone conversation. “I’m on my way now. I should be there within an hour, maybe a little more.”
Forgetting for a moment the whole anger business with Jeremiah, Sonia felt the tingly anticipation of seeing him again, of kissing him hello.
“You said that last night, and you’re still not here,” he said.
“I promise, I’m on my way.”
That pause again, the one over the phone where she could perfectly picture Jeremiah and what he was doing. Half-naked, she guessed, boxers and socks (maybe even just one), ready to jump into the shower. Even if she was wrong, it was a joy to think that she knew him well enough to guess at his actions.
“Is everything okay?” he said, finally.
“Don’t worry about me, Jer,” Sonia said. Through the dark she could see Leila turn her head toward the front of the truck. Sonia cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “Are we slowing down?”
“Definitely,” Leila said. “You think we’re at the border already?”
“Could be.” She brought the phone back to her ear and said good-bye to Jeremiah, feeling optimistic for the first time in hours.
A few seconds later, the transmission hissed as the driver downshifted into park. Sonia brought a finger to her lips, pantomiming silence. Through the metallic walls, Sonia could hear the whoosh of cars on the highway, although it was hard to tell which way the sounds were coming from. She thought she heard a door slam, but it really could have been anything.
Then came the instantly recognizable sound of keys jingling. Sonia felt all the blood rush out of her head. Not again, she thought to herself. If we get caught again, it’s over. I’m going to jail, I’m ruining the wedding, and no one will want anything to do with me.
Daylight streamed in through the suddenly open door, and Sonia hopped up to her feet, even though there was nowhere to go. She pressed herself into the space between the columns of boxes as if she could camouflage herself with her surroundings. When the door had been propped fully open, there was a bit of grunting. Through a crack between two boxes, Sonia could see the silhouette of the driver climbing up into the truck.
“Come out, or I’m calling the cops.”
Sonia shot a glance at Leila, who’d remained seated, her knees pulled up close to her chest. What do we do? she mouthed. Leila shrugged, either because she hadn’t understood or because that was the only thing left to do.
“Pulling my cell phone out now,” the driver called out.
“Okay, okay,” Sonia said, stepping out, her hands instinctively raised in surrender. She wondered what she’d done to make the universe so set against her. Of course, as soon as that thought came, thoughts of Sam followed, and Sonia felt that she was getting what she deserved.
“What are you two doing in here?” the driver asked, one hand on his hip, the other holding up a finger at them in a caricature of an admonishing adult. “Stealing?”
“We’re not stealing,” Sonia snapped. “We just need to get across the border.”
“And you thought this would work?”
Sonia shrugged, her eyes set on the highway behind the driver. Leila started to say something, but the driver cut her off. “I don’t have time for this. Just get off my truck.”
He stepped aside and waited for them to hop off, then he slowly stepped down, wincing as his feet touched the pavement, the aches of what was probably nearly an entire lifetime of climbing up and down the raised platforms of semitrailers. “You might have actually managed to get away with it if you hadn’t been chatting away.” He motioned at the phone still in Sonia’s hand. Without a second glance back at them, he shut the door, climbed into the cab of the truck, and took off down the road, leaving Sonia and Leila beneath a cloud of dark exhaust.
* * *
It took Sonia and Leila about half an hour to get back to the Tim Hortons. Sonia couldn’t stop checking the time on her phone. Leila offered words of encouragement as they paced down the side of the highway, but Sonia didn’t think there was a chance she’d be able to deliver the rings in time. What kind of desperate last resort was there beyond Stoner Timmy?
The sun seemed to advance across the sky much faster than it should have, cutting behind gray clouds that would likely bring an afternoon shower. Cars sped by in
high-pitched blurs as if mocking Sonia.
Back in Bellingham, Sonia stomped her way across the Tim Hortons and plopped herself down in front of Stoner Timmy. “The answer was not in the doughnuts.”
He was sitting in the same table, smoking another cigarette, doodling on the back of his hand with a Sharpie, though there was a notebook in his lap. He looked at Sonia as if she’d never gotten up. “That’s a bummer, man.”
Just as Sonia was about to snap at him, she felt Leila’s hand on her shoulder. “We need another way across,” Leila said, her voice soft. “The delivery truck didn’t work.”
Stoner Timmy frowned, tucking the Sharpie into the matted nest of dreadlocks on the back half of his head. “Your quest didn’t call for a delivery truck.”
If Leila hadn’t offered a consoling squeeze, Sonia might have exploded at Timmy. Instead, Sonia sat back into the barely comfortable plastic chair and let Leila take control of the conversation.
“Clearly, our quest did call for a delivery truck,” Leila argued. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have gotten into it. We couldn’t have possibly gone against our fate, now, could we?”
Stoner Timmy took a long drag from his cigarette. “Go on.”
“What if our fate was to fail at first so we could meet with you again and have you show us the way? If this isn’t exactly what was supposed to happen, how could it be happening right now?” This time, Leila seemed serious, no tongue-in-cheek.
Flicking the cigarette quickly in order to drop the ashes into a coffee cup, Stoner Timmy cracked a smile. “Full of Moxie, are you sure you’re not a Time Lord?”
Without missing a beat, Leila responded, “Maybe I will be someday.”
Stoner Timmy smacked his palm down on the table, making the cups jump and people in the restaurant turn in their direction for the first time. “Very well! I will lead you myself. This will require a dozen Bavarian crème donuts and a car!”
“Very well!” Leila exclaimed, taking her turn smacking the table, then rising to buy the doughnuts. When she returned, box in hand, the three of them walked out of the Tim Hortons. Stoner Timmy left all his coffee cups on the table, and Sonia had the distinct impression that, whenever he returned, they’d still be there.