by Amy Harmon
Johnny grabbed Maggie’s hand and began heading for the entrance doors like he didn’t have a care in the world. Chief Bailey had parked himself in front of them, along with a young officer who barely looked older than the kids he was questioning. Maggie had thought Johnny would find a back entrance or devise a distraction. Nope. He was walking right up to Chief Bailey, easy as you please. Maggie looked around in panic, wondering if she should abandon Johnny and try to exit on her own, maybe hide in the ladies’ bathroom until the prom was over so she could sneak out after the police had gone. Her eyes landed on a figure slouched against the back wall. He had watched her walk across the floor, her hand in Johnny’s. He tipped his chin at her now and raised his hand in a jaunty wave. Maggie didn’t wave back. She had no desire to encourage Roger Carlton in any way. She looked around for Irene, but the crowd was thick, and several couples were making their way to the exits, curious about the stolen car and wanting in on the action.
“Hiya, Chief Bailey,” Johnny called out as he neared the policeman.
“Hi Johnny. You haven’t been out stealing cars this fine evening, have you?” The police chief spoke without rancor, but his eyes were sharp, and Maggie figured he didn’t miss a whole lot. Her gut twisted anxiously. Johnny’s hand tightened briefly around hers. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and handed them to Clark Bailey.
“You know what I drive, don’t ya, Chief? I can’t very well drive two cars at once, now can I?”
“No, but I actually heard that it might have been a lady driving the getaway car. I’m afraid I don’t know your date, Mr. Kinross.”
Maggie froze, and her mind scrambled for something plausible to say. She almost blurted out that she was related to the Honeycutts when the thought entered her mind that maybe Nana had already put the newly arrived “cousin” together with the stolen car, and informed the police that she was a possible culprit.
“I’m Maggie. I’m related to the Russell girls,” Maggie lied smoothly, extending her hand to Chief Bailey. “Nice to meet you, sir.” The funny thing was, Maggie had been in trouble many times before. Foster kids were the first ones to get fingered if something went missing or somebody got hurt. This was the first time, though, that she was actually guilty of exactly what she was under suspicion for. She felt like her guilt was written in black Sharpie across her forehead.
“Nice girls, Cathy and Shirley. Now are you related on their father’s or mother’s side?”
Maggie smiled and prayed she wasn’t walking right into a trap. “Their mother and my mother are first cousins. I’m just visiting.” Not too close, but close enough for there to be a thin layer of protection. It would be just her luck if both Mr. and Mrs. Russell grew up in Honeyville, their siblings and family trees well known by all who grew up alongside them.
“Hey, Chief! You writin’ a book? The girl didn’t steal a car. She’s been with me all night. Can we go, please? I promised I’d have her home early.” Johnny started to move forward, and Chief Bailey stepped aside and let them pass. They were just about out the door when the chief called out after them.
“Say hello to your mother for me, Johnny.”
Johnny stiffened, and Maggie glanced back in surprise. Clark Bailey must have realized after the words left his mouth how they might be perceived. His cheeks darkened briefly, and he turned away, launching into an immediate interrogation of the next couple in line.
Maggie looked up into Johnny’s face, and his mouth was set in a hard line.
“Johnny?” He glanced down at her. “I know it’s none of my business...but trust me on this. Clark Bailey genuinely likes your mother, and he meant no disrespect.”
Johnny’s eyebrows shot up, and he halted in his tracks. “Is that so?”
“Yes.....it is.” Maggie struggled to find words and finally just sighed and said, “There are plenty of bad guys in the world. I just didn’t want you misjudging one of the good guys.”
“Pretty tight with Chief Bailey, are you? He sure didn’t seem to know who you are. Come to think of it, that “good guy” you defend so readily wouldn’t hesitate to throw your pretty tail in jail if he knew you stole that....” Johnny’s voice faded off as he took note of the cop car, complete with flashing lights, parked beside Mary Smith’s pilfered car. A police officer leaned against it, chewing his finger nails, clearly bored.
“You stole an Edsel?” Johnny’s voice was filled with incredulous mirth, and he covered his mouth as if trying to hold in a belly laugh.
“A what?” Maggie was clueless.
“If you’re going steal a car, baby, at least steal something classy. Shoot! The Edsel is the biggest waste of metal on the road. Mark my words, in a couple years that car isn’t gonna be worth a damn dime.” Johnny squeezed the bridge of his nose as if he were afraid he might start to howl and draw unwanted attention.
“What?” Maggie was baffled. She’d never even heard of an Edsel. “I didn’t steal it to make a buck, silly!” she hissed at him, and whacked him with her little silver purse. She looked back at the car and at Johnny, who was still shaking his head and laughing, albeit silently. She couldn’t help but smile at his enjoyment of the situation. Her smile quickly faded, however, as the gravity of her problem started to sink in. She couldn’t go back to Lizzie’s house. Surely the police would return the car, which solved that problem. But Lizzie was going to be frantic. And Maggie had no place to go. Maggie walked several steps and sank down on the curb, her legs suddenly too weak to stand.
“Hey....hey, Maggie. I’m sorry, Doll. Don’t feel bad. I’m sure you’ll make a better choice on your next heist.” Johnny sank down next to her. “Hey....I’m teasing.” He tipped her chin up with a long finger. “Are you okay?”
Maggie felt the sudden urge to cry and looked away. “I don’t have anywhere to go....and I don’t know what to do. I have no money....I don’t have a set of wheels. Even an....an Ethel?”
“Edsel.”
“Right. Even an Edsel is better than nothing.”
“I see.” Johnny was quiet for a moment, and then he looked at her, and his eyes were soft and his voice gentle. “Well. First things first. Let’s grab something to eat. The Malt stays open late on Prom Night. We’ll beat the rush. Then we’ll find somewhere nice and quiet to have our picnic, and you’ll tell me your story. And then we’ll figure out what to do next.”
Maggie gave him a wobbly smile and a small nod of her head. “Sounds like a plan. Thank you, Johnny.”
Johnny stood, brushing off the black trousers he wore with his white sports coat. He extended his hand and pulled her to her feet beside him. He didn’t release her hand but kept it enveloped in his as he made his way to his car. He opened her door and waited until she was settled before he ran to his own, and without a backwards glance at the police car or the beleaguered Edsel, he spun out of the school parking lot and headed to The Malt.
~13~
A Time to Embrace
“She’s going to be worried about me,” Maggie murmured to herself.
“Who?”
“Lizzie Honeycutt. The car back there? It’s their housekeeper’s car. Lizzie and I thought she would never never notice it was gone. I was going to bring it back, really.”
“You stole the Honeycutt’s housekeeper’s car? Oh, this is rich,” Johnny sighed, a smile playing around his lips. He swung into The Malt’s parking lot.
“Maybe you should stay in the car, Bonnie. We don’t want any witnesses.” Johnny stepped out of the car, shutting the door firmly behind him. Maggie decided to stay put. He was back about ten minutes later, a brown bag of food in one hand and two glass bottles of coke in the other.
A car pulled up beside them in front of the diner. For a brief moment, Irene Honeycutt’s pale face was illuminated in the light pouring out of The Malt’s windows. Irene looked right at Maggie, and Maggie stared back, transfixed. Then Roger opened his door and stepped out, obscuring Maggie’s view, and Johnny backed out of the space and headed out of the lot.
Maggie quickly rolled the window down, calling for Johnny to stop.
“Irene! Irene Honeycutt!” Maggie called. Irene stopped, confused, and looked around in surprise.
“Hold on, please!” Maggie implored Johnny.
“Maggie--”
Maggie jumped out of the car and hurried back to where Irene stood, Roger at her arm, watching her run across the lot toward them.
“Irene. Please tell Lizzie I’m just fine. Tell her not to worry; tell her I’m with Johnny,” Maggie blurted out when she was within ten feet.
“Wh-what?” Irene stammered.
“Just tell her, please? She’ll understand.”
Irene looked at Roger and then back at Maggie. Roger smirked at Maggie and turned to go inside.
“Oh, and Irene?”
“Yes?” Irene looked extremely dubious, and she kept eyeing Maggie’s dress suspiciously.
“You need to get a new boyfriend. That one’s bad news.” Maggie’s voice was loud enough for several other couples entering the restaurant to hear. She tossed her head toward Roger, who had stopped in his tracks and was staring at her open-mouthed. Irene looked like she’d been slapped. Maggie didn’t know if it would make a difference, but she had to try. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
She couldn’t say more. The insistent tugging from the pit of her stomach had started as soon as she had opened her mouth to warn Irene. Frantically, she turned and ran back to Johnny’s car. He had stepped out of the still running Bel Air and stood framed in his open car door, hands in his pockets, waiting for her. She could tell by the expression on his face that he’d heard the entire exchange. She hustled to the passenger side and got in as he slid back in beside her.
“Will you hold my hand for a minute...please?” Maggie gasped. The pull had grown stronger. She was paying for her interference. NO! She couldn’t leave now!
Johnny looked at her, his eyes serious and his head cocked to one side. Without a word, he stretched his hand out and she grasped it, clinging to it with both hands. It was big and calloused and warm. She focused on the ridges and grooves, the length of his fingers and the width of his palm. She rubbed slow circles into his skin with her thumbs, the back and forth motion soothing her and quieting the intense quickening within her.
Johnny let her be for a few minutes, but then pulled on his hand, silently asking her to let go. She did so immediately, but felt the loss acutely, as if he were a lifeline in a raging storm. He tossed the food onto the seat behind them and with one steady motion leaned over and pulled her up tight against his side. Oh, the advantages of a bench seat.
“I need my hand for a minute, but you hold onto me if you need to.” His voice was gentle and without reproach, and Maggie thought, not for the first time, how unthreatened he seemed by her wild behavior. She had blown into his life less than an hour ago...and brought havoc in her wake. He hadn’t even batted an eye.
“Where are we going?” Maggie asked, burrowing into his side. She really didn’t care. For the moment she felt safe and exactly where she belonged.
“My favorite place to think and talk, or just be left alone, is the reservoir. There are some big trees, and a cool breeze comes up off the water. It’s not too hot yet, but it will be in another month, and the place will be hoppin’. It should be quiet tonight, though.”
In Maggie’s time, the reservoir had been closed to the public. Some tiny fish with a funny name had been discovered in the reservoir and a wildlife organization had come in and claimed the guppy-like fish was at risk of extinction. The government had stepped in and made it a preserve. So now the only creatures to enjoy the reservoir were the four-legged kind or the itty bitty three-finned variety. Kind of sad, Maggie thought. The reservoir was manmade, but that hadn’t mattered, apparently. As a result, she had never even seen the reservoir.
“I heard a story about you, this car, and the reservoir. It was a pretty cool story.”
Johnny looked down at her in wonder. “You heard that story?”
“I did,” Maggie smiled. “Your reputation preceeds you.”
“Boy, I hope not,” Johnny grinned. “And here I know nothing about you...well, other than you steal cars, you’re beautiful, and you don’t like Roger Carlton. Of course, I find all three of those attributes almost impossible to resist.”
It was Maggie’s turn to laugh, and laugh she did. “Is that why you called me Bonnie back there? Like Bonnie and Clyde?”
“Yes, ma’am. Bonnie was a beautiful woman, too. And she was also a famous thief. I’m not volunteering to be Clyde, though. Those two ended up getting shot to death in their vehicle, didn’t they? I like my car too much to take that kind of a chance.”
“I don’t think there would have been a Bonnie without Clyde.” Maggie flirted a little.
“Oh you don’t, do ya? Well you might be right about that. Behind every bad man is a woman who can’t resist him.”
Maggie didn’t respond. There was a story in that comment, though his voice suggested he was kidding.
Johnny drove the car up a long bumpy incline that finally leveled out at the top. Slowing to a stop, he put the car in park. The moonlight spilled softly onto the surface of the lake, and Johnny cranked his window down, letting the night air brush their cheeks and fill the interior of the car. Maggie scooted over and out the passenger side, and Johnny pulled their food from the back seat. He popped the trunk, pulled out a scratchy army blanket, and spread it out on a relatively flat area several yards from the car.
They made short work of the chicken, potato logs, and coleslaw. Maggie had thought she might not be able to eat, but the food actually steadied her, and the tugging eased and then ceased altogether as she ate her fill. Everything was delicious, and the Coke in a glass bottle was a treat. It tasted a little sharper than the Coca Cola of 2011, but she liked the difference.
Johnny finished before Maggie, and he removed his bow tie and pulled off his sports coat, setting it behind him on the blanket. He made short work of the cummerbund as well. Rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning the top buttons of his white dress shirt, he lay back and sighed like he’d just been released from shackles and chains.
Maggie wished she could unclip her nylons from the garter belt and roll them off but thought it might create the wrong impression. She settled for slipping off her shoes and laying back beside him, a couple of feet between them, looking up into the firmament.
“So what was that all about -- the scene with Irene Honeycutt and Roger Carlton? I think you made an enemy out of Roger, maybe out of both of them.”
“Irene is family. It’s complicated,” Maggie sighed, knowing that if she were going to stay beside Johnny under the moonlit sky, she would have to tread very carefully. “Her little sister is afraid of him, which is always a warning sign. Kids and dogs, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, when kids or dogs don’t like someone, it’s usually a pretty a good indication of a person’s trustworthiness.”
“So you just decided to call him out and tell Irene he was no good based on that?”
“It was the truth,” Maggie declared vehemently, and dared him to deny it.
“Hell, yes, it was,” Johnny agreed, and laughed a little. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, Bonnie.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be here! I had to speak up when I had the chance,” Maggie defended herself lightly.
“So you’re new in town, and you don’t know how long you’ll be here. How did you find yourself at the prom, without a date, in a stolen car?”
“I had an amazing dress.” Maggie stalled.
Johnny just turned his head and looked at her, his face patient, waiting.
Maggie decided to go all in. “I went to the dance to find you.”
Johnny sat up slowly and looked down at her, laying with her hair spread around her, skin porcelain in the darkness.
“You better be careful, little girl,” Johnny’s voice
was quiet, but his eyebrows were drawn together over his deep set eyes, eyes that were colorless in the white light of the moon. “You’re all alone out here with someone you really don’t know, saying some pretty serious things. You could give a boy the wrong idea.”
Maggie felt frustration well up inside her and tears gather in her eyes. Gravity betrayed her, and several leaked out the corners and hurried straight down to pool in her ears.
Johnny reached out and wiped one damp trail with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Maggie just shook her head a little, and his hand fell away from her face, but he braced it next to her head and continued looking down at her.
“Have you ever been somewhere, doing something when all at once you swear you’ve done it all before? Everything feels like it’s repeating itself all of a sudden?” Maggie asked hesitantly.
“Like Deja vu?” Johnny answered
“That’s what some people call it. My friend Gus told me that his grandma said Deja vu is actually time changing its mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“She described it as time making a shift from the way things were to the way things are, and sometimes we feel that shift, or briefly remember how things were....before.”
“Before what, Maggie?” Johnny’s voice was hushed, but he didn’t sound frustrated or even confused. He was just listening.
“Before someone or something caused time to change.”
They gazed at each other for several heartbeats, until the crickets started up softly and other night sounds wafted around them. Johnny seemed to be mulling over what she had said.
“Have you and I met before?” he asked finally.
“Yes....and no.”
Johnny waited again.