Лоуренс Блок - Random Walk - A Novel for a New Age

So Sara told the story of how she’d met her husband, not liking him at first and not thinking he was really interested in her anyway. Jody told about his trip to Seattle right after high school graduation, and how he’d got the tattoo; he carefully left out the whorehouse visit that had been a highlight of the trip, but did mention how the three of them, staggering drunk across Pioneer Square, had come upon a pair of lovers on a blanket on the grass, and that one of their party — “And it wasn’t me, I swear to God it wasn’t me” — had unzipped his pants and baptized the passionate pair with urine.

And Thom told about the summer he’d spent a year ago at northern Michigan, and how one of the campers in the next cabin had drowned on a canoe trip. Thom hadn’t gone on the trip, his cabin had another activity scheduled, and that morning he’d said, to the boy who would later drown, “Have a good time on the river, asshole.” “So then he drowned,” he said, “and the last word I said to him was asshole.”

If it was cold that night, no one felt it. In the morning they straightened up the campsite and gathered wood and kindling to replace what they had burned. They were on the road early, and had pancakes and sausage for breakfast in Millican.

After breakfast, Guthrie walked with Sara. Thom and Jody were just a few paces ahead of them at first, but gradually the gap widened.

Guthrie said, “I’m glad we slept out last night.”

“We found a perfect spot.”

“I’d be glad even if we hadn’t. It did something for us as a group.”

“Bonded us.”

“I suppose that’s the word. Evidently we’re supposed to go through this together, whatever it is. So it’d probably be better if we got close with one another.”

“I agree,” she said. “And we don’t have much time.”

“What do you mean? You just got here, lady. You can’t be planning to leave us already.”

“No, hardly that. But it won’t be just the four of us for too much longer.”

“Oh?”

“You sound apprehensive, Guthrie.”

“Well, I didn’t plan on a mob scene.”

“What did you plan on?”

“I didn’t plan, period. I decided to go for a walk.”

“You didn’t just head on down to the corner store for a Coke and the evening paper.”

“No, I knew what I was doing. At least I knew I was walking away from my life and into—”

“Into what?”

“Into something different. I still don’t know what I’m walking into, so I certainly didn’t know then. You know how the idea came to me? I was waiting for a lady to finish having an abortion. It wasn’t my kid.” He frowned. “I don’t know why it’s important to include that last bit of data.”

“It’ll come to you.”

“Gee, I’d never guess you were a psychologist in real life, Sara.”

“Touché.”

“One thing I did know was that I didn’t want company. I was going to do this by myself. I never seriously considered asking anybody to keep me company. It was something to do all by myself.”

“And then Jody showed up.”

“And by then I was ready for company. I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea when he invited himself along, but I figured we could try it out for a day or two and see how it worked. And it worked fine, we hit it off great and his company turned out to be just what I needed.”

“And then Thom and I turned up.”

“And then you two turned up, and who could argue with that? A beautiful blind lady with gray flannel eyes and the power to cloud men’s minds so she cannot see them.”

“That was The Shadow, and I think you got it wrong.”

“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. It was pretty obvious that the two of you were sent. I mean, when people are waiting for you on the outskirts of the metropolis of Bend, they must have a hotline to the center of the universe. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think there was even a bright star over the Pine Haven Motel.”

“There was a whole sky full of them.”

“I’ll bet. No, it never even occurred to me to wonder whether I wanted the two of you along. You were supposed to be there, no question.” He shrugged. “But I’m not sure I want this to turn into a major group effort.”

“I’m not so sure you have any choice.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She released his hand for a moment, smoothed her forehead with her fingertips. “Thom and I weren’t sent here all the way from what Jody would call Fort Fucking Wayne in order to play four-handed group therapy. And you didn’t walk over the mountains for that, either. A whole lot of people are going to be joining us.”

“What am I, the Pied Piper?”

“Something like that. Not for rats and not for children. A sort of Pied Piper for pilgrims.”

“Pilgrims are supposed to be heading somewhere.”

“But do they necessarily know where?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. How many people, Sara?”

“I don’t know.”

“A dozen? A hundred? A thousand?”

“I don’t know. A lot of people, Guthrie. I don’t know how many.”

“An army. What are we going to do, hold hands across the country? You remember that circus, with all the press coverage and TV cameras, and when they were all done they raised something like a buck ninety-eight for the homeless of the world?”

“I remember.”

“Is that what this is about? Is it some kind of fucking telethon? Who’s gonna be waiting at the next stop sign, Jerry Lewis?”

“Guthrie?”

“What?”

“Guthrie, why not just take it as it comes?”

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

There was a motel in Brothers, but it was still early when they reached it and they didn’t feel like breaking for the night. They kept going.

Late in the afternoon Sara heard an engine running off to the left and asked what it was. She was walking with Thom, and he told her it was a man on a tractor.

She called to the others. They closed the gap, and she suggested they ask the man on the tractor if they could spend the night on his land.

Jody went over to talk to the farmer. He was a man about fifty, tall and stout, with big jug-handle ears and a bulldog jaw. He wore overalls and a striped blue and white cap that looked like mattress ticking, and he had a little trouble grasping what they wanted. Were they going to put up tents? Would they be building a fire? And where were they headed, anyway? The only city of any size was Burns, and that was eighty-some miles down the road.

Once he got it all straight, he had no objection to helping them out. They could sleep in his barn, he said, as long as he had their word that they’d go out of the barn and stand well away from it if they wanted to smoke.

“It ain’t enough to be careful,” he said. “People are always saying they’ll smoke in the barn but be careful about it, and next thing you know the barn’s burned down, because the only way to be careful about smoking in a barn is not to do it.”

Jody explained that none of their party smoked. The farmer was glad to hear it, but not entirely convinced.

The barn was a massive structure with a hayloft and half a dozen box stalls and milking stanchions for twenty cows. The farmer — his name was Oscar Powers — explained that he kept a small dairy herd, in addition to fattening beef cattle. He also had some acreage in sugar beets and alfalfa.

He showed them where they could sleep and told them to break up a couple bales of hay for their bedding. He was back fifteen minutes later with his arms full of blankets. “My wife said you’d need these,” he said. They thanked him, and ten minutes later he was back again. “My wife said you’re probably hungry, and we’ve got plenty. She said for you to come on up to the house soon as you’re settled, so’s you can wash up before we sit down.”