Honeymoon for Three Page 21

  Once the camper reached the road, it would roll of its own accord. One of them could jump into it and put it in gear. Then it would start easily. If she were the one to do that, she could just keep going and leave Alfred behind. She would be free. She was very tempted to try to talk him into it.

  On the other hand, the person who jumped into the camper had a dangerous job. What if she didn’t make it and fell under the wheels? What if she didn’t gain control of the steering wheel soon enough and it hit a tree or went into the ditch that ran along one side of the road? It could easily roll over.

  No, she would rather give Alfred that job. If he got hurt, she could make her escape. It sounded cold-blooded, but it was true. She had to remember that he had tried to kill her and Gary. He was the enemy. If the camper were wrecked, they would be no worse off than they were now.

  An additional idea occurred to her. She explained to Alfred what had to be done. Then she said, “Before we do it, I need to go to the bathroom again.”

  “You just went a little while ago.”

  “I know, but it’s urgent. I need to get something to use for toilet paper.”

  Not waiting for his acquiescence, Penny went into the camper and opened the storage cabinet. She extracted a pad of ruled paper she had seen there earlier, and the duct tape. She shoved the roll of tape underneath her sweater. The sweater’s bulk hid the bulge. She needed a pencil. She went forward and opened the glove compartment, keeping an eye on Alfred through the front windows. He was contemplating the logistics of what they were going to do and not looking at her.

  She found a pencil, placed it in her pocket, and jumped out of the camper through the doorway with the sliding door. She headed toward the trees, flashing the pad at Alfred. That was her toilet paper. She went behind one of the big redwood trees. She was thankful for its bulk. He was watching and would see if she tried to escape, but he couldn’t see what she was doing.

  She took the pencil out of her pocket and printed the words “Penny” and “Alfred” on the top sheet of paper of the pad in block letters. She held the pad in her hand as she wrote, and the letters came out very light. They wouldn’t be legible to somebody driving behind the camper. She had to find a way to darken them.

  She knelt on the ground and placed the pad on one of her thighs. Then she went over the letters many times, pressing the pencil against the pad, trying to make them as dark as possible. Before she was satisfied with the result, the lead of the pencil broke. She swore to herself. She couldn’t go back and get another pencil. This would have to do. Gary had sharp eyes. Hopefully, he would be able to read her sign if he saw it.

  Penny pictured Gary driving the Beetle, coming up behind the camper, and seeing her sign. This was how it had to work. Unless Gary decided she was more trouble than she was worth and abandoned her. Or maybe he thought she had run away with Alfred. That thought nauseated her. No, he would never believe that. He had to be looking for her. He wouldn’t give up. It wasn’t like him. She felt sorry for him, alone and not knowing where she was. He must be going through emotional hell.

  Alfred called her name. In a minute he would come looking for her. She had to do one more thing. She pulled the duct tape out from beneath her sweater and tried to tear off a piece. She found she could tear it easily with her fingers. Good. She threw the pencil away and hid the tape under her sweater again. Then she folded the sheet of paper in quarters and placed it in her pants pocket. She walked back to the camper.

  She checked to make sure Alfred had the camper in neutral with the parking brake off. She told him to turn on the ignition and leave the left, front door open. His station was by that door. If necessary, he could steer the camper with one hand while pushing with the other hand. He positioned himself and gave a push against the frame at a point beside the door hinges, grunting as he did so. It didn’t move.

  “Hurry up and push.” His voice had a growl in it.

  He was irritated that she was the brains of this undertaking. Penny took a position in back of the camper and pushed when Alfred did. It still didn’t move.

  “Push harder.”

  She almost said something obscene. What did he want from her? He outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. He had to provide the main effort. However, at his command, she pushed as hard as she could. Slowly, the camper moved forward a few inches. Then it stopped.

  Penny used up her strength and couldn’t maintain the effort. She and Alfred must have let up at the same time, because the camper rolled back to where it had been and even a little farther. Then it rolled forward to the starting point and stopped.

  “We’ll rock it,” Alfred said. “When it rocks forward, push with all your might.”

  They pushed the camper forward and when it stalled they let it go back. When it rocked forward toward the original position, they pushed together “with all their might.” It almost stalled again at the point of furthest progress, but an extra effort on both their parts got it into new territory.

  It continued to move forward slowly, begrudging the inches it gave up. The effort was exhausting. They had to stop several times to catch their collective breath, but each time they were able to get it moving again. Eventually, they moved it close to the road. One more push and it should start to roll downhill.

  Penny looked around the camper at Alfred. “Do you know what to do?”

  “I think so.”

  Alfred looked inside the camper, presumably rehearsing in his mind the sequence he had to go through. Penny had an urge to tell him to be careful, but she suppressed it. It was in her best interests that he not be careful, and she found herself wishing for that eventuality. She was becoming a terrible person. She reminded herself that she couldn’t get any worse than she was already.

  They gave a final shove, and the camper started rolling, slowly, by itself. It would quickly pick up speed on the slope. Penny stepped over to the side of it to see if Alfred had control of the situation. He didn’t look very coordinated.

  He was walking beside the camper with one hand on the steering wheel. He swung his right leg inside but in an awkward fashion, and he didn’t seem to be able to get his left leg in. The camper was picking up speed. His left leg bounced along the ground. It looked as if he were trying to run on one leg.

  He gave a big yank on the steering wheel and jerked his left leg inside, but the camper veered toward the ditch at the edge of the road. Then it swerved toward the trees on the other side as he turned the wheel in that direction. Then it straightened out. Alfred should stop it now and gain full control before he tried to start the engine. He could easily get it rolling again.

  Instead, he was apparently trying to start it immediately. Penny heard the sound of the engine coughing at the same time the camper bucked violently. He had put it in first gear, and it was going too fast for first gear. Penny had forgotten to tell him to use second gear. Or perhaps she hadn’t forgotten.

  The camper swerved again, and this time the right front hit a tree before Alfred could control it. The tree stopped it with a jolt. Penny found her heart racing; she was glad she wasn’t inside.

  She ran forward to the open front door to see if Alfred was okay. His forehead was bleeding, but somehow the engine was still running. He had instinctively depressed the clutch. She pulled on the hand brake and reached across his body to shift the camper into neutral. Now the engine would keep running even if he couldn’t hold the clutch down.

  “Are you all right?”

  He looked at her for a moment without comprehension. Then he said, “Yeah, I’m all right.”

  He didn’t sound all right. He sounded groggy.

  “Did you hit your head on the windshield?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Take it easy for a minute.”

  Penny walked around the front of the camper to survey the damage. The spare tire, which was fastened to the front, had hit the tree. The tired looked flat, but there was little damage to the camper, itself. It was probably drivable. Penny wasn�
�t sure this was a good outcome, but she remembered what she wanted to do.

  She went back to Alfred’s door and said, “I think it’s okay. Rest for another minute. I’ll check the back.”

  She ran around to the back, making sure that Alfred stayed in his seat. She removed the paper with their names printed on it from her pocket and unfolded it. Then she took out the duct tape from underneath her sweater. She quickly tore off four pieces of tape and secured the four corners of the sheet to the back of the camper. She hoped that Gary or the police would see it and be able to read it.

  She went back to Alfred’s door. “Let me look at your forehead.”

  “My head’s all right.”

  He sounded angry.

  “Let me at least wash it off.”

  “Leave it alone.”

  Did he blame her for his injury? Alfred wiped his forehead, smearing the blood on his hand. He pulled his handkerchief, already dark with Penny’s clotted blood, out of his pocket and wiped his hand with it. That wasn’t sanitary.

  “Let me drive. You need to rest for awhile.”

  Driving would give her more control. She wasn’t sure Alfred was competent to drive right now. Especially downhill on a winding, potholed dirt road with trees, cliffs, and ditches.

  “I’m driving.”

  Alfred shifted the camper into reverse to back away from the tree. Penny got out of the way. He gunned the engine and released the hand brake. The wheels spun, sending a spray of loose dirt into the bottom of the camper. It inched away from the tree. The tires found traction and the camper surged backward. Penny thought it would go into the ditch on the other side of the road. Alfred jammed on the brakes and managed to stop it just in time.

  He sat for a few seconds, breathing heavily. He wiped some more blood from his forehead. Then he seemed to remember Penny. He looked at her and said, “Get in.”

  Penny didn’t want to get in. She didn’t want to die in a car accident any more than she wanted to die by a knife or a gun. If she ran into the woods right now, was Alfred in good enough shape to chase her? She was afraid he was. She really didn’t have any choice in the matter.

  She went to the right side of the camper. She couldn’t open the passenger door because the door lock was still taped down. The damage from the tree had bent the frame slightly. It might not be possible to open it even if the tape were removed. She tried the sliding door, but that was also locked. She went back to the driver’s side and told Alfred.

  “Climb over me.”

  Why should she have to climb over him? “Get up and unlock the sliding door. Or get out and let me get in this door.”

  He again told her to climb over him. He wasn’t about to move from his seat. Was he that badly hurt, or did he think that she would drive off, either with him or without him? She had been considering doing just that. Could he read her mind?

  Exasperated, Penny climbed over him. It wasn’t easy. She considered accidentally elbowing his wound but decided that would only make him angrier. Instead, she brushed her breasts across his face to see how he would react. He didn’t react at all. With grim satisfaction she planted herself in her seat.

  She hoped he wouldn’t kill them both. She said, “I suggest you use first or second gear to let the engine help hold the speed down.”

  Alfred started off slowly, but soon he was going faster and had to brake almost continuously. Penny saw that he was in third gear. She told him to downshift into second. He ignored her. She held on for dear life as they bounced down the hill, on the razor’s edge of control. This was a lot scarier than the Matterhorn Bobsleds at Disneyland. She hoped the brakes wouldn’t fail.

  By the time they reached a level section close to Route 1, Penny was mentally promising sacrifices to the gods in exchange for her life. Alfred stopped the camper, and she had a chance to compose herself. He shut off the engine and took the key. The battery had regenerated enough to start the camper now. His forehead was still bleeding a little, giving him the look of an injured combatant, but he seemed to be in possession of his faculties.

  He got up and looked in the storage cabinet. What was he doing?

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Duct tape.”

  The roll of duct tape was under her sweater. What did he want it for? Was he going to tape her legs? Should she play dumb? She didn’t want her legs taped. He looked at her, accusingly. If he searched her, he would want to know why she had the tape. And if he got suspicious and went outside the camper, he might find the sign.

  She figured it was better to have her legs taped than to have him find the sign. When he looked in the storage cabinet again, she quickly pulled the roll of tape out from under her sweater and placed it on the floor just behind her seat.

  She let Alfred search for a few more seconds. Then she got up, saying, “I’ll help you look.”

  She scanned the inside of the camper with her eyes, as if she were looking for the tape. Then she picked the roll of tape up from the floor. “Here it is. It must have fallen to the floor and rolled behind the seat.”

  Alfred looked dubious, but he took the tape from her.

  “Get on the bed.”

  “What? I’m the navigator.” She hadn’t figured on this. Hadn’t she won his trust?

  “We have to cross the Golden Gate Bridge and pay a toll. I’ll release you after we go through San Francisco.”

  “After all I’ve done for you? Do you remember last night…?”

  “I’m sorry. I have to do it.”

  He sounded contrite. She was prepared to argue, to go into detail about what they had done last night, talk until he gave in. But the first thing he taped was her mouth. He obviously didn’t want to hear about his shortcomings in bed. And this wasn’t the time to let him know that she could talk with her mouth taped.

  Penny was raging. If she had known he would make her lie on the bed, she wouldn’t have produced the roll of tape. She lay on her back and kept her legs ramrod straight. She placed her hands together in front of her, hoping he would tape them in front rather than behind her. Then he couldn’t tape her hands to her legs.

  It worked. He didn’t try to turn her over. He taped her hands in front. He covered her with a blanket, including her head. He did feel sorry about what he was doing to her. She had won a small victory.

  CHAPTER 31

  It was difficult for Gary to keep his concentration. After several hours, he was sure he had missed a car or two. He just hoped he hadn’t missed Penny. He had to go to the bathroom, but he was afraid if he deserted his post for even five minutes, it would be the wrong five minutes.

  He had climbed over the guardrail and now leaned against a telephone pole on the cliff side of it, mainly because he didn’t trust the drivers of the cars coming around the curve. They cut it too close. A blue house beside him sat right on the edge of the cliff. It had a square turret with large windows that overlooked the bay. He saw a man look at him from a window, but nobody approached him on foot. The road was too narrow for walking here.

  Saturday morning traffic was moderately heavy. Families were heading for the coast to enjoy a late summer camping weekend. Typical of the weekend crowd was the Volkswagen camper that had just come into view. Gary glanced at the driver, just to keep in practice. He immediately became alert. The driver looked familiar—was it Alfred? If so, there was something different about him. Something about his forehead. Nobody was sitting beside him.

  Gary spun his head around as the camper went by, trying to read the license plate. There was a sign taped to the back, so he switched his attention to that. He had time to read the word “Penny.” The word below it might be “Alfred.” Penny and Alfred. It was a signal from Penny. She was inside the camper.

  Gary ran for his car, his heart beating fast. He couldn’t lose the camper. He came up to the Beetle, breathless, fumbled with the door lock, jumped in, started it, and raced after Alfred. By now the camper was out of sight and several cars were between them. He fumed as
he crawled along in the traffic, until he got out of the village of Bodega Bay and was able to speed up.

  He had to pass the cars ahead of him, and it was difficult to pass on the narrow and winding road, which was now heading inland, away from the coast. He drove more aggressively than he had ever driven. He passed cars on blind curves. He was doing this for perhaps the third time when a logging truck came around the corner in his lane, heading straight toward him.

  The truck filled his field of vision. Gary’s first thought was that the truck wasn’t supposed to be there. He instinctively braked hard, even as he had this thought. He started skidding, but he was able to duck behind the car he had been passing. He released the brake and struggled to keep his car under control. He used the experience gained from driving on icy streets in Western New York while growing up. It was touch-and-go, but he felt the tires grab just as he was afraid he would go off the road.

  He was shaking with fear and relief, but he didn’t dare stop while he calmed down. He had the camper in sight now, and he had to stay where he could see it. He realized that his instincts had saved him, not the thinking part of his brain. Thank God or Darwin or whoever for instinct.

  He became much more cautious, but after a few minutes, he had a chance to pass the car ahead of him safely. Now he was directly behind the camper. He pulled up close to it and read the sign again. Yes, it definitely said “Penny” and “Alfred.”

  He knew that Alfred had probably spotted him, but he wasn’t going to back off and take a chance on losing the camper. He would stick to it like duct tape.

  ***

  Somebody was tailgating the camper. Alfred didn’t like tailgaters. He had the rearview mirror trained on Penny, so he checked his side mirrors. It was a Volkswagen—a green Volkswagen. Shit. It was Gary. He caught a glimpse of Gary’s intent face through the windshield of the VW.

  Alfred had spotted the VW parked on the side of the road in Bodega Bay, and had felt momentary alarm, but there had been nobody inside it. He had become elated, thinking he had gotten safely past Gary. Now he remembered the guy he had seen, loitering on the side of the road, just before he spotted the car. That must have been Gary, watching for him. He had been wearing a baseball cap, and Alfred hadn’t recognized him.