The Ink-Stained Trail - Chapter 3

The sun finally sauntered its way below the horizon. I waited a while longer, for the last of the daylight to scram before climbing into my old jalopy. It started with a cough and a rattle, like me after a long discussion with a bottle of Scotch. We chugged down to Main Street and hung a left, heading towards the new homes to the southwest.

In about a minute, we were out of town and into the fields. Feels damn unnatural at first glance, all this open space. Then you notice how it's all fenced off with barbed wire. They say the wire keeps livestock in, but it tries pretty hard to keep people out. Maybe not so different from back on the coast, where the blocks are split up by the families, and the lines are maintained with guns and knives.

The air was thick that night. I had the window down, but it didn't help much. My hand felt like I'd wrapped it in a wet towel. I tried to ignore the unpleasant, clammy feeling and concentrate on finding the right road. All these gravel roads look alike, but I got where I was going eventually.

I stopped on a rise, pulled off to the side and got out. From here you see could see miles in any direction, so I had a good view of these new houses. A half-dozen or so. Nice, if you like two-story wood frames with a big porch. The boys in the diner weren't kidding about isolation. A fella could get his daily exercise just walking next door for a cup of arsenic. The Polo Grounds could fit in some of these yards. Seemed like a real waste of space to me. Most of the houses were dark, but there was one place with lights on.  Two of them, one in front of each of the windows overlooking the porch. I slid back into my car, released the brake, and coasted downhill, coming to a stop at the edge of their driveway.

I approached the house through the grass, not wanting to announce my presence with the crunch of gravel.  I could have approached them directly, but I wasn't sure what I was looking for yet, and wasn't sure what to say. I moved closer, eyes open for a dog. Folks out here love dogs, but not this family. Lucky me. I peered in through a window. Not much to it. A happy couple and their two kids eating dinner. Typical domestic bliss at first glance, except nobody was talking. The adults kept glancing at a clock up on the wall. It could be they wanted to shuttle the kids off to bed so they could fool around, but it was a different kind of nervous energy.

I circled the house, trying to look into other rooms, but each one was either dark, or the curtains were drawn. There was a basement around back, but the door was locked from the inside. Completing the circuit, I paused by the porch and looked up at the sky, only half-noticing all the stars. This hadn't revealed anything so far, and I wasn't sure of my next step. Knock on the door? They were nervous, maybe I could bluff answers out of 'em. It had worked in the past, though I usually had a better idea what I was after. Then I heard engines, and caught movement inside the house out of the corner of my eye. The family rose, and the kids were sent upstairs. After they were gone, the lady vanished into the back of the house, then returned a moment later.

It might be wise to move my car. I ran back down the driveway, the sound of the engines getting closer. As quiet as it was out here, they could still be a way off. I could see headlights on the ridge, or was that my imagination?, so I tried to speed up, even as it felt like the air gelled around me. I lurched into my car, turned the key. Nothing. I tried again. Nothing. Peachy. By now they were cresting the ridge. I decided to roll with it the best I could. I stepped back out and into the middle of the road, waving my jacket. The procession of cars, six in total, came to a stop. A man emerged from the passenger side of the lead car. As he stepped in front of the headlights, I saw it was the fella with the bad dye job from this afternoon. I put on my best cheerful idiot face.

"Could you give me a hand? She sputtered out on me at the top of the hill, and this was as far as she'd coast. I think with a push I could get her movin' again.'

Dye Job eyed me like a bug he debating whether or not to step on, a sour look on his face. " There was no one in the house to ask?" I put on a look of confused surprise, like it never occurred to me. His frown deepened.

A woman's voice drifted out from the back of the lead car. "Sean, the man asked for help. Why don't you and Michael give him that push?" There was warmth to the voice, a familiarity that made the order sound more like a request you'd be happy to grant. The firm line under the warmth, though, made it clear it was an order.

"Sean's" frown deepened even further for a moment. If it got any worse, his face might fall off. Still, he barked out, "Michael!" and another guy emerged from the 2nd car. Bit younger than Sean, about the same height, about half as wide in the shoulders. Brown hair looked genuine.

They stepped behind my car and look at me expectantly. I got in, they started her rolling, and I whispered, "Now'd be a good time to start, honey."

Give her credit, when you ask nicely, my car's real responsive. The engine caught, and we sputtered away. I remembered to wave to them like a dope as I left. If I had doubts about whether I fooled them, it didn't take long to receive an answer. The headlights of one of the cars, but only one, appeared in my mirrors. I drove around a bit, to see if I could shake him without being too obvious. Problem is, I don't know the roads around here well enough to drive like a complete idiot without risking getting stuck. I gave up eventually and went back to the boarding house, though I tried my best to stretch and breathe deep when I got out, like someone out for a nighttime drive. The headlights stopped a block down before making a right and heading east.

I stayed up the next several hours, watching the street through my window. Nothing went past but a couple of dogs that might have been coyotes.