If he took her someplace Well, he ought Well Well, what he ought to do was go to the police.
Still, if No.
No, he had to get rid of her.
He kept looking at the girl.
Yes, he had to get rid of her.
He shrugged and went back into the basement. He went directly to the refrigerator he had seen and he opened the door and looked inside and knew immediately he would have to take the shelves out. The first two came out easily enough, but he had to struggle with the third one, and then the fourth came out just by lifting it. He put all four shelves alongside the furnace, and then he wrapped his arms around the refrigerator and tried to lift it. It was too heavy for him. He would never be able to carry it clear across the basement to the back door.
He wondered if he should forget about it.
Maybe he should take her to the police station after all.
He kept staring at the refrigerator.
Finally, he wrapped his arms around it again, but this time he lifted one end of the box and walked it forward and then lifted the opposite end, and kept doing that, shifting from one leg of the refrigerator to the other, walking it toward the door. At the door, he lifted it over the sill and then shoved it onto the concrete of the back yard and walked it to the tailgate of the truck. He wasn't at all tired. Walking the box out to the truck had been fairly simple, but he knew it would take all his strength to lift it up onto the tailgate and into the truck.
He looked at the girl.
He kept expecting her to move or something. Maybe open her eyes.
He bent at the knees and wrapped his arms around the refrigerator again and then braced himself and began lifting. The box slipped. He backed away from it in surprise. It made a dull heavy noise as it fell back to the concrete, upright. He gripped it again, and this time he mustered every ounce of power he possessed, straining, grunting, pulling it up onto the tailgate and allowing it to fall over backward into the truck. He pushed and shoved it over to the middle of the truck and then opened the door and lifted the girl and put her inside.
She wouldn't fit.
He put her in head first and then tried closing the door, but she wouldn't fit.
He tried turning her on her side and bending her legs behind her, but that didn't work either. He was beginning to get very nervous because he was afraid someone would turn on a light or open a window or look down into the yard and see him struggling there trying to get the girl into the refrigerator.
He broke both her legs.
He closed the door.
He got into the truck and began driving.
The city was an empty wilderness, he did not know where to go, he did not know where he could leave her. He did not want anyone to find the refrigerator because then they would find the girl and know who she was and possibly they would trace the refrigerator back to Mrs. Dougherty's rooming house and begin to ask questions. He found the river almost be accident. He knew the city was surrounded by water, but it didn't occur to him that he could just drive up to the river's edge and drop the refrigerator in. He had come across a small bridge and looked down and seen lights reflecting in water, and then realized he was looking down into a river and had taken the first left turn off the bridge and driven down to a deserted dock where a railroad car loomed alone and empty on a silent track. He backed the truck to the water's edge. He wondered how deep the water was. He went to the edge of the dock and got down on his hands and knees and looked over to see if there were any markings on the dock, but there weren't. He didn't want to go dropping the refrigerator into shallow water. They'd find it right off, and that wouldn't be too good.
He got into the truck again and drove off.
Now that he knew he wanted to drop the refrigerator in the river, he began actively looking for a place that would be deep enough. He didn't know how he would recognize a deep spot unless he just happened to come across a dock or bridge that was marked. But the chances of finding such a placed seemed A bridge.
Actually, if he Well, just drive onto it.
The middle of it.
The rail.
He could simply He began looking for a bridge. He'd have to be very careful, he'd have to pretend something was wrong, yes, that was it, wait for a break, just bide his time, that refrigerator was very heavy. Yes.
Yes.
He drove crosstown, thinking a high bridge would be best, the refrigerator would drop a very long distance and then sink into the mud on the bottom of the river. Yes, a high bridge would be best. He headed automatically toward the highest and longest bridge he knew, the one connecting the city with the adjoining state, and then he started across it. The bridge seemed to sway somewhat in the strong wind. He wondered if the refrigerator would drop straight and true to the river, or if the wind would affect its fall.
He stopped the truck.
He went immediately to the front and lifted the hood.
He stood in front of the truck as though he were looking into the engine, but he was really watching the far end of the bridge and the approaching headlights. As soon as there was a break in the traffic, he would go to the back and lift the refrigerator down, and carry it behind the side of the truck so that he would be shielded from any other passing cars. He kept watching the cars in the distance. The headlights rushed past.
All at once, there was nothing.
Nothing was coming.
I hope this works, he thought.
He went quickly to the back of the truck, thinking how heavy the refrigerator was going to be and then surprised to find that it was amazingly light, he could lift it with hardly any effort at all. He felt almost a little giddy as he lifted the refrigerator, God it was light, and carried it around the side of the truck and then hoisted it up onto the guard rail. He looked down once quickly, to make sure no boats were passing under the bridge, and then he let the refrigerator drop. He watched it as it went down, leaving his hands large and white and getting smaller and smaller and hitting the water with an enormous splash that sent up a large white geyser of water. A car rushed past in the opposite direction. The water below was settling, a wide circle of white spreading, there were headlights at the far end of the bridge now. He went quickly to the front of the truck and pulled down the hood. He came around the side again and took one last look at the water below.
You could hardly tell anything had been dropped into the river.
He started the truck and drove across the bridge and into the next state. He drove about a mile past the toll booths, and then made a U-turn and headed back for the city. He dropped the truck off at the garage and walked to Mrs. Dougherty's. There was no one outside the building or in the hallway. Everyone was asleep. He went up to his room and got into bed.
He fell asleep almost instantly.
Amelia opened the door.
She had washed her face, and washed the lipstick from her mouth and now she entered the room and closed the door behind her, and carefully and slowly locked it. She put her bag on the dresser, and then turned to face him, leaning against the door with her hands behind her back.
"Hi," she said.
He looked up at her. "Hello."
"Did you miss me?"
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"I missed you."
"You've got some fancy bathroom down the hall there," she said. She did not move from the door. She kept staring at him, a faint strange smile on her face. "Blue toilet paper, very fancy."