Nothing like that had ever happened to them, but it could. Nick was glad that the O'Tooles were coming along this year. Like Dad, Scott O'Toole was a big man. If any trouble came up, they'd be able to handle it.
With a feeling of relief, he checked the side mirror, signaled, and slipped into the right-hand lane. He sped up the overpass. Before it curved over the Santa Monica Freeway, he eased off the accelerator. He picked up speed again on the way down, signaled a left, and drifted across three deserted lanes of the San Diego Freeway.
His father leaned across the seat to check the speedometer. The needle hovered between 55 and 60 miles per hour. With a nod of approval, he settled back. "You get tired, let me know."
Benny leaned forward. "Hey, Karen?" he said to the back of her head. She turned in her seat and looked around at him. Her face, so near to his, made him feel funny — excited and warm and a little embarrassed. He stared at her, forgetting what he'd planned to say.
He'd never seen her from so close. Her eyes were clear blue like the water of the swimming pool. He noticed, for the first time, the light golden hair barely visible above her upper lip. His cousin, Tanya, with dark hair, had more of a mustache there. Hers looked a little gross, but this on Karen looked so soft and fuzzy that he wished he could touch it. Maybe there wasn't even enough to feel, not over her mouth anyway, but it looked a little heavier on her smooth, tanned cheeks.
"Do you know how to get down off an elephant?" he asked.
"No, how?"
"You don't. You get down off a duck."
Karen smiled and shook her head slightly.
Then she turned away. He could no longer see her face. Sitting back, he stared at her. The rim of an ear showed through her hair. He wished she would look around again, but first he would have to think of another joke.
He'd only seen Karen once before today. Usually, his father drove off to meet her. But last Saturday, she came over for barbecued ribs. She'd worn white shorts and a loose shirt of shiny red with green and white flowers, and she'd looked beautiful. When Dad introduced him, she shook his hand and said, "Very nice to meet you, Benny."
She had a pale scar curved like a horseshoe on her forearm. He'd wanted to ask her about it, but didn't have the guts.
That day was overcast, so nobody went into the pool and he didn't get to see her in a swimsuit. She sat across the table from him at dinner. It wasn't dark yet, but his father had lit candles. The light from the flames made her hair shine like gold. He thought she was very nice. Julie acted creepy, though. After dinner, Tanya took him and Julie to a movie. By the time they got home, Karen was gone. Dad said she would be coming along on the camping trip, and Julie went crazy. "What do we need her along for? I don't even like her! I don't want to go if she's going." Dad, looking unhappy, asked why she didn't like Karen. "Oh, never mind!" she snapped.
"I think she's nice," Benny had said.
"So do I," Dad told him.
Sometimes, Julie could be a real jerk.
"Anyone hungry?" Dad asked.
"Me!" Benny said.
Julie shrugged and kept on reading her book.
"Julie?"
"I don't care."
"I could use a bite," Karen said, looking toward Dad. Benny saw the side of her face for a moment before she turned forward again. He sighed. Gosh, she was beautiful.
"Well," Dad said. "We'll be at Gorman in a few minutes. We'll stop there and have some breakfast."
"Look out there," Flash said, keeping his voice calm but pressing a hand to the dashboard as a semi swung into their lane. It was moving up the steep grade toward Tejon Pass at half their speed. They were closing in fast.
Nick slipped over one lane to the left, and sped past the truck.
"Stupid fucking bastard," Flash muttered. He lowered his hand from the dash. Nick was looking nervous. "You all right?"
The boy nodded, and licked his lips.
"That… He had no business coming over." Flash took a few deep breaths, and slipped a White Owl from his shirt pocket. His fingers trembled as he tore open the cellophane wrapper. He plugged the cigar into his mouth and lit it, then cranked open his window to let the smoke stream out.
"I tell you, Nick, Vietnam was safer than these freeways. Goddamn truckers. Run you down as soon as look at you. Best thing to do is stay out of their way."
Nick glanced at him. The boy still looked shaky. "Too bad this isn't an F-8," Nick said. "We could blow them off the road."
"Thataboy. I tell you, we did our share of that, Scott and me. Nailed whole convoys along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Blasted the shit out of 'em."
"Arnold," Alice complained from the backseat. She'd heard that one. He glanced around. The twins were asleep, Rose slumped against the door with Heather leaning against her.
"I'll keep it down," he said in a quiet voice.
"Keep it clean."
He tapped off a length of ash, and took a long draw on his cigar. Smoke swirled around his face. Smoke filled the cockpit. "Blue Leader, this is Flash. Caught a hot one."
He shook his head sharply, trying to dislodge the memory as his heart began to thunder and his stomach twisted into an icy coil. Oh, Christ!
The station wagon nosed downward, picking up speed.
"Take it slow," he warned.
Nick looked at him and frowned. "Are you okay, Dad?"
"Sure. Fine." He wiped the sweat from his face. He started remembering again. "Well well well," he said quickly to block off the thoughts. "We're over the hump now. The old buggy made it over the Grapevine once again. Gonna be hot as blue blazes in the valley. Good thing we've got our air conditioning."
Chapter Three
I offered 'em down, Ettie."
She gazed at the naked bodies of the young man and woman stretched out side by side in front of the tent. The man was facedown, a terrible wound across the back of his neck. The woman, on her back, was bruised and torn. Ettie saw bite marks on her mouth and chin, on her shoulders and breasts. The left nipple was missing entirely.
"I offered him with a hatchet," Merle said, rubbing his hands on the legs of his jeans and trying to smile. "The gal, I plain choked her."
"Looks like you did more than that," Ettie muttered.
"She was pretty."
"Merle, you haven't got the sense of a toadstool."
Her son tugged the bill of his faded Dodgers cap down to hide his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.
"What're we gonna do with you?"
He shrugged. He toed a pinecone with his tennis shoe. "You do it," he argued.
"Only when He speaks to me."
"He spoke to me, Ettie. Honest He did. I never would've done it, but He asked me to."
"You sure you weren't just feeling horny?"
"No, ma'am. He spoke to me."
"I saw you yesterday spying on these two. I was afraid you might pull a stunt like this, but I trusted you, fool that I am. I should've known better." She glared at Merle. The bill of his cap rose for a moment as he looked at her. Then it dipped down again. "What did you promise me?"
"I know," he mumbled. "I said I'm sorry."
"What did you promise me?" she repeated.
"Not to do it again without asking."
"But you went ahead and did it anyway."
"Yes, ma'am."
"This is gonna make it hot for us, Merle."
In the shadow of the ball cap, she saw a thin smile. "You just can't take me anywhere."
"Wipe that smile off your face."
"It isn't that bad, Ettie. I already looked through their stuff. They didn't have any fire permit."