It was getting dark, but Sarah was still listening to the nail gun and air compressor outside as Kyle worked on the roof for the truck shed. She was starting to wonder what he was going to do with himself after all that was finished. Perhaps as soon as John was born they would begin more preparation for Judgement Day and the normal life they now lived would come to an end. She was filled with both anticipation and foreboding, but she had absolutely no motivation for anything except waiting, and starting any project more ambitious than making the bed seemed pointless.
At least there had been good news from California. She had just gotten off the phone with the attorney Jeff Yates and not only had her mom’s house and cabin sold, but Sarah’s scooter as well. That was a hell of a thing. The scooter had actually sold for more than she had paid for it, because it had gotten around that it was the biggest souvenir remaining from the infamous slaughter of all those police officers and nightclub patrons. The publicity Jeff described made her uneasy, but he assured her all was well and he would Fax the paperwork to the ranch for her signature.
Andy got back into town from Las Cruces late on a Tuesday night. He had three auto parts deliveries to make the next day and decided to go back to the Waffle House for breakfast. Maybe that pretty waitress would be there again. Life was decent at the moment. He made enough money from his job at the car dealership plus the parts delivery thing from Louetta Motors, a car repair place, for an apartment with working appliances and enough left over to keep him self entertained. Also, now that it was January, the weather was no longer so relentlessly hot.
The next day, making his third delivery, Andy walked around the corner as he had been directed by one of the ranch employees, and saw the open doorway. The girl at the desk was busy filling out a work order form so at first all he could see was the top of her head. He was holding the paperwork out to her when she looked up, “Can I help—?” Startled at the look on his face, she did not complete the question. The recognition was so unexpected he stood frozen with his mouth open, preparing to speak. She said, “Yes?” It was she, the girl at the gas station in the white Civic. He saw her register something, perhaps merely curiosity, but it was obvious she had no idea who he was. Finally he managed a semblance of conversation.
“I, uh, please sign the yellow copies. The pink ones are yours.” His hand was shaking as he took the papers from her. Only shock prevented him from action since every instinct urged him to leap over the desk and choke her, to scream in her face, “where is my brother, you bitch?” Somehow he had walked back down the hall, out on the front porch past the two ranch hands that had unloaded the delivery, and across the drive. He was out on the two lane road back into town, his brain seething with rage and confusion before he had his first coherent thought. She knows who killed Ron. She knows. She has to know. He was too jumped up to think clearly and stopped at a county line liquor store for some Jack Daniels. At a remote crossroads he peeled off the seal and started in. At first he felt better as the alcohol spread through his system and headed back to the motel room, but by the time he got there he had had enough where his thoughts were now confused again. Frustrated, he smoked some more meth to clear his head and wondered what he was going to do about this girl.
For the next month Andy was obsessed with finding out all he could about Sarah and her life. Fortunately, she seemed to have a very limited routine, probably because of her advanced pregnancy and the shear lack of activities available in this typical little town. Most every day she went to the ranch with her husband/boyfriend. Andy was not sure which Kyle was since neither of them seemed to wear a ring; and they usually went straight home afterward. Occasionally, they did something different like grocery shop in the middle of the week or they would go to the bank or something like that. Often, they ate supper at the Waffle House and Lanie, the pretty waitress was full of information about them. Lanie volunteered that Kyle and Sarah were originally from Los Angeles and had arrived in June.
Sarah put all the folders back in the cabinet and rolled the chair back under the desk. She found Kyle waiting on the front porch, talking to Menardo. “Sure, man, just bring it back by next week, that’s when the shingles for the west barn’ll be in” Menardo was saying.
“Hi,” Kyle said, standing. He had a way of placing one hand on her now large belly and the other at the small of her back whenever he kissed her hello or good bye. Menardo noticed he never just bussed her perfunctorily.
“Man, get a room you guys, you just saw her at lunch.”
Sarah smiled around Kyle’s shoulder, “See you tomorrow Menardo.”
Sarah was trying to decide on SpaghettiOs or Beefaroni and feeling guilty about both. The first time Kyle had seen them in the shopping cart he had made a sound like “yaugh” and just stared. When she asked about it he had explained, “Sarah, I remember that stuff from the future. It’ll still be here in forty years,” which had been a very unappetizing thought, but she could not help it.
“I’m pregnant, Kyle. Tomorrow I may want grape jelly and salmon. Try to understand.” He had been grimly accepting. At this moment, the Beefaroni won out and Sarah headed to the back cooler. As she was reaching for a gallon of milk a hand clamped over her wrist and yanked her back through the large plastic strips across the doorway into the refrigerated storage area in the back of the store. The man seemed familiar, but what shocked her was the man’s ring. She saw it clearly as he pushed open the door to the alley. She remembered it from the carjacker with the black t-shirt. It had been on the hand that began to yank Gun Guy off of her in the back of the Civic. Her breath caught for a second before she began to fight and scream for Kyle. In that second, the ring hand clamped over her mouth.
“Huh-uh. No. This conversation is between you and me.” Her eyes went wide. She now realized this was the man from the ranch office. “I think you know what happened to my brother. In fact, I think you killed my brother.” Sarah could only stare, horrified at this man’s words. Fear of exposure, of her life unraveling flooded through her.
“What, exactly, is going on here?” Andy froze as Kyle’s hand closed over his wrist, the pressure causing his fingers to spring open releasing Sarah and the leverage spinning him around. Without waiting for an answer, Kyle slammed Andy against the brick wall of the alley. Hard. Sarah heard him grunt and his teeth clack together as the breath was flattened out of his lungs. He remained pinned solidly as Kyle’s other hand shifted to his throat. The man’s leather coat scraped against the rough surface as he tried to move and Sarah flashed back to her last day as a waitress and a customer’s leather coat she had ruined with a spilled drink. We are murder on leather, she thought crazily.
“I don’t know you.” Andy was trying to sound assertive. “This is between her and me.” Both of his hands were now defensively grasping Kyle’s wrist, mindlessly trying to pry it loose.
“This is my wife.” Sarah saw Andy’s eyes narrow. “Do not touch her, do not talk to her.” Kyle was speaking in slow, clipped tones. “Do not go near her. Do you understand?” When Andy did not respond instantly, “Do you understand??”
Yes, thought Sarah, remembering that first night when Kyle had screamed the same question at her in the gray LTD. Yes. That was the only answer possible at the moment, but Andy, trying to salvage some dignity said, “Fuck you, man! Let me go!” She saw Kyle’s fingers tighten.
“Kyle,” she said quietly, placing her hand deliberately on Kyle’s arm, feeling the muscles contract. “I’m O.K. Let’s go.” His eyes flicked sideways at her. He shoved Andy to the ground in a heap. Only then did she realize several people had stopped to watch. Some were employees from the store. She recognized Derek and Rob snickering a few steps away. Those two had their pictures next to “slacker” in the dictionary. Others were simply people who had been walking by the alley. Kyle was already holding her hand, but she grasped his upper arm possessively and pulled him close as they walked away. “That guy was with the carjackers, “she said. “He’s wearing the same ring as the guy I shot outside the car.” He looked grim, but said nothing and Sarah was left to wonder what he was thinking.
In bed that night, she shifted and twisted and fretted trying to get comfortable. “Aaugh!” she complained disgustedly. “How am I supposed to sleep with this baby? It’s impossible!” Kyle smiled into the back of her hair, curling around her as she settled on her side. His hand absently touched the scar on her thigh. “Uff, now John’s kicking me.” Kyle moved his hand over her belly, feeling the lumps and mounds sliding and poking. He knew better than to comment, but he was silently amused.
Hours later, she cried out in her sleep and he rolled to her, one hand smoothing her hair out of her face, the other reaching to clasp her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. When she jerked awake he embraced her more closely. He felt her relax as he held her. “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, you have no idea what it’s like to wake up from a nightmare and have you here.”
“What were you dreaming about?”
“The carjackers. I’m never going to get over that. It won’t go away. I keep dreaming I’m going to jail for life for murder. Then I dream they don’t die and they’re all chasing me and telling everyone about John and they take John away from me—“ her voice caught, “and I dream, I dream you’re dead. I can’t stand it!”
“It’s just a dream.”
“I can’t get past the feeling that killing those two carjackers was a mistake, that it somehow changed the future. And that guy today. What if he shows up again? He knows I killed his brother or whoever. What if he calls the police?”
“He won’t. What’s he going to say? He has to be the third person. Have you ever thought how those two men got to the gas station in the first place? He had to have been there. He might as well have been one of the ones that hurt you.” Sarah turned over to face him.
“I can’t just run away from this any more.”
“I don’t see that there’s anything to run away from. You have to protect yourself and now John, too.”
“I can’t just go around killing people—“
“I didn’t say that. I said protect your self.” Sarah could see his eyes indistinctly in the darkness. “What do you think would have happened if you hadn’t killed them?” It was a question she had not considered. She tried to analyze the situation, but her brain was tired, her body was tired and she could not think clearly. Gun Guy would have raped her for sure. One or the other would have killed her and left her pretty much where she had left them, in the woods. That was the whole problem of carjacking—it was by definition a robbery, not a theft and that meant there was the problem of a victim. Ideally, the victim was left in the middle of the road or a parking lot somewhere sans car, but if he went along for the ride, his chances for survival were slim.
Sarah sighed. “I just don’t want John to grow up with a warped value on human life.”
“He doesn’t, I mean, he won’t. He’ll be a very wise man, thanks mostly to you.” Kyle kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep.” She turned back to her other side and he went back to running his fingers over her hair, along her shoulder, over a breast which now more than filled his hand. Eventually, feeling her breathe more deeply and assured she was sleeping, he drifted off as well.
---------------------------------
“Happy birthday. It’s yours to drive for a week.” Sarah had to lift Kyle’s hand to drop the keys into it. The expression on his face told her she had made the right choice renting the red Corvette. He was standing motionless, a starving man surveying a feast. She turned to him, putting her lips against his ear. “Come on,” she said in a seductive tone. “Let’s go for a ride.” She gently bit his earlobe.
“Yeah,” he said and helped her into the passenger seat. Less than five minutes later they had cleared the edge of town and were blasting down the highway toward the mountains.
Mano and Frank were in the back of the barn counting the new puppies, seven in all. No one was sure who Dixie had made the puppies with, but they all seemed healthy and the German shepherd bitch certainly looked pleased with herself curled up in the back of the stall. “Hey,” said Frank. “Let’s give one to Kyle. He really loves dogs.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen anyone talk to the animals like that guy can.”
Kyle was dead in Andy’s book. He just had to figure out how to do it. Nobody could make a fool of him like that without paying for it. He could tell people on the street were looking at him with no respect, having seen him shoved to the ground like some ninety-eight pound weakling getting sand kicked in his face.
Two hours into the drive, Sarah put her hand on Kyle’s right arm. “Pull into the next lookout.”
“All right,” he said. The turnout could hold three or four cars, but on this February day, there were no tourists and no traffic just an incredible view of the mountains and trees and no sound save a few birds and the ticking of the cooling engine. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Sarah looked at him a moment. They only had a week or so before John’s arrival and Sarah was now uncomfortably huge, but she managed to lean over the gear shift.
“Welcome to the open road,” she said as she unzipped his fly.
After pacing for hours and trying every possible position they had practiced, Sarah was tired and hurting more and more with each contraction. At least she was not stuck in a hospital. Kyle was wearing the sweats Marta had suggested, because they would feel soft while Sarah was leaning on him. Finally her water broke and Marta had them step onto the sheets spread on the floor next to the wall. With Kyle behind her, Sarah stood on his feet and he eased down into a crouch. Sarah settled her weight on to his thighs, so that his body supported hers. This position felt reassuring and comfortable. Cradled against his strong body like this with his face beside hers, she could lean her head back on his shoulder when she rested and he was able to see everything during the contractions. “I like this,” she said and Kyle squeezed her hand. Her body tensed and he spread his fingers over her belly. She groaned, breathing hard. He could feel the muscles tighten and bunch under his hands and her whole body straining and trembling with effort. He was amazed and afraid for her. There seemed to be so much pain. He had seen several births up close, but found it was different now that it was his wife and his son. As her fingers dug into his wrists and then relaxed, he reached for the cloth and gently wiped her face.
Marta was kneeling in front of them and continually encouraged Sarah and instructed Kyle in a quiet voice. Her fingers probed against Sarah’s abdomen. “Baby’s almost here,” she said. Sarah felt a stinging sensation as well as pressure this time and the baby’s head was visible. “Push again.” Sarah could only take a few rapid breaths before the next contraction. This time she cried out with exertion and pain and Kyle could see the head in Marta’s hands. First one shoulder eased out and the other and the baby was born. Sarah looked down at him while Marta gently blew on the baby’s face. It cried a bit and she began to clean the little face and wash the baby’s body, examining it carefully. Then she laid him on Sarah’s tummy.
“Hello, John,” Sarah said. Kyle tightened his arms around her and touched the baby’s cheek. His fingers looked huge next to the tiny face.
Marta tied off the cord and cut it. In only a few minutes the afterbirth was delivered and Marta had Kyle help Sarah to the bed and into dry clothing. She placed John in Kyle’s arms while she pulled up the sheets and arranged pillows. Sarah watched Kyle’s face as he looked down at his son, kissed the small forehead, feeling John grasp his finger with his impossibly small hand. I’m watching two people fall in love, she thought. “Hey, you guys, come over here,” she said. Kyle handed John to her and then leaned over to kiss her softly. He was looking at her with that familiar intensity.
“I love you, Sarah.”
When he stood up he realized his clothing was soaked. “You go change,” Marta said to him as she rolled up the soiled bedding on the floor, “and then I’ll leave you all to get acquainted.” Marta spent a few minutes helping Sarah get started nursing and when all was going well, she gathered up her things and went home. As Kyle stood watching over them, Sarah and John almost immediately fell into exhausted sleep.
“You need a change of scenery. Kyle needs a breather. Let’s go spoil you a little,” Gen Klein had said two weeks later. So now she and Sarah and John were on their way to Las Cruces for two days of shopping and relaxing. Although Kyle had become a competent cook, he decided to eat at the Waffle House on his way home from work. It had been a long day and he was not looking forward to the empty cottage. Lanie was finishing her shift as Kyle paid the check. She almost skipped out the door, rolling up her uniform apron.
She reappeared almost immediately though, announcing she had a dead battery and asking if anyone had jumper cables. Kyle got up and went outside with her. After a few minutes, Susan saw both vehicles drive off. She had looked away before seeing Kyle’s truck following the Mustang.
Yes! thought Lanie. She had put on her best helpless act, asking Kyle to follow her home in case the car died again. Now she watched him in the rear view mirror as he drove at a steady distance behind. Had she left the apartment tidy? He probably wouldn’t notice or care. Ten minutes later they pulled up next to the stairway leading to her door. She parked and popped out of the driver’s seat. Quickly she walked up to the truck cab. “Can you look at this?”
“What?”
“It’s just making a funny noise, is all.” Kyle got out of the truck and walked around to the Mustang’s hood as Lanie pretended to work the release. As soon as he was in front of the car she turned toward him and said, “You know, actually it’s fine.” She paused carefully, “I just thought you might like to come inside.” Realizing her manipulation he stopped, but not before she had put her arms around his neck and kissed him awkwardly. He calmly removed her arms and held them at her sides for a moment, then simply walked away and got into the truck.
“Hey, Lanie, I’d like to come inside!” It was Derek and Rob. They were sitting under the next set of stairs and had seen the whole thing.
“Me too! Can I come in wit’ you?” Saying nothing, Lanie walked up the stairs with as much distain as possible. She waited until the door was closed and locked before she began to cry.