The Last Exit to Normal Read online

  “Livin’ in the clouds isn’t a bad thing, my friend. You back in town?”

  “No. I need help, though.”

  “I don’t send through the mail. That’s federal stuff.”

  “I gave up the smoke, Quaverly. Straight as an arrow.”

  “I was correct, then. The world is coming to an end.”

  “I need to find somebody.”

  “Hmmm. Interesting. Care to elaborate?”

  I gave him Mrs. Hinks’s new name, the city, and the name of the restaurant she gave in the letters to Miss Mae. “I need it quick, too.”

  Silence on the line for a couple of minutes. I heard fingers on a keyboard. “Okay. Got the info from you, now we’ll see.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “As we speak, hombre. Call me back in two hours and I’ll have whatever I have.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “My displeasure. Now hang up and leave me alone.”

  After I hung up, I got my jacket on and left, my keys jangling in my hand. When Greg had come over to help with the truck, he’d said he lived on Gordon Lane. I found it without too much trouble, then eased down the street, looking for his Bronco. It was sitting in front of a white one-story house with a small front porch and a Ford F-250 sitting in the driveway. Flowers lined the walk up to the door. I knocked, and a woman with the beginnings of age lines around her eyes answered: “May I help you?”

  “Is Greg home?”

  She glanced at my truck, then smiled. “Are you Ben? I recognize Miss Mae’s truck.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Just a moment.” Then she was gone, leaving the door open. A flowery scent drifted from the house, and it reminded me of when my mom had potpourri in our house back in Spokane. Greg came to the door. “Hey, what’s up?”

  I smiled. “Listen, where does Ron live?”

  He frowned. “Over on Hanscomb. Why?”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Take a left on Ellis Street, two blocks down from here, then a right.” He paused. “Everything cool?”

  “Yeah. Everything settled. He forgot his wallet at the house when we were talking the other day, and I want to give it back to him.” I realized how lame that sounded as soon as I said it.

  He nodded, not quite sure what was going on. “He’s not home.”

  “Where is he? Miss Mae told me I couldn’t come back until I’d given it to him. Something about another person’s property or something.”

  He smiled. “The Pond. There’s a party out there again.”

  “Cool. Where is it?”

  “Five miles out on the highway. East. Take a right at Road 2343. Go a mile and you’ll see it on the left. There’ll be a bunch of cars there.” He studied me. “You sure you want to go out there?”

  I forced a smile. “Sure. We hashed things out. Just giving the new guy a hard time, you know? He’s pretty cool.” Silence from Greg, and for cousins, I wondered just how much Greg liked him. “Well, I’d better split. Take it easy, and thanks again for the truck stuff.”

  “No problem.”

  I hopped in the truck and drove east on the highway, watching the odometer until I’d gone five miles. A minute later, the headlights flashed against the marker for Road 2343. I took a right and drove down the bumpy dirt lane, looking for cars.

  Five minutes later, I came to the spot. I cut the lights early and parked on the side of the road, hopping out and stuffing my keys in my pocket. The Pond was surrounded by brush and spindly pine trees, and as I walked toward it, I heard music. I stopped, circling around to the right, until I saw the glow of a bonfire. I crept through the trees. Twenty or thirty people, the elite of the Rough Butte socialites, sat and stood around the bonfire, listening to country music and partying. A couple of girls danced together in the firelight while the guys hee-hawed and laughed. The Pond was opposite me, a black hole in the moonless night.

  It took me a few minutes of creeping around to find Ron. He sat on a cooler, drinking a beer and slurring his words to a guy in a lawn chair with a straw cowboy hat and Levi’s jacket on. I crouched by a tree, watching.

  I knew I had to be careful. The thought of twenty or so country boys having a bit of fun with the city kid who was spying on them didn’t settle well with me. I broke out in a sweat as Ron threw his empty in the fire, stood, opened the cooler, and grabbed another beer. He opened it and swigged half of it down.

  Every few minutes, I noticed the occasional guy head off down a little trail. It took me a while to figure out it was the pee area. I crept closer to it, setting myself in between the party and where a guy was peeing on a log. I could still see Ron through the flickering flames of the bonfire.

  Ron drank the rest of his beer and half of another one before he stood up, loudly proclaiming he was going to wiggle the worm. Milk the cow. Choke the chicken. How original. He stumbled around the fire with the beer in his hand, then came down the trail.

  I let him pass, and when I heard the splash of liquid falling on leaves, I came up behind him. “Hey, Ron.”

  He apparently didn’t recognize my voice and didn’t turn, finishing his business. “Can’t a guy even take a leak without . . .”

  I came at him from behind, locking my arm around his neck and yanking him to the ground. We landed with a slam, but I kept my grip. “It’s me, Ron. Benald. And we need to talk.”

  He didn’t struggle, didn’t say a word. Just tried to breathe.

  I whispered in his ear: “What would your cousin Greg think if he knew you tried to rape his girlfriend after you tricked him into getting so drunk he passed out?”

  Ron held his breath, then exhaled. “You’re dead, man. One hundred percent dead.”

  I tightened my arm around his neck, straining. “No, Ron, I’m not. You don’t have the balls to do that. You burn shit down and kill animals and try to rape girls, but you don’t face people. You slink around, right? Like the other night when you followed Kim and me to the cemetery.” I listened to him struggle to breathe. “Know what’s going to happen now, Ron? I’m going to get up and go home and pretend this never happened. You are, too, and you know why?”

  He didn’t answer.

  I jerked my arm around his neck. “You know why?”

  “Why?” he croaked.

  “Because if you don’t, this whole town is going to know what you did. And let me tell you something else. Wanna know what else, Ron?” When he didn’t answer, I jerked his neck again.

  “What?”

  “I don’t think Kim’s brother would take it very well, do you? Or Greg. Or the sheriff.” Silence. I tightened my grip. “Talk to me, Ron. Do you think Dirk would take it very well that you tried to rape his sister?”

  “No.”

  “Good, then, because I’d bet every dollar I have that you’d end up missing if Dirk found out. Just one of those country mysteries, you know?” I paused, waiting for this to sink in. “Now I’m going to let you go, and you’re going to get up and grab another beer and think about what might happen if things don’t go your way. Got it? Because this didn’t happen. None of it did, and you’re going to go about your life and I’ll go about mine, and everybody will be happy.”

  He didn’t answer, his breathing ragged as I let him go. He lay on his back, staring up at the trees. Then I was gone.

  I called Quaverly when I got home. Dad and Edward were putting in another late night at the restaurant. The clock read ten-fifteen. Quaverly picked up. “Hey, Quaverly. Ben.”

  “Ben-O. Got some news for you.”

  “Spill.”

  “They’re still in Vegas. New address.” He gave it to me, along with a phone number.

  “How’d you find out?”

  He laughed into the receiver. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be magic anymore.”

  “So be it, buddy. Thanks.”

  “Drop on by if you’re ever in town, huh?”

  “Sure thing.” I hung up and stared at the phone number, picturing what I’d say to Jenni
fer Lindy about her son. Nothing worked. Hey, my name is Ben and I know your son, Billy. He really wants to come live with you. Or Hey, your son is being abused by your ex-husband. He makes him pee in a jar when he’s living in the closet. Could you come pick him up?

  Nothing seemed right. The phone wasn’t right. She’d blow it off. She’d say she was sorry, but that she couldn’t do anything. She’d hang up on me. She had a new life. Then I thought about kidnapping the kid and taking him to Vegas. That wouldn’t work; this wasn’t a movie. Then I decided what I had to do.

  I had to tell it to her in person. I had to make her believe.

  CHAPTER 22

  “I’m going.”

  Static came over the line as Kim talked. “Ben, you aren’t serious. You can’t just drive to Las Vegas and ask Billy’s mother to come get him.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Call her. Tell her what’s going on.”

  “You know as well as I that it won’t work.”

  “Ben . . .”

  “I have to do this, Kim, and it has to work. He thinks she hates him.”

  Silence.

  “You don’t know what it’s like to think your mom doesn’t love you, Kim.”

  Silence, then a sigh.

  “Come with me.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Come with me to Las Vegas. I looked on a map. It’s only like thirteen hours if you drive fast.”

  “I can’t. My dad wouldn’t let me.”

  “You can if you don’t tell him, but you don’t want to come.”

  “I do want to, but I’m not going to lie.”

  “Then don’t. Leave him a note. Tell him you’re not running away, but that you have to perform a civic duty.”

  She laughed. “I can’t, Ben.”

  “Come with me. We’ll be back in two days, tops.”

  She thought about it. “The only way I could go would be if Dirk came with us. Then my dad would say okay.”

  I hadn’t seen him since hunting. “Is he pissed about the diarrhea thing?”

  “He was for a while, but he decided to be a good sport when I reminded him he almost broke your shoulder.”

  I imagined driving to Nevada with Dirk. “You sure that’s the only way?”

  A smile lit her voice. “Yes. He does anything I want him to.”

  “Okay. Fine by me, but we’re leaving in an hour.”

  An hour later, Dirk pulled up in his humongous truck, and he had a humongous frown on his face. Kimberly sat, smiling, in the passenger seat. Dad and Edward were still gone. I hopped in the backseat. “Hey, guys.” I leaned forward and pecked Kim on the cheek. “Hey, Dirk. Want some coffee?”

  He turned, ready to grab me, but Kim put her hand on his shoulder. “Dirk, you promised.”

  I smiled. “Come on, Dirk, I nailed you fair and square.”

  He shook his head, but I saw a smile on his face through the rearview. “Yeah, sure.”

  I buckled up. “So, how’s the ass?”

  That got him laughing. He fired the engine up. “You got gas money?”

  I nodded. “Gas and food on me. Let’s go.”

  He nodded, in surprisingly good spirits despite chauffeuring us to Las Vegas late night. Kim turned back to me. “What’d you tell your dad?”

  “I left a note saying that you were pregnant and that we were going to Vegas to get hitched.”

  Dirk scowled at me in the rearview mirror. I shook my head. “I’m so joking it’s incredible, Dirk. In fact, just knowing you made me sterile.” The truth was that I hadn’t said a word to anybody.

  He drove on. “Tell me the story about this kid,” he said.

  I did, and as I spoke, I noticed his profile relax. He hit the highway south, and nodded. “He’s really screwed up?”

  “I don’t know. He’s just . . . shit, man, I don’t know. I guess I owe him.”

  “You owe him?”

  I smiled. “Not really. I just think that if I was him, I’d like somebody giving a shit about me. Besides, I’ve always wanted to pull a hell run to Vegas.”

  Dirk cranked it up to eighty on the deserted highway. “You’re a different duck, city boy. That’s for sure.”

  I watched the shadowed fields fly by. “You know the way?”

  He nodded. “Sure do. Roads the cops don’t use, too.”

  “Cool.”

  CHAPTER 23

  When I woke up, the dash clock read six in the morning. The landscape flew by. Kim was sound asleep in the front seat, and a slow twang came softly through the speakers. “Hey, Dirk,” I whispered. “You tired?”

  He spit into the ever-present empty Pepsi can in the cup holder. “You ain’t driving this truck.”

  “Your choice, but I know how to drive, and I just slept.”

  We drove a couple of miles in silence. Then he let off the gas and pulled over. We were in the middle of nowhere, and I mean nowhere. We switched, and he lay down across the backseat. I put the truck in gear. He sighed. “I don’t have to tell you what happens if even a bug hits this truck too hard. Go the speed limit.”

  I didn’t smile. “Got it. Speed limit. I’ll wake you before we get into the city.”

  He settled in. “There’s a map in the console.”

  So I drove. I set the cruise at exactly the speed limit, and it was a solid hour before I relaxed even a little bit. I hadn’t seen a single car. Kim stirred, then opened her eyes. I smiled. “Hey, Sunshine. Good morning.”

  She looked at me, then at Dirk sleeping in the backseat. “He let you drive?”

  “I’m the dependable type.”

  She stretched, opening a box of mini donuts and popping one in her mouth. We’d stocked up on junk at a roadside gas station the night before. She chewed, then washed it down with some Gatorade. “You think this will work?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. “We’ll see.”

  Hours later, I pulled off to the side of the road and woke Dirk. We were at the Las Vegas city limits, and being that I said I’d wake him when we got there, and also being that I had a suspended Washington State driver’s license that everybody had seemed to not ask about, I didn’t want to risk getting arrested. I swallowed my guilt. I’d told Dirk I knew how to drive, not that I had a license.

  Vegas in the late morning was awesome, and I could only imagine what it would be like at night. Dirk took us through the Strip, and we were able to see all the hotels and casinos. The one that looked like a black pyramid was right up my alley. Dirk drove while I recited the address, and it took us forty-five minutes and a stop at a gas station to find the neighborhood, in a suburb.

  We came to a gated entrance to a development called Moran Heights, and luckily the gates stood open. I looked at the houses. I’d expected to find a ho-hum neighborhood, but the only thing ho-hum about this one was nothing. The streets were wide, the gutters clean, and the houses big. “Looks like Mrs. Hinks is doing well,” I said.

  Dirk searched the house numbers, winding around a corner. We passed a small park with a fountain in it. “Looks like,” he said. Then he slowed, pointing. “There it is: 2234.”

  I looked. These were definitely cookie-cutter houses, probably nine or ten floor plans for the hundreds of houses in the development, but they were nice cookies. Three-car garages, multilevel, small front yards, old-fashioned lampposts strung along the sidewalks—this was yuppie suburbia to the max. A lady with a baby stroller walked down the other side of the street.

  I studied the place. “We fit in here like a fart in church.” Dirk and Kim laughed. I unbuckled my seat belt. “Do you want to come, Kim?”

  She nodded. “Sure.”

  We walked up the driveway and then to the door, and I heard Dirk cut the engine. Kim took my hand. “Nervous?”

  “Me? Naw.”

  “Liar.”

  “Okay, a little.” Our hands parted as I knocked on the door. We stood there expecting something we didn’t know, and after a moment, a lady answered the door. I blinked. S
lim and small-featured, she looked young for a mom. Probably thirty or so. And pretty. Her hair was cut short and highlighted with blond streaks, and she wore beige slacks and a light green blouse of some sort. She looked at me, frowning, then looked at Kim. A moment passed. “Kimberly Johan? Is that you? What . . .” Her words trailed away.

  Kim stepped forward. “Hello, Mrs. Hinks.”

  Billy’s mother looked at the truck, fear in her eyes. “Mrs. Lindy.”

  Kim blushed. “I’m sorry.”

  Mrs. Lindy took a deep breath, then exhaled. “What are you doing here? Are you all right?”

  Kim took the lead. “Yes.” She introduced me: “This is Ben. He and his dad are living with Miss Mae.”

  Mrs. Lindy’s face fell.

  I stuck my hand out. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” She shook it, and just like back home on my bed when I was thinking about what to say, nothing sounded right in my head. I’d thought about it for hours on the way down, but now, nothing came.

  A moment of silence passed. Mrs. Lindy’s face went slack. “This is about Billy, isn’t it?”

  I studied her face. “He needs you.”

  She cleared her throat. “Come in.”

  Kim and I sat at the dining room table. The house was immaculate. Mrs. Lindy offered us something to drink, and we both declined. She sat across from us. Kimberly smiled at her. “You look different.”

  Mrs. Lindy nodded. Her eyes pierced mine. “Is he all right?”

  I nodded. “He’s fine.”

  A look crossed her face.

  “Mr. Hinks doesn’t know we’re here,” I said.

  She relaxed, but just a little bit. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. . . . Why are you here?”

  “He needs you, ma’am. I’ve gotten to know him since we moved in, and—I don’t know. He’s a good kid, and he misses you. I guess I just wanted to tell you that.”

  Her chin quivered for just a moment. “I miss him, too.”

  “He thinks you don’t love him.” I looked at her, searching her face. “I guess I came here to find out.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “Of course I do.” She dabbed at her face; then both hands went to her stomach. She smiled through her tears: “He’s going to have a brother.” Then she looked away.