VI

Cal stood next to the open passenger door of his Camaro, waving a piece of cardboard like a fan in an attempt, per instructions from Camm, to air out his car. It was a half-hearted effort. He was more interested in the showdown that had begun between Camm and Lenny.

“You are not getting into that car until you go shower!” Camm stood with one hand firmly planted on her hip and the other pointing toward the showers. They had spent the night at a KOA near Flagstaff, Arizona, and they all wanted to get back on the road as soon as possible.

Lenny didn’t even bother looking toward the showers, but held his hands out in a helpless manner and, by way of argument, said, “Dude?”

The furrow on Camm’s brow deepened, and she stabbed her finger in the direction of the camp showers. “I’ve told you before, I’m not a dude! We are not getting back in that car with you until you shower! End of discussion! Now, move it! You’re wasting time.”

Lenny blinked at Camm, looking confused and helpless. He didn’t seem to register why anyone riding with him on a long, cross-country road trip would want him to shower.

Cal sighed and glanced heavenward as if help might come from that direction. No such luck. He should have seen this coming. Camm had come out to see him in Houston after Yale let out for summer, and Cal was ecstatic to see her again. Though he had promised to stay in touch with K’tlynn over the summer, with Camm around, he could think of nothing but teaming up with Camm again. She was anxious to find out what was happening in Trona, so they told their parents they were going to Los Angeles to stay with friends for a while and wanted to drive through Trona on the way there.

Camm had brought a friend, who had just finished her first year in law school at Yale. Her name was Martha. Cal thought she was nice, in a quiet kind of way. Martha said almost nothing to him, but he had heard her talking with Camm about a summer clerkship in L.A. Cal didn’t mind her coming along for the ride. If things had stayed like that, there wouldn’t have been any special problems, and everyone would have been happy.

However, the day before they left Houston, Lenny, Cal’s college roommate, showed up out of the blue. It was as if Lenny had just stepped out of the void into their world. He was on a full-ride academic scholarship and therefore felt he didn’t need to work during the summer. Instead, he had decided to go on a “walk-about.” Cal wasn’t sure what a walk-about was, except maybe bumming around and living off friends for the whole summer.

To Camm’s consternation, when Lenny heard that Cal, Camm, and Martha were headed to California, he could not be restrained from joining them. Lenny, the surfer, was counting on catching an awesome swell in So-Cal.

“Look,” Cal had tried to explain, “we’re going through Trona, where I grew up, and trust me, there are no waves in Trona. We’re, like, two hundred miles from the ocean. It’s all desert, man, just desert as far as the eye can see.”

“Dude. I heard your old man,” Lenny had retorted. “He said you’re on your way to L.A! That’s the bomb, dude. I’ll find a board, live on the beach, get to know the local babes. You know, just let me hitch along.”

Truth was, Cal didn’t mind having Lenny along. However, Cal had a higher resistance to the odiferous emanations that wafted from Lenny’s unwashed corpus than either Camm or Martha—especially Camm, who did all the complaining for both herself and Martha. Martha continued to say very little to anyone except Camm. Two days trapped with Lenny in Cal’s car was more than Camm was willing to tolerate.

“Go. Wash. Do it now, or we are leaving you here! You can hitchhike from here for all I care.” Camm looked like she meant it, and she probably did. Cal recognized that look on her face—there was no changing her mind at this point.

Lenny looked to Cal with pleading eyes. He had given them a long, rambling explanation as to why he didn’t shower more than once every ten days. It had something to do with hunter-gatherers, pheromones, and evolution. Cal was used to Lenny’s ramblings. Martha looked bemused, but Camm was having none of it. She had actually snorted in disgust.

“Clean up or clear out! Now! Hit the showers or we’re leaving without you! We’re not going to wait much longer.” Camm folded her arms emphatically.

Unfortunately, there was no way to reconcile Lenny’s desire to live as much as possible like a modern-day hunter-gatherer with Camm’s understanding of, let alone patience with, that concept. There was also no reconciling Lenny’s incomprehension as to why anyone would take offense at his body odor, and Camm’s intolerance for his rank smell. Both could be very stubborn, and Cal now saw that this clash had been inevitable from the start.

Lenny held out his hands. “Dude, I don’t even have any soap or anything.”

“Dude, yourself,” Camm fired back. “Hit the showers, and we’ll find soap.”

Camm was not giving in. She glanced over at Cal with irritation. Cal knew she hated being called “dude.” Lenny had been calling both her and Martha “dude” the whole trip.

Again, Lenny looked to Cal for rescue.

“Sorry, man,” Cal said, shrugging his shoulders. He had known who was going to win this fight the second it started. “She’s the boss. I take orders from her.”

“It’s your car, dude,” Lenny pleaded.

“Yeah, I know, but, like I said, she’s the boss. Get used to it. Just shower man, so we can get back on the road and not waste any more time.”

Cal knew Lenny was stubborn, but he was no match for Camm.

Martha saved the day. She grabbed her shower packet that contained her soap, shampoo, and other hygiene items. Taking Lenny by the arm, she directed him off toward the showers.

“I know Camm, too,” she explained with a knowing look in her eye. “Better do what she says before she punches your lights out.”

Cal could hear Lenny still grumbling, but he went along with Martha, apparently willing to follow instructions from her, if from no one else.

After they had passed out of hearing range, Camm shot Cal an annoyed look and said, “Tell me again why we’re bringing him along.”

Cal held his hands up in a helpless manner. “He asked for a ride to L.A., just like Martha.”

Camm scowled at him. “It’s not the same thing, and you know it. Martha’s helping pay for gas. Lenny’s not helping with anything.”

Cal’s eyes widened. “Hey, Camm, don’t move. There is something on your neck.” He reached toward her, but she brushed his hand away.

“Don’t try that with me! You’re just trying to change the subject.”

“No, Camm, really; there is something on your neck.” Cal reached out and plucked something off her neck. Holding up his palm, he showed her what he had found.

It was a small, brown, hairy spider, maybe a baby tarantula. Camm pulled back with an involuntary shiver. She hadn’t known it was on her, but now rubbed her neck vigorously. Cal knew it was hard to spook Camm, but he also knew she hated spiders. From their earliest childhood, it had been Cal’s job to get rid of spiders. Camm was so self-sufficient that she didn’t let Cal do much for her, so Cal had always been glad to perform at least that small service.

She shuddered again. “Get rid of it. Just get rid of it.” She turned her head away, refusing to look at it. Cal stepped over to some bushes and gently dropped it to the ground in a protected area, where it scurried to get away.

Camm was scowling when he returned. “I bet Lenny brought that thing into the car. He probably has insects and small rodents hidden all over his body.”

Cal sighed. “Yeah right, like he’s totally covered in spiders and rodents and stuff—just well hidden. Come on Camm, you are such a big, whiny baby.”

Camm smiled in spite of both Lenny and the spider. The light came back into her eyes. Cal had thrown down the gauntlet. “You’re a big, whiny baby with a poopy diaper.”

Cal countered immediately, “You are the poopy diaper.”

Camm pointed both index fingers at him and exclaimed, “You are the poop!”

Cal let her have the last word. This type of exchange was only a silly little ritual carried over from childhood, but for the moment, they both laughed, friends again. The tension had eased. They were, after all, lifelong best friends.

Camm sighed. “Cal, seriously, we have to talk to Lenny. He’s got to pay his own way!”

At that moment, Cal’s cell phone went off. Without looking to see who was calling, Cal said, “I’d better take this.” Turning away, he wandered off with his phone.

Camm stayed by the car, muttering to herself under her breath. She picked up the make-shift fan and continued the fruitless effort to rid the “odor de Lenny” from the car.

When Cal came back, the expression on his face had changed drastically.

Camm read his expression instantly. “What’s going on? Who was that on the phone?”

“A buddy from the Trona football squad. I told him to call me if anything else funny or weird happened. It looks like we have another Code Red.”

“Oh no!” Camm’s shoulders drooped. “Another one so soon? Who is it?”

“Dave McCurdy, but it gets worse.”

“How can it get worse?”

“Those old dudes in the suits are back. There are black SUVs and government agents everywhere. Even your old friend, Agent Allen, is there. Although, he said she doesn’t seem to be working directly with the other guys. I guess that’s government efficiency for you.”

“Agent Allen can hold her own. She knows what she is doing,” Camm said, sticking up for the FBI agent. “Those other guys better watch out.”

“I guess.” Cal remembered the white-haired men and the very real threats they had made. He wasn’t anxious to see them again.

He tilted his head. “But here’s the weird thing. No one knows what happened for sure. Dave was out with his party crew—you know, Jim, Sean, and Bob—and they just kinda came back without him. No one’s saying what happened to Dave, and no one, not even your sweet ol’ Agent Allen, can get near the other three. They were hauled out of Trona, in a black helicopter, no less, with not so much as a ‘by your leave’ for their parents. No one has talked to them or seen them since. Their parents are fit to be tied.

“All we know is that Dave’s parents have been told he met with a terrible accident and won’t be coming home—not even a body to bury. Jim, Sean, and Bob’s parents have been raising holy hell to find out what’s going on, but the Feds won’t even say where their sons have been taken. They could be at Guantanamo Bay, for all anybody knows.”

Camm looked exasperated. “This is going to make things more complicated.”

“Ya think?” Cal retorted sarcastically. “But wait, it’s more complicated than you know. They have set up a guard post or something just south of town, near the West End plant. No one who doesn’t already live in Trona is allowed to come into town, except to work at the plant. There’s talk of evacuating the whole town, but it may be just talk. Anyway, they don’t want to shut down the plant, so they are checking everyone’s ID who comes in or out of Searles Valley.

“If we try to go back, they will spot us a mile away. I don’t know what Jim, Sean, and Bob did, but I bet if the Feds catch us back in town, we’ll get the same treatment they got. Our parents will never know what happened to us.”

Camm put her chin in her hand and looked puzzled. Cal could tell she was thinking. For some reason, this brought back fond memories of a much younger Camm.

She finally asked, “Have they set up a road block on the north end of town, you know out by Valley Wells or Great Falls on the road that comes in from Panamint Valley?”

“I don’t think so, why?”

“I guess we’ll just have to use the back door then.” She gave a quick nod of her head.

Suddenly, Cal was paying full attention again. “What?”

“You know, rather than come in from the south, let’s head north to Vegas and Death Valley. We’ll come in from the north. It will take a couple extra hours, but if we get there in the middle of the night, they will never know we’re there, and we can find a place to hide out.”

Cal scowled with concern. “The Feds aren’t playing around, Camm. You know what will happen to us if they catch us sneaking around town, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course, I know. Are you turning chicken on me?”

“No,” Cal answered flatly. “I just wondered how you felt about spending the flower of your youth in a federal pen.”

“Let’s make contact with Agent Allen as soon as we can. She will help us think this through. We can trust her to not give us away to the NSA agents.”

“She couldn’t protect us from the NSA last time.”

“I know, Cal. It’s the best I can think of for now. We’ll work on it as we go, but we can’t just give up. There are innocent people in Trona, people we grew up with, and like you said, they are not being told the truth. They deserve a chance to protect themselves.”

Camm laid her hand on his arm and peered earnestly up into his face. “Unless we do something, kids will keep on disappearing. Think of the Justenoughs. Think of Dave. We can’t let this keep happening. We know things, important things, things that might save lives. At some point, what we know may be critical to those people. We have to go back.”

While Camm talked, Cal contemplated her face. She was all worked up, preparing to take on the world again. It brought back visions of her chewing out the old white-haired man. Cal had wanted to kiss her then, and suddenly, he wished he could now. Staring down at her upturned face, all he knew was, wherever she was going, he was going, too.

“Okay, let’s go do it, but, you know, I’m way too pretty for prison.”

Camm laughed in spite of herself and gave Cal a friendly punch in the arm. “Load up, pretty boy. Here come Martha and Lenny. Time to hit the road.”

Suddenly, turning back to Cal, Camm gave him a quizzical look. “What did you say? The flower of your youth? When did you get to be so poetic?”

“Oh, you know, in college they make you read books and stuff. Don’t be surprised. It won’t be long and I’ll be as smart as you, maybe even smarter.”

Camm laughed, but her eyes considered him thoughtfully.

She was still distracted when Lenny walked up to her and held his arms out for inspection. His hair was wet, and his long, blond ponytail was pulled tight in back, but was uncombed. His t-shirt and shorts were damp as if he had washed them and used the hand dryer on the bathroom wall to mostly dry them out. Everything smelled like Martha’s bath soap.

“There! You happy now?” he demanded with pain in his voice.

“Yes,” Camm said as she guided him toward the car. “You smell like a rose.”

That did not make Lenny happy. “Dude! I don’t want to smell like a rose—that is so unnatural. I want to smell like a hunter-gatherer.”

Camm rolled her eyes, “Whatever, caveman. We’ll return you to the wild as soon as possible. Now, get in the car. There has been a slight change of plans.”

Any relief Cal felt from the resolution of the Camm-Lenny conflict was washed away by the nervous anticipation of going back to Trona, and maybe to prison. Cal knew those white-haired guys meant business. Nevertheless, he slid into his Camaro and started the engine.

Martha and Lenny sat close together in the back seat, discussing the pros and cons of rose-scented soap. Cal was surprised by how much of the talking was coming from Martha. She was deeply involved in the discussion, making some strong arguments about the advantages of smelling like a rose if you were a modern-day hunter-gatherer.

Glancing over at Camm, seated next to him, Cal smiled. The air in the car was a lot easier to breath now. If he was going down, at least he was going down with Camm. For better or worse, Team One was back in business, and that was what was important. Whatever they had to face, they would face it together. Cal couldn’t ask for more than that—at least for now.

Slipping the Camaro into first gear, he released the clutch and pressed hard on the gas. With a roar of the engine and a screech of the tires, they were on their way to Trona.