10

Kevin’s twitching went on and on.

She couldn’t leave him. Not all alone. Not in this condition. On the other hand, she had to go for help, and she couldn’t carry him. Two mutually exclusive courses of action. ‘A’ or ‘Not A’. It was the simple logic she taught the first week in her geometry classes. No matter which one she picked, she would be wrong. She was sure of it.

Maybe she should search for the gun. It had to be in one of his jacket pockets. But he was lying on his stomach. She couldn’t get to the pockets. Not unless she turned him over. And she didn’t know if that would be safe for him. Perhaps he’d choke on his own saliva.

Oh, Lord, help.

Muriel picked up one of Roxanne’s blankets and draped it over Kevin. She put a hand on his shoulder, exerting a slight pressure she hoped would be reassuring. She didn’t think he could hear her, but she spoke anyway, raising her voice a notch just in case. “I’m leaving now. But don’t worry. I’ll be back. I’m going to find you some help.”

He turned his head again. The moans escaping from his lips were heartbreaking.

An adrenalin rush took over. Muriel scurried up the hill in half the time it took her just that morning. Standing on the road, she looked back. She hoped that Kevin would be sitting up, that silly, lopsided smile on his face.

She couldn’t leave Kevin too long. She didn’t know what kind of condition he’d be in when he came to. There was no way he could protect himself. Not against humans or wild animals or even biting insects. His almost mature body was as vulnerable as Natalie’s newborn body had been in her crib.

Vernon lived to the left. He’d walked here and back at least once today. Surely, she could walk one way one time even with her bad ankle. Could she put Kevin’s welfare into the hands of some indecent old man? Vernon seemed her best hope. And she couldn’t waste more time thinking. She had to act.

Muriel ran until her heart felt as if it would work its way right out of her chest. And then she ran some more. Everything hurt. Her chest, her side, her ankle. She had turned seventy-one on her last birthday and here she was pounding down the hard road surface like an Olympic sprinter. Lord, just show me where he lives.

She couldn’t stop; she had no time. She had to stop; her chest hurt too much. She paused to catch her breath. A fence post nestled in some daylilies whose buds were not yet open. On top of the post teetered a rusted mailbox, its door agape. A mailbox meant a house. Never mind, Lord. I found a house. Whoever lived here should be able to help her out.

She saw the apron of a driveway and started down the broken asphalt. Dogs barked, the volume increasing the nearer she got. Dogs were a good sign. They couldn’t be left alone too long. Even if nobody was home, somebody would be back soon.

“Hello?” Her voice was tentative. There was no answer. “Hello?”

At the end of the driveway was a two-story house, parts of its siding green with mold. A large planter hung from a hook on a lamppost with a broken bulb. Brown tendrils of a long dead plant drooped from the planter. The only thing Muriel could see that looked healthy was a pink peony surrounded by tall weeds.

The dogs were the same collie crosses she’d seen that morning, now chained to a fallen log. The volume of their barks increased. They lunged toward her, stretching out unyielding chains. Lassie’s bark became quicker and more intense while Laddie’s bark turned into a growl accompanied by bared teeth.

“Good doggie. You remember me, don’t you? I was out in the field this morning. Good doggie. Sit!”

Both dogs sat. The barking ceased. Lassie’s tail wagged tentatively.

“Good Lassie. Good Laddie.” Muriel scanned the area. A pickup truck was parked in the overgrown grass just off the driveway. She peered inside. There were no keys dangling from the ignition. Muriel hesitated. Did she really have to ring the doorbell? She remembered the way Vernon suggested that she spend the night in his house. There had to be some other way.

A bicycle leaned against the house.

She hadn’t ridden a bike since her college days. And this was a man’s bike. Could she balance on a bike after all these years? There was only one way to find out. Muriel grabbed the handlebars and moved the bike into an upright position. She wheeled it around so it was pointing up the driveway toward the road. There was something to the right because that’s where Kevin got gas. She could make good time with a bike as long as she didn’t fall off.

If she had gotten on the highway yesterday as Kevin had ordered her to, they would have already been stopped by police. They would both be home, safe in their own comfortable beds. Speeding past an entrance ramp had changed her entire life. It hadn’t seemed like such an important decision at the time.

And who would have thought a young man like Kevin would need the help of an old lady like her? All right, deep breath. She didn’t have to plan her whole trip. Her first step was to walk the bike to the top of the driveway. It would be easier if she started on a level surface. As Muriel started up the driveway, the dogs began to bark again. “Good doggie. Sit!” Muriel spoke without even looking back.

But this time the barking didn’t stop. Instead, it increased in volume and intensity. A door slammed.

She startled and turned around.

Vernon stood against the backdrop of the house with a shotgun pointed directly at her.