| |
We’re not three hundred feet away from the motel when I spot the rooftop flashers on not one, but two state trooper cruisers in the rearview. Or what I’m guessing are state troopers since we’re all the way out in the sticks where no regular police force exists. At first, I feel like they’re about to pursue us, and a wave of ice-cold water races up my spine. But when they pull into the motel lot, I know we’re in the clear. At least for now.
“Now what?” Joanne asks.
For a time, I don’t say a word. I just concentrate on the dark, winding country road ahead of me, the bright white light from the halogen headlamps cutting through it like flame through a black curtain.
Then, “Do you think God is on our side, Joanne?” I ask. “I mean, after everything we’ve done, the people we’ve killed, the money we stole, the drugs we sold, after our son taking two bullets...do you think God still likes us more than he does someone like Don Juan or Carcov?”
She turns to me. I shoot her a quick glance over my shoulder.
“Why would you ask a question like that?” she answers. “Of course, he likes us more. He loves us.”
“But we’ve done some pretty bad things, Jo.”
“I think of the bad things as things we had to do for the greater good.”
Shooting her another glance. “Like killing the Camps?”
“Okay,” she says, “maybe that wasn’t so great. But Sean did the actual killing, and as far as I know, it was only a suggestion. I wasn’t actually convinced he was going to go through with it.”
I’m not sure whether to believe her explanation or not. Or whether she believes it herself. Maybe it’s something she’s convinced herself of just for the sake of sanity. God knows how much she’s changed over the past few months, how much she has shed her old Joanne skin. It was the skin of an aging, timid, nearsighted middle-aged woman who drove like an old lady, looked after her mother, and who’s only ambition in life was to volunteer at the local library. Now she’s a killer, a drug runner, a money launderer, and a cheating wife.
Maybe she was all of these things all along, but only recently did everything come out. Kind of like a caterpillar that stays in its cocoon for far too long before sprouting its wings into a big, bright butterfly. But then, I’ve changed too. Maybe I haven’t cheated on Joanne, but I’m just as guilty as she is for a whole lot of crimes. One day, we’ll pay for our sins. But right now, more sins require committing.
We come to a red traffic light. Up ahead, is a small pocket of commercial buildings. There’s the hardware store where I bought the duct tape earlier. I’m also seeing a McDonalds, and a Stewarts gas station-slash-bread and butter shop. When the light turns green, I slowly proceed through the intersection. What I see at the gas station raises the hackles on the back of my neck.
It’s a big black Suburban, and a stocky young gangster with shaved head covered in tattoos is presently filling his tank.