Right Behind You

NOVEMBER 6, 1963

 

Darkness lingered in the morning and rain clouds festered in the sky of the Smokies. Ruby Starr had an abundance of water bottles stuffed into the pockets of her diner uniform and her parka, but Tim was more interested in the contents of her backpack.

“A plethora of supplies this week,” Tim said. “Diana finally talked you into bringing her curlers?”

Since the agents had taken her under their wing, Ruby had picked up more than a few shifts to cover their luxury expenses. Now, she was bringing them produce, clothes, sanitary products, and books on a weekly basis. This week, she had even splurged and brought them a collection of “manager’s special” canned mystery meat. It wasn’t that great. In fact, it wasn’t even a fraction of what they were likely used to, but it was something.

“I was hoping it was enough food. I know last time you mentioned Rigan’s ample appetite.” She poked through her bag.

“Boy always eats more than he should.” Tim sighed. “More aspirin?”

“Yeah, Diana mentioned that Da Vinci is coming down with a cold and she’s just being cautious in case it turns into something big.”

“That’s news.” Tim narrowed his eyes as he focused on the bottle for a moment. “I guess it makes sense. It seems as though he’s the only one of us who is warm-blooded.”

Tim dug his hand into the bag and pulled out a newer but severely well-loved book. “What is this?” He flipped it over to read the back, noticing a torn, bent backside. “Do you bend your page corners?”

“Only when I don’t have a bookmark. But man! You haven’t read this? It’s great. It’s by this lady named Victoria, and it’s seriously all about how hard it is to be a young woman in the here and now. I brought it for Diana, but only because I assumed you had already read it. You’ve got to give it a read.” She dived into the backpack on her own and pulled out a collection of poetry.

“Victoria Lucas…” Tim held the book in his hands, staring at it for a moment before skimming through the pages. “I think I’ll keep this one for myself,” he mused. “That said, I have something for you.” Tim pulled from his back pocket a thin envelope addressed to Fairbanks, Alaska. “We need you to get this in the mail, but we need you to travel at least a hundred miles north of Bryson to send it out.”

“A hundred miles?” Ruby let the words come out a bit more distraught than she intended. “Tim, that’s a long way to go. Especially with the passion wagon still all beat up.”

“Anything in that range and we risk it being found by the KGB. Diana’s written it in a cipher. If you can get it through, there is a chance we’ll be escaping very soon.”

“Who’s it for?” she asked, taking the envelope from his blue, veiny hands.

“Adams. He’s a friend of ours. If anyone can get us out of here alive, it is him.”

Ruby bit her lip, staring for a moment at the letter and calculating gas and time frames before decided it was a task she could handle. “All right. Does it need…postage?”

“Mhm.” Tim nodded, digging into his back pocket and pulling out stamps. “You brought us these a few weeks ago for a reason.”

Ruby’s face reddened. “Oh, I forgot about these. I wanted to get you guys these cool ones with cowboys on them, but they were all out.” She looked at the waving American flag as though she could just barely see a horse and lasso underneath. “Next time.”

“Assuming Adams writes back,” Tim scoffed. “Diana and Da Vinci have high hopes, but Adams is notorious for his committal problems.”

“Man, is that another book?” Rigan’s carried over as he entered from the opposite side of the stream, walking across as though it was nothing and then breaking on shore with the gentle waves. “Ruby, you have got to stop bringing him romance novels. It’s time he branches out and finds other hobbies.”

Tim looked at Rigan with a serious expression on his face. “Don’t just pop out like that. You could end up hurt.”

“What? You going to shoot me?” Rigan laughed hard while his friends remained silent. “What’d you bring him?”

“It’s this artsy little book.” Ruby beamed. “It’s so good you should read it once Diana and Tim are done with it.”

“That reminds me.” Tim pulled a book from the inside of a ratty suit coat Ruby had brought them. “This is yours then.” He handed a slightly water-logged copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest to Rigan.

Rigan looked at it skeptically and then turned his full attention to Ruby. “What’s it about?”

Ruby looked at him, surprised that he didn’t address Tim, but at this point, she started to accept that the group just had a universal issue with Tim. Diana never spoke highly of him. Rigan always harassed him. The only one kind to him was Da Vinci.

“Asylums and just institutionalization and Native Americans. It’s just… It’s hard to explain, but you have to read it no matter how poorly I sell it.”

Rigan wore a rascally grin. “I’ve been to asylums like you wouldn’t believe.” Rigan sounded ready to say more, but Tim cut him off.

“Remember, Ruby has to go home alone tonight,” he said coolly. “No reason to scare her.”

“Oh, no worries. I sleep with a bat by my bedside, anyway,” Ruby assured them. “Ever since I met you guys, I feel as though danger is always looming.”

Rigan and Tim went for an obvious jab about how she would one day attack the very aliens that came to collect her, but as they both spoke over each other, the joke was lost in translation, leaving both acutely irritated.

Rigan flipped the book over in his hands, leaving a sticky residue on the cover as the natural moisture of his hands rubbed off. “Honestly, Tim, I’m surprised you had this at all. It’s not your usual grab. Maidens, knights, Anna Karenina.”

“Anna Karenina is not my cup of tea. Just because it is old and has a woman’s name in the title does not mean it is in my required reading collection.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Rigan was already skimming his new book.

“What is your required reading list?” Ruby mused, leaning over Tim’s shoulder and peeking into The Bell Jar.

“Oh, a wide va—”

“Romance.” Rigan didn’t look up from his own book as he weighed in on the conversation. “Tim is always falling in love with someone, fictional or not.” He rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t be Tim if he wasn’t.”

Tim shrugged. “Rigan’s right.” He laughed dryly. “A lot of the Bronte sisters’ work. A bit of Dickens, Austen, of course.” He stopped just as a sprinkle of rain began to fall.

“So did he ever?” Ruby turned her attention to Rigan now, her curiosity running wild.

“Ever what?” Rigan closed his book. They paid the rain no mind.

“Really fall in love.” Ruby smiled shyly for a moment but unable to hide her hunger any longer. She was excited to hear this story as she was certain Tim had to have fallen in love at least once.

“Oh, plenty of times like—” Rigan was cut off by Tim.

“I think it is only fair I tell this one.” He laughed very quietly. “I think Ruby would agree.”

Ruby’s gaze lingered on Rigan for a moment as though still considering hearing his version of the story—as it was often more exciting and heavily embellished—but she then relinquished, turning the spotlight to Tim.

“So, tell me about the women you’ve loved.”

This time, when Tim spoke, he sounded vacant, as though off somewhere else for the time-being. “It was really only one…one woman.”

*

Holly controlled the dance floor, bobbing her head and swinging her hips in a slow, cool way. She had sweeping platinum-blonde hair hanging down to her shoulders, straight and glossy. It swayed with her every move. Tim watched quietly from the bar, suppressing a smile. He often tried not to give himself away so fast, though he rarely was able to. Her presence did not demand the attention of every man in the room, but that of Tim, nonetheless.

“You’re hopeless,” the bartender said while pouring a glass of scotch. “Think you’ll talk to this one?”

“She’s not my type,” Tim assured.

“I don’t believe that a second.” The bartender slapped the glass down in front of Tim, a cheesy smile on his face. “A man like yourself must know all sorts of things about romance.”

“A man like me?”

“You come in here on the weeknights and read the classics, your textbooks, old fiction, all the sorts. A scholar is never one without romance.”

“You work weeknights?” Tim answered, faking a surprised expression. He knew Irv, the bartender, worked weeknights. He chose not to talk to him because he didn’t want to look like one of those sob stories who view their life from the bottom of a bottle.

“Mhmmm,” Irv replied. “I see the way women look at you. You’re a very interesting man, Mr. Carroll. You pique interest, but you never follow through.”

“Women don’t look at me.” He sighed, pulling out a notepad to aimlessly scribble on. Despite his large stature, Tim always had a way of making himself appear small.

“Now, that’s nonsense. The one out there. What’s her name? Harriet?”

“Holly Scott. She’s new in town and happily taken. She’s rather keen on the guy to her left, Keith Richardson. They’re going steady.” Tim gestured back to a tall, young jock dancing to her right.

“You go to college with these two? Or have you just done an awful lot of research, Mr. Carroll?”

“For the love of Christ, Irv, call me Tim. We’ve gone through this. But to answer your question, I don’t go to school with them. Information just travels down the grapevine to me. I’ve changed my mind on the scotch. Can I get a rum and Coke?” Tim slid the glass back to Irv and found himself staring at the slow moving, sensual young lady on the dance floor. She had the kind of darling eyes that won hearts over in mere moments. Each step she took had a youthful bounce to it.

Frank Sinatra’s familiar tune spilled from the speakers and flooded the whole bar. People rushed to the dance floor. However, Holly and Keith rushed off.

“One beer and a cider for the lady.” Keith pulled open his wallet and gave Irv a ratty ten-dollar bill.

“See, MSU,” Irv said to Tim but gestured to Keith’s varsity sport’s jacket. “Told you I wasn’t losin’ my mind. This cat—” Irv pointed to Tim. “—tried telling me your jacket wasn’t a local college, but I knew.”

Suddenly, all attention was on Tim. His face started to drain of heat. Tim couldn’t tell if he was feeling more nervous or embarrassed. He took his hat off to busy his hands. “I should have recognized you. I always see you at UM’s football games.” He spoke coolly, despite his nerves.

“You go to Michigan Tech?” Holly raised a single brow in interest; she disregarded Keith’s half-mumbled “Let’s get out of here” and sat down next to Tim, “What’s it like there? My brother’s going there and won’t tell me a thing. I’m Holly, by the way. Holly Scott, I just moved here from south of Chicago.” She shook his hand.

Tim then pretended to know nothing about her. “Nice to meet you, Holly. I’m Tim Carroll, and the campus is just beautiful. It’s a si—” He was cut off by Keith.

“Holly, we need to go.” Keith looked visibly irritated that their time was being wasted.

“Just a second,” she huffed and spun around in her seat toward Keith, placing her hand on his knee. “I just want to ask this kid some questions about UM. You know I’m going to work at a college some day and I want to make sure I pick the right one. Besides, after we finish these drinks, we can head on outta here.” Tim picked up an underlying tone of suggestion in her voice. His stomach churned at the thought of that ape pawing at the poor girl.

“You want to work at a university?” Tim answered, impressed. “What for? Teaching?”

“Yes.” She batted her eyelashes at Tim. “I love astrology, the stars, the science. It’s all fascinating, and don’t get me started on the zodiacs. You look like…a Cancer, am I right?” She smiled big again, and Tim laughed.

“You’re right! July twelfth!” Tim answered like he was impressed. In reality, he was a Virgo, but he wanted her to think she was correct, just so he could see her eyes sparkle again.

“You know the zodiac signs, too?” Holly asked.

“By heart. I find the idea of fate and destiny to be an extremely fascinating and comforting topic.” And thus sparked a beautiful friendship. Holly and Tim nearly talked each other’s ears off about the idea of a divine god, a fate worse than death, predetermined soul mates, and Jung personality types.

Even the stoic-looking Keith chipped in a comment occasionally. He amused Tim. Keith had quite a zany personality for a meathead. At one point, Keith balanced a glass on his forehead so intently that he almost fell out of his chair keeping it steady.

Their little section of the bar constantly erupted into laughter. Keith had comedy, Holly had charm, and Tim had intelligence. Irv almost never moved, keeping a watchful eye on the conversation and the top of their drinks always overflowing. He even let them stay an hour after closing time and called a cab when their night finally ended.

They piled into their yellow chariot and the fun didn’t stop.

“I’ve just had a ball with you tonight.” Keith chuckled. “We’ve got to do this again sometime.”

“Ooh let’s! Let’s! That’d be a gas,” Holly cooed with excitement. “Why not after class this Thursday? Same time, same place?” She smiled expectantly at Tim.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Tim replied.

When they finally reached MSU’s campus, Tim waved, sad that they had to go. Once they piled out, the taxi driver sped toward Tim’s dormitory at UM.

Tim had a rare lightness to him. His typical friends were hermits, rarely leaving their dorms or their weeknight seats at the bar. Keith and Holly were a different kind of people, the kind of people who went out and did things! He left the cab with a hop in his step. He was excited about the colorful friendship that had just started blooming. He even tried to stamp out the glaring envy he felt for Keith and the way he got to dance with that sweet, smart doll.

Thursday rolled around and Tim sat on the same barstool, waiting and waiting and waiting, worried that Keith and Holly had been pulling his leg. He started to think that they might not show and it’d all been an elaborate ruse.

“I haven’t seen you here all week.” Irv came out from the back of the bar, cleaning a shot glass. “You seemed to have a real blast with…” He waved his hand as he searched for the word. “Oh, what was her name?”

“Holly and Keith,” Tim replied. “They’re supposed to meet me here tonight.” He tried to sound calm, not allowing himself to get nervous.

“I don’t think you care much about Keith showing up.” Irv laughed.

Tim kept his expression serious. “Keith is a really funny, great guy.”

“But come on. Holly? You two had sparks the other night, talking about, oh, what’s that astrology nonsense?”

“The zodiac signs,” Tim replied. “I’m not that kind of guy, Irv. Keith seems pretty great, anyways.” He fell silent, content with his thoughts. Irv stepped off to do his work. The night seemed to be a bust until there was a sudden series of fast taps on Tim’s shoulder; he spun around to see Holly with big eyes and a sweet smile.

“Tim!” She excitedly hugged him. Keith smiled like a schmuck, picking Tim’s jacket off the barstool he’d been sitting at.

“Put your jacket on,” Keith boomed. “We’re heading to a barn shindig, right on the outside of town.”

“It’ll be a spin,” Holly sang, already starting out the door.

Tim pulled his jacket on, followed behind the two, and piled into a cab they’d called.

“So tell me, how is UM treatin’ ya?” Holly crossed her legs and snuggled under Keith’s arm.

“Everything’s aces. I’m looking forward to graduating.”

“What are you studying, again, Tim?”

“Mathematics,” he replied, a little embarrassed. He felt like a nerd around them. Keith was a communications major. Holly was still trying to find herself a college to attend. The three started talking about school and the future lives they imagined for themselves. They could have stayed in that cab all night, but alas, they didn’t. The three of them arrived at the party, fashionably late.

Keith exited the car, his arm nestled around Holly. “Let’s dance, doll.” He took her hand and gently spun her. Tim realized that he might have made a terrible mistake in coming. The two began dancing. Luckily, they took extra precaution to ensure that Tim wasn’t left out. Holly led him out, and he seemed to mesh in well with the other groups of students dancing around, weaving and bobbing their heads to Ritchie Valens’s wail.

Tim felt no pressure that night, the weight of school rolling off his back. It was odd how long he’d stayed cooped up in his dorm, studying in the daytime and then drinking at night. The barn filled with more and more people as the night went on. Tim met a couple dudes whose attitudes and egos seemed bigger than their oversized jawlines. He also met a couple of janes, all with voices higher than the heavens and a fondness for Tim’s knowledge of early 18th-century literature.

Toward the end of the night, Holly found him. “Tim, it’s been a blast! But I’ve gotta shimmy on out of here,” she shouted over the crowds of partiers.

Still grooving along to the beat, Tim replied, “I concur! This is the most fun I’ve had in months!” Tim chuckled at himself. He sounded like a homebody. Granted, he was a homebody.

“Well, I’m glad! We want to see you again! Meet at Fallon’s next Saturday?”

“I will see you then!” Tim called over the crowds of dancing fools, not aware that this would become his weekly routine.

Every Saturday, they’d meet up. Keith would constantly quip and make an ass of himself for a good laugh, and Holly would parade around in the latest fashions from hoop skirts to starched white button-ups. Her intelligence always kept her one step ahead of them, and her charm kept her miles above the rest of America’s supposed sweethearts. Tim was playing a dangerous game. He was not just in love with her; he was mystified by her.

*

“Did you tell her you loved her?” Ruby interrupted Tim’s eloquent flow.

“If you would let me finish, you would find out.” Tim kept his voice calm and ignored Ruby’s constant barrage of questions after that.

*

Keith lost his charm shortly after the third or fourth month of friendship. His jokes were now stale, and his formulaic way of telling stories was so predictable that Tim could spoil the punch line before Keith had a chance to utter it. Holly thought it was hilarious. Oddly enough, so did Keith. The only one who could feel the tension was Tim.

They were sitting at the Fallon Inn. Tim and Keith downed Coke and rum like it was the last night on Earth. Holly sat politely sipping on cider and spinning the ice cubes in Keith’s glass. The vocal level of the bar was through the roof, and Tim could barely make out what anyone was saying over the music. But, the boisterous environment did not stop Keith from demanding all of the attention.

“Keith,” Holly started. “Keith.” She paused, waiting for a response. But, Keith was too enthralled in telling Irv the story of the previous night’s football game to pay her any mind.

“I’ll listen.” Tim put on a smile and clinked glasses with Holly. He wanted to take Keith by his stupid letter jacket and slug him. “What’s going on? You look particularly glum tonight.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Her voice had a rich, smooth tone. “Just irritated.” She rolled her eyes back to Keith but followed her annoyance up with a laugh. “What’s on your mind, though? You’re awfully quiet lately. You haven’t gone to a bash with us in a couple weeks. Is something going on? Is there a girl?” Her voice filled with excitement.

“No.” Tim laughed it off. “There’s no girl.”

“Then what’s troubling you?” Holly looked at him with her brows furrowed and her dainty lips in a pout. They were beautiful, red lips that matched so perfectly with her soft white sweater.

“If anything is giving me trouble, it’s you.” Tim’s voice was muffled, nearly inaudible with the sound of all the college kids rushing to the center of the dance floor.

“What?” Holly replied unable to hear. She leaned in closer, resting a hand on Tim’s knee, “What did you say?”

“I said I loved you.” Tim’s voice shook, sounding broken. It was a shame that Holly didn’t hear him again.

*

“What?” Ruby replied, disgusted. “You didn’t repeat yourself after that?”

“I had done what I could.” Tim shrugged nonchalantly. “I told her I loved her, but she could not hear me over the loud music at the bar and her boyfriend’s god-awful laughter.”

“What happened after that?” Ruby egged him on.

“She asked what again, and I told her it was nothing and laughed. She seemed to think everything in the world was all right the second someone laughed,” Tim answered.

“And after that?” Ruby sounded distressed.

“She did dump him.” Tim nodded. “Only so much shit a girl that smart can put up with.”

“Did you make a move?” Ruby asked.

“Are you joking? You bet he did,” Rigan groaned.

*

She thought the world of him, but surprising as it sounded, there was only so much love and affection Tim could take. They lay in bed one night, Holly cuddled up in a nightie and Tim in boxers, gazing into each other’s eyes, smiling every couple seconds like two love-struck fools. She’d say something along the lines of “I’m so glad you’re not like him.” He’d say he loved her. At first, Tim didn’t mind.

Tim was just thankful to have her. He didn’t mind the occasional mention of Keith. He’d wrap her up in hugs when she had her back turned. She’d call him “such a gentleman.” He even surprised her with a carriage ride through Detroit one snowy winter night, but then they fought. What it was about didn’t matter. Whether Tim was in the right or not didn’t matter. As soon as the argument was over, Tim left without explanation.

They spoke a couple times after that, but Tim never provided Holly with closure. The love in his heart was snuffed out by the unattractiveness of confrontation. He’d gone from loving her to hating her in one brief flash.

*

“What?” Ruby groaned.

“Oh, my god, that’s such a Tim thing to do.” Rigan rolled his eyes and shifted his weight from one hip to the other. “I really should have seen that coming.”

“What a crappy love story!” Ruby scolded.

“Believe me, Rigan’s is worse.” Tim snorted.

“Stop.” Rigan got visibly tense at anyone’s mention of Isabelle.

“But, Tim, why?” Ruby was in ruins. “I just don’t understand.”

“Love should be effortless,” Tim answered. “I am not a man who fights like that. I am not a man who bends. I need a woman who can complement that.”

“You need a waif,” Rigan scoffed. “Nothing too complicated for Tim. He can’t handle it.”

“All love is complicated, Rigan.” Tim looked from Rigan to Ruby. “All love is complicated regardless of whether or not there is conflict.”

“So that’s it? You two never reconciled?” Ruby had her head rolled back and seemed ready to pull her hair in frustration.

“No.” He shrugged. “I am who I am. You think that story is bad, you should hear what happened when I went home one night this last September.”

“Oh, shut up,” Rigan snapped. “Boo-hoo. I’m all blue and gross. You love being trapped here. You can read day in and day out.”

“I’m sorry. Do you not think I miss electricity? Heated blankets? French fries?” Tim taunted. “Because believe me, I miss the whole lot of it.”

“Bet you miss women, too,” Rigan shot back, visibly proud of himself.

“I’m going to bring you the worst love story ever next week. I swear to it,” Ruby hissed.

“Until then.” Tim pointed down at his copy of The Bell Jar. He began to walk away but then called back to Ruby, “Don’t forget about the letter—a hundred miles, Ruby.”

“God, this is just like in the Philippines,” Rigan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re not going to believe the shit Tim pulled in the Philippines.”

Tim walked toward camp, his thoughts already wandering. He began guessing why certain choices were made for the cover of the book, the binding. It was a world he felt comfortable in, but his meditative walk was interrupted by two familiar faces.

“Is that Tim?” Da Vinci’s voice raised an octave as he hurried down the steep side of the bluff to catch up with his partner. “Tim! We didn’t miss her, did we?”

Diana was coming down from behind Da Vinci, moving to his side once she caught up.

“No, she and Rigan are down there. Rigan’s about to tell her about the Philippines.” Tim gave his halfhearted equivalent of an eye roll.

“Oh, maybe we should leave.” Da Vinci stood on his tiptoes to peek down the bluff. “Better to leave them alone.”

Diana laughed, deep in her throat. “I’m sure Rigan wouldn’t mind.” She ran her hand along Da Vinci’s shoulder. “I came in at the tail end of the Philippines story last time. I wouldn’t mind hearing how it begins.”

Da Vinci’s face lit up. He had on a pleasant smile. “Well, if that’s the case.” He started maneuvering down the bluff. Diana followed him, her hand in his.