That afternoon he had made up his mind. Through the setting hours, Jack planned out the details in his head. He found a small container in the cabin that he filled with water from the pump. His only reservation was that it would not be cold by the time they would drink it. At dinner, he tucked some food away from the table when, though out of character, he offered to clean up. A prisoner hoarding his rations. Boots had said that the front door was wide open to him, but he was convinced the old man wouldn’t lay out provisions for them, nor would he take kindly to Jack stealing his supplies for their trip.
In the bedroom as they prepared for sleep, he told Laura of his design. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Is Boots taking us out?”
“No.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we are leaving, on our own.”
“No, Jack, we’re not.”
“I’m not staying here another day. We need to get out of here. We need to get home.”
“You have no idea how to get out of here.”
“Easy, we open the door and walk east.”
Laura folded her arms and stood next to the wall, facing Jack. Her anger was beginning to rise. “No, Jack. We wait here until Boots thinks we can make the walk. He knows what’s best for us right now.”
“He doesn’t know squat, Laura! Listen to yourself! We are stuck in a trailer in the desert with a bearded half-wit who chews tobacco like it’s bubble gum and can’t speak a decent sentence to save his life. Then he finds a girl who was kidnapped by some crazy local and stuck in a cave. Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . . and let’s not forget that he runs out into storms and yells at the wind. I mean, come on! You can’t make this stuff up. It’s like an episode of the Twilight Zone or something! And you just want to stand there and wait for him to magically take us home?” Jack’s sarcasm was flowing full force at Laura.
“Jack, you need to stop right now.”
“I won’t stop. We are leaving.”
“Don’t say ‘we.’”
Jack stood silent, the wind knocked out of him. Laura, the passive wife, standing up to him, was new. He stared at her, a person who was now foreign to him with just one stroke of a brush.
“I’m not leaving. If Boots says we can leave tomorrow, then I’ll go, but until then, I am waiting here until he says so.”
He remained silent and walked out of the room.
She could hear him open the door and step outside, though there was no place for him to go.
Laura got into bed and lay there, thinking about the vacuum of space between her and Jack. This trip that was planned to bridge the gap may have broken them for good. They were alienated from each other like no other time in their history. She pulled the covers over her though it was hot, and cried silently in the dark.
Jack entered the room awhile later and crawled into bed next to her, but they did not touch. A force field surrounded her and was impenetrable. The silence was suffocating, and with a gentle breath, he whispered, “I love you.”
She played at being asleep and did not respond to his unspoken question.