32
It was decided that Earl would go to court to pay the fine; then—assuming he was given the all-clear—Hutch would go with Earl to the impound yard to reclaim Pollux. The rest of them would pack up their campsite and relocate to an agreed-upon location outside the city. Earl suggested an empty field they’d discovered outside the town of Petaluma. They had performed there earlier during the summer, and it had seemed to have no owner to claim it, so it would make for the perfect place to camp while awaiting Earl and Hutch’s triumphant arrival.
“You’ll need a head start,” Earl surmised. “The five of you”—meaning Cleo, Ava, Buzz, Louis, and Harry—“should go on ahead, and once we have the Stearman back, Hutch and I can zip right on up to join you.”
It seemed reasonable. Ava was nervous. She could tell Louis wasn’t happy about any of it. But then . . . what choice did any of them have? Earl’s way appeared to be the only way.
So the group did as Earl said: They set off, while Hutch and Earl stayed back.
“With any luck, we’ll be along in two days,” Earl assured them. He kissed Ava’s mother on the cheek with a terrible, loud smack. “We’ll come swooping in like a bird, my love, to save the day!”
They said a temporary good-bye to Earl and Hutch and headed north again, recrossing the majestic Golden Gate and puttering along the hilly highways in the direction of Petaluma. Soon enough, they found their way back to the empty field Earl had named. Its familiar features welcomed them, and they set about making camp.
“Don’t worry too much about setting up the campsite,” Cleo advised everyone in a bright tone. “Why, if all goes well, Earl and Hutch might be here as soon as tomorrow morning! We’ll want to push on as soon as they join up, so don’t unpack anything you don’t want to pack back up!”
The next day came and went without ceremony, and there was no sign of the Stearman, Hutch, or Earl.
“I’m sure they’re just finagling the details,” Buzz said, patting Cleo’s hand. He sounded optimistic, but not entirely convinced. Ava raised an eyebrow at him, but Buzz was impervious. “They’ll be here soon.”
Another day passed with no sign of the plane or either man. And another, and yet still another.
“Do you think we’ve camped in the wrong field, and they don’t know where to find us?” Cleo asked, anxious.
Ava wanted to say, Perhaps, but the lie got stuck in her throat.
Finally, five days and four nights into their stay outside of Petaluma, Ava glimpsed a figure steadily making its way along the dirt road toward them. When she recognized the familiar cowboy amble, she cried out.
“Hutch!” she cried. “Everyone! Hutch is here!”
The awaiting group popped their heads up like a pack of curious prairie dogs, then dropped what they were each in the middle of doing and made their way toward Hutch as he approached.
Excited, Ava threw down the book she had been reading and stumbled to her feet. She was compelled to break into a trot, but before she could, a second thought overcame her, sobering her up. She surveyed the camp and saw Louis experience the same halt and hesitation. What was Hutch doing there alone, on foot?
“Oh, no . . .” Ava murmured. “No . . . he wouldn’t have . . .”
At the same time, a voice within her said, Yes. He would.
She cast a quick look around and saw Louis, also halting in his step, also plainly thinking what Ava was thinking. They locked eyes. A wave of mutual understanding passed between them. Everyone else had run on ahead. Ava and Louis brought up the rear. They walked side by side, close together. For the briefest of seconds, Ava felt Louis take her hand, and she gave it a heart-sickened squeeze.
“Got lucky—most of the time—tryin’ to hitch my way up here,” Hutch said once they had gotten him water, two eggs, and a crust of bread. “But that last stretch, I had to walk the whole way . . . I know all o’ you been waitin’ . . . Must’ve been somethin’ awful, all that waitin’ and wonderin’ . . .”
Cleo bustled about, coping with her worried, distraught feelings by keeping busy. She automatically struck up a fire and hung a pot of coffee over the flames out of a mixture of instinct and habit. When it was ready, Hutch accepted a cup gratefully.
“Thank you,” he said. He took a deep sip and surveyed the faces all around him with apologetic caution. “You might want to find a nip of something stronger yourselves for what I’m about to tell ya.”
“Just tell it to us straight,” Louis demanded. “What happened with Earl? Where is he?”
“Well . . .” Hutch snorted. “Where is he? That’s an awful good question.”
Ava shook her head, knowing and incredulous all at the same time. “You mean you don’t know? At all?”
Hutch shrugged. “He went off to pay that fine at the court, just like he said. Wanted to go alone, he said. I thought that was all right. But then a few hours went by and he never come back. More hours later and the sun went down and I ain’t never heard a peep from him. I got to wonderin’. Well”—Hutch paused and sighed, the wind in his chest rattling like a tired animal—“the next morning, still nothing. And the same for the afternoon. So I decided to start looking for him. I asked around, ‘Where would a man go who has gotten this kinda citation and where would he pay his fine? Blah, blah, blah . . .’ And, well, it turns out, the answer was . . . nowhere.”
“Nowhere?” Harry repeated, his eyebrows raised in scrutiny.
“Nowhere,” Hutch confirmed, nodding. “At least, that’s where Earl went. I played detective a little, following Earl’s footsteps around the city as best I could. Why, his citation was with the Department of Commerce; from all I could find out, it shoulda been a simple bureaucratic matter. But turns out there was a bigger problem keeping the Stearman in the impound. The more I dug around, I found the reason he couldn’t get it out is on account of how he’s been borrowing from the banks against that plane—against both the biplanes, as a matter of fact—even the one he ain’t got no more, an’ he started borrowin’ almost from the first day the deed got transferred to his name. His version of what was happening with the Stearman was a lie. He weren’t ever going to be able to get that plane outta the impound, not ever, not with all that money he owed. The Stearman ain’t even in San Francisco no more: It’s been moved to Sacramento, nearest the banks where he borrowed the most money, and from what I can tell, ain’t no way anybody gonna give that plane back to Earl at any price.” Hutch paused, and considered. “He got up that morning and said he was goin’ to court, but he never done anything of the sort . . .”
The group around Hutch could not have been more wide-eyed if they had been a herd of deer surprised by the headlamps of a large truck.
“Well, then,” Ava said, her voice trembling with anger, “tell us where you think Earl did go. It’s perfectly obvious he’s run off with the money, but do you have any clue at all where he might be?”
“None,” Hutch said, his voice sorrowful. “But I got to pestering the folks at the records offices, and I’ll tell ya what I found out about where he’s been . . .”
They all listened as Hutch began to unravel the many aliases of the man they had known as Earl Shaw. It turned out he’d changed both his profession and his name a number of times over the years. “Earl Sherman” had long ago been a schoolteacher in a small town outside Madison, Wisconsin, but had been run out of town when it was discovered he’d been skimming off the school treasury. A very different Earl—“Earl Starelli”—had later surfaced in Chicago, where with his newly cultivated moustache he made a living as a door-to-door salesman for a life insurance company. There, too, Earl ran into some trouble when he was accused of selling policies he later never filed and pocketing the money. Earl’s trail went cold for some time after that, but many years later grew hot again when Earl took the trouble to put in for a legal change of name and finally became “Earl Shaw.” He had migrated a great distance from his Midwest origins by that point—all the way to New Mexico, Arizona, and California—and had joined a traveling carnival as a tonic salesman.
“I reckon you know the rest,” Hutch said, throwing an apologetic grimace in Cleo’s direction. Ava turned to regard her mother. Cleo looked shaken and slightly pale . . . but, Ava noted, not surprised.
“I reckon we better go start lookin’ for work elsewhere,” Buzz said.
Hutch nodded. “Considering Earl not only left us with no airplane, an’ made off with nearly everything we had, we shoulda started lookin’ for other work weeks ago.”
“Will you . . . be all right?” Buzz asked Cleo.
She attempted a weak smile.
“We’ll find a way.”
“What about you two? Eagle? Crane?” Buzz asked Louis and Harry.
Harry looked thoughtful. “I suppose we’ll go back home,” he said.
Louis said nothing. His expression had not changed since Hutch came ambling along the dirt road to find them and give them the news. Now, as the group’s attention fell more directly on him, Ava noticed his temples and jaw flexing and realized he was livid.
“Louis?” Harry prodded, seemingly oblivious to Louis’s quiet fury. “I guess we’ll go back home, won’t we?”
Louis glared at Harry, and Ava got the distinct feeling that Louis was about to punch Harry in the nose. Suddenly, as though to subvert the impulse, he stood up and began storming off across the field. By now dusk had fallen, and Ava watched his shape disappearing into the waning light. She got up to hurry after him but realized she wasn’t alone: Harry was alongside her, both of them intent on chasing Louis down.
Feeling the two of them close on his heels, Louis whirled around.
“You! I shouldn’ta listened to you,” he said, spitting his words at Harry. “It ain’t like you even needed that money; plenty more where that came from, as far as you’re concerned. And if there ain’t enough o’ what you need, you’ll just steal it from a neighbor, I suppose!” Louis turned away and his voice dropped to a mutter. Ava thought she could make out “Just like the rest o’ your back-stabbin’ kind . . .” Alarmed, Ava glanced at Harry, but Harry didn’t say anything.
“Louis,” Ava said, “it’s not Harry’s fault this happened.”
But Louis was already stalking away again. This time Harry and Ava let him go and didn’t follow.
The next morning they woke up to find Louis had packed up his belongings and left for good.