crackers, in the poor man’s
lap. She heard him unlatch his seatbelt and then the sound of his
door opening.
And she knew that he’d decided that walking
back to the bus station was preferable to sitting in the car with a
crazy pregnant woman. It was what she wanted, right? How could it
hurt so much?
There was a soft knock on her window. He
stood there, waiting. She reached for her purse. Of course, she’d
owed him for his time this morning. He probably needed it for bus
fare. She pulled out forty dollars, opened her door, and handed it
to him. “Good luck,” she said and meant it. None of this was his
fault.
He ignored her hand and the money in it.
“Take my seat,” he said.
“What?”
“You’re in no shape to operate this car. I’ll
take us the rest of the way.”
“You’re staying?”
“I gave you my word.” He motioned with his
hand for her to get out. “Please.”
Feeling numb, she got out and walked around
the car. By the time she got in, he was already behind the wheel,
with his seatbelt buckled. He waited until she buckled her own belt
before he pressed his foot to the gas.
The engine of the car raced.
A dull red crept up the man’s neck.
“It helps if you put it in Drive,” she
said.
He stared at her blankly. She pointed to the
console between them. He grabbed the lever and moved it to drive.
They took off with a jerk and she was glad she was strapped in.
“You don’t drive much, huh?” she asked.
“Not much,” he said. His hands were wrapped
tight around the wheel and he sat too far forward on his seat to be
comfortable. He had, however, managed to even out the pace and now
they drove a sedate twenty-five miles an hour down a road that most
people took at sixty. She looked behind them and was relieved to
see that they were the only car on the road.
The man probably rode mass transit every day.
Many of her friends in the city didn’t even have cars. “George, I
guess I should know what you do for a living,” she said. “Since
we’re married,” she added lamely.
He drove for another minute. “I used to be a
sheriff,” he said. He said it simply, proudly.
“But not anymore?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No.”
She wanted all the details but knew she
didn’t have the right to ask. He’d probably had a desk job and
ultimately became a victim of the bottom line. Every community in
the country was cutting back on their public services. No wonder
the man looked down and out.
“When this little charade is over,” she said,
“I’d be happy to help you find something. I’ve helped people with
job searches before.”
He nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Turn at the next right,” she said, directing
him to the road that would take them out of the valley and up into
the hillside. He took the turn, which was sharp, without braking.
She grabbed the handle of the door, just as he had done for the
entire morning, and hung on.
She didn’t want to be bossy but she’d been
driving this road since she was sixteen. “This gets pretty curvy
and narrow in spots,” she warned. When he gave her a quick glance,
she made a point to look toward his feet and added, “Gives the
brakes a good workout.”
They almost jerked to a complete stop at the
next turn. She felt like she was back in driver’s ed. She’d been
partnered with Judy Barnitski, who’d never really ever gotten the
hang of the brakes either.
“They can be a little touchy,” she said, not
wanting him to feel bad. He didn’t answer and she braced herself
for the next curve.
It went remarkably well. She didn’t let go of
the door handle but she did start to breathe again. He was clearly
a faster learner than skinny Judy had been.
“What name did you call your husband by?” he
asked, after they’d negotiated two more turns successfully.
It was nice of him to sort of pretend that
there had been a husband. “Michael Johnson. I wanted something very
common so that if someone tried to Google