Comedy of Erinn (10 page)

Jude turned around so that he was facing her. Their eyes met.

“The camera case,” she said.

Jude ignored her and tried to lift her off the seat belt, but there was no way around the console.

“Shit! Crap!” Jude said.

“Jude . . . there's a knife . . . ,” Erinn croaked.

“. . . in the camera case!” he said.

Erinn could hear him scramble to the back of the SUV and unlock the camera case. She was reminded of sounds one hears when one is drifting off to sleep. Every noise sounds strangely amplified—and yet the sound is of no interest. She had the vague sensation of falling and, when her head cleared, she was lying on Jude, up against the passenger window. Jude was panting for breath, knife held aloft. She could hear the slit seat belt clanking behind her.

She reached around Jude's neck. His expression changed, softening. She touched the passenger window behind his head.

“Thank God it's not broken.”

“Lady, I have a knife.”

Erinn was suddenly very aware that she was pressed up against Jude. She tried to lift herself off him, but each time she thudded back against him.

“Hold on, Rocket, before somebody gets hurt,” Jude said, releasing the knife.

He tried to help her get some sort of footing, but no luck. Try as she might, she could not help but be aware of the rock-solid abs underneath her as she braced her hands against them, pushing off again and again. Every time she was even remotely aloft, she would crash back down against Jude, who would let out a painful-sounding “oooph.”

Finally, she managed to grab hold of the headrest and pull herself off Jude. She hugged the headrest and tried to feel her way around him, trying not to kick him in the . . . Erinn shook the image out of her head, editing herself. She tried not to kick him as she squirmed upright. By the time she was safely off him, she had somehow pulled herself into the backseat. Well, she thought, more accurately, she had pulled herself onto the back window. As her body brushed by Jude on her journey into the back, she tried to keep her butt, breasts, and gut out of his face. She thought fleetingly of meeting him for the first time and his comment about her “spare tire.” It didn't really bother her, she told herself, but she did find it interesting that she should remember that at this particular time.

Jude looked into the backseat. He leaned his elbows on the console and was breathing heavily from the exertion of freeing her.

“Thank you,” Erinn said.

Jude just held up his hand in a gesture that could have meant anything from “That's fine” to “Never speak to me again.”

Erinn scanned the back of the SUV and saw that Jude had carelessly flung her expensive camera aside while looking for the knife. The camera hung upside down, dangling from its strap.
It must have gotten caught on a clothes hook,
she thought, freeing it and cradling it gently. She was annoyed with Jude for manhandling the camera but decided to keep her own counsel on this. He had, after all, just saved her life. She picked up the camera and turned it on. She held her breath, waiting for the red light to glow. It did.
Thank God it still works,
she thought.

“Erinn, you need to call AAA or the police and have somebody come get us. It's not going to get any warmer, and it'll be getting dark in a few hours,” Jude said.

Erinn turned off the camera and started fishing around in her pockets for her cell phone. She tried hard not to panic as she patted a tissue, a mint, and a few bobby pins—nothing remotely resembling a phone. It must have fallen out when the vehicle rolled.

Erinn climbed back to the front seat and started searching. Jude, without asking, divined what the situation was, and started feeling around by his feet.

“Here it is,” he said, picking up the phone, which was sitting between his feet on the passenger window. Erinn held out her hand for the phone, but Jude was looking at it with a furrowed brow. He started jabbing at it.

“Jesus Christ, Erinn. Your phone is dead.”

Why did these kids insist that phones were “dead,” as if they were beloved pets? A little charge and the phone would be as good as new. So it wasn't “dead” on any level—no matter what your philosophy of life or death. Not even reincarnation. She was about to bring this up, but thought better of it, considering Jude's foul mood.

“I'm not used to cell phones. I forgot to charge it last night. Which is actually pretty amusing, since I charged all the batteries for the camera!”

“Well, plug in your car charger. We can't be out here with no phone.”

“I don't have a car charger.”

“Oh, this is great.”

“Well, we can use your cell phone.”

“I don't have it with me.”

“Why not?”

“It's in my room. My plan for the morning was to hang out with the guys in the lobby until we could head out to a gym.”

Erinn took a deep breath.

“Well, there's only one thing to do,” she said.

“Which is?” Jude asked.

“Grab some shots while we're here.”

“Are you nuts?”

“What are we going to do, Jude? Sit here and hate each other?”

“Hate
each other
?” he said. “You have no reason to hate me. I just saved your sorry ass.”

“If you look throughout history, you will find that
hate
and
no reason
make very companionable bedfellows,” Erinn said. “Now help me get this door open so I can get to work.”

Erinn and Jude both pushed at the driver's side door over their heads. It creaked open like a hatch and Erinn climbed out with a little shove from Jude. She gave Jude the camera. It took all her strength to hold the door open far enough to squeeze out. Jude handed her the camera and hopped out after her.

Erinn looked around at Valley Forge as the snow continued to fall around them. The wind was still blowing, but lightly, and the snow drifted silently over the fields. There were probably telephone poles, or street signs, or cars, or other signs of modern life in front of them, but under the gossamer white blanket, it just looked peaceful and unchanged by time.

“This must have been what it looked like during the Revolution,” Jude said.

Erinn shrugged, and turned on her camera.

“Not really,” she said. “All those footprints, and horses, and garbage . . . it would have been hideous. The snow would have been gray or brown almost as soon as it hit the ground. But for television, this couldn't be better.”

Jude suddenly reached in front of her and pushed a button on the camera. She looked up.

“Just making sure the camera microphone is on. I want witnesses for how annoying you are,” Jude said.

He trudged off a few feet while Erinn continued to pan the horizon slowly. She turned back and caught Jude in her viewfinder. The snow and fog made him look shadowy and a bit ethereal. Erinn's pulse quickened when she realized you couldn't tell if this was a modern man walking though Valley Forge or a soldier or a ghost. She continued to shoot happily.
I'm probably going to win a Tony for this footage,
she thought.
Or whatever might be the TV equivalent.

A
lthough it appeared to be totally silent as Erinn created snowy vignettes with her lens, there
was
sound. The wind whispered. The snow actually sounded as if it were breathing as it drifted, hissing softly, across the fields. Erinn stopped shooting long enough to dip her nose into her scarf—it was getting really cold. When she returned her eye to the viewfinder, she heard a click—the camera had shut itself off. Panicking, Erinn unbuttoned her coat and thrust the bulky camera inside, trying to warm it up. She couldn't see Jude in the whiteness, but knew he was out there somewhere.

“The camera is frozen,” she said.

“Join the frickin' club!” came a disembodied voice, unmistakably Jude's.

“I have some weather protection for the camera. It's in the car. You'll have to help me get it out.”

Erinn, trying to keep her balance, headed toward the snow-covered mound that was their SUV. She was ungainly walking through the ice and snow while trying to protect the camera, but she held onto it for dear life. The last thing they needed was for her to drop the camera. As if reading her mind, Jude was suddenly beside her, steadying her.

They reached the Explorer. They blinked morosely at the undercarriage, which, even in the snow, stared back at them at eye level. Erinn stared at it, trying to decide how best to get back inside. Should she scramble up the tires? And even if she managed to hoist herself onto the side of the car that was pointing toward the sky, how could she pry open the door? Should she stand behind the door and pull—or in front of the door and try to push it?

“You'll have to jump up there and open the door,” Erinn said. “The weather gear is in the camera case.”

To Erinn's relief, Jude effortlessly pulled himself up on the SUV's side. He squatted in front of the door and reached down. It seemed he had opted for the “pulling the door” move. Erinn shivered. The snow and wind were picking up again. She cradled the camera inside her jacket.

“The door is locked!” Jude yelled down to her. “Throw me the keys.”

Erinn patted her pocket. No keys. She patted another pocket. No keys. She started to feel dizzy.

“Look in the car,” she yelled up to Jude. “Maybe I left them inside.”

“You did,” said Jude. “I can see them.”

Erinn leaned her head against the left front tire. She was startled when Jude suddenly jumped down beside her.

“The car locked itself, dude,” he said. “I mean, we talked about this! How could you let this happen?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! You were driving.”

“Well, thanks for the support,
partner
.”

“I can't believe this. God knows what would have happened to you if I hadn't come out here with you
.
You'd still be hanging by your seat belt,
partner
.”

Erinn stared at Jude.

“I . . . I . . . I guess I am responsible for this,” she said. “I haven't done one thing right. And we haven't even started shooting yet. When we get back, you should call Cary and have me fired.”

“
If
we get back.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Look around you! We're in the middle of nowhere, without a phone, and we're locked out of a car that's lying on its side. We're fucked, Erinn—seriously fucked.”

Erinn could feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes, and she looked at the sky, trying to blink them away.

“Christ. You're not going to cry, are you?” asked Jude.

Erinn took umbrage. She was not the crying type. Jude surely realized this.

“No,” she said. “I don't cry.”

“Good. Because I hate it when girls cry.”

“I'm a woman . . . not a girl,” Erinn said. And burst into tears.

“OK, OK. Woman. I got it. Please don't cry. Your tears might freeze and then you'd really be screwed.”

Erinn tried to shore herself up. She took a few deep breaths, which was difficult. The wind was so cold it froze her lungs.

“I'm OK. I'm sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, Tin Lizzy. We're cool. We'll think of something,” Jude said, then put out his hand. “Give me the camera.”

Erinn tightened her grip on her prized possession.

“What for?” she asked.

“I'm going to have to throw it through the window, so we can get back inside.”

Erinn looked at Jude as if he'd lost his mind.

“Throw something else through the window,” she said.

Jude looked around, spreading his arms to take in the vast whiteness all around them.

“Like what?”

“Like yourself. Just stomp on the window. Surely it will break eventually.”

“Try again.”

Erinn frantically looked around. There was nothing.

“Erinn, give me the camera. We've got to get into that car or we're going to die out here.”

“If we smash the window, it really won't be much shelter,” she said.

“Better than nothing. Seriously, Erinn,” Jude said. “Don't make me wrestle that camera from you.”

Erinn held tight to the camera. There had to be another option. She looked at Jude. Instinct kicked in and she sprinted away from him as fast as she could. Jude set out after her. Erinn was surprised at her pace. She wasn't sure if it was fear of losing her camera that kept her several paces ahead of Jude or the fact that lugging gear all this time had really toned her. Whatever the reason, she managed to stay ahead of him. She shot a quick glance behind her and stopped in her tracks.

Jude was gone! She looked to the right and left. Where was he?

Still hugging the camera, she squinted. The snow had fallen so thickly, she couldn't even see the outline of the beached Explorer. She cursed under her breath. Now she appeared to be stranded—and lost!

She listened. All she could hear was her pulse pounding in her ears. She took another step forward, but found herself suddenly facedown in the snow. Something enormous seemed to have fallen on her. A tree branch broken from the crushing weight of the snow? No, she thought, it couldn't be a branch, because it was fighting her. She realized that Jude had somehow jumped her. She was facing him and he was straddling her, trying to pull the camera from her grasp.

Holding tightly to the camera with one hand, she batted at him with the other.

“Stop it! Stop it! You can't throw this through the window. You can't!”

“Damn it, Erinn, give it up.”

“You'll have to kill me first!”

Jude, straddling her, stopped fighting. Breathing heavily, he got up.

“I can't believe you,” he said, panting. “You care more about that damn camera than you do about your life. Or mine.”

Erinn sat up in the snow.

“Jude, I'm sorry. When you put it that way . . .”

She stood up and put a hand on Jude's shoulder. He turned and looked at her. Erinn thought that he looked very handsome with the snow clinging to the stubble of his chin. Shaking the thought from her mind, Erinn smiled weakly at him, trying to convey how very sorry she was for getting them into this terrible, terrible mess. Erinn opened her coat, and pulled out the camera. She held it out to him, trying to hide the resignation in her eyes.

Two hundred and thirty-two years later . . .
this
will be the defeat at Valley Forge
.

Jude reached out his hand and Erinn put the camera in it, eyes closed, throat constricting. She felt the weight of the camera transfer from her hand to his.

“Psych!” Jude laughed, holding the camera aloft and running away from her.

He taunted her, running backward. Erinn opened her eyes and raced after him.

“Give me that camera!”

“You are such a loser! I can't believe I psyched out the great Erinn Elizabeth Wolf.”

Jude continued to run lightly backward, teasing her. She ran on determinedly. She noticed that Jude had put the camera under his jacket, so at least it was safe and warm for the time being. She called out to him—

“Jude, look behind you!”

“Is there something big and scary behind me? Come on! You can do better than that!”

Erinn closed her eyes, and Jude, trotting backward, ran into something large and scary. He collapsed under an avalanche of snow. Erinn struggled toward him and started digging. Jude popped up, gasping for air.

Erinn launched herself on top of him without a word. She was getting that camera back if it was the last thing she did. And considering that the sun was going down and it was still snowing . . . it just might be. Jude fought his way out of the snow and easily blocked Erinn's flailing. He pulled the camera from his jacket and examined it.

“Just chill a second,” he said to Erinn, sitting cross-legged in the snow. “Let me see if there's any damage to this thing.”

Erinn stopped her feeble attack. She watched as Jude expertly manipulated the camera. He looked at her.

“I can't tell. It's still frozen.”

He handed it back to Erinn, who cradled it under her coat. She stood up and looked around. The snow kept coming. She walked a few feet from Jude, scanning the horizon. There was no sign of the car. It lay buried deep in the snow somewhere. With all the running around she and Jude had done, she wasn't even sure which direction the car was in.

“Won't it suck if we like . . . you know . . . die . . . at Valley Forge?”

“Well, yes. But as they say, ‘A good death does honor to a whole life.' ”

“I don't think freezing to death after wrestling in the snow qualifies as a good death. I think it qualifies as a really stupid death. Got any quotes about really stupid deaths?”

Erinn turned around to face him. Why was he so hostile? Weren't they in this together?

“The trouble with quotes about death is that ninety-nine point nine hundred and ninety-nine percent of them are made by people who are still alive.”

Jude looked at her in surprise. He smiled.

“That's hilarious, Erinn. That should be in
Bartlett's Quotations
.”

“It is. Joshua Bruns said it,” Erinn told him. “But if he didn't, I would have.”

Jude stood up. He stepped purposely through the snow that had fallen on him. Erinn narrowed her eyes as she tried to focus and strained to see through the blizzard. She couldn't tell what it was at first, because it had been covered in snow. She wasn't sure, but she thought she knew what had caused the avalanche.

Her stomach flipped. She walked casually toward Jude, careful not to arouse his suspicions. She didn't want to hear about this if she was wrong. She walked very carefully, passing Jude as she went. He turned, confused, as he watched her make her way past him. Erinn reached her destination and clawed at the snow. She stopped and held her breath. She turned to Jude.“It's a cabin!” she said.

Somehow, they had stumbled upon one of the historic log cabins that dotted the Valley Forge Park.