The Great Escape (19 page)

Dee felt stunned, bewildered. 'But why? Why can't we go somewhere

else for a while? Why do we have to go back home?' She stared at

him, feeling that odd barrier from the morning, getting the strangest

feeling that he wasn't telling her something, but she still couldn't

pinpoint what it was. 'I don't understand.'

Mike straightened in his seat and stared out into the golden day. 'You

said to me not too long ago that what you needed most was time to

think, to decide what you were going to do. Have you made a

decision?'

She hesitated, feeling swamped with uncertainty, puzzlement and the

desire to tell him just how she really felt about him. But it was too

new to her, too early for that, and she was silent a moment. Then,

reluctantly, 'No, I haven't.'

His jaw hardened. 'Well, what I'm going to do is buy you that time

you need.' Silence, and he muttered something under his breath,

something quick and stern sounding, and very strange. Dee suspected

that he hadn't really meant her to hear it, but she had very good

hearing and she picked it up in spite of the softness with which it was

spoken. 'I'm going to buy you all the time in the world.'

And she couldn't understand its gist, just as she couldn't understand

the element of inexplicability to his behaviour, but since she had

forced the issue so far, she didn't want to ask him anything else just

yet.

He started the car again, pulled out into the barren stretch of highway

and silence reigned for a long, long time in the confines of the car.

And she sank back into her seat and puzzled at the many unexplained

and unexplainable mysteries in her life.

They stopped soon to stretch their legs and to get a cold drink, and by

then she had simply given up on her endless speculating and just

concentrated on each moment. Life had begun to take on an element

of unreality for her, for the events in the past four days had become

too much to handle. Her emotions had been yanked all out of whack,

and her whole schedule had been overturned, and now she had to

reconstruct something new for herself. She was quite afraid, because

she had settled into a comforting groove. She had known where she

would be staying the next week, and she had begun to make plans and

have hopes and dreams of the simple, every day sort: planning next

week's menu according to her budget; the television specials she had

looked forward to; whether she could afford that blue dress on display

that she'd been eyeing for several days. Now she didn't know what to

expect, or where she would next lay her head. It bewildered her so

much that she had to simply shut down and cope with only

non-essential, commonplace things.

It was strange, too, how she caught herself looking around for Mike

and making sure that he was near. She'd never really done that before

except when she had been a young child and had been too young to

explore without her parents. She found that she was trying to reassure

herself of his presence and support, and in a way this angered her, for

she had become quite proud of her self-sufficiency early in life. She

began to withdraw in little ways, and not in any particular way that he

would especially notice, but he gradually stopped making general

conversation as he sensed her silent mood.

Dee became increasingly grim as they neared the familiar,

once-loved area she knew so well, the spring air of northern Ohio

giving way to a more balmy warmth and greenery. She was conscious

of Mike's flickered, questioning glances, but was in no mood to tell

him of the strange feelings that were bombarding her. She felt that she

was travelling further and further into a strange darkness that invaded

her brain and hampered her thought processes. No matter where she

turned her head, she saw darkness, in spite of the fact that the sun was

benignly shining and the birds were blithely singing in chirrupy

spurts. And the darkness that she saw and felt was an unreasoning

dread. She was suddenly able to understand why her later memories

of Kentucky were dark and misted over with a heavy veil. It was a

cloud of remembered unhappiness.

She dozed fitfully, then she sank into a murky sleep that caught at her

blood and forced it to slug slowly through her veins, and someone

was really chasing her this time, and it wasn't Mike but an unknown

menacing stranger, and she tried to run and run, but she was so

hampered by her lifeless limbs that she couldn't get anywhere. 'I can't

move,' she whimpered, and jerked with fright as she felt a warm hand

descend on to her quaking shoulder, and she was caught, trapped,

mired down in mud. She knew a terrible sinking feeling as she

realised that she was caught for good. She would never get away or be

free again . . . 'Trapped! I'm trapped!' she sobbed dryly, and was

pulled into wakefulness by insistent hands.

Opening her eyes, she stared hugely up into Mike's concerned face.

Then awareness and reality hit her and she straightened with a groan.

They had pulled into a parking lot in the middle of an apartment

complex, stylish, modern, and well maintained. Shoving a quick,

slightly shaking hand through her hair, Dee muttered, not looking at

Mike, 'Sorry. I was having a bad dream.' One hand left, but he rubbed

at her collarbone with his other hand, thumb rotating gently.

'Are you sure you're all right?' His head was bent to her and he

suddenly seemed too near, so she sat forward and found her shoes.

She'd slipped them off earlier, and one was stuck under the car seat.

'I'm fine. It was a foolish dream, but then dreams always seem that

way when you're awake and out of them.' She sent a slanting, wry

glance up at him, a twisted smile on her lips. 'But when you're caught

in them, they're as real as the edge of a knife that can slip and prick

you if you aren't careful ... I always thought that getting stuck in a

nasty, sticky mud would be horrible, and I always dream of it, or

getting caught and mired down some way. Filthy thought!'

Her shoes slipped on, she straightened and looked about her with

interest, then sent a questioning gaze to the still figure beside her.

He smiled at her, easily, but the hand that had stayed on her shoulder

tightened as if he had felt the keen edge of the knife she had

described. Then he was pointing out a group of windows that was his

apartment, warning her that since he hadn't been back for a while, the

place would be a mess.

Dee's mood lightened and she laughed at him as they struggled to get

everything from the car into the building. He had been quite right: the

place was a wreck, with an unlived-in air about the rooms and a layer

of dust that was settled on the furniture not covered up, and a few

boxes lying around, stacked to the brim with things that he swore he'd

stored. She teased him unmercifully as they set about cleaning up the

roomy place. The furniture was good, she discovered, and the few

ornaments around were tasteful and both looked and felt expensive.

She admired Mike's huge record collection as he dusted off cabinets,

and peered at all his books with approval and interest. He had

disappeared to the bedrooms to make them up and to check the

kitchen and heating.

After tidying up the place, they set off to buy groceries, and in spite of

Dee's voiceless apprehensions and darkening perspective, they had an

uproarious time, skating a shopping cart dangerously through the

aisles and making each other laugh helplessly. Dee ran into an older

woman's cart and was treated with a hostile, disapproving stare, and

Mike accidentally knocked over a stack of cereal boxes when she

startled him by zooming around a corner unexpectedly.

Back at the apartment, they put away the food companionably, and

she asked him curiously, 'Whatever are you going to do about Judith

and Howard? You called them and told them you were coming back

with me. What will happen when you don't show up with me, as

promised?'

Mike bent and stuck his head into the refrigerator as he arranged the

perishables neatly on the shelves. 'I called them later and told them

that you'd gotten away, and that there would be a delay while I

located you again.' The words echoed oddly in the small confines of

the humming cubicle, and he backed out to shut it finally, only then

glancing at her still body.

Dee asked quietly, feeling strange, 'When did you do that?'

He smiled at her cheerfully. 'When you were in the bathroom taking a

shower this morning. It ought to give us both a lot of time to think,

don't you agree? They're well aware of how slippery a fish you can

be, when you choose to get away.'

She nodded, absently, her eyes vaguely puzzled, and the sudden

descent of his hand on her bottom jerked her out of her thoughts with

a small shriek. 'What was that for?' she exclaimed indignantly, trying

in vain to slap him back.

He laughed down in her face, it was to get you started on my supper,

slave,' he growled, and she made a rebellious face.

'I don't make suppers, or do windows, or clean bathrooms, or wash

dishes . . .' she ticked off the items on her fingers, haughtily. Mike

looked extremely indignant.

'And to think I spent all that money on a worthless slave! What in the

world
do
you do?'

The peep she gave him from under her lashes was quite

mischievously provocative. 'I could become quite a good massuese,'

she replied, contemplatively, and he immediately appeared appeased.

'Well then,
that's
all right. But how are we going to live?'

She twinkled at him, 'T.V. dinners?' and had to laugh at his

involuntary groan. Then she became brisk. 'No, no, I'll fix us

something to eat, since you drove all day! Go on, get out, get out!

Relax in the living room, for heaven's sake!' She shooed him out and

he left, only after giving her a laughing, tickling, hard kiss to which

she responded gladly.

She spent a busy hour in the kitchen, clanging pans around cheerfully,

having successfully shaken her dark mood from earlier. She whisked

around, setting the table for two and washing up the dirty dishes as

she went, and eventually she went into the living room to fetch Mike

to the table. Walking softly on her toes in a natural, athlete's walk that

proclaimed her to the knowledgeable as a sprinter, she moved swiftly

into the other room.

As she entered it, she slowed and stared through the semi-darkness of

the curtained room at the slumped form on the couch, and stopped

silently to stare at Mike, concerned. He had his head in both hands,

his fingers tangled in what could only be an attitude of grief, or

sadness. Dee looked at his hands, remembering fleetingly, with

tenderness, how her hands had tangled in his hair in almost the exact

same way—was it only this morning? 'Mike?' It came out soft. 'Are

you okay?'

His head jerked up at her voice, and he was off of the couch and

walking her way, normal, casual. 'Of course. I'm about ready to chew

on the furniture, I'm so hungry,' he teased, grinning at her.

She didn't return the smile, her eyes troubled. 'Are you sure nothing's

bothering you?' The change in him was astounding; one moment he

appeared to be extremely depressed, and the next he was so

completely normal that she sensed even more strongly that something

was wrong.

'Not-'a blessed thing,' he said cheerfully, then he rubbed at his eyes

with thumb and forefinger. 'I think I did too much driving lately, and

my eyes are bothering me, but other than that and the fact that I might

die in the next few minutes from starvation—why, I'm just fine.'

Her eyes slowly crinkled at him and she had to chuckle. 'All right, I

get your drift! Come on, it's ready and waiting for you.'

Throughout that evening, as they watched television and played

checkers, Mike was indeed so ordinary and calm, and quite cheerful,

that she gradually began to believe that what she had seen earlier had

been mostly her imagination. She enjoyed herself that evening, more

than she had for a long time. He could make her laugh hysterically

with his keen, dry wit and humorous, biting comments, and he could

force her to concentrate more than anyone else could, driving her

mind to quicker and keener decisions. He forced her to make snap

decisions at the checker board, and she blundered terribly on the first

game, flustered by his demands. But the second win came a bit harder

for him, for she was beginning to meet his demands, and she had