Multiples of Six (15 page)

“What envelope?” Doug said.

“Your parents must have it,” James said.

“It’s an envelope they were sent. My envelope led to you. Yours…I can only assume, leads to someone else…brother number four?”

“Four?” Kevin said.

“That can’t be,” Doug said.

“It’s fucked up,” James said, “But, there you have it.”

“What do you say, Doug?” Kevin asked.

Doug stared into his lap for a moment, then looked out the front window at nothing in particular.

“I don’t want you to think I’m more than I am. I was a football hero, but it sort of ended there,” he said, quietly. “I’d been drinking the night of the accident. It was sort of a…celebration party a bunch of my buddies threw. They knew I was headed off to State that fall. I had a handful of beers and figured I was ok to drive. My blood alcohol level wasn’t over the limit, but I was tired and…well, I fell asleep. At the scene, everyone knew who I was. The cops, the EMTs, even the doctors at the hospital. They’d all heard about me and most had watched the state championship game on TV. They didn’t charge me. I was a local hero, and they weren’t about to have their golden boy tarnished by a stupid mistake. After all, I had only hurt myself, right? I told all of them that I would make it up to them…go to college…become a big star. Well, that didn’t happen, now did it? I see them all from time to time, and there’s nothing worse than seeing the disappointment in their eyes. Oh, they don’t really show it…at least not when I’m talking face to face. It’s when they think I’m not looking. They can’t hide that what-might’ve-been look.”

“We all make mistakes, Doug,” James said.

“We’re not taking applications, bro. You’re in. You just have to say so,” Kevin said.

“This could be your shot at redemption,” Nicole added.

Doug chuckled humorlessly.

“That’s a load of bull. But, it might be my only shot at wiping that look off their faces.”

“It might be replaced by one you don’t like, though,” Kevin said.

“How so?” Doug asked.

“Well, for now, you’re poor Doug Pederson, the kid who could’ve gone far and didn’t. Tomorrow, you might be Doug Pederson, the kid whose parents lied about where he was from, oh and who has at least two, maybe three, identical siblings, oh and who’s being chased by people trying to kill him, oh and the brothers are cray-zee!”

“You are?” Doug said, looking at Kevin.

“I meant James. Can’t you see it in his eyes?” Kevin said.

James laughed, but stopped quickly when he saw that Doug hadn’t even cracked a smile.

“He’s kidding…at least about the crazy part.”

“I want to come with you,” Doug said.

“But–” James said.

“No buts. I’m serious. I do want to come with you…I don’t think I knew how much until just now,” Doug said.

“That’s great, Doug. That’s really good. You’re sure?” Nicole said.

“I am. I really am. This…this is good. It’ll be good,” Doug said.

Nicole reached up and squeezed Doug’s shoulder.

“We’re in this together, y’know?”

Doug shrugged, smiling.

“It’s gotta beat flipping bagels,” he said. “Speaking of which, just let me call Leo and let him know…”

The phone call was short. Leo seemed to be a man of few words and, though none of the others caught on, wasn’t taking the news too kindly. Doug hung up.

“He’s pissed. He’ll get over it, but he’s pissed.”

“He’ll forgive you,” Nicole said.

“We need to go back to your parents’ house,” Kevin said.

“What will you tell them?” James asked.

“The truth…they have to respect that…after all this,” Doug said.

They returned to the house, but Doug insisted that he be the only one to go back in. The visit was brief and there was a shadow on his face when he returned. Doug handed the envelope to James who hastily tucked it into his coat pocket.

“You ok?” Nicole asked when he had gotten comfortable again behind the wheel.

“Yeah…I think I’ve seen about as much of my mom crying as I can take in a day though,” Doug said.

They said nothing as he readjusted his seat and ran his hands across the steering wheel. A grin took him somewhere far away from the present and James felt bad interrupting his brief reverie.

“We need to get going, Doug,” he said.

“Sorry…just trying to remember,” Doug said.

“Gas is on the right…brake is on the left,” Kevin said.

“There’s always a comedian,” Doug said.

“Trying to remember what?” James asked.

“My first go behind the wheel. Might’ve been ten years ago now. Dad would let me pull the car out of the garage before a long trip. It was all fine and dandy till I ran over my own bike one day. Hee-hee! I think that was the first and last time I cussed in front of him,” Doug said.

He slipped the car into gear and eased back out onto the road. Five blocks down, James began scanning every side street they passed. He was reminded of the feeling he used to have while walking home from school. Terrified of dogs, he would take a certain path through town just to avoid dogs
he knew
were locked behind a fence. But, it was those times when one would appear in the open, come out from behind a house or out of a side street. That heart-skipping, stomach-bottoming moment that made him feel ill. That feeling he would later read about in Psychology 101. The fight or flight instinct. It was his body’s attempt at getting him to do something. Anything. As a child, he had learned quickly that flight was often a catalyst to being chased. So, more often than not, he would simply freeze as soon as a dog came into sight, then continue on as if he hadn’t seen it, the fear pouring off of him thick enough to bottle. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Some dogs just don’t like to be ignored.

Now, with every street they passed, James felt his stomach lurch in waves. Nicole noticed and reached a hand out to touch him. He flinched.

“Sorry,” he said. “Little nervous.”

“James, it’s…oh, shit!” Nicole said, pointing through the front windshield.

James turned around. Five blocks ahead, approaching them from the opposite direction was a black 60s muscle car. Just like the one Nicole had described. James cursed.

“What?” Doug said.

“Goddamn it…how the hell…that’s them,” James said without pointing. “Don’t do anything. Just keep going. Don’t hide…just act like it’s another fine sunny Ohio winter day.”

James was doing everything to fight the feeling in his chest. The dog was in sight…and he was doing everything he could to ignore and be ignored.

James held his breath as they passed the car and time seemed to slow down. James watched out of the corner of his eye. The occupants of the other car were talking, and just as they passed, the cars hanging parallel for what seemed to be the longest of moments, he saw the passenger point. This dog wasn’t going to be ignored.

Nicole, Kevin, and James turned simultaneously in their seats to look out the back window. They watched in horror as the car accelerated and made a pin-point sliding U-turn at the next intersection.

“Go,” James said, “Go, go, go!”

“Chill, brother. He might have a ’69 ‘Cuda, but I know this town like the back of my hand.”

“Go!” Kevin added.

Doug took the next left and hammered the gas down the narrow street, lined with parked, snowed-in cars on both sides of the road. James felt the car’s rear end shimmy, and he spoke over his shoulder.

“If you weren’t buckled in, I’d do it now.”

The answering seat-belt clicks were nearly simultaneous. They heard the car careen around the corner behind them. The Chrysler seemed to be plodding along. James imagined himself running through two feet of snow, the dog at his heels.

“I never understood car chases in movies,” Doug said, clearly making small-talk.

He took another side-street with a hard right.

“What are they going to do when they catch up to us?”

“Ram us,” Nicole said.

“Run us off the road,” Kevin said.

“Shoot at us with guns,” James said.

“Well, yeah…but…uhhh…huh…just like the movies, huh?” Doug said.

“Yep…unless somebody crashes,” James said, cringing back in his seat, gripping the door handle and dash as Doug swerved nimbly to avoid a car backing out of a driveway.

“Whoa!”

“Hee-hee! Wet you panties, brother?” Doug said, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

“Maybe,” Kevin whispered audibly.

They all heard as the black car laid on the horn, scaring the offending car back into its driveway.

“Dammit,” Doug said.

They were hurtling down the side streets. James glanced over and the odometer belied a pace of approximately 60 miles per hour. The limit was no more than 25 in a rural area like this.

“Here comes the fun part,” Doug said.

They watched as he deftly maneuvered a turn down a one-lane alley no one had seen until he made the turn.

“I hope this car is small enough…ooo!”

Nicole let out a squeal and covered her head. James flinched away from the door as the side view mirror collided with the corner of an alley fence. What remained was cracked glass and splintered plastic.

“Glad this isn’t my car!” Doug exclaimed.

James noted the near giddiness in the guy. It was almost funny…if James hadn’t been so close to vomiting. For a moment, he thought he could feel the ulcer developing. Nicole turned to look back out the rear window. Despite all the maneuvering, the black car was still in full pursuit.

“If
we
thought it was tight, he’s in for a surprise,” Doug said.

James turned in his seat just in time to see the same fence shear off the front right side of the classic’s bumper. But, like a frenzied dog, the muscle car shrugged off the hit and charged through the alley after them.

“Oh shit…” Doug said.

James turned back just in time to see the empty aluminum garbage can roll out in front of them. They were on it before Doug could react and in a din of smashed metal, it was up over the windshield, flying behind them and into what was probably someone’s yard. The end of the alley was upon them, when Doug started braking furiously. He had seen it before they had. The end of the alley and road beyond were poorly plowed and going straight would put them in someone’s living room. He still slid as he navigated the turn, the 300M’s tail end sliding this way and that, trying to find some traction. They made the turn, just avoiding another collision.

“Watch this one. He’s coming way too fast. He’ll never make it,” Doug said.

They were halfway down the block when the Barracuda came barreling out of the alley sideways. The driver almost pulled it off, but the two extra feet he needed was taken up by a parked car that suffered a slamming sideswipe collision. The rabid dog only paused a moment before coming onward, unabated.

“Persistent bastard,” Doug said. “Alright, we have ways of squashing persistence.”

“Doug! Jeee…” James couldn’t finish his sentence as Doug suddenly took a hard right, barely avoiding a car that had stopped to turn left. He gunned it down the short street. Blaring horns made the three turn to look behind. The black car had just avoided a potentially deadly collision with the stopped car. It came on with reckless abandon.

“Aren’t there any cops in this town?” Kevin asked, voice raised.

“Oh, you
want
me to find the cops?” Doug said.

“No…on second thought. Doug…Doug? Good Lord…we’re gonna die,” Kevin whimpered.

Doug had barreled out the end of the road and pulled a hard left…into the oncoming traffic of a one-way road.

“Wheeee!” Doug yelled. “We only have two of these in all of town. Good thing they’re two lanes! Whoa!”

“You’re a fuckin’ nut bar!” Kevin yelled from the back, as Doug swerved around another panicky on comer.

“Whee-hee!”

They maneuvered through a gap in traffic before making another right up a side street, finally going with the flow of traffic again. Doug let off the gas a little.

“No way he’s going to follow that,” Doug said.

“Go figure,” Kevin said.

“Thank God,” said Nicole.

“Maybe we lost him,” James said.

“I’ll believe it when I don’t see him. Keep your eyes peeled. There are other ways around that street. He might just be smarter than we think,” Doug said.

James deflated in his seat as they cruised down this new road.

“Nice driving. I couldn’t have done it,” he said.

“Thanks. I told you driving’s sort of a treat for me,” Doug said.

“Do this often, do you?” Kevin said.

“No, but boy have I been dying to. I’ve driven that route in my mind hundreds of times. Always thought it would be a great escape route,” Doug said.

“How close are we to the highway?” James asked.

“About a half mile. I know a quick way to that hospital of yours. Know it well. A little too well, I guess. My gran…she…uhh…died there.”