The Last American Martyr (18 page)

After we moved back to the sofa and chair for a second round of coffee, we traded thoughts about some of the novels we’d both read. I talked a little about growing up in New York. She shared a few memories from her girlhood in New England. She also asked what it was like in Stockholm, when I received the prize, and I tried my best to explain the feeling.

I’d never felt any great attraction to cats before, but all three of hers hung around us humans the entire time, and they were remarkably friendly. Two made themselves at home on my lap, and I stroked them as we talked. For the first time in ages, I was actually enjoying myself. This was a sorely-needed, soothing respite from the paranoiac bars I’d been living behind. But when Julie said she’d love to meet my dog and asked what her name was, that peaceful easy feeling quickly deflated.

“Her name’s Solace,” I said, “I picked her up at an animal shelter in South Carolina three months ago.” Then I slipped and said, “I was tired of being alone.”

Julie shifted in her chair and her face grimaced slightly, as if she’d been pinched. It was obvious she felt bad for me and wanted to see inside my soul. Instead of just looking into my eyes, she was now trying to see
through
them. Fishing for more information she asked, “Did you name her Solace or did the previous owners?”

Beginning to feel cornered now, I said, “Well, yes…I did.”

“Well, Solace is a nice name…unusual, but nice.”

Then there was a silence. I picked my cup up from the table and looked inside it. The only audible sounds were the snapping and popping in the fireplace. Suddenly it seemed louder. I wished I’d left after the damn pancakes.

Looking back at her I said, “Look, thanks for the…”

“I’m sorry, Tom.” she interrupted, in a gentle voice. “I’m so very sorry for what happened to Elaina.”

That was it. She meant well, but she’d entered hallowed ground. I put the coffee cup back on the table, lowered both the cats to the floor and stood up.

“Don’t leave, Tom.” she said, rising to her feet now. “Please, stay a little longer. That was foolish of me. I don’t know you well enough to…”

“No, that’s okay. Certainly you meant no harm. I know what you were trying to do, and it was very thoughtful. I’ve just got to be…I just have to get going.”

I then walked over to her and put out my hand. I felt the gesture was necessary. Short as our time together had been, I could already tell that this woman was an exceptionally warm and caring human being. I even laid my other hand on top of hers as we gently grasped hands. I say grasped because we did not shake.

As she walked me to the door, I said to the cats at my feet, “Bye guys.” Then I opened the door and turned back around. Looking down into Julie Dubois’ warm eyes, I said, “Thanks so much for the breakfast and for letting me stay last night. That was very, very kind of you.”

I managed a heartfelt smile, but it did not last. It faded as she lifted her hand toward my face. Softly, she brushed the hair back from my forehead and said, “Stay safe, Tom. You didn’t deserve any of what’s happened to you. You’re a good man.”

I just stood there for a moment, slowly nodding my head. Then I turned around and left.

Chapter 17

Lumbering away from the cabin in the camper, I couldn’t help but to keep checking the rearview mirror. Julie’s door did not open. She did not wave me back. I wouldn’t have known how to react if she had. The only thing that did move was the thin stream of smoke rising from her chimney and two horses in front of a small stable that I hadn’t seen before. Once the cabin was out of sight, I realized how stupid of me it was to think a woman like her might try to prevent me from leaving. Even if she had wanted to, I could tell Julie Dubois had far too much class and empathy to do such a thing.

Picking up speed towards Missoula, looking for a campground, I kept thinking about how she’d caressed my hair to the side. Being the emotional sort I am, that small, sympathetic gesture moved me deeply. It told me everything I needed to know about this woman. Had this been another time, under different conditions, she’d have had to pull out that shotgun to get rid of me.

Sure, I’d only known her for an hour, but there is no requisite waiting period when it comes to human magnetism. Attraction, appeal, charisma, chemistry, whatever you want to label it, has moods and methods all of its own. And when it pulls, the instinctual feeling is undeniable. This joining of souls and desires can be an evolutionary process, taking years to come to fruition. But it can also strike in an instant. A man and woman may be standing at adjoining checkout lanes at a supermarket and witlessly make eye contact. Their glances could linger for just a second or two longer than usual, but that is enough. Because of this random crossing of visual paths, they share an unexpected strong yearning. There’s heat in their eyes, and they both feel it. Neither says anything because it may not be what people deem “appropriate.” But the following week they both feel a compulsion to do their shopping at the exact same time. Maybe they meet again; maybe they don’t, but that rare attraction was there. A most profound human phenomenon had occurred and they both knew it. If their eyes never do meet again, both may be very surprised by how long a profound sense of loss continues to linger.

Yes, that was how I felt about this Julie Dubois. To let such a woman slip away seemed a crime, a sad, unfortunate crime. But I couldn’t help it. The timing just wasn’t right. Again, I was nowhere near ready for a romantic relationship. Yet somehow, emotionally crippled as I was, another sense of loss had now found its way into my ailing heart.

Not wanting to be a sitting duck, or a rolling one, I really didn’t want to go into downtown Missoula. But there was no other choice. Without access to Wi-Fi it would have been doubly difficult to find a local campground open in mid-March. So Solace and I rolled into the parking lot of a Holiday Inn, parked in back, and were able to get online. After locating the RV park that was open year round, I jotted down the directions from MapQuest and drove out there.

The campground offered limited services during the offseason but that was fine by me. With average high temperatures in the forties, we wouldn’t be spending a whole lot of time outdoors; all I wanted was a place to hole up for a month or so, before heading to Maine. I pretty much had my choice of sites and as always, chose the most secluded one. It had one beautiful mountain view. As I looked through an opening in the surrounding trees, it put me to mind of one of those calendar photographs.  

After setting up and taking my sidekick for a stroll, I put on some more coffee and turned on the laptop. The same five pictures of me were on Soleswatch—three with a beard and two without. Anybody who’d seen them would recognize me either way. Convinced now that I looked better without it and ten years younger, I decided to shave it off later that day. I’d keep the moustache, but the rest would go. I then tormented myself a little for suddenly becoming vain after meeting Julie Dubois, but I was steadfast and kept denying it.

The Soleswatch map was both good and bad news. I had been spotted after leaving Dallas, but the last sighting was in Casper, Wyoming. At least, for now, nobody knew I was here. When I’d checked into the campground, the teenager in the office seemed preoccupied and didn’t ask for my driver’s license, so I was able to give him another counterfeit name. Wanting to try the place out before locking in for a month, I paid for three days, with cash, of course. When I left the office, I could have kicked myself. Who was to say that, if I extended my stay as planned, there wouldn’t be a by-the-book-clerk who’d want to fill out all new paperwork and see my license?

For the next three mornings, after my jog, I stopped into the park office for a cup of their free coffee. Unfortunately, every time the same lady was there. She was a strictly business, no nonsense, no personality, not even a hello, older woman in her seventies. Don’t get me wrong, with my cap pulled down tight, sunglasses on, and the hood of my sweatshirt up each time I went in there, she might have taken me for a Unabomber copycat. After all, when the FBI arrested him fourteen years prior—almost to the day—it was at his cabin just seventy miles away, outside of Lincoln, Montana. On top of that, he was close to my age back then, and some people had told me in the past that I bear a striking resemblance to him.

I couldn’t discern whether these thoughts had any credence or my paranoia was escalating to dangerous new heights. With my mind taking a shellacking from the whirlwind of frenetic events constantly spinning all around me for so long, my sense of judgment seemed dizzied at times. But half out of it or not, I did believe that Ted Kaczynski probably hadn’t felt all that different about being hunted down than I did. Whether it was in my head or not, it just wasn’t fair that I should even have to entertain such thoughts. I may have been a lot of things, but people like the Soleswatchers would have to look far and wide to find a more peace-loving person than myself.

Any way you slice it, the woman in the office did not like me. Maybe she abhorred everybody, but that was irrelevant. The bottom line was I had to pay up by eleven that morning or leave. And I just knew there would be a confrontation.

As I traipsed back to the camper, sipping my coffee from a foam cup, I heard a vehicle coming up the road behind me. Not bothering to turn around I just moved to the edge of the road and kept walking. The tires were crunching gravel very slowly, but when it caught up to me, I nearly jumped out of my Fruit of the Looms. I’d been so deep into my newest worry that by the time the big pickup truck approached I was barely aware of it. Stunning me back to the here and now when it appeared alongside me, the driver, only two feet away said, “Good morning stranger!”

Startled, I jerked my head around and my shoulders back. It was Julie Dubois.

“Hey…Julie…you caught me off guard. How are you?”

“I’m good, Tom. Can I give you a lift?”

“Ahhh, sure, my camper’s just around that bend.”

“I know, come on in.”

She knew? How did she know that? What’s she doing
here?
I asked myself.

I climbed up and into the silver behemoth, and she gave me a quick once-over saying, “Wow! Don’t we look handsome? You shaved off your beard!”

Stroking my bare chin, as she started rolling ahead, I said, “Yeah, feels kind of naked, but I’m getting used to it.”

“Well, you look terrific and a lot more rested than you did at my place.”

Putting on a devilish smile now, I said, “Oh go on, I’ll bet you tell all the boys that.”

She, too, was still smiling. Keeping her eyes on the road, she leaned across the expansive front seat and gave me a playful shoulder slap. It was plain to see that she was genuinely happy to have found me. As for me, I was flattered that she had bothered to look in the first place. With her hair all tucked up and back, exposing her delicate ears and jaw line, she didn’t look more beautiful than I’d remembered, that would be impossible, but she did look a snippet more glamorous.

A few moments later we got out of the truck, alongside the camper; and Solace was expressing all her usual excitement inside. Scrunching up my face a little, I tilted my head to one side, and looked at Julie out of the corner of my eyes. Teasingly, as if it was a mild scolding I said, “And just how did
you
know where my RV was?”

I could not believe it, but she was actually blushing like a schoolgirl. She lowered her pretty face and looked up at me, as if her pants had fallen down and she’d quickly hiked them up. “Well…I just happened to be in the neighborhood and…”

“Come on now. I was born at night, but not last night.”

“Okay, today’s Wednesday, I had to come into Missoula anyway. I have three classes at the university and just happened to wake up a little early. Sooo, I thought maybe I’d see if I could find you. See how you’re doing.”

Losing the face scrunch now, I said in a more serious tone, “Thank you Julie. That was very considerate. Hey, what do you say, want to meet Solace? Come on, let’s get inside before she tears this thing apart.”

Once Solace calmed down, she and Julie hit it off really well. Knowing what an excellent judge of character Solace is, I wouldn’t have expected it to have worked out any other way. But still, I was quite surprised when she perched on Julie’s lap after we sat on the sofa. Still with my own coffee, I asked her if she cared for any.

“No thanks, I’m pretty well coffee’d out. I don’t have but about ten minutes anyway.” Glancing around she then said, “Nice setup you have here, Tom. And I must say, very tidy, too. ”

Since I was working on my first coffee of the morning, I reflexively picked up the pack of cigarettes laying on the end table. Then I put it right back down.

“No, go right ahead Tom. I don’t mind if you smoke.”

“Are you sure? I know some people are a little skittish about the secondhand smoke thing.”

“No, go right ahead,” she said waving me off. “I myself have a couple every afternoon, along with my two glasses of red wine. Sure, smoking, even in moderation, isn’t going to improve anybody’s health, but I sure as heck don’t buy into all those ridiculous, government-bought, doomsday studies.”

“I’m with you on that,” I said, after lighting one up, “can you imagine the Surgeon General stating that, one inhale of secondhand smoke can sicken a nonsmoker for the rest of their life? They better stay out of New York then. Just walking the streets there, a person inhales the equivalent of a pack a day. Anyway, I’m glad you stopped over, Julie.”

 “Don’t be silly. I really wanted to see if you were doing alright.”

“Yeah, I’m doing considerably better than I was three days ago. Don’t forget, the night I met you I’d just finished two days on the road. On top of that, I’d been going through an awful lot mentally. Julie,” I said, feeling my eyes narrow, “have you ever heard of a website called Soleswatch.com?”

“That’s part of the reason I came to see you today.”

“What do you mean?”