The Methuselah Project (37 page)

“Really? So what’s the story?” She bit off the tip of a breadstick.

“When I was locked in the Methuselah bunker, I started going nuts. Stir-crazy from being underground so long. I asked Dr. Kossler to bring tons of books. English when he could find ’em, but German books when he couldn’t. He even scrounged up grammar books in Dutch, Russian, French, and Finnish for me to puzzle over. Without reading material to keep my brain occupied, I’d be in a funny farm by now.”

“Which explains why you’re such an authority on classic literature.”

He shook his head. “I’m no authority. Funny thing is, before my capture, I never read much at all, except aircraft technical manuals or maybe
Yank,
the army weekly magazine. Then, while I was a prisoner, I read millions of pages. One year—I think it was about 1959 or 1960—I memorized entire chapters of
Robinson Crusoe
just as a mental challenge. By the way, if you haven’t read that one yet, stop at the point where Crusoe gets rescued. That final stuff about him sailing to Spain and getting attacked by wolves makes a crummy ending.”

“That’s when you started reading the Bible and praying?”

“Right. Of course, I’d heard about God all my life. Even back in Sunshine, an elderly lady named Hawkins used to tell us Bible stories and urged the orphans to pray. I did say a couple of desperate ‘Help me’ prayers right after my capture. Honestly, though, I never reflected much on God until the bunker. Suddenly the distractions of normal life disappeared. I had years and years of time to meditate on the universe, God, eternity, the meaning of life—”

“Are you convinced life has a meaning?” Katherine lanced a cherry tomato with her fork and popped it into her mouth.

“I’m sure. Yeah, I know all about Darwin and that crowd. I read his
Origin of Species.
Seven times, cover to cover. Despite all his talk about birds’ beaks growing longer, et cetera, Darwin never comes close to explaining how earth could be a totally dead, lifeless planet one minute, and the next moment give birth to a living, functioning cell—complete with fast-working reproductive abilities to duplicate itself before the sterile environment killed it off again.”

When she offered no comment, he continued. “Same thing for the whole universe. Only two possibilities exist: either God created the universe, or the universe created itself—out of absolutely nothing. If you cut God out of the equation, it makes no sense for anything physical to exist. Not even one molecule. I spent years dodging belief in God, but the more I dwelled on the subject, the harder it was to believe an enormous brainless universe popped itself into existence from empty space and started ticking like a Swiss watch. That’s when I told Kossler to find me a Bible. The more I read it, the more the pieces fit together.”

Katherine focused on her food, carefully plucking black olives from her salad rather than making eye contact. “I’ll have to think about it. Maybe after this whole mess is over. My uncle raised me to think of religion as a crutch for weak minds.”

He accepted her signal to change the subject. “I’ve been meaning to bring up another subject. Tonight.”

“What about tonight?”

Now it was his turn to squirm with an uncomfortable topic. How did you talk to a woman about something like this? “Katherine, America has changed a lot. Even after only a couple of days I can tell people do a lot of things I’ve never done. At least some of them do.”

“Meaning?”

Judging by her eyes, Katherine remained genuinely mystified. He would have to spell it out. “With killers on my six, I’d better not sleep in the car in a parking lot. On the other hand, well … Call me old-fashioned if you want, but the way I was raised, a man just doesn’t go around checking into hotels with a pretty girl he’s not married to.”

Katherine burst into laughter. “Let me guess. You want to get married tonight?”

Roger felt his muscles relax as he joined in her laughter. “Don’t put words in my mouth. What I mean is, it’s like stepping into temptation. You know I’m serious about God. So let’s take turns. Only one of us on the bed at a time. One sleeps while the other keeps watch at the window. Also, if I make so much as one suggestive move, I want you to slap me so hard it will knock some sense into me.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Roger that, Captain,” she said, borrowing his radio jargon. “I’ll keep my slapping hand cocked and ready. But if any other Air Force vet had pulled a line like that, I wouldn’t buy it for a million dollars!”

Roger chuckled and reached for a second breadstick. Good. The explanation was over and went pretty smoothly. Even after so many decades, he felt awkward broaching certain subjects with a girl. But Katherine was no ordinary girl. For once, he’d found a girl with whom he could bare his inner feelings. She was the down-home type you could go camping with, or sip cocoa with in front of a fireplace, the kind who might actually enjoy changing baby diapers.

Did he have a right to think such thoughts? He pushed the pasta around his plate.

Sure he looked young, but he was a lifetime older than she was, literally a geezer from a bygone era. Would a girl like Katherine be repulsed to learn he was developing feelings for her?

What do you have to offer a woman? You’ve got no job, no home, no money, no nothing. Worse, trained assassins are trying to rub you out. She might feel sorry for you, but why would any sensible girl want to love a dinosaur with a bull’s-eye plastered on his back?

Katherine sipped her peach-raspberry iced tea. “You’ve grown awfully quiet. A penny for your thoughts.”

He swallowed and plunged a fork into his fettuccine Alfredo. “I was thinking that this is, without a doubt, the fanciest spaghetti I’ve ever eaten!”

T
HURSDAY
, M
ARCH
12, 2015

C
OMFORT
I
NN
, US 31, K
OKOMO
, I
NDIANA

T
he next morning after a simple breakfast in the lobby of the Comfort Inn, Roger and Katherine once again headed outside to her car. Their nighttime vigils by the window had ensured that no one had approached it, let alone planted a car bomb.

Roger inhaled the crisp spring air and smiled as his breath condensed visibly in front of him. As he scraped frost from the windshield, he wished for something a bit warmer than the fake hairpiece on his head. March in Indiana was colder than he recalled. Or maybe his body was just used to the constant temperature in his former cell. Rubbing his hands to warm them, he slipped behind the steering wheel and glanced at Katherine. In the passenger seat, she looked like a stranger in the wig. The disguise accomplished their goal, but he missed seeing her natural hair. She studied her portable phone.

“More messages from your uncle?” Roger put the car into gear.

She tossed the phone into her handbag. “Can’t say. The battery died.”

“I’ll be glad if a battery is the only thing that dies today.”

Her eyes weren’t smiling when she returned his gaze. She appeared on the verge of tears.

“Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood with grim humor.”

“Roger, this pressure is getting to me. Even when it was my turn to sleep last night, I lay there wondering if bullets or a pipe bomb might smash through the window any second.”

Roger’s foot shifted to the brake pedal. He stopped the car before they left the parking lot. “The last thing I want is for you to get hurt. If you’re frightened, I’ll get out and walk. I won’t blame you.”

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t stand a chance. They would run you over. Or do a drive-by shooting.”

Roger searched his brain for an inspiring reply, but his mind hit rock bottom. “So what do you want to do? Your call.”

“Let’s compromise. We can still go to the veterans’ ceremony, and our ad will be in today’s paper. But if we don’t find any leads by this evening, we’ll stop running. We’ll go to the police or the FBI and ask for protection. We’ll tell the whole story.”

Her suggestion led to the one course of action he’d been dodging all along. Couldn’t she understand why? “They’ll throw me into a loony bin, Katherine. I refuse to let anybody lock me up. I’ve experienced more than my share of being a zoo animal. Never again.”

Tears welled in her eyes, overflowed onto her cheeks. Here she was, the most wonderful thing that had happened to him in seventy years, and she was crying—all because of him.

He snatched a tissue from the packet on the dashboard and dabbed her cheeks. “Okay. You’ve been more than swell through this whole crazy escapade. If we can’t come up with one definite contact to pursue by six o’clock tonight, we’ll go to the cops. One thing that might help is that photo of me in the Eighth Air Force Museum. I can’t prove it’s me, but it’s one thread of evidence.”

“Plus, if they contact the police in Georgia, there will be a report about the shootings in the museum. That redheaded woman and her son—”

Roger grunted. “Don’t forget, only you and I know that that Griffin character did the shooting. The police might conclude that I—the madman with the nutty war story—am the maniac who shot them and fled from the scene. I’ll admit I’m tired of running. I can’t keep moving for the rest of my life.”

She reached for his hand. “I’ll stick with you. I’ll vouch for your story.”

The warmth and tenderness of her fingers felt so right. Before he could stop himself, he leaned over and hugged her. To his delight, her arms hugged back. “I appreciate your support. Only trouble is, you’re too young to vouch for my story. The authorities won’t believe a cute young lady who didn’t know me during World War II.”

Despite the teary glint in her eyes, Katherine returned a wry smile. “I believe that’s the first time in my life a handsome bachelor has wished I was a wrinkled, old spinster.”

He waggled a finger and grinned. “Now you’re twisting my words. I’m sure you’ll make a lovely old lady someday, but for now I like you just how you are.” He gently nudged her with his elbow. “I do have one more strategy I’d like to apply, if you don’t mind.”

She cocked her head. “Strategy?”

“Remember the elderly woman at the orphanage I mentioned? She said always to pray. I was pretty slow catching on, but I pray pretty often these days. Join me?” He squeezed her hand.

When Katherine nodded, he could read in her eyes that she sincerely agreed, even if she wasn’t accustomed to addressing the Almighty.

Roger bowed his head and prayed a from-the-gut request for God’s guidance and protection. The words weren’t flowery, just sincere and to the point. He finished with an “Amen,” which Katherine repeated.

As he maneuvered the car onto Highway 31, Roger checked all directions for followers. His mind replayed Katherine’s words referring to him as a handsome bachelor. Was she sending him a subtle message?

Don’t waste your time getting confused about love. You’re not out of the frying pan, Greene.
Besides, her wording could’ve been totally innocent. He pushed Katherine’s compliment from his mind for the moment. If she was sending a signal, he could interpret it later. Right now, he’d better concentrate on keeping both of them alive.

T
HURSDAY
, M
ARCH
12, 2015

N
ORTH
K
EYSTONE
A
VENUE
, I
NDIANAPOLIS

K
atherine pointed up the street. “Roger, pull into the shopping center. That electronic supply store should stock chargers for my cell phone.”

Roger maneuvered into the lot. If she could telephone her uncle Kurt, Katherine might get some answers.

Five minutes later, she hopped back in the car, triumph on her beaming face. “Got one.” She plugged the adaptor into the cigarette lighter. “Now, let’s see if my uncle has his phone on.” She keyed in the proper number.

“It’s ringing.” She flashed Roger an excited thumbs-up. “Uncle Kurt? Thank goodness you’re back from Africa. Life has become a nightmare! Where are you?”

From the half conversation Roger heard, he guessed her uncle had spent the night at a hotel right in Indianapolis.