Thirteenth Child (9 page)

The snack bar emptied early that night. Kate pulled out the notebook from under the counter, but she didn’t start writing right away. Talking to Mike about the house—it had brought it all back. Most of the time, she just pushed the whole business out of her mind. It hurt too much to think of it. But Mike—funny how he seemed to understand things. It made her feel better. Almost unconsciously, she began to write.

Jed was tall, and probably wouldn’t be considered handsome by most people, but there was something irresistibly attractive about him. He obviously worked outdoors a lot. He had dark, waving hair, in bad need of a haircut, that he kept tossing out of his eyes. It curled a little on the back of his neck in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His hands were strong and competent. You knew at once he would be good at building things. And his eyes—so blue! They crinkled a bit when he laughed, but that was not often. He looked as if he carried a secret deep within him. Sometimes he looked dangerous….

It didn’t occur to her she had just described Mike.

During the next two weeks there was another robbery at a local convenience store, and two others in nearby towns. People were starting to get in a turmoil. Kate herself, although she
would never admit it, was beginning to feel nervous when she was alone in the evenings in the snack bar.

If it isn’t Mike, then I’m in as much danger as anybody else, she caught herself thinking.

What do I mean, “if it isn’t Mike”? Of course it isn’t Mike. It could be anybody. One of the bikers. Somebody from out of town. There was a really crummy-looking guy in here just the other day, it could be him. If I really thought it was Mike, I would report it, wouldn’t I? Of course I would.

But if it isn’t Mike, then I
shouldn’t
be alone so much. Maybe that crummy-looking guy was casing the place. Setting it up for his next hit….

Her mind went back and forth like a ping-pong ball.

And she
was
often alone. Her father was drinking steadily again, not even trying to hide it. He spent more time in the room over the garage than anywhere else, and was rarely around to help out.

Melanie Davis and her gang drove up for gas the day after the third robbery. Kate winced at the thought of having to serve them, but she had no choice. They didn’t pay her much attention, however.

“Oh, hi, Kate,” the driver, Jerry Dunn—Melanie’s latest conquest—threw out.

“Were you really there?” Mercy Harris, Melanie’s best friend, was asking.

“I sure was!” Melanie skipped out of the car and over to the Coke machine. She dropped a coin in the slot and grabbed the can as it rolled down, then hopped back in. “I’d gone in after work and I was, like, in the corner? Looking through the magazines? I saw the whole thing. I don’t think he saw me, though. It all happened so quick. Gus sure didn’t hesitate about giving him the money, not after that other guy got cut.”

“What did he look like?” Mercy sounded just about as awestruck as the Davidson boy.

“Couldn’t tell. He had this mask thing over his face, you know? But there was something….”

She suddenly looked at Kate. Her face grew thoughtful. “There was
something
familiar about him, as if I’d seen him somewhere….”

Kate fumbled Jerry’s change. Jerry retrieved it just before it fell.

“Thanks, Kate.” He dropped the gearshift into drive and peeled out, almost before the words were out of his mouth.

Mike turned up a few minutes later. Kate watched him swing down out of a truck he’d hitched a ride in and walk toward her. He’d been coming over more and more in his spare time lately—Angie had even mentioned what a help he was. Kate looked around. The stacks of useless old tires had disappeared, and the service station had begun to take on a tidy, more efficient look. Steve grumbled now and then at his being around, but never followed through.

“Coffee hot?” Mike called out as he came toward her, picking up a styrofoam container and pitching it in the trash barrel.

Acts like he owns the place, Kate thought with a sudden, irrational stab of annoyance. She watched him as he strode toward her. He moved so confidently. There was no mistaking that cocky walk.

At the same moment a police cruiser pulled in. Mike checked himself and suddenly turned away. The driver got out.

“Got any chocolate-covered doughnuts today, Kate?” the driver called.

It was Constable Downey; Kate knew him well. He strode over. Mike disappeared around the side of the building. Kate watched the officer come toward her. If she was going to tell anyone about Mike, he would be the one to choose. She’d known him for years. She trusted him.

But what if Mike
was
innocent and he arrested him? She’d be responsible for ruining Mike’s life. He’d had a hard enough time of it already. Could she really do that to him?

She followed the constable into the snack bar, dumped two doughnuts into a bag, took his money and made change, responding to his jokes all the while, although she didn’t have the slightest idea what she was saying. It was as if she were somewhere outside of herself, watching it all happen.

Constable Downey got back into the cruiser,
waved and drove off. When Mike reappeared he was almost determinedly casual. He didn’t say why he’d suddenly lit out. Kate didn’t have the nerve to ask.

She was just about to close up that night, long after Mike had left, when she heard a motorcycle roar into the station. She tensed. She hadn’t seen her father since noon, and as far as she knew, her mother had gone to bed. The bikers came in fairly often and had never given her any real trouble yet, but she didn’t feel up to facing one of them right now. It was too late. Besides—that young one, Rod, his name was, seemed to think trying to make time with the waitress was part of the image. The others kept him in line, but if that was him coming in now, she sure didn’t want to have to deal with him on her own. Before she could make it to the door to lock it, however, it was pushed open. She dodged back.

A helmeted figure strode in, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. No spider on it. Kate couldn’t tell which one of them it was.

Then she took another incredulous look. He took off his helmet and leaned easily against the doorway.

“Barney!”

“Hi there, Kate.” A futile attempt to be casual battled briefly with excitement, then lost. “I got it! Got it yesterday, and it’s just about all paid for. Come on outside and look at it!”

“I don’t believe it, Barney! The jacket—the helmet! I don’t believe it!”

“Come on, Kate,” Barney urged.

The black and red motorcycle from the dealership window stood shining in the gas-station lights.

“Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Barney’s voice was triumphant.

“It’s … it’s great,” Kate agreed weakly. She was stunned. Seen this close up, it looked huge. No way could she imagine Barney on that. Suddenly she remembered Barney’s father.

“What about your dad,” she asked.

Barney’s mouth thinned, “Don’t ask,” he said. “Don’t even
ask.
Let’s just say things aren’t too happy at home right now. But this is one time I am
not
giving in. I bought it and I paid for it. It’s none of his business.” He shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought of his father, then his eyes lit up again. “Get your jacket, Kate. I’ll take you for a ride.”

“Oh, no. You’re not getting me on that thing.”

“Come on, Kate. You’ll love it.”

“Forget it, Barney. Anyway, I can’t. Can’t leave the snack bar.”

“Close it up. It’s almost closing time anyway and there’s nobody here. You can shut up a little early. Come on, Kate—please?”

Kate wavered. She had never been on a motorcycle in her life—never wanted to be. Still, it
was
Barney. He was looking at her with such a
pleading look—almost desperate. It obviously meant a lot to him.

“Oh, okay,” she said finally. “I’m going to regret this, though, I just know it.”

“No, you’re not, Kate. I promise. You’ll love it.”

“Wait until I’ve got everything locked up,” Kate answered, still dubious.

“I really don’t want to do this,” she repeated as she finally followed Barney over to the bike. He handed her a helmet and helped her put it on. It felt heavy and awkward.

“Sure you do,” he insisted.

He obviously wasn’t about to let her back out. Kate sighed in resignation.

“Don’t go too fast, okay?” she said as she swung one leg over the seat and clung to Barney’s waist. Her words came out muffled.

“Don’t worry.” He started the machine up. “Hold tight!” He swerved sharply out of the station and onto the highway with a deafening roar.

Kate felt her heart leap up into her throat and she closed her eyes in terror. Clutching onto Barney, she hunched down against him as close as she could. Why in the world had she ever agreed to this? She must be crazy. She felt the motorcycle wobble beneath her and she let out a cry that was immediately lost in all the noise. The wind whipped past them. Her hands were suddenly cold.

“Kate! Not that tight!” Barney shouted back over his shoulder. “I’ve only got one set of ribs.”

Kate forced herself to loosen her grip, then grabbed hard again as Barney pulled out to pass a truck.

“Not so fast, Barney!” she shrieked. “Don’t
pass
things!”

Barney didn’t answer. After a few more moments, when nothing terrible seemed to have happened yet, Kate got up the nerve to raise her head and take a tentative peek over his shoulder. The road ahead of them was empty, the fields on either side dark. The motorcycle headlight cut a single beam through the blackness. Kate relaxed slightly. She had no idea how fast they were going, but there was no sensation of speed now. The motorcycle purred smoothly through the night.

Another couple of minutes, and she found she was actually beginning to enjoy herself. It was as if they were totally alone—the rest of the world, outside of this one narrow ribbon of road, didn’t even exist. What if they just kept going on and on? What if they never stopped? Like the Flying Dutchman, sailing endlessly over the seas, alone for eternity….

The headlights of an oncoming car suddenly rushed up at them and just as suddenly passed and left them in darkness again. Kate was shocked back into awareness, but the fear didn’t return. She leaned against Barney easily, feeling the unexpected hardness of his muscles beneath the jacket. It felt reassuring.

They finally pulled back into the service station. Kate jumped off.

“You were right, Barn. It was fantastic. I mean it. Really fantastic! I had no idea it could be such fun.”

“See? I told you, didn’t I? I told you you’d love it.” He turned to put their helmets back on the seat.

“Where the
hell
have you been?”

The words were loud and slurred.

“Dad!”

Her father was standing in the snack-bar doorway, swaying slightly.

“You little slut! Running around with motorcycle bums in the middle of the night!”

“Dad! It’s Barney! I just went for a ride—”

“Close up the store early and head out, eh? Thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you? I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you what’s right and what’s wrong. No daughter of mine runs around with motorcycle bums.”

Kate stared at her father in horror. She stumbled back against Barney.

“Get away from that scum!”

Steve lurched toward them, one arm upraised, fist menacing.

“Dad, you don’t understand. It’s not what you think.”

“I know what I see!”

Before Kate realized what was happening, he opened his hand and brought it down hard
against the side of her face. Her head rocked back. The force of the blow knocked her off her feet and sent her sprawling onto the cement. At the same moment Barney jumped forward, putting himself between her and her father.

“Leave her alone,” he shouted.

“As for you,” Steve began, and raised his arm again.

Barney charged. He aimed a blow with his right fist that Steve parried easily, but then swung with his left and landed a thudding punch to the older man’s stomach. Steve hunched, gasping. Barney threw himself on him with a fury that carried both of them to the ground.

“Barney! Dad!” Kate screamed. She leaped to her feet and ran toward them. “Barney, stop!” she cried as Barney, in a frenzy of rage, punched and punched again at Steve.

He took no notice, then suddenly seemed to hear her. He stopped, shook his head slowly from side to side as if clearing it, then allowed Kate to pull him to his feet, away from Steve. Her father lay doubled up, choking. Kate started for him, panicked, but was brought up short when he started to retch.

“Get out of here,” he panted finally. “Get the hell out of here, both of you.”

Kate looked at her father lying on the ground, spattered with his own vomit. She felt something die within her.

“Go, Barney!” Kate choked the words out, then turned and ran for the snack bar and her own room. As she threw herself down on her bed she heard the motorcycle thunder out of the station.

She was still there late the next morning when there was a tentative knock on her door.

“Kate? Kate, you’ve slept in. I need you downstairs.”

Angie.

“Barney’s here. Says he wants to see you. He’s acting sort of strange. Kate—is anything wrong?”

“Tell him to go away.” The vision of her father, drunk and raving, flooded back. Hot,
sour shame turned her own stomach nauseous. She couldn’t ever face Barney again.

“Why? What’s the matter?” There was a sudden, unaccustomed sharpness to Angie’s voice.

“Nothing. Just leave me alone.”

Instead, Angie opened the door and came in. She was hesitant, but not in quite the same way as usual.

“Kate—did anything happen last night?”

As if she didn’t know. How could she not know?

“Kate, answer me.”

“No. Nothing happened.” Kate turned to the wall, away from her mother’s worried eyes.

“I heard your father yelling. He didn’t come to bed last night. As far as I know he’s still in that room over the garage. Did … did you have a fight?”