Three Women (16 page)

Evan hefted it dubiously. “Exit? Bang bang, an emergency measure? Is that why you brought the damned thing?”

“No, man, it gives us a chance. That's our ticket to California.”

Elena hated guns, but she didn't speak. She would sound like a wimp.

 

Elena and the boys spent a week in Denver, arguing about what they should do. The money was going. “We could always rob a gas station or a convenience store,” Chad said. “People do that all the time.”

“That doesn't make it right!” Elena said with a fierce conviction that surprised even her. “You can't go sticking a gun into the face of some guy who's just pumping gas. Just an ordinary working guy. That's not right!” It could have been Suzanne talking, she knew it, but she couldn't help her upbringing. Or Grandma Beverly, who was as cool a grandma as anybody ever had. Elena couldn't condone casual crime committed against ordinary people just for money.

“I never thought there was any use having a gun along,” Evan said.

“It's a way out,” Chad said. “I won't go back. I'll never go back.”

Evan shrugged. “Don't be so dramatic. If we're ever going on to California, it should be before all our money runs out. Maybe we should just take a frigging bus as far as we can go.”

Chad grimaced. “I hate buses. They stink.”

“Well, do you just want to stay here until our money's all gone?” Evan demanded.

Sometimes she hated Chad. They were out here because of him. Okay, she was scared for Suzanne to find out she was flunking physics, but Suzanne wasn't about to do anything more than guilt-trip her and make up some stupid punishment, like doing the dishes for two weeks straight. But Chad had all these complications, like his mother he wasn't supposed to see and his father who wanted to send him to military school and he suffered all the time at the top of his lungs. He'd bullied them into coming. They had just been daydreaming about it like kids would talk about setting fire to the school or robbing a bank or a beer truck. It was like imagining you were Batman or something. It was like getting high. When it was over, you were still home and everything was the same. But here they were a couple of thousand miles from home and a mile high in a city that felt terribly dry and made her heart pound when she ran up the stairs at the hotel. They were dirty and had no nice clothes. The beds were awful and the mattresses were lumpy and smelled of stale urine. Her face was breaking out, which just never happened to her. It was all the greasy food, her mother was right. Too many french fries did ruin your skin. There was a special shampoo she used at home
she didn't even see in the drugstore here. It made her hair shine. Now her hair hung there dull and limp. She didn't even have a hair dryer to blow it out the way she wore it. No wonder when she saw herself in a mirror or a shop window, she just didn't want to look. She worried about Big Boy, that Rachel and Suzanne wouldn't give him his medicine twice a day and would forget to get the special food he needed from the vet.

Evan was getting grumpy, her Evan who was always above the fray. The situation was out of his control. He knew it, she knew it, and neither of them liked it. She liked it better when Evan ran things, when it was his ideas they followed—although it was Evan's stupid desire to fuck Chad that had got them into this mess to begin with. When they all had sex now, she didn't come. She was too angry. She lay there bored and a little sore. Mostly Evan wanted to fuck Chad and Chad wanted to fuck her, and they both wanted it too often to suit her. Chad was always wanting to try new positions with his feet in her face or her straddling a chair that was uncomfortable anyhow. Lately whenever she peed, it burned. The guys were so noisy together they gave her a headache. If she could only be alone sometimes, quiet, peaceful.

She wished they would just lay off her until they got to California. She saw the golden state in her mind, beaches, orange groves, cable cars, movie stars, waves rolling in. If they could only finally get to California, everything would be better. Chad had friends there who'd help them. They would be okay. They would all live in a little shack on the ocean and get brown and happy together. In the meantime, she felt like they insisted on sex all the time because they were bored shitless, the same as her.

“Pack up. We're going,” Chad announced suddenly, clapping his hands together. “Let's move on out.”

Everything they had, what little it was, fitted into the backpack Elena always wore, only now Evan kept it on his back. They sneaked out, because they owed the desk for the last night. Elena had been sent down to give him a story about how they were waiting for money to come. He'd leered at her but said he'd give them until the next day at noon. It was evening. They took a bus to a mall where they ate burgers and ice cream.

Elena didn't know what Chad had in mind and she was sure Evan didn't either, but both of them were scared to ask. Maybe if she knew,
she'd have to try to stop him, and then what would they do? They were running out of options. It had seemed to her before they left that they had so much money. She had taken three hundred dollars out of the savings account set up for college. The check had to be cosigned by Suzanne and her, but Evan was expert at forging Suzanne's signature. He had been doing it on absence excuses for two years.

Food used up money fast. Gas, when they had had the car. It had needed a lot of gas. “If we do get a car,” Elena said, “it shouldn't be so gaudy, so conspicuous. And it shouldn't use so much gas.”

“I better check the consumer's guide ratings on gasoline consumption before I lift us some wheels. And don't you care about emissions standards? We shouldn't like drive a car that pollutes,” Chad said, slapping her butt. She hated when he did that, and he knew it.

They walked around the mall until the traffic thinned out. Finally Chad saw what he was waiting for. A guy pulled up in a dark blue Ford Taurus. His girlfriend was waiting in the passenger's seat while he ran into the liquor store. He left the engine running.

Chad yanked open the door on the passenger's side. “Out.” He shoved the gun into her neck.

“Don't hurt me!”

“Don't scream, or I'll shoot. I don't want you, just the car. “He pulled her out. “Evan, drive.” Evan flung the backpack behind him and fumbled for the parking brake.

Chad motioned Elena into the backseat, and they lurched off. “Okay. Elena. Where do we go?”

“Turn right at the light.” She turned on the overhead and looked at the map Evan had bought. “Okay, just keep going. We're heading for the interstate.”

They drove all night. Before they climbed into the mountains, they had to buy gas. “That jerk had less than a quarter of a tank. I used to know this guy who never put more than a quarter tank in his wreck at once, because he always thought it was going to die on him.” Chad sounded almost cheerful. The tapes in the car were country western crap, and Elena threw them out the window as they roared upward. The one tape she kept was Kiss, who were okay. It was an old tape but it had “Partners in Crime.”

She finally got her turn at the wheel. Evan tried to stay awake to talk
to her but he dozed off, his head against the passenger seat window. She drove just five miles over the speed limit, the way Suzanne always did. They didn't want to be stopped by police. She had a brief fantasy that they would be, and then she could go home and take a real bubble bath and change her clothes and sleep in her own clean bed with Big Boy. But she didn't want them to get caught while she was driving. The guys had waited all this time to finally let her drive, so she wasn't about to fuck up.

She drove on through the dark shapes of the mountains, the engine straining sometimes. She had to turn on the heater, it got so cold in the car. She could see patches of snow and then more snow to either side of the car. Then white banks of snow hemmed them in. In the headlights of oncoming trucks, she saw a whole winter of snow around them. Then finally they were coming down and down. The snow disappeared and the sky began to lighten over the mountains behind them. She was tired now but she wouldn't admit it. She gripped the wheel hard. Chad was snoring in back. Evan lay against the windows, his head at an awkward angle as if his neck were broken. What was going to become of them all? Suppose they did get to California? So what? Kiss was singing “Nowhere to Run,” which matched her mood.

Still, she had flown through the dark. She had driven all night and her exhaustion was like a drug singing in her veins. There was no going back now. They were across the first high mountains and she would never be the same again. She had come into a new country of the damned. She was not who she had been, but new and dangerous and desperate. They had stolen this car, they had stolen their new life. They were real criminals now, outside the law, outside the prefabricated flat lives she scorned. She loved them both passionately, Evan, who was a part of her, and Chad whom they both adored and who ruled them like the sun, as they turned about his fire and ice. Her desire for him slowly returned as she drove on into the pasty predawn, the air like congealed grease around them. He had been right to yank them out of their boring lives and turn them loose. On to California, where they would live together and there would be no one else they would have to please—only themselves, only each other. They would be free—together.

Twelve Years Earlier

Elena

Elena said, “So what's going to happen in California, when we get there?”

They were camping in the desert under a sky that had more stars than she had ever seen. They were partway across Nevada. They had got gas in Elko and got back on 80. In Battle Mountain, they bought Cokes from a machine. The last time they ate was in Utah. They were scared to get out of the car in a town, scared to go into a fast-food place or a restaurant. They were trying to make the money last and trying to avoid being seen, because they were sure they were wanted now. The night was cold. She had her jacket but she was still chilled through, pressed against Evan's bony side. He had been increasingly silent all day. Now he spoke up. “Yeah, Chad, what's in California?” There was an undertone of confrontation in his voice.

“Nothing,” Chad said. “But wouldn't you like some real honest nothing?”

“What does that mean?” Elena asked.

“What do you think of your life so far?”

She laughed harshly. “Shit. Pure endless shit.”

“What do you think the rest of your life will be?”

“Shit. Pure boring shit.”

“So?” Evan huddled farther into his clothes. “What do you propose?”

Chad was quiet for perhaps five minutes. The stars were huge over them, like animals in the indigo sky. Not all of them were white. As she lay back staring at them, she could see blue and yellow and red. It was as if they were in outer space looking around. It did not feel like earth. She felt as if they had left behind everybody else, and there was no one alive, really alive, except the three of them who were one unit, one self. She touched the stud in her nose, a sign of their union, that
their bodies belonged to each other as their souls did. It felt as if they were on the moon, or some asteroid private to them.

“I think we should go as far as we can, because it's fun and we're together, and it's the best game I ever played. But if they're going to catch us, or the money runs out and we're at the end of our game, then we should end it.” He clapped his hands together, a sharp report like a small explosion.

“You think we should kill ourselves,” Evan said.

“Some combination of that,” Chad said calmly. “I'm not going back to my old man. I'm not going to let him destroy my mother and put me in military school. I'd rather die. It's that simple.”

Evan was silent, tense. She could feel his body drawn into itself, coiled. She did not want to speak until he did. She felt calm about the idea of killing herself. It sounded curiously neat and soothing. She could imagine how sorry Suzanne and Rachel would be for the way they had treated her.

“Of course, if you're scared…” Chad said. “It takes nerve.”

She could imagine how impressed all her classmates would be. She would go from slut to heroine. She would be a story no one would forget. That's how it was, if you really did it.

“I've thought about it,” Evan said. “Ever since I can remember, I've thought about it. But then I used to think all the time about flying.”

“You couldn't fly,” Chad said softly. “But you can walk out that door.”

“There's always that,” Evan said.

She tried to imagine it. Like a huge orgasm. A crashing into sleep. She thought of what Suzanne would say, and how her sister would cry and cry. Everyone would think how mean they had been to her, and they would feel guilty. Suzanne would think how she had yelled at Elena about the dishes and her room and smoking and grades and clothes and her tattoo. Suzanne would really be sorry, but it would be way, way too late. After the assembly in school, counselors would come in to tell the kids it was all right, but nobody would think so, not the adults, not the kids. A month later, some other kids would kill themselves in homage. A copycat suicide. But theirs would be unique. “We can't let them catch us and put us in jail,” she said aloud.

Evan said, “We're underage.”

“I'm not,” Chad said. “I'm sixteen. I'd go to jail. But I won't.”

At dawn, he showed them all how to load and fire the gun. It hurt Elena's ears. It really hurt. But she learned to hold the gun.

“It isn't like you have to be a good shot,” Chad said. “It isn't like you're trying to hit a target forty feet away.” He held the gun to his temple, and Elena thought for a moment he was going to do it right then.

“I'm hungry,” Evan said. They had hardly slept all night. “Do we have anything left to eat?”

“We'll stop in the next town. We need gas anyhow,” Elena said and began walking toward the car. She did not want to die, not particularly. Not right then, anyhow. Later. Now the wind was fresh and cold as a fish's belly and the east behind them was a lemon stripe at the horizon. It was strange how in the desert, she thought of the sea. The mountains she was staring at looked near, but they had driven until well after dark across the desert surrounded by ridges of mountains they climbed and then descended and back onto the desert again. She felt like an ant crawling over a bedspread. But she did not care. She walked in the middle, with her arms around each of them.

“If they catch us,” Evan said, “they'll separate us.”

“Of course,” Chad said. “But we belong together.”

“We're a set,” Elena said happily. “A family. A unit.”

“Don't call us by nasty names like family,” Chad said, slapping her butt. “We're loving to one another. My father never loved anyone but himself and expensive whores and expensive cars. Never. We're not a family, we're a little tribe. A tribe of three.”

“I don't think I ever loved anyone but a spaniel I had named Audrey, my grandmother, who died when I was twelve, and you guys,” Evan said. “My grandmother was so warm I always wanted to be with her, but my parents could barely stand her. She had an accent. They called her ignorant, when she spoke five languages.”

“Whatever we are,” Chad said, “we stay together. If we need to, we die together.”

 

They had driven for maybe half an hour. A police car had passed them going the other way right after they pulled out onto the highway, but it didn't seem to pay them any mind. It wasn't really light yet, just gray dawn with the sun not yet up over the last mountain range behind them
and the sky still dark ahead, westward where they were going. Elena was curled up in the backseat, using the blanket that they had found in the trunk. Chad was driving and Evan was sitting beside him. Then they saw a police car coming behind them with its lights rotating. They couldn't hear the siren. No cars were in sight before them, just a couple of trucks on the other side of the highway. Chad stepped on it, but the police car was gaining on them, still far behind but getting bigger as she knelt on the seat facing backward. “I wish we had the fucking BMW,” he muttered.

Suddenly Chad swerved off the highway. The car spun around, rocked as if it would go over but then finally came to a halt facing back toward the police car still getting bigger. Chad pulled the gun out of his jacket. “This is it,” he said. “I'll go first. Then, Evan, take the gun, do Elena and then yourself.”

Evan made a noise that sounded like a yeah, but he was probably as scared as she was. She felt a weird elation and total panic at once. This was it, like Chad said. The end. The finish. The final scene in the movie. She imagined music and she wished they had the tape deck on.

Chad was facing away from her toward the police car. She saw him lift the gun and put it to his temple. There was a noise so loud she bit her tongue. Her head rang and her eyes dripped tears. Then she felt something wet and slimy on herself. She looked down. It was his blood, and some gray matter like snot. “His brains,” she screamed. “His brains are all over me!”

Chad slumped forward over the wheel with part of his head gone and blood and brains all over her and the seat and the window. It was horrible, not at all the way she had imagined. He had turned into garbage. She pawed at herself, but she could not bear to touch the stuff. She realized that Evan was screaming. He had blood all over him. Chad had fallen on him and he was frantically pushing him away.

She opened the door and stumbled out, vomiting. It was a dry vomit because they hadn't eaten for twelve hours. But she kept heaving, bent over and then rising to her feet and staggering onward. She was coughing and crying and trying to vomit but on her feet because she had to get away from that thing in the car, she had to escape it.

The police car had slowed down and was pulling off about thirty feet away from them. Two state patrolmen got out, one from each side, and
started toward them. She stared at them as she lurched forward and it seemed to her as if she were traveling toward them and gazing at them for minute after minute. One was taller and wore sideburns like Elvis. The other was stockier and had light curly hair that reminded her of Rachel. It felt as if she was moving ever so slowly toward them and they were staring at her as if she was something fierce and wild, like a bear. Then they both looked past her. Evan got out of the front passenger's seat. He had taken the gun but it hung loosely in his hand.

“What are you doing with that?” she screamed at him. “Are you really going to shoot me?”

Evan didn't say anything. His mouth was hanging open and he looked as if he might throw up too. Chad had fallen half out of the open door, blood all over him. The cops were coming toward them. “Drop the gun,” one of them shouted. “Put the gun down. Put your weapon down on the ground now! Then raise your hands. Put your weapon on the ground.” They had their guns trained on Evan. One cop had dropped to a knee and held his gun in front of him in both hands. The other was still coming forward, also holding his gun out with both hands. Evan just kept staggering toward them. Then he made some kind of gesture. She was sure he was raising his hands to surrender, but he still had the gun and the cop in front shot, then the other trooper. The gun in Evan's hand went off as he was hit, but the shot just went into the earth. Shot after shot. She could not tell who was shooting, but she saw Evan jerk and spin. Then he went down. She ran to him. The cop was on her and grabbed her and pushed her against the car. She was screaming. She did not even feel herself slam into the metal.

She heard the cop who had shot Evan say, “He's dead.” At first she thought he meant Chad. But she kept screaming. She couldn't stop. She didn't think she would ever stop. They had shot Evan, who hadn't wanted to die, who hadn't had any intention of shooting her or them or anybody, anybody at all. Who was just so freaked-out at what Chad had done, for real, that he wasn't even aware he was holding the gun. They had shot him dead. She waited for them to shoot her too. Why should she care?