“Oops,” said Dash, then giggled.
I opened my mouth to ask, “See what yet?” but my kneecaps reminded me that, ahem, silence was golden.
The sheriff grabbed up the microphone again. “Nova, darlin’, you there?”
“Of course I am, where else would I be?”
“I think I just screwed up.”
“Oh, dear. What have you gone and done?”
He told her. There were several moments of silence, and then Nova said, “Well, now, that doesn’t sound all that bad. You just hold on and I’ll get right back to you.” “Will do.” He glanced in the rearview mirror at me. “May be that we’ll have a change of plans.” I mimed unzipping my mouth. “I think he wants to ask you something,” said Dash. “He can talk.”
“You know I didn’t take those memorials, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And I sure as hell didn’t give that girl a ride or a beer. Especially not light beer.” “There a point you’re getting to?” “Yeah—why all the bullshit and brouhaha?” “Needed to make sure you’d come along peacefully.”
“Why not just ask me?” “Wasn’t sure you’d say yes.” “And if I hadn’t?” “Then we’d’ve had to resort to the bullshit and brouhaha, anyway. Just seemed easier to go with the sure thing.”
I looked at Dash, who offered a shrug that said, Older brothers, what’re you gonna do?
I leaned forward against the front seat. “You said something about a ‘change’ of plans? Would you mind telling me what the original plan was supposed to be? For that matter, what the hell was that girl doing back there, gathering up all those memorials? And how is it that this goddamn cruiser can drive itself? Now that I think of it, where am I, exactly? I’m not supposed to be anywhere near my destination. And what is it with everyone and—” “You know what?” said the sheriff. “I changed my mind. Shut up or I’ll shoot you.” “No, you won’t.” He turned around and shot me.
There was a lot of confusion right after that, what with the too-bright muzzle-flash, the gargantuan noise made by the shot in the enclosed space, and me screaming like a castrato with flaming hemorrhoids. Grabbing my happy sacs—that’s where he’d aimed—I knew something had happened down there because I could smell the gunshot and feel the heat between my legs and God Almighty there was something wet under my hands but I was too busy screeching and waiting for the pain to register, then I caught a peripheral glimpse of Deputy Dash laughing his ass off and realized that the sheriff hadn’t shot me, he’d shot the portion of the seat between my legs, and what I was feeling beneath my hand wasn’t blood gushing out of the hole where my nuts had previously resided but plain old-fashioned urine.
“Good shot!” shouted Dash.
“Like hell!” yelled the sheriff. “I missed.”
“I’m sorry!” I screamed at him, my voice breaking on the second word. “Jesus Christ, I’m sorry! I didn’t…I didn’t mean anything.”
“Do you believe that I will shoot you?”
“Yes!”
“All right then.” He turned back, holstered his weapon, and took hold of the wheel once more.
I have no idea how long I cowered in the back seat with my knees pulled up against my chest, shaking and trying not to cry. I hate showing weakness in front of others. It gives them the upper hand and diminishes me in my own eyes.
Eventually, Dash leaned over and put his hand on my shoulder. I jumped at his touch and slammed the top of my head against the roof.
“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have laughed.”
All I could do was nod my head, and even that hurt like hell. “We can get you some clean pants and underwear,” said Dash. “…would be nice…” I heard myself whisper. Then the radio crackled and the dispatcher’s voice chimed in. “You still there, Hummer?” He grabbed the microphone. “Where else would I be?” “That’s my line, Sheriff.” “Sue me.”
“Touchy tonight, aren’t we?”
“Did you talk with Daddy Bliss?”
“No, I just missed the sound of your voice—of course I talked with him.”
“And…?” “And Daddy says, no worries. He wanted Driver to have the grand tour, anyway.” Hummer stared out at the road, saying nothing for a few seconds, looking confused. I leaned toward Dash. “Is that a nickname, ‘Hummer’?” “Nope.” Sheriff Hummer was still speaking to the dispatcher. “When’s the tour supposed to start?” “As soon as possible.” “Can we at least get him a change of clothes first?” “A change of clothes?” said Nova. “What did you—never mind. Sure thing. He can look through the wardrobe when he gets here.” “Call our ETA five minutes. Ciera’s right behind us with Road Mama.” “You want me to call Stick and tell him to hit the lights?” Hummer glanced in the rearview mirror toward me, then said, “Might as well.” “Oh, you’re gonna like this,” said Dash. “Ain’t everyone who gets to see Levegh Lane.” “Why’s that?” Deputy Dash shrugged. “We don’t get many visitors.” “So this is big deal, huh?” “Yep.” “Why…why do you call it that? Is there some significance to the name? Is that Daddy Bliss’s real name or something?””
Hummer answered this one: “It’s named after Pierre Levegh, a race car driver. Drove a Mercedes at Le Mans in 1955. In the third hour of the race, this Jaguar driver named Mike Hawthorn got a signal from his pit crew to stop for gas. He slowed down, but there was this Austin-Healey right on his ass, and it had to swerve to avoid him. A little ways behind, Levegh raised his hand to signal another car to slow the hell down. Levegh was going 150 miles per hour.” Hummer shook his head. “He never had a chance.
“Levegh slammed into the Healey and his car took off like a rocket, crashed into the embankment beside the track, hurtled end over end, and then just…disintegrated over the crowd. The hood decapitated a bunch of spectators. The engine and front axle cut through a bunch of people, splitting them in half. The car had a magnesium body, right, and that son-of-a-bitch burst into flames like a torch, burning dozens of others to death. The whole thing took maybe 12 seconds, but in that time 82 people were killed and 76 others were maimed.”
I blinked. “And you named a street after him?”
“That’s right. Levegh was a great man.”
“A great man,” said Dash.
Hummer nodded. “Only a truly heroic man could bring so many new members into Road Mama and Daddy Bliss’s family in a few brief seconds.”
Do I need to tell you exactly how anxious this little exchange made me? It finally sank in that I was trapped in a car with a couple of out-patients. If my luck held up, we’d soon be passing the Bates Motel.
I was so scared…but I was also damned if I was going to show it; at least, no more than I already had.
“You might want to sit up,” said Hummer. “Make sure you can get a good look out the window. You might not know it, but this a great honor, Daddy Bliss wanting you to see everything.”
I heard a distance buzzing noise, like a massive electrical grid warming up. Even through the vibration of the tires against the streets I could feel the deep, powerful thrum that rose in power with the pitch of the grid.