Meche glared at me.
The Road to El Marrow
Glottis got the Bone Wagon ready to roll, changing the oil and doing the other things he needed to do. Most of them, anyway. He was a little worried about the condition of the tires, for one thing, but there was nothing he could do about them at this time of night, and we had to get rolling right away. There was a garage at a road stop about half an hour out of Rubacava, on the main highway, and Glottis planned to do a more thorough job on the car there.
Olivia returned before Glottis had finished. Meche looked annoyed as Olivia walked in again, dropping a small case next to the car, then making a production out of sticking a cigarette into her holder and lighting it. She blew the first puff toward Meche and then shot a sly ‘grin’ in my direction.
When Glottis started putting away his tools, Olivia said, “These long trips can be so dull. Well, at least we’ll have plenty of time to catch up, won’t we, Manny?” She moved up close and nudged me with her hip.
“You can share a seat with me,” Meche said quickly, picking up Olivia’s case and flinging it into the passenger seat.
“Thanks,” Olivia said, walking over to the Bone Wagon again. As she brushed past Meche, I thought I heard her say ‘meow’ very softly.
“Are we about ready to go, carnal?” I asked Glottis, trying to change the subject. Whatever it was.
“In a minute. I can’t find my socket wrench.”
“The one in your hand?”
He turned a little purple. “Oh, yeah.” He put it in his toolbox and stowed it in the car. “Well, I guess were as ready as we’re gonna be.” He got behind the wheel.
I climbed up to my seat, the absurd ‘throne’ at the rear of the car, and Meche held up our coats.
“Here,” she said. “Keep these with you.” She kept her eye sockets fixed on Olivia until she got into the passenger seat and tucked her case under her feet. Meche followed, wedging herself in beside Olivia.
Glottis made sure we were all settled, then fired up the engine. “All right,” he crowed, “time to suck up some road!”
‘Gonna be a long trip,’ I thought as the Bone Wagon peeled out and sped through the sleeping streets of Rubacava.
Glottis kept to a moderate speed once we got on the highway. Moderate for him, that is. As we rolled along I could see him occasionally peer around at the wheels. That worried me a little, but I knew Glottis was a perfectionist. If he actually thought that the tires would lose their treads or blow out, we wouldn’t have been on the road at all.
It was just a little after three in the morning when we got to the stop we were aiming for. The garage was still closed, of course, so we all trooped into the diner. It was the first real meal Meche and I had for nearly a year, even counting the coffee and donuts we had at the temple. What food we had on the journey from Puerto Zapato was for Glottis since he was the only one who actually needed to eat, and there hadn’t been much of that. He pretty much pigged out in that diner, and who could blame him? When he finally finished, he leaned back in the booth with a sigh, a stupid grin on his face, and both hands on his newly-bulging belly.
I sank into a deep funk. This was how the trip from El Marrow had started all those years ago—an early morning stop in a greasy spoon, served by a tired and sullen waitress, with grim conversation about our situation. It was like going back in time. I wished I could. I’d tell Lola to stay the hell away from Rubacava. Meche saw the way I stared at the waitress doing busy work around the counter. She sighed quietly and gently patted my hand, but I pulled away. Olivia must have made the connection, too, because she kept quiet for a while.
When I finally came out of it, I distracted myself by getting Glottis to go into the details of what he needed done to the Bone Wagon. He was only too happy. Meche gave the recital her full attention.
Shortly before daylight came, the owner of the garage arrived and greeted Glottis with an enthusiastic “Dude!” I guessed they knew each other, probably from when Glottis had been cruising between El Marrow and Rubacava looking for Meche. Glottis told the grease monkey what we needed and they got to work on the Bone Wagon. Olivia wandered off for a while, saying she wanted to take a long walk to stretch her legs, while Meche and I spent the time lounging around the garage and the diner. I got to watching the traffic speed up and down the twin ribbons of asphalt.
“Hey, Meche,” I said after a while, “do you see anything funny about those cars going by?”
Meche looked over at the highway for a time, possibly just to be polite. “Not especially,” she finally said, turning a questioning look at me. “Why?”
“Well, where are they going?” I asked. “Most of them, I mean.”
She looked again. She shrugged. “El Marrow, I guess.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Kind of strange.”
“If you say so, Manny.”
I realized I wasn’t being all that clear. “Most people who are in El Marrow are there because they have no other choice,” I explained. “When I was there, most of the traffic was away from the city. Usually only people traveling on DOD business ever went the other way.”
Meche nodded. “I see your point,” she said. “So what’s different now, do you think?”
“No idea,” I admitted.
“But you’ve got suspicions, huh?” Meche shrugged. “Well, let’s go hang out near the pumps. When someone stops, we can ask them.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
“It’s too straightforward for you,” she said wickedly.
“Ouch,” I said. There was too much truth in her joke.
“Hey, what’s this?” she asked, pointing to something on my jacket.
“What?” I said, looking down. Her hand flew up and she poked me in the nose hole.
She jumped away as I made a grab for her. She ran, laughing, toward the pumps as I chased after. She jumped between them and, suddenly, stopped running. She shook her head sadly, kicked the dusty ground, and slowly walked back toward the garage. Playtime was apparently over.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, trailing in her sad wake.
“It doesn’t seem right, having fun, when all our friends are prisoners in that waiting room.”
“We’ll get ’em out,” I assured her.
“How can you be so sure?” she asked.
“Well, I can’t,” I admitted. “I’m just determined.”
“So’s that Salvador Limones you keep talking about. Tell me, how long has he been trying to fix things? And what makes you think you can just breeze into town and straighten everything out?” She sighed. “Your friend Paddy was in hiding. Alexi, Gunnar and Slisko seem to have disappeared. Maybe there is no LSA any more.”
“I don’t want to believe that,” I said.
“No one ever fed Cæsar to the lions,” she said softly.
“Well,” I grumbled, “aren’t you cheerful today.”
“I’m tired, Manny. Tired of running and hiding, fighting and giving up on fighting, and…” She trailed off.
“Yeah?” I snarled, but not really at her. “Well, I’m angry! I’m fed up with the whole damned mess, so Hector had better just watch out!” Meche looked at me for a moment in silence. I sensed some of her despair turn into something grim and hard.
A car slowed and turned off into the road stop. It pulled up to the pumps and the soul driving got out. Meche walked over as he started filling his tank. I followed.