When the man shut off the engine and returned to the rear of the VW, Alfred said, “I think that fixed your problem. Do you want to take it for a test run?”
“We’ll be leaving after breakfast. That will give us plenty of time to test it. Gotta be heading back home. Thanks for your help.”
Alfred was glad he didn’t ask what the problem was. “You live in California?”
“Northern California. Crescent City, near the Oregon border.”
The woman who had been cooking breakfast had come over to stand beside her husband. She heard the part about the engine being fixed. She was plump, but she didn’t have a bad figure. A kindly face and short, nondescript hair of an uncertain drab color. Probably in her forties. She wore a sweatshirt that said, “I survived the big one.”
Now she said, “Bless you if you’ve fixed the problem. Don is so mechanically inept, he couldn’t tie his shoes if instructions didn’t come with the laces. He thinks the solution to the world’s problems is duct tape.”
“Now, Mattie, don’t start in.” The man frowned and spoke sharply.
“Where’s your campsite?” Mattie asked Alfred.
“Uh, it’s funny you should mention that. I guess…I guess I no longer have a campsite.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Don asked.
“Well, my wife and I were camped down the road a bit. Last night we had a fight. This morning I went to the restroom. When I returned, she was gone. Lock, stock, camping equipment, everything. Just took the truck and drove off.”
“You poor thing,” Mattie said. “How long have you been married?”
“About a year. The first few months were fun, but it’s gone downhill from there.”
“Well, come and have breakfast with us. It’s the least we can do since you fixed our engine. Don’t just stand there, Don, give-”
“Alfred.”
“Give Alfred a cup of coffee.”
“Hell yes,” Don said. “Mattie makes the strongest coffee you ever tasted. Do you take it black or do you adulterate it?”
“Black.”
“Good. We’re going to get along fine.”
Although Gary had done some writing in his time, it had been mostly journalistic reporting, when he was in school, and technical writing, both for school and his job with IBM. Thus he had a hard time finding words to describe the beauty of the Tetons while writing in the log.
Words like beautiful and gorgeous didn’t fill the bill. He needed a new vocabulary to tell about the soaring, snow-covered peaks that rose above the meadows and lakes and were reflected in the mirror-like surface of blue water. Gently waving grasses and the ubiquitous pine trees completed the picture.
Grand Teton Mountain, at a little under 14,000 feet, was just one of a number of peaks that lined the horizon. Gary had climbed some mountains, including a 14,000 footer in Colorado, but you needed training and a guide to climb Grand Teton. It was dangerous, otherwise. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
“Wow,” was all he could say to Penny as they drove the loop road, stopping often to drink in the view.
“This is the way I picture a paradise like that described in Lost Horizon,” Penny said. “A place where you would be perfectly happy and where the cares of the world couldn’t penetrate.”
“That sounds good to me. May I quote you in the log?”
“Only if you give me attribution.”
Mattie knew how to cook. Bacon, eggs, and coffee had never tasted so good to Alfred. It beat his own cooking all to heck. He gathered from what they said during breakfast that they were outdoorsy people who actually enjoyed roughing it in a campground. Don worked in a lumber mill, and Mattie was a nurse in Crescent City. They didn’t have any children.
“Where do you call home?” Mattie finally asked Alfred.
He had been working on an answer to that question. “Los Angeles. We’ve got an apartment not far from the beach. Of course, I don’t know whether I’ll be welcome there when I get back. First I have to get back.”
“You’re a long way from home,” Don said.
“Yeah, and I don’t have a lot of money.”
“Well, you know what,” Mattie said. “If it would help, why don’t you ride along with us to Crescent City?”
Don said, “Mattie-” Don said.
“No, it makes sense. You can sleep on the top bunk. You can be our resident mechanic. If anything goes wrong with this crate, you can fix it. And it’s a lot easier to take a Greyhound bus from Crescent City to L.A. than it is from here.”
Don glowered into the distance, but he didn’t say anything.
“That’s a very kind offer,” Alfred said, “but I couldn’t possibly impose on you. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I’ll find a way to get home.”
“Do you play backgammon?” Don asked.
He had played a little. At least he knew the rules. “Sure.”
“Okay, you can come with us. Mattie won’t play with me. She’s a good wife. Best cook I’ve ever known. And she’s a nurse-takes care of me when I’m sick. But she won’t play any damn games.”
“After taking care of patients and taking care of you, I’m too tired to play games.”
So that was settled. Alfred was elated. It had been easier than he had hoped. He knew that Penny and Gary were planning to drive down the coast, so they would be going through Crescent City. He would be their welcoming committee. There was another advantage to riding with Don and Mattie. It would ensure that he would make a clean getaway from here. There was no way his movements could be traced.
“Where are we going today?” Alfred asked after he had graciously accepted their invitation.
“We’re going to stay in the Tetons tonight,” Don said. “Most beautiful place in this whole fucked up world. And it’s on our way. Then we’ll hightail it home.”
Penny and Gary were eating dinner at their campsite in the Colter Bay Campground. A small black shrew played in the dirt nearby.
“Well, that’s the smallest mammal we’ve seen,” Gary said.
“Be sure to put that in the log.” Penny voiced the thought that had been worrying her more and more as bedtime approached. “Do you think we’ll be safe here?”
“I think so. The whole world’s looking for Alfred. How can he get away? If he steals a car, they’ll know who did it and figure he’ll be following us. The police have our route. They’ll keep him away from us. Maybe they’ve caught him already.”
Maybe, but somehow Penny didn’t think it was likely. He had given them the slip so far. He was smarter than she’d given him credit for, and he was certainly obsessed with her. Enough that he wanted to kill her because he couldn’t have her. He wanted to kill Gary, too, apparently because Gary did have her.
They had been shocked this morning when they saw the sleeping bag. The stuffing was coming out of the slits made by the knife that Alfred had wielded. What if they had been in the tent instead of the hotel? Penny shuddered at the thought. She didn’t hate Alfred. She was more puzzled by his actions than anything else. What had she done to lead him on? She had been nice to him in high school-but then she had been nice to everybody. She had barely seen him during the last six years.
She didn’t know whether she would sleep tonight. She had thought of asking Gary if they could stay at one of the lodges, but their supply of traveler’s checks was dwindling. She couldn’t go through life being afraid. Alfred couldn’t risk the noise of a gun, and he’d lost his knife. Even if he somehow found a way to get there, she knew the odds were stacked against him trying to attack them tonight. She was trying to think rationally, but rationality and emotion often didn’t see eye to eye.
She mentioned her fears to Gary.
“I’ll rig up some of our cups and utensils on a string and hang them from the front of the tent. If Alfred or anyone tries to get in they’ll hit each other and make a noise. We’ll hear it, and, hopefully, it’ll also scare him off.”