“Gary, I don’t want to go into this marriage thing under false pretences. This may mean nothing, or it may mean a potful of trouble. If you want out, I’ll release you from whatever promises we’ve made.”
Gary stared at Penny. Want out? That was the last thing he wanted. She was so serious about it. He stood up and took her in his arms. “I don’t want out. I want you. I love you.”
He noticed that she was crying. “I hope you’re not crying because you want out.”
“No,” she managed to say between sobs. “No. I never want out.” She buried her face in his shoulder.
Alfred looked at his watch. It was almost six o’clock. Whatever hope he had nurtured that Gary would be coming back to the office had evaporated like water on a hot sidewalk. Not only was he not coming back, Alfred would bet anything that he and Penny were leaving on their trip tomorrow, even though tomorrow was Friday.
Alfred had spent all afternoon sitting in his car in the crowded IBM parking lot. Other cars had come and gone constantly, driven by well-groomed young men in blue suits and rep ties and young women in blue skirts and jackets. This must be some sort of sales office.
With his beard, hair that hadn’t been cut for too long, khakis, and old sweatshirt, he felt as out of place here as a mongrel at a dog show. He kept himself scrunched down in the front seat, hoping nobody would notice him. Even though he had seen a couple of other Volkswagens, if Gary’s car had pulled into the lot, he would have spotted it instantly, because he had recorded the license plate information the first time he had seen Penny get into the car at her apartment.
He opened his glove compartment and pulled out a picture of Penny. He had cut it out of their high school yearbook and pasted it on a piece of cardboard. She was wearing a cheerleader uniform consisting of a sweater and skirt, with a large F on the front of the sweater. One of her hands was raised high in the air, and she was smiling at him.
As he gazed at the black-and-white picture, Alfred saw it in color. Penny’s skirt was light blue, and her sweater was yellow. The F on the sweater was the same blue as the skirt. The green grass of the football field filled the background. Penny’s cheeks were pink, and her smile enticed Alfred and told him she belonged to him. His hand went under his shirt and played with his bellybutton. This went on for several minutes until reality interfered, in the form of bodily needs.
He desperately had to pee, and he was thirsty and starving. Leaving his car in the lot, now almost empty, he walked across the street to a restaurant. It wasn’t busy, so he was able to get a booth all to himself after he went to the restroom. He ordered a hamburger and iced tea and contemplated his next move. How many apartment buildings were there in Monterey Park-one hundred? Two hundred? Or more? How could he narrow it down?
What had Penny told her roommate about Gary’s apartment at their Sunday morning breakfasts, other than the location? Think, Alfred. He sipped his tea and tried to think. The rays of the late August sun had heated the interior of his car, making him sleepy, and numbing his brain. He had been sitting in a solar oven.
He concentrated on the Sunday morning restaurant setting and conjured up Penny’s voice. Hadn’t she said one time that Gary lived in a new building? Alfred had brought a map of the East Los Angeles area into the restaurant. He laid it flat on the table of his booth and focused on Monterey Park. How many streets would he have to cover looking for a new apartment building?
Alfred drove south on Atlantic Avenue, feeling the agony of defeat. He couldn’t remember how many new-looking apartment buildings he had stopped at, how many parking lots he had walked through, how many streets in front of apartments he had paced, looking for either Penny’s car or Gary’s car. A few buildings had underground parking with locked gates in front of them. There was nothing he could do about them. However, he seriously doubted that Penny’s car would be parked underground since she was a visitor.
What else could he do? Hope was gone. Story of his life. He would return to Lomita and beg Keith for his job back. Keith would give it to him because he was a good worker. Maybe he could even get something going with Stephanie. Maybe Stephanie was just shy and that was the reason she didn’t talk to him. If he couldn’t win her with his looks, he would impress her with his personality.
He passed a building on his right that he hadn’t noticed before. It was on a hill above street level. It looked new, and it looked like an apartment building. Alfred swung a U-turn on the almost-deserted avenue and drove back to the intersection he had just gone through. The entrance to the building-or perhaps several buildings-was on the side street.
Alfred parked on the street and walked up the driveway into the complex. The gray stucco buildings had apartments on several levels, reached by outside stairways. He walked through the big parking area, dimly lit by a few spotlights. Most of the cars were parked under several long roofs. After ten minutes he spotted Gary’s car. He became excited. Then he calmed down. It was a small victory, but now he had to find Penny’s car. To make sure she was here with Gary. That took another ten minutes, but he found it, parked in the unreserved section.
His elation was short-lived. Now what should he do? There was no connection between parking slots and the apartments. He wasn’t even sure which building Gary’s apartment was in. There was only one thing he could do. Wait until they came out in the morning. If they were leaving on their trip, that might be early.
Alfred’s Timex said two-thirty. In the morning. Had he been searching that long? No wonder he was exhausted. His car was on the street near the only entrance to the parking area. He would sit in his car and wait for one of their cars to come out. Then he would follow it.
If he followed them and they were leaving on a trip, he would need some things. Clothes. A toothbrush. He couldn’t risk driving back to his apartment. That must be close to thirty miles one way. They might leave before he returned. Fortunately, he had all his money with him, hidden under his seat. He didn’t trust banks.
No, he had to wait here. He settled into his car, trying to get comfortable. Not too comfortable. He didn’t want to fall asleep. He opened the front window, letting in the cool night air. That would keep him awake.
CHAPTER 4
If the distinctive engine roar hadn’t jogged his brain, Alfred might have slept blissfully on. The harsh noise of the Volkswagen accelerating in first gear woke him with a jerk. As he struggled to open his rebellious eyes and sit up from the prone position he had slid into after failing in his effort to stay awake, he caught a glimpse of Gary’s car, headed down the short hill toward Atlantic Avenue.
Alfred fumbled for the key to his Ford, his hand shaking. It was in the ignition. He managed to grasp and turn the key, and he heard the engine crank and catch. Simultaneously, he adjusted his stiff limbs to the driver’s position, blinking his eyes to dissipate the mist in front of them.
He failed to check his rearview mirror before pulling away from the curb, but fortunately, nobody was approaching from behind at this early hour. As he started down the hill, he saw the green VW make a left turn onto Atlantic. Gary was heading north toward the San Bernardino Freeway. That just about clinched it. He and Penny had to be leaving on their trip. If Gary were going to his office at IBM, he would have turned right on Atlantic.
Alfred had to stop for the traffic light at Atlantic. A quick glance at his watch told him that it was barely six-thirty. The sun had been up for an hour, but it felt like the middle of the night. The odds were overwhelming that Gary was going to get on the freeway, but in which direction?