Instead I played dumb and encouraged him to talk. “I’ve never been in one of these big babies before. Tell me how it works, will you?”
That set him off and I listened with half an ear while thinking about how I should tackle Phoenix. He demonstrated how he applied both power and steering to the treads simply by tilting the two speed bars, one in each fist, and then discussed the economy of letting the diesel run at constant speed while he fed power as needed to the two sides. I let him talk-my first need was a bath and a shave and a change of clothes, that was sure; else I’d be picked up on sight for suspected vagrancy.
Presently I realized he had asked a question. “I think I see,” I answered. “The Waterburies drive the treads.”
“Yes and no,” he went on. “It’s a diesel-electric hook up. The Waterburies just act like a gear system, although there aren’t any gears in them; they’re hydraulic. Follow me?”
I said I thought so (I could have sketched them)—and filed away in my mind the idea that, if the Cabal should ever need cruiser pilots in a hurry, freighter jacks could be trained for the job in short order.
We were going downhill slightly even after we left the canyon; the miles flowed past. My host pulled off the road and ground to a stop by a roadside restaurant and oil station. “All out,” he grunted. “Breakfast for us and go-juice for the gobuggy.”
“Sounds good.” We each consumed a tall stack with eggs and bacon and big, sweet Arizona grapefruit. He wouldn’t let me pay for his and tried to pay for mine. As we went back to the freighter he stopped at the ladder and looked me over.
“The police gate is about three-quarters of a mile on in,” he said softly. “I suppose that’s as good a spot to check in as any.” He looked at me and glanced away.
“Mmm . . . “I said. “I think I could stand to walk the rest of the way, to settle my breakfast. Thanks a lot for the lift.”
“Don’t mention it. Uh, there’s a side road about two hundred yards back. It swings south and then west again, into town. Better for walking. Less traffic.”
“Uh, thanks.”
I walked back to the side road, wondering if my criminal career was that plain to everyone. One thing sure, I had to improve my appearance before tackling the city. The side road led through ranches and I passed several ranch houses without having the nerve to stop. But I came presently to a little house occupied by a Spanish-Indian family with the usual assortment of children and dogs. I took a chance; many of these people were clandestine Catholics, I knew, and probably hated the proctors as much as I did.
The Senora was home. She was fat and kindly and mostly Indian by her appearance. We couldn’t talk much as my Spanish is strictly classroom quality, but I could ask for agua, and agua I got, both to drink and to wash myself. She sewed up the rip in my trousers while I stood foolishly in my shorts with the children making comments; she brushed me off and she even let me use her husband’s razor. She protested over letting me pay her but I was firm about it. I left there looking passable.
The road swung back into town as the freighter jack had said—and without benefit of police. Eventually I found a neighborhood shopping center and in it a little tailor shop. There I waited while the rest of my transformation back to respectability was completed. With my clothes freshly pressed, the spots removed, a brand-new shirt and hat I was then able to walk down the street and exchange a blessing with any proctor I might meet while looking him calmly in the eye. A phone book gave me the address of the South Side Tabernacle; a map on the wall of the tailor shop got me oriented without asking questions. It was within walking distance.
I hurried down the street and reached the church just as eleven o’clock services were starting. Sighing with relief I slipped into a back pew and actually enjoyed the services, just as I had as a boy, before I had learned what was back of them. I felt peaceful and secure; in spite of everything I had made it safely. I let the familiar music soak into my soul while I looked forward to revealing myself to the priest afterwards and then let him do the worrying for a while.
To tell the truth I went to sleep during the sermon. But I woke up in time and I doubt if anyone noticed. Afterwards I hung around, waited for a chance to speak to the priest, and told him how much I had enjoyed his sermon. He shook hands and I gave him the recognition grip of the brethren.
But he did not return it. I was so upset by that that I almost missed what he was saying. “Thank you, my boy. It’s always good news to a new pastor to hear that his ministrations are appreciated.” I guess my face gave me away. He added, “something wrong?”
I stammered, “Oh, no, reverend sir. You see, I’m a stranger myself. Then you aren’t the Reverend Baird?” I was in cold panic. Baird was my only contact with the brethren short of New Jerusalem; without someone to hide me I would be picked up in a matter of hours. Even as I answered I was making wild plans to steal another ship that night and then try to run the border patrol into Mexico.
His voice cut into my thoughts as if from a great distance. “No, I’m afraid not, my son. Did you wish to see the Reverend Baird?”
“Well, it wasn’t terribly important, sir. He is an old friend of my uncle. I was to look him up while I was here and pay my respects.” Maybe that nice Indian woman would hide me until dark?
“That won’t be difficult. He’s here in town. I’m just supplying his pulpit while he is laid up.”
My heart made a full turn at about twelve gee; I tried to keep it out of my face. “Perhaps if he is sick I had better not disturb him.”
“Oh, not at all. A broken bone in his foot—he’ll enjoy a bit of company. Here.” The priest fumbled under his robes, found a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote out the address. “Two streets over and half a block down. You can’t miss it.”
Of course I did miss it, but I doubled back and found it, an old vine-grown house with a suggestion of New England about it. It was set well back in a large, untidy garden-eucalyptus, palms, shrubs, and flowers, all in pleasant confusion. I pressed the announcer and heard the whine of an old-style scanner; a speaker inquired: “Yes?”
“A visitor to see the Reverend Baird, if he so pleases.”
There was a short silence while he looked me over, then: “You’ll have to let yourself in. My housekeeper has gone to the market. Straight through and out into the back garden.” The door clicked and swung itself open.
I blinked at the darkness, then went down a central hallway and out through the back door. An old man was lying in a swing there, with one foot propped up on pillows. He lowered his book and peered at me over his glasses.
“What do you want of me, son?”
“Light.”
An hour later I was washing down the last of some superb enchiladas with cold, sweet milk. As I reached for a cluster of muscatel grapes Father Baird concluded his instructions to me. “Nothing to do until dark, then. Any questions?”
“I don’t think so, sir. Sanchez takes me out of town and delivers me to certain others of the brethren who will see to it that I get to General Headquarters. My end of it is simple enough.”
“True. You won’t be comfortable however.”
I left Phoenix concealed in a false bottom of a little vegetable truck. 1 was stowed like cargo, with my nose pressed against the floor boards. We were stopped at a police gate at the edge of town; I could hear brusque voices with that note of authority, and Sanchez’s impassioned Spanish in reply. Someone rummaged around over my head and the cracks in the false bottom gleamed with light.
Finally a voice said, “It’s O.K . . . Ezra. That’s Father Baird’s handyman. Makes a trip out to the Father’s ranch every night or so.”
“Well, why didn’t he say so?”
“He gets excited and loses his English. O.K. Get going, chico. Vaya usted con Dios.”
“Gracias, senores. Buenas noches.”
At the Reverend Baird’s ranch I was transferred to a helicopter, no rickety heap this time, but a new job, silent and well equipped. She was manned by a crew of two, who exchanged pass grips with me but said nothing other than to tell me to get into the passenger compartment and stay there. We took off at once.