‘I was told you might be here, Dolly,’ Annalee said, ‘but I was still startled.’
‘Hardly blame ya,’ Dolly grunted. She looked down at Daniel, still pressed against his mother’s leg. ‘And your name’s Daniel, right?’
Daniel nodded once, quickly.
‘Did I scare you, too?’
Daniel answered with another nod, this one even quicker.
Dolly Varden squatted down in front of him and smiled. ‘I got to admit that when you two came driving up, scared me so bad I almost jumped plumb outa my skin and shimmied up the flue.’
Daniel buried his head behind Annalee, who reached down and lifted him into her arms.
Dolly stood up. ‘Well, now that we all had a good scare, I want you to get ready for another one.’ She turned around. The bottom half of her shift was soaked with blood. ‘You any good at first aid, honey?’ she said over her shoulder.
‘Not really,’ Annalee said, shuddering faintly at the sight.
Daniel felt the shudder, and twisted around in her arms to look at her face. ‘That’s blood,’ he said, as if reassuring her.
‘Well, don’t stand there gawking, you two. Boil water and tear petticoats. I don’t think it’s much, but I haven’t got a good look yet, seeing as how the bastard got me in the ass. Damn but my ass has taken a ton of punishment. Men, motorcycles, general kicking, and now buckshot. Fucking guards don’t use rock salt like the farmers did when I was just a freckle-faced filly raiding the pumpkin patch.’
Annalee set Daniel down and went in to start the stove. Dolly turned her back to Daniel and pulled the chemise over her head. Daniel stared. Dolly’s back and thighs were covered with tattoos, her panties torn and blood-soaked.
‘My mommy has one,’ Daniel said.
‘One what?’
‘Tattoo picture. A little one.’
Annalee, following the conversation from the stove, said, ‘I did it myself. It’s not very good.’
‘You must have been in deep to do it yourself.’
‘I was,’ Annalee said.
‘What is it? A lover’s name, a flower, an animal?’
‘A cross.’
‘Would’ve never guessed,’ Dolly said. She sounded faintly disappointed.
‘No, no – it’s not religious. It’s a twisted cross. They tried to humiliate me.’
‘Me too, honey,’ Dolly said with sympathy. ‘And now they shot me in the ass. How’s that water doing?’
‘Pretty soon.’
‘Does it hurt?’ Daniel said.
Dolly turned to face him, her large breasts swaying as she moved. ‘Some, but not terrible. Kind of a steady ache.’
‘I hit my leg with the ax one time. Not the sharp end, the other end. That hurt a lot.’
‘I bet it did.’
‘I cried and cried.’
‘I would too.’
‘You’re not crying now.’
‘Well, I probably will be in a few minutes,’ Dolly said.
‘You’re supposed to,’ Daniel said solemnly. ‘It helps it go away.’
When the water was ready, Dolly slipped off her panties, wincing, and laid face down on the bed. There was a narrow, ragged furrow across her left buttock.
Examining the wound, Annalee said, ‘Doesn’t look bad at all. But you appear to have lost a tattoo.’
‘My cherry,’ Dolly groaned.
Annalee giggled. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘It was my first and my favorite. Made me feel young and salty, know what I mean?’
Dolly’s buttocks clenched when Annalee touched the wound with the clean, wet towel. Daniel watched, fascinated.
‘Where’d you get it?’ Annalee said, hoping to distract her.
‘Going over the wall,’ Dolly said, her voice tight. ‘Wasn’t a tower guard, though – it was one of those bull bitches off the yard.’
‘No, I mean the tattoo.’
‘Oh. Had it done when I was about your age. In Oklahoma.’
‘That where you grew up?’
‘Yup. Near Carver, down in the southeast corner. In the thirties, that was still outlaw country. Never forget my first day in school the teacher told us, “If you come runnin’ and tell me about somebody doing bad, I’ll give him a fair switchin’ ’cause he did wrong, but I’ll whup on you till I can’t lift my arm no more, because the one thing I can’t abide is a snitch.” It was the kind o’ place––’ she flinched and quit speaking as Annalee reapplied the towel.
‘Well, you still have the stem and two green leaves,’ Annalee said absently as she wiped away blood.
‘Had a gal friend in the joint, Doris Kincaid, who said it wasn’t so bad if they got your cherry as long as they didn’t get the pit.’
‘What did you do down there in Carver?’
‘Mostly robbed banks. I rode with the first motorcycle gang in the country, the Bandits of Vermilion. I mean, we had class. We were like family. It wasn’t like it is now. Bikers these days got no heart. Take drugs and beat on the weak, dress grubby and act stupid – most of ’em are defectives. Look how they treat their women! You don’t treat nobody like that if you got a drop o’class.’
‘What’s vermilion,’ Daniel asked.
‘Brilliant red,’ Annalee answered.
Dolly lifted her head and looked back at Daniel. ‘We wore these long vermilion scarves,’ she explained. ‘Looked good.’
‘Did you kill people?’
Annalee cut in on Daniel’s question, telling Dolly, ‘I’m going to pack this with antibiotic ointment – it’s all we have – and then just tape a gauze pad over it. How’s that sound?’
‘You’re the doc,’ Dolly said.
‘Did you kill people?’ Daniel repeated impatiently.
‘Dammit Daniel!’ Annalee snapped. ‘Don’t harass us during surgery.’
‘It’s a fair enough question,’ Dolly said, sounding more resigned than irritated. ‘We were bank robbers, Daniel, not killers. We had guns, but we never loaded them. We did have to hurt a few people, but we didn’t like to do that – it was a matter of honor among us never to cause anyone pain if we could help it. That was my boyfriend’s idea, never loading the guns.’
‘Where’s your friend now?’
‘He’s dead. Wrecked his motorcycle on a frosty road.’
Daniel didn’t say anything.
Annalee ripped off two strips of adhesive tape and secured the gauze pad. ‘There it is,’ she said to Dolly. ‘I don’t have an M.D., but I’d say you’ll pull through.’
‘I reckon,’ Dolly said, her voice muffled against the pillow.
‘Let me see if I can dig out some panties to help hold the bandage.’ Annalee gave Dolly’s unwounded buttock a light pat as she rose and headed for the bedroom.
Daniel stepped closer to the bed and put his small hand on Dolly’s back, gently rubbing.
Dolly lifted her head and turned to give him a smile, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘My, ain’t you something,’ she said, quietly beginning to cry.
As they sat down to breakfast the next morning, a small blue plane buzzed the house.
‘That’s for us,’ Dolly said. ‘He’ll drop something on the next pass.’
Annalee went outside, Daniel scampering in front of her. They watched, hands shading their eyes against the low sun, as the plane banked slowly to the left and came back over, dropping a small silver cannister that bounced along the road and finally rolled to a stop behind the flatbed.
‘That was a great shot!’ Daniel enthused.
Annalee picked up the cannister and handed it to him. ‘You can carry it in to Dolly.’
They read the message together at the kitchen table: ‘H1M1142400. Beach. Walk. NoV.’
‘I hope you know what it means,’ Annalee said, ‘’cause I don’t have a clue.’
‘Highway 1, Marker 114, at 2400 hours,’ Dolly translated. ‘That’s midnight. Meet on the beach. Walk over. “NoV” means no vehicles. How far is it from here?’
‘Two miles maybe – an hour at the most. There’s an old saddle trail. But that’s just to the highway. I don’t know the highway marker.’
‘I’ll bet 114 is close to the trail. I guess I should leave around ten o’clock. You have a spare flashlight?’