She had actually spoken to Joe. And had a plan.
She pulled out into the traffic and drove west instead of south in case she was being followed. Could they have put a tracking device on this car? She spent several minutes convincing herself that was unlikely. Okay, think, she told herself.
Her pursuers would realize the location she and Joe had agreed upon would have to be within a day’s drive of Houston. They would be alerting the highway patrol and local law-enforcement agencies. She forced herself to think of the maze of highways and roads in Texas. Of the hugeness of Texas. And allowed herself to believe that it just might be possible. But she had to be clever. And she was too exhausted for clever. Too exhausted and hungry.
They were expecting her to head south into Texas, which eventually she would have to do. But not right away.
She would take her time. Let the searchers get in front of her.
She drove north, avoiding the main thoroughfares. She wound her way through an area where there were stately old mansions as large as hotels, and even farther north, past gated communities with brand-new mansions. She drove carefully, ever mindful of speed limits and stop signs.
Not wanting to waste gas, rather than driving around aimlessly she made frequent stops, pulling into a parking space and just sitting there for a time. She stopped at a service station to use the restroom and buy a sandwich and a bottle of orange juice. Twice she stopped to feed Billy and give him some time out of the infant carrier. Finally, keeping to secondary roads, she began winding her way south, continually checking her rearview mirror.
When darkness finally came, she filled the almost empty gas tank, bought a couple of candy bars, filled the empty orange juice bottle with water, then headed south on a county road several miles east of Interstate 35. Soon it was late enough that she had the rural roads pretty much to herself. When the moon rose, she turned off her headlights for long stretches, not exactly sure why, except that it made her feel invisible. She knew from her drive across the western half of the state that its county roads were laid out in one-mile squares, and she would go south for a time, then east, then south again, until she had to maintain an eastern course around sprawling Lake Texoma. She bypassed the town of Durant, then began winding her way south again until finally she turned south onto Highway 78.
Given her meandering path, it was almost dawn before she crossed the Red River into Texas. She knew that she had to sleep for a while. When she stopped for gas in Ridings, she studied the Texas map on the wall, then asked the elderly attendant if she could pull behind the building to nurse her baby and rest for a time. When he didn’t respond, she asked him again in a louder voice, and he nodded.
The clock in the car didn’t work, and she had left her watch in the apartment, but when she woke, she estimated by the sun that it was midmorning. Arriving at her destination by noon was out of the question. But hopefully she would be there by dusk.
Still keeping to country roads, she headed south once again, ever watchful even though she hadn’t a clue as to the form her enemy would take. She wondered if she would ever feel safe again. The word itself sounded elusive, like something at the end of a rainbow, something she might wish for but never achieve.
Now that she was in the state of Texas, however, she did allow herself to wonder what it would be like to see Joe again. She hoped that she could at least clean up a bit before she made her way to their meeting place.
Then what?
She knew that he would help her. That was the kind of person he was. And perhaps it was best not to go beyond that. If she didn’t allow herself to expect more, she would not be disappointed.
That was hard to do, though.
Texas was not laid out in precise squares like Oklahoma, and she had to be careful not to lose her way as she endeavored to keep to rural roads. Early afternoon, she crossed over Interstate 30, which she knew connected Dallas to southern Arkansas. A couple of hours later she crossed Interstate 20, which connected Dallas to Shreveport.
The motor began to overheat south of the town of Athens.
She stopped at a service station and sprayed water on the radiator then drove very slowly into Corsicana. She parked the car near the bus station and gathered up her baby and her few possessions.
The bus didn’t leave until the morning. After she bought a ticket to Brenham, she had just enough money to buy a banana and two candy bars. She filled the bottle with water in the restroom.
The bus station closed at five.
She walked around for a time then returned to the car. She sang to Billy and played with him for as long as he was willing then nursed him to sleep. Whenever a car drove by, she ducked out of sight. She waited until dark to eat the first of the candy bars. For the second time she had not been at the meeting place. And she wasn’t going to be there tomorrow, either. But Joe had promised to keep returning until she arrived. She clung to that promise.
The night was endless. Every muscle in her body ached with fatigue and discomfort.
She ate the banana for breakfast.
The bus arrived in Brenham just before noon. She described the place she wanted to find to the ticket agent. “It’s a very old cemetery where some of the area’s first settlers are buried.”
“That would be the Independence cemetery,” the woman told her.
“How do I get there?” Jamie asked.
“Just head up the street here to Chapel Hill and take a left. Chapel Hill runs into 105 which will take you to 50. There’s no town to speak of anymore. Just look for Old Baylor Park. The cemetery is near there.”
“How far?”
“’Bout ten or twelve miles, I’d say, but there isn’t a bus.”
Jamie had planned to walk anyway. She didn’t have the money for a ticket if there were a bus.
A block from the bus station, she left the cumbersome infant carrier in a Dumpster and put Billy in the sling.
She reminded herself that she used to think nothing of running ten or twelve miles. All she had to do now was walk. But it was already warm. And she was exhausted. And she had a baby slung across her middle.
Climbing even the gentlest of hills left her breathless and sweating. And Billy was restless. She stopped several times, seeking out a shady, private spot where she nursed him, with no sense at all of how long it had been since the last feeding.
She ate the second candy bar a bite at a time and rationed her water. There were no service stations, no buildings at all except for an occasional farmhouse at the end of a winding lane. The sole of her left shoe came loose and made walking difficult. She tore a strip from the baby blanket she was using to shade Billy from the sun and tied the shoe back together.
I can do this, she told herself repeatedly, the words becoming a mantra. Several times a vehicle would slow as the driver considered asking her if she wanted a ride, but she would square her shoulders, stare straight ahead, and turn her dragging step into a marching gait.
The road signs told her that she was nearing Independence. She stopped at a large gardening establishment to ask for directions to the cemetery. A woman watering rose bushes pointed the way and filled her water bottle. “You all right, honey?” she asked.
“Fine,” Jamie said with all the brightness she could muster. “It was just farther than I thought.” Then she asked the woman what time it was and was on her way.
The water helped.
She passed by four stately stone columns in a grove of trees with a sign that said OLD BAYLOR PARK. A half mile or so past that sign was another for McCrocklin Road. A mile or so beyond that McCrocklin ran into Coles Road, just like the woman watering the roses had said.