The Trojan boy

The man turned his engine off and got out to hurry over to Kathleen. 'We'd best get you to a doctor as soon as possible,' he said after offering sympathy. Avedissian and the farmer helped Kathleen into the cab then Avedissian lifted up Harry and got in himself. It was a tight squeeze and very hot inside.

They rattled along the flat ribbon of road in the heat and with the smell of manure from the heavily contaminated wheel arches in their nostrils. Kathleen seemed close to losing consciousness and Avedissian took her head on his shoulder to whisper encouragement.

The boy doesn't look too well either,' said the farmer.

'He's just thirsty,' said Avedissian. 'We've been out in the sun a long time.'

The man reached down behind his seat and brought out a bottle of lemonade. He handed it to Avedissian saying, 'Give him some.'

Avedissian held the bottle to Harry's lips and saw him drink with relish. The slaking of his thirst brought about an almost immediate improvement in his demeanour. Avedissian handed the bottle back.

'Maybe your wife would like some? You too?' asked the man.

Kathleen took some, then Avedissian. The lemonade was warm but, in the circumstances, it tasted better than anything Avedissian could ever remember.

'Looks like you folks have been having a bad time.'

'Our car broke down.'

'I didn't see it back there,' said the farmer.

'We walked a good bit, trying to find somewhere,' said Avedissian.

'That's easy to do in these parts,' said the man.

Avedissian could see that they were approaching a small cluster of houses. 'Where are we?' he asked.

'Alta Vista,' said the man.

Even with all that he had on his mind Avedissian saw the name as being incongruous. Alta Vista, High View, the ground seemed absolutely flat for as far as the eye could see.

They stopped at a clapboard house on the very edge of town and the driver got out and hurried up to the door, while Avedissian helped Kathleen out and made sure that Harry was with them. An elderly man came out from the house with the farmer. Avedissian waited at the gate until he reached them.

'Doc Feldman,' said the man. 'Let's get her inside.'

Avedissian stood by while Feldman examined the bite on Kathleen's calf. 'How long?' he asked.

Avedissian looked at his watch. 'Fifty minutes. Do you have anti-serum here?'

'Should do. Marty said it was a pit viper?'

'I couldn't argue,' said Avedissian. 'I wouldn't know one from another.'

'English?'

'Yes.'

Feldman brought out a tray from his fridge containing several small brown bottles and extracted one of them. He read the label, holding the bottle at nearly arm's length, and said, 'This is the stuff.' He filled a syringe and asked Kathleen if she was having much pain. The expression on her face gave him his answer. 'It's going to last for a while yet but this is going to improve matters,' he said and then injected the anti-serum.

Kathleen was settled in bed in a ground floor room, prepared by Feldman's housekeeper, and Avedissian said to Feldman, 'I can't thank you enough.'

'It's my job,’ said Feldman. 'It has been for a long time.'

'How long?' asked Avedissian.

Feldman smiled and said, 'I came here forty years ago to escape from Boston. What brings you here?' he asked.

Avedissian gave him the story about being on their way to visit relatives when their car broke down.

'Is someone dealing with it?'

'No, not yet,' said Avedissian. The snake bite took precedence.'

'Of course,' said Feldman, looking intently at Avedissian. 'Would you like me to call Tyler's garage?'

'No!' said Avedissian, almost too quickly, for he had still to think of a good reason why not. 'It's finished,' he said. 'It's a rented car and it's just going to hold us up even more if we have to hang around for the recovery. I'll phone the car company and tell them where they can find it. They can make their own arrangements.'

'As you like,' said Feldman. He turned to look at Harry who was sitting on the floor outside the door where Kathleen was sleeping. 'Your son is very quiet,' he said.

'He is a deaf-mute,' said Avedissian.

'I thought so,' nodded Feldman. 'He's also very nervous.'

'It's been a harrowing day,' said Avedissian.

'I guess so,’ said Feldman with a trace of uncertainty in his' voice.

'Doctor, is there somewhere in town where we can stay until my wife is well enough to travel?' asked Avedissian.

'You can stay here,' replied Feldman. 'There's only me and Minnie, my housekeeper, all alone in this big house.'

'We couldn't presume, Doctor.'

‘I’ll be glad of the company.'

Deciding that the argument was over, Feldman got up and said that he would tell Minnie. Avedissian thanked him and, as Feldman went out, got up to have a look at something that had caught his attention when he had first come in. He was examining it when Feldman returned. 'I haven't seen one of these for years,' he said, holding up an old laryngoscope.

'Are you a collector or a doctor?' asked Feldman.

'A doctor.'

'I see,' said the old man. Then we must talk. I don't often have the chance to meet my fellows.'

'What shall we talk about?'

'Why you have been lying ever since you set foot inside my house,’ said Feldman matter-of-factly,

'I don't understand,’ said Avedissian.

'I think you do,’ said Feldman. 'I may be old but I'm not stupid. You have an English accent. Your "wife" has a different one and your "son" is as nervous as a stray dog. You say you are on your way to visit relatives but you are miles from the freeway, and if your relatives were local you would have said so. You abandon your car and presumably all your luggage, unless, of course, you never had any in the first place which is the more likely. You are not visiting relatives, "Doctor", or was that a lie too? You are running from something or somebody.'

Avedissian's shoulders dropped in resignation as he lost the will to argue. 'I am a doctor,’ he said. That part was true.’

'And the rest?'

'You're right. We are on the run.'

'Perhaps you would care to talk about it?'

'I can't.'

'It's that serious?'

'I wouldn't know where to begin. What are you going to do?'

Feldman shook his head and said, 'I haven't made up my mind. The three of you make an unlikely gang. Where did you hope to get to?'

'Chicago,’ said Avedissian.

To leave the country?'

Avedissian nodded.

'We'll talk after dinner,’ said Feldman. 'I need time to consider.’

Avedissian went in to check on Kathleen, and felt her forehead as she slept; she was warm but there was no sign of fever. All the indications were that the anti-serum had been given in time and that it was going to prevent the worst effects of the venom. In Avedissian's mind, Feldman had now become the bigger problem. If the old man should decide to call the police he would have to stop him or else it would be the end for all three of them. The vision of a life together would evaporate almost as quickly as it had arisen, a momentary mirage in a desert of loneliness.

But having to stop Feldman physically was the last thing he wanted to have to do. Apart from anything else, it would be best if Kathleen could stay here until it was certain that the anti-serum had been effective. If she were to get any worse during the night she might still have to go to hospital. Avedissian decided that, for the moment, their future lay in Feldman's hands.

Enforced idleness gave him time to think about the opposition. Both NORAID and Innes would have used the gas station on the freeway as their starting point after the story in the paper. It seemed reasonable to assume that they would have gone north at first until the trail had gone cold, and then retraced their steps, guessing at possible turn-offs. It was conceivable that one or the other had already traced their movements to the Lehman place. From there it would be back to guess-work. But the longer they stayed put in one place the more guesses the opposition would have. Every minute that ticked by could be bringing the enemy nearer.