Under Del’s guidance, the Jaguar held the pavement tenaciously, however, and it shrieked to a shuddering halt as it came out of a complete three-hundred-sixty-degree spin.
Not a stupid dog, wanting to avoid being pitched off the seat again, Scootie waited on the floor until Del jammed her foot down on the accelerator. Only after the car rocketed forward did he scramble up beside Tommy.
Looking out the rear window, Tommy saw the Peterbilt braking aggressively on the street they had left. Even the superior driving skills of a supernatural entity -did they have highways in Hell where demons with Los-Angeles-area assignments were able to practice? -couldn’t finesse the huge truck into making such a sharp and sudden turn. Basic physics still applied. The Samaritan-thing was trying only to bring the vehicle to a stop.
With its tyres locked, the Peterbilt shot past the inter-section and disappeared into the next block.
Tommy prayed that it would jack-knife.
In the front seat, as the Jaguar accelerated to seventy, Mother Phan said, ‘Girl, you drive like crazy maniac detective in books.’
‘Thank you,’ Del said.
Mother Phan withdrew something from her purse.
Tommy couldn’t quite see what she held in her hand, but he heard a series of telltale electronic tones. ‘What’re you doing, Mom?’
‘Calling ahead.’
‘What’ve you got there?’
‘Cellular phone,’ she said blithely.
Astonished, he said, ‘You own a cellular phone?’
‘Why not?’
‘I thought cellular phones were for big shots?’
‘Not anymore. Everybody got one.’
‘Oh? I thought it was too dangerous to use a phone and drive.’
As she finished punching in the number, she explained:
‘I not driving. Riding.’
Del said, ‘For heaven’s sake, Tommy, you sound as if you live in the Middle Ages.’
He glanced out the rear window. A full block behind them, the Peterbilt reversed into sight on the street that they had left. It hadn’t jack-knifed.
Someone must have answered Mother Phan’s call, because she identified herself and spoke into the tele-phone in Vietnamese.
Less than a block and a half behind them, the Peterbilt swung through the intersection.
Tommy consulted his watch. ‘What time’s dawn?’
‘I don’t know,’ Del said. ‘Maybe half an hour, maybe forty minutes.’
‘Your morn would know to the minute, to the sec-ond.’
‘Probably,’ Del agreed.
Although Tommy couldn’t understand more than an occasional word of what his mother was saying, he had no doubt that she was furious with the person on the other end of the line. He winced at her tone and was relieved that he wasn’t on the receiving end of her anger.
Behind them, the Peterbilt was gaining. It had closed the gap to only a block.
Tommy said worriedly, ‘Del?’
‘I see it,’ she assured him, checking her side mirror and then accelerating even though they were already travelling dangerously fast for the street conditions of this residential neighbourhood.
With a final burst of invective in Vietnamese, Tommy’s mother switched off the cellular phone. ‘Stupid woman,’ she said.
‘Give it a rest,’ Del advised.
‘Not you,’ said Mother Phan. ‘You bad news, wicked, dangerous, but not stupid.’
‘Thank you,’ said Del.
‘I mean Quy. Stupid woman.’ Tommy said, ‘Who?’
‘Mrs. Quy Trang Dai.’
‘Who’s Quy Trang Dai?’
‘Stupid woman.’
‘Aside from being a stupid woman, who is she?’
‘Hairdresser.’
Tommy said, ‘I still don’t understand why we’re going to the hairdresser.’
‘You need a trim,’ Del told him.
The Jaguar engine was roaring so loudly that Mother Phan had to raise her voice to be heard. ‘She not only hairdresser. She friend. Play mah-jongg with her and other ladies every week, and sometimes bridge.’
‘We’re going for breakfast and a nice game of mah-jongg,’ Del told Tommy.
Mother Phan said, ‘Quy my age but different.’
‘Different how?’ Tommy asked.
‘Quy so old-fashioned, stuck in ways of Vietnam, can’t adjust to new world, never want anything to change.’
‘Oh, I see, yes,’ Tommy said. ‘She’s utterly different from you, Mom.’
He turned in his seat to peer anxiously out the rear window. The truck was bearing down on them, perhaps two-thirds of a block away.
‘Quy,’ said Mother Phan, ‘not from Saigon like our family, not born city person. She from sticks, nowhere village on Xan river near borders Laos and Cambodia. All jungle out there on Xan River. Some people there strange, have strange knowledge.’
‘Sort of like Pittsburgh,’ Del said.
‘What strange knowledge?’ Tommy asked.
‘Magic. But not magic like stupid Roland Ironwright pulls rabbits from hats and Mai thinks clever.’
‘Magic,’ Tommy said numbly.
‘This magic like making potion to win love of girl, making charm to succeed in business. But also worse.’
‘Worse how?’
‘Talking to dead,’ Mother Phan said ominously, ‘learn-ing secrets about land of dead, making dead walk and work as slaves.’
The Peterbilt was half a block behind them. As it approached, the roar of its engine was growing louder than that of the Jaguar.
Del pushed the Jaguar as hard as she dared, but she continued to lose ground.
Tommy’s mother said, ‘Xan River magic bring spirits from dark underworld, put curse on sorcerer’s enemies.’
‘This Xan River is definitely a part of the planet that’s under the influence of evil extraterrestrial powers,’ Del declared.
‘Quy Trang Dai know this magic,’ said Mother Phan. ‘How to make a dead man dig up out of his grave and kill who told to kill. How to use frog gonads in potion to make enemy’s heart and liver melt into mud. How to put curse on woman who sleeps with your husband, so she give birth to baby with human head, dog body, and lobster hands.’
‘And you played mah-jongg with this woman!’ Tommy demanded, outraged.
‘Sometimes bridge,’ said Mother Phan.
‘But how could you associate with this monster?’
‘Be respectful, boy. Quy your elder by many years, earn respect. She no monster. Aside from this stupid thing she do with rag doll, she nice lady.’
‘She’s trying to kill me!’
‘Not trying to kill you.’
‘She is trying to kill me.’
‘Don’t shout and be crazy like maniac drunk detec-tive.’
‘She’s trying to kill me!’
‘She only trying to scare you so you maybe be more respectful of Vietnamese ways.’
Behind them, the Samaritan-thing blew the Peterbilt’s air horn: three long blasts, gleefully announcing that it was closing in for the kill.
‘Mom, this creature murdered three innocent bystand-ers already tonight, and it sure as hell will kill me if it can.’
Tommy’s mother sighed regretfully. ‘Quy Trang Dai not always as good at magic as she think.’
‘What?’
‘Probably make rag doll with one missing ingredient, summon demon from underworld with one wrong word. Mistake.’
‘Mistake?’
‘Everybody make mistake sometime.’
Del said, ‘That’s why they make erasers.’
‘I’ll kill this Mrs. Dai, I swear,’ Tommy announced.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Mother Phan said. ‘Quy Trang Dai nice lady, you not kill nice lady.’
‘She is not a nice lady, damn it!’
Del said disapprovingly, ‘Tommy, I’ve never heard you be so judgmental.’
‘I’ll kill her,’ Tommy repeated defiantly.
Mother Phan said, ‘Quy never use magic for herself, not make herself rich with magic, work hard as hair-dresser. Only use magic once or twice a year to help others.’
‘Well I sure haven’t been helped by all this,’ Tommy said.
‘Ah,’ Del said knowingly, ‘I see.’
Tommy said, ‘What? What do you see?’
The air horn of the Peterbilt blared again.
To Tommy’s Mother, Del said, ‘Are you going to tell him?’