Mrs. Elliott had taken care of getting her husbands brain relocated the night before, and she said it had made her kind of emotional, so shed decided to rent this RV and drive it back to Altadena, just take her time and enjoy the trip. Trouble was, she didnt know San Francisco, and shed picked it up that morning at this rental place on sixth and gotten lost looking for a freeway. Wound up driving around in the Haight, which she said did not look at all like a safe neighborhood but was certainly very interesting.
The loose handcuff kept falling out of the sleeve of Skinners jacket, but Mrs. Elliott was too busy talking to notice. Rydell was driving, Chevette was in the middle, and Mrs. Elliot was on the passenger side. The RV was Japanese, and had these three power-adjustable buckets up front, with headrests with speakers built in.
Mrs. Elliot had told Rydell she was lost and did he know the city and could he drive her to where she could get on the highway to Los Angeles? Rydell had sort of gawked at her for a minute, then shook himself and said hed be glad to, and this was his friend Chevette, who knew the city, and he was Berry Rydell.
Mrs. Elliot said Chevette was a pretty name.
So here they were, headed out of San Francisco, and Chevette had a pretty good idea that Rydell was going to try to talk Mrs. Elliott into letting them go along with her. That was all she could think of to do, herself, and here they were off the street and headed away from the guy whod shot Sammy and from that Warbaby and those Russian cops, which seemed like a good idea to her, and aside from her stomach feeling like it was starting to eat itself, she felt a little better.
Rydell drove past an In-and-Out Burger place and she remembered how this boy she knew called Franklin, up in Oregon, had taken a pellet-gun over to an In-and-Out and shot out the B and the R, so it just said IN-AND-OUT URGE. Shed told Lowell about that, but he hadnt thought it was funny. Now she thought about how shed told Rydell stuff about Lowell that Lowell would go ballistic if he ever found out about, and here Rydell was the next thing to a cop. But it bothered her how Lowell had been, the night before. There he was, all cool and heavy with his connections and everything, and she tells him shes in trouble and somebodys just shot Sammy Sal and theyre gonna be after her for sure, and him and Codes just sit there, giving each other these looks, like they like this story less by the minute, and then the big motherfucker cop in the raincoat walks in and theyre about to shit themselves.
Served her right. She hadnt had a single friend liked Lowell much, and Skinner had hated him on sight. Said Lowell had his head so far up his ass, he might as well just climb in after it and disappear. But she just hadnt ever really had a boyfriend before, not like that, and hed been so nice to her at first. If he just hadnt started in doing that dancer, because that brought the asshole out in him real fast, and then Codes, who hadnt ever liked her, could get him going about how she was just a country girl. Fuck that.
You know she said, I dont get something to eat soon, I think Ill die.
And Mrs. Elliott started making a fuss about how Rydell should stop immediately and get something for Chevette, and how sorry she was she hadnt thought to ask if theyd had breakfast.
Well Rydell said, frowning mto the rear-view, I really would like to miss the, uh, lunch-hour traffic here
Oh Mrs. Elliott said. Then she brightened. Chevette, dear, if youll just go in the back, youll find a fridge there. Im sure the rental people have put a snack basket in there. They almost always do.
Sounded fine to Chevette. She undid her harness and edged back between her seat and Mrs. Elliotts. There was a little door there and when she went through it the lights came on. Hey she said, its a whole little house back here
Enjoy! said Mrs. Elliott.
The light stayed on when she closed the door behind her. She hadnt ever seen the inside of one of these things before, and the first thing she thought of was that it had nearly as much space as Skinners room, plus it was about ten times more comfortable. Everything was gray, gray carpet and gray plastic and gray imitation leather. And the fridge turned out to be this cute little thing built into a counter, with this basket in there, wrapped up in plastic with a ribbon on it. She got the plastic off and there was some wine, little cheeses, an apple, a pear, crackers, and a couple of chocolate bars. There was Coke in the fridge, too, and bottled water. She sat on the bed and ate a cheese, a bunch of crackers, a chocolate bar that was made in France, and drank a bottle of water. Then she tried out the tv, which had twenty-three channels on downlink.
When she was done, she put the empty bottle and the torn paper and stuff in a little wastebasket built into the wall, cut the tv off, took off her shoes, and lay back on the bed.
It was strange, to stretch out on a bed in a little room that was moving, she didnt know where, and she wondered where shed be tomorrow.
Just before she fell asleep, she remembered that she still had Codes bag of dancer stuck down in her pants. Shed better get rid of that. She figured there was enough there to go to jail for.
She thought about how it made you feel, and how weird it was that people spent all that money to feel that way.
She sure wished Lowell hadnt liked to feel that way.
She woke up when he lay down beside her, the RV moving but she knew it mustve stopped before. The lights were off.
Whos driving? she said.
Mrs. Armbruster.
Who?
Mrs. Elliott. Mrs. Armbruster was this teacher I had, looked like her.
Wheres she driving to?
Los Angeles. Told her Id take over when she got tired. Told her not to bother waking us up when she goes through at the state line. Lady like that, if she tells em shes not carrying any agricultural products, theyll probably let her through without checking back here.
What if they do?
He was close enough to her on the narrow bed that she could feel it when he shrugged.
Rydell?
Huh?
How come theres Russian cops?
How do you mean?
You watch on tv, like a cop show, about half the big cops are always Russian. Or those guys back there on the bridge. How come Russian?
Well he said, they kind of exaggerate that on tv, cause of the Organizatsiya thing, how people like to see shows about that. But the truth is, you get a situation where theres Russians running most of your mob action, youll want to get you some Russian cops She heard him yawn. Felt him stretch.
Are they all like those two came to Dissidents?
No he said. Theres always some crooked cops, but thats just the way it is
Whatll we do, when we get to Los Angeles?
But he didnt answer, and after a while he started to snore.
Rydell opened his eyes. Vehicle not moving.
He held his Timex up in front of his face and used the dial-light. 3:15 PM. Chevette Washington was curled up beside him in her biker jacket. Felt like sleeping next to a piece of old luggage.
He rolled over until he could find the shade over the window beside him and raise it a little. As dark out there as it was in here.
Hed been dreaming about Mrs. Armbrusters class, fifth grade at Oliver North Elementary. They were about to be let out because LearningNet said there was too much Kansas City flu around to keep the kids in Virginia and Tennessee in school that week. They were all wearing these molded white paper masks the nurses had left on their seats that morning. Mrs. Armbruster had just explained the meaning of the word pandemic. Poppy Markoff, who sat next to him and already bad tits out to here, had told Mrs. Armbruster that her daddy said the KC flu could kill you in the time it took to walk out to the bus. Mrs. Armbruster, wearing her own mask, the micropore kind from the drugstore, started in about the word panic, tying that into pandemic because of the root, but that was where Rydell woke up.