Page 47 of Go Home
“Wow.So, what’s it really about?”
“Take your pick.Human folly, arrogance.There’s always someone bigger than you.God’s bigger than all of us…”
“Again, though, Gabe.Why me?”
“That’s something you’ll have to work out for yourself.It will come.You know it will.”
After they parted, she sat in the standard-issue black sedan for a while, trying to make sense of the story Gabe had told her.She sensed the meaning out there, like a word you’ve suddenly forgotten, a movie star whose name escapes you.It usually wouldn’t come until you gave up.But how could she give up with a serial killer at large?She didn’t have time for her subconscious to work its magic.
A copper-colored SUV was trying to exit the lot at the same time as Kate.The driver flashed for her to go first.She gave a wave of acknowledgement and set off into the early afternoon traffic, her mind still, inevitably, set on figuring out the meaning behind the myth.
What could the original writer have wanted to say?It wasn’t easy for her to put herself in the mindset of a sixth century Georgian monk, or someone from an even more distant past, but she had to try.Perhaps the story said something about the nature of God, the size of the vengeful monster being a stand-in for God’s vastness, eternity, omnipresence.Even a warrior-king is puny by comparison.
Or was it about motherhood?A feminist might see it as a celebration of the power that men lack: to create a child.The beast’s mother was so vengeful because the king took a life she had created.Weren’t there numerous tales of mothers who’d found the strength to lift cars and kick down walls when their babies were in peril?Come to think of it, were any of them true?
More traffic lights.She noticed the copper SUV was still behind her.
She hoped the tale wasn’t about motherhood.As Gabe had suggested, the killer was trying to show her how much he knew.She really hoped that knowledge didn’t extend to her medical records.The thought of him knowing that kind of detail was almost unbearable.
A strange light suffused the sky, a combination of the lowering sun and an impending rain shower, tinging the edge of everything with silver.She couldn’t enjoy the beauty for too long; shortly after crossing the railway, she got behind a Cap in the traffic.The Cap, according to Marcus, was a death knell for any driver in a hurry.If the guy in front of you was wearing a golfing cap, then he’d be over eighty, still rely on hand signals, and drive at ten miles an hour.Unless you could get in front of him yourself, you might as well cancel your journey.
There was a great deal of oncoming traffic, though, so no easy means of overtaking.Strangely, the SUV driver behind her showed no signs of impatience, merely adjusting to the drastically reduced tempo.She realized there was a slight tint on the windscreen, meaning that she couldn’t make out whether the driver was male or female.Was it the weird light?Or did she need glasses?But was he staring at her?
She grabbed the opportunity – a break in the oncoming traffic, just enough for her to nip ahead of the Cap.She pulled a sharp right, soon after that.
Why was she so sure it was a man?
She took another right, waited for a school party to cross the street; they were little kids, and they all waved.She waved back.When they’d all crossed, she felt a sudden stab of shock in her heart.Facing her, on the other side of the crossing, was the copper SUV.
She pulled up and watched, as its driver did the same to her, on the opposite side of the street.She noted down the license.This was bizarre.Like that Spielberg film.Duel.She called Marcus – no reply.She stepped out of her car, ID in hand.The SUV roared away.
What evenwasthat?Her paranoia?Two people paranoid about each other, a motorists’folie à deux?
Her phone rang.Marcus.
“What’s up?”he asked.His voice sounded thick; he was probably eating his fifth breakfast.
“Are you back?”
“Uh-huh.”
“With Mercer?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Can you look up a vehicle number for me?”
“Sure.” She told him the number.It seemed to take him a very long time to write it down.
“Has something happened?”he asked.
“Nothing’s happened.Someone driving dangerously.I’m not sure they should be behind the wheel.”
She hung up.She almost never lied, and she was slightly appalled at how easy she’d found it.But she knew Marcus.If she even intimated that she might have been followed, he’d go to Defcon Four.And she wasn’t even sure if it had happened.
But if it had, then who was it?
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