Page 19 of The Hitchhikers
Simon pulled the gun from his waistband. “If you try to crash or wave someone down—”
“I get it. Stop showing me the damn gun!” Alice was startled at the heat coming out of her voice. She never cursed. This was a very bad time to start.
“Don’t screw up.” Simon unfolded their well-worn map. Just the night before, Tom had shown him their reservation schedule and pointed out each campsite. Simon now had the blueprint to their entire trip. He studied the map while Alice kept the engine running.
“What are you waiting for?” Simon said.
Alice took a big breath, rubbed her sweaty palms on her shorts, said a quick mental prayer, and then put the RV into drive. She eased out of the campsite, glancing back and forth at her side mirrors to gauge how close she was to the trees. She passed by them easily. She thought of their first night of the trip, how bad she had felt when the RV got scratched. If they made it through this alive, she never wanted to see this RV again. She’d sell it the first chance she got.
They drove down the lane. The RV jerked each time she stepped on the brake too hard, rocking them forward in their seats. Simon looked over at her.
“Cool it. People are going to notice.”
They passed the office. An RV was parked outside, and a man and a woman were sitting on the office porch. They smiled and waved. Simon ducked his head.
At the stop sign, Simon pointed left. “That will take us to the Trans-Canada Highway.”
Alice made the turn, wishing they hadn’t paid ahead last night. It might have given her a chance to pass a note to the clerk. After a few miles, they reached the highway, and she increased their speed, checking the instrument panel. The gas gauge showed only a quarter full. They’d already switched over to the reserve tank. Should she tell Simon? She stared out the windshield at scenery that would have amazed her one day earlier—the low, rolling mountains, blue and gray in the distance. Velvety green pastures with horses and sheep or cows. Fields of toasted gold grass, and long stretches of road without any houses or gas stations. If they ran out of fuel, Simon and Jenny wouldn’t be able to steal the RV. But what would happen if they broke down?
In the end, it wasn’t up to her because Simon caught her glancing at the gas gauge. He leaned over to look. “We’ll make a stop.”
From the dinette, Jenny said, “What’s wrong?”
“We have to get gas, and Alice is going to listen to everything I say so nobody gets hurt.” Alice felt him staring at the side of her face. “Right?”
“Right.”
“Good.” He turned and spoke to Jenny. “What do we have to eat?”
Jenny moved around behind them. Cupboards opened. The fridge. Jenny brought a blueberry muffin and a banana to Simon. Jenny also offered a muffin to Alice. She wanted to refuse the food, but her stomach was gnawingly empty. She took the muffin and ate it with one hand. There weren’t many other cars onthe road yet, and she was glad for that. She didn’t know what she was going to do if they had to drive on any narrow, curvy sections through the mountains.
“We have family,” she said. “They’ll be expecting us to phone.” It wasn’t true. Tom’s parents had passed a few years ago. Alice’s mother was busy with her grandchildren and her bridge parties. She’d bustle around the house in her green velvet housedress, her hair in a turban and her bangs taped down, as she smoked one of her long menthol cigarettes. Every morning, Alice’s father would sit in his easy chair with the newspaper and read celebrity gossip out loud to her mother, who would tsk over “Elizabeth and Richard,” who’d gotten married again but were apparently heading for another divorce. Then there were Alice’s siblings, all with spouses and children to manage. The most anyone expected was a postcard and an Olympic souvenir.
Simon gestured at their travel binder on the dash. “Campgrounds have phones.”
“Surely you don’t mean to stick to our plan?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Where’s your next spot?”
Alice tried to remember. They’d talked about the trip so much, but fear was clouding her mind. “Golden. I think.”
“I like it. Feels lucky.” He nodded to himself as he refolded the map, tossed it up onto the dash, and leaned back in his seat. “We’ll have to see how the day goes.”
Alice’s eyes burned with tears. She thought of all the times she’d wished that she had died with her son, and now, faced with that possibility, she realized how much she wanted to live.
Simon rolled his head to the side to look at her. “Guess you’re not so lucky, though.”
Then he laughed.
CHAPTER 8ALICE
As they drove on, Alice’s initial shock and horror evolved into a paralyzing dread that sent shivers down her body. Despite the heat, she felt ice cold, numb. They passed farmlands with cows dotting the fields and the occasional roadside stand selling eggs or fresh produce, then the highway curved back to run alongside the seemingly endless Shuswap Lake. Its deep blue water sparkled through the stand of trees that provided a thin barrier between the highway and the lake.
Her sense of time had distorted, but she thought they’d been driving about thirty minutes when they reached a long bridge with low guardrails. On her left, houseboats dotted the lake, and there was a beach on the other side of the bridge, crowded with swimmers in brightly colored bathing suits. Beach umbrellas and towels were spread across every inch of sand.
When they’d made it off the bridge, there was a sign welcoming them to Sicamous and billboards advertising houseboat rentals. Halfway through the small town, Simon pointed to an Esso off the main highway. Alice turned and eased up to one of the blue gas pumps.
“Ask for a fill,” Simon said. “And smile.”
