Page 38 of The Hitchhikers
“Alice and Tom know that’s not true.”
“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s not going to happen. Tomorrow, we’ll go to a thrift store for disguises. Then we’ll case a few places. Something out of the way.”
“Have you done this before?”
“You think I was robbing houses in White Cliff?” His eyebrows pulled together, a hurt expression in his dark eyes.
“Sorry.” She touched his arm. “You just sound so confident.”
“That deckhand I told you about. The ex-con. He liked to bragabout all the robberies he did and told me his tricks. He’d target businesses late at night or first thing in the morning when there weren’t any customers and there was only one person working.”
“He got caught, though.”
“His car broke down. But we’ll get away easy. We’ll park the RV somewhere nearby so I can run to it. No one’s going to think the robbers are driving an RV.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He leaned forward and kissed her. He smelled of woodsmoke, his skin warm and his lips soft, but he tasted of wine. She pulled away and fed more sticks into the fire.
They stayed up until they ran out of firewood and the campground had grown silent. No more kids on bikes, barking dogs, distant laughter, music. The only sound was the rush of the river.
“I’ll be fast,” Simon whispered before he disappeared into the dark. He’d told her to wait inside the RV, but she refused. She needed to see him come back.
She scanned the darkness, staring at every shape, listening for his footsteps. He was so quiet, she nearly screamed when he suddenly appeared around the front of the RV. He held his finger to his lips, but he was smiling when he flashed her the license plate hidden under his shirt.
“I’ll put it on tomorrow,” he said, “when we’ve left the campground.” He reached for her hand and helped her up. She wondered what it would be like when she was big and round. Her mom had hated being pregnant, something she reminded Jenny of frequently, and how it had ruined her body. Jenny liked the idea of changing. Her body had never felt like her own anyway.
Long after Simon began snoring by Jenny’s side, with Tom’ssnores echoing from the back, she remained awake. She thought of her father. How she’d fall asleep to the sound of his snores through their thin apartment walls, how unbearably quiet it had been after he died.
Within weeks her mother had given away or sold his belongings. All that Jenny had left were photos and a box of rocks that she and her father had collected. She’d only been eleven when he died, and she’d missed him so much. When she couldn’t sleep, she’d take out one of the rocks and hold it in her hand, remembering how his green eyes crinkled when he smiled, his Irish Spring soap smell. He taught her about rocks and minerals, showing her photos in books.
Tom reminded her of her dad. They had that same excited way of talking about things that they were interested in. Maybe they would have been friends. She didn’t think Alice would have liked her mother. She imagined them meeting. Maybe in a bookstore, after one of Robert’s readings. She’d overheard so many of her mom’s conversations, she could write a script.
Her mother would start with a compliment, probably something about Alice’s curly hair, and how she was brave for wearing it natural. Then she’d talk about Robert, how his last book was a bestseller. Twelve weeks onThe Globe and Mail! And then a finalist for the Governor General’s Award. Such an honor. His new book was going to beamazing, even better than the first. He was almost finished. Any day now. She’d find a way to mention how they’d left Vancouver so that Robert could be inspired by the peace and quiet of a small town, and that they’d bought a lovely home on the cliffs so that he could look out every day at the ocean.
She wouldn’t share how she thought White Cliff was boring and dreary, or that she’d only agreed to move because Robert would buy her a dance studio. She’d never admit that four yearshad now passed, and Robert was always locked in his office, ripping up pages of his book.
Next was the part that Jenny hated the most. Her mom would lean closer, lower her voice, and say that her first husband had died in a terrible,terribleaccident at the plant where he worked. Poor man was crushed by a machine. She’dbeggedhim not to work late.
Sometimes Jenny thought her mom might even believe her own lies, she said them so convincingly, but Jenny couldn’t forget how her mom would pick at her dad.Why don’t you ask for a raise? How are we supposed to live like this? You need more hours.
After her mom would tell someone about the accident, she’d sigh and say how hard it had been to raise her daughter alone. She’d make it sound like she was left with nothing, but Jenny knew there’d been insurance money. Enough for her mom to buy clothes and makeup and move them to a better apartment. Enough that she was able to go out and look for a new husband, leaving Jenny alone, sometimes overnight, sometimes for days. And once, when Jenny had the flu, in the back seat of their car, with a blanket and pillow, while her mom was inside a restaurant.
The story usually ended with her mother touching her heart, and saying, with a dreamy smile, how she’d thought she’dneverfind love again, until Robert swept her off her feet.
But Alice would never have a conversation with Jenny’s mother. She and Robert weren’t at their cliffside house, drinking cocktails and listening to Sinatra records. They were probably at the morgue. Would they have funerals? Who would be there? The town would be talking about Simon and Jenny.We knew they were no good. As soon as she got with that boy…
Jenny’s heart was racing too fast, memories swallowing her up. She rolled onto her side. The baby was moving. Soft flutters. She ran her hand over her belly, wondering if it could feel her.Simon was convinced it was a boy, but she felt like it was a girl. Her daughter. What would she call her? Nicole? Amy? Heather? She thought of baby names until her eyelids grew heavy.
In the morning, she and Simon took turns in the bathroom, then Jenny changed into a lavender sundress that had puffed sleeves and floated loose around her belly. Most of her clothes needed to be washed now. She and Simon had run away in such a hurry she’d barely had time to grab anything. She needed a shower. Alice probably wanted one too.
“We have to let Alice and Tom shower,” she said to Simon.
“If we all shower in the RV, it will fill the tanks.”
“You and I can use the public washroom.” Simon opened his mouth as though he was going to argue, so she quickly added, “We can go at separate times.”
He rubbed at his forehead, looking toward the front windows. “Okay.”
