Page 41 of The Hitchhikers
Tom didn’t say anything else, but Alice knew he had to be furious. He taught kids not much younger than Simon—and theyrespectedhim. Simon didn’t respect anyone. That much was clear.
When they found a two-pump Chevron just off the main roadthat was backed by a small thicket of trees and bushes, Simon leaned forward. “Circle behind the building. There’s a lane.”
They drove through a quiet neighborhood of older houses, most with mature yards and fences that gave the homeowners privacy from the road, which also made the opposite true.
“This is it,” he said to Jenny over his shoulder. He turned back to Alice. “Head to the Chevron. We’re getting gas.”
Alice followed his instructions, but her mouth had gone dry, her pulse spiking with adrenaline. There had to be a reason he had chosenthisgas station. While the attendant, a shaggy-haired teenage boy whose bangs fell into his eyes, filled up the RV, Simon studied the building.
Alice was sure now. He was going to rob it.
After they paid for the gas, Simon ordered her to park behind the station on one of the side roads, where the trees blocked them. She could see one corner of the building.
“Turn off the engine.”
She followed his instructions, her knees bouncing with nerves, the key chain clinking against the steering column. Simon shot her an annoyed look. She stopped the chain with her hand. The gas attendant was just a kid. Would he be working tonight? What if he got hurt?
“See what time they close,” he told Jenny. “But be casual. Catch my drift?”
“Yeah.”
After a few minutes, she came back, flush-faced and nervous looking as she slammed the RV door. “It’s open until eleven,” she said. “The boy who pumped our gas is the only worker.”
“Right on,” Simon said.
They drove north of town until they found a gravel area with a few picnic tables. Simon, who was consulting the map, announced that they were at the junction of two rivers—Columbia River onone side, and Kicking Horse River on the other. Like it mattered. Like he wasn’t hours away from doing something terrible.
Simon made Alice go outside with him while he replaced their current license plate with another that he must’ve stolen from the campground. He tossed theirs into the water. She watched it disappear. One more part of them gone for good.
They’d missed lunch, and it was almost dinnertime, but there wasn’t much left in the fridge to make a big meal with, so Alice cooked up a couple of boxes of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. She stirred and mused. Was Simon doing the robbery alone or with Jenny? They might get caught. Someone might enter the store. She imagined a burly trucker tackling Simon to the ground. Jenny might escape, but she didn’t have the gun. Alice would refuse to drive.
When the food was ready, everyone ate quietly. Both Simon and Jenny seemed lost in thought. They sat close, arms brushing. Alice was too anxious to finish her pasta. When Simon noticed, he gestured for her to pass her plate over to him, and he dug his fork in.
“I want to feed Tom,” she said.
Simon nodded with his mouth full.
Tom didn’t eat much either. She fretted about the sweat on his forehead, his pained breathing. They were nearly out of Tylenol. He met her eyes, mouthed, “Robbery?”
She nodded, then whispered, “Maybe it’s good. He’ll get caught.”
“What are you two talking about?”
She turned. Simon was watching from the table, fork gripped in his hand.
“Nothing. He said the pasta’s good.” She got up to wash the dishes.
When she was putting away the last plate, Simon said, “Sit with us, Alice.”
She turned, drying her hands on the towel, and lowered herself onto the seat. Simon and Jenny were across from her. Simon lifted the thrift store bag from under the table and took two items out. Guns. Alice jolted back before she realized they were toys. He set them on the table and spun one around with his finger. It slowed, pointing between Alice and the kitchen.
“You’re coming with me tonight,” Simon said.
“Where?”
“We’re going to rob the gas station. You and me.”
Tom made a noise, a bark of shock. “You can’t be serious.”
