He Started It Page 57
Grandpa glared at me but smiled at the man. ‘I’m on a road trip with my grandkids. Sometimes they get restless.’
The man smiled back. ‘Oh, I understand. I’ve got kids of my own back home.’
‘Thank for checking, though. Appreciate it.’
‘Not a problem. Glad everything is okay.’
The man left, Eddie shut the door, and Grandpa told us we were not allowed out of the room again. That was the end of it, at least until the next morning. The same man was in the parking lot, packing up his maroon Honda.
The man waved to us. ‘Good morning!’ he said.
Grandpa stared at him for a second before responding with a nod. ‘Morning.’
‘Hey,’ the man said, walking closer to us. ‘You mind if I ask you if you’re heading into Nevada? I’m afraid I don’t know this area very well and … well, I’m not much of a map reader. My wife is always yelling at me about asking for directions.’
If we had GPS back then, this conversation wouldn’t have taken place. The man would’ve had to come up with something else.
‘Where are you trying to go?’ Grandpa said.
‘Reno,’ the man said. ‘Thought I’d try my luck there before heading to Vegas.’
‘Sorry. Can’t help you with Reno.’ Grandpa motioned for us to get in the car. He waved goodbye to the man as we drove off.
I didn’t think anything of him, or of the conversation, because I was too worried about finding Nikki. When we called our parents the night before, Mom’s voice was tight and it was like that every time we called, so everything seemed normal, but it wasn’t. We had to tell her Nikki was asleep.
Once we were back on the road, Grandpa started acting nervous, like something was wrong, and he kept looking behind us. A few times he even told Eddie to keep a lookout but didn’t say why.
‘You’re such a traitor,’ I told him.
He smiled.
Somewhere in the middle of Nevada, otherwise known as Eureka County, Grandpa pulled over for a gas-bathroom-snack break. It would have felt a lot more normal if Nikki had been there. Or if the maroon Honda hadn’t pulled in right next to us.
The same man got out of his car and waved to us.
Grandpa didn’t wave or smile back. ‘Little far from Reno, aren’t you?’
The man shrugged. ‘Yeah. I guess I am.’
‘Since you’re following us, maybe you should tell me your name,’ Grandpa said.
‘Calvin. Calvin Bingham.’
Grandpa stared at him, like he was trying to figure out if he knew him. ‘And what is it that you want, Mr Calvin Bingham?’ His voice dripped with something, not so much sarcasm as disdain.
Calvin stopped smiling. When he did, his whole demeanor changed, even the way he stood. He no longer looked like some touristy gambler looking to relive the seventies. He looked mad. ‘Where’s the girl?’ he said.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Did I see another girl with you? Back a ways?’
Grandpa narrowed his eyes. ‘What are you, some kind of pervert? Into teenage girls?’
‘No. Nothing like that.’
I watched them stare at each other, and I remember wondering if Calvin was a better person than Grandpa. I hoped he was, and I hoped he would find Nikki.
When we drove away, Calvin followed.
1 Day Left
Nevada
State Motto: All for our country
In the morning, Eddie’s eyes are a little red but otherwise he has recovered from the mace. He and Portia aren’t talking to each other, and I don’t really want to talk to Eddie, much less be around him, but somehow I end up as the go-between.
It’s a weird start to the day.
Within minutes, we cross the border into Nevada. We’re in the desert now, and our first stop is at a dusty gas station. The wind is blowing, the grit so thick I can feel it in my teeth. It’s already deep into the afternoon. We got a late start because of changing motels and sleeping later to make up for it. The heat isn’t as relentless as last time, not this far north.
When I come out of the restroom at the gas station, Portia is waiting for me. We’re around the back of the gas station, where Eddie can’t see us.
‘That gun,’ Portia says, getting right to it. ‘Did you know Eddie brought that?’
‘I had no idea.’
She purses her lips. I can see a hint of the wrinkles she will have one day.
‘What?’ I say.
Portia pauses before spitting it out. ‘I don’t like this. Not one bit.’
‘Me neither. But what can we do? We can’t quit.’
‘We sure as hell can’t. I bet that’s what he’s hoping, though. So he can have all the money to himself.’
‘Screw that,’ I say.
‘Yeah. Screw that.’
We go back to the car together, where Eddie is waiting for us. I sit in the front now and Portia goes to the far back seat, as far away from Eddie as she can get.
Nathan and Jonah may have caused all our car problems, but that doesn’t explain everything else. Grandpa’s ashes going missing – and reappearing. The van that drove by, playing Nikki’s favorite song. The cell phone in the woods. That was all Nikki.
She’s the real reason I won’t quit this trip. The money is just a bonus.
Eureka County. This is where we stopped for lunch the first time, and it’s where we stop this time. Eddie might have even taken the same exit, although it’s hard to tell because these roadside towns all look the same. When he stops the car, Eddie tells us – tells me – how much time we have to eat.
Portia looks at me when she speaks. ‘I’m not eating fast food again. I’m going to sit down and eat a salad.’ She walks across the parking lot, away from Burger King and toward her only chance for a decent salad: Bennigan’s.
Eddie checks the time on his phone. I can almost see him calculating how long this stop will be.
‘I didn’t know you carried a gun,’ I say.
‘I don’t carry it every day. Just seemed like a good idea for this trip.’ He looks up from his phone. ‘Probably should’ve told you.’
‘Probably?’
‘Well, now you know.’ He walks away from me and heads into a fast-food restaurant.
Once we’re all back in the car and on the road, no one speaks. Eddie doesn’t mention the extended stop. Portia doesn’t say anything about the giant non-diet soda he’s drinking. I don’t mention anything at all. No one speaks until Eddie takes an exit near Duckwater, Nevada.
‘Looks the same,’ Portia says. ‘Doesn’t it, Beth?’
It does.
‘Our last night,’ Eddie says.
Overkill. We all know what night it is. We check into the same place, the Pine Cone Motel. We even go out to eat at the same place, a steakhouse and saloon called the Rib.
Portia orders a salad, Eddie orders a sirloin steak. I get a sandwich and a molten lava cake for dessert.
When we’re done eating, Eddie leans back in his seat and puts his hands on his stomach the way Dad used to. ‘I think it’s safe to say this is the last time we’ll have to take this road trip.’ He side-eyes Portia, who looks at me.