Authors: Jeffrey Littorno
I was surprised to find myself agreeing with the old guy. “Right, even if the cops are following a bogus description from our friends in the grocery store, they’re going to be fired up and moving through the area. Not a good idea to be around.”
“Okay, so we gotta get outta sight, but where to?” Joey asked.
Louis Stoaffer answered with surprising enthusiasm. “If I am not mistaken, just over these hills is a little town called Chrystal Springs. We can hike it in a few hours and then hideout nearby until it gets dark. I am assuming that one of you is talented enough to appropriate another vehicle.”
“Lissen to you! I’m pretty sure by
appropriate another vehicle
you mean steal ‘nother car.” Joey jumped in. “Yer a regular criminal genius, Lou!”
“Well, I have to say that you’re making a lot of sense, Louis.” I said almost against my will. “We should push the car outta sight and then get going.”
The old man got in the car and put it into neutral while Joey and I pushed from behind. The car refused to budge even a little despite all of our efforts. None of us liked leaving the car out in the open for anyone to see, but after a few unsuccessful attempts at pushing it off of the stump we had to admit defeat.
Stoaffer was behind the wheel. Joey and I were leaning against the back of the car trying to catch our breaths and come up with other ideas. The white and green police car had pulled onto the gravel of the shoulder twenty yards away from us before any of us had even noticed it.
As the crunching of tires on gravel announced the cars arrival, Joey’s head jerked toward the sound and then his eyes darted to the backseat of the Lincoln where his gun sat. As I saw his reaction, my stomach dropped. I pictured a shootout there on the side of the road. A shootout that would not end well for anyone.
To my utter astonishment, Stoaffer popped out of the car and strolled quickly over to the patrol car. I say he strolled, because he seemed to bounce as he walked. It was like he was going to meet some old pal.
The tall thin cop was starting to climb out of the car. As Louis Stoaffer reached the car, the officer must have felt somewhat pinned in by the old man standing directly in front of him. Instead of getting out of the car, he fell back into the seat and looked out at him.
“Good afternoon, officer.” Louis’ greeting seemed genuinely enthusiastic. “As you can see, we had a bit of car trouble. Already called a friend for some help. He should be arriving in no time.”
Even from the distance, Louis Stoaffer’s smile lit up his whole head.
“You sure you don’t need anything?” The cop glanced over at Joey and me.
The old man answered slowly, “No, like I said we’re just waiting on a friend. Besides I hear you’ve got some big problems in Plymouth.”
“Yeah, makes you wonder what the world’s coming to.” The cop paused and shook his head for a moment. “Little town like Plymouth, stuff like this sure isn’t supposed to happen.” He paused again as if considering whether or not to continue. “Those were good people who got killed for no good reason.” Another pause. “But we got the sons of bitches that did it! That’s something I guess.”
I shot Joey a rather confused look at the cop’s words.
“Well, if you‘re sure you got it under control, I should head back down the road.” The cop said to Louis.
“Thanks, officer, we don’t want to take up any more of your time.” Louis answered and the added, “Glad to hear that justice was done!”
The cop did not say anything in reply. Instead he simply nodded and as soon as Louis stepped away from the car pulled the door closed. He glanced over in our direction as the patrol car swung back onto the highway.
“Lou, yer one smooth old basterd!” Joey walked over to smack Stoaffer on the shoulder.
The old man looked at me and noticed my clear expression of unease. “Thomas, what’s troubling you?”
“I’m just wondering what he meant by sayin’ they ‘got the sons of bitches that did it’.”
“Oh, Thomas!” Joey looked at me and shook his head. “Yuh need tuh lighten up. Yuh heard the cop, right? That means nobody’s lookin’ fer us.”
“I just wonder who the cops got, that’s all.” I answered a little apologetically.
“It don’t matter!” Joey looked at me and chuckled. “Maybe those fag models from the magazine yuh showed ‘em picked the wrong day to visit the area.”
“You’re right!” I said forcing myself to feel optimistic. “What matters is that we have a little breathing room.”
“I’m glad to see we’re all putting on our happy faces, but we still need to get to San Pietro.” Stoaffer commented. “I suggest that we keep to the plan. Hike over these hills to Chrystal Springs and then lay low until dark.”
“I agree.” Again, my agreement with Louis surprised me to the point that I had trouble getting the words out of my mouth. “We can’t wait around for someone to start feeling guilty and change their story to the cops.”
“Let’s stop talkin’ then and go!” Joey added.
Chapter 3
We hiked mostly in silence. Occasionally, one of us would make a remark about something like a bird or a lizard or the sound of something scurrying off under the tall dry grass. But overall, we were quiet. The weather was sunny but not hot, and the hills were not too steep.
It was a little after five when we came to the top of another hill and looked down to see the town. Actually, calling it a town may be over-generous. It was more like a clump of buildings that had somehow been dropped in the middle of nowhere.
“We walked alla this way for that shithole?” Joey managed to put my own thoughts into words.
Louis looked from me to Joey and then back to me. “Well, we are not looking to settle down there. All we need is a car to get us to San Pietro.”
“Yer right, Lou.” Joey grinned. “I jus’ hope we kin find a car that’ll start. Thomas, whadda yuh think?”
“I think that we don’t have much choice.” I tried to keep my voice confident. “We have to find something. We’re not going to get too far on foot.”
“I like your optimism, Thomas.” Stoaffer was practically beaming. “Now let’s head on down there and find a car.”
“Let’s go! I wanna find somethin’ to eat! I’m starvin’!” Joey added.
“I hate to rain on this parade. But we ought to stick to the plan and wait until dark to go into town.” I looked at Joey’s expression of disappointment.
“But you heard the cop, nobody’s lookin’ for us.” My partner-in-crime was suddenly sounding like a six-year-old kid whining about having to go to bed.
“Nobody was looking for us four hours ago, but that could have changed by now. Besides, how’s it going to look if three strangers show up in town right before somebody steals a car? If nobody’s looking for us now, they will be after that.” I was trying to sound reasonable, but judging by the pout on Joey’s face I’m not sure I succeeded.
“Sorry, Joey, but I have to agree with Thomas.”
Louis commented. “We’ve been lucky so far. We don’t want to ruin things by being too impatient.”
I was actually thankful to have Stoaffer’s backup on this. Joey often reacted poorly when he did not get his way.
“We can just chill under the trees here for a couple of hours. Once it gets dark, we’ll go get a car and something to eat.” I said gently to Joey and was glad to see him nod in agreement.
Stoaffer chimed in, “At least, this will give me a chance to continue with my story.”
Like a couple of kindergarteners getting ready for story time, Joey and I both found comfortable spots in the shade under the oak trees and waited for Louis Stoaffer to tell us a story. He stood a few yards from us on a small mound of dirt.
“Let’s see, where was I?” Stoaffer looked at us for an answer.
I’m not sure, but I think Joey started to raise his hand before shouting out, “Yer friend was cleanin’ up the whisky he spilled!”
“That’s right, Joey. Thanks for remembering.” Stoaf-fer had taken on the role of teacher perfectly. “So Gary and Linda were acting a bit strange, and I had decided the strange behavior must be a sign that they were having marital problems. I was sitting at the bar while he cleaned. He poured Scotch on the rocks for the both of us, slid my drink over to me, and sat looking over the top of his glass at me. I have to admit that I really had no interest in playing marriage counselor. I definitely didn’t want to have to listen to a lot of crap about how ‘they had grown apart’.” Stoaffer used his fingers to make air quotes and scrunched his face into an expression of disgust. Joey and I responded appropriately by giggling. “But Gary was my friend, so I felt somewhat obligated to let him vent. And truth be told, I was a bit curious as to whether I was correct in my deduction about the source of the odd behavior. It was a delicate subject, and I tried to broach it appropriately.
“‘Linda looked kind of upset when we came in. Everything okay with you two?’ I hoped Gary’s response would be something about having a small argument without anything involving a long outpouring of emotions. However, upon hearing my question, Gary snorted as one sometimes does when trying to stifle a laugh. As a result, whiskey shot up his nose and he started coughing and wiping his nose with the towel. After a few minutes, he got to the point at which he could speak although his nose continued to run. With some difficulty, he managed to ask, ‘So you really think the problem is between Linda and me?’ The laughter roared out of him as soon as the question left his lips. It was not the lighthearted kind of laughter that lifts your spirits. This was the hard-edged almost hysterical sort that comes from observing the absurdity of life.
“Before I had the opportunity to ask Gary about it, Linda and Theresa came into the room. I believe I mentioned Theresa often referred to Linda as
the mouse
. As Gary’s wife walked across the room, I thought that she certainly fit the description. Her body looked frail and powerless, and she moved as if frightened by every sound.
“In every sense a contrast, Theresa laughed as she strode up to the bar and said, ‘Well, you two sound like you’re having a great time in here.’
“At the sound of Theresa’s voice, Gary’s face went ashen and anything resembling laughter disappeared from the room. Without raising his eyes from the bar, Gary quietly replied, ‘Louis and I have been friends for a long time.’ The somberness of his words reminded me of something spoken as part of a eulogy. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lighten the oppressively heavy mood which had fallen over the entire house.
“’Okay, ladies, what’ll it be?’ I asked brightly. I glanced over at Linda who was cowering at the end of the bar and still avoiding my gaze.
“Just a glass of white wine,” Theresa’s reply quickly filled the silence hanging in the room. “And Linda will have the same.” She smiled toward Linda whose eyes remained lowered after a brief flicker upward.
“Linda said so quietly as to be barely audible, ‘White wine will be fine.’
“’Yes, indeed! Wine is always fine!’ I sang out trying to be a festive spin on things. My effort seemed to go unnoticed by everyone except Theresa who laughed in response. ‘Okay, barkeeper, we will have two white wines, a refill of this fine Scotch, and get one for yourself my good man!’
“Gary looked at me with a crooked smile that showed more anxiety than genuine cheerfulness. ‘Coming right up,” he managed to force out.
“So here I was in the middle of all this very strange, strained behavior and managing to explain it away as merely symptoms of normal marital stress. But then something so entirely odd happened for which I could find no explanation. Theresa sat down next to me on a barstool and then leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. My wife was never one for displays of affection particularly not in front of others so her action took me completely by surprise. I turned to look at her with an expression of obvious and absolute shock.
“‘What? A wife can’t kiss her husband if the mood strikes her?’ She smiled as she tilted her head slightly to show a touch of confusion.
“I continued to stare at Theresa’s feigned ignorance regarding my surprise. If my scrutiny made her the least bit nervous, Theresa never showed it. She held direct eye contact with me for a moment before looking at the others in the room. ‘Well, should we have a toast?’ She asked in a tone of forced spontaneity which came out as less of a question and more of a command.
“Both Gary and Linda had kept their faces down giving the appearance that they were not following the interaction between Theresa and me. However, at the sound of the word ‘toast’, all eyes shot toward me. As you have probably gathered by now, I am not the type of person who shrinks from attention. But that night in that house in that room, something about being the focus of all eyes made me uneasy.
“‘What shall we toast?’ Theresa asked with some enthusiasm. I was a little puzzled by her sudden energy but just added it to a growing list of odd things.
“I looked around at the melancholy expressions of Gary and Linda, and I figured maybe she was right. Maybe some enthusiasm was just what they needed. ‘I’ve got a toast! Here’s to a bright future with even brighter friends!’ As I raised my glass, I saw Theresa’s smiling face but noticed decidedly gloomy almost guilty expressions shown by the others.
“Theresa moved closer to touch her glass to mine. After a moment, both Gary and Linda leaned slowly over to touch glasses. Even as they did so, their eyes avoided looking directly into mine. ‘Ching ching!’ Theresa said as the glasses touched. Gary muttered the same. Linda’s eyes flickered to mine briefly before she looked away.