Here and Gone(2)

Louise spoke now, her words thick with sleep. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing,’ Sean said. ‘Go back to sleep.’

‘But I’m not sleepy,’ she said. Then she gave a cough, a rattle beneath it. She’d been doing that since early this morning, the cough becoming more persistent through the day.

Audra watched her daughter in the mirror. Louise getting sick was the last thing she needed. She’d always been more prone to illness than her brother, was small for her age, and skinny. She hugged Gogo, her head rocked back, and her eyes closed again.

The car rose onto an expanse of flat land, desert stretching out all around, mountains to the north. Were they the San Francisco Peaks? Or the Superstitions? Audra didn’t know, she’d have to check a map to remind herself of the geography. It didn’t matter. All that mattered right this second was the small general store off the road up ahead.

‘Mom, look.’

‘Yeah, I see it.’

‘Can we pull in?’

‘Yeah.’

Maybe they’d have coffee. One good strong cup would get her through the next few miles. Audra turned the blinker on to signal a right turn, eased onto the side road, then left across a cattle grid and onto the sandy expanse of forecourt. The sign above the store read GROCERIES AND ENGRAVING, red block lettering on a white board. The low building was constructed of wood, a porch with benches running along its length, the windows dark, points of artificial light barely visible beyond the dusty glass.

Too late, she realized the only car parked in front was a police cruiser. State highway patrol or county sheriff, she couldn’t tell from here.

‘Shit,’ she said.

‘You said a curse, Mom.’

‘I know. Sorry.’

Audra slowed the station wagon, its tires crunching grit and stones. Should she turn around, get back on the road? No. The sheriff or patrolman or whoever sat in that car, he’d have noticed her by now. Turning around would arouse suspicion. The cop would start paying attention.

She pulled the car up in front of the store, as far away from the cruiser as she could manage without looking like she was keeping her distance. The engine rattled as it died, and she pressed the key to her lips as she thought. Get out, get what you need. Nothing wrong with that. I’m just someone who needed a coffee, maybe a couple of sodas, some potato chips.

For the last few days Audra had been aware of every law-enforcement vehicle she saw. Would they be looking for her? Common sense told her no, they almost certainly weren’t. It wasn’t like she was a fugitive, was it? But still, that small and terrified part of her brain wouldn’t let go of the fear, wouldn’t quit telling her they were watching, searching for her. Hunting her, even.

But if they were looking for anyone, it’d be the kids.

‘Wait here with Louise,’ she said.

‘But I want to come too,’ Sean said.

‘I need you to look after your sister. Don’t argue.’

‘Aw, man.’

‘Good boy.’

She lifted her purse from the passenger seat, her sunglasses from the cup holder. Heat screamed in as she opened the driver’s door. She climbed out as quickly as she could, closed the door to keep the cool air in, the hot air out. Her cheeks and forearms took the force of the sun, her pale freckled skin unaccustomed to the sheer ferocity of it. She had used the little sunscreen she had for the kids; she would take the burn and save the money.

Audra allowed herself a brief study of the cruiser as she slipped on her shades: one person in the driver’s seat, male or female, she couldn’t tell. The insignia read: ELDER COUNTY SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT. She turned in a circle, stretched her limbs as she did so, saw the hills that climbed above and behind the store, the quiet road, the tumbling rolls of desert scrub on the other side. As she completed the circle, she took one more look at the sheriff’s car. The driver took a drink of something, appeared to be paying her no attention.

She stepped onto the concrete porch, walked toward the door, felt the wash of cool air as she opened it. Despite the chill, stale odors rode the current out into the heat. Inside, the dimness forced her to lift her shades onto her forehead, though she would rather have kept them on. Better to risk being remembered for buying water than for tripping over boxes, she thought.

An elderly lady with dyed black hair sat behind the counter at the far end of the store, a pen in one hand, a puzzle book in the other. She did not look up from it to acknowledge the customer’s presence, which suited Audra well enough.

A cooler full of water and soda hummed against the wall. Audra took three bottles of water and a Coke.

‘Excuse me,’ she called to the elderly woman.

Without lifting her head, the woman said, ‘Mm-hm?’

‘You got a coffee machine?’

‘No, ma’am.’ The woman pointed her pen to the west. ‘Silver Water, about five miles that way, they got a diner. Their coffee’s pretty good.’

Audra approached the counter. ‘Okay. Just these, then.’

As she placed the four plastic bottles on the counter, Audra noticed the glass cabinet mounted on the wall. A dozen pistols of different shapes and sizes, revolvers, semi-automatics, at least as far as she could tell. She’d lived on the east coast all her life, and even knowing Arizona was gun country, she still found the sight of the weapons startling. A soda and a gun, please, she thought, and the idea almost made her laugh out loud.