Infinity + One (15 page)

He remembered something he’d read once, just a snippet from some popular mechanics article. Funny—he could even remember the page number. His mind was like that, always associating a number with a piece of information. He called Shayna over and had her follow his instructions, turning the key to the alternator position and pumping the gas pedal while he bounced lightly on the back of the car.

“See if you can pop it into neutral,” he said, and felt the moment the car shifted out of park.

“You did it!” Shayna squealed.

“Now you steer as I push. Let’s get you out of the way before we try anything else.”

Bonnie and the kids came trundling out of the gas station, following them to the far side of the parking lot, sure that he’d fixed the problem. But in spite of the small success, the car still wouldn’t shift into drive, and Clyde didn’t dare shift it back into park for fear he wouldn’t be able to get it out again. He tried everything he could think of and then looked at the young mother in defeat. Her jaw was clenched, and she was blinking hard, and he could tell she was about to cry.

“How far is home?” he asked.

“We live in Portsmouth.”

“Where’s Portsmouth?

“It’s directly south of here, about a three hour drive. My in-laws live in North Carolina so they can’t help, but I can call my parents. They both work, though, and can’t leave until after six.” It was now noon.

“Husband?”

“My husband’s in Afghanistan.”

Well, shit.

“Finn?” Bonnie only had to say his name, and he knew what she wanted. She waited, her eyes on his.

“We’ll take you home.” Clyde said before he could think too hard about it. “It’s not that far out of our way.” Just three hours.

“I can’t leave the car. I have to get it back to Portsmouth, and I can’t pay to have it towed all that way.” Shayna was trying to hold it together, but the loss of the car was apparently the last straw.

“Finn?”

Clyde had no idea why that one word was so effective coming out of Bonnie’s lips, but he found himself suggesting something so horrendous he had to question if Bonnie used her voice to carry out mind control. Maybe that’s why she was a super star.

“We’ll pull it behind the Blazer. I’ve got a hitch, and I can get my hands on some chains. It’ll be slow going, but we’ll get you home.”

Bonnie beamed at him. Yep. Mind control.

Finn went to secure some chains and Bonnie bustled around rearranging bags and boxes to clear out the middle seat. Shayna took what she needed from her car, and the women went back inside for a final bathroom break.

Within a half hour, the green Ford Fiesta was rolling along behind the old Blazer, traveling at a blistering speed of forty-five miles an hour. It was going to be a long, long drive. Finn almost wished the cops would pull him over and haul him off.

I PULLED OUT Finn’s guitar about a half hour into the trip. I’d placed it in the front to make room for our passengers, and I’d sung a few songs just to keep them entertained. I was pretty sure little Katy knew exactly who I was. Finn was pretty sure of it too, and he kept shooting me looks, and I kept giving him smiles. He needed to relax. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and nobody was going to be sending him to jail. He clearly wasn’t used to having people talking about him, having news stories about him, having to live with the whole world thinking they were entitled to your business just because you sold records. I wasn’t worried about the police, and I definitely wasn’t worried about Katy Harris and her mama and baby sister calling the tabloids the minute we reached Portsmouth.

“Your name is Bonnie and you sound just like Bonnie Rae Shelby,” Katy said, her voice hushed and her eyes wide. “You look like her too, but with different hair.”

“That’s because I
am
Bonnie Rae Shelby,” I said. Finn looked at me and rolled his eyes. I stuck out my tongue and Katy laughed.

“How come you cut off your hair?” Katy obviously had no trouble believing I was who I said I was.

“I needed a change,” I lied. She didn’t need to know about the meltdown I’d had over my resemblance to Hank. “Just think, your hair will be as long as mine soon, and then you’ll be able to say you have Bonnie Rae hair, right?”

“Yeah! Except my hair is blonde . . . when I have hair, that is.”

“Well, then. I might just have to go blonde again so that we can be twins. Will you send me pictures so I can get the color just right?”

Katy’s mama, Shayna, was staring at me with her mouth hanging wide open. She blinked a few times and then closed her mouth without saying a word.

“Will you sing another song?” Katy asked.

“Sure. What’s your favorite one?”

“I love all of them. You choose.”

“Well, Finn likes a song called “Goober Peas”—I think baby Riley would like it too.” Finn just shook his head, and I tried not to laugh. He was such a grouch. I launched into an exuberant version of “Goober Peas” which the baby did indeed enjoy, kicking her chubby legs in her car seat, but which had Finn wincing.

“There’s a song my daddy used to sing called “Down in the Valley.” It’s kind of a sad one, but Riley looks a little sleepy. Maybe I can sing her to sleep, whaddaya think?” Shayna looked like she was ready to keel over too, and maybe if the baby slept, she would get a much-needed nap.

“Okay.” Katy smiled, nodding.

“
Down in the valley, valley so low

Hang your head over, hear the wind blow

Hear the wind blow, love, hear the wind blow

Hang your head over, hear the wind blow”

“Roses love sunshine, violets love dew

Angels in heaven know I love you

Know I love you, love, know I love you

Angels in heaven know I love you
.”

I had to stop suddenly, the words getting to me. Katy had pulled off her sock monkey cap and laid her head down on her mother’s lap. Her thin neck looked scarcely big enough to hold up her bare head, and her mama stroked the smooth skin as I sang. There was a time Minnie had looked just like Katy, bald head and all, and the sight of Katy’s little hairless head was almost more than I could bear.

Finn glanced at me, his gaze sharp, not missing much, I was sure, and I played a few measures on the guitar, trying to control the emotion that had caught me off guard. It was the line about angels in heaven, I supposed. I winked at Finn, pretending I was just fine, and sang a different verse that wouldn’t make me think of Minnie.

“Write me a letter, send it by mail

Send it in care of the Birmingham jail

Birmingham jail, love, Birmingham jail

Send it in care of the Birmingham jail.”

“Nice, Bonnie Rae,” he said under his breath. I winked again and blew him a little kiss to let him know I was just teasing him. I could have changed the words to Norfolk Penitentiary, but it had too many syllables and didn’t rhyme with mail.

“He’s in jail?” Katy asked.

I stopped playing in surprise. “Who?”

“The guy in the song,” Katy answered. “He’s in jail, and she’s an angel in heaven?”

“No. I mean, yeah. He’s in jail, but she’s not an angel . . . she’s just a girl he loves, and he wishes she would love him back,” I said.

“And write him letters?” Katy asked.

“Yep. Write him letters while he’s in the penitentiary,” I answered cheerfully.

Finn sighed the sigh of a man with little patience left. I did my best not to laugh.

“There’s another verse too, Katy. You’ll like this one. It’s about a castle.

Build me a castle, forty feet high

So I can see her as she rides by

As she rides by, dear, as she rides by

So I can see her as she rides by.”

“It’s Rapunzel!” Katy whispered and tried to sit up from her mother’s lap.

Shayna’s eyes were getting heavy, and the little girl slid out from under her mother’s arm and scooted up until she was leaning between the front seats, completely tuned in to the song that was about another apparent favorite. I didn’t point out that the man was the one in the castle and the girl was riding by.

“It’s kind of like you, Bonnie. You cut off your long hair too. Just like Rapunzel.”

“That’s right, Katy. That’s because a mean old witch locked me up at Tower Records, and I had to wait for my boyfriend to get out of jail and come rescue me.”

“What the fu—heck are you talking about?” Finn asked, amending his curse at the last minute for the sake of the little girl who was hanging on every word.

A little snort escaped out of my nose at the incredulous look on his face, and Katy giggled.

“Bonnie Rae,” Finn choked out, finally laughing, “can we please change the subject?”

“Well. Singing is what I do best. Why don’t you entertain for a minute, Clyde?”

“What are you good at, Clyde?” Katy asked sweetly.

“Finn’s good at math,” I answered for him when he stayed silent.

“Oh, yeah? What’s twenty times twenty” Katy challenged.

“Four hundred,” Finn answered. “But that one wasn’t very hard. I bet you knew that one too.”

“Ask him one you don’t know. Something really hard,” I instructed.

“What’s six hundred and ninety . . . five,” Katy scrunched up her nose trying to make the number as complicated as she could. “Times four hundred and . . . fifty-two?”

Finn hardly stopped to think. “Three hundred fourteen thousand, one hundred forty.”

Katy and I both stared. I’m sure my face resembled Shayna’s stunned expression of not too long ago. I should have known.

Katy was immediately digging in her mother’s purse, rifling through wadded-up receipts and hair bands until she pulled out a dinky, red calculator that looked as if it had come out of a kid’s meal. She asked Finn several more problems, checking his answers on the little device. One time she crowed that he was wrong, only to realize she’d entered the numbers incorrectly.

She kept at it for at least a half hour, and Finn answered correctly, and quickly, every time. Katy was blown away. I was blown away. She continued grilling him until Finn shot me a sideways glance and mouthed, “Help.”

“What’s infinity plus one?” I interrupted Katy, asking Finn my own question.

“It’s still infinity,” Finn said, sighing.

“Wrong. It’s two.”

“Oh yeah? How do you figure?”

I pointed at Finn and said, “Infinity.” Then I pointed at myself and said, “Plus one. That’s two, genius.”

“I really wish I hadn’t told you my name.”

“Ha. Gotcha! You think you’re so good at math, but I just stumped you.”

Katy clapped, and I distracted her further by saying, “Here Katy. I have a cooler trick than Finn’s. I can show you how to write
poop
on a calculator . . . now that’s awesome.” I pulled the calculator from her little hands and proceeded to teach her some potty humor every kid should know.

Finn grabbed it from my hand and punched in some numbers and passed it back. When I turned it upside down it read “hILLBILLI.” Well, I definitely was that.