Road To Nowhere (16 page)

“John saw the nurse’s face when she let go of the guy. He recognised her in an instant. It was Candy. He almost died right then. I mean, he was close to dying and in the space of two seconds he took a huge step closer. His heart just broke. Candy, his girl, in the arms of some jerk. And with a kid – John couldn’t stop staring at the boy. He looked like his child, he really did. Certainly, he didn’t look like he belonged to the gorilla hugging Candy. The feeling that his family had been stolen from him, without his knowing it overwhelmed John. He sagged against the wall. It was a miracle he didn’t collapse on the floor.

“Then Candy turned and stared straight at him – but she didn’t see him. Oh, she saw a patient, a very sick young man. But she didn’t see John. He could have been invisible, as invisible as he had been the last few years. Nevertheless, she raised a hand to her face and took a step in his direction. She was maybe a hundred feet away.

“‘Do you need help, sir?’ she asked.

“A tear ran down John’s face. He shook his head.

“‘Get back to bed,’ Candy called. ‘You’ll feel better soon.’

“John nodded. Candy turned and disappeared into the elevator with her family. He thought they looked happy together.

“John walked back to his room and changed into the clothes he had been wearing when he entered the hospital. He left without checking out. The night sky was filled with clouds. His car was parked in the lot, an old piece of junk that wasn’t worth the cost of the registration sticker on the licence plate. It was all he had left in the world. He didn’t even have his memories anymore. Because the only ones he had cherished had been from his time in high school with Candy. But now she had stolen them from him, turned them to grief. He blamed her for not waiting for him. It sounds crazy, but in his heart he had always believed he’d find her again and that they would be together. Just as soon as he got his life back on track, he had told himself. But now there was no possibility of that. His life was over – he felt it end when he saw her beautiful face at the end of the hall. Yeah, she was still as beautiful, after all these years, and here he was a corpse just waiting to start rotting.

“John needed a fix in the worst way. He drove to his most trusted friend, his pusher. The bastard wouldn’t give him any heroin. He wanted money, and John didn’t have any. John pleaded with him, but it was like pleading with the devil to please lower the thermostat. Yet the guy did do something John wouldn’t have expected. He ran in the back and got an unmarked handgun and gave it to him. John just stared at the gun. He had never used one before and tonight was not a good night to start. His left hand was shaking along with his right because he was so weak.

“‘Pull a job, bring me some cash,’ his friend said. ‘Then I’ll see what I can do for you.’

“John nodded. He left the place. He still didn’t want to hurt anybody, but everybody was hurting him. All he wanted was one fix, just one shot straight into his veins and he knew he’d be able to think clearly again. He imagined that if he could just get that one fix he might check himself back into the hospital. Then maybe Candy would drop down a couple of floors and nurse him back to health. He laughed at the absurdity of the idea as he drove through the stormy night, the rain plastering his windshield, his tears plastering his face. He knew he wasn’t going back to the hospital. He knew he was going nowhere.

“He drove for a long time before he spotted a store that looked deserted enough to hit. But he hadn’t gone far because he drove mainly in circles. He parked in front of the mini-mart and climbed out into the night. He was wet, he was cold. He staggered towards the door. He couldn’t see anyone inside except for the short fellow behind the counter. He figured he’d whip out his gun, get the money, and be gone in the blink of an eye. He was thinking about how good the fix would feel bubbling in his veins when he opened the door and stepped inside. He had the gun hidden in his belt under his coat. He was so out of it he hadn’t even checked to see if it was loaded.

“He didn’t stride straight up to the counter and get down to the robbing business, however. He wasn’t sure why, but it might have been because he was inexperienced. After he was inside the store, he thought it might be a good idea to browse around first, maybe pick out a few items, and then saunter up to the counter. Then, when the guy was ringing up the stuff he could whip out his gun. Yeah, he thought, that sounded like a plan. Even a dying man needed a plan. The guy in the store followed his every move.

“John picked out items that he actually wanted: a six-pack of beer, a box of doughnuts, a carton of milk. He didn’t know if he would be able to keep any of the food down, he’d been vomiting non-stop for the last week, but he thought the stuff would be better than what they’d been trying to feed him at the hospital. He walked up to the counter and piled the goods up. The employee looked him over real close and asked to see his I.D. That made John laugh.

“‘I look like I’m ready to bury and you want to see if I’m legal?’ John asked. ‘Sure, I’ll show you my I.D. I’ve got it right here.’

“John pulled out his gun and pointed it at the guy, who immediately raised his hands. Yet he didn’t look that surprised. It was as if he got held up regularly. John told him to give him every dollar he had. The guy popped the cash register and began to stack the dollar bills on the counter. John thought he was doing pretty well for a first timer.

“Then a young woman entered the store. John glanced over at her and almost dropped his gun. It was Candy, but it couldn’t be Candy, he thought. Not twice in the same day. Man, talk about fate. It was a night of nightmares. Candy had her eyes open now. She ran towards him, calling his name.

“At the same time the guy behind the counter crouched down, going almost out of sight, reaching for something that John would have bet the clothes he was standing in was a gun. John didn’t want the guy to come back up shooting. So he fired a shot into the bottles on the wall behind the counter. Seagram 7 splattered everywhere and the air was thick with the smell of whisky.

“‘I wouldn’t if I was you,’ John told the guy. Slowly the man began to stand back up, his hands in the air once more. All this time, of course, John had Candy hurrying towards him calling his name. Well, she had never had good timing, he thought. He shook his gun in her direction and shouted, ‘Stay!’

“Candy stopped. She stared at him with her big brown eyes. ‘It’s me, John,’ she said.

“‘I don’t know any John,’ he said.

“She took a step towards him. She didn’t even have the decency to put her hands in the air and here it was his first hold-up. ‘That’s not going to work,’ she said. ‘I know who you are and you know who I am.’ She grimaced. ‘What are you doing with that gun? You look terrible.’

“He sneered. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to get the gun colour coordinated with my outfit. Get the hell out of here, Candy. Can’t you see I’m busy?’

“She was ashen, an improvement, though, over John’s colour. His hepatitis had turned him the colour of a sick lemon. She took another step towards him. Not many more and she would be able to reach out and take the gun from him.

“‘It was you I saw at the hospital this evening,’ she said.

“‘It took you long enough to notice,’ he said.

“‘That means you’re sick,’ she said. ‘You should be in bed.’ She stopped and grimaced again. ‘What happened to your hand?’

“That question really annoyed John. He hadn’t seen her in God knows how long and she had to immediately point out his most sensitive flaw. I tell you, that Candy had no class.

“‘I got it caught in a hot dog bun machine,’ he said bitterly, his voice cracking. ‘But I don’t want to talk about it right now. I want you to get out of here. I want you to go home to your husband and your son and I want you to leave me alone!’ John fired another shot into the whisky bottles, the dark liquid and the glass flying everywhere. The guy behind the counter had begun to fidget in ways John didn’t appreciate. ‘You finish counting out my money or I’ll kill you!’ he screamed.

“The guy got back to work emptying the cash register. Candy just stood where she was, staring at John. He was surprised when she started weeping. ‘What’s happened to you?’ she cried. ‘Why are you doing this?’

“He never did get a chance to tell her why because right then all three of them heard police sirens. They were close. It sounded as if the cops would be there in seconds. That they were heading straight for the store John didn’t doubt for a second. He realized the guy behind the counter must have pressed a button the instant John pulled the gun. No wonder the guy had been emptying the register so slowly. He knew he had help coming.

“‘Dammit!’ John swore. He switched the gun to his bad hand and tried scooping the money off the counter with his left and into his pockets. But he was in too much of a hurry and most of it ended up on the floor. The sirens grew louder. They were practically outside the door! He wouldn’t be able to go out the front way, he realized. He’d have to try to escape out the back. He turned away from Candy. He could see the rear exit at the end of a narrow dark hallway.

“‘Don’t run, John!’ Candy cried at his back. ‘They’ll kill you!’

“He was in no mood to listen to her. He might have been if he hadn’t seen her that evening at the hospital with her family. He might have become a changed man right then, just knowing she was around. But she had let him down again. She had cheated on him with another man. He ran down the hallway towards the rear exit

“It was locked. His luck was rotten. He pounded on the wire mesh door with his bad hand and his pain and sorrow and fear in that moment were of truly tragic proportions. He was a trapped and wounded animal. He glanced back the way he had come. The other guy had guts, John had to hand it to him. Even with the police only seconds away, he was going for his gun. John pointed his own in the guy’s direction, just above his head, and let loose a shot. The bullet hit the front window of the store and the entire sheet of glass collapsed. The checker jumped and raised his hands over his head.

“John ran back to the front of the store. He was passing the counter when two police officers pounced inside, their revolvers drawn.

“‘Freeze!’ they shouted in unison.

“John froze for only a second. Then he did something he wouldn’t have believed he’d have done in a million years. Of course, that was just the point. He had only a split second to react. He grabbed Candy and placed her in front of him as a shield. She didn’t make a sound. Hanging on to her by the hair, he raised his gun to her head.

“‘Drop your guns!’ John ordered. ‘If you don’t, I’ll kill her.’

“The police glanced at each other. They were young, inexperienced. They had made a mistake – both coming into the store at the same time. John could see only one car outside. They had no back-up. They were scared. They didn’t want to drop their guns. They had no idea what he would do. He had no idea. He just wanted a moment to think, to have a shot of heroin and be at peace. Or maybe just a moment to talk to Candy. He had a gun to her head, true, but right then he imagined a talk might be nice; that she might be able to set his mind and body at peace.

“‘John,’ Candy said calmly. ‘I have to tell you something.’

“Her speaking surprised him. She should have been crying or screaming, but she said his name so normally he couldn’t help but respond. ‘What?’ he asked.

“She didn’t get a chance to answer him. One of the cops had dropped his gun, but the other wasn’t going to chance it. He wasn’t going to risk his life, although he was all too happy to risk the life of an innocent bystander. He aimed his gun at John, who stood ever so slightly to the left of Candy. Naturally, though, being half a foot taller than Candy, John was exposed. The cop fired.

“The bullet caught John in the side of the neck. It hit him with the force of a freight train. John let go of Candy and dropped to his knees. His blood gushed over his shirt. The cop fired again. This bullet caught John in the belly. It tore open the scar where he had been knifed. More blood poured out. That was all John could see for a moment, his life draining away from him on to the dirty floor of the mini-mart. He didn’t want it to end this way, looking down into the dirt. He spent the last few years of his life crawling in the mud and he wanted to go out with a vision of something beautiful. He looked up and saw Candy staring down at him. She smiled, he thought she smiled. Suddenly everything started to go dark. But he still had his gun in his hand, he could feel it. Oddly enough, he had it in his right hand, and the fingers, in the last few seconds of his life, even the phantom fingers, suddenly stopped hurting. His whole hand felt whole again. It was the most wonderful feeling. He flexed his hand.

“Well, can I say that and have you believe it? Or should I just say he pointed the gun at Candy and fired? That would probably be closer to the truth because he did shoot her. And it would be fair to say he wanted to, either because of what she had done to him or simply because he didn’t want to die alone on the dirty floor. He shot Candy in the heart, and her smile faded as a big dark stain formed in the centre of her shirt. He watched her fall towards the floor, slowly. But he didn’t see her hit. He heard another shot, and it must have been from the cop because his own gun had fallen out of his hand. He saw a flash of red. He heard an eerie
splat
sound. As he fell backwards, he figured it must have been the sound of his brains hitting the wall behind him.

“He died, they both did. But doesn’t everybody?”

Free paused. “And that’s the story of John and Candy.

“God,” Teresa whispered, shocked by the sudden violent ending.

“Would you say I described everything accurately, my dear?” Free asked Poppy.

“Just beautifully, Jack,” Poppy said.

CHAPTER TWELVE

They didn’t talk much after the death of John and Candy. Free leaned back and began to snore softly. Poppy did not resume her endless chain-smoking. But periodically she would flick her lighter, stare at the flame for a few seconds, and then put it out. Teresa, for her part, continued to fight against the pain in her body. She searched for a place to turn off and buy aspirin. Several times she thought she’d have to pull over to the side and vomit. In reality, the further she went, the more confused she became about their whereabouts. They had passed San Luis Obispo enough hours ago that they should have entered Big Sur. And they had entered a wooded area, but the trees were not redwoods. She didn’t know what they were except that they were tall and dark and incredibly bunched together. The branches on the trees frightened her. They hung like tired arms, and sometimes they shook even when the wind wasn’t blowing. She could no longer see the ocean, although she believed she could hear it. The sound of water had followed her since she got in her car earlier that evening: falling rain and crashing waves –- water running, as she was running.