Vegas Sunrise (28 page)

Prodding, picking, and poking, Sunny tossed flashlights, crackers, matches, a bottle of brandy, a small first-aid kit with a snow-white cross on the front and two tightly folded blankets. As an afterthought she threw a third blanket and a second package of graham crackers onto the pile. She eyed her treasure. She was about to close the cabinet when she saw the neat row of green-and-red portable shovels. She tossed two of them on top of the blankets. Opening her jacket, she stuffed as much as she could inside and zipped up the jacket. She slid on her rear end back to where Harry was sleeping. She piled everything neatly to the side before she rear-ended her way back for the rest of the things.

Eight minutes until it was time to wake Harry. Sunny spent the time staring at the long line of snowmobiles. She knew there was something wrong, but she didn't know what it was. Then it hit her. The machines were on a track. The same kind of track used at carwashes. Electric tracks. “Shit!” she said succinctly. Now what were they going to do?

Sunny rolled over and over until she came to a stop by the line of snowmobiles. Maybe there was a generator somewhere. They had generators on Sunrise and at Babylon. Her father had shown her how to use them. “You turn on the switch, Sunny.” She giggled. It was that simple. Where was it? She fished around in the pocket of her ski jacket for one of the packs of matches. Cupping her hands, she managed to get a five-second look before the match went out. The generator was right where it was supposed to be; at the far left of the last snowmobile on the track. Two switches. A black one and a red one. She surmised that since the track ran under the barn door, one switch must be for the track and the other one must be for the door.

Rolling over twice, Sunny was able to see into the snowmobile. Some were two-seaters. Others were single. A double was the first in line. The second was a single. Harry could take the double and the gear. If they decided to go ahead with their plan.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Sunny shouted as she rolled her way over next to Harry.

Harry bolted awake. “Is it still snowing?”

“The wind is shrieking. It's hard to see through the windows. My guess would be yes, and harder than before. Look what I found, Harry. I also discovered another problem but I also solved it. The snowmobiles are on a track like they have at carwashes. That means it's electric. However, there is a generator, and guess who knows how it operates. Me. You ponder all this while I take my nap. Whatever you decide will be all right with me. How's you nose?”

“It hurts like the devil.”

“Roll over by the door and scoop up some snow and make a snowball. Hold it on your nose for a while. The snowmobiles are on a track that leads to that far door, not the door we came in. I can see the snow on the floor from here. Don't forget to wake me up, Harry.”

A second later Sunny was asleep, sliding down the mountain with Jake and Polly in front of her on an oversize sled, her father behind her in a fat black inner tube.

“Are we going faster than the wind, Mama?” Jake asked, clutching her arm with all the strength in his small body.

“We sure are. Look at Pop Pop. He's laughing so hard he's going to fall out of that tube,” Sunny squealed.

“More, more, more,” Polly chortled.

“Can we do it again, Mama?”

“Sure. As many times as you want.”

“Will we always do this? Will your bad leg get to be a good leg again?”

“I don't think so, Jake. Next year Chue will do this with you.”

“Will you be sad, Mama? Will you cry?”

“I might be a little sad, Jake. I'll smile when I see you on your sled with Chue. If you're happy, Mama will be happy.”

“Will you always be happy, Mama?”

“I hope so, Jake.”

“I like to hear Pop Pop laugh. Do you like to hear him laugh, Mama?”

“I love to hear Pop Pop laugh. When I hear you laugh I feel happy. I don't want you ever to be sad. Sometimes things happen, and they make us sad. We wear a sad face for a little while, but then we have to put on our happy face and get on with the business of living. You know, make the beds, cook, do the dishes, the laundry, pick up toys, things like that.”

“I like the snow. I like it better than swimming.”

“I do too. When I was a little girl, I played in the snow all the time. Do you want to make snow angels when Chue drives us up the mountain? Pop Pop looks tired, so maybe we should make our snow angels and go inside for cocoa. You can put the marshmallows in the cups. Okay? What are you doing, Jake?”

Jake squeezed his eyes shut. “I'm making a wish. Wishes are good, aren't they, Mama?”

“Wishes are very good, Jake. What did you wish for?”

“I made two wishes. I wished that Pop Pop would never go away, and I wished your bad legs get good so you can play in the snow. Is that a sad wish or a happy wish?”

“It's a happy wish,” Sunny said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Will my wishes come true, Mama?”

“You'll just have to wait and see.”

“Sunny, wake up.”

“Are the twenty minutes up already? Did anything happen?”

“I peeled the orange and opened the candy bar. I did the snowball thing, and my nose feels a little better. Were you dreaming?”

Sunny reached for her half of the orange. “I was dreaming about the last time I took Jake and Polly sled riding down the mountain. My father died the next year, and we never got to go again. Chue would bring us back up the hill in the truck. Jake made a wish that day that I would get to play in the snow again. I wonder if that dream was an omen or something.”

“We were talking about Jake and Polly earlier. You dreamed about them because they were on your mind. This is a good orange. Here's the candy. I've been thinking. I think we should replace our battery packs now. We've used up quite a bit of time on the ones we're wearing. If we're going, let's start fresh. What did you decide?”

“We came out here to play in the snow. So, let's go out and play. We'll take the snowmobiles out and ride them for a little while and come back. The barn seems colder to me, so that must mean the temperature is dropping. We'll go in a straight line and turn around at some point and follow the tracks back. How does that sound?”

“It sounds okay. Have you given any thought to how we'll get back to the lodge?”

“I say we drive the snowmobiles right to the front door.”

“That's a great idea, Sunny.”

They were children then as they packed up their orange peels and candy wrappers, stuffing them in their pockets. The battery packs were opened and changed. They were suited up and in the snowmobiles twenty-five minutes later.

Hard, driving wind slammed into them as the snowmobiles slid off the track and onto the snow. If the door made a noise when it closed, neither one heard it. In the lead, Harry turned on his light, Sunny followed suit. It seemed to Sunny that Harry catapulted ahead of her into the swirling snow. She panicked when she lost sight of his headlight. She opened her mouth to shout for him to slow down, but her mouth filled with snow. She clamped her lips shut and increased the speed on her machine until she was directly behind Harry, whose machine had a high-pitched whine that irritated her. Her own machine sounded sluggish and definitely wasn't performing the way Harry's was. When she started to fall farther behind, she sounded the horn. Harry turned his machine and headed toward her, his headlight blinding her.

“What's wrong?”

“I don't know. The engine doesn't sound like yours. You were so far ahead of me I was afraid I'd lose you.”

“Check the gas.”

“Give me one of your flashlights. God, Harry, it's on E. Check yours.”

“I have half a tank. Come on, get in this one. Push the stuff on the floor. Hold my arm, and I'll boost you over the side. Hang on now. Maybe it's better we're together anyway. Ten more minutes and we'll head back.”

“Can you see better with or without the light?”

“It's an either or. I think I'll turn it off. Buckle up, and let's go!”

“Don't go too fast, Harry. We don't have any visibility. You could hit a tree or an outcropping of some kind.” There was pure fright in Sunny's voice when she said, “Harry, I can't see my snowmobile.”

“It's right there, Sunny. The snow can't have drifted that quickly.”

“It did, Harry. Can you see the tracks?” To make her point, Sunny flashed the light she was holding. “They're gone, Harry. The tracks are gone!”

“They can't be gone. Five minutes haven't passed. You aren't shining the light in the right place, Sunny.”

“Then you try it, Harry.” Sunny cringed, hating the fear she was hearing in Harry's voice.

The beam on the powerful flashlight arced to the right and left. All that they could see was swirling snow that drifted as fast as it hit the ground. All signs of the snowmobile and the tracks both machines made earlier were gone.

Harry wiped his gloved hand over his goggles. “It's impossible, but you're right. We're turning around and going back.”

“Harry, you turned around when you came back for me. We're headed in the right direction now.”

“Don't you remember, Sunny, I turned around again after you got in? We were already skimming over the snow.”

“Harry, are you sure? We need to be sure here before we get ourselves lost. I think I'm losing my voice from all the shouting.”

“I'm not sure, Sunny. You aren't sure either.”

“You're right, Harry. I turned around to look at my machine. But, didn't you swerve and turn around when I called your attention to the fact the tracks were obliterated?”

“I can't be sure. I think it was sideways. We could be going east or west for all I know.”

Panic coursed through Sunny. “What . . . what should we do, Harry? You're using up all the gas. We need to make a decision.”

“You make it, Sunny. My vote would be to go straight.”

“Okay, let's go straight. No, no, turn and go the other way. Wait, that doesn't feel right either. Oh, Harry, nothing feels right. I'm scared.”

“That makes two of us. We're going straight. Cross your fingers and say a prayer.”

“Does it feel like we're headed back to the barn, Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry lied.

“You're lying aren't you?”

“Yeah.”

“What's going to happen to us?”

“I don't know, Sunny.”

“Talk to me, Ruby. I need sound, noise, something to take my mind off what we're doing. I gotta tell you I'm piss-assed scared. I don't know if I'm capable of pulling this off. How in the damn hell did you talk that Texan into doing this?”

“Sage, I've been talking nonstop since we became airborne. I don't even know what I said to be honest. Like you, I wanted to hear sound. I thought you'd be tired of hearing me babble by now. You didn't even hear me. You're so caught up in worry you just now realized I'm here. Listen to me—if you weren't scared, there would be something terribly wrong. As for Metaxas, he doesn't know the meaning of the word fear. As you know, according to all the books, there's nothing to fear but fear itself.”

“Worried is more like it. What we're doing is incredibly stupid. I know it, and you know it. Metaxas knows it, and he's out there, ahead of us somewhere.”

“I've always believed it's better to try to do something than sit around and do nothing. Your father said I was a mover and a shaker like he was,” Ruby said, her voice going from a high-pitched wail to a subdued whisper.

“My dad was a mover and a shaker all right.”

“You need to forgive your father, Sage. We don't live in a perfect world, so things go awry. Your father's destiny was carved out for him the day he was born. He played out the hand he was dealt the only way he knew how. If we lived in a perfect world, he would have been a perfect father and you kids would have been the Brady Bunch. You're a better person because of the hand your father was dealt. That's how I see it. I was bitter, too. Ash told me I had the best of the deal, and, you know something, he was right. The best part of your father's saga was that he made things right in the end. Some people don't get to do that. The last few years of his life were his happiest. When your mother needed a break she'd call me and I'd go to the mountain and stay with him for a few days. He balked at first, but I wore him down with my persistence. We became close, and he confided many things to me. It worked for both of us because I didn't judge him, and he didn't judge me.”

“Why do you suppose he kept Jeff a secret? That had to be the lowest blow of all to Mom. To all of us when we found out. Even Grandma Sallie knew.”

“For the same reason my father kept me a secret. Some small part of your father and your grandfather knew it was wrong, and that same small part of them didn't want to hurt anyone else unnecessarily. Stop and think about it. If Ash had told you kids and your mother about Jeff, all of you would have been devastated. He didn't think any of you would have been able to handle it. I think he was right about that. My own father used the same kind of reasoning. What neither one of them took into consideration was how deep the hurt went for me and for Jeff, too, I would imagine. It hurt to my soul. I spent years in therapy trying to get a handle on it. I used to rant and rail from time to time. I said some bitter, ugly things to my mother and father. They'd get tears in their eyes and their shoulders would slump and that would be the end of it until I boiled over again. It was what it was. Nothing can ever change the past. That's what was hard to accept. It's baggage that needs to be left behind in the past. I understand it better, but to this day I still have a hard time with it.”

“I did love him, Ruby. I didn't agree with the way he did things, but I did love him. He did tons of good things that people didn't know about. Then he'd go and do some piss-ass thing that didn't count for beans and blow his horn. I never could figure that out. Our family was never peaceful. There was always some crisis in our lives. Even when Birch and I went East to school we knew something was going on between Mom, Dad, and Simon. It followed us. Birch tried to run. Hell, he went halfway around the world for all the good it did him. You can run, but you can't hide. Birch didn't know that for a long time. He knows now, though. What is your opinion of Celia, Ruby? By the way, in case you're interested, we passed Hartford, Connecticut a little while ago.”

“What's it known for?”

“I have no idea. Paul Newman and some kind of spaghetti sauce. Maybe popcorn. I went to school with a kid from Hartford. So, what's your opinion of Celia?”

Ruby sucked in her breath. Lie or not to lie?

“Celia is a beautiful young woman.”

“I didn't ask you if she was beautiful. I asked you what you thought of her.”

“She's family now, Sage. I thought we valued loyalty above all else.”

“We do, and that's why it does matter, Ruby.”

“Maybe I should ask you what you think of her. In some respects, Sage, I'm still an outsider. I applied for my wings but I'm not sure they've arrived, if you know what I mean. I love it that you kids have accepted me. I'm only a stand-in for your mother at this point in time. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do. Celia scares me, Ruby. The minute I locked eyes on her at the airport the day they arrived she scared me. I had this scary, creepy feeling. I swear to God I looked into her eyes, and I thought I could see straight through her head. Her eyes are translucent. Didn't you ever notice that? I felt . . . you're going to laugh when I tell you this, but I felt like she was
evil.
I couldn't bring myself to hug her or kiss her cheek. I was damn lucky I managed to shake her hand. I haven't changed my feelings either. Sometimes I think she stalks me. She's a game player, and I think she's tied herself into something with Jeff Lassiter. I know this for a fact because Jeff put her up in that special room my father kept at the casino. I had her booted out when I found out. She knows I'm responsible for that. She charged up a storm and then paid off the charges with casino winnings. My gut tells me she doesn't love Birch. That's the bottom line. So, I guess my next question is, why did you hire her, of all people?”

“My back was to the wall, Sage. Billie . . . I'm not blaming anyone, I just didn't have many choices at the time, and it was down to the wire. Too much money was invested to let it wither on the vine. We signed a contract. I can pull it anytime I want. For whatever it's worth, she's been doing a good job. She's incredibly photogenic, and she speaks well. We can rerun the commercials till the end of time as long as we pay her a residual. We can always hire someone else to do the live interviews as time goes on. I thought I was doing the family a service by hiring her. Fair is fair, Sage. Birch brought her here, cut off her funds, and then left her to flounder. Birch was okay with the job offer. At least he said he was. Again, it's what it is.”

“Well, I want it on record that I don't like her, and I don't
trust
her.”

“Are you telling me this because you think we . . . you might not make it? Just how fast are we going, Sage?”

“About 600 knots ground speed. We're inside the jet stream, so we're picking up about a hundred more miles an hour. Flying west to east the predominating winds in the jet stream are 100 to 150, but then you know that. Our ETA is another hour from now. I wasn't thinking clearly when I told you five to six hours. Metaxas will be landing soon if it's possible to set down. Someday I want you to tell me how he got clearance for you to be my copilot when you don't even have a pilot's license.”

“Someday.”

“Dad was a member of the Mile High Club. Did you know that, Ruby?”

“Hell, yes, I knew that. He gave me his pin and patch as a joke. I guess having sex at 5000 feet is supposed to be some kind of major accomplishment. My personal opinion is it's stupid. What is your feeling?”

“Stupid is as stupid does. Once Birch and I sneaked his pins and wore them to school. We thought we were hot stuff until we found out no one knew what the damn pins meant except the principal. He called Dad, who was appropriately pissed off. In private he thought it was a hell of a joke. Mom gave us kitchen duty for sixty days when the principal called her. That meant washing and drying the dishes, setting the table, clearing it, sweeping and scrubbing the kitchen floor, on our knees, and taking out the trash. We had to peel all the vegetables, too. If we couldn't see our faces in the shine of the pots, we got a week added onto the sixty days. Mom made up these little pins that were really buttons and made us wear them.” In spite of himself, Sage chuckled.

“What did the pins say?”

“Kitchen God 1 and Kitchen God 2. I was the two. Birch claims to have Mile High status, but he refused the pin and patch because he swore Mom would think up something worse than the Kitchen God stuff. We were on our honor to wear them twenty-four hours a day.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, but we made up some lie about what it
really
meant. All of our friends wanted one of those pins. It was kind of funny at the time.”

“What is our flight level, Sage?”

“We're at 39,000. We'll be descending soon. We'll pick up the snow around 25,000 feet. See if you can raise Metaxas? Do you really love that guy, Ruby?”

“I do.”

“Then why'd you ask me to look for a husband for you?”

“I was feeling old, vulnerable, you name it. I never, ever, thought Colette would give him a divorce. I got tired of eating myself alive over something that could never be. Shhh, I think I might have him.”

“Sweet baby, is that you?”

“I've been called a lot of things in my day, Metaxas, but never sweet baby.” Sage grinned at Ruby. “Your sweet baby is right here doing what she's supposed to be doing. How's it looking?”

“Bad, boy. Give me a fix on where you are.”

Sage rattled off the information.

“I'm thirty-eight minutes ahead of you at 23,000. This baby is a killer, boy. Everything is closed up tight. I got one angel on the ground I'm going to owe big time if he comes through. He's all we have going for us. There is some kind of flashing light out there that's iridescent. Don't know where the hell it's coming from. Tomorrow neither one of us will have a license.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

Ruby licked at her dry lips. Her tongue felt thick and swollen in her mouth. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't move past her lips.

“Sage, tell my sweet baby I love her.”

“She heard you.”

“Tell him . . . tell him I'm giving up the chicken business,” Ruby gasped because she couldn't think of anything else to say.

“Don't go getting carried away here, Ruby,” Sage hissed.

“Just tell him.”

“Metaxas, Ruby said to tell you she's giving up the chicken business.”

“Sweet baby love, ya'll doing that for Metaxas. Ya'll just made my day. I gotta ask why? We're dropping down to 21,000. No visibility. That strange light is ahead of us. I'm picking up some strange static. Maybe my angel on the ground is trying to make contact. We're signing off now.”

“She's allergic to chicken feathers.”

Sage shuddered at the sound of Metaxas's laughter.

Ruby started to cry. “I just know that fool man is going to get himself killed. I just know it.”

“Ruby, I need you to be quiet now.”

“We're at 36,000 feet; 35,000 feet; 34, 33, 32, 31, 30, 29, 28, 27, 26, 25—and I see snow all around us-24,000 feet, 23, 22, 21. Metaxas was right. There is no visibility—20,000, 19, 18,000 feet.”

Sweat dripped down Sage's face. He knew his hair was plastered to his head in wet strands. In his life he'd never been this scared. He wondered if he'd ever see Iris and the kids again.
Please, God,
help me. If he were at 16,000 feet, Metaxas must be down to around 7,000 or 8,000.
I can do this. I will do this. Oh, yeah. Please, God, help me.”

“Will I do? The Almighty is kind of busy right now.”

“Dad!” Sweat trickled into Sage's eyes. He swiped at it with his sleeve. What was happening here? Was something going to happen? Was his fright and panic taking over, causing him to hallucinate?

“It's me. Wings and all.”

“I need help. My God, is it really you? I don't know if I can do this. Help me. Are you real? Am I sleeping? Am I wigging out?”

“Everything is A-okay. All you need to do is keep your wits about you. I don't think you ever asked for my help before, son. As I recall, you were the defiant one.”

“That's because I was afraid you'd say no. It was better to muddle through than risk a no from you. Where are you?”

“I'm on your left wing. How many times did I tell you a good pilot is only as good as his wingman?”

“Two thousand at least. Are you going to make sure I land safely, Dad?”

“You're going to do that yourself I'm just here to guide you. I really don't think you needed to tell my sister about the Mile High Club.”

“I'm at 13,000 feet, Dad. Zero visibility. Zero, Dad! Where the hell is Metaxas?”

“Sage, who are you talking to?” Ruby asked through clenched teeth. You're going down too fast. Too fast, Sage. Stop mumbling. Who are you talking to?”

“Dad. Shhh, I can't hear him if you keep shouting.”

“Your dad? Where . . . where is he, Sage?”

“On the wing. If you look out, you can see him. He's covered with snow and he's the one making the bright light. Do you think he can feel the cold?”

“Sage . . .”

“You okay, son?”

“I'm fine, Dad. I never thought you'd be my wingman. Never in a million years. How am I doing?”

“You're at 8,000 feet. Did I ever tell you the ultimate high for a pilot is coming in low and fast? Better than an orgasm. Don't do it, though. Listen to me and I'll get you down right behind Metaxas.”

“Maybe you should be helping him, Dad. He's going to slough through it first. Yeah, yeah, you told me that the same time you told me gold wings and navy whites will get you in any woman's s bed. Metaxas isn't as good a pilot as you are . . . were. How do those wings feel? What are they made of?”