1978

When they were packing neither one said anything much. It was a rough night and Conner looked like shit. CJ had changed her mind about coming along, but Harry never thought it would actually happen.

"We shouldn't tell Conner," Harry warned, knowing he wouldn't like it much. But he couldn't leave her there after what had happened with Skinny. When they were at the car loading it up, Harry told Conner what had happened.

"Are you kidding?" Conner's face reddened and the veins stuck out on his neck.

"You weren't there," Harry explained. Then he chuckled. "Well, you were, but man you were out of it. You don't remember anything do you?"

"Hell, no I don't. And now you want to bring her along? You've gotta be mad."

Trying to defend himself wasn't easy and he saw the flaw in his own argument and even knew it was stupid, but something inside him wanted this, more than lust.

The Bug sat over by the trees, alone. As they talked, CJ came up to them bounding with energy and she carried a small bag of things and wore a warm winter coat that made her look like a marshmallow ready for travel.

Harry and Conner were on opposite sides of the car, yelling at one another. Steam poured from their mouths in the cold damp air. Frost covered the car. She ran up to Harry smiling at first, but soon had a worried look on her face.

"Harry, is it ok?" She tugged at his arm.

He looked at her, annoyed that she had to ask. "Look at her Conner," he said offering her enthusiasm to him as evidence that all would be fine.

CJ ran over to Conner and tried to explain, but he pushed her back and shook his head as he threw his pack in the back seat.

She ran around the car bouncing back and forth between the both of them as they argued, squealing like a little pipette flying along the surf, trying to get her own words in, pleading to come along.

Suddenly Conner stopped and stared at the hotel, his mouth agape. Both he and CJ stood motionless staring past Harry, whose back was to the hotel.

"Shit, now you've done it," Conner said.

Harry turned and saw Skinny walking quickly toward them. Skinny grabbed CJ and started dragging her back to the hotel, but she jerked away and ran and stood behind Harry.

Skinny marched up to his foe and swung with his right. This time Harry was certain he was ready for it and ducked out of the way.

But Skinny surprised him with a left sucker punch to the side of his head and Harry went down. Then he grabbed CJ again but she pulled free. And bent down to his side and cooed, "Oh poor baby. That bastard."

Conner had come around the car and helped Harry to his feet and stood beside him.

Skinny turned quickly and ran back into the hotel leaving a trail of steam behind. Harry thought he had given up.

Conner threw his hands in the air and got in the car and started it up. It rattled to life. The passenger door was already open, and he yelled at Harry. "Get in the car, man."

Harry, still a little dazed, stood facing CJ and wondered what he should do with her.

Conner repeated the cheer but this time with more gusto, "Get in the goddamn car. Now."

Just then, a loud crack echoed across the lot. The screen door to the hotel had flown open and smacked into the building. Skinny stood in the frame holding a shotgun. He pumped it and fired it into the air.

Conner cheered Harry on with still more encouragement and Harry had to decide to either leave her behind and save his ass or take her along and possibly get his head blown off.

"Get in the car," Harry said. "That man doesn't look too happy," and he threw her into the front seat. But the bug was moving, and he barely had enough time to hold onto the frame as Conner stepped on the gas and sent the wheels spinning on the gravel lot with the door still open. They had to make a U-turn to get out of the lot, and as the VW swung around Harry held on, almost sliding out from the pull of the car. CJ clung to his coat.

They found the road and headed away from the hotel as shots rent the air, scattering buckshot on the rear side and window of the getaway car. CJ managed to cling to Harry, the door still opened as they accelerated. Harry barely had time to pull his foot inside when Skinny let go with a couple more shots.

Conner drove that thing as if the breath of God were pushing it. The spinning tires sent a cloud of dust and stones back in retaliation to the shotgun. They hurried away from the Arapaho hoping to be long gone before Skinny figured out which way they went. They drove down the long driveway towards the gate that originally welcomed them, it read, "Thank You," in large, white-embossed iron letters.

When he reached the road, Conner turned the wheel sharply, almost tipping the little car on its side.

Harry held his breath.

Conner's knuckles were white gripping the steering wheel.

CJ sat in Harry's lap pounding on his chest and screaming with joy. Conner looked over at Harry scowling and mumbling expletives under his breath, "You beat all. Do you know that? You beat all."

"Don't worry. He's far too busy to be chasin' after me," she said.

After a while, CJ climbed into the back seat and settled in, grinning. And Conner drove aimlessly for about an hour, periodically checking his rearview mirror.

Harry's leg started itching persistently and after a while began to hurt. He scratched it and saw blood on his hand. He turned to look at CJ who saw the blood.

"You've been shot." She already had her head between the seats ready to climb over, pulling at his leg.

"I'm all right. I don't think it's too bad," he said pushing her back into her seat. The car swerved a bit as Conner craned his neck to get a look. Harry urged him to keep his eyes on the road, "We don't all want to die."

But Conner slowed down anyway so he could get a better look at the wound.

"Not here," CJ screamed. "Keep going I'll tell you where to stop. I think there is a place on up ahead where's we can stop and take care of it."

Conner was still frantic since they now had bullet wounds to worry about. "We should call a doctor or something," he said, looking in the rearview mirror at CJ. "Is there a hospital around?"

"No, no," she said quickly. "Don't do that. We can fix it up ahead. There ain't one round here anyway."

"It's just buckshot. No big deal," Harry offered.

No one suggested they call the police. Harry could only imagine the complications of doing that.

"Up ahead," turned into a twenty-mile drive. They were climbing in altitude. An occasional beam of sunlight peered through the murky clouds that highlighted the mountains in the distance. They passed through meadows rolling over fields patched with clumps of trees. Here and there, steam would seep out of the ground. The whole area, up to and including Yellowstone was one big volcano and like Conner, ready to explode.

They drove for twenty more miles with CJ guiding them from memory. Finally, they saw a motel. In the front was a set of gas pumps. The old oval sign, half-lit, read ESSO. Its red letters were fading and the pole that held it had rusted and badly needed paint. It towered over two gas pumps which were old but working. Around the corner by the main building, some rooms extended in an "L" shape and ended snugly tucked into the side of a tree-covered hill. Blue neon lights lined the awning that followed the length of the rooms and flickered in a sickly pale and uneven pattern.

"Pull in there," she said. It was on the left side of the road, and the hill rose slowly up and disappeared into a murky fog. A sign over the diner read, "EAT." Conner drove up to the pump and stopped the engine.

"What are you doing?" said CJ.

"Outta gas. Almost." A man walked slowly over to the car. He stopped near the rear end as if to consider it. He was dressed for fishing; his waders held up by braces. His shirt was a green chamois, and over it all, he had a plaid and patched overcoat with several missing buttons. When he finally made it to the window Conner told the headless body to fill it. He let CJ out of the car so she could go around and look at Harry's leg. The old man watched her. When he seemed satisfied with what she was doing, he took the handle out of the pump and put it in the car's tank. His hoary hands were scarred and broad from years of manual labor; the cold and sun had baked them brown. His thick hands easily unscrewed the cap, lifted the handle, and flipped the switch to begin the pump.

"What else do you sell?" Conner had gotten out and stood next to the old man.

"Breakfast, lunch, dinner. The like," he said. "Best flap jacks. Make our own sausage too."

The man pulled a bluish cloth from his right back pocket and with his other hand produced a bottle of cleaning fluid, which he squirted on the windshield, and gently stroked the glass in circular motions. "Package store in the back."

Conner leaned in the window and whispered, "Should we call the police?"

"No don't do that," CJ said very adamantly.

He looked at Harry and ignored the girl. Harry shook his head. "I'm fine. Just get shit we need. He wondered if he was doing the right thing.

CJ went to work on Harry. She winced when she lifted his pant leg. Blood had already dried, and the jeans were sticking to his leg.

"How's it look?"

"I only see two tiny holes," she said. "Looks like one passed through." She didn't tell him about the shredded flesh on the exit wound of one of the buck shots. She reached in the backseat for something. "Ask him if he has liquor," she said to Harry.

"All kinds." The old man stood slightly hunched over as he pumped the gas and peered into the window them. "There's a package store in the back."

Harry pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to CJ. She took it and ran off toward the store after Conner.

"Whiskey," Harry yelled hoping she heard him. "Irish," he said quietly to himself.

She caught up with Conner, leaving Harry alone with the attendant. As he cleaned the window, he kept looking through it at Harry who was trying to hide the blood. How close are people out here? He wondered. This old guy might call up Skinny and rat on us. Skinny could come along while we're still here and finish the job. The old man did not seem in any hurry, so Harry lay back on the seat. He stared across the valley at the distant mountains. The sun peeped through the thick white clouds. Jacob's ladders shone through here and there and dark storm clouds gathered to the east.

As a child, Harry would imagine that he could reach Heaven by climbing up those ladders where they touched the ground. He had also believed in leprechauns at the ends of rainbows.

The old man was still cleaning the windows when Harry looked at him again. He smiled. "Is it supposed to snow?" Harry asked.

"Eh?"

"Do you think it will snow soon?"

Suddenly, the old man's slow pace broke, and he looked up at the sky, "Na. Gonna start soon. Maybe tomorrow."

CJ came back and pulled a bottle of whiskey from a bag and opened it and poured a little on the wound.

"That hurt?"

"Not as much as you'd think. How does it look?"

"I only see two little holes, Harry," she said wiping at it with a paper towel. One had gone through completely and she said nothing about the fraying it left. She wrapped it with a bandage she got at the store and tied it together to hold it in place. Harry trusted that she knew what she was doing.

"It doesn't hurt," he lied. "Where's Conner?"

"Taking a shit, I guess. I don't know."

The old man leaned down to look through the driver's window. He could not seem to take his eyes off CJ. He said, "Four ninety-eight."

Harry paid him.

CJ stood up out of the car and walked around to the other side, the old man watched her. She walked up close to him. It was cold but she had her coat unzipped just enough to show her breasts.

"You want a sip, Pop," she said, holding up a bottle of Jack Daniels.

He said nothing.

She took a swig and asked for directions.

They talked quietly with their heads above the top of the car where Harry could neither see nor hear. When they had finished, he just looked at her as she climbed back into the car and then he gave Harry the change.

CJ had the bottle in her hand, and she put it into the large bag with the other things she brought from the store and set it on the floor.

"I thought that whiskey was for my leg," he said. She gave him the bottle and he took a drink. She looked back toward the diner, "Where the hell is he?"

Just then, Conner ran back across the parking lot with a couple of bags, shoved them in the car at Harry, and climbed in. "You pay the man?"

"Yeah, let's get out of here."