Time Games Page 20

  And there was like a cloud of dust this time and he swung his head around and saw that he was back on the interstate, cars whooshing by like before, except he realized he was on the opposite shoulder now, everybody heading south toward Salt Lake City.

  Pike had an instinctive feeling that he’d get picked up again before too long, except he’d have to cross over, to be going back north, and he could make out, way down there, an overpass, and unfortunately this was going to require doing some more running, which was starting to get real old.

  But he’d gone less than a mile when a car pulled over, and miraculously . . . though Pike knew once again that nothing in this altered stuff was truly miraculous . . . it was Eva and Dave.

  Pike got in, and they knew him . . . which was even more bizarre . . . and they asked what in God’s name he was doing here again?

  Then it started making some sense, and he asked what day it was and they said it was Monday, and Pike said a Halloween Monday? And they said the one and only.

  The reason there was a semi-logic to things now is Eva and Dave would know him, that’s true, since they picked him up the first time on Sunday, the day before.

  So yeah, okay, that part would still be intact. Naturally, it wasn’t all quite the same, as Eva now had the cast, this time a pink one on her wrist, and Dave was fine and driving.

  Not surprisingly, she was the basketball player this time and got hurt in a scrimmage last week and was in a bad mood, and Dave was the most happy-go-lucky dude around.

  In any case, they drove south a few miles and then conferred among themselves, and next thing Dave got off at Exit 121a and turned it around and starting heading back north toward Pokey.

  “What just happened?” Pike said.

  “Ah, we cut out at lunch today,” Dave said. “Half the school is. We were going to the mall in Salt Lake. But now it doesn’t make as much sense . . . We’ll take you back to the Super 8 . . . or wherever.”

  “Gee thanks,” Pike said. “On account of me, you’re turning around?” Not knowing exactly how it worked, except that it wasn’t as simple as all that.

  “Not on account of you, no,” Dave said. “So you don’t have to feel guilty or nothing . . . What it is, she forgot something she had to do for her mom.”

  Yeah right, Pike thought. “Either way,” he said, “you’re helping me out.”

  “You ever find that Robinson’s place I was telling you about? Where I heard they do Karaoke? If I have the right joint.”

  Pike said, “As a matter of fact I did. And I’m going back up there tonight.”

  Dave laughed and Eva laughed a little, not much, clearly ticked off about her wrist and having to miss a bunch of games. Dave said, “Well don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” And they didn’t say much more until they were back in Pocatello and Pike was getting out, and he reminded them again he’d probably be in Arizona at Christmas and to come on down.

  They said they’d keep it in mind, and they got out of there, Pike figuring they were convinced for sure now, the second time around, that he was totally off his rocker.

  He’d been thinking if there was an alternate way to handle it. One way would be to go out to Nampa (he’d looked it up, it was a suburb of Boise) and derail the old couple so they weren’t on the road the same time as the asshole, and there wouldn’t be a collision. Maybe.

  But that’d be a lot of work, even if you could pull it off--and you’d still have to make your appearance with Chuck and sell him on the fake audition.

  So try to keep it simple, and maybe you could tweak something and get lucky.

  Pike took a cab to Kinko’s, went through the phony document routine again, and took another one back up to Robinson’s. It was around 5:30 by this time and he went in and had a burger, and it wasn’t too crowded yet but you could feel the place bracing for the Halloween onslaught.

  The Hispanic kid busboy was running around, already working hard, and Pike hoped he wouldn’t need him this time, but you never knew what Chuck might come in dressed as.

  Sure enough, close to nine a hockey player comes lumbering in . . . same dumb walk . . . and, not throwing anyone out of the way exactly but not worrying too much about it either, forces his way up to the bar.

  This time the idiot was a New York Rangers’ goalie.

  Pike again questioned the logic of that, since you had the Colorado Avalanche in the league now, plus so many other teams closer than New York or Boston.

  But whatever . . . Pike waited until it felt right, went up to the guy and gave him the speech, most of it right there at the bar this time, and then with Chuck once-again googley-eyed, got him outside and up to the corner and told him he needed that audition song, just to make sure he really qualifies.

  It was a little strange, because this time Chuck was less hesitant to start singing, and didn’t stall and question the need for this, right here on the street, like he did last time.

  “I don’t mind,” Chuck said. “Any particular style of music y’all prefer?”

  Saying y’all now, which he hadn’t before, but Pike had to keep reminding himself that was how this worked.

  Pike was going to let him pick what he wanted, hoping it at least wouldn’t be the Justin Bieber song this time, but then he thought of something.

  “Actually,” he said, “can you make it a Christmas song?”

  “In October?” Chuck said. “You for real?”

  “Yeah, well, you never know,” Pike said. “It can’t hurt to spread a little good will around . . . Regardless.”

  Chuck was trying to come up with one, it seemed like, and he said, “I hear you, I do . . . how about . . . ‘Some Children See Him’ ?”

  Pike had never heard of it but told Chuck that would be fine, and to go ahead.

  It was a surprisingly slow, almost mournful song, and when Chuck launched into a second verse after the chorus Pike had to concentrate to avoid slightly tearing up.

  It was the song, not Chuck, but Chuck was actually halfway decent on it, much as it killed Pike to admit it, and a group of people stopped and listened. When it was over, there was polite applause, and one guy shook Chuck’s hand.

  “Well that was kind of wild,” Chuck said, after the little audience had scattered.

  “It was,” Pike said. “The holidays bring out the best in people.”

  “Maybe so . . . So we all set? Thursday night? Anything else?”

  “There is,” Pike said. “What time did I tell you?”

  “You said 8,” Chuck said.”

  “Well that should be good,” Pike said.

  “You sure? Looks like you’re thinking about something.”

  “100 percent . . . See you in the lobby. Drive carefully and don’t be late.”

  Chuck mumbled something about appreciating the opportunity, and went back into the bar, and there was a taxi dropping some people off and Pike didn’t fool around this time with a bus, and got in.

  Of course he wasn’t 100 percent sure about the 8 o’clock business.

  But that was the original time last time, until he’d gotten fancy and changed it 9 at the last minute.

  The reasoning had been, if the doofus turned around quick enough after realizing he’d been double-crossed and made it back to Robinson’s at a reasonable hour, he might still meet Dani that night.

  But that was a chance you had to take, given what happened to Mrs. Gallyo.

  Pike got out of the cab at the Super 8, not to stay overnight this time but to use that facility he’d discovered up the hill and into the brush and down that fire trail. Pocatello was a relatively old town, a railroad town actually, and there were plenty of other locations that would probably work, but this was a proven one, so why fool around.

  Once again, you had the abandoned watershed tunnel, though at night now, and everything felt different, and Pike hoped it was still abandoned, meaning no homeless in there, or animals, or much water. He had his phone with him this time and one thing it was good for was the flas
hlight, and he found his way down the trail, made a bunch of noise just in case, and went inside and took care of business.

  Chapter 28

  Lucy’s place was pleasant. She lived in a complex called Palm Breeze Manor that, now that Pike was looking around, was quite a bit nicer than where Mitch was holing up.

  More importantly, Lucy was a nice person. Perky and upbeat and pretty darn agile for someone in her mid-60’s, and Pike could understand why Mitch probably had a thing for her.

  She said she was going to her son’s tomorrow, in Phoenix, where some of the grandkids were, and her daughter from New Jersey and the rest of them were coming in as well.

  But she announced that today she was thrilled to be able to entertain all these unexpected guests.

  Pike was thinking this is one special lady, but . . . he knew he needed to clear the decks, and he excused himself for what he prayed would be the final time this Christmas, and walked out behind the tennis courts where he had a little privacy, to check in with Dani.

  Before he called her he looked at his messages and there was one from good old Frankie, simply wishing him a Merry Christmas, no other news attached . . . And another from Dave, the Idaho guy, saying he and Eva decided to come to Arizona after all, and they were on their way and it would be fun to hang out if he remembered them and really was there.

  What do you know.

  The conversation with Dani was almost identical to before . . . which was actually earlier today . . . the only difference being, Dani hung up on him this time when he over-did it, calling him a jerk first.

  But that was fine. Same result, like this morning, pretty convincing that she’d never met the guy.

  Now for the moment of truth, Part 2.

  Charles Kolskie was again in the search results, but this time only once, for donating 5 cases of Sunkist Orange Soda to a Kiwanis Club charity barbeque in 2014.

  Pike searched it again, just to be safe, making sure he spelled everything right, and there it was once more, just as tame.

  He sat down in one of the outdoor chairs and put his head back.

  After a couple minutes he got up and came back inside, and Lucy was serving these amazing-looking appetizers and Andrea was helping her. Jack and Mitch were in an energetic discussion, and a game was on.

  Dinner was equally amazing, right down to the homemade wild berry pie, Pike thinking how the heck did Lucy have time for that?

  Then they sat in the living room and it was getting dark out, and some Christmas music came on, a choir, and Jack was kind of paired up with Andrea now, and Mitch and Lucy were together as well.

  Lucy’s friend Gertrude, from one of the other apartments, had stopped by for dessert, and now she was sitting by herself on one of the couches, so Pike joined her.

  “So what do you think?” he said. “Should we go play some Christmas pickleball?”

  Gertrude laughed. “You’re an amusing young man,” she said. “I’ve been observing you.”

  “Oh boy. Hopefully I haven’t done anything wrong then.”

  “So far, you’ve been a model citizen,” Gertrude said.

  “Stick around,” Pike said.

  THE END

  *****

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, organizations, events or locales, or to any other works of fiction, is entirely coincidental.