Page 21 of Goodbye Paradise
“Sorry.”
“It’s not like I don’t feel guilty. But Josh, I couldn’t save her.”
“I understand,” I said quickly.
But he wasn’t finished. “See, I don’t think youdounderstand. Even if I asked for Miriam’s hand, and by some miracle they allowed us to marry, it still wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“Alotof reasons. Even if we got married, and somehow I’m able to build her a house, even though there isn’t any more money for new houses…”
“There isn’t?”
“No. That’s why Ezra doesn’t have a wife. The compound is broke. But even if all that weren’t standing in the way, Miriam would still end up hating me.”
“She wouldnever.”
Caleb thumped his hand on the mattress. “Yeah, she would. Because do you think they’d let me be the one guy with only one wife?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I guess not.”
“Right. So imagine I have two wives, then three. Miriam, plus a couple of poor young things who played with dolls when you and I were already working the farm. And it’s the usual henhouse crap, everybody trying to figure out who’s the favorite wife. Instead of saving Miriam, I get to be the guy who helpsbreak her soul. Hooray for me.”
“Oh,” I said softly.
“Yeah. Not such a pretty picture, right? I don’t want three wives. I don’t even want one.”
“You don’t? Why?”
From the bunk came a big sigh. “No more talking tonight, okay? I can barely keep my eyes open.”
Soon, soft snores came from the bed.
I sat up a long time, watching trucks pull in and out of the lot. And when I finally fell asleep, I dreamt about Caleb warming me up in the hotel bed the previous night. But the dream was a whole lot more interesting than the reality had been.
* * *
By morning, I had a cramped neck and stiff legs.
“You didn’t stretch out?” Caleb asked. “I would have switched places with you.”
“Didn’t think of it,” I lied. When I woke in the night, he’d looked so peaceful on the bunk that I didn’t want to disturb him.
Breakfast was the Two Egg Special in the truck stop diner, a bargain at $2.99. I tried coffee, which I did not like, until Washington suggested adding some half and half. Then I liked it so well I drank every drop.
We saddled up at eight o’clock to drive all day. Caleb sat in front for awhile, while I napped on the bed. When we switched places, I enjoyed watching the scenery roll past the window. We passed Lincoln, and I made Washington laugh by remarking that it was a big city. Soon after, we passed Omaha, and then Des Moines, which both put Lincoln to shame.
We stopped for lunch (another heavenly burger) and dinner (a bowl of soup, because I wasn’t very hungry for real this time.)
Washington bought a newspaper, and asked Caleb to read him the sports section out loud. I didn’t understand half of what he was reading. First down? Punt? Touch back? It was like a different language.
When night fell, we hit Chicago, which was fascinating. And Washington said we weren’t even in therealChicago—just passing a lot of the sprawl to the south of it. But I still couldn’t believe it. The nighttime lights seemed to stretch on forever. The sky wasn’t even black here, it was a sort of orange color. You couldn’t see any stars, because Chicago was just too bright.
I was staring at the strange sky when the truck bobbled a little, and something began to beep on the dashboard.
“Aw, shit,” Washington said, gripping the big steering wheel tightly. “Hang on, boys!”
The road got very rough for a minute, and Washington braked hard, steering us down a shadowed exit ramp.
