Cries of the Children(56)

Trefill didn’t realize he was smiling with the idea that he might get to use his gun for real this time.

The 9:45 bus from Manhattan pulled into Atlantic City close to midnight. Sandy had shaken Lorraine awake, but the ordeal she’d been through made the child as limp as a rag doll. Grumbling, Donny lifted her up and carried her off the bus.

“Don’t be such a creep,” Sandy said. “That little kid saved our necks, and you know it.”

“We have to find a place to spend the night,” Donny said.

“We can sleep under the boardwalk,” Sandy said. “No one will see us there.”

They walked down New Jersey Avenue, heading toward the lights of the casinos. Climbing onto the boardwalk, they found themselves near the Showboat Casino. Sandy gazed around in awe at all the activity she was seeing. The boardwalk was sixty feet wide, stretching as far as her eyes could see, and it was full of people. Bright lights and laughter and loud noises were a sharp contrast to the virtually silent bus ride.

“Wow, it’s barely midnight,” she said. “And there’s people all over the place.”

“I heard they don’t have clocks,” Donny said. “That’s to keep the suckers gambling at all hours.”

They walked along the boardwalk, passing casinos with ritzy names like Taj Mahal and Caesar’s, until at last they had come to the end of all the activity. They found stairs leading down to the beach. Donny shifted Lorraine to his other shoulder. She moaned in protest.

“Where should we set up camp?” he asked.

“Anyplace,” Sandy said. “I’m exhausted.”

They walked for some distance. Then they ducked under the boardwalk, tucking themselves into a deep shadowed area so that no one passing by would see them. Donny took off his jacket. Sandy took off hers and laid it down just below her boyfriend’s. It made a small bed, but nothing big enough for either of them. With a sigh, Donny and Sandy exchanged glances. Then they laid Lorraine down on the makeshift bed.

Using the suitcases for pillows, the teenage couple cuddled together and fell fast asleep.





26


THE BLARE OF a truck’s horn made Steven jump, pulling him from the walking reverie he’d been in for the past half-hour. He’d stopped running as soon as he reached the nearest main road to the Freleng house. Without any guidance from Marty, but by his own instincts, he’d followed the darkened streets until he came to the main highway. It had taken him over an hour to get this far, and weariness was taking its toll. Steven had begun to daydream, thinking of Rachel and Eric’s argument. He’d lost track of both time and direction, but the rambling eighteen-wheeler had set him back on the right path.

He realized that the sky wasn’t quite as dark as it had been when he left the house. He also knew that he couldn’t stay well hidden once the sun came up. He moved into the shadows created by the trees alongside the road, and began to walk in double-time. He didn’t let himself think again how tired he was. There was no time for that.

Despite the predawn hour, there was a lot of activity on the highway. Steven knew that he had to get across it to reach the airport, and so he began to watch for a break in the traffic. When he found one, he raced as fast as his legs could carry him to the other side. Then he followed the road until he reached the entrance to the airport.

I’m here now, Marty. What do I do?

But Marty did not answer him. Steven wondered if his mysterious friend was sleeping.

Huge signs offered directions to the main terminal. Steven followed them, finally coming to the front entrance. Business people in dark suits hurried by him, briefcases firmly in hand. A few other people had also arrived for early-morning flights. Steven noticed there were no children. He followed a group of people inside, walking close to a black man so that anyone who looked at him would think he was with his father.

The airport was relatively quiet. Only the restaurant and newsstands had opened. Steven could smell something cooking. He thought of the wonderful breakfasts Helga had made over the last few days and began to feel hungry. His stomach growled. But there was an even more urgent pressure in his bladder. He looked around, finally locating a sign for the men’s room. Steven went inside, relieved himself, then freshened up by splashing water on his face.

When he came into the lobby again, he could see the sky was as bright and blue as midday. The sun seemed to have come up virtually instantaneously, although Steven knew the light had taken eight minutes to get here. The sudden appearance of morning helped push away the last vestiges of weariness he felt. It was a false energy that overcame him, but he didn’t realize this. Steven didn’t worry that he’d probably collapse from exhaustion. He could only think about how hungry he was.