Stardust(146)
“Don’t go too fast,” Ben said. “We don’t want to get stopped.”
“Why are you so nervous? Nobody has any idea. Why are we supposed to be going, if anyone asks?”
“The races. Everybody goes down for the races. Fishing in Ensenada. I don’t know, why does anyone go?”
“Your brother used to say, don’t think about anything,” Kaltenbach said. “Pretend it’s the most natural thing in the world. If you worry at all, they sense it. Like dogs.”
“And did you worry?”
“I was terrified. You know what I think got us through? Alma. The way she’s in her own world. At the border she seemed surprised to see the guards, you know, anything in her way. They didn’t even question us. Of course your brother made a gift to them, but even so. They usually asked questions, to make a show. But not Alma. Sí, señora. Up goes the crossing bar. And all I could think was, don’t sweat, don’t let them smell it on you. And you know, if it had gone the other way—well, it was another time. I owe my life to him. Now you.”
“No. This isn’t the same.”
“It feels the same. All that climbing, I was afraid for my heart. Now look, a chauffeur. But the same.” He was quiet for a minute, watching the night landscape pass, dark houses and miles of streetlights stretching down to Long Beach. “I never said good-bye to Alma. I wonder if she’ll notice that I’m gone.”
“Everybody will,” Ben said. “You’ll be in the papers.”
“So. You have to leave to make an impression,” he said, playing with it.
They drove past Huntington Beach, the lights getting fewer, Liesl sneaking glances at him.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
“Nothing,” she said, a little startled, unaware that he’d seen.
“I’m all right, really.”
“It’s not that. The jacket. I bought it. I was remembering when I bought it.”
He fell asleep without realizing it, his head against the window, dreaming of the stars spilling across the sky on Mt. Wilson. Then he was at the Cherokee, watching blood spread in the alley, someone else’s blood, not his. Had Danny fought back? He woke when she stopped for gas, the station overly bright in the black landscape.
“Where are we?”
“Nowhere. Another twenty miles to La Jolla. Maybe we should stop there. It’s a long drive.”
“No,” Kaltenbach said from the back, “it’s important not to stop.” Another lesson from the Pyrenees. “Even to rest. People notice you. You see that car? It’s been behind us. Now it stops, too.”
“It’s the first station for miles,” Liesl said.
“Go to the toilet,” Ben said. “See if they follow. I’ve got your back.”
The attendant came over to start the pump.
“You encourage him,” Liesl said.
“He’s careful. Want a Coke?”
He went over to the ice cooler and pulled out a bottle and opened it, glancing at the second car as he drank. Two men on a Sunday night. Going where? Kaltenbach came out of the station, head low, his face shadowed by his hat.
“They’re still there?”
“Getting gas. I think it’s all right.”
They paid and left, Ben driving now, one eye on the rearview mirror.
“How would anybody know?” Liesl said to him, using English, Heinrich just a child in the backseat, swiveling his head from time to time. “You think they were watching his house?”
“He’s not the only one in the car. You heard Kelly. The guy was a hired hand. And I’m still here.”
She took this in, thinking for a minute. “And yet you do this. Out here. Where it’s easy for them.”
He said nothing.
“They were going to use Heinrich anyway. You didn’t make them.”
“I helped.”
“So it’s all on your shoulders. All the problems of the world.” She looked out the window, quiet. “You and Daniel.”
“What do I do? Just sit there?” He looked at her. “It’s not much, considering.”
“They’re turning off,” Kaltenbach said, looking out the back.
After La Jolla there were more lights, the hilly outskirts of San Diego. Liesl was fiddling with the radio, Kaltenbach keeping watch for cars.
“In the movies they always hear about themselves on the radio,” Liesl said. “But listen, just music. So we’re safe.” She turned the dial, picking up a Spanish-language station. “We must be close. What will they think of us? Different passports.”
“They don’t care much going out. It’s getting back in. It’ll be easier, just the two of us.”