In the Back Seat
Tess had a sudden vision of that party—Vivian, Marie, and Harry standing around the table at the island, wrapping paper scattered everywhere and ten candles burning brightly on the cake Marie had baked that afternoon.
Chocolate pound cake with an orange glaze.
Tess’s favorite. And with that one image, like a snapshot in a forgotten family album, Tess felt a sliver of light penetrate the darkness that gripped her.
She’d looked around the room and seen the presents—a new telescope from Harry, an art set from Marie, and the Jules Verne book from Vivian.
She’d tasted the cake, still warm from the oven—the sweet chocolate and the bitter orange.
Harry had laughed when Tess got so much sticky glaze on her fingers that the paper napkin adhered to her hand, and Marie had brought her a dish towel soaked in warm water to wipe up with, and Vivian had read aloud the first chapter of that book about going to the moon.
And then…was that when she had told a story about working for NASA?
Tess couldn’t remember the details. What she did remember is how Vivian’s voice made her feel peaceful, something her storytelling had done ever since.
“Tell me one of your stories, Aunt Vivian,” said Tess.
“Where are we going?” asked Vivian.
“Can’t you please stop talking about things I don’t understand and tell me a story?” said Tess.
“You know they don’t work like that,” said Vivian.
“Then tell me an old one. Tell me the one about working for NASA.”
“I never worked for NASA.”
“But you told a story about it.”
“Once I tell a story, it’s gone,” said Vivian. “Telling the story is my way of releasing it.”
Tess knew this. Vivian had told her a hundred times. But in her desperation, she persisted. “At my tenth birthday,” said Tess. “Don’t you remember? You told that story at my tenth birthday.”
“I may have told you a story about NASA sometime, Tess. But it couldn’t have been at your tenth birthday. Your memory is playing tricks on you.”
“Are you sure?”
“My stories didn’t start until you were older,” said Vivian.
“You gave me a Jules Verne book.”
“From the Earth to the Moon. That’s why you’re mixed up. Going to the moon made you think of the NASA story.”
“Are we getting a story or not?” said Montag 5.
“Not,” said Vivian.
“Then everybody shut the hell up,” said Montag 5.
“I’m going to get some sleep,” said Nemo 7. “Wake me up when you want me to drive.”
Tess watched as Nemo 7 slumped down, his right hand splayed out on the seat.
A story from Vivian would have eased her anxiety, she thought.
She could imagine a therapist saying, It’s perfectly all right to be anxious when you’ve been kidnapped for no apparent reason and are facing possible death.
But the fact that her anxiety and depression were justifiable didn’t make them any more pleasant.
If she could fall asleep herself, she thought, at least she might be unaware of the darkness for an hour or two.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sounds of the car—the whine of the tires on the interstate, the almost inaudible hiss of the air coming out of the heating vents.
In her legs she felt the bump of the seams on the highway.
Or possibly not. These bumps made almost no sound.
And she felt them only in her left leg, not throughout her body.
The car wasn’t bumping; it was something else.
Tess opened her eyes and looked across at Nemo 7.
His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and regular.
But on the bench seat, the middle finger of his right hand tapped rhythmically up and down.
Or not rhythmically. Yes, there was a pattern to his taps, but not a rhythmic pattern.
She stared at the finger as two minutes went by, then five, then ten.
The pattern repeated itself every two or three minutes.
Where had she seen that type of tapping before?
And then she returned to the island, returned to Harry on a rainy afternoon when she had finished reading a book and tired of Monopoly and jigsaw puzzles and Harry told her to come and sit by the fire and he would teach her Morse code.
It took her three more repetitions of the pattern to be sure she understood Nemo 7’s message. I am a friend. I will protect you and Vivian. When I can find a way, I will help you. Montag 5 believes I am on his side. I am on yours.
Tess reached out her hand just far enough that her pinkie touched Nemo 7’s. She tapped her simple message three times. Okay.
Then Tess Maxwell fell asleep.