Honeymoon for Three

CHAPTER 30

In contrast to her somber mood, Penny noticed that Alfred acted as if he were feeling very lighthearted this morning. He asked her how she had slept and solicitously examined the cut in her head. It became obvious to her as they ate breakfast that in her depravity she had done exactly what he wanted last night. She should use that to her advantage. Maybe she could get him to trust her more. She forced herself to smile at him and pretend to be happy. It was difficult, but it might help buy her freedom.

They repacked the stove and dishes in the camper and were ready to leave. Penny climbed into the passenger seat. When she saw Alfred pick up the roll of duct tape, she said, “Is that really necessary?” in her sweetest voice.

He hesitated, looking at her. She could almost see the wheels spinning in his brain. She held his eyes, trying to look her most seductive and most innocent at the same time. Promising bellybutton blow jobs and strict obedience. Finally he looked away and threw the tape into the storage cabinet.

Alfred sat in the driver’s seat, inserted the key into the ignition, and gave it a twist. There was no answering response from the starter. He tried again. Same result.

“The battery’s dead.” Alfred hit the steering wheel with his hand in frustration.

Penny didn’t know whether this was good news or bad news. The reason for it came to her.

“We left the dome light on last night.”

Alfred looked blank for a moment. He peered back at the offending light. He had obviously forgotten all about it. He got up and switched it off. He returned to his seat and tried the starter again. Nothing happened. He slumped over the steering wheel, at a loss as to what to do.

Penny knew what to do. She and Gary had been on one of their pre-honeymoon trips when they hadn’t been able to start the Beetle. They had both pushed it, and when its speed hit five miles per hour, Gary jumped into the driver’s seat with the ignition on and put it in gear. When he disengaged the clutch, it started. The camper had the same kind of transmission. The only problem was that it was a lot heavier, and they were parked on an uneven surface.

She debated whether to tell Alfred what to do. Was she better off with or without the camper? It was several miles to Route 1. She could certainly walk that distance-she had proved that-but would Alfred let her do it? She couldn’t outrun him. He might decide he couldn’t risk having her on foot and kill her here.

“It’s got a manual transmission. We can push-start it.”

“We can?”

Penny explained how she and Gary had started the Beetle. Then she and Alfred got out of the camper and surveyed the area. Even if they could move the camper with a push, it would be impossible for them to get it up to five miles-per-hour on the rough terrain. Penny saw that the only possibility was to push it back to the road, a distance of some thirty feet. The road sloped downhill toward the ocean.

Once the camper reached the road, it would roll of its own accord. One of them could jump into it and put it in gear. Then it would start easily. If she were the one to do that, she could just keep going and leave Alfred behind. She would be free. She was very tempted to try to talk him into it.

On the other hand, the person who jumped into the camper had a dangerous job. What if she didn’t make it and fell under the wheels? What if she didn’t gain control of the steering wheel soon enough and it hit a tree or went into the ditch that ran along one side of the road? It could easily roll over.

No, she would rather give Alfred that job. If he got hurt, she could make her escape. It sounded cold-blooded, but it was true. She had to remember that he had tried to kill her and Gary. He was the enemy. If the camper were wrecked, they would be no worse off than they were now.

An additional idea occurred to her. She explained to Alfred what had to be done. Then she said, “Before we do it, I need to go to the bathroom again.”

“You just went a little while ago.”

“I know, but it’s urgent. I need to get something to use for toilet paper.”

Not waiting for his acquiescence, Penny went into the camper and opened the storage cabinet. She extracted a pad of ruled paper she had seen there earlier, and the duct tape. She shoved the roll of tape underneath her sweater. The sweater’s bulk hid the bulge. She needed a pencil. She went forward and opened the glove compartment, keeping an eye on Alfred through the front windows. He was contemplating the logistics of what they were going to do and not looking at her.

She found a pencil, placed it in her pocket, and jumped out of the camper through the doorway with the sliding door. She headed toward the trees, flashing the pad at Alfred. That was her toilet paper. She went behind one of the big redwood trees. She was thankful for its bulk. He was watching and would see if she tried to escape, but he couldn’t see what she was doing.

She took the pencil out of her pocket and printed the words “Penny” and “Alfred” on the top sheet of paper of the pad in block letters. She held the pad in her hand as she wrote, and the letters came out very light. They wouldn’t be legible to somebody driving behind the camper. She had to find a way to darken them.

She knelt on the ground and placed the pad on one of her thighs. Then she went over the letters many times, pressing the pencil against the pad, trying to make them as dark as possible. Before she was satisfied with the result, the lead of the pencil broke. She swore to herself. She couldn’t go back and get another pencil. This would have to do. Gary had sharp eyes. Hopefully, he would be able to read her sign if he saw it.

Penny pictured Gary driving the Beetle, coming up behind the camper, and seeing her sign. This was how it had to work. Unless Gary decided she was more trouble than she was worth and abandoned her. Or maybe he thought she had run away with Alfred. That thought nauseated her. No, he would never believe that. He had to be looking for her. He wouldn’t give up. It wasn’t like him. She felt sorry for him, alone and not knowing where she was. He must be going through emotional hell.

Alfred called her name. In a minute he would come looking for her. She had to do one more thing. She pulled the duct tape out from beneath her sweater and tried to tear off a piece. She found she could tear it easily with her fingers. Good. She threw the pencil away and hid the tape under her sweater again. Then she folded the sheet of paper in quarters and placed it in her pants pocket. She walked back to the camper.

She checked to make sure Alfred had the camper in neutral with the parking brake off. She told him to turn on the ignition and leave the left, front door open. His station was by that door. If necessary, he could steer the camper with one hand while pushing with the other hand. He positioned himself and gave a push against the frame at a point beside the door hinges, grunting as he did so. It didn’t move.

“Hurry up and push.” His voice had a growl in it.

He was irritated that she was the brains of this undertaking. Penny took a position in back of the camper and pushed when Alfred did. It still didn’t move.

“Push harder.”

She almost said something obscene. What did he want from her? He outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. He had to provide the main effort. However, at his command, she pushed as hard as she could. Slowly, the camper moved forward a few inches. Then it stopped.

Penny used up her strength and couldn’t maintain the effort. She and Alfred must have let up at the same time, because the camper rolled back to where it had been and even a little farther. Then it rolled forward to the starting point and stopped.

“We’ll rock it,” Alfred said. “When it rocks forward, push with all your might.”

They pushed the camper forward and when it stalled they let it go back. When it rocked forward toward the original position, they pushed together “with all their might.” It almost stalled again at the point of furthest progress, but an extra effort on both their parts got it into new territory.

It continued to move forward slowly, begrudging the inches it gave up. The effort was exhausting. They had to stop several times to catch their collective breath, but each time they were able to get it moving again. Eventually, they moved it close to the road. One more push and it should start to roll downhill.

Penny looked around the camper at Alfred. “Do you know what to do?”

“I think so.”

Alfred looked inside the camper, presumably rehearsing in his mind the sequence he had to go through. Penny had an urge to tell him to be careful, but she suppressed it. It was in her best interests that he not be careful, and she found herself wishing for that eventuality. She was becoming a terrible person. She reminded herself that she couldn’t get any worse than she was already.

They gave a final shove, and the camper started rolling, slowly, by itself. It would quickly pick up speed on the slope. Penny stepped over to the side of it to see if Alfred had control of the situation. He didn’t look very coordinated.

He was walking beside the camper with one hand on the steering wheel. He swung his right leg inside but in an awkward fashion, and he didn’t seem to be able to get his left leg in. The camper was picking up speed. His left leg bounced along the ground. It looked as if he were trying to run on one leg.

He gave a big yank on the steering wheel and jerked his left leg inside, but the camper veered toward the ditch at the edge of the road. Then it swerved toward the trees on the other side as he turned the wheel in that direction. Then it straightened out. Alfred should stop it now and gain full control before he tried to start the engine. He could easily get it rolling again.

Instead, he was apparently trying to start it immediately. Penny heard the sound of the engine coughing at the same time the camper bucked violently. He had put it in first gear, and it was going too fast for first gear. Penny had forgotten to tell him to use second gear. Or perhaps she hadn’t forgotten.

The camper swerved again, and this time the right front hit a tree before Alfred could control it. The tree stopped it with a jolt. Penny found her heart racing; she was glad she wasn’t inside.

She ran forward to the open front door to see if Alfred was okay. His forehead was bleeding, but somehow the engine was still running. He had instinctively depressed the clutch. She pulled on the hand brake and reached across his body to shift the camper into neutral. Now the engine would keep running even if he couldn’t hold the clutch down.

“Are you all right?”

He looked at her for a moment without comprehension. Then he said, “Yeah, I’m all right.”

He didn’t sound all right. He sounded groggy.

“Did you hit your head on the windshield?”

“Yeah.”

“Take it easy for a minute.”

Penny walked around the front of the camper to survey the damage. The spare tire, which was fastened to the front, had hit the tree. The tired looked flat, but there was little damage to the camper, itself. It was probably drivable. Penny wasn’t sure this was a good outcome, but she remembered what she wanted to do.

She went back to Alfred’s door and said, “I think it’s okay. Rest for another minute. I’ll check the back.”

She ran around to the back, making sure that Alfred stayed in his seat. She removed the paper with their names printed on it from her pocket and unfolded it. Then she took out the duct tape from underneath her sweater. She quickly tore off four pieces of tape and secured the four corners of the sheet to the back of the camper. She hoped that Gary or the police would see it and be able to read it.

She went back to Alfred’s door. “Let me look at your forehead.”

“My head’s all right.”

He sounded angry.

“Let me at least wash it off.”

“Leave it alone.”

Did he blame her for his injury? Alfred wiped his forehead, smearing the blood on his hand. He pulled his handkerchief, already dark with Penny’s clotted blood, out of his pocket and wiped his hand with it. That wasn’t sanitary.

“Let me drive. You need to rest for awhile.”

Driving would give her more control. She wasn’t sure Alfred was competent to drive right now. Especially downhill on a winding, potholed dirt road with trees, cliffs, and ditches.

“I’m driving.”

Alfred shifted the camper into reverse to back away from the tree. Penny got out of the way. He gunned the engine and released the hand brake. The wheels spun, sending a spray of loose dirt into the bottom of the camper. It inched away from the tree. The tires found traction and the camper surged backward. Penny thought it would go into the ditch on the other side of the road. Alfred jammed on the brakes and managed to stop it just in time.

He sat for a few seconds, breathing heavily. He wiped some more blood from his forehead. Then he seemed to remember Penny. He looked at her and said, “Get in.”

Penny didn’t want to get in. She didn’t want to die in a car accident any more than she wanted to die by a knife or a gun. If she ran into the woods right now, was Alfred in good enough shape to chase her? She was afraid he was. She really didn’t have any choice in the matter.

She went to the right side of the camper. She couldn’t open the passenger door because the door lock was still taped down. The damage from the tree had bent the frame slightly. It might not be possible to open it even if the tape were removed. She tried the sliding door, but that was also locked. She went back to the driver’s side and told Alfred.

“Climb over me.”

Why should she have to climb over him? “Get up and unlock the sliding door. Or get out and let me get in this door.”

He again told her to climb over him. He wasn’t about to move from his seat. Was he that badly hurt, or did he think that she would drive off, either with him or without him? She had been considering doing just that. Could he read her mind?

Exasperated, Penny climbed over him. It wasn’t easy. She considered accidentally elbowing his wound but decided that would only make him angrier. Instead, she brushed her breasts across his face to see how he would react. He didn’t react at all. With grim satisfaction she planted herself in her seat.

She hoped he wouldn’t kill them both. She said, “I suggest you use first or second gear to let the engine help hold the speed down.”

Alfred started off slowly, but soon he was going faster and had to brake almost continuously. Penny saw that he was in third gear. She told him to downshift into second. He ignored her. She held on for dear life as they bounced down the hill, on the razor’s edge of control. This was a lot scarier than the Matterhorn Bobsleds at Disneyland. She hoped the brakes wouldn’t fail.

By the time they reached a level section close to Route 1, Penny was mentally promising sacrifices to the gods in exchange for her life. Alfred stopped the camper, and she had a chance to compose herself. He shut off the engine and took the key. The battery had regenerated enough to start the camper now. His forehead was still bleeding a little, giving him the look of an injured combatant, but he seemed to be in possession of his faculties.

He got up and looked in the storage cabinet. What was he doing?

“What are you looking for?”

“Duct tape.”

The roll of duct tape was under her sweater. What did he want it for? Was he going to tape her legs? Should she play dumb? She didn’t want her legs taped. He looked at her, accusingly. If he searched her, he would want to know why she had the tape. And if he got suspicious and went outside the camper, he might find the sign.

She figured it was better to have her legs taped than to have him find the sign. When he looked in the storage cabinet again, she quickly pulled the roll of tape out from under her sweater and placed it on the floor just behind her seat.

She let Alfred search for a few more seconds. Then she got up, saying, “I’ll help you look.”

She scanned the inside of the camper with her eyes, as if she were looking for the tape. Then she picked the roll of tape up from the floor. “Here it is. It must have fallen to the floor and rolled behind the seat.”

Alfred looked dubious, but he took the tape from her.

“Get on the bed.”

“What? I’m the navigator.” She hadn’t figured on this. Hadn’t she won his trust?

“We have to cross the Golden Gate Bridge and pay a toll. I’ll release you after we go through San Francisco.”

“After all I’ve done for you? Do you remember last night…?”

“I’m sorry. I have to do it.”

He sounded contrite. She was prepared to argue, to go into detail about what they had done last night, talk until he gave in. But the first thing he taped was her mouth. He obviously didn’t want to hear about his shortcomings in bed. And this wasn’t the time to let him know that she could talk with her mouth taped.

Penny was raging. If she had known he would make her lie on the bed, she wouldn’t have produced the roll of tape. She lay on her back and kept her legs ramrod straight. She placed her hands together in front of her, hoping he would tape them in front rather than behind her. Then he couldn’t tape her hands to her legs.

It worked. He didn’t try to turn her over. He taped her hands in front. He covered her with a blanket, including her head. He did feel sorry about what he was doing to her. She had won a small victory.