them from the asphalt for a few seconds.
The walk was refreshing. After three days in the hospital, two days in jail, seven hours in the car, and six hours in the motel, Mark could barely restrain himself as they rambled through the woods. He missed his bike, and he thought how nice it would be if he and Ricky were here on this trail, racing through the trees without a worry in the world. Just kids again. He missed the
crowded streets of the trailer park with kids running everywhere and games of all sorts materializing without a moment’s notice. He missed the private little trails of his own woods around Tucker Wheel Estates and the long, solitary walks he had enjoyed all his life. And, strange as it seemed, he missed his hiding places under his own personal trees and beside creeks that belonged to him where he could sit and think, and, yes, sneak a cigarette or two. He hadn’t touched one since Monday.
“What am I doing here?” he asked, barely audible.
“It was your idea,” she said, hands stuck deep in her new jeans, also from Wal-Mart.
“It’s been my favorite question this week—’What am I doing here?’ I’ve asked it everywhere, the hospital, the jail, the courtroom. Everywhere.”
“You want to go home, Mark?”
“What’s home?”
“Memphis. I’ll take you back to your mother.”
“Yeah, but I won’t stay with her, will I? In fact, we probably wouldn’t even make it to Ricky’s room before they grabbed me, and off I’d go, back to jail, back to court, back’ to see Harry, who’d really be ticked, wouldn’t he?”
“Yeah, but I can work on Harry.”
Nobody worked on Harry, Mark had decided. He could see himself sitting in court trying to explain why he’d escaped. Harry would send him back to the detention center, where his sweetheart Doreen would be a different person. No pizza. No television. They’d probably put leg chains on him and throw him in solitary.
“I can’t go back, Reggie. Not now.”
They had discussed their various options until both were tired of the subject. Nothing had been settled. Each new idea immediately raised a dozen prob-
GtUSHAM
lems. Each course of action ran in all directions and eventually led to disaster. They had both reached, through different routes, the unmistakable conclusion that there was no simple solution. There was no reasonable thing to do. There was no plan even remotely attractive.
But neither believed they would actually dig for the body of Boyd Boyette. Something would happen along the way to spook them, and they’d run back to Memphis. This was yet to be admitted by either.
Reggie stopped at the half-mile marker. To the left was an open grassy area with a pavilion in the center for picnics. To the right, a small foot trail ventured deeper into the trees. “Let’s try this,” she said, and they left the bike route.
He followed close behind. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“No. But follow me anyway.”
The trail widened a bit, then suddenly gave out and disappeared. Empty beer bottles and chip bags littered the ground. They wove through trees and brush until they found a small clearing. The sun was suddenly bright. Reggie shielded her eyes with her hand and looked at a straight row of trees stretching before them.
“I think that’s the creek,” she said.
“What creek?”
“According to the map, Clifford’s street borders West Park, and there’s a little green line that appears to be a creek or bayou or something running behind his house.”
“It’s nothing but trees.”
She shuffled side-ways for a few feet, then stopped and pointed. “Look, there are roofs on the other side of those trees. I think it’s Clifford’s street.”
Mark stood beside her and strained on tiptoes. “I see them.”
“Follow me,” she said, and they headed for the row of trees.
It was a beautiful day. They were out for a stroll in the park. This was public property. Nothing to be afraid of.
The creek was nothing but a dry bed of sand and litter. They picked their way down through the vines and brush, and stood where the water once ran many years before. Even the mud had dried. They climbed the opposite bank, a much steeper one but with more vines and saplings to grab on to.
Reggie was breathing hard-when they stopped on the other side of the creek bed. “Are you scared?” she asked.
“No. Are you?”
“Of course, and you are too. Do you want to keep going?”
“Sure, and I’m not afraid. We’re just out for a hike, that’s all.” He was