Ariel's Crossing - Bradford Morrow [105]
Ariel witnessed these lights, caused by nature and man, which prompted the memory of dawn brightly burning in that pool of water on the kitchen floor of the upstate farmhouse, on that relatively recent morning when she’d decided to come looking for Kip. Seemed naive now. But how could she have imagined she’d end up here? Delfino had already told her she didn’t belong in the desert. Told her and Marcos in no uncertain terms that this was not how it was supposed to happen.
Nothing had gone right. Sometime after Delfino hit the sack last night but before he awakened this morning, Kip had evolved a different plan, a variant itinerary for them both. Delfino discovered that his brand-new friend had defected, after quietly messing up their gear. The keys to his pickup had been nicked, like the pickup itself, which Kip had furtively loaded with backpack, canteen, gun, map. Weak from insomnia and gutsickness, Kip nonetheless managed to roll the truck down the street in neutral, starting the engine only when he was out of earshot. On the drive north, then east to the spot that afforded best access on foot to Dripping Spring, his thoughts had been a whirlwind of hope. He hoped his expertise in reading topographicals was still sharp. Hoped his diminished stamina would suffice to get him there, and that his bygone genius for moving behind enemy lines wasn’t utterly defunct. He hoped, above all, Delfino wouldn’t misunderstand his actions, that he would at least mull over the note he left behind. The logic was simple. Kip would set up a siege at Dripping Spring while referring the military police to Delfino, who could capitalize on this act by bringing press attention to his half-century-old cause.
I’ve lived off your family’s kindness for years now, Kip’s note began, then continued,
Your brother and Sarah, Marcos, they all love you and even need you. Nobody needs me, as such. We’re both war vets of different strifes who wound up on the same side. Give me the chance to help you. Soon as I get there, I’ll make sure they find me. I’ll throw them back to you, and the show will be yours. Sorry about messing with your stuff. The idea is to slow you down long enough so you have time to think through my proposition. Same way you couldn’t talk about your plan with Carl, I didn’t feel I could discuss mine with you. You’d have tried to talk me out of it and might have succeeded. Stay there and let me do this for you.
Your friend, whether you believe it or not, Kip.
“Bullshit, crap, and fuckall,” Delfino Montoya had exclaimed as he read this, then looked around at the strewn equipment that had been so painstakingly arranged. His natural impulse was to call the police. But, hands lapsing at his sides, he realized he couldn’t. Not if he wanted to proceed with his own plan. He began to laugh. Well, nobody could accuse Kip Calder of lacking pluck.
Delfino had just begun to gather up his provisions, intending fully to ignore Calder’s devisings, when Ariel and Marcos appeared at his door. For crissakes. Wasted and wired from driving all night down-state and over to Carrizozo through the Valley of Fires, the two explained themselves. Marcos assured his uncle that his scheme hadn’t been divulged, he needn’t worry—Franny had been sworn to take care of everything and Marcos was more than confident she was up to the subterfuge. As for Ariel, Delfino wondered how Calder could claim, Nobody needs me, as such, when his distraught daughter