If Keith had fallen asleep, he wasn't aware of it. For the past three days, he had slept so little, and at such odd hours, that his routines and rhythms were out of sync. When the phone rang, he could have sworn he was wide-awake. Dana, though, heard it first and had to nudge her husband. He finally grabbed it after the fourth or fifth ring. "Hello," he said, in a daze1, while Dana flipped2 on a lamp. It was 11:40. They had gone to bed less than an hour earlier.
"Hey, Pastor3, it's me, Travis," the voice said.
"Hello, Travis," Keith said, and Dana scrambled4 for a bathrobe. "Where are you?"
"Here, Topeka, at a diner somewhere downtown, not far from Anchor House." His voice was slow, his tongue thick. Keith's second or third thought was that Boyette had been drinking.
"Why are you not at Anchor House?"
"It doesn't matter. Look, Pastor, I'm really hungry, nothing since this morning, and I'm sitting here with just a cup of coffee because I don't have any money. I'm starving, Pastor. Any ideas?"
"Have you been drinking, Travis?"
"Couple of beers. I'm okay."
"You spent money on beer but not on food?"
"I didn't call to fight with you, Pastor. Can you help me get something to eat?"
"Sure, Travis, but you need to get back to Anchor House. They're waiting for you. I talked to Rudy, and he says they'll write you up, but nothing serious. Let's get something to eat, then I'll take you where you belong."
"I ain't going back there, Pastor, forget it. I want to go to Texas, okay? I mean, now. I really want to go. I'll tell everybody the truth, tell them where the body is, everything. We gotta save that boy."
"We?"
"Who else, Pastor? We know the truth. If you and me get down there, we can stop this execution."
"You want me to take you to Texas right now?" Keith asked, staring into the eyes of his wife. She began shaking her head.
"There's no one else, Pastor. I got a brother in Illinois, but we don't talk. I suppose I could call my parole officer, but I doubt if he'd have any interest in hauling ass5 down to Texas. I know a few of the dudes around the halfway6 house, but they don't have cars. When you spend your life in prison, Pastor, you don't have a lot of friends on the outside."
"Where are you, Travis?"
"I told you. I'm in a diner. Hungry."
"Which one?"
"Blue Moon. You know it?"
"Yes. You order something to eat. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
"Thank you, Pastor."
Keith hung up the phone and sat on the edge of the bed next to his wife. Neither spoke7 for a few minutes. Neither wanted to fight.
"Is he drunk?" she finally asked.
"I don't think so. He's had a few, but seems sober. I don't know."
"What are you doing, Keith?"
"I'm buying dinner, or breakfast, or whatever it is. I'll wait for him to change his mind again. If he's serious, then I have no choice but to drive him to Texas."
"You do have a choice, Keith. You're not being forced to take this pervert8 to Texas."
"What about that young man on death row, Dana? Think about Donte Drumm's mother right now. This will be her last day to see her son."
"Boyette's pulling your leg, Keith. He's a liar9."
"Maybe, and maybe not. But look at what's at stake here."
"At stake? Your job could be at stake. Your reputation, career, everything could be at stake. We have three little boys to think about."
"I'm not going to jeopardize10 my career, Dana, or my family. I might get a slap on the wrist, but that's all. I know what I'm doing."
"Are you sure?"
"No." He quickly shed his pajamas11 and put on a pair of jeans, sneakers, a shirt, and a red Cardinals12 baseball cap. She watched him dress without another word. He kissed her on the forehead and left the house.
Boyette was inspecting an impressive platter of food when Keith took the chair across from him. The diner was half-full, with several tables occupied by uniformed policemen, all eating pie, average weight at least 250. Keith ordered coffee and caught the irony13 of an unconvicted murderer and parole violator having a hearty14 meal thirty feet from a small squad15 of cops.
"Where have you been all day?" Keith asked.
The tic. A large bite of scrambled eggs. As he chewed, he said, "I really don't remember."
"We wasted an entire day, Travis. Our plan was to do the video, send it to the authorities and the press in Texas, and hope for a miracle. You ruined that plan by disappearing."
"The day's done, Pastor, leave it alone. You taking me to Texas or not?"
"So you're jumping parole?"
The tic, a sip16 of coffee, his hand shaking. Everything from his voice to his fingers to his eyes seemed to be engaged in a steady tremor17. "Parole is the least of my worries right now, Pastor. Dying occupies most of my time. And that boy in Texas concerns me. I've tried to forget him, but I can't. And the girl. I need to see her before I die."
"Why?"
"I need to say I'm sorry. I hurt a lot of people, Pastor, but I only killed one." He glanced at the policemen, then kept going, his voice a bit lower. "And I don't know why. She was my favorite. I wanted to keep her forever, and when I realized I couldn't, well, I--"
"Got it, Travis. Let's talk logistics here. Slone, Texas, is 400 miles away, straight shot, as the crow flies, but it's more like 550 by car, with a lot of two-lane roads. It's midnight. If we left in the next hour or so and drove like maniacs18, we might be there by noon. That's six hours before the execution. Any idea what we do when we get there?"
Boyette chewed on a piece of sausage and pondered the question, completely untouched by any sense of urgency. Keith noticed that he took very small bites, chewed them a long time, laid down his fork, and took a sip of either coffee or water. He did not seem to be overly hungry. Food was not important.
After more coffee, Boyette said, "I was thinking that we go to the local television station and I go on the air, tell my story, take responsibility, tell the idiots down there that they got the wrong guy for the murder, and they'll stop it."
"Just like that?"
"I don't know, Pastor. I've never done this before. You? What's your plan?"
"At this point, finding the body is more important than your confession19. Frankly20, Travis, given your lengthy21 record and the disgusting nature of your crimes, your credibility will be challenged. I've done some research since I met you on Monday morning, and I've run across some anecdotes22 about the nutcases who pop up around executions and make all sorts of claims."
"You calling me a nutcase?"
"No, I'm not. But I'm sure they'll call you a lot of names in Slone, Texas. They won't believe you."
"Do you believe me, Pastor?"
"I do."
"Would you like some eggs and bacon? You're paying for it."
"No, thanks."
The tic. Another glance at the cops. He pointed23 both index fingers at both temples and massaged24 them in tiny circles, grimacing25 as if he might scream. The pain finally passed. Keith looked at his watch.
Boyette began shaking his head slightly and said, "It'll take longer to find the body, Pastor. Can't be done today."
Since Keith had no experience in such matters, he simply shrugged26 and said nothing.
"Either we go to Texas, or I walk back to the halfway house and get yelled at. It's your choice, Pastor."
"I'm not sure why I'm supposed to make the decision."
"It's very simple. You have the car, the gas, the driver's license27. I have nothing but the truth."
The car was a Subaru, four-wheel drive, 185,000 miles on the odometer, and at least 12,000 miles since the last oil change. Dana used it to haul the boys all over Topeka, and it showed the wear and tear of such a life on the streets. Their other car was a Honda Accord with a sticky oil light and a bad set of rear tires.
"Sorry for the dirty car," Keith said, almost embarrassed, as they crawled in and closed the doors. Boyette said nothing at first. He placed his cane28 between his legs.
"Seat belts are mandatory29 now," Keith said as he buckled30 up. Boyette did not move. There was a moment of silence in which Keith realized that the journey had begun. The man was in his car, along for a ride that would consume hours, maybe days, and neither knew where this little journey might take them.
Slowly, Boyette strapped31 himself in as the car began to move. Their elbows were inches apart. Keith got the first whiff of stale beer and said, "So, Travis, what's your history with booze?"
Boyette was breathing deeply, as if soothed32 by the security of the car and its locked doors. Typically, he waited at least five seconds before responding. "Never thought of it as a history. I'm not a big drinker. I'm forty-four years old, Pastor, and I've spent just over twenty-three of those years locked away in various facilities, none of which had saloons, lounges, juke joints33, strip clubs, all-night drive-thrus. Can't get a drink in prison."
"You've been drinking today."
"I had a few bucks34, went to a bar in a hotel, and had some beers. They had a television in the bar. I saw a report on the Drumm execution in Texas. Had a picture of the boy. It hit me hard, Pastor, I gotta tell you. I was feeling pretty mellow35, you know, kinda sentimental36 anyway, and when I saw that boy's face, I almost got choked up. I drank some more, watched the clock get closer and closer to 6:00 p.m. I made the decision to skip parole, go to Texas, do what's right."
Keith was holding his cell phone. "I need to call my wife."
"How is she?"
"Fine. Thanks for asking."
"She's so cute."
"You need to forget about her." Keith mumbled37 a few awkward phrases into the phone and then slapped it shut. He drove quickly through the deserted38 streets of central Topeka. "So, Travis, we're planning on this long drive down to Texas, where you face the authorities and tell the truth and try to stop this execution. And I'm assuming at some point very soon, you'll be expected to lead the authorities to Nicole's body. All this, of course, will lead to your arrest and being thrown in jail in Texas. They'll charge you with all sorts of crimes and you'll never get out. Is that the plan, Travis? Are we on the same page?"
The tic. The pause. "Yes, Pastor, we're on the same page. It doesn't matter. I'll be dead before they can get me properly indicted39 by the grand jury."
"I didn't want to say that."
"You don't have to. We know it, but I prefer that nobody in Texas knows about my tumor40. It's only fitting that they get the satisfaction of prosecuting41 me. I deserve it. I'm at peace, Pastor."
"At peace with whom?"
"Myself. After I see Nicole again, and tell her I'm sorry, then I'll be ready for anything, including death."
Keith drove on in silence. He was facing a marathon trip with this guy, virtually shoulder to shoulder for the next ten, maybe twelve hours, and he hoped he wouldn't be as crazy as Boyette by the time they arrived in Slone.
He parked in the driveway, behind the Accord, and said, "Travis, I'm assuming you have no money, no clothes, nothing." This seemed painfully obvious.
Travis chuckled42, raised his hands, and said, "Here I am, Pastor, with all my worldly assets."
"That's what I thought. Wait here. I'll be back in five minutes." Keith left the engine running and hurried into his house.
Dana was in the kitchen, throwing together sandwiches and chips and fruit and anything else she could find. "Where is he?" she demanded as soon as Keith walked through the door.
"In the car. He's not coming in."
"Keith, you can't be serious about this."
"What are the choices, Dana?" He'd made his decision, as unsettling as it was. He was prepared for a nasty fight with his wife, and he was willing to take the risks that his journey might entail43. "We can't sit here and do nothing when we know the real killer44. He's out there in the car."
She wrapped a sandwich and stuffed it into a small box. Keith took a folded grocery bag from the pantry and went into their bedroom. For his new pal45 Travis, he found an old pair of khakis, a couple of T-shirts, socks, underwear, and a Packers sweatshirt that no one had ever worn. He changed shirts, put on his clerical collar and a navy sport coat, and then packed a few things of his own in a gym bag. Minutes later, he was back in the kitchen, where Dana was leaning against the sink, arms locked defiantly46 across her chest.
"This is a huge mistake," she announced.
"Maybe so. I didn't volunteer for this. Boyette chose us."
"Us?"
"Okay, he chose me. He has no other means of getting to Texas, or so he says. I believe him."
She rolled her eyes. Keith glanced at the clock on the microwave. He was anxious to take off, but he also realized that his wife was entitled to a few parting shots.
"How can you believe anything he says?" she demanded.
"We've had this conversation, Dana."
"What if you get arrested down there?"
"For what? Trying to stop an execution. I doubt that's a crime, even in Texas."
"You're helping47 a man jump parole, right?"
"Right, in Kansas. They can't arrest me for it in Texas."
"But you're not sure."
"Look, Dana, I'm not going to get arrested in Texas. I promise. I might get shot, but not arrested."
"Are you trying to be funny?"
"No. No one's laughing. Come on, Dana, look at the big picture. I think Boyette killed this girl in 1998. I think he hid her body and knows where it is. And I think there's a chance for a miracle, if we can get down there."
"I think you're crazy."
"Maybe, but I'd rather take a chance."
"Look at the risk, Keith."
He had inched closer and now put his hands on her shoulders. She was rigid48, her arms still crossed. "Look, Dana, I've never taken a chance in my life."
"I know. This is your big moment, isn't it?"
"No, this is not about me. Once we get there, I'm staying in the shadows, keeping a low profile--"
"Whatever. I'll be in the background. It's the Travis Boyette show. I'm just his driver."
"Driver? You're a minister with a family."
"And I'll be back by Saturday. I'll preach on Sunday, and we'll have a picnic that afternoon. I promise."
Her shoulders sagged50, and her arms fell to her sides. He squeezed her fiercely and then kissed her. "Please try to understand," he said.
She nodded gamely and said, "Okay."
"I love you."
"I love you. Please be careful."
Robbie's midnight wake-up call came at 12:30. He'd been in bed with DeDe for less than an hour when the phone erupted. DeDe, who'd gone to sleep without the aid of alcohol, jumped first and said, "Hello." Then she handed the phone to her mate, who was fogged in and trying to open his eyes.
"Wake up, Robbie, it's Fred. Got some interesting stuff here."
Robbie managed to rouse himself, at least to the next level. "What is it, Fred?" DeDe was already flipping52 to the other side. Robbie smiled at her fine rear end under the satin sheets.
Fred said, "Had another drink with Joey. Took him to a strip club. Second night in a row, you know. Not sure my liver can take much more of this project. I'm sure his cannot. Anyway, got the boy drunk as a pissant, and he finally admitted everything. Said he lied about seeing the green van, lied about the black person driving the damned thing, lied about everything. Admitted he was the one who called Kerber with the fake tip about Donte and the girl. It was beautiful. He was crying and carrying on, just a big blubbering fat boy knocking back beers and talking trash to the strippers. Said he and Donte were once good buddies53, back in the ninth and tenth grades when they were football stars. Said he always thought the prosecutors54 and judges would figure things out. Can't believe it's come down to this. He's always thought the execution would never happen, thought Donte would one day get out of prison. Now he's finally convinced that they're gonna kill him, so he's all tore up about it. Thinks it's his fault. I assured him that it is. The blood will be on his hands. I really beat him up. It was wonderful."
Robbie was in the kitchen looking for water. "This is great, Fred," he said.
"It is, and it's not. He refuses to sign an affidavit55."
"What!"
"Won't do it. We left the strip club and went to a coffeehouse. I begged him to sign an affidavit, but it's like talking to a tree."
"Why not?"
"His momma, Robbie, his momma and his family. He can't stomach the idea of admitting that he's a liar. He's got a lot of friends in Slone, and so on. I did everything I could possibly do, but the boy is not willing to sign on."
Robbie downed a glass of tap water and wiped his mouth with a sleeve. "Did you tape it?"
"Of course. I've listened to the tape once, about to go through it again. There's a lot of background noise--you ever been to a strip club?"
"Don't ask."
"Really loud music, a lotta rap shit and stuff like that. But his voice is there. You can understand what he's saying. We'll need to enhance it."
"There's no time for that."
"Okay. What's the plan?"
"How long is your drive?"
"Well, at this lovely time of the day, there's no traffic. I can be in Slone in five hours."
"Then get your ass on the road."
"You got it, Boss."
An hour later, Robbie was in bed, flat on his back, the dark ceiling doing strange things to his thought process. DeDe was purring like a kitten, dead to the world. He listened to her breathe heavily and wondered how she could be so untroubled by all of his troubles. He envied her. When she awoke hours later, her first priority would be an hour of hot yoga with a few of her dreadful friends. He would be at the office screaming at the telephone.
And so it had all come down to this: a drunk Joey Gamble confessing his sins and baring his soul in a strip club to a man with a concealed56 mike that produced a scratchy audio that no court in the civilized57 world would take heed58 of.
The fragile life of Donte Drumm would depend on the eleventh-hour recantation by a witness with no credibility.
收听单词发音 |
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daze
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| v.(使)茫然，(使)发昏 | |
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flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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pervert
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| n.堕落者，反常者；vt.误用，滥用；使人堕落，使入邪路 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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jeopardize
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| vt.危及，损害 | |
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pajamas
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| n.睡衣裤 | |
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cardinals
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| 红衣主教( cardinal的名词复数 )； 红衣凤头鸟（见于北美，雄鸟为鲜红色）； 基数 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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squad
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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maniacs
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| n.疯子（maniac的复数形式） | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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massaged
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| 按摩，推拿( massage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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grimacing
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的现在分词 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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mandatory
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| adj.命令的；强制的；义务的；n.受托者 | |
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buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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indicted
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| 控告，起诉( indict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tumor
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| n.（肿）瘤，肿块(英)tumour | |
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prosecuting
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| 检举、告发某人( prosecute的现在分词 )； 对某人提起公诉； 继续从事（某事物）； 担任控方律师 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entail
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| vt.使承担，使成为必要，需要 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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50
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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51
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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flipping
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| 讨厌之极的 | |
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53
buddies
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| n.密友( buddy的名词复数 )；同伴；弟兄；（用于称呼男子，常带怒气）家伙v.（如密友、战友、伙伴、弟兄般）交往( buddy的第三人称单数 )；做朋友；亲近（…）；伴护艾滋病人 | |
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prosecutors
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| 检举人( prosecutor的名词复数 )； 告发人； 起诉人； 公诉人 | |
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affidavit
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| n.宣誓书 | |
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56
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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