“Find anything?”
“A few scraggly cactus plants. I tried one. Tasted like rotten vinegar.”
He stretched out beside her in the narrow margin of shadow they had left
as the sun sailed up the sky toward high noon.
Page made seven or eight trips altogether, whistling to comfort her. But
he came back from the last search staggering from the furious heat. He
looked at the yellow world prostrate under the sun, the savage sun that
plainly meant to murder them. And he hated it illogically as though it
had a human conscience.
Sunny was sitting up, huddled against the last few planes of shady rock.
Already sunlight was slanting down the steep western slope and on the
east there was no shadow at all.
Noon. The sun’s hour of hours.
Page dropped to his knees, panting. One swallow of water and he thought
he could move mountains. He couldn’t leave Sunny here in the blaze of
the hammering heat. Her eyes were clenched shut and her face was taut.
“Darling,” he said from a sandy throat.
“No water?” she whispered.
He shook his head, taking her in his arms. She half-collapsed against
him. “I’m so thirsty,” she admitted out of her weakness.
“Where’s that gum?” He fumbled in the purse and pulled out a stick.
“Here, honey. It’s not wet but there’s a little sugar in it.”
“I’m so dry,” she murmured.
“Try. Come on.” She worked on it for some minutes and finally it began
to yield. It tasted pathetically good. She chewed all the sweetness out
of it and then swallowed the whole lump. Perhaps the hunger pangs could
be fooled for a minute.
“I’m going to take you back to the car and we’ll lie underneath it, till
we’ve got more shade here,” he said.
She let him pull her unsteadily to her feet. He started out, guiding her
slowly and carefully. But about halfway to the car she suddenly folded
in the middle. He caught her and carried her the rest of the way, laying
her on the sand when he got there and pushing her under the car. Then he
slid in beside her.
Page put a hand on Sunny’s leg, close beside his, but their mutual heat
was unbearable and he had to remove it. The pulsing air swirled and
waved up from the desert floor, liquid orange with heat. It crushed
their chests and stuffed their burning noses and drained the vital
fluids from their flesh.
Another plane went over. Page scrambled out to look.
“It’s pretty low,” he called, and ran over to the bonfire site, lighting
the inflammable clothes first. They caught at once and Page stepped
back. It seemed insane to add even this small heat to the radiant
desert, but it couldn’t be helped.
The plane was small, probably private, and not impossibly high. An alert
pair of eyes, studying the desert floor, might catch that fluttering
light.
But it was only a matter of minutes before Page realized they hadn’t
seen. They were going on.
He watched them go, fighting off despair. The fire had reached its peak.
There was no way to save it now for another try. He stood with his head
in his hands—the Pringle gesture Sunny knew so well—and tried to compose
himself for her sake. He had been in tight places before, but always by
himself, and always with a way out.
He crawled under the car again. “It’s two-thirty,” he told her at last.
“When the sun gets a little lower I’ll take you back to the rock. Could
you chew another piece of gum?”
“No,” she whispered.
He didn’t press her, but he was afraid her mouth would be so dry that
even the tiny jot of sugar in the gum would be inaccessible to her
before long: so much powder on her tongue.
“We might as well go now,” he said.
Carefully, he dragged Sunny after him, out from under the car, and saw
at once that she was dangerously weak. There was no possibility of her
walking back to the shade of the rock. The safest way to move her was to
pull her, and Page fashioned a cloth sled out of the blanket strips in
his S O S. He laid her on it tenderly and towed her as fast as he could
force himself to move over the sand to the rock.
He fell down beside her in exhaustion and slept for a while. When he
awoke it seemed as if centuries had passed. He lifted his head, only to
feel an alarming dizziness come over him. He lowered it at once and a
few minutes later tried again. It was better this time. It was still
daylight, still stupefyingly hot. Five minutes after three. The terrible
sun stuck jealously in the sky.
The rock Page leaned against rose twelve or thirteen feet from the
ground. It was a bad shape for climbing, but new hope made him get up
and try.
The thing had a number of sheer walls and a couple of rough ones, with
few spots for secure footing or handholds. Page chose the best side and
started doggedly up.
It seemed to the eyes like a short way to the top, but to his limbs and
lungs it was a taxing struggle all the way. Page fell back twice before
he collapsed on the sharp summit. The burning stone cut his midriff.
Quickly he lifted himself up for a look, dizzy again with the climb and
the endless blasting heat. He straddled the thin ridge and looked
around.
Rocks and sand ... rocks and sand ... black rocks and yellow sand....
The car, the broken S O S, the pile of useless ashes where the fire had
been. It didn’t look promising.
He climbed down, letting himself fall most of the way into the soft
sand. Sunny was a strange flushed color, breathing noisily, lying quite
still. He thought of Richie Settick. Perhaps Sunny was weaker than Page
wanted to believe. He needed to hear her voice.
“It’s after four now,” he said. “Sun’ll go down soon.”
Her lips began to work and he leaned very close to hear her. “This is
hell,” she said with the merest flutter of breath behind her words. “The
sun never sets in hell. You have to look at your mistakes in broad
daylight for the rest of eternity. You have to burn straight through
until you’re pure.”
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said. “Sunny, do you hear me?”
“It’s too late,” she moaned.
“My God, darling, what do you mean? We’re alive, aren’t we?”
“It doesn’t matter, Page,” she said. He had to read her lips to grasp
her meaning. She made almost no sound. “The baby....” She put a hand
across her stomach. “I think it’s ... dead.”
He was stricken silent. After a tortured pause he said, “How do you
know?”
“Doesn’t move.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s dead. Sunny, I won’t let you give up. Sunny,
Sunny, I love you so,” he said. “Darling, this isn’t any supernatural
punishment we’re going through. If I weren’t such a stupid jerk we
wouldn’t be here, and I’m going to do something about it.” She smiled
wanly and tried to quiet him but he said, “No, I have to tell you now,”
and she knew he meant there might not be another chance. So she listened
in silence.
“Sunny, there isn’t any right or wrong any more,” he said. “There’s only
life. And love. To live is right, to die is wrong. Nothing else makes
sense. There is no logic but love. No morality but survival.”
He kissed her captive hand and spoke again with his mouth moving against
her skin. “Darling, all I understood these past few months was that you
were my _sister_. When I knew that, it was as if you stopped existing as
a wife. You were my own flesh and blood and everything else came second:
love, happiness, the baby—everything. But I was wrong, Sunny. And I
damned near ruined both our lives.”
She was so moved and heartened to hear him talk this way that she found
herself almost willing to hope again for a miracle. Her eyes, green
drops in her tired face, remained fastened on him.
“Now that I know where I was wrong, the rest falls into place,” he said,
putting his head down in the sand next to hers. “... I climbed the rock
here,” he told her. “But everything looks the same. Just a few more
rocks to the north. That’s the only—” He stopped talking, feeling a jerk
of pressure in her hand. “What, honey?”
“66—is north,” she whispered.
“Yeah, but how far? A day’s walk? Two days? I can’t leave you that
long,” he said.
“You must have seen the lava bed ... the black rocks....”
“No, the bed looks like a big strip of dusty tar. This was just more
stones.”
“But the stones—get thicker—near the bed. The crater—”
“Sunny, we’ve left that lava bed maybe thirty or forty miles behind us.”
“Check the map. There’s another bed,” she panted.
“Another one?” He came to life, lurched to his feet, and weaved back to
the car. The map was still on the front seat. Page opened it, moving and
seeing somewhat like a drunk. His eyes were unfocussed for a moment, but
he finally found Amboy Crater where they had turned off the big highway.
He ran a finger slowly in a westerly direction, the way they must have
taken. The terrain was represented as rugged and rocky. And sure enough,
maybe thirty-five miles from Amboy, lay another lava bed: a long thin
one with its own crater, which intersected Route 66.
“My God, we must have crossed right over it. I never even saw it,” he
said to himself. If that mass of black rocks to the north was really it,
they might be as close as three or four miles to 66. Or as far as ten
miles. Either way, it seemed suddenly possible to reach it.
Page looked up at the sky. The sun was sliding down the western side
toward the blue peaks. He judged the temperature to be still well over a
hundred degrees. In another two hours, without the pitiless sun up
there, he might be able to start walking—if that was in fact the lava
bed ahead. But in the fast-falling desert dark he might also lose his
way, and lose Sunny too.
He stared northward, balancing his chances. We can’t live through
another day, he thought. I have to do it now, while I can still see.
“I’m going up to the highway,” he said in her ear. “You were right, that
bed can’t be far. I’m starting now, so we can get you out of here this
evening. You can’t take any more sun tomorrow. Do you understand?
Sweetheart, don’t be afraid. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Go,” she murmured, unprotesting. “I’m in labor.”
Page couldn’t disguise the shock and alarm on his face. “Dear God! I
can’t leave you now. You can’t have that baby alone, Sunny.”
“Pains ... still far apart,” she said laboriously. “Won’t be for a while
... hours, maybe. Phone Settick.” It hurt to talk; she was afraid of
triggering another cramp.
“I’ll get an ambulance and call the doctor,” he said, recovering himself
a little. “There must be a good hospital in Barstow. You’re going to be
all right, darling.” He kissed her mouth. “When we get out of here—I’ll
never leave you again,” he whispered.
She watched him rise, tying her white handkerchief around his neck. He
set out after one last look at her, wrapping a towel around his head
like a turban.
Page walked, as nearly as he could judge, straight north. He thought of
nothing but Sunny ... Sunny, his wife ... alone and sick and terrified
in the small shade of a rock. He thought of the pains she was
experiencing, and the baby.
Every fifty yards or so he turned back to look at her big brown rock.
The car soon disappeared from view, and little by little the rock sank
with it. Ahead he searched for the low black shelf that would mark the
border of the lava bed.
He stumbled forwards in this manner, half afraid his heart would
collapse like punctured plastic beneath his ribs. It was about seven
o’clock, with the sun nearly hidden at last behind the hills, when he
saw the headlights of a car.
Page stood blinking at them in a near-stupor. At first he thought he was
gazing at a mirage. They seemed to be coming right toward him, though
they were still far away. But abruptly they swerved and headed east.
“No! No!” he croaked. “Over here!” For a sickening instant he thought
his first and last real hope had evaporated. But another pair of
headlights materialized about where the first had, followed by several
more in quick succession. And then some coming from the east and
traveling west.
“The road!” He fell on his knees and wept. And suddenly lifted a
bewildered head. Where was the lava bed? He rose shakily to his feet and
turned around twice before he saw the black table to the east.
It must be the second bed, all right. We came back so far we overshot
it, he thought.
He ran forward to the highway, dropping the towel as he went. It had
only taken him, weak and lost as he was, three hours to reach the road.
Sunny couldn’t be far behind him at that rate.
18
“The car that finally stopped was a beat-up ’34 Chevy,” Page told Jack
in the cool softly-lighted bar. “Had an old desert rat in it named
Norcross. He took charge. Fed me sandwiches and tea from his food box.
Stopped some guy in a station wagon and sent him back to Barstow for an
ambulance.
“He knew that desert like his own hand. Drove in on a dirt road just
east of the lava bed—the one I was looking for and missed—and found
Sunny in forty minutes. She drank a quart of that tea. He made her take
it in small doses. I swear I wonder what would have happened if we
hadn’t gotten to her so fast.” His face was drawn as he thought of it.
“It was a miracle, and that’s the word for it. Norcross drove us back to
66 and the ambulance picked us up there a few minutes later.”
“How did you get Settick so fast?” Jack asked.
“We got Brian first. The guy who got the ambulance for us called him in
L. A. He got out to Barstow in a private plane. But by the time he
arrived Sunny’s pains had remitted. She wanted to come back to Chicago
and have the baby, and you couldn’t talk to her about it. I never saw a
girl so set on anything in my life. There weren’t any other symptoms yet
and she swore she’d make it back. Brian was against it at first but she
told him she wanted her mother. And she wanted Richie to deliver the
baby. She promised him, or something, and she was convinced if he didn’t
she’d lose the baby. He could never have made it all the way to Barstow
but Brian called him in New York and they arranged to have him leave
that night for Chicago.
“I think the worst fear Sunny had was that the baby would die. That was
why she wanted June, and no other doctor but Richie. Brian said it might
make the difference as to how well she pulled through it herself, so we
hired a hospital plane and flew back here last night. Richie was waiting
for us.”
“Turned out to be an expensive honeymoon, didn’t it?” Jack said.
“You said it,” Page agreed. “But if she makes it, it’ll be worth every
damn penny. Come on, boy, it’s been over thirty minutes. I want to get
back.”
Jack slid off the bar stool and they walked out into the early evening
together. “So you brought her straight to the hospital then?” he asked.
“Yes, and called the Rothelis. They came in about five this morning.”
“You still think you’re going to tell them who you are?”
“Let’s not get started on that again, Jackson. You’re too good a friend.
I don’t want to lose you twice.” He walked in silence for half a block
and then he added, “It’s not as selfish as you think. I mean, they’ve
been looking for me all these years, too, just the way I’ve been looking
for them.”
“And here you are, a member of the family twice over. What a handy
arrangement.”
“Spare me the humor,” Page said.
“Sorry.”
“It’s my decision, that’s all. Not yours.”
“Yours and Sunny’s,” Jack said. “Is Brian Settick still here?” he asked
while they waited for the elevator.
“No. He delivered us safely to Richie and flew back. It was damn nice of
him to come all that way with us.”
“What about Richie?” Jack said as they entered the elevator.
“This is his vacation. A little earlier than he planned, but....” They
looked at each other. “I know,” Page said quietly. “He’s in love with
her. But he’s in there saving her life and maybe my child’s. I can’t
feel too bad about the guy.”
Jack smiled at him with a new respect.
They went directly to the maternity waiting room where Ben and June and
Laura greeted them.
“Still no news?” Page said, disappointed.
“Not yet,” June said. “One young man came in ten minutes ago to say it
wouldn’t be long, and everything’s still all right.”
Page sat down wearily next to Laura. Jack stood by the door for a minute
and finally said, “I can’t stand the suspense. I’m going to mosey around
a while.”
They hardly paid him any attention.
Jack went out with an idea of getting the truth on Sunny’s condition. It
was possible that the nurses and others were trying to soften things for
her relatives. He looked around the halls, joshed with the nurses at the
central desk, and tried to pump them for information. But they were
evasive.
* * * * *
After fifteen minutes he decided it was no use and started back toward
the waiting room. He was nearing the door when he saw a young man, blond
and stocky, pulling a white surgical cap from his head as he hurried
toward the room from the opposite direction. Jack stopped him at the
door.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Dr. Settick?”
“Yes,” Settick said impatiently, reaching for the door. Jack caught his
arm.
“I’m Jack Mann. Laura’s husband. You delivered our daughter, Betsy.
Remember?”
Settick looked up at him then. “For God’s sake,” he said with a tired
smile, and gripped Jack’s hand. “I sure do remember. What are you doing
here?”
“Came to hold a friend’s hand,” Jack said with a smile.
“Well, how are you? How’s Betsy? She must be quite a young lady by now.”
“Sure is—and we’re all fine.”
“Jack can you hold on a minute?” Settick said. “I have a difficult case
here and I want to tell her family—”
“Sunny Pringle?” Jack interrupted.
Richie, about to enter the waiting room, turned again to gaze at Jack.
“You know her?” he said, surprised.
“That’s why I’m here. Page is an old buddy of mine.”
The doctor rubbed his forehead, frowning, and his expression alarmed
Jack. “No kidding,” Richie said. “Maybe you’d like to give them the
news, then. I’m pretty beat.”
“Sure,” Jack said. “How’s Sunny?”
He watched Settick’s face and experienced abrupt relief when he smiled
again.
“She’s exhausted, but she’s okay,” Richie said.
Jack hesitated. “A million thanks, doc,” he said at last. “I speak for
her family, too, especially Page.... Then I guess the baby came?”
“Yes, it came.” He spoke quietly, obviously holding himself in.
“No go?” Jack asked, almost afraid to know.
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Richie said. “There’s some hope. Quite a bit,
in fact. It’s pretty small, only three and a half pounds, and
dehydrated, but we’re going to keep a twenty-four hour watch. You know,
Sunny’s had problems all through this pregnancy....” He hesitated, not
sure how much Jack knew.
But Jack nodded. “I know all about it,” he said.
Richie gave him a fleeting glance of surprise. “Well, _that_, and its
coming so early.... I wouldn’t want to say anything for sure.”
“Boy or girl?”
“A boy. I think she wanted a boy. She never said so, but when I told her
I wish you could have seen the look on her face. She looked the way she
did the day I told her she was expecting.” He smiled to himself, and
Jack understood. That was one fine intimate moment Settick had shared
with Sunny; probably the last. And it had happened while he was
delivering another man’s child to her.
Jack felt a strong sympathy for him. Settick had no way of knowing that
Jack knew his feelings for his favorite patient. And Jack had no
intention of humiliating him with the knowledge. But the sympathy
communicated itself to Settick and he opened up a little.
“He isn’t deformed?” Jack asked.
“No, he’s perfect. Just so damn tiny, and I don’t know how strong he is.
Any little kid who can live through that desert and a premature birth
must be pretty tough, though. We can’t feed him for a little while yet—I
don’t think he could take it. But I want to get him started on water as
soon as I can. He needs the fluids badly.”
A little silence fell and Jack took advantage of it to press a question
that had made him apprehensive for many months. “Doc,” he said, speaking
cautiously. Richie, lost in himself, looked up. “What do you think—about
talking to Page and Sunny?” Jack said. “It’s a hard thing to ask you,
but somebody’s got to and they’ve had an earful from me.”
“Talking to them? What about?” Richie said.
“You know what about,” Jack said simply. “I wouldn’t ask you otherwise.”
He saw from Richie’s face that he understood and was on his guard. All
the doctor had to go on was Jack’s word that he was Page’s friend.
Jack pulled him to the wall out of the stream of corridor traffic, and
spoke with hasty urgency.
“The incest, Doc,” he said. “Let’s not beat around the bush. Page was
the one who fought it, the one who feared an abnormal child and all the
rest. If you’d give them just five minutes—”
“They’d resent it,” Settick objected. “I’ve stuck my nose too far into
their business as it is.”
“One more inch,” Jack said.
“He wouldn’t leave her now, would he?” Richie said. “With the baby and
all?”
“What if they lose the baby? Somebody’s got to get to him before that,
if it happens.”
“But he’s jealous of me. I mean—” He stopped himself, but Jack shook his
head.
“You’d be surprised what a big boy he’s getting to be,” he said with a
grin. “He can take it. Do this for them, Doc. Sunny would always
remember it.”
Richie turned away for a minute of self-argument. “Would it save the
marriage?” he said. “Because that’s the only justification for it. Sunny
doesn’t know I know about her and Page. And I tried to tell Page once,
but he didn’t catch on.”
“It might be the only thing that could put Page on the right track
permanently,” Jack said.
Another pause, this one briefer, and Settick said, “Okay. I’ll do it for
Sunny.”
Jack clapped him on the back.
“You don’t mind telling her family about the baby?” Settick said.
“Not a bit.”
“Thanks. Tell them they can see her for a minute when she gets to her
room. I wouldn’t let them ordinarily till she’s rested, but she needs
her mother. And Page. The baby’s in the nursery if you’d like a look.”
He started to walk away, but Jack called him.
“Richie,” he said. “I’m glad you got here in time. Page said Sunny was
determined to get back here for you.”
“I’m pretty glad myself,” Settick said. And then he turned and walked
off down the hall.
* * * * *
Jack entered the waiting room, walked over and sat down, and looked at
everyone. Page was brooding in silence, the others conversing quietly.
“It’s a boy,” Jack said. They all looked up slowly and suddenly June
gave a gasp and clutched Jack’s arm.
“What?” Page cried as the words registered in his head. Jack smiled.
“It’s a boy. Sunny’s fine.”
“And the baby?” they all asked together.
“He’s very small,” Jack said. “Three and half pounds and Settick says
he’s had a hard time of it. But he’s perfectly formed and he has a
chance. He’s in the nursery now.”
“Oh, my God,” Page said. A heavy pulse was visible in his throat. June
cried freely and so did Laura. Rotheli was speechless with joy and
relief.
“I ran into the doctor in the hall,” Jack explained. “He was beat to the
bricks. Told me to tell you the good news.”
“Can I see Sunny now?” Page said, springing up and heading for the door.
“Calm down, old buddy,” Jack said, chuckling. “What would she do with a
nervous nitwit like you in her room? The nurse’ll come get you when it’s
time. Relax boy, she’s okay.”
They filed up to look through the nursery windows.
“Look at all the babies,” Jack said. “Makes you realize what they mean
by ‘population explosion.’”
Laura shushed him and they walked along looking for name-tags on the
plastic bassinets.
“Here he is!” Rotheli exclaimed. He had gone off to investigate on his
own, and called them from the end of a corridor where he was looking
through the glass into a special room for the premature babies. Page
rushed up, followed by the others.
“Lord,” he said, astonished by the impossibly small baby in the
incubator. “Is that all?”
“Is that _all_?” June cried, amused and dismayed both, as Laura and Jack
joined them.
“He’s so wrinkled. He looks like the map of Asia,” Page said.
“He’s absolutely beautiful,” June whispered.
“He’s absolutely bare, too,” Page said. “What’s the matter with these
damn nurses? The poor kid will freeze to death.”
“He’s in an incubator,” Laura said with a smile. “It’s body temperature
in there.”
“Well, doesn’t he need diapers like the rest of them?” Page asked.
“After two days on the desert?” Jack grinned.
“He’s too little to stand dressing yet,” Laura said gently. “He’s okay,
new papa. They know better in there what to do with him than you do.”
A young nurse came in and hung a card reading: “Baby Boy Pringle” on the
end of the incubator, and then, seeing the crowd outside the window, she
smiled at them. Jack pointed at Page, who went red with the first flush
of fatherly pride.
“Hey,” he said, turning curiously to Rotheli. “She just put that sign
up. How did you know it was our baby?”