A large stone monument announced that she had arrived in the town. She continued driving until she reached the downtown, where she pulled into the ATM lane of the Bank of America and withdrew $500.
Then, at the Community Bank, the words “Invalid PIN” appeared on the screen.
Very carefully she entered the number again. Then she punched “enter.” And the same words appeared on the screen.
“Oh my God!” Jamie whispered as goose flesh rose on her arms. Her worst fear had been validated. Any notion she had harbored that she had misjudged the entire situation vanished. Some ominous and seemingly omnipotent power had closed her bank account, and the electronic word of that closure had reached all the way to Liberal, Kansas.
She looked around, half expecting men with carefully trimmed hair and wearing overcoats and mirrored sunglasses to appear suddenly and pull her from the car. They hadn’t arrived yet, but they would.
She rested her forehead on the steering wheel. What should she do?
She couldn’t just sit here like a sitting duck. She needed to hide. And get rid of her car. ASAP!
The driver of the car in line behind her gently tapped on his horn, reminding her it was time to move on. For an instant, Jamie couldn’t remember how to drive.
Push in the clutch, she told herself. Put the car in gear.
She followed the curving drive to the street. Left or right? She turned right and drove hesitantly for a block then pulled into a parking space.
Ralph pushed his head under her idle hand, and she absently began to stroke him. She couldn’t take a bus or a train with a dog. And she couldn’t hitchhike in frigid weather with a two-day-old baby.
What would she do with her possessions if she abandoned her car? She hated to give them up. They were all she had left of her past.
But they were only things, she told herself. They weren’t worth losing her baby. Or her life.
She toyed with the idea of renting a car. But she would have to show her driver’s license. How long would it take for the transaction to be traced, for the men in mirrored sunglasses to be looking for a specific rental car with a specific tag number?
Then a hopeful thought crossed her mind. Maybe the computer at the last bank had malfunctioned. Maybe she should try another bank.
She pulled out of the parking space and made a U-turn on the wide street.
She pulled into the ATM lane of a third bank. Her hand was shaking as she inserted her card and punched in her PIN.
Once again she was informed that she had used an invalid number.
She had to get out of Liberal, Kansas. Now.
She left the bank and headed back toward the highway. When she reached the intersection, she hesitated. Anyone pursuing her probably would expect her to continue heading north, putting as much distance and as many states as possible between herself and the Hartmann Ranch.
She turned south. Once she had crossed back over the state line, she stopped at the first service station and bought an Oklahoma map. She wanted the anonymity provided by a large city, and Oklahoma City was the largest city in the state. She would use only the least traveled roads to get there.
But first, she had to find a place to sleep for a few hours. Her vision was starting to blur. She was weak with exhaustion, probably from all the blood she was losing. She needed to change the pad again. Needed something to eat.
She went through a tiny community whose only businesses seemed to be a convenience store and a tavern. Then she spotted a sign that said COTTAGES FOR RENT.
She pulled into what was left of an old-fashioned tourist court-four cottages and a row of empty foundations. A crooked sign with the word OFFICE was nailed on the side of a frame house. Jamie climbed up the steps and knocked on the door. An elderly man in filthy overalls opened the door. “Twenty dollars’ cash in advance,” he said. Jamie returned to the car for a twenty-dollar bill, which she exchanged for a key to cottage 2.
She parked the car behind the cottage so it would be out of sight from the road and carried the baby and a few things inside. She watched from the door of the cottage while Ralph raced around the bare foundations then called him inside. She fed him and filled a bowl with water. After changing her baby, she nursed him once again, not because he was crying but because she needed him to let her sleep.
She had promised herself a nice long shower but didn’t have energy left even for that. She drank the bottle of orange juice and ate the banana-nut bread that Mae the midwife had given her, then crawled into bed with her baby and her dog, which probably wasn’t recommended in Mae’s booklets. But first she needed to survive and then she would worry about the rules for child rearing.
She kissed the baby’s forehead and his ears and hands. “I love you, baby Billy.” She felt as though her heart had grown to enormous proportions in order to accommodate all the love she felt for this tiny infant.
With her cheek against the top of his downy head, she used the few minutes she had before sleep claimed her to think about the phone call with Joe’s mother. She replayed the conversation in her head, considering its implications.
It could be weeks-or longer-before the Brammers heard from Joe.
He wasn’t married.
He had searched for her.
His mother thought he had been waiting around for her to grow up.
What did mothers know about such things, though?
Jamie knew, however, that she was going to cling to Mrs. Brammer’s words like a lifeline. Maybe she was setting herself up for disappointment, but she was going to allow herself to hope. What she had to do now was survive until Joe returned from his travels.
The baby woke in the night. Jamie changed him then wrapped them both in a blanket and leaned against the headboard to nurse him. He was getting lustier about the nursing, and her breasts suddenly were much fuller. Painfully so. She worried that she had an infection or that the milk ducts were becoming clogged. She definitely needed to read those booklets, but they would have to wait. Right now the best she could do was fly by the seat of her pants.
She slept a few more hours. When she woke it was dawn. She put on her coat and took Ralph outside for a few minutes, then fed him and set out a bowl of water. Then she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, took a deep breath, and cut her hair, leaving about four inches all over her head.
She had also planned to dye it, but the directions revealed a far more lengthy and complicated process than she had anticipated.
The water in the shower was freezing cold, but she was desperate for a shower. She hurriedly soaped herself and rinsed. When she turned off the water, she could hear Billy crying. She dried quickly and pulled on some clothes. “There, there, there,” she cooed as she picked him up.
Her breasts were as hard as rocks, but their swollen state did not seem to impede the flow. Billy was obviously getting something out of them.
When he finished nursing, she changed him and sponged the cord stump with rubbing alcohol as per Mae’s instructions.
She loaded up her possessions, baby, and dog in the car then pulled up in front of the convenience store and, keeping the car in her line of vision, bought coffee and a packaged pastry.
Billy slept for three hours, which took her as far as the town of Shattuck. She pulled into an empty church parking lot to nurse him and let Ralph out. Then she bought gas along with snacks and water bottles for the road and once again took up her meandering route eastward.
It was evening before she reached the outskirts of Oklahoma City. She pulled over to consult the city map that was printed on the back of the state map. She wanted to be close to the downtown and the inter-city bus station it would offer. Eventually she found herself in a neighborhood near a large hospital complex where formerly large gracious homes had been divided into apartments. Within walking distance were a park and a small commercial area that offered a grocery, bakery, drugstore, and service station. It was almost dark by the time she parked in front of a brick dwelling with an APARTMENT FOR RENT sign in a window.