按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
most any character defect was forgivable at nineteen。 （Eddy was twenty…two； and far more worldwise。）
〃Won't they know your car？〃 she asked。
〃I've already switched the plates。〃
She glanced at the back end of the Mustang。 Zach's license plate read FET…213； which looked awfully familiar。 〃Isn't that the same one you always had？〃
〃I didn't switch plates on the car；〃 he explained patiently。 〃I switched them in the DMV puter。 My plate is pletely wiped out of existence； and I gave myself the plate of some Cajun's 1965 Ford pickup down in Houma。〃
〃Oh。〃
〃It can't be traced to me。〃
〃Uh…huh。〃
〃Trust me； Ed！ I'm making a clean getaway。 I just need to get going。〃
They stood awkwardly in the deepening gloom staring at each other。 〃You already have a key；〃 Zach said。 〃You want the extra？〃
〃No。 You'll need it if you e back and I'm not home。〃
〃I'm not ing back； Eddy；〃 he said gently。 〃Not for a long time； anyway。 I'll kill myself before I'll let them lock me up。〃
〃I know。〃 She would not lose her posure； would not slobber and bawl； would not beg him to take her along。 If he wanted her along； he would have said so。
〃So…well…I can't call here； but I'll try to get in touch somehow。〃
〃You do that。〃 She crossed her arms over her chest； shook a few tiny braids out of her face； fixed him with a steely eye。
〃Eddy 。 。 。〃
〃Don't you fucking Eddy me！ You could have been more careful！ You didn't have to show off and take so many dumb chances…it wasn't like you needed the money。 You could have 。 。 。 stayed！〃 Now she was crying。 She bared her teeth at him； narrowed her eyes nearly to slits to hide the tears。
〃I know；〃 he said。 〃I know。〃 He took two steps forward and enfolded her in his arms again。 She laid her wet cheek against the soft cotton of his T…shirt； breathed his smoky； slightly sweaty boy…smell； held his skinny body tight against her。 This was how it should have been all along。
Too bad he hadn't agreed。
〃Be safe；〃 she told him at last。
〃I'll be careful。〃
〃Where will you go？〃
He shrugged。 〃North。〃
They stared at each other again； at a loss for words but not yet ready to say good…bye。 Then Zach leaned down and…ever so carefully； as if touching together two live wires…placed his lips against Eddy's。 She felt the electric thrill of contact； the very tip of his tongue touching hers； and an exquisite heat exploded from the center of her womb。 For an instant she thought her innards would simply melt out of her pussy and run down her thighs； so intense was the rush。 But then Zach pulled back and stepped away。
〃Gotta go。〃
Eddy nodded； did not trust herself to speak。 She watched him walk around the front of the car； slide into the driver's seat； turn the key in the ignition。 The powerful engine leapt to life； ready to carry Zachary Bosch far away from New Orleans； far away from Eddy Sung。 The horn beeped twice and then he was pulling away from the curb； red taillights pausing at the corner； then merging into the nighttime traffic of Decatur Street。
Gone。
Eddy stood for several minutes in the shifting shadows cast by the wrought…iron balconies overhead。 She glanced at the door that led up to Zach's place； touched the key ring in her pocket； then shook her head。 The Madison Street apartment was much nicer than her own roach…infested closet； and she knew the rent was paid for the rest of the year。 Zach hated thinking about mundane matters like rent； so he paid it off at the beginning of each year when he renewed his lease。 She would start moving her things in tomorrow。 But she could not go up there now； while his presence still lingered painfully strong； like a voice just beyond the range of hearing； like an atom…thin membrane between reality and memory。
She turned and walked back up Madison； turned left on Chartres； and headed for Jackson Square。 The spires of St。 Louis Cathedral loomed ahead； moon…pale and mysterious； stabbing like bony fingers into the purple night sky。 A brick mons lay between the cathedral and the square； and kids in thrift…shop black and painted leather and torn denim were already beginning to congregate there； smoking cigarettes； passing bottles of cheap wine。
Eddy stopped at the bank machine on the corner of Chartres and St。 Ann。 She still had her day's pay in her pocket； a fat wad that rubbed against her leg and made her nervous。 She would deposit it； saving out thirty dollars…enough to get good and drunk。 Then she might go and join the kids on the square； or she might find a dark little bar and drown her sorrows alone。
She filled out a deposit slip； stuffed her money in the envelope； popped her card into the slot and punched in her personal number； then the necessary information。 She heard little wheels grinding deep inside the machine。 The screen asked her if she needed travelers' checks for that summer vacation。 Finally her eighty…dollar deposit was processed and the machine spit back her card； then a printed receipt。
Eddy turned away； glanced idly at the receipt； and stopped dead in her tracks。 A couple of fratboy tourists crossing the mons nearly walked into her； swore at her； and stumbled on。 She ignored them； kept staring dumbly at the slip of paper。 She tried squinting and blinking； but the numbers stayed the same。
She'd paid her rent a couple of days earlier； and that put the balance of her checking account at a precarious 380。82。 It now stood at 10；380。82。
She'd never let Zach give her money。 It was too dangerous for him； and she liked taking care of herself。
But it appeared he had left her a farewell present。
He got on Highway 90…other than superinterstates 59 and 10； which were as dull as direct…dialing a long distance call and paying for it with your own credit card； the two…lane blacktop was pretty much the only way out of New Orleans…and left the city under cover of the night。 The Rolling Stones song of that name pumped monotonously in his head （curled up baby； curled up tight）； an unwele echo from the bruised ache and white…hot hatred of his eleventh year。 It reminded him that he had hardly any tapes in the car。 He'd left his music； books； and movies for Eddy； since he could always get more。 But he should have brought a few for the road。 He'd stop and get some later； when his thoughts quieted down enough to make listening worthwhile。
He was already sick of wearing his new hat； so he chucked it into the back and raked a hand through his hair。 It was tangled； dirty； and felt like it was standing up at fifteen different angles。 So much the better for that popular Edward Scissorhands look。
A few miles out of New Orleans； 90 wound past an enclave of Vietnamese restaurants and stores； an exotic little Asian village set down in rural Louisiana； nurtured by the bounty of the rivers； lakes； and bayous。 Though Eddy was Korean； the sight made him think of her； gave him an empty feeling somehow。 He'd eaten dinner at her parents' house in Kenner once； had been served oyster pancakes and a wonderful concoction of rice； fresh greens； seaweed； raw fish； and hot sauce heaped in a giant glass bowl and called fea…dup…bop。 Zach kept hearing it as fetus o