Chapter 2

The next day I drove the short distance to Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. That’s my primary destination for the first leg of my trip. I’ve always wanted to visit there. It’s in that scenic, historic little town that my life would take a strange turn.

I checked into an RV park just outside of town and got the RV set up on a pleasant site with no problems. I spent the next two days exploring the town and taking pictures. Before leaving town on the morning of the third day I got up very early, unhooked the RV from all the park’s facilities and drove into town. Before I left the area I wanted to get some good pictures without tourists in them and I was hoping for a little light fog near the rivers to add a little atmosphere.

I parked near the junction of the rivers and walked around the quiet town taking lots of pictures. When the town started to wake up I figured it was time to leave. I headed back to the welcome center where I left the RV parked. As I passed a small general store I remembered that I need to pick up a few things and turned back to go inside.

I wasn’t quite to the door when it was jerked open from inside and a woman flew down the steps and right into my arms. In the fleeting glance I got of her I saw a look of absolute panic and total desperation on her face.

A very large man with a dark red face came running out after her and reached out to grab her. I didn’t know what was going on and jerked her out of his reach without even having to think about it.

He’s obviously furious. His face is almost purple with rage. I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack right then and there. He screamed, “SHE’S A THIEF! LOOK! THERE IN HER ARMS!”

She’s carrying a loaf of bread but it didn’t fare well when she ran into me. It’s bird food now. I looked down at the poor woman. It’s obvious at a glance that she’s starving, desperate for something to eat.

I turned to the storekeeper and sounding as reasonable as possible in the hope of calming him down I said, “I’ll pay you for the bread.”

He stood there fuming, not sure he could settle for that. I reached into my pocket and peeled off a twenty. I handed it to him and said, “Here, this should cover it.”

He glared at her and then at me as if I might somehow be involved in this criminal enterprise but he couldn’t complain about the profit on that squashed loaf of bread. He sullenly snatched the bill from my hand without a word, turned and stomped back inside, all the while mumbling obscenities under his breath.

The young woman didn’t start to relax and uncoil until he slammed the door behind him.

For the life of me I can’t say why I said what I did then. I can’t remember thinking it over and coming to a decision. It just happened. I smiled and said, “Hi. My name is Sean. You look like you could use a decent meal. I make a killer omelet. Would you care to join me for breakfast?”

She shivered and, obviously convinced that the situation hasn’t really been resolved, she replied, “Thank you. I really appreciate what you did. But that old bastard is going to call the sheriff. He won’t let it end here. And the sheriff in this town is the prototype for every redneck sheriff you’ve ever seen on television and in movies. I have to get out of this town. I suggest you do the same.”

I had that in mind anyway. I nodded and said, “I have a vehicle parked a couple of blocks from here. I’d still like to take you to breakfast. I’m on my way up to New England to do a little sightseeing. I could use a little company.

“I’m traveling in a motorhome. You won’t have your own room. You’ll have to sleep on a sleeper sofa. But I promise not to molest you.”

She looked into my eyes for a long moment. Then she said, “You don’t look like a serial killer.”

I grinned and responded, “I gather most of them don’t. But I’m not. Have I ever lied to you?”

She smiled wryly and shrugged. She said, “I haven’t caught you yet. I guess I won’t know until you slit my throat.”

I shuddered and said, “Please, I can’t even kill small animals for pleasure.”

She laughed, took my arm and started urging me away from there. She said, “I wasn’t kidding about the sheriff. We need to get out of here. That son of a bitch will arrest me even after you paid twenty times what a loaf of bread costs and probably charge you as an accessory.

“I should probably tell you that I’ve been arrested by him before. I always thought I was an honest person. But he has hounded me since I was a kid. He has seen to it that I lose every job I’ve ever had. Destroying my life has been his hobby for years.”

We were only about fifty feet from my RV when she realized it’s our destination. It’s the only vehicle in the parking lot. She came to a sudden stop and asked, “You’re kidding, right! Is that yours?! Shit! Are you rich?”

Before I could respond she added contritely, “That was rude. I’m sorry. I’m not known for my tact.”

I shrugged and said, “Me either. And yeah, I guess. I just settled a large claim I didn’t have for a lot of money, sold everything I owned and hit the road.”

I unlocked the RV and stepped back to let her in. She stepped inside and exclaimed, “Damn! This is beautiful. I’ve never been in a house this nice!”

I put my camera away in the back bedroom and I was half way to the front to get us the hell out of there when I saw a cop car coming down the road at a hell of a lot more than twice the speed limit.

I told my guest, it just occurred to me I don’t even know her name, to get down on her hands and knees, crawl into the bathroom and stay there.

She dropped to her knees instantly despite how strange my instructions were. I watched her cute little ass as she crawled away. Then I went about getting ready to leave as though I hadn’t a care in the world.

I watched the sheriff come to a screeching halt in front of my vehicle and get out of his car. He looked just exactly like I imagined he would. He’s a dead ringer for Sheriff Bufford T. Justice from “Smokey and the Bandit.”

He hiked his pants up as far as his huge belly would permit and swaggered to the door of my vehicle. He pounded on the door a couple of times and then loudly demanded, “Open up! I know you’re in there!”

In that brief moment I suffered a bit of a flashback. In the last few years I’ve been forced to deal with all too many prison guards like this ignorant asshole. I know just exactly how his little mind works.

I opened the door and smiled politely. I stood in the door and looked him up and down before calmly saying, “Yes, sheriff? What can I do for you?”

He glared at me, trying to intimidate me. He could tell it wasn’t working and that seemed to upset him even more. He loudly announced, “I’m looking for a thief. I understand you ran into her over at Phelps Market a little while ago.”

I’m not sure how he knew it was me. Maybe he assumes it was me because I’m the only one around. I nodded and replied, “Yeah, although it was more like she ran into me. I don’t know where she went, though. She thanked me for paying for the bread she was carrying and then she took off like a bat out of hell.”

It’s obvious from the skeptical look on his face he doesn’t believe me. He said, “Uh-huh. Well, the problem with that is, I drove around our little town looking for her and I didn’t see her. She hasn’t had time to get out of town. I need to come in and have a look around.”

I continued to smile and look friendly. I nodded and said, “Sure thing, sheriff. You let me see your search warrant and you can look at anything you want.”

He turned bright red. He obviously doesn’t like being denied. He growled, “What are you, some kinda lawyer? What are you trying to hide, boy?”

My expression never changed. But my tone did. I replied, “First of all, I’m not a boy. You can call me sir if you need to call me anything. And no, I’m not a lawyer. But anyone who has ever watched television knows that if you aren’t chasing someone and no one inside is screaming for help you need a warrant or permission. You have my permission to get a warrant.”

I probably could have avoided pissing him off like that. I could have told him to come on in. I don’t think he could have squeezed his fat ass through the door. But damn that was fun!

He glowered at me for a moment and then said, “You don’t move this rig from this spot, ya hear? I’m going to go see the judge and get me a warrant. If you ain’t here when I return I’m gonna put out an APB on you.”

I tried to look like I genuinely felt bad about not being able to help him out. I replied, “I’m sorry, sheriff. I need to get going. I’m already behind schedule. So if I’m not under arrest for paying for a loaf of bread then I’m afraid I can’t wait around. But you feel free to catch up with me when you get that warrant. I’m curious to see what you’re going to use for probable cause. You have a nice day now, ya hear.”

He stood there with his ham-like paw on the grip of his pistol and glared at me as I shut the door in his face and went forward. I sat down, buckled up and started the engine. He was still glaring at me as I backed up a couple of feet to clear his car and drove slowly away.

I headed west on Route 9. My original intention was to stay on the secondary roads for a while and do some sightseeing. But I thought it might be a good idea to put some miles between us and that redneck sheriff so I headed for I-81.

I heard the bathroom door open as I drove away from the sheriff. I called to ... damn! I still don’t know her name. I said, “You can come out. But you better stay low until we get out of town.”

She crawled across the floor on her hands and knees and sat on the plush carpeting beside me. She leaned back against the padded dash with her legs folded underneath her.

Harpers Ferry isn’t a big town and I wasn’t parked that far from the town limits. In about five minutes we thought it was probably safe. She poked her head up and looked around, then got up into the passenger’s seat. She said, “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

I smiled and said, “You’re quite welcome. But it wasn’t an entirely selfless move on my part. I thought it would be nice to kidnap you so I’d have someone to talk to now and then.”

I felt her watching me. I guess she’s still trying to decide if she’s in any danger. We were ten miles out of town when I had a sudden thought and said, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. What about your things, your belongings?”

She shrugged and said, “I don’t have much.”

“Yeah, but you’ll need...”

“The only thing I left in that town was a small clutch purse with a worn out tooth brush and an almost empty tube of toothpaste. For the last three weeks I’ve been living in empty buildings and freezing my ass off at night. I’ve lost what little I owned, or had it taken from me. I don’t have a penny to my name and that asshole sheriff made damned sure I never got an opportunity to earn one. I guess I’m nothing but a vagrant. I must be a big disappointment as damsels in distress go.”

I shrugged and said, “That’s okay. I didn’t have any expectations. I haven’t met a lot of damsels in distress. We’ll stop for the night in Pennsylvania and do a little shopping. I’m new at this RVing but I met a nice couple who gave me a lot of advice. One of the things I learned is that Wal-Mart stores let RVs park in their lots overnight. We can stop at one of those and buy you some clothes and whatever toiletries you need. Then later we can get you something decent.”

There was a long silence before she quietly asked, “And how do you propose I repay you?”

I chuckled and answered, “Not that way. I told you, I’m not going to molest you. You can repay me by keeping me company.”

She stared at me for a few more minutes before she asked, “Are you for real?”

“I guess so. At least I have a name!”

She laughed and replied, “I’ve been called a lot of things lately. None of them were my name. Sorry. I forgot that we haven’t been formally introduced. My name is Kelly, Kelly Wilson.”

“Hello, Kelly Wilson. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

We didn’t talk very much. But I found I enjoy having her sitting there. I’ve been living a very solitary existence. I don’t think I realized how much I miss the company of another human being. It’s been a long time.

It wasn’t long before we crossed into Maryland and I felt comfortable stopping. I pulled into a rest stop and parked as far away from the eighteen wheelers as I could. I stood up and asked, “It’s mid morning. Would you prefer breakfast or lunch?”

Her eyes lit up at the mention of food. She replied, “Is the offer for one of your killer omelets still good?”

I got all the ingredients out and made bacon and my four cheese omelet. They’re pretty rich. But I’m a cheese freak and I love them. They’re one of the many things I missed when I was locked up and I’ve been making up for lost time.

I made coffee and set the table. She offered to help but I don’t really need any help. Besides, she’s company.

I served breakfast on the small kitchen table with a nice view of a busy parking lot through the large, tinted window. We sat across from each other and ate quietly. Everything seemed to be fine until she finished wrapping herself around breakfast and sat back. I glanced up, about to ask her how she liked my cooking. That was when I noticed the tears running down her cheeks.

She covered her face and quietly sobbed, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not such good company after all.”

“What’s wrong?”

She didn’t respond at first. Then she moaned and sobbed, “Oh god! I must stink so bad! I haven’t had a shower or any clean clothes in ... shit! I don’t even know how long! You must think I’m a pig. I’m not. I swear I’m not. I just...”

I reached across the table and gently pulled her hands away from her face. I asked, “Do you really want to know what I think? I was just thinking how much I’ve missed the company of another human being. I’ve been alone since my wife was killed almost four years ago.”

She looked across at me and as if there were some way she could have known she exclaimed, “Oh god! I’m sorry! I’m such an idiot!”

I laughed and said, “If you don’t calm down and relax a little you’ll be claiming responsibility pretty soon. You don’t stink. You’re as pretty as can be. I like your spunk. And they caught the man who killed my wife so you’re off the hook for that.

“If it will make you feel any better you can take a shower. I can loan you a shirt and some running shorts to put on for now. But you’ll probably have to put what you’re wearing back on when we go into Wal-Mart.”

She wiped her eyes on her napkin and sat up straight. She looked at me, studying me again. After a minute or so she asked, “Are you really this good? All my life people have dumped on me. I don’t know how to act when someone is nice to me. I’ve never had to worry about how I can repay someone.”

“You still don’t. You don’t owe me anything. I told you, I enjoy your company.”

“Bull! I know me better than that. Most of the time I can’t stand me.”

I laughed and said, “I guess I’m just a better judge of character than you are.”

I got up and went into the back. I came back with a Harley t-shirt and a pair of running shorts with a string tie at the waist. I handed them to her and said, “Come on. I’ll show you how the shower works.”

I familiarized her with the shower and pointed out the body wash and shampoo. I put out a clean towel and a washcloth and dug out a spare tooth brush. I said, “Take your time but hurry. The water should still be pretty warm but once you use up what’s in that little hot water tank you’ll be taking a cold shower. You can take another shower tonight after we stop for the night. But I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere. I don’t have a schedule or reservations and no one is waiting for me anywhere. So don’t feel rushed.”

I went out and cleaned up the kitchen while she took her first shower in she doesn’t know how long.

She came out twenty minutes later looking like a new woman. She looks a little funny in my clothes. But I can see how much more relaxed she is.

She stood before me and struck a fashion model pose. She smiled and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this sexy before!”

I laughed and replied, “And I’m sure that t-shirt has never been happier.”

She dropped her pose and put her arms around my waist. She held me close and said, “I can’t thank you enough. I wish there was something I could do to show my gratitude. You have to be the nicest man I’ve ever met.”

I put my arms around her shoulders and said, “Yeah, but there are a hell of a lot of people you haven’t met yet.”

She leaned back and said, “You don’t take compliments well, do you?”

“I suppose not. But you’re giving me much too much credit. I’m doing nothing extraordinary and I’m getting as much as you are from our little arrangement.”

Kelly shook her head and said, “No. You seem to have put far too great a value on my company. I just hope it takes you a long time to realize it.”

I stepped back and said, “Come on. Let’s get going. I’ll feel better when we get a little further away from Sheriff Justice.”

We took our seats and I pulled the motorhome out onto the interstate again. We took another break at the Pennsylvania welcome center. While we were there I looked up Wal-Mart stores in the Harrisburg area on the computer. I decided to drive through Harrisburg and stop in Lebanon. It’s about ten miles off the interstate and will hopefully be a little quieter. We can relax there, go shopping and plan our route for the next day.

We didn’t talk much at first. I’m curious about Kelly and I’m sure she’s curious about me. But I guess we’re both uncomfortable opening up to someone we just met. I’m certainly not anxious to tell anyone that I recently spent three years on death row.

Kelly finally began to open up a little after we left the Pennsylvania welcome center. We were just getting back on the road when she sighed and said, “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“No. Not really. You don’t owe me anything. If you feel like talking I’m not going anywhere. But don’t feel obligated to tell me anything because you aren’t.”

“Once I get started you might try to climb out that window.”

I promised to pull over to the side of the road first. She sat back in her seat. When she started talking I got the impression she already knew what she was going to say. She must have been thinking about it all morning.

“I’ve lived in or around Harpers Ferry all my life. My mom died when I was fourteen. That pig of a sheriff was speeding to what he called a crime scene. Someone complained about all the noise at a birthday party. He ran a stop sign and t-boned my mom’s car. She didn’t live long enough to make it to the hospital.

“My dad went kind of crazy after that. He sued the sheriff and the town but he only got twenty thousand dollars. They said my mom wasn’t paying attention. She should have heard the siren so she was guilty of contributory negligence even though the only witness to the accident said that he didn’t hear the siren or see any flashing lights on the Sheriff’s car. That made dad even more furious.

“After that he went on a crusade against the sheriff. He spent every minute he could just following him around town and writing down everything he did. He’d report him to the town council every time he did the least little thing my dad thought he shouldn’t do. He would demand that they fire him on a weekly basis. He campaigned against him at every election. It got to the point that I was afraid the sheriff was going to see to it my dad had an accident.

“He started turning the tables on my father. He followed him and gave him tickets for things no one even knew were against the law or he made things up altogether. And he started hassling me, too. Sometimes he pulled me out of class to take me to the cop shop and question me about something he knew I didn’t know anything about.

“Even though I didn’t do anything wrong I started getting a really bad reputation at school because of all the time he spent questioning me. I was the sheriff’s “go to girl” every time anyone did anything wrong in that town. The teachers started watching me like a hawk. I couldn’t blink without getting a warning or detention.

“The A Team at school, you know, the cheerleaders and the jocks and their friends, they started picking on me, too. One day one of them sprayed what must have been a whole can of paint into my locker. Dad had to buy me all new books and replace my only winter coat.

“Dad started drinking heavily when I was a sophomore. He lost his job not long after that. We lived on his unemployment and the little bit that was left from his settlement with the town. By the time I was a senior he just stayed drunk. Sometimes he’d get an odd job somewhere and buy a little food. But generally if he had money it went for booze.

“He died just before I graduated from high school. It was almost a relief. There wasn’t much left of the man who had been my father by then.

“I can’t really explain what happened to me after that. I got a few jobs around town. It wasn’t easy. I had a pretty bad reputation by then. But the sheriff wouldn’t let it rest. He saw to it that I lost every job I ever had. He’d come around my job and ask me questions about things he knew I didn’t know anything about. Then he’d take my boss aside and hassle him, too. No employer is going to put up with that crap for long.