Chapter 44

We were quiet as we drove away from the Kozak house. I got a few blocks away and pulled over.

“You drive,” I said. “My arm isn’t used to shifting gears.”

Liz looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

“You’re going to let me drive your car?” she asked.

“I think the changing temperatures and air pressure didn’t do me much good,” I said as I opened the door and got out. Liz met me at the rear of the car and gave me a sweet kiss.

“You must really love me,” she said, smiling at me.

“Well, there is that,” I said.

“Which way to the freeway?” she asked.

“Uh, we don’t go near the freeway to get back to Susan’s,” I said.

“We do today,” Liz said. She gave the car a little gas and got us going again. It took her a minute to get used to the clutch and the shifter but she was a smooth driver (something I’d noticed with the Jeep).

She grinned like a girl with a brand new puppy as she navigated the side streets. She saw a sign for the interstate and took the on ramp northward (ignoring my protests).

“What are the Samsonites?” she asked as she pushed the car to 70 miles per hour. I had never ridden in the passenger seat of my car but I supposed Liz’s smile made the sacrifice worthwhile.

“A cult,” I said.

“Oh, shit, I remember them!” Liz declared. “And Amber’s mother was...”

“A vassal, I suppose,” I said. “That’s what it sounds like.”

“I’m not sure what that is,” Liz admitted. “I only heard parts of the story. I think I was in Germany when all that happened.”

“The vassals were girls essentially given to the ... I think the term was prelates,” I said. “We’re talking 10 or 11 years old when they were given over. They were sex slaves, pure and simple. They were basically itinerants. They moved from town to town and then picked up and moved if anyone got suspicious. The Feds busted them about well, I would guess just about the time Amber was born. A few of the girls managed to get away or run away or something. It was a big scandal down this way because the same social service people that won’t let Joe adopt a child had failed to even look at hundreds of complaints against the members. The fucked up part is that all the girls that were set free were thrown right back into the same system that let them down in the first place.

“It’s no surprise that Amber’s mother wound up in prison. She was a rape victim for most of her older childhood and then tossed in the foster care system as a teenager. She might have even gone to juvie straight from the compound. A lot of the kids were smuggling dope across the border from Mexicali. It’s hard to say. But it’s really no shock to me that she hooked up with some bikers. There were rumors that one of the outlaw gangs in the southwest had ties to the cult. I don’t know. It made me a little sick to my stomach so I avoided it as much as I could.”

“Could Amber’s father come back to claim her?” Liz asked.

“Only if he’s capable of rising from the dead,” I answered. “Most of the prelates committed suicide before the raid. The four or five that didn’t – they didn’t even make it to trial before somebody killed them in prison. That’s what started the rumors about ties to a biker gang. There was no sensational trial so the story went away after a couple of months.”

“That poor girl,” Liz said. “I feel as sorry for Amber’s mother as I do for Amber.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think I read where there were 18 teenage girls and 26 or 27 children removed from the compound. Amber’s mom must have snuck away before the raid if she dropped the baby at a fire station or something. The State sent some of the girls back to live with the fucking parents that had sold them in the first place.”

“Maybe that’s what happened to Amber’s mother,” Liz offered.

I admitted I didn’t know.

“Uh, if you’re going to paint a rainbow, you need to turn the car around soon,” I said.

Liz looked over at me and grinned.

“If I hadn’t agreed to do it, I’d take you away somewhere and rock your world right now,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re letting me drive your car.”

“I noticed that you started to refer to a lot of your possessions as ‘ours, ‘“ I said with a shrug. “I figured this is about all I own that you might want to share.”

“Your bed,” Liz replied. “Your friends, the rest of your life. You have a lot I want to share.”

“Then pull the fuck over and get out of the driver’s seat of my car,” I said.

Liz gave me the finger.

“As they say in Japan: ‘Fuck you, ‘“ she told me with a laugh.

The shocked looks on the faces of my friends when we pulled back up to Susan’s house made letting Liz drive even more worthwhile.

“What the fuck, Travis?” Sarah asked. “You never let me drive your car.”

“I had to put up with his lecherous advances for the past two weeks,” Liz said.

“Oh, gross,” Sarah said.

“You’re telling me,” Liz agreed – much to the enjoyment of everyone else.

“If that’s the cost, I’ll stick to riding the bus,” Sarah said.

“I heard you preferred to pull trains,” I said. Only Chris appeared to know the context of the phrase “pulling a train” because he flinched. The rest of the people just stared at me.

“Get Liz to introduce you to the urban dictionary online,” I said. “You’ll understand the reference and consider me a genius for coming up with it so quickly.”

“Uh, no,” Eric said. “We might get the reference but genius is pretty much out of the question. You’re the one that put Lucas’s shoes on the wrong feet for him once.”

“They were completely round!” I said in my defense.

“You cripple my child and I still can’t drive your car,” Sarah said.

Everyone was carrying things into the house by this point. I started to join in but Liz pushed me aside.

“I drove his car because his shoulder hurt too much to shift gears,” she said with a frustrated sigh.

“Dude, seriously,” Rick said.

“I promised nothing but yoga pants and unzipped cycling tops while he recuperates,” Liz announced.

“I hope your Twit pic frenzy continues then,” Chris said, bumping fists with Matt.

“I’ll have you know that Travis talked me out of posting one yesterday in a sports bra and running shorts,” Liz told them as she took my place.

“Dude, seriously?” Matt said, mimicking Rick as best as he could.

“I thought we’d work up to it,” I said. “You can’t go from burka to hand bra overnight. She did gym shorts last week and the jeans and T-shirt pictures on Saturday. Yesterday was a pullover and denim shorts. I’ll have her in a thong with an arm across her bare breasts by the end of the month.”

I was fortunate that everyone had their hands full. It kept Liz from smacking me.

“Jerk,” she said instead.

“Did you see the Alyssa Grace video?” Sarah asked.

“Which one?” Liz asked.

“She went full inbred on Saturday,” Sarah replied. “A surveillance camera caught her peeing in the corner of a nightclub in L.A. and spitting in people’s drinks as she walked past empty tables. It’s totally fucked up.”

“She’s a total bitch,” Liz replied, as she’d told me earlier on the day I’d run into her again.

“And apparently a stupid one,” Stephanie said. “I know you said things weren’t up for a debate.”

“They’re not,” Liz said.

“Then let me just point out that Travis is going to be in for a ration of shit from the fans that don’t particularly care for your change of image,” Stephanie said. “They’re going to look at him as some Svengali that corrupted pure, innocent Liz.”

Liz looked at me and I held my hands upward. Stephanie had just parroted the argument I had used to persuade her that a sports bra picture probably should wait six months or so.

“I didn’t say a word,” I said quickly.

“Fine,” Liz said. “But I’m still not putting up with shit from the paparazzi anymore.”

“That’s fine,” Susan said. “That’s just you standing up for yourself and for others. If anyone thinks anything about Travis when you do it they’ll think he’s either your backbone or...”

“A total pussy you’ve got to protect,” Sarah finished with a laugh. “Personally...”

“Bite me,” I said.

Sarah winked and stuck her tongue out at me.

“I thought it worked for you,” Rick said. “The spin and the point were emphatic. You were calling him out. But ... Travis ... no cursing.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said.

“At least it wasn’t a big one,” Susan responded. “But PG-13 works better.”

“He said he knows,” Liz cut in. “He’s not a moron. You don’t need to reiterate everything you tell him.”

“Uh, you sorta do,” Sarah said, laughing.

Liz looked around the room.

“I don’t want anyone ganging up on me and I’m not going to stand by and watch the rest of you gang up on anyone,” she said. “I’m not just talking about Travis. I’m talking about everybody. If two or more of you have an idea at the same time, it’s one thing. But I know you three had a little conference before we got here. I’ve seen how you work. It’s the same way that Stephanie and Jill have been texting back and forth with their people and Ryan has been talking with Dom and Brian. But I’d prefer you select a spokesperson and keep from battering anyone from three sides every time one of us screws up. OK?”

“Got it,” Rick said, nodding.

“It’s something else that we need to set aside from our previous working experiences,” I said. “At St. Joe’s, in order to get anything done, you had to constantly barrage the administrators. If it didn’t work on the first one, you went over their head to the next level. If you felt strongly about it, you enlisted the aid of legal or someone from human resources to add credence to your cause. We’ll work on it.”

“Good,” Liz said. “Now, no more work talk. We’re here to put a bedroom together!”

We worked and joked for the next four hours.

Having 13 pairs of hands (or 12, actually since I was pushed away anytime I reached for anything heavier than a chicken wing) made the work go pretty quick.

We had the room painted, the moldings back in place and the cutest trundle bed in place by the time Sarah left to pick up the boys from their elementary school. We adjourned to the back yard for wings but most of us had iced tea or water since we needed to leave soon.

It was about a five-hour drive along Interstate 8 to Phoenix from the San Diego suburb where Chris and Susan lived. Liz wanted to drive it, pointing out that it would take us an hour to arrange for the plane to leave, another half hour to drive back to the airport, an hour and a half to board the plane and fly to Phoenix and then another hour to get out of the Phoenix airport and to a hotel on the western suburb of Surprise where we would stay.

Ryan was fine with the idea until Liz mentioned that she wanted to drive my car across.

“This might be the last time he lets me drive it!” Liz protested with a mock whine. “We do the same way we did it here. One of you in front; one of you drives behind.”

“And if someone pulls up beside you and starts taking pictures?” Ryan asked.

“You two box him in and we drive off and meet up a few miles down the road,” Liz answered with a smug smile.

“Let me guess: This isn’t up for debate,” Ryan grumbled.

“Yes, we can debate this,” Liz said. “I thought you’d actually like the idea. The press knows I’m in San Diego. They know I have to be in Phoenix by morning. They’re at both airports. They’re probably not waiting for us along the highway. If you want, we can add a third vehicle. Dom can drive one; Brian can drive one; you can drive one. I’ll pay for it. It won’t come out of your budget. But Travis and I are coming back here for a few days after Phoenix.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Ryan said. “I haven’t had time to make arrangements here yet.”

“I know,” Liz said. “We’re thinking just for a night or two. I wanted to talk to you about the next few weeks and see how everybody is situated for some time away.”