The ride back to town was silent. For the most part. Genny did give a soliloquy on Russian post-revolution literature, which consists of one book: How Supreme Leader Taught Me to Love Potatoes. Country mainly stared out the window. Rows of houses and shuttered buildings stared back. A certain nostalgia rose from the pit of his stomach.
“You mean, a certain nausea,” Country said.
“Huh?” Genny said.
“I was just correcting … ah, never mind.”
Silence descended over the cruiser again, this time on everybody’s part. Sheriff Jeremiah dropped the two at Genny’s place and bid a hasty but heartfelt goodbye but not before offering Country a position in the department. Country declined and shook the sheriff’s hand which was quite awkward seeing as how the sheriff went in for a hug. Genny zipped in and accepted the hug in Country’s stead.
“He seems nice,” Genny said as the sheriff drove off.
“He’s a good guy,” Country agreed. “Well, let’s grab your things and go.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t stay here, Gen. It’s not safe. In fact, this whole town’s not safe.”
“I don’t know. I kind of like it here. I’ve got Quince and the salon. Just landed a huge new account. Some group called the Hairy Krishnas or something. If I had to guess, I’d say they were people covered in fur. Then, there’s Pierre and the Tortugas, Hollywood and the pedophiles … oh, I see your point. Still, I’m not sure I want to leave. My dad’s here somewhere. I can feel it, and I want … I need to find him.”
“Your dad’s not in L.A.” Country said it with the confidence of someone who knew more than he let on.
“How can you be so sure?” Genny asked.
“I … it’s … you see ….”
“Spit it out, Country Bivins.”
“Alright. Here goes. I’ve had an email exchange for the last three months with a person who says he’s seen your father.”
Genny’s complexion turned from milky white to Nicole Kidman white, the color draining from her face and landing in her lips. Country thought she was having an allergic reaction and jammed an EpiPen into her thigh. All it did was make Genny even angrier.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The rest of the words stuck in her throat. She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from him. He placed his hand on her shoulder with the gentle touch she knew so well.
“I didn’t want to tell you until I was reasonably sure he was there. I knew how much it would hurt you if I ended up being wrong.”
“Are you saying you know where he is?” Genny’s countenance lifted.
Country exhaled slowly. “I’m saying I might know.”
“Stop beating around the bush,” Genny said, “and tell me what’s going on.”
“I think I saw your dad.” Genny tried to jump in, but he kept talking. “A photo of him, that is. Not around here, though. It was beside the Golden Gate Bridge. The photo was blurry, so I couldn’t tell for sure. But ….” He paused. “But something inside told me … tells me it’s him. The way he looks. The way he stands. You know how he tilts slightly to the left when he’s giving a half-hearted lecture?”
Genny nodded.
“That’s what I saw.”
“How’d you get a hold of the picture? Was it from your email exchange, whatever that is?”
“Email. Electronic mail. It’s like regular mail only electronic.”
“How do you put the stamp on the envelope?”
“You don’t. It’s … I’ll explain later. The point is the guy who sent me the photo is someone I trust. I think.”
“Who is it?”
Country inhaled slowly this time.
“You really should take more breaths,” Genny suggested.
“Jorge.”
“Hor-hay Jorge or Jorj Jorge?”
“Jorj Jorge.”
“He’s … he’s alive?” Genny’s heart fluttered. “Is Blake with him?”
“I should have been more specific,” Country said. “It’s someone who says he’s Jorge. I can’t find a reason to doubt him, though. As to your other question, he’s never mentioned Blake. Then again, the topic never came up.”
“You think you’ve been talking with Jorge, our good friend who we assumed was dead but turns out to be alive and well in California, and the topic of Blake never came up.”
“We’re guys,” Country offered as an explanation.
Genny accepted it and moved on. “So, what’s our next step? I assume we’re headed to the Golden Gate Bridge. Where is that, by the way?”
“San Francisco.”
“San Francisco?” Genny had the strangest look when she said it.
“What is it, Gen?”
“I was just offered a residency position in a hospital not too far from San Francisco. Some place called Silly Con Valley.”
“Silicon Valley.” It was Country’s face’s turn to broadcast strangeness.
“Do you know it?” Genny asked.
“I know of it. I was just offered a job as a computer programmer at a tech company in Silicon Valley.”
“What an unusual coincidence,” Genny said.
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
Country and Genny rubbed each other’s chins in deep contemplation. A dazed opossum stumbled across the pavement towards them.
“Scurvy!” Genny yelled out. “Where’ve you been?”
“Hibernating,” Country answered for the marsupial.
“I didn’t know opossums hibernated in the fall.”
Country shrugged. “You ready to go?”
“Give me a minute. I need to get a few things,” she said as she headed to her apartment.
“Sure. I’ll have Scurvy pull the truck around. And Gen?”
Genny turned around halfway up the steps. “Yeah, Country?”
“I’m glad we’re together again.”
“Me too, Country,” she said and bounded up the stairs.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“How did it go?”
“Everything went according to plan.”
“They got out alive?”
She knew he knew the answer already. “They’re safe and sound,” she said.
“Good.”
“Are you going to send him soon?” she asked.
“In due time.”
“I suppose you want me to follow them to San Francisco.”
He shook his head. “No, Cherie. I want you to stay right here. I have other plans for you.” He looked off into the distance. “And for them.”