David Goodis: Five Noir Novels of the 1940s and '50s (Library of America) Read Online Free PDF

away in a truck. They gave the location where police stopped the truck. I know the section very well. I used to paint.”
    “You used to paint what?”
    “Water color. Landscape stuff. I used to hang around there and paint those meadows and hills. Sometimes I’d go into the hills and I’d get a slant on the woods. Then sometimes I’d use the road to get another slant on the woods. That’s how I knew about the road. I had a feeling you’d be on that road.”
    “I’m supposed to believe that.”
    “Don’t you want to believe it? Then don’t believe it. Do you want to get out?”
    “What?”
    “I said do you want to get out? I got you past the police. If you had taken that Studebaker you’d be on your way back to San Quentin by now. That’s one thing. And if they had pulled back that blanket another few inches I’d be letting myself in for a few years of prison. That’s another thing. Right now I’m letting myself in for a broken jaw.”
    “What do you mean a broken jaw?”
    “You’re all set to clip me one, aren’t you?”
    Parry said, “Now I know why you stick up for the fortune tellers. You’re a fortune teller yourself. You’re a mind reader.”
    “Please, Vincent. Please wait it out.”
    “Wait for what?”
    “For the chance. A real chance. There’s going to be a real chance for you. I have the feeling——”
    “Let’s try a hard one,” Parry said. “Tell me the date of my birth.”
    “April first, the way you’re acting now. Do you want to get out?”
    “You want to get rid of me, don’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m beginning to feel afraid.”
    “Sister, I don’t blame you. The law——”
    “I’m not afraid of the law, Vincent. I’m afraid of you. I’m sorry I started this. I’m sorry I threw the blanket in the back of the car and went out to find you. Now I’ve found you and I’m stuck with you. I didn’t know it would be this way.”
    “What way?”
    “You. The way you’re carrying on. I thought it would be very different from what it is. I thought you’d be soft. And kind. And very grateful. Very grateful for every little thing. That’s the way I always imagined you. That’s the way you were at the trial.”
    “You attended the trial?”
    “Yes. I was there almost every day.”
    “How come?”
    “I was interested.”
    “In me?”
    “Yes.”
    “Sorry for me.”
    “Yes. At the trial. And after you were sentenced. And earlier today. Now I’m no longer interested. I did something I wanted to do very badly. I did my little bit for you. And it hasn’t turned out the way I thought it would turn out. You’re not soft, Vincent. You’re mean—and I’m stuck with you.”
    “You’re not stuck with me,” Parry said. “I’m getting out here. And I’m not doing what I did to Studebaker. All I’m doing is saying good-by and good luck.”
    The Pontiac went over to the side of the road and came to a stop.
    “How is it?” Parry said.
    “It’s clear.”
    “Any place I can duck?”
    “Take a look.”
    He brought his head up and gazed through all the windows. Directly ahead the wide white road sliced through a narrow valley devoid of houses. On the right side the valley widened and on the left side there was a patch of woodland going level for a few hundred yards and then climbing up a mountain.
    “This will be all right,” Parry said. He put his hand on the door handle. He tilted the back of the empty front seat, quickly opened the door and leaped out. Running toward the patch of woodland he heard the Pontiac going away.
    He was twenty yards away from the woodland when he heard a motor grinding and without looking he knew that the Pontiac was in reverse and coming back. He turned and raced toward the road.
    The door was open for him.
    She said, “Get in.”
    He jumped in, closed the door and got under the blanket as if it were home and he had been away from home for a long time.
    The Pontiac started forward and went into second and moved up