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6
“Abby? Are you listening?”
“Sure,” Dan said. I just had to take a little time-out to play a word. “This is interesting.”
“Anyway, Momo was living in Manhattan at that time, and when Alessandra came to see her that
June, she was pregnant.”
“Pregnant with Mom?”
“That’s right, Abba-Doo.”
“So Mom was born out of wedlock?”
Total surprise, and maybe the tiniest bit overdone. Dan, in the peculiar position of both
participating and eavesdropping on the discussion, now realized something he found touching and
sweetly comic: Abra knew perfectly well that her mother was illegitimate. Lucy had told her the year
before. What Abra was doing now, strange but true, was protecting her father’s innocence.
“That’s right, honey. But it’s no crime. Sometimes people get . . . I don’t know . . . confused.
Family trees can grow strange branches, and there’s no reason for you not to know that.”
“Gramma Sandy died a couple of months after Mom was born, right? In a car wreck.”
“That’s right. Momo was babysitting Lucy for the afternoon, and ended up raising her. That’s the
reason they’re so close, and why Momo getting old and sick has been so hard on your mom.”
“Who was the man who got Gramma Sandy pregnant? Did she ever say?”
“Tell you what,” Dave said, “that’s an interesting question. If Alessandra ever told, Momo kept it
to herself.” He pointed ahead, at the lane cutting through the woods. “Look, honey, almost there!”
They were passing a sign reading CLOUD GAP PICNIC AREA, 2 MI.
7
Crow’s party made a brief stop in Anniston to gas up the Winnebago, but on lower Main Street, at
least a mile from Richland Court. As they left town—Snake now at the wheel and an epic called
Swinging Sorority Sisters on the DVD player—Barry called Jimmy Numbers to his bed.
“You guys got to step it up a notch,” Barry said. “They’re almost there. It’s a place called Cloud
Gap. Did I tell you that?”
“Yeah, you did.” Jimmy almost patted Barry’s hand, then thought better of it.
“They’ll be spreading their picnic in no time. That’s when you should take them, while they’re sat
down and eating.”
“We’ll get it done,” Jimmy promised. “And in time to twist enough steam out of her to help you.
Rose can’t object to that.”
“She never would,” Barry agreed, “but it’s too late for me. Maybe not for you, though.”
“Huh?”
“Look at your arms.”
Jimmy did, and saw the first spots blooming on the soft white skin below his elbows. Red death.
His mouth went dry at the sight of them.
“Oh Christ, here I go,” Barry moaned, and suddenly his clothes were collapsing in on a body that
was no longer there. Jimmy saw him swallow . . . and then his throat was gone.
“Move,” Nut said. “Let me at him.”
“Yeah? What are you going to do? He’s cooked.”
Jimmy went up front and dropped into the passenger seat, which Crow had vacated. “Take Route
14-A around Frazier,” he said. “That’s quicker than going through the downtown. You’ll connect with