jdavid.footprintsofthunder-第14部分
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When they reached the surface； the police needed to interview all the hostages and have them fill out reports。 It took hours。
It was nearly dawn when Terry and Ellen were finally released。 As they walked toward the parking lot Terry saw the military man。 When his eyes met Terry's； he and his wife began walking toward them。 The couples met with hands extended。
〃My name's Conrad； Bill Conrad。 Good job in there；〃 he said to Terry。
〃I only followed your lead。 I'm Terry and this is my wife Ellen。〃
〃This is my wife Angie。 Man； wasn't that strange？〃 Bill said shaking his head from side to side in slow movements。 〃I wonder what he thought was going to happen？〃
In the parking lot they found a knot of excited people clustered around a motor home。 Terry could hear voices from a CB radio。
〃What's going on？〃 Angie asked。
A couple broke off from the group； anxious to share the excitement with newers。
〃You're not going to believe this； but something has happened to the interstate。 It's gone！〃
〃What？ An avalanche？〃 Terry asked。
〃Maybe；〃 the woman responded； 〃but that's not the way it sounds。 You drive up 1…5 and it just ends。 Where there was a four…lane highway； now there's grass； trees； and a mountain。 Can you believe that？ A mountain。〃
12。 ROAD GAMES
。 。 。 the day of the Lord will e like a thief in the night。 When people say； 〃there is peace and security；〃 then sudden destruction will e upon them。 。 。
…I Thessalonians 5：2
Newberg； Oregon
TIME QUILT： SATURDAY； 11：20 P。M。 PST
Ripman was keeping time from the driver's seat of Cubby's van while Cubby stared at the Taco Bell sign。 John was spread out on the bench behind them。 All three of them had Big Gulps wedged in their crotches。 Ripman kept calling out the time and revving the engine。
〃Two minutes； big guy。 You got two minutes！ No way you're gonna win。 I can taste that pie already。〃
〃Cram it； Ripman；〃 Cubby growled。
All three of them slurped periodically on their Big Gulps。 It was the last turn of the last round； and the loser was buying Hostess pies。 Ripman was way ahead； so the contest was between Cubby and John。
They were twenty miles out of Portland in Newberg； one of the too…small towns that had nearly faded into obscurity when the interstate had bypassed it thirty years ago。 The motels； drive…ins； and restaurants that had eked out a modest living off the highway traffic were mostly gone now； and the town was at the mercy of the big paper mill。 Given another two decades of urban growth； Newberg would be absorbed into the urban sprawl of Portland。 For now； however； fifteen miles of forests and farms separated Newberg from the city。
John； Cubby； and Ripman normally played road anagrams on 82nd Avenue or 122nd in Portland； but they'd gotten bored and craved new territory。 So they found Newberg。 There was a little college there； and they drove around for a while yelling out the van windows at the coeds。 When they tired of that they found lots of opportunity for their game along the highway。
They started on the west side of town at the Dairy Queen； one of the old…fashioned kind with no eating space inside。 A reader board outside advertised specials on blizzards and banana splits。
BUZZARDS 1。99
BANANA SPLITS 1。99
SUNDAES 1。49
Ripman studied the sign for a minute； waited until there was a lull in the traffic； then reshuffled the letters so the sign read
LIZZARD LIP SUNDAES 99。99
He left the rest of the letters in a pile on the ground。 Cubby loved it； and John had to admit it was a high scorer。
John went next； picking the AM/PM sign。 The sign read
PARTY TIME？ WE HAVE BEER AND ICE
when they pulled in。 John switched the letters around so the sign read
PARTY？
WE HAVE RICE AND BEET
Ripman called it a 〃piss poor effort；〃 and Cubby just snorted agreement。
When John challenged Cubby to do better； Cubby picked the D &。 D video sign：
JOIN OUR VIDEO GOLD CLUB MEMBER DISCOUNTS
Cubby hopped out and came back a minute later。 As they pulled out they read
RODEO MOLD ONE DIME
Ripman cackled his approval； pulled into the 7…Eleven and made John buy Big Gulps。
When Cubby finished this round； one way or another he was going to have to tell them he had to get home。 It was nearly eleven…thirty； and under no circumstances could he take the chance of staying out past midnight。 His parents would be home from their trip by now； and he didn't want them to think he'd been out past curfew every night。
The worst part would be telling his friends he had to get home； 〃Jeez；〃 Ripman would say； 〃they've really got you whipped。 What a wuss。〃 Cubby wouldn't say much in words； but his crooked smile and raised eyebrows would say as much as Ripman did in words。
John was always the first to have to get home。 His father was a psychologist and occasionally taught parenting classes。 His credibility depended on how he raised his own kids； so he was meticulous in that area。 〃The keys to good parenting；〃 his father always said； 〃are consistency and discipline。〃 While John had a clear set of rules that were virtually inviolable； Ripman's father didn't care what he did； as long as he did it somewhere else。 And Ripman was usually somewhere else。
Cubby's father was the worst though。 He was the most popular minister in the state and even had a regional following on cable TV。 He 〃trusted〃 his son。 He 〃trusted〃 him enough to buy him the van； and 〃trusted〃 him enough not to put restrictions on him； except one。 He had to be in church every Sunday morning and every Wednesday evening。 Otherwise； until he violated his father's trust； what Cubby did was 〃between his son and the Holy Spirit。〃 As far as John knew； Cubby had never done anything to violate that trust。 At least not anything his father knew about。 There was no way to know what the 〃Holy Spirit〃 knew。
〃All right； Ripman；〃 Cubby said with confidence in his voice； 〃get me under that sign。 This is for Hostess pies； right？〃
Ripman put the van in gear and pulled up。 Before it stopped rolling Cubby had his head poked up through the sunroof and was holding the long…handled sign changer； which Ripman had 〃found〃 and Cubby kept in his van。 Overhead signs always earned more points。
Cubby； at six foot five inches with a heavily packed frame； filled the opening in the roof。 The football coaches drooled every time Cubby walked by； but Cubby had never had any interest in their game。 The biggest guy in school； he was about the gentlest。 If you looked at his face closely enough you could see the babyish look of the pale blue eyes and the rounded facial features； but you had to look quick because Cubby had learned that the best way to avoid having to be tough is to look tough。 Cubby had the tough look down cold。 He'd stare at you glassy eyed and not blink or flinch no matter what you did； and then he would talk slowly； and simply； with a lot of menace in his voice but no cursing。 It was pretty effective。 John didn't know anyone else who could act that tough without swearing their brains out。
Cubby popped down from the roof and tossed the gripper toward the back。
〃Hit it； Ripman。〃
After Ripman swung out of the parking lot； he and John looked back at the sign； which had started with：
TODAY'S SPECIAL
BURRITO； TOSTATA
OR TWO TACOS AND LARGE COKE
1。99
Now it read：
TACOS TASTE LIKE BUTS SMELL
Cubby had to invert the w to get the m and used the 1 from 1。99 for one of the ls but there was no rule against it and it could earn you extra points。 It was the best anagram of the night； and Ripman was cracking up。
〃Elemental。 I love it。 El…ahh…men…tahl。〃
Elemental was Ripman's favorite superlative。 He used it for everything that pleased him。 When John and Cubby first heard him use it they thought he meant elementary； like the word Sherlock Holmes was always using to insult Dr。 Watson。 Ripman was clear though； it was elemental； and it meant the simple and basic things…the things that life was really all about。 And to Ripman that meant things that didn't depend on other things。 That was Ripman's dream。 To live a life that didn't depend on other people； on things； or on society。
Ripman was a self…proclaimed woodsman； but you didn't call him a survivalist to his face。 Survivalists weren't elemental enough for Ripman。 To Ripman the chink in the survivalists' armor was their dependence on technology： freeze…dried food； water recycling systems； solar…powered stills； and automatic weapons。 To Ripman； an elemental person was someone who needed only a knife to survive； not an Uzi。
〃Elemental！〃 Ripman exclaimed again。 〃Cubby； once again you stumbled uncontrollably into a winner。〃 To John he chortled； 〃Get your wallet out； it's pie time。〃
Eager to get back； John was just glad the game was over。 At the 7…Eleven they all piled out and went in to select their pies。 Cubby picked apple； as always。 John picked a berry pie and Ripman the lemon。 Cubby was reading the front page of the National Enquirer when John and Ripman headed out the front door；
〃Jeez； John； why do you buy those things？〃 Ripman asked。
〃What things？〃
〃Those berry pies。 I mean it doesn't even say what kind of berries are in it。 For all you know they could be dingleberries。〃
John was going to tell Ripman to cram it when he noticed a car pulling in next to Cubby's van。 It was a jacked…up 1969 Chevy Camaro painted primer gray； and it looked like it would always be a fixer…upper。 There were two too…large Pioneer speakers wedged into the back window； blasting out some indistinguishable hard rock sound。 Now three guys who were looking for trouble climbed out。 The driver； the smallest of the three； was a little shorter than John at five foot eight but had huge shoulders and arms。 His head was huge too； and his large lopsided mouth was shaped permanently into a wise…guy grin。 He looked like a dwarf that had been inflated to normal size。 All three guys wore faded Levi's and jean jackets； and their hair was shaved close on the sides。 The biggest one was about six feet tall and hung back a little from the other two。 He was unmonly ugly and wore his hair down so that it covered half his pimply face。 When the driver stepp
