Thieves

2. Automobile

2

Automobile

Rex never had much use for the law. It existed, in Rex’s view, only to impede his ability to make a living. So it was not surprising that he did not call 911 when he found his wife dead on their bed.

He reasoned thus:

She’s already dead. There’s nothing the police or paramedics can do. Therefore, there is no reason to call them.

He also didn’t call because he had Morris and would not be able to adequately explain a baby’s presence in the house, especially since Rex and Stella had been childless until just a couple of hours ago. Rex could see the scenario unfold in his mind: Morris would be discovered and his connection to the woman whose child was stolen from the carriage would be made. Morris and Rex would be separated and Rex would most likely be in big trouble owing to the acute displeasure that law enforcement authorities generally displayed whenever the topic of kidnapping came up.

In for a penny, in for a dollar. Or something like that. He couldn’t give Morris back now. And he couldn’t just leave him somewhere. That would be completely unsafe and unfair to Morris.

Rex observed a moment of silence over Stella’s still form. If she had only waited a few more hours, she would have been okay. But there was no time to dwell on that. Rex filed that fact in the back of his brain, to remind himself that it was never too early to try to fix a problem.

He reached under the mattress where he and Stella had stashed away some money for a rainy day. He pulled the wad out, counted it quickly, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he retrieved Morris from the other room and went back outside. He remembered a couple down the street at the end of the block who had a child not too long ago.

They had a nice car and Rex could use a nice car right about now. He adjusted his son in his arms. Morris had cried himself out, for the most part, still mewling but not wailing terribly loud.

Rex walked down the block to the house with the new child. He saw the car parked in the road. Good. That would make it easier than if it was in the driveway. He looked at the house. Flickers came through the front window. They must be watching television. Also good. He saw the doors to the car were unlocked. Even better. He opened the back door and put Morris into the baby car seat that was already buckled into place. Morris seemed to like the seat. He grabbed at the straps.

“Good,” said Rex quietly. “Keep yourself occupied for just a minute.”

Rex went around to the driver’s door and got in behind the wheel. He closed the door slowly so it wouldn’t slam. He had learned to jump-start cars when he was just a kid. He would hot wire them and take them on joy rides. He never damaged a single car, and usually left them in a safe place where they could be easily retrieved by the owner.

Now he pulled out a tool from his pocket and used it to yank out the assembly by the steering wheel where the key went in. He reached inside and touched some wires together. The car started. He put it into drive and eased away from the curb.

The car was so quiet that he doubted the owners heard anything. When he was far enough away from the house that he thought it would be safe, he turned on the headlights and pressed on the accelerator to speed away.

The car had almost a full tank of gas. Rex saw this as a good sign, since he knew he had to get away and the less contact he had with anyone else the better it would be for him. He decided to drive south, away from the Northwest to a sunnier climate. He wanted to find some place little Morris could be warm. It was important for a baby to be warm. Rex was sure of it. He also knew it was important for a baby to eat. What did children his age eat? That woman on the bus said something about a bottle. That meant Rex needed to get a bottle and some formula.

He passed a drugstore and pulled into the parking lot. It was a risk, but Morris needed supplies. He needed to be taken care of in a proper fashion. Rex thought that if he was good to Morris now, then Morris would take care of Rex in his old age. Rex liked that idea. It fit in with his picture of the world. Everything was a deal, and if you held up your part of the deal, then the other person should do the same. It was only right, and without such bargains life would not be as good as it could be.

He found a parking spot near the front of the store and eased into it. He sat at the wheel and wondered if he should abandon this car and steal another one right away. Normally, if he was on the run like this, he would do so, but having Morris along complicated matters. He decided the next vehicle could wait, at least for a while. He got out of the car, left Morris on his own, and went into the store. A clerk asked him if he wanted some help. He looked away and mumbled “no.”

He pulled a shopping cart from the front of the store and pushed it down the aisles of merchandise and found the section with all the baby stuff.

Immediately he was overwhelmed by the choices. First there were the baby bottles. So many designs. He picked one more or less at random after examining a few brands, and put it in the cart. But then an enormous variety of formulas confronted him. He had no idea how to choose, so he picked a few without delving into their relative merits and shortcomings.

He wondered if Morris was old enough for solid food. Just in case, he grabbed a couple of dozen jars of baby food from the shelf. Then he plucked some packages of diapers and went to the front to pay. While he waited in line he noticed a display of books. One of them was a paperback that told new parents how to care for their children.

Rex picked it up and examined some of the pages. It looked like it had good information, plus, it also had pictures: diagrams of procedures like changing diapers and techniques like how to hold a baby while feeding him. Rex tossed the book in with the other items.

He looked, he thought, completely normal, standing in line waiting to pay for his items, and yet, inside, he was consumed with despair. To pay for these things was hard. It was not his way to pay for anything if he could help it. If he did not have Morris with him he would have found a way to steal all of this stuff. But then, he told himself, if he did not have Morris, he would not need any of this stuff.

The thought sobered him immeasurably. He felt the blinding burden of caring for another human being, someone who could not fend for himself in any way. How did any person ever grow up, so completely dependent on the kindness of others, even parents who loved them? It seemed, at that moment, an impossibility.

And yet, people walked around every day who were once defenseless babies. It was a wonder, no doubt about it.

Let me pause here and say that though I understand Rex and am trying to present him as truthfully as I can, you should not therefore believe that I approve of his actions or his motives. It is much more complex than that. He should never have stolen Morris from his rightful mother, of course not. And yet, he clearly exhibited care and concern for the child and for others. He stole Morris to make his wife happy. It was not his fault that Stella was completely beyond help. How could he have known that?

You could argue that since Stella was gone, a truly selfless person would return Morris to his birth mother and take the consequences. Such is the course of action I would have counseled Rex to take. However, Rex did not know of me at that point in his life, and so that option was not open to him. Also, it is not likely that he would have followed my advice anyway. In case I have not made it clear: Rex did things in his own way.

Rex paid for the supplies and returned to his stolen car and got back on the road. He traveled for a couple of hours until he was far south of town. He stayed off the interstate and took some of the less traveled side roads instead. By this time Morris was asleep. Rex loved the sound of his son’s sleep-breathing. It made him think of Stella, when she was happy and would sigh and tell Rex how much she loved him. That was such a long time ago.

Rex wondered when she would be discovered. It might take a while. They had no friends and no one ever came to visit. He thought maybe it was wrong of him to leave her there like that. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t have stayed. Not with Morris.

It was after eight o’clock when he saw a motel that looked secluded enough for his purposes. He stopped there and took a room, which he paid for in cash. It broke his heart to hand over the bills, and he made a mental note to steal a credit card as soon as it was feasible for him to do so. He had left some credit cards at home, but they were so old now, having come into his possession several days ago, that they were useless. People reported stolen credit cards quickly. They usually had a useful life of only a few hours.

He brought Morris into the room and put him down on the bed. He needed changing. He also needed feeding, but Rex supposed the smelly diaper was a higher priority, so he tore open a package of diapers and opened the book he had bought at the drugstore and followed the instructions on changing his son’s diapers.

It went pretty smoothly, all things considered. When he was finished, Rex noted that the diaper did not look quite as snug as the original one had, but he guessed that he would get better at it as he practiced more.

Food next. He opened the book to the section on feeding and absorbed the rudiments of bottle feeding quickly. He heated the formula in the room’s microwave oven, even sterilized the bottle by dipping it in water he boiled in the microwave. Then he propped Morris in his arm and put the bottle next to his mouth. Right against his cheek, just like the book suggested. Morris recognized the sensation immediately and turned his head and began sucking on the bottle.

He looked up at Rex as he took in the formula milk. Rex locked eyes with Morris. So amazing that such a tiny thing could have such a big effect on his life. But then, thought Rex, how could it be otherwise? It couldn’t.

Morris consumed the entire contents of the bottle. Then Rex burped him, as the book recommended, and then he put him down on the bed to sleep.

It was a wonder to Rex that Morris did sleep, but he did. Rex realized he himself was hungry, too, but more than that, he was tired. So tired he did not want to get up to go find himself something to eat. He laid down next to Morris and fell asleep.

He felt like he had been asleep for some hours when he was awakened by Morris’s cries.

Why did Morris cry all the time? It was unnerving, his wailing. And Rex was sure it would wake up others in the motel, perhaps even bring out the manager. More complications that Rex did not want and had no time for.

Babies cried. He remembered that from the book. It was his task to discover why Morris cried and then try to find a way to help him to not cry.

Rex made more formula and offered it to Morris, who gladly ate it. Food. It was always about sustenance. Give someone support and they are happy. Not so mysterious, but it was still a surprise to Rex, as though Morris had taught him a secret of the universe.

They both returned to sleep until around 3:30 in the morning when Morris began crying again. Rex had some formula left over but Morris didn’t want it. Rex held Morris in his arms and walked around the little motel room with him, rocking him back and forth, soothing him until his cries subsided. Morris returned to sleep, but Rex could not. He lay on the bed, Morris breathing beside him, but slumber eluded him. He thought it was just as well. They should be getting up and moving on anyway since they needed to keep distance between them and the authorities. But Morris was asleep. Rex did not want to disturb that tranquil and fortunate circumstance.

Rex lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. A dim light from the parking lot drifted in through the curtains. If Rex had been prone to such thoughts, he might have considered that this was a perfect moment, the solitude of the night combined with the proximity of his son. The two of them together and safe, for the moment.

But Rex was made of much more rational stuff. He didn’t need the wonder of the joy of life to keep him going. All he required was the realization that his son depended on him to be strong.

So Rex got out of bed and roused his son from his slumber. He went out to the car and buckled Morris into his seat. Then he started up the car and headed down the highway again.

He knew the authorities would be looking for Morris and for the car Rex was driving, but it was unlikely they would be looking for these two things together, since he had left no evidence that would associate one with the other. Of the two thefts, Morris would be considered the more pressing since his disappearance involved a life. And a young life at that. Rex had noticed that the younger the person involved, the more likely it was that people would be upset about anything happening to that person.

Rex looked in the rear view mirror where he saw Morris reach for a small toy that had been hung from a bar over the seat. Rex watched Morris’s spastic attempts to grasp the toy. He smiled. Here was his son’s first attempt at theft. It warmed his heart to see Morris go for what he wanted, however trivial.

“That toy today,” he said. “The world tomorrow.”

Rex had read in the book that having a child was the most profound experience any human being could have. Rex believed it. Who would have thought that he would see so much meaning in the gesture of a child before today? But before today he was not a father himself.

Within a couple of hours Rex reached the coast highway, state route 101, and headed south. He had traveled this road before and liked to be near the ocean. He watched the sky lighten as he sped by beaches. The water, sand, and rocks caught the subtle milky light, which drew out and softened their features to a fuzzy non-focus. The water gave Rex an idea. He needed to baptize his son. Why not do it now?

He turned off at a state park, a small one that was little more than a beach fringed with grass and furnished with a couple of picnic tables. No other cars were in the parking lot. It was too early and it was too cold. That didn’t matter to Rex.

He lifted Morris out of the car and cradled him to his chest. Such warmth in something so small. Morris stepped away from the car and entered a narrow path down a slight slope to the beach. Shadows clung to his feet as he walked. He wasn’t sure of his footing, but he assumed it would be okay since this was a maintained path. He thought there wouldn’t be too many rocks or roots anywhere and he was right. He made it down to the sand safely and walked to the water.

The waves came up the beach and lapped at his feet. He didn’t step back. He welcomed the pull of the waves. He respected the ocean for its power, its need to steal him away from land and make him part of the sea again. Didn’t everything come from the sea once? Rex was pretty sure it did. He thought he heard that once. Life started in the sea. That’s why people should be baptized. It made the water part of them again.

The waves came in rhythmic pulses. They rose up to Rex’s ankles. They made his feet feel as cold as ice.

He wondered if it was high tide or low. It wasn’t possible to tell for sure in the dim light.

Rex waded in further until he was knee-deep. By now his legs were so cold he thought they might freeze off. Maybe they already had. He could barely feel his own feet.

Morris’s eyes were wide open. They took in the sky and Rex’s face. Rex saw stars reflected in his son’s eyes. He bent down slightly and touched his index finger to the sea. He brought his finger up and placed it on his son’s forehead and down his nose.

Rex knew from watching movies and television that people had the sign of the cross put on their forehead when they were baptized. He also knew that this was a sign of Christianity, of the death of the savior that Christians believed in. But Rex was not a Christian and so he did not make the cross on his son’s forehead. Instead he ran a line of seawater from the spot between his eyes, over his nose, and into his mouth.

Rex felt Morris’s mouth suck at his finger.

“That’s the ocean,” he whispered to Morris. “That’s life, right there. I name you Morris in honor of the sea.”

Morris said nothing.

Rex held him over the waves for several more seconds, then took him back to the car just as sunlight came peaking over the eastern horizon, painting the ocean with dabs of gold, stealing away the night, and tinting the sky and clouds an impossible shade of purple.