Honeymoon for Three

concerning one worry that had been bugging him. Apparently they weren’t going to get married tonight.
    He passed a sign announcing that they had climbed to over 7,000 feet. Mountainous terrain. He hadn’t been this high since he had driven over the Continental Divide on his cross-country trip.
    Following them in the dark and the hills and the curves was a much harder proposition than following them during daylight. During the day, when they had stopped to eat or get gas, he had stopped farther on, duplicating their activities, and watched for them from the window of one of the many mom-and-pop diners. He had gotten into a rhythm, sometimes driving behind them, sometimes ahead of them, but always knowing exactly where they were.
    Now he had to stay much closer to them to make sure he was behind the correct set of taillights. The traffic was sparse, but another danger was that they would turn off and he would miss their turn because they were out of sight around a curve. He might sail right on by them. This closeness made the chances of them becoming suspicious of him much greater than it had been.
    Alfred was right behind the VW when it turned left onto Route 50, trusting in the darkness to keep them from noticing his car. He dropped back a few yards and caught glimpses of Lake Tahoe on the right by the light of the moon. They drove through the resort city of South Lake Tahoe, mixing with enough other traffic to keep him on high alert.
    The VW suddenly turned into what looked like a driveway. Alfred couldn’t afford to take this turn, but he strained to read a sign as he drove by. El Dorado Campground. He drove on around a curve, parked, and used the car’s interior light to read his watch. It was almost ten o’clock. It had been a long day. He was having a hard time staying awake.
    As he waited five minutes to make sure they had checked in and driven away from the entrance, Alfred put his hand under his shirt and felt his bellybutton. His outie bellybutton. If it had been an innie, his life might have turned out differently. He might have been the person in the car with Penny. He might be sleeping with her tonight. He might be….
    Rage expanded inside him, like steam from a teakettle. His body vibrated. Life was unfair. He became wide awake. He started the car and made a U-turn. The Ford had a wide turning radius, and he didn’t judge the distance correctly. He had to back up to complete the turn. When he was in reverse, a car came around the curve, traveling fast. Alfred didn’t have time to do anything. He watched, mesmerized, as the headlights seemed to drill right into him, but the car swerved at the last second as it roared by, its horn blaring.
    Now his shaking was from terror. He pressed the gas pedal, forgetting that his car was still in reverse. It flew backwards into the bushes alongside the road, narrowly missing a tree. He braked belatedly and finally got it into drive. The wheels spun for seconds. Then he surged forward with a squeal of tires, almost going off the road on the other side before he got the car under control.
    He turned into the campground and stopped beside the office. He had to sit for several minutes until his bodily functions returned to a semblance of normalcy. He got out of the car. The first thing that registered was how cold the night air felt. It penetrated his sweatshirt and khaki pants. He was wearing all the clothes he had brought. He quickly entered the office to get warm.
    ***
    When Alfred entered one of the campground restrooms, he remembered how poorly equipped he was. Not only was he underdressed, he also didn’t have a toothbrush or toothpaste. He hadn’t brushed his teeth for over thirty-six hours. He had to settle for rinsing his mouth out with water he sucked from a faucet by sticking his head into a sink and tilting his mouth up. He tried to remove the scum that coated his teeth with his tongue. He could imagine what his breath smelled like.
    He didn’t have any shaving equipment either. Of course he was wearing a beard, but he was thinking that it might be better if he shaved it off. He had been in close proximity to Penny during those Sunday mornings in the café. If she saw him, she might recognize him by his beard.
    He could sleep in his car, lying across the bench seat. That wasn’t comfortable, as he knew from his experience last night, but the worst part was that he didn’t have any blankets. He would freeze his ass off. He couldn’t handle that