One Door From Heaven

pursuit of him. He fades into the darkness and the eerie fluorescence until he appears to be the mere mirage of a man.
        How strange. The entire encounter with Gabby will require a lot of thoughtful analysis later, when Curtis has outlasted his enemies and can afford the leisure for contemplation.
        When he has outlasted them, not if. Now that the obligation to socialize has been lilted from him for a while, Curtis feels his confidence returning.
        A few miles to the north, where hard-bitten gunfighters once faced off in the.dusty street, a fierier and noisier confrontation is still underway, and while it doesn't look like Armageddon or the War of the Worlds, the level of combat remains impressive. Curtis expected the conflict to be over long ago; and he doesn't anticipate that these mismatched forces will be dueling much longer.
        Besides, sooner rather than later, they may begin to suspect that the boy over whom they're battling has slipped out of town during the uproar and is riding the range once more. Then the two armies will disengage, rather than fight to the finish, and both the scalawags and the worse scalawags will return to the urgent boy-dog search that brought them into the same town at the same time in the first place.
        Better move.
        Leaving the pistol on the ground now that there's no need to worry about Gabby getting possession of it, Curtis climbs into the Mountaineer once more. He has never driven a vehicle like this. But the principles of its operation are obvious, and he's sure that he can handle it reasonably well, though most likely not with the skill of Steve McQueen in Bullitt or with the aplomb of Burt Reynolds in Smokey and the Bandit.
        He is about to move from petty crimes to the commission of a major felony. Car theft. That's how the authorities will view it.
        From his perspective, however, it's actually the unauthorized borrowing of a vehicle, because he has no intention of keeping the Mountaineer. If eventually he abandons it in as good a condition as he found it, his moral obligation will largely consist of making an apology to Gabby and compensating him for gasoline, time, and inconvenience. Because he doesn't relish coming face-to-face with the caretaker again, he hopes that his soul won't be tarnished too much if he makes both the apology and the payment by mail.
        Height proves to be a problem. Curtis Hammond, a bit on the shorter side for a ten-year-old boy, can command a clear view of the terrain ahead or exercise full and easy control of the brakes and the accelerator, but not both at the same time. By slouching a little and stretching his right loot as might a leaping ballet dancer reaching for an on-point landing, he's able to proceed with a half-obstructed view and with compromised pedal control.
        This slows him, however, and establishes a pace that seems more suitable to a funeral procession than to a run for freedom.
        While he wants to put as much territory as possible between himself and his pursuers, he must remember that time, not distance, is his primary ally. Only by faithfully being Curtis Hammond hour after hour, day after day, is he likely to escape detection forever. Certain adjustments would allow him to handle the Mountaineer more easily, but if he were to indulge in them, he'd be more visible to his enemies the next time they came scanning in his vicinity. Which will be soon.
        Mom's wisdom. The longer that you wear a disguise, the more completely you become the disguise. To maintain a credible deception, a fugitive must never slip out of character, not even for a moment. Establishing a new identity isn't merely a matter of acquiring a convincing set of ID documents; you aren't safe from discovery just because you look, talk, walk, and act in character. Establishing a new identity with total success requires you to become this new person with your every fiber, every cell-and for every minute of the day, when observed and unobserved.
        Even in death, Mom remains the ultimate authority on this stuff, as well as a universal symbol of courage and freedom. She will be honored long after her passing. Even if she hadn't been his mom, he would conduct himself according to her advice; but as her son, he has a special obligation not just to survive but also to live by her teachings and eventually to pass them along to others.
        Grief comes to him once more, and for a