Spencerville

Reverend Schenk. I’m only telling you this in case you thought about going to Pastor Schenk for advice or absolution, or something.”
    “I… I have discussed my marriage with him.” She hesitated, then said, “To be honest, I spoke to him about you.”
    “Did you? Did you tell him you had sexual fantasies about me?”
    “Certainly not.” She laughed. “Not in so many words.”
    “Well, if you speak to him again, he’ll tell you what Wilkes told me—get a divorce and, meantime, do not commit adultery.”
    “A little late for that.”
    “Also, these things do get around.”
    She nodded. “I’m friends with Pastor Schenk’s wife, Marge… what else did Pastor Wilkes tell you?”
    “I can’t say, but with all good intentions, they know too much.”
    “I’ll be careful.” She looked at him and said, “One week from today, Keith.”
    “One week from today.”
    She sat down on the ground and untangled her panty hose. “Can you dry me off?”
    He knelt beside her and dried her feet with his shirttail and helped her put her panty hose and shoes on. He said, “Where’re your underwear?”
    “Lost ’em.” She put out her hand, and he pulled her up. She said, “Good Lord, look at me… I’m covered with leaves, my clothes are dirty…” She laughed. “Looks like I just had sex in the woods.” She brushed herself off and smiled. “Do you think I should go home before I go grocery shopping? Hello, Mrs. Smith, yes I
did
have sex in the woods, as a matter of fact. A tall stranger on horseback. How are the carrots today?”
    Keith smiled. “You’re having fun, aren’t you?”
    “Yes. And I know what you’re thinking—what’s it going to be like when there’s no more danger and excitement of illicit sex. Well, this
is
fun, but I’m frightened, truly frightened. I just want to be safe, with you, and twenty years from now, when you walk into the room, my heart will still skip a beat.”
    “I believe that.”
    “You should, or you’re doing the wrong thing. I’m leaving here no matter what, Keith, and I’d like your help. But you don’t have to make any promises. Get me out of here, then you can do what you want. I mean that.”
    “No, you don’t…” He looked at her. “Well… maybe you do. But that’s not the program. This is real simple—I came back to be with you.”
    “What if I was three hundred pounds?”
    “I would have walked past you on the sidewalk, if I could get around you. Stop giving me a hard time.”
    “Did anyone write to you about me?”
    “Yes, a few people. My mother especially. She kept track of your weight.”
    “She’s been gone five years.”
    “Is this a test?”
    “No, just things I promised myself I’d say to you.”
    “Is that it?”
    “That’s it. You’re hooked. Do you have a plan?”
    “No, but the simpler, the better. What’s he usually do on Saturdays?”
    “Saturday is good. He always spends Saturdays with his friends, either at the lodge on Grey Lake, or Lake Michigan, or Lake Erie. They boat, they fish, they shoot in season. Bird season just started.”
    “What if it rains?”
    “They go anyway. They usually play cards someplace—most of them have places in Michigan.”
    “Okay. Just pack the bare essentials, and we’ll meet someplace. I’ll drive us to Toledo Airport, and we’re gone.”
    “All right… I’ll go to my sister Terry’s house. Any Spencerville police cars in Chatham County don’t belong there, and they’ll be easy to spot.”
    “Good plan.”
    “Do you mind meeting me at my sister’s house?”
    “No. We used to get along. I’d like to see her again and thank her for forwarding twenty years of mail to you. I sent her a card every Christmas.”
    “I know. You’re sweet, and she likes you. She used to cover for me in high school when you and I were where we weren’t supposed to be.”
    “I remember.” He thought a moment, then asked, “Will she be all right with this?”
    “She hates Cliff. No, she
despises
Cliff. So does her husband.” Annie added, “Obviously, she knows we weren’t sending recipes for twenty years.”
    “You two never discussed this strange correspondence?”
    “Of course not. Well, maybe once in a while.” Annie smiled. “God, every time a letter came from you, she’d get excited and phone me right away. We had a code, just in case. She’d say, ‘I just got a mail-order catalog I’d like you to see.’ Then we’d arrange to meet at her place, or in