“What do you mean what now? You were the one that took us out here to this backwoods road because you couldn’t stand the thought of staying in a hotel. You said you could drive in this shit! And you were the one that picked up that psycho!” Her voice steadily gained volume. “So you ask us what now? Your fucking girlfriend is missing her fucking tongue and you ask us what now?”
Jason put his hand on her knee. “C’mon babe,” he said quietly.
“C’mon?” She turned her steely eyes to him. “I didn’t even want to come here! Worst snowstorm in the history of the world, they said, and you said, waa waa waa, eight hundred dollars. Do you understand what’s happening here?” She paused, looked from Jason to Frank and back again. “Her fucking tongue’s been chopped off! Chopped! Off!”
And what more was there to say?
The four of them sat in silence for a few moments. The heater still blew warm air into their faces. Lucy began to sob quietly again. Fresh blood continued to run from her mouth.
Finally Frank said, “Okay, I’ll go on foot.” Before anyone else could say anything, he continued. “Look, we were driving out here for, what, 45 minutes? At about 15 miles an hour? That means we can’t be more than 10 miles or so from where we turned off the highway. I’ll head back the way we came, back up to the Route 7 junction. We know there are cops up there already. And we’ve got…” He glanced at the instrument panel. “…just over a half tank of gas right now. That’ll keep you guys warm for the rest of the night if you’re just idling here. And how long will it take me to walk ten miles? Maybe three hours in this snow?”
“But that guy is still out there,” Valerie said. “Somewhere. What if he comes back? We’re just sitting ducks out here.”
“Then what do you want me to do?” Frank shot back quickly. His voice was hard, abrasive. He stared at Valerie with wide eyes. “If you’ve got a better plan, I’m all ears.”
They waited.
Valerie shifted her gaze to her lap. No one spoke.
“All right then,” Frank said. “I’m walking.”
This time Valerie didn’t object.
“Do you have the clothes for it?” Jason asked. “It’s bitter cold out there. You better be bundled up.”
“There’s some extra stuff in the back, there.” Frank pointed. “A ski mask, scarf and gloves. I’ll be fine. As long as I keep walking I’ll stay warm enough.” He paused for a few seconds. “But I need to take care of Lucy first.”
He looked at Lucy with despair. He didn’t seem to want to make eye contact with her. “Listen,” he started, then faltered. He tried again. “Sugar…”
He looked to Jason for help, but Jason didn’t know what to say and only looked at his own hands resting in his lap.
“Lucy, I need to stop that bleeding,” Frank began again. “You’re losing a lot of blood. If it keeps up, you’re going to pass out, or worse.”
Jason knew what the “or worse” was. Frank obviously didn’t want to say it out loud.
“There’s no way we can get to a hospital fast enough, now,” Frank continued.
Lucy whimpered.
“We have to cauterize the wound,” Frank said. “It’s going to hurt. But we have to.”
Finally he looked up and met Lucy’s gaze. They stared at each other for a moment or two and then Lucy gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Okay,” Frank said. He looked around quickly through the windows of the Acura. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he opened the driver’s door and jumped out. He bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, packed it into a quick snowball, then jumped back in the vehicle. “Put this in your mouth until it melts. We’ll do that a few times. Hopefully it’ll slow the bleeding, and also numb the wound.”
Lucy took the snowball, broke off a chunk, and gingerly pushed it into her mouth. After just a few seconds she did the same with a second piece. The snowball itself was melting rapidly in the warmth of the car, and Frank jumped out and got another one.
No one spoke while Lucy continued to put more and more snow into her mouth. The blood that had been running down her chin turned a lighter red, almost pink, as it mixed with the melted snow. Lucy wasn’t swallowing and made no attempt to prevent the watery blood from getting all over herself. Jason assumed she was in shock, at least to a certain extent.
After Lucy had melted four snowballs in her mouth, Frank turned off the Acura and took the keys from the ignition. A metallic, novelty license plate hung from the key-ring and he removed it with fingers that appeared to be trembling just a little. Jason thought maybe it was the cold causing that tremble, but he doubted it. He could see the license plate had Frank’s name on it.
After he started the car again, Frank pulled a pair of black ski gloves from the center console of the vehicle. He put on the left glove and held the novelty license plate in that hand.
“One more snowball,” he said, opening his door again.
When Lucy had her fifth snowball in her hands, Frank reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a cigarette lighter. Jason didn’t think his brother smoked, so he couldn’t help but wonder why the man carried a lighter with him. Those thoughts were dashed, though, as Frank turned the thumbwheel and an inch-high flame appeared. He held it under the little, metal license plate. His face was stony, concentrating.
Lucy sucked on the snow, chunk after chunk. Frank patiently held the flame of the lighter under the little rectangular piece of metal he held in his gloved left hand. Jason was pretty sure he knew what was about to happen and it made his stomach turn.
When the snowball was almost gone, Frank said, “Lucy, I’m going to need you to stick out your tongue.” He didn’t look at her. He just continued to stare at the flame in his hand. “And I need you to know that I’m doing this to help you. I don’t like it, but I can’t think of any other way.” His voice was shaky. Jason wondered if he was on the verge of tears.
Lucy nodded her head slowly.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Frank said.
Lucy took a deep breath. Held it. Let it out. She took another one. Then she opened her mouth and stuck out what remained of her tongue. It was just a little pulpy nub, still oozing blood.
Frank let the lighter fall to his lap. He quickly palmed the little license plate in his gloved hand, and placed the other hand on the back of Lucy’s head. He brought the two together.
When the severed edge of her tongue met the hot metal of the novelty keychain, Jason thought he would be sick. Lucy cried out in an inarticulate roar, but Frank didn’t let her pull away. Underneath that roar, Jason could swear he heard a sizzle; the sizzle a raw burger makes when it’s first thrown on a barbeque grill.
When the scent of cooking meat reached his nose, Jason threw the door open and retched into the snow beside the car.
Lucy was using her fists to ineffectually push against Frank, that throaty roar still emanating around the burning, severed tongue. It really only lasted a few seconds before Frank let go of Lucy’s head. She slammed back into the passenger seat, her head rocking off the headrest. By the time Jason had closed and locked his door again, she was no longer screaming.
Jason could see tears running down her cheeks, but she was silent. She didn’t look at Frank. Her face was a blank mask of determined detachment and blood.
After only a few more moments of silence Frank said, “I have to get going.” His voice was soft now. “The sooner I start out, the sooner I’ll be back. And the sooner we’ll all be home again with a cold beer, am I right?” No one responded. Frank stared at Lucy for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, sugar. I know that was awful. But you’ll be okay now. You won’t bleed out. And when we get you to a hospital, they’ll be able to fix you up, good as new.”
Jason seriously doubted that was true.
Frank turned to face the backseat. “Grab me those clothes,” he said. “They should be behind you.”
Jason turned and rummaged around behind the backseat until he found the things Frank had mentioned earli
er. He passed them forward and Frank put on the scarf and gloves. He leaned over and kissed Lucy on the cheek. The blood on her face was drying now. Only a little of it stuck to Frank’s chin.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said. “You’re going to be fine.” He turned and faced Jason. “Take care of them, big brother.”
Then he was out the door. Lucy’s detached gaze broke and the three of them watched through the rear window as Frank walked away. The snow and the darkness swallowed him up after only a minute or two, but they all continued to stare as if maybe their combined concentration would make him visible again. Finally Valerie sighed, breaking the moment. They faced forward again.
“Make sure those doors are locked,” Jason said.
Lucy leaned across the front seat and hit the switch on the driver’s armrest that locked the doors.
Then they waited. It seemed like they’d been doing altogether too much waiting lately.
No one spoke. Jason wished they could listen to some music, and he considered his iPod or the car stereo, but knew it was a bad idea. If there was something he needed to hear, music would hide it. He tried not to think about what it might be that he would need to hear.
Time ticked by slowly. Snow continued to fall. Jason wondered what they would do if more than three or four hours passed and there was no sign of Frank. Maybe if they waited until dawn, a plow would come by. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
It had been about an