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And this is how Kirk Bogarde became a star。
They found Hal's cruiser three quarters of a mile in： parked neatly on what passed for the right shoulder of the narrow road； just as he'd left it。 Mike pulled up ten yards back and parked on the left bank。 They piled out。
〃Guess we'll have to walk it；〃 Kirk said； gesturing to the tree。 〃Better get a few inches of the car。〃
Mike nodded and popped a battery into the camera。 It was a pro deck； maybe a hundred times more plicated than a consumer…type camcorder。 Mike routinely set levels ahead of time； so that on arrival he just had to pop in a battery and he was ready to rock。 He focused on the empty cruiser； did a slow pan up and over to the tangled mass of uprooted flora； and stopped at Kirk。
〃Okay；〃 Kirk said。 〃How 'bout a nice pickup shot of me walking by the downed tree； looking pensive？〃
〃Soul of a poet；〃 Mike said； utterly deadpan。
Kirk nodded； got himself revved to Geraldo speed。 〃Toxic Waste；〃 he intoned。 〃The Everpresent Menace 。。。 no。〃 Catching himself。 〃Too wordy。 Fuck。〃
Mike took a position in the road； focusing as Kirk improvised。
〃Toxic Waste： Legacy of Death 。。。 〃
It was then that they heard the engine cranking。
Hrrrnnn nnn nnn nnn； it groaned； filtering through the dead； bare trees。 The choked metallic grunt of an ignition firing。 Hrrrnnn nnn nnn nnn nnn nnn。
〃What the fuck 。。。 ？〃 Kirk whispered； staring at the stormfall blocking the road。 Hrrnnn nnn nnn nnn 。。。
And then； in the distance； the engine chugged to life： exhaust blatting as an unknown foot fed fuel to carb； coaxing bustion。
〃Someone's ing；〃 Mike said。
Somewhere around the bend； a heavy vehicle chugged and heaved onto the road。 ing closer。 Heading their way。
〃Get ready；〃 Kirk hissed。 〃This might be good。〃
Mike shrugged and took a position just behind the bumper of the van。 It was kinda weird； but what the hey。 Kirk hung back and ran through his schmooz options； readying himself for whatever came down the pike。
Then the roar came closer； and the real weirdness started。
The truck was whining and grinding through the gearbox； picking up RPMs at any expense。 The way it was burning down the trail； Kirk noted； they had a minute at best to prepare。 And it gave no indication of slowing down。
Heading right for Nature's little roadblock 。。。
Jesus。 The realization was sudden； startling and sure。 They're gonna run it。 〃ROLL TAPE！〃 he screamed。 〃They're going right fucking through！〃
〃Way ahead of you； dude；〃 Mike said； grinning。 He sighted the road for optimum coverage。 Hit the record button。
And history was made。
First； a study in glaring contrast： the six…ton kamikaze whine of pissed…off steel against an ominously still backdrop of trees and mud。 Pan and zoom on the thick mass of limbs skewed across the road； moving in as the roar and the grind grow closer。
Passing blip of Kirk Bogarde； mouthing are you getting this？ Looking genuinely nervous now； as though this is maybe just a little bit realer than he likes his coverage and he doesn't even know it yet。
The whine peaks。 Rack in and focus。
Then jerk back； as the truck explodes through the branches； letting off a shrapnel shockwave hailstorm of splinters that soar in every direction。
Try to track as the blasted Dodge with the busted…out windshield and a shadow at the wheel bounces and hits the ground running； rocks and slides and never gives an inch as it hits the cop cruiser； spinning it a neat two hundred and seventy degrees to smash into the embankment； sending Kirk diving for cover as it hurtles past； jangling in and out of frame but always ing right at the camera。
Scream in exhilaration as the truck bears down mercilessly； knowing that this is the footage of a lifetime； living for the spectacle captured in the camera's eye。
Then scream again； for entirely different reasons。
As the truck devours the frame。
The last thing Kirk remembered clearly was the front grille； enormous； bearing down on him。 He dove and rolled badly； ate a faceful of mud； and came up in a puddle； barely conscious。 There was wind and noise and adrenaline and the scattered impressionist jumblefuck memory of Mike： standing ass…out in the wind； cowboy style； nailing the shot like today was a dream and there was no tomorrow。
Then the truck rolled over him。
And the dream went away 。。。
Silence。
Kirk opened his eyes。
The sky above was brackish； overcast。 He ached as if he'd sprained every moving part in his body。 Gilt…backed dark clouds taunted； egging him on。
He'd been out for a few minutes。 Time enough to change lives。
And to end them。
〃Mike。〃 Memory； snapping back like a wet towel to smack him in the ass。 〃Oh God； Mike 。。。 〃 Piecing together the dream。 He got up； felt his stomach lurch with the one…eighty spin of his head； and then turned。 Scrambling over to his cameraman friend。 Or what was left of him。
Kirk had never been good with words； a fact that had steered him away from print journalism and the press。 Smushed was the word that came screaming to mind。 Unprofessional； but accurate。 Mike was smushed。
He lay embedded in a deep mud truck…nit； the knobby tire pattern running lengthwise over his body and right over his face。 The truck weighed several angry tons； and the earth had given as much as it could before accepting him into its embrace。
Then it had been Mike's turn to give。
Kirk puked on his shoes； it was up and out before he knew it。 Then he was coughing； coughing and crying； coughing up stringers of coffee and crullers and bile that burned like the tears in his eyes。 He sank to his knees。 His own lenses went fuzzy； soft around the edges。 It gave him a certain detachment； for as long as the tears lasted。
But it didn't change the facts； bring Mike back to life or make his body go away。 He just lay there； his old wire…rim aviator glasses pressed into his face like a cookie cutter in clay。 One dead hand stuck up from the rut； bent back horribly； fingers pointing as if to say they went thataway。
The camcorder； miraculously； had been thrown clear。
It lay just beyond the grasp of Kirk's ex…partner in crime。 Kirk scrabbled over to it； found it battle…scarred but unbroken。 He clutched it to his breast as the last sobs wrenched out of his system。
The truck was a distant roar behind him； fading fast。 Toad Road sprawled out before him； the path brutally cleared by the impact。 Mike was still laying there； deader than ever。
Kirk sat back on his haunches； staring。
And； with terrible clarity； realized exactly what he had to do。
Fourteen
The little Paradise airport in southern Chanceford Township was to Philadelphia International what a 7…11 was to the European mon Market。 Just the thought of flying made Gwen acutely queasy。 Of course； nausea at a moment's notice had proven a linchpin of the Taylor Family Pregnancy； right from the beginning 。。。
〃Damn；〃 Gwen cursed； furious with herself。 She'd just spent the last fifteen minutes semihysterically sobbing over absolutely nothing； bullshit that only vaguely had Gary's face attached。 It was like making a Silly Putty imprint of Dick Tracy's face off the Sunday funnies； stretching it to actual human size； and then saying； 〃SEE？ SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE？〃
She'd heard all the jokes and the stats that suggested she'd e to resent him。 Fuck them。 Had his body ballooned to grotesque proportions？ Had all of his internal organs been trash…pacted to make room for their baby？ Did he have to pee every five to ten minutes； whether he made it to the bathroom or not？
Of course not。 But that wasn't the point。 She didn't want him to squeeze a bowling ball out his butt； or pull his bottom lip over the top of his head in symbolic solidarity。
She didn't want him to suffer as no man had ever suffered before。 At least not most of the time。
No。 Her needs were very simple。 She just wanted to be loved and supported and blah blah blah by the man of her dreams； who really was Gary； God bless him； no matter what Micki or her mother or anyone said。 It was hard to believe he put up with her； what with her mood swings and her irrationality and her HIDEOUS BLOATED ELEPHANTINE BODY THAT NOBODY IN THEIR RIGHT MIND COULD POSSIBLY DESIRE and her other little insecurities； not the least of which had to do with her ability to be a decent wife and mother。
Which of course brought her back to the coffee incident…a stupid nonevent if ever there'd been one…and before she knew it she was blubbering all over the dashboard again。
So she was more grateful than words could say when Micki came through the double…glass exit doors。 Grateful that her friend had taken it upon herself to travel all this way。 Grateful to have such a friend at all。
She felt better at the very sight of her。 Gwen quick…wiped her eyes and checked herself in the rear…view。 Like shit； she thought。 Definitely look like shit。
〃Look at you； Mama！〃 Micki called to her as she laboriously lowered herself from the cab。 〃You look fabulous！〃
〃Look who's talkin！〃 Gwen called back； assessing the well…fed； well…dressed； absolutely