A Blind Eye Read Free Page A

dull thump of the wipers and the roar of the heater filled the inside of the car. Corso let go of his neck and reached for the radio.
    “Pleeease.” Dougherty strained the words through her teeth. “I don’t think I could stand it.”
    They rode in silence. A mile and they passed a trio of cars, snowed over and abandoned on the shoulder. Then two more cars and an abandoned bus before Dougherty pointed and said, “Stop.”
    Corso eased the Ford to a halt. Twenty yards ahead, covered with snow, a road sign rocked in the wind. Dougherty popped the door open. The interior was immediately filled with swirling snow. “I’ll be right back,” she said, slamming the door.
    He watched as the wind propelled her to the snowed-over sign on the shoulder of the highway. Her cape was pressed tight around her body as she used the flat of her hand to smack the sign, sending a wall of snow slipping to the ground around her boots.
    Avalon 2 miles. She used her hands to clean off several smaller signs mounted lower on the post. Blue and white symbols. Gas, food, and lodging.
    Halfway back to the car, she slipped on the icy surface, teetered for a moment, and then fell in a heap. Corso jammed the Ford into Park and fumbled for the seat belt. Just as he got the belt loose, she was back on her feet and leaning into the wind with her cape flapping wildly as she trudged back to the car and climbed in.
    Her eyelashes were a solid line of snow. Her lower jaw chattered as she spoke.
    “Daaamn, it’s c-c-c-cold out there.”
    “You okay?”
    When she nodded, the snow in her hair dropped into her lap.
    “Let’s get out of here,” she said, brushing snow down onto the floor.
    “Avalon, here we come,” Corso said, easing the car forward.
    She shuddered. Tried to turn up the heater but found it was already running full bore, and then sat back and re-fastened her seat belt.
    “What’s Avalon mean anyway?” she asked.
    “It’s a Celtic legend. Supposed to be an island in the Western Sea. A paradise where King Arthur and his knights were taken after death. Kind of like Round Table heaven.”
    “There’s the exit,” she said.
    Corso tapped the brakes several times as they rolled down the exit ramp and skidded to a stop. “Icy,” Corso said.
    On the far side of the road, the gas, food, and lodging symbols were accompanied by a blue-and-white arrow, pointing to the right.
    They both leaned forward and peered down the tree-lined road.
    Dougherty rubbed at the inside of the windshield with her sleeve.
    “I don’t see a thing.”
    “Town’s probably just up around the corner,” Corso offered.
    Fifty yards and, without warning, the road got steep. The Ford skidded several times as the two-lane road wound down into the valley below. Corso shifted into first gear and allowed the engine to hold the car back as they descended, and still the tires fought for traction. Corso wrestled the wheel. “Icy,” he said again.
    “Town’s probably down at the bottom of the hill,” she said in a low voice.
    “It better be,” said Corso. “’Cause there’s no way we’re getting back up this thing until the snow melts.”
    “A problem we wouldn’t have if you had just—”
    “Give it a fucking rest, will you?” he snapped.
    Suddenly her tone matched the weather. “Is that my employer speaking? Am I being ordered to just take my imaginary photographs on demand and otherwise keep my mouth shut so as not to annoy the famous writer?”
    Corso sighed. “No…it’s your friend Frank Corso speaking, and he’s telling you that we’re in this together. Maybe trying to drive to Madison wasn’t the brightest idea I ever had, but we’re stuck with it now…so we might just as well not act like…”Uncharacteristically, he fumbled for a word and then gave up.
    “I see. You’re not telling me what I can and can’t say. You’re just telling me to stop being such a bitch.”
    Corso searched his mouth for a denial, but “Something like that”