Some of her tension relaxed. “All right.”
“Uh. . . don’t pack a bag or anything or they may guess what you’re doing. Don’t try to take any clothes but those you are wearing at the time. Put any money or anything you really want to save into your pockets. You don’t have much here that you would really mind losing, I suppose?”
“I guess not.” But she looked wistful. “I’ve got a brand-new swim suit.”
How do you explain to a child that there are times when you just must abandon your baggage? You can’t-they’ll go back into a burning building to save a doll or a toy elephant. “Mmm. . . Ricky, have your grandmother tell them that she is taking you over to Arrowhead to have a swim with her. . . and that she may take you to dinner at the hotel there, but that she will have you back before taps. Then you can carry your swimming suit and a towel. But nothing else. Er, will your grandmother tell that fib for you?”
“I guess so. Yes, I’m sure she will. She says people have to tell little white fibs or else people couldn’t stand each other. But she says fibs were meant to be used, not abused.”
“She sounds like a sensible person. You’ll do it that way?”
“I’ll do it just that way, Danny.”
`Good.” I picked up the battered envelope. “Picky, I told you I had to go away. I have to go away for a very long time.”
“How long?”
“Thirty years.”
Her eyes grew wider if possible. At eleven, thirty years is not a long time; it’s forever. I added, “I’m sorry, Ricky. But I have to.”
“Why?”
I could not answer that one. The true answer was unbelievable and a lie would not do. “Picky, it’s much too hard to explain. But I have to. I can’t help it.” I hesitated, then added, “I’m going to take the Long Sleep. The cold sleep-you know what I mean.”
She knew. Children get used to new ideas faster than adults do; cold sleep was a favorite comic-book theme. She looked horrified and protested, “But, Danny, I’ll never see you again~”
“Yes, you will. It’s a long time but I’ll see you again. And so will Pete. Because Pete is going with me; he’s going to cold-sleep too.”
She glanced at Pete and looked more woebegone than ever.
“But-Danny, why don’t you and Pete just come down to Brawley and live with us? That would be ever so much better. Grandma will like Pete. She’ll like you too-she says there’s nothing like having a man around the house.”
“Ricky. . . dear Ricky. . . I have to. Please don’t tease me.” I started to tear open the envelope.
She looked angry and her chin started to quiver. “I think she has something to do with this!”
“What? If you mean Belle, she doesn’t. Not exactly, anyway.”
“She’s not going to cold-sleep with you?”
I think I shuddered. “Good heavens, not I’d run miles to avoid her.”
Picky seemed slightly mollified. “You know, I was so mad at you about her. I had an awful outrage.”
“I’m sorry, Ricky. I’m truly sorry. You were right and I was wrong. But she hasn’t anything to do with this. I’m through with her, forever and forever and cross my heart. Now about this.” I held up the certificate for all that I owned in Hired Girl, Inc. “Do you know what it is?”
I explained it to her. “I’m giving this to you, Picky. Because I’m going to be gone so long I want you to have it.” I took the paper on which I had written an assignment to her, tore it up, and put the pieces in my pocket; I could not risk doing it that way-it would be too easy for Belle to tear up a separate sheet and we were not yet out of the woods. I turned the certificate over and studied the standard assignment form on the back, trying to plan how to work it in the Bank of America in trust for- “Ricky, what is your full name?”