The morning was foggy. The temperature had crept up in the night, sublimating the snow to vapor that hung in the damp, warmer air. Terah was beginning to long for days when he could linger upon awakening without having to jump immediately into action. Those days when he’d awake next to Danielle, warm and cozy, if not properly employed. Opening his eyes and finding it dark, scooting over to her warm body and wrapping an arm around her. Even if this didn’t lead to making love, it made him feel accepted, happy, and content. When was the last time he’d opened his eyes to normalcy?
There was still wet, heavy snow on the ground. He dashed out of the cave, following Mich’s slushy footprints. He could only see a foot or two ahead, so running was out of the question in this rocky terrain. He didn’t want to call out—the homeless don’t want to draw attention to themselves. At least he’d be able to navigate back to his stuff in the cleft by following his own prints. A figure, undefined, rose from behind a tree. He stopped. He couldn’t be discovered here.
“A little privacy’d be nice,” he heard Mich say.
“Sorry. I thought you might have run off.”
“I do know the area, but I thought we had a kind of partnership startin’.”
“I’ll build up the fire, but now that you mention it, I could use a tree.”
Back in their Flintstone hovel, they warmed themselves, ate sparingly, and broke camp. “We won’t be too far from civilization along the way,” Mich said. “There are plenty of woods, though, and we should be able to find campin’ spots ’til we reach the convent. This damn fog will slow us down.”
“It’ll also help keep us invisible. I’m thinking if the snow melts it’ll also wash away our scent. I’m pretty sure that I’ve broken my trail enough times that we’re in the clear.”
“Are you ever in the clear if you’re wanted? If they’re convinced you did her in—what was her name again?”
“Danielle.”
“An’ she was a student of yers?”
“Do you know what an adjunct is?”
“Nope.”
“Well, colleges used to be places where you’d find work if you had a Ph.D. There was a regular cycle of retirements and the need for replacements. Then universities started cranking up their programs to churn out doctorates just as the economy was tanking. Colleges cut positions or didn’t hire when faculty retired. This country now has a huge surplus of advanced degree holders who can’t find work. Universities also learned that you could hire people as adjuncts. That means they get paid per course they teach. No salary. No benefits—that’s what really saves the schools money. No commitment. You’ve got hundreds of qualified people all clamoring for maybe a dozen jobs. You never have to worry about having a course not covered.
“I was an adjunct. I literally knew guys living out of their cars because they couldn’t afford rent and utilities. Pick up a course here and there, sometimes a hundred miles apart. One on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, another on Tuesday, Thursday. Me, I was working part time at a small publishing house. I taught in the evening to make ends meet. Danielle took my classes. I’m not going to lie—I was an easy A. Science majors needing a humanities requirement knew that. Apparently she thought I was cute. She had a scientific mind, and I made her think in different ways. Since I only taught one course at Montclair State, she wouldn’t be a repeat student, so I figured what’s the harm.”
“So she like, threw herself at ya?”
“Not exactly. She was a senior with a job offer already in hand. Pharmaceuticals pay really well. Those guys are loaded. We both saw the wisdom of sharing financial burdens.”
“She was your sugar momma then.”
Terah grimaced in the fog. “That’s not completely wrong. Not exactly flattering, though.”
“So, was it as good as they say it is?”
“What do you mean? Sex?”
“You are smart!”
“Well, that’s kind of a private thing. We were compatible. I was able to supplement her income. I couldn’t be covered under her health insurance, though. That was a real drain. It could talk half my income from a course to make Cobra payments.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“I don’t either, really. A way of keeping insurance so you don’t become a burden on society, I guess.”
“So, if somethin’ goes wrong with me, what happens?”
“If somebody finds you and takes you to a hospital, they’ll probably try to keep you alive. They’ll also try to reform you. Make you fit into the system. Get you a job. I know you don’t want to talk about yourself, but did you finish high school?”
“I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve met. It’s just that for getting a job you have to prove you’re competent.”
“So I can be paid enough to give it all back in rent an’ utilities?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
They walked on in silence. An eerie feeling closed in on them. The damp sunk in and they still could see only short distances. Their exposed faces were covered with a thin layer of mist. Terah had given his gloves to Mich. They were too big, but Terah’s jacket had warmish pockets. The break in the cold snap was welcome.
“You said earlier that we had a partnership starting. Did you mean that?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I’ve been in that asylum forever. It’s probably a good idea to move on, but we’re gonna have to start over. I could use a hand.”
“I don’t have anywhere better to go.”
“Why thanks! Who’s flatterin’ now?”
“Come on, Mich. You know what I mean.”
Their stomping through the gray haze was like being in a cold movie theater where the projector had broken down. Nothing but screen in front of them. The fog became their reality. The smell of the fog. Its disorientation. Going was slow and they couldn’t be sure of their direction.
Then a shot fractured the haze. They froze like deer.
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