Nolan, Jeffrey, and I came up with shifts to watch TV. Jeffrey until 1 AM, Nolan from 1 to 4, and me from 4 to 7. None of us believed that we’d actually get any sleep, but all the same it felt productive to make a plan.
The moment of truth came just after midnight, when Marie asked where the restroom was, and I told her, and then she walked out of the recording room and into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. We all looked off in our separate directions, waiting, until after what undoubtedly seemed longer than it was, there came the unmistakable sound of water rushing through pipes, the studio’s one important acoustical deficiency. (During recording sessions, nobody was allowed in the john while the tape was rolling.) Another minute passed, and then the door, improbable as it seemed, was opening again, and in the doorway stood our lovely, trustworthy hostage, hands and face washed, makeup removed, ready to settle in for a night on the sofa and earn her forty thousand dollars. Our slumber party had begun.
I went over to Nolan now and sat down on the floor beside him.
“You should’ve woken me up,” I said quietly. “It’s my turn.”
“That’s all right,” he said. “I’m not tired.”
“You’ve been awake a long time.”
“I don’t mind.” On TV a man with enormous biceps was stuffing broccoli into a juicer. He stood on one side of a kitchen island, and his four friends stood on the other side. The muscled man handed one of his friends the glass of bright green liquid, and the friend took a sip and said, “Mmmm,” and high-fived the man who’d made the juice because it tasted so good and healthful, and then their other friends applauded.
“So I guess it was all a matter of settling on the right price,” I said.
Nolan looked at me. “How so?”
“We raised our price from one thousand to forty thousand inside of three hours.”
He shrugged. “She’s smart. She’s one of us.” He looked back at the TV. “That’s why it’ll be good to never see her again.”
We both watched TV awhile. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep,” I said after a few minutes had passed. “I’ll take over.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “None of this matters. None of it makes any sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“Any of it. Giving her forty thousand dollars. Staying here overnight.”
It did make sense, though. However strange this day had been, now we had a plan where before we didn’t.
“Everything’s going to work out,” I said.
“Oh, come on, Will. Wheeling and dealing with some nineteen-year-old? This isn’t getting any better.” He looked at me. “There’s a simpler solution. You know that.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m not saying we do it, so relax. I’m just saying that when no one knows you’re missing, then it means you won’t be missed.” He shook his head. “Look, forget it. It’s late, and I’m exhausted, and I’m only acknowledging what we’ve all been thinking.”
“No one’s been thinking that.”
“Of course you have.”
“No,” I said. “I haven’t.” I watched him closely for a moment, but he was looking at the TV impassively, impossible to read. “Things are going to look different in the morning.” I hoped that would be the case. I needed Nolan’s usual hopefulness. I needed to believe in his belief. “And you need to rest your eyes awhile.”
“Maybe later.”
“Then do you mind if I watch with you?”
The strongman transformed sweet potatoes and beets and spinach into tall glassfuls of juice. The audience oohed and aahed. It was beautiful to watch how happy they all looked, even if they were only actors.
16
We decided to end our vigil early. There was no reason not to.
At eight thirty in the morning, Nolan was still sitting in front of the TV. The rest of us had slept a little, but Nolan’s eyes were bloodshot, his shirt untucked, his hair no longer perfect. It had taken eighteen hours, but he finally looked as rumpled and spent as the rest of us.
It appeared that Marie was telling the truth. There was nothing about her on TV overnight and nothing this morning. As far as the media were concerned, yesterday was nothing but a day with some bad storms that’d since moved off the coast. I was anxious to leave yesterday behind and get on with today. Yesterday we’d kidnapped a girl. Today we would set her free.
At a little after nine, Nolan shut off the TV and rubbed his eyes. Blinked a few times and stood up. “How about let’s get this show on the road already,” he said, massaging his neck. “Any objections?”
There were none.
I put the blanket, which Marie had neatly folded and then draped over the arm of the sofa, back into the bass drum. I asked Jeffrey to help me carry the sofa back into the control room. Without my asking, Marie held the doors open for us. When we went back into the recording room, she sat at the drum set and tapped a couple of the drums with her fingertips.