Chapter Thirty-Four
Bree
"We don't need a four-person tent." Nathan turned me toward the shelf with compact two-person tents. "We should get a smaller one and spend the money to make sure it's rainproof."
"Fine. You pick the tent, and I'll get sleeping bags," I said.
I needed a little space, so it was good the sleeping bags were two aisles over. We had been in the car for almost eight hours straight after leaving our 'honeymoon' motel. Nathan had not said much, a sure sign that he was worried. I was mad that he wasn't sharing his concerns or his ideas with me. It had been a tense drive.
"See if they have a double sleeping bag, or at least two we can zip up together," Nathan called to me. "Camping is better when you can cuddle."
I waved a hand over my shoulder to acknowledge that I heard him but I didn't turn around. After all those hours of silent contemplation, it seemed like Nathan's grand idea was to run into the woods and live in a tent. He'd never even asked if I liked camping.
I hesitated at the end of the sleeping bag aisle because there were other people in it. The outdoor sporting goods store was the size of a small airport, but Nathan had cautioned me to avoid people as much as possible.
"Dude, it says this one glows in the dark," the younger man told his friend.
They giggled, clearly stoned, and started pulling out the comic book character sleeping bags. When I saw them start a clumsy pillow fight using two of the Batman bags, I decided it was safe to continue my shopping. They wouldn't be credible witnesses anytime soon.
I grabbed two sleeping bags with the best cold weather rating and slipped by the goofy young men. I was almost to the end cap when a couple of flirty teenage girls came down the aisle.
"My dad won't even let me drive that road. Like I'm going to roll over the edge. Bet they were from some flat state like Nebraska or something," the shorter girl said. "Morons, am I right?"
"Ew. They had names, you know. Nathan and Bree. I think Bree's a pretty name, don't you?" her taller friend asked.
I was glad Nathan had put a souvenir baseball hat on my head as soon as we entered the store. I pulled it down farther and raced back to join him.
"There you are, Mr. Cramer," I said with a significant look. "If you're done picking out your new toys, can we go? Now?"
"What am I missing?" Nathan asked.
I caught his chin in one hand. "A razor. How about you ditch this scruffy look? The Mr. Cramer I know is clean-shaven."
Nathan nodded and went along with me. He grabbed all the essentials along the way, including a razor. I grabbed a pair of shears. Then he picked out a soft brown leather driving cap.
"That makes you look like an old man," I said.
"Not if I wear it backward like that actor." Nathan put it on and grinned. "I need a new hat, don't you think?"
I turned the driving hat around the correct way then conceded. "It does give you a new look. Now, let's get out of here."
The clerk at the checkout counter was shocked that we were buying so much stuff with cash. "That's kind of crazy, man."
I gave him a flirty smile. "Wedding gifts. We didn't want boring old blenders from a registry."
"You get presents when you get married?" the young clerk asked. "Maybe a wedding wouldn't be so bad. I mean, don't tell my girlfriend or anything."
"Your secret's safe with me," I said.
Nathan waited until we were in the car and a few miles down the highway before he turned to me. "So, what happened?"
"The authorities must have gotten a positive ID from that surveillance footage. They released our names on the news," I told him.
"That means it's time to become the Cramers?" Nathan asked.
"Yes. Now. There's a rest stop there. Pull over." I pointed out the window and insisted that Nathan take the exit. "We have to change our looks now before anyone sees us."
Nathan hesitated before he pulled into a parking spot. "This is crazy. There's no reason to be so paranoid. We can just spend the rest of the day in the car and figure out what to do when we get to the next motel."
"You don't think they've released a picture along with our names? They still haven't found our 'bodies.' I'm sure the search has gone national now that teenagers are talking about it."
"All right, calm down." Nathan pulled into the closest parking spot to the rest stop bathrooms. "What should I do?"
I dug through our shopping bags and handed him the razor. "The sheriff saw you with a beard so first thing you have to do is get rid of it. Then start wearing your hat."
Nathan tugged at the end of my ponytail. "Does this mean you're cutting your hair?" he asked.
I caressed his sad expression. "You keep asking me to wear it loose. Now I'll have to."
Luckily my thick hair hung straight so when I chopped off a few inches it didn't look like a complete hack job. The new look was a bouncy, short bob, and I smiled at myself in the mirror. Until I realized I was at a rest stop, still on the run.
I dug into the bottom of my purse to find the little makeup kit I had bought a few days back at a gas station. I never wore much makeup, so it was my best chance of changing my look. Eyeliner was hard to draw on with a shaking hand but the effect gave me confidence.
"Mrs. Cramer likes a little glamor," I said to my reflection. She didn't smile back.
Nathan was waiting when I came out of the rest stop bathroom. He leaned against our used car and tipped his hat back. "What do you think, Mrs. Cramer?"
"I think you're very handsome, Mr. Cramer, but you still look like you," I said.
"You look great," Nathan said.
We got into the car and kept driving west. I saw Nathan glancing at me and asked, "Is it the hair? I didn't have any styling products."
He shook his head. "It's your eyes. You look like a movie star. Is Mrs. Cramer a movie star?"
I laughed. "She's a wannabe."
Nathan tightened his hands on the steering wheel. "We better start talking about names."
"I thought the Cramers were working out," I said.
"Sure, yeah, that's great, but people are going to think it's weird that I never call you by your first name," Nathan pointed out.
I checked my hair and makeup in the visor mirror. "How about we just stick with nicknames? You know, Cuddle Bunny and Honey Bear, or something."
"Ugh," Nathan groaned. "Couples who do that drive me crazy."
"Exactly. It'll drive people away before they have a chance to wonder about us too much."
"I'm not calling you Cuddle Bunny," Nathan said.
I laughed. "You already call me 'honey,' why not just stick with that? And I'll call you 'darling.'"
Nathan gave my knee a squeeze. "Well, you are sweet like honey."
I held his hand but stuck to business. "I was serious about you, though. You still look like yourself. We're going to need to get new clothes."
"I've got those great shirts from the vintage store," Nathan said.
I shook my head. "Not anymore. I threw them out. They were too noticeable and what if someone from that town recognized them?"
"I love those shirts! Mr. Cramer's look is vintage cool. It goes with my hat," Nathan said.
"Don't make me regret letting you get that thing," I said. "And, I'm sorry, but the Cramers have to blend in. Honey might want to be a movie star but she's going to have to do it wearing Walmart clothes."
"You're killing me," Nathan said.
I shot him a look. "You're already dead, remember?"
Nathan leaned his head back against his headrest as he kept driving. "You know, I thought faking our deaths would give us a lot more freedom."
"We have to be safe," I said.
He sped up to pass another car, something he only did when he was annoyed. "I should have stuck with the beard. All the photographs they are going to pull of me are clean-shaven."
I thought about how far Nathan had fallen. He had been a SEAL. Now he was forced to live on the run. And he couldn't even buy fun clothes.
"I'm sorry that your new life has to be so boring and normal," I said.
"No. I'm the one who should be sorry. I got you into this whole mess." Nathan sighed. "There'll probably be some kind of big box store in the next town. We' ll stop there."
"I bet Mr. Cramer likes khakis," I teased.
Nathan was not in the mood. He drove on without another word. I knew his mind was working and it still bothered me that he didn't share any of his thoughts or concerns. He felt like it was all his fault, but that was ridiculous. Neither of us knew what had happened to him. The important thing was to keep going. And not get caught.
I tried again to tease him out of his serious mood when we got into the bright store. "Darling, I know you like NASCAR but try to get a few different kinds of shirts."
His mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Watch out, honey, or I'll find a new hobby. Like fishing."
I had to drag him away from the camouflage shirts featuring large bass leaping out of the water. "I'd settle for plain and simple."
"Right. All black, just like Johnny Cash," Nathan said.
I sent him off with a kiss on the cheek and turned to the task of dressing Mrs. Cramer. I figured bright colors matched my dramatic makeup, but I didn't want anyone taking a second look at me. So, I added layers and more layers so that Mrs. Cramer ended up looking lumpier than usually warranted a second glance.
I lucked out in the pharmacy area and found a pair of reading glasses with such a weak prescription that I could see just fine. Then I grabbed mousse and maximum hold hairspray to make sure no one could think of my bouncy bob as something fashionable or fresh.
Nathan returned wearing a pair of jeans one size too big for him. They were bulky and held up by a leather belt with a silver buckle.
"Doesn't quite match the driving cap," I pointed out.
"Mr. Cramer is not afraid to mix fashions," Nathan said.
I laughed and let him get away with it. As we checked out, his words kept repeating in my head. I wondered if the Cramers would ever find a time and place where they weren't afraid. I already felt bad for our imaginary new roles. It was exhausting to always be looking over your shoulder.
I knew because I was scared all the time.