17) Questions, So Many

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We ride in silence for about five minutes. I have questions, so many, but most of them are about my mom, and the answers coming are going to be hard. I don't want to talk about her now. I break the silence. "I didn't pack one single supply, food, or water. I only packed some weapons. Hope we don't break down between here and Stuart."

"No worries." Gus shows me a freezer bag full of eggs. "Boiled. Cindy Lou handed these to me. She told me I needed to be better prepared."

"Well, I never thought I would say this, but I don't want to eat another egg for a week, maybe two." We both laugh.

"I know, right," he says. "I ate a dozen at least." Gus pats his stomach. "Who knew there were so many ways to eat eggs. And the marmalade, huh? Tasted like... home."

"Been a while, hmm?"

"Yes."

"Do you miss it?"

"I love America, but yes, I miss it."

"Everyone misses home," I agree.

We drive in silence another full minute, stopping and starting again to get around some debris. This road seems to get more cluttered every time I'm on it. It looks like I always pictured the Oregon trail - scattered with precious artifacts  that are now just duffel bags, clothes, the occasional piece of furniture, and trash. These once ago treasures stare back at me and make me feel guilty.

This time Gus breaks the silence with an apology. "I'm sorry, Eliot."

"Ok." I say. I don't know what specifically he is apologizing for, but it could be for many things. I sense a pattern here - English men apologizing to me. Most people probably like getting an apology, but it makes me feel uncomfortable. I wished it didn't, but somehow it makes me feel like a victim. Not someone wronged, but someone taken advantage of. I don't like it, it makes me feel squirmy and anxious.

"I didn't really know you." Gus continues. "I been undercover so long, lying so long."

I don't know what he wants me to say back so I don't say anything.

"I'm a liar."

I nod my head in agreement.

"A scoundrel."

I nod.

"Untrustworthy, cocky, and basically, just a shite."

I nod.

"Stop me, anytime." He flashes that irresistible one-dimpled grin.

I shake my head.

"I want you to trust me completely."

"I don't know if that can ever happen, Gus."

"I'm going to tell you something. I'm going to confess something I did that no one but me knows."

"Not even your dad?"

Gus pauses. "Not even my dad."

"I'm sure there's a lot of things you could confess. How can you just pick one?"

Gus nods in agreement. "Yes, there are, but everything I have done was for the mission. For the good. Not bad. I have done nothing I am ashamed of, except."

"Except?"

"I am going to pull the car over because I want to look you in the eye when I say this."

Why do men keep confessing to me? I don't want to be their mother or their absolution. After we pull over, I say this. "I don't think I want to know what you did,"

Gus says, "And, I don't want to tell you, but I hope that if I tell you, this will help you trust me now. Trusting me is the most important thing now, Eliot. You have to trust me, otherwise, our mission will fail."

"Our mission?"

"To save your mother, and.." There is a pause, and I know that Gus has a flare for the dramatic, and I am losing my patience so I repeat what he said, "Save my mother and..?

"Save the world."

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