Finally she
pulled on her mostly-dried long-sleeved tee and threadbare jeans that she’s
washed in the river and dried on tree branches in the sun. She pulled on her
black Lucchese boots and tucked the Ruger 9 mil in her right boot; out here, she
didn’t hide it under her jeans. She hadn’t seen anyone on the trail since she’d
shared a campfire with a young couple three nights ago, but you couldn’t be too
careful.
She finished braiding
her hip-length light-brown hair and stood, stretching and twisting before she
picked up her backpack.
Hero took a few
steps along the trail they had followed to the river. Charley shook her head. “Come
on, boy. We have to get out to the road. Storms are coming, and we need to get
some miles behind us.”
She headed
towards the distant road. Hero trotted next to her and whined. She rested a hand on his back to soothe him as
they walked. “I know, boy. I don’t like it either, but we’ll be okay.”
At the road, she
hiked along, turning and sticking out her thumb for the occasional car. They
sped past and she shrugged and continued walking. Finally a dusty red pickup
truck passed and then pulled over. As she approached, she could see a child’s
head in the back seat of the cab. That bode well, although she was kind of
surprised they stopped, with Hero by her side. She didn’t plan to put him in
the back, so she figured this would be a quick conversation.
The passenger
window rolled down. The driver was a handsome guy, maybe thirties, short hair,
dark skin that made his smile extra bright. He had a long scar from the side of
his right eye down his cheek and under his chin. Charley wondered what his
story was, then cut off that thought. It didn’t do to ask questions. People
asked them back, and she had no answers to give.
“Hey, where you
headed?” he called.
“As far west as
we can go,” Charley said, hoisting her backpack and resting her hand on Hero’s
back again. He sat under her touch, alert and quiet.
“We’re headed to
Denver. Can your dog sit on the floor in front of you? I don’t think he should
go in back with Pete.” Charley leaned forward and looked into the back seat.
Pete sat on a booster, bouncing with excitement, reaching both hands out to
wave at her. She smiled and nodded to him.
Looking back at
the driver, she said, “Yes, he’s a good dog.”
“I can see that.
He’s big.”
The door
unlocked. Charley swung her backpack behind the seat next to Pete and climbed
in, pointing to the floor. Hero neatly jumped in and sat next to her, facing
Pete. She reached out a hand to the driver. “Thanks. I’m Charley. This is Hero.”
He pulled back
out onto the freeway without taking her hand. “No problem. This is Pete, and I’m
Daniel.”
Charley didn’t
realize she had fallen asleep until she felt the truck slowing down. She opened
her eyes and jerked upright when she didn’t see Hero next to her. Looking back,
she saw him curled up on the seat, with his head in Pete’s lap. Pete’s hands
were fisted in his hair, and he slept with his head dropped back against the
booster and his mouth hanging open in that wide, vulnerable look kids keep in
their sleep longer than they do awake.
She looked around
to see where they were stopping. Daniel said, “I need a break, and I figured we
could grab a bite to eat…”
Charley bit her
lip and wondered if Daniel and Pete would notice that she didn’t eat anything.
She wouldn’t need to feed again for several more nights…
|
Dogs
in house
|
Houdini, Brindle
|
|
|
|
|
Time
writing:
|
35 minutes
|
|
|
|
|
August
word count:
|
11,882
|
No comments:
Post a Comment