Part 12 (2/2)
Trent rubbed his head. ”My dad used to say it never hurt to ask.”
Jerry tried to brush some of the dirt off of the bear suit. ”Well, in this case you should have listened to your mother.”
”She's really mad,” Alex said as he examined the wrap on his brother's hand.
Jerry smiled, ”Wait till you see this.”
”What?” asked Trent.
”Erica?”
She was red in the face when she appeared back in the doorway. ”What?”
”They're coming with us.”
Trent lit up. Erica went off-screaming and swearing. Chewy got into the pa.s.senger seat and put her head out the window.
”We'll head out in the morning. You and your brothers can get cleaned up in the coach. And you get to sleep indoors tonight.”
Alex couldn't suppress a smile. He grabbed the nomad's hand and shook it frantically. ”I don't know how to thank you, d.i.c.k.”
”My name's not d.i.c.k.”
”But, she keeps calling you ...”
”Jerry. Okay, my name is Jerry.”
”Thanks, Jerry. I ... I don't know what to say.”
”Don't say anything. Just get cleaned up and try to find some clothes that fit. There should be some in the closet in there. We have to make you presentable to the people of New Hope. They're kind of judgey.”
FIFTEEN.
”You're a genius, Logan.”
”Please.”
”No, really. I'm the guy in this town who can build anything out of anything and I couldn't build a system of flamethrowers.”
”I couldn't have done it without you, Carl.”
”Where did you figure this out?”
”A delinquent childhood filled with adventure and a touch of arson.”
The short man laughed. ”I know what you mean. I nearly burned my eyebrows off when I was ten. I'd tell you how, but then I'd have to kill you.” Carl slapped the warrior on the shoulder and burst with laughter.
Logan winced, more at the laughter than the slap. ”The old WD-40 and a lighter bit, right?”
Carl shook his head. ”Insurance fraud. I helped my dad torch our fis.h.i.+ng boat.”
”Oh, well ...”
”We needed the money.”
”I see.”
”For a new fis.h.i.+ng boat.”
”Well, people do what they have to, don't they?”
”I don't know if we had to. Dad was a dentist.”
Logan was silent.
”Fun though. And, it brought us closer. And, like my dad always said, you gotta have a boat.” Carl began to laugh again. It grated Logan's ears.
A young woman stared at him from across the courtyard. It wasn't the good kind of stare. He could tell she didn't trust him. It was in the way she looked at him through smoldering eyes under a furled brow. It was in her posture, clenched arms crossed, not for warmth, but for defense. It was in the way she gave him the finger, perfectly vertical, hyper extended joints for emphasis.
”Would you excuse me for a moment, Carl?”
”Anything for you, Logan.”
”Uh, okay.”
Sarah was leaning against his Mustang as if examining the vehicle. She turned away as he approached. Peering into the windows, she pretended that she did not see him approach.
She was beautiful. Jet-black hair and dark skin set off fierce blue eyes and made him wonder if he had ever so noticed a person's pupil.
”Are you checking out the car or me?” he asked.
”Excuse me?”
”I saw you giving me quite the look.”
”I don't know what you're talking about.”
”I saw you give me the finger.”
She shrugged.
”You're still giving it to me.”
She retracted the offensive digit and clasped her arms tight across her ample chest. ”I don't trust you.”
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