Eden Hill Read Online Free PDF Page B

like family for nearly as long as any of them could remember. It was a good arrangement.
    Virgil always looked forward to Thursday nights, but this week he especially welcomed the diversion. The new Zipco station going in across the street had him rattled, he had to admit. At least Mavine seemed herself again, though he hadn’t quite figured out that magazine incident. As with many things beyond his ken, he’d just let it rest, and thankfully the storm had blown over. For now, at least.
    He was tired too. Much of the day had been spent ordering snow tires and antifreeze for the coming winter, and getting answers to some questions. He nodded to each familiar face before finding a seat on an old office chair.
    The room went silent, and everyone’s gaze fell on him. He felt like a smallmouth bass, snagged by Arlie’s fishhook.
    “So, Virgil. What’s this about a new service station going in where the old feed store used to be?” Grover was still perched in Welby’s chair, receiving his usual trim.
    “Looks like the church sold it to somebody to build a Zipco Super Service station. Sounds like some kind of a big company like Texaco or Standard Oil.”
    “I’ve seen some of those fancy service stations, and they have all kinds of things going on. Road maps, free coffee cups with a fill-up.” Grover twisted in his seat. “Some of those places are open late into the night, just like the truck stop. Think you can compete with this Zipco thing? I know when the A&P in Quincy has a sale going on, we lose some customers.”
    Compete? That’s what he’d done in junior varsity football and what he’d seen on Wide World of Sports on TV. He never dreamed he’d have to compete for Osgood’s. Was he supposed to tackle the Zipco operator and keep him away from the goal line?
    Welby answered for him. “Oh, we’ll be just fine. You and all the good folks in Eden Hill bring us your cars and trucks now, and we’ll still be seeing them when this new Zipco comes in. Isn’t that right, Virgil?”
    Virgil nodded. He was grateful for Welby’s answer, as he was trying to come up with one of his own. “Yes, you’ve always done right well by us.”
    “Well, I’m seventy-five years old this year, and I’ve seen them come, and I’ve seen them go. The Depression got a lot of us.” The croaky voice had come from Sam Wright, his silver hair freshly trimmed.
    Grover leaned forward as Welby pumped up the chair. “Sam, just where did the Depression get you? Somewhere in the head?”
    Sam stiffened. “Mr. Stacy, it cost two of my friends their crop-dusting business. Couldn’t afford the gasoline to keep the planes in the air. I took a chance and bought my Waco from one of them. Got it for a song.”
    Grover rolled his eyes. “Sam, it’s not 1935 and the New Deal anymore. We got John Kennedy, not FDR, in the White House. I think you want to forget that sometimes.”
    The elderly man’s voice became louder and croakier, bordering on a cackle. “Kennedy? I voted for Nixon, of course, as any sensible person   —”
    “Gentlemen, an argument isn’t helpful.” Welby clipped both Sam’s tirade and the scruff on Grover’s neck.
    “That’s easy for you to say.” Grover turned, almost losing an ear. “You voted for both Kennedy and Nixon in the last election.”
    “They’re both such nice men.” Welby was not easily dissuaded.
    Virgil began to relax   —the subject had changed, and the evening’s entertainment had begun. Sam would liven up any conversation, whether here or playing pinochle on the porch in front of Stacy’s Grocery. Reliable or not, he was at least amusing. Gladys said he was half blind and whole nuts and had spent time in a lunatic asylum in Ohio, but then again she couldn’t always be trusted either.
    He had to admit to some of the same doubts. H. C.’s shop had almost gone under in ’35, and Virgil remembered many a night with thin soup and dry bread for dinner. Some said the stress of it all had