Chevy pickup that now sat in front of her scared the Jesus out of her.
At first it looked like a smoking demon from a nightmare, but once her eyes focused, she saw a man on the other side of the seat peering over the passenger-side door. He was smiling at her.
" Girl, what are you doing out here this early?" the man said.
She'd never talked to strangers, even when her parents were alive. Her father had warned her many times that doing so would result in a whooping, so she never once even thought about such a transgression. But he was dead now. Burned up in a fire. She stood up and walked to the door.
"Hi," she said with her head bowed.
"Hello," replied the bald, gray-bearded man.
After a few moments of silence he spoke again. " You got somewhere you need to go? Looks like your packed up there."
"I don't know. Momma just said I got to go away from here."
" Did she now? A pretty little thing like you? I think she's crazy is what I think," he said, still wearing the smile that made her slightly uncomfortable. And, did he say pretty? This was definitely a man who could not be trusted. Little girls in rags with ratted hair were not pretty. Her father said so many times. They were 'dirty, ugly things,' he would say. And sometimes her momma would agree. Rosalind started to back away, but the man spoke again. "Hold on now, I'm not tryin' to be forward or nothin' like that. But it's cold out here and you was sleepin'. That ain't healthy, if you know what I mean. I can take you as far as Whispering Pines. You got any family there?"
She shrugged . She really didn't know. There might be someone there who'd claim her, but she had never left the house to visit anyone and she never recalled any visitors ever coming to the house, let alone relatives. She would have remembered that. A chill grabbed her. She shivered. She felt the warmth from the truck pouring out of the window, over her face.
"Ye s," she said.
"Well alright then. Hop on in, I'll get your things. " He got out of the car and put her suitcase into the truck bed. He even opened the door for her, something her charming man in the black suit had done for her so many times when they went to New York or Paris or even Louisville. Maybe he could be trusted after all.
Her first encounter in the world of survival was going just fine, and she didn't even have to spend one penny of her twenty-three dollars.
She climbed in the passenger side while he rolled up the window and closed the door.
He came around the other side and got behind the wheel.
"It's gettin' shit-cold out there, if you know what I mean. It was a good thing I was drivin' by."
She knew exactly what he meant. Her mother knew it too. It was shit-cold outside. And maybe she knew something else; when you were cold like that on the inside and you had been for a long time, the only thing that could warm your bones was a fire that ripped through your life and put you right back out in it.
Chapter 4
They arrived in town fifteen minutes later. Her bones had finally thawed from the previous night, but she knew that he would be moving on and she became nervous at the thought of being alone; this time in an unfamiliar town. He got out of the truck and opened her door.
"Last stop Whispering Pines." He held her hand as she got out of the truck and saw how scared she was. He looked around the square and then behind him. There was a coffee shop on the corner that was having a special on two eggs, sausage, toast, and coffee for only thirty-five cents. He had two dollars in his pocket. "Why don’t we grab some breakfast, on me?"
She nodded innocently and breathed a sigh of relief. They walked into the shop and sat down in an empty booth. It was a Thursday morning and there wasn't a crowd, so the waitress walked over right away.
"Two specials, please," the man said. The waitress set two glasses of water on the table. Rosalind was thirsty and drank the entire glass in one motion.
Rosalind put both of her hands
At first it looked like a smoking demon from a nightmare, but once her eyes focused, she saw a man on the other side of the seat peering over the passenger-side door. He was smiling at her.
" Girl, what are you doing out here this early?" the man said.
She'd never talked to strangers, even when her parents were alive. Her father had warned her many times that doing so would result in a whooping, so she never once even thought about such a transgression. But he was dead now. Burned up in a fire. She stood up and walked to the door.
"Hi," she said with her head bowed.
"Hello," replied the bald, gray-bearded man.
After a few moments of silence he spoke again. " You got somewhere you need to go? Looks like your packed up there."
"I don't know. Momma just said I got to go away from here."
" Did she now? A pretty little thing like you? I think she's crazy is what I think," he said, still wearing the smile that made her slightly uncomfortable. And, did he say pretty? This was definitely a man who could not be trusted. Little girls in rags with ratted hair were not pretty. Her father said so many times. They were 'dirty, ugly things,' he would say. And sometimes her momma would agree. Rosalind started to back away, but the man spoke again. "Hold on now, I'm not tryin' to be forward or nothin' like that. But it's cold out here and you was sleepin'. That ain't healthy, if you know what I mean. I can take you as far as Whispering Pines. You got any family there?"
She shrugged . She really didn't know. There might be someone there who'd claim her, but she had never left the house to visit anyone and she never recalled any visitors ever coming to the house, let alone relatives. She would have remembered that. A chill grabbed her. She shivered. She felt the warmth from the truck pouring out of the window, over her face.
"Ye s," she said.
"Well alright then. Hop on in, I'll get your things. " He got out of the car and put her suitcase into the truck bed. He even opened the door for her, something her charming man in the black suit had done for her so many times when they went to New York or Paris or even Louisville. Maybe he could be trusted after all.
Her first encounter in the world of survival was going just fine, and she didn't even have to spend one penny of her twenty-three dollars.
She climbed in the passenger side while he rolled up the window and closed the door.
He came around the other side and got behind the wheel.
"It's gettin' shit-cold out there, if you know what I mean. It was a good thing I was drivin' by."
She knew exactly what he meant. Her mother knew it too. It was shit-cold outside. And maybe she knew something else; when you were cold like that on the inside and you had been for a long time, the only thing that could warm your bones was a fire that ripped through your life and put you right back out in it.
Chapter 4
They arrived in town fifteen minutes later. Her bones had finally thawed from the previous night, but she knew that he would be moving on and she became nervous at the thought of being alone; this time in an unfamiliar town. He got out of the truck and opened her door.
"Last stop Whispering Pines." He held her hand as she got out of the truck and saw how scared she was. He looked around the square and then behind him. There was a coffee shop on the corner that was having a special on two eggs, sausage, toast, and coffee for only thirty-five cents. He had two dollars in his pocket. "Why don’t we grab some breakfast, on me?"
She nodded innocently and breathed a sigh of relief. They walked into the shop and sat down in an empty booth. It was a Thursday morning and there wasn't a crowd, so the waitress walked over right away.
"Two specials, please," the man said. The waitress set two glasses of water on the table. Rosalind was thirsty and drank the entire glass in one motion.
Rosalind put both of her hands
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