Becca Read Free Page B

ruined your life.”
    At the sound of the body
moving and the heavy footfall, she put a foot on the next riser, but stopped.
It would do no good to climb the stairs; he would only follow. She stared up at
the door behind which her mother sat in bed.
    “No,” she said, shaking
her head. “You’re wrong. I did ruin my life, and two others. But I had
help. You forget—”
    “Don’t you talk to me
that way.” The voice moved closer—the Sir Walter Raleigh aroma slipped around
her like an unwanted coat. “Don’t you dare try and make any of it my
fault.” He said calmly, “It’s a ten minute drive from Barb’s to that station,
and a ten minute drive from there to here. Five minutes for gas. You’re missing
about a half hour.”
    “I had to wait while the
guy finished another car.”
    “So he was busy also?”
    “No. I mean not like Mr.
Kline.”
    “Hmmm. But you could sit
and wait at this other gas station but not at the Sunoco?”
    “I had my oil checked and
my windshield cleaned—I hit a bug—”
    “You’re telling me
because you hit a bug it took you longer to get home?”
    “I was talking to the guy
there and I guess I lost track of time.”
    “Who was he? What’s his
name?”
    Her recollection of the
conversation wanted to bring a smile to her face, but she could not do that
now—although during her drive home a smile had been there until she opened the
front door. She could not get Bertram—Josh, whatever his name was—involved in
this, but she could not deny she had spoken to him. “His name was Josh.”
    “You spent a half hour
talking to this Josh.”
    “Yes. No. I drove around
for a little bit afterwards.” She had even considered returning to the gas
station, but she did not. Instead, she drove aimlessly for nearly ten minutes
trying to make sense of the conversation she’d had with Bertram. It had
invigorated her—and had rekindled a deep feeling of sadness at the same time.
    “He must have been an
interesting young man.”
    “He made me laugh.”
    “A joker, too.”
    “Dad, please.”
    “Greg doesn’t make you
laugh? I’m not going to apologize about questioning you. You’re just now
getting yourself straightened out and I don’t want to think we’re going down
the wrong path again.”
    “We? I thought it was all my fault. I’m the one who embarrassed you.”
    “Stop it. You know I
won’t have you go through that again.”
    “I’m not whoring around.”
    He removed the pipe from
his mouth and jabbed it at her as he spoke. “That was your word, not mine.”
    “But it’s what you think,
right? Because that’s what I did.” She sighed heavily. “My leg hurts,
I’m tired; I want to go to bed.”

Two
    I
    Bert’s day started with
an Army recruiter trying to talk him into enlisting to avoid the inevitable
draft. Enlisting would offer him choices he would not have if he entered the
Army involuntarily. Soon, Bert would have to make a choice so he took the
recruiter’s card.
    Early in the afternoon, a
car pulled to a stop at the pumps and the driver shut off the engine. The man
watched Bert as he approached the car from the office.
    “Yes sir?” Bert asked.
    The heavyset driver had a
moustache and wire-rimmed glasses. He regarded him curiously for a moment
before speaking. “Fill it up,” he said.
    Bert inserted the nozzle
and started working on the windshield. The man watched him.
    “Excuse me,” the man
said. “Who works Friday nights?”
    Bert paused before he
answered. The man looked familiar, although Bert knew he had never seen him
before. “The manager usually,” he said.
    “What’s the manager’s
name?”
    “Carl.”
    “Did he work last night?”
The man’s voice held a threatening tone.
    “No.”
    “Do you know a Josh?”
    Bert felt a quick twinge
of apprehension but remained cool and hoped his reaction did not show. The man
had to be the father of the girl from last night. Bert could not remember
anything that he may have said that would