Calamity Jayne Read Free Page B

Customer Service explained.
    I glared at them both. “See if I throw in any extra toppings on your next Dairee Freeze visit, gentlemen.” I stomped to the
     exit before it dawned on me that I’d neglected to remove my own Bargain City vest. The heck with it. I’d taken enough abuse
     for one night. My feet were killing me, and my ears were still ringing with: Customer assistance in sporting goods. Customer assistance in electronics . I closed my eyes against the throbbing of my temples. First thing when I got home, I was going to pop a couple of headache
     tablets, wash ‘em down with a light beer (or two), and fall into bed. I sighed. The only male companions I had waiting at
     home for me were two hairy gents badly in need of new flea and tick collars, toenail clippers, and some tartar-control mouthwash.
    I plodded to my car near the back of the darkened lot. I opened the door, jumped in, and winced when the maracas joined the
     drumbeat in my head. I turned the key and prayed. Yes! Whitie started without a whimper, sputter, cough, or belch. I eased
     out of the parking space, hit the headlights, and headed out of town. We live around seven miles from Grandville, the county
     seat, on a curvy, dead-end gravel road off an old county blacktop.
    Once I left the lights of town and turned onto County Road G-14, I glanced down to check my speed. Sometimes I get a little
     heavy on the accelerator. The dashboard was dark as my mood. What now? I tapped the dash with a knuckle. Nothing. I checked
     to make sure I still had working headlights. I fumbled around in the dark and finally found the radio, then pulled a face
     when a voice boomed out of the speakers discussing campaign finance and soft money. As opposed to hard, I suppose. Hey, as
     if it really makes a difference to politicians what their campaign money feels like, as long as it’s green and negotiable.
    I punched the buttons to switch the radio to one of my country channels. Instead, a noisy rap erupted, followed by an investment
     chit-chat (like I want to hear how well others are doing) and finally, golden oldies from my parents’ heydays. I hit all the
     buttons again. Where was She Daisy? Tim and Faith? Shania?
    I twisted the dial. Probably the same snafu that robbed me of dash lights had erased all my radio station settings. I finally
     located my favorite station broadcasting the top-of-the-hour weather forecast. A chance of thunderstorms Saturday afternoon
     and evening. Figured. The last time I had a weekend night off, gas was below two bucks a gallon and the only Hilton that mattered
     had room service and pay-per-view.
    I hummed along with the radio, keeping time on the steering wheel with my fingers, when I became aware of a thumping very
     much out of sync with the music. I shut the radio off and listened, grimacing when the car began to wander not-so-subtly to
     the right. Flip-flop. Flip-flop. Flip-flop. Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk. I pulled a face. This couldn’t be good.
    “Well, hell!” I slapped a palm over my mouth. “I mean heck!” I steered the leaning vehicle to the roadside, and cursed my
     lack of luck, lack of cell phone, and lack of knowledge concerning the location of the four-way directional hazard flashers
     of my own vehicle. I stopped the car and opened the door, trying to calculate the odds of there being a flashlight in my vehicle,
     then recalculating the odds of it being one that actually worked. I leaned down and stuck a hand under my seat, probing for
     a light. To my amazement, I pulled out a neon, glow-in-the dark, plastic flashlight. Cocky, I enjoyed the rare moment of personal
     triumph a bit before remembering to try the switch. I held my breath. I pushed the switch and wanted to crow with self-satisfaction
     when the light actually cast a respectable beam (after I gave it a couple light raps on the steering wheel). Ditz, huh?
    I moved roadside to survey the tire, casting the flashlight beam first toward the grassy