Choke Read Free Page A

destined for greater things, like an unlimited budget and possibly a real stoplight on Second Street instead of the yellow, blinking one. The town had swelled years ago with the booming oil industry, specializing in providing drilling equipment for wildcatters; but as the drilling subsided, and the speculators moved on to natural gas, Saltlick sank as well. At the edge of town remained one last equipment yard, half-full of rusting pipes and pumps. Somehow, though, the town and the people hung on. They were from tough stock.
    Across the street from the library and hardware store stood the All Sips “inconvenience store,” as Hortense called it, with its gas pumps. Next to that, directly across from the diner, was the popular Cathy’s Kut and Kurl, painted a vivid, sickening pink. No one was in sight there either. She waited a few more minutes, gathering her courage, then made her move.
    Immy slunk to the door of the restaurant and peered in through the glass. The dining room was dark and empty. The chairs, flipped onto the tabletops, stuck their legs toward the whitewashed ceiling. The Closed sign was flipped out, but Immy was in luck. The door was unlocked. Huey must have forgotten to lock it after he let Hortense in.
    Immy slipped inside, quiet as a possum, clicked the door shut behind her, and had no trouble telling where they were. Shouts rained down from the upstairs office. She peeked into the kitchen but didn’t see the cook, Clem, or Baxter, the handsome devil of a busboy, either. Clem was probably in the storeroom. From the looks of the half-chopped cabbage head, he was in the middle of making coleslaw. He had also finished dry mixing the biscuits for tomorrow as evidenced by the liberal sprinkling of flour on the floor. Sometimes he sent Baxter out to get supplies, so maybe that’s where he was.
    “You are out of your fucking mind!” That was Uncle Huey’s unmistakable nasal tenor. And his language.
    “Don’t you speak to me like that. I know my daughter wouldn’t prevaricate to me!”
    Immy flinched. Not usually, but…
    “She just did! I have never touched her, never!” OK, prayed Immy, let’s drop this subject right now.
    “Then why did she quit?”
    Immy held her breath and listened for the answer. It came, softer than the preceding shouting match. She had to move closer to the bottom of the stairs to hear. Huey told Hortense that Immy had quit because he demanded she work extra shifts this coming weekend.
    “You’re a filthy, rotten liar!” The volume was going up again. “Imogene Duckworthy is not afraid of a little hard work. Thank the good Lord above she takes after her father, bless his soul, and not you. You’re a bum, nothing but a bum. You always were a bum, and you always will be.”
    Huey’s voice got very quiet, but Immy could make out what he said. “Leave my office right now.” He bit off his words and sounded mucho ticked off.
    “Not until you tell me what you did to her!”
    “I’ll call the cops if you’re not out of here in two minutes. One, one thousand, two, one thousand…”
    Immy heard her mother’s muttered curse, then her heavy tread sounded on the wooden floor above, heading for the stairs.
    Immy fled out the door and ran around the corner, and she kept running until she was home. Her mother didn’t return for hours, long after Drew was dropped off from her field trip.
    * * *
    THAT EVENING IMOGENE WAS SITTING on the carpet in front of the TV playing Candy Land with her daughter, Nancy Drew Duckworthy, commonly called Drew, when her mother muted the television, directed a glare in her direction, and started in on her. Immy had know this was coming and braced herself, hunching her shoulders toward the game board.
    “You know, Huey says he never pinched your bottom.”
    “Mother, not in front of…” Immy nudged her head toward tender young Drew, whose ears would have stood up if she had been a dog. Why couldn’t her mother have said gluteus maximus or some