Desert Crossing Read Free Page A

paint. She had a pretty face, tan from the sun, and her dark hair fell around it like a veil. She brushed it back, looking annoyed. “Yes? What is it? Car trouble?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “There’s … we…” I couldn’t think what to say.
    Kit came running up then, with the dogs bounding beside him and tangling in his legs.
    â€œOscar! Toronto!” the woman said sharply. The dogs backed away, cringing. I held out my hand to the big black one, and he licked it, butting his head under my palm.
    Kit was talking fast. “A girl ran into the road. Right in front of our car. She’s … she’s dead. My friend stayed back there with her, but she’s dead.”
    The woman looked from Kit to me. She had dark, steady eyes, and it was hard to look back at her. “Come inside,” she said. “I’ll call the police.”
    We dripped water all over the floor while she dialed. There was in the middle of the room, a huge piece of twisted metal, painted all different colors, with weird things sticking out of it—a hubcap, a piece of pipe. A drop cloth was spread underneath it, and a rug was rolled up against the wall. Kit looked at me and raised his eyebrows.
    â€œJoe? Hi, it’s Beth Osway. I’ve got a couple of kids here. They’ve had an accident, they hit somebody. They think she might be dead.” She listened for a minute, then turned to Kit. “Where was it? How far from my road?”
    Kit gestured. “I don’t know, east of here, maybe two, three miles?”
    She repeated the information into the phone. “Okay, we’ll meet them there.” She turned to us. “Are you all right? Were either of you hurt?”
    We shook our heads.
    â€œNo, they seem to be fine.” She hung up and took a nylon jacket from a peg on the wall. “It’ll take them a while,” she said. “But we’ll go wait.”
    She looked at us curiously then, with the same sharp gaze, almost like she was solving a puzzle. “I’m Beth. What are your names?”
    Kit spoke. “Kit Kitson and Lucy Martinez.”
    She looked at Kit. “Kit Kitson?”
    Kit flushed. “Well, Frederick. But everybody calls me Kit.”
    I stared at him. Frederick? I wasn’t sure even Jamie knew that.
    We ran out into the rain again. When I climbed into the back of the car, the smell of beer was stronger than ever. Beth pulled open the passenger door and started to get in, but she stopped. She looked around the inside of the car, then back at me.
    â€œHave you been drinking?”
    â€œNo!” I said quickly. “No … I’m only fourteen.”
    Kit was sliding into the front seat, not looking at her.
    Her eyes didn’t move from my face. “Has he been drinking?”
    I turned to Kit. He started the car, not saying anything.
    Beth reached over and twisted the keys, yanking them out of the ignition. “We’ll take the truck,” she said. Her voice was hard.

5
    In the truck, I sat in the middle, pulling my shoulders together so I wouldn’t have to touch either of them. I could feel Kit shifting around, getting ready to say something. In the dark cab, his face looked tense; the usual smirk had disappeared.
    â€œWe weren’t drinking,” he said finally.
    Beth didn’t answer. I stared at him. I couldn’t believe he was going to lie. She’d been inside the stinking car.
    Kit shrugged. “I mean, we had one beer.”
    Beth kept her eyes on the road. The windshield wipers swished back and forth in a panic, beating in time with my heart.
    Kit leaned forward. “Like one sip, really. Half of it spilled, anyway. You know, when we…” He was trying to get her to look at him, but her eyes stayed on the road.
    She frowned. “Pretty goddamn stupid, don’t you think?”
    Kit sank back, defeated, and I shrank into myself. I couldn’t figure her out. She