Hello, Harry by p.g. sturges

Author:p.g. sturges [sturges, p.g.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-23T12:00:00+00:00

15. HELLO, HARRY

The sun had finally come out in mid-afternoon. Harry broke out his Wayfarers. He'd be deep in Colorado by nightfall. But not as far as Clifton.

Dorothy was back in the front seat. Harry looked over. "So, what's so important about Clifton? Got family there?"

Dorothy shook her head. "No. A friend. A friend in need." She smiled at Harry. She liked him. "Thank you so much again for helping me."

Harry nodded. The old lady had a lot of determination packed into eighty-eight pounds or whatever she was. And he really didn't get a mean feeling from her. That Claypool sourness.

"I'm going to go look at the Reverend's bedroom."

"I thought you did that already."

"Well, I got waylaid."

"What does that mean?"

"The chili. It, uh, got me thinking."

That was a pleasant way of putting it. "I was told to lay off that stuff. And I did."

"No one warned me."

"Now you know."

Dorothy shrugged. "Your bathroom. It smelled good."

What did that mean? "It did? Uh ... "

"I don't mean that, Harry."

"You had me worried."

"When I went in there was a faint smell of roses."

Roses? "I'm, uh, glad." Was there such thing as olfactory senescence?

"You don't use one of those fresheners or something?"

"No." Just the opposite. He took pride in his intestinal fruiting. A rich invisibility that only he could properly savor, properly qualify. Broccoli, eggs, sardines? Spaghetti, balogna, Diet Coke? Like an artist mixing colors. Michelangelo. And who, once initiated, could forget the smooth, homogenous wonder of a Big Mac or two? Piquancies likened to children. You could only appreciate your own.

"Well," said Dorothy, "I'm going to go back there."

"Enjoy."

Sue was pissed. The old lady had ruined everything. The freedom she had enjoyed while Harry was at the wheel was gone. She was like a bad guy, holed up, waiting to be discovered. She couldn't just go out there and surrender.

Suddenly Sue realized the woman was padding around the bunkroom. Christ. Sue held her breath, peeked. The ancient creature was looking for a place to sleep.

Or was she? For Christ's sake, all the bunks were the same, comfort-wise. But the Stone Age busybody was apparently going to stick her nose into every one.

Through the crack in her curtain, Sue saw the old lady's bony ankles in white socks and tennis shoes. She was looking into the bunk above Sue. Sue would be next. The jig was up.

Then her curtain was pulled back. The old woman's eyes went wide, she stumbled back wordlessly, tripped, fell over.

Christ. Maybe she would claim assault. Sue rolled out of her bunk, maybe Mrs. Pleistocene had cracked a vertebrae. "Are you alright?"

Pleistocene extended a tiny hand, Sue pulled her to her feet.

"I'm sorry, you startled me. I didn't know anyone else was on board. I certainly didn't mean to intrude. I'm Dorothy. Dorothy Hickam."

"I'm Sue."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Didn't mean to bother you, dear. Mr. Lang told me to sleep anywhere."

"That figures." A plan had occurred to Sue.

"It figures? You two arguing?"

"Something like that. In fact, don't mention me at all to Harry. And I mean not a word.

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