Junior Miles and the Junkman by Kevin Carey

Author:Kevin Carey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Regal House Publishing
Published: 2023-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

16

“And just how in the name of hell are you supposed to get him up there?” Isaac asked, closing his locker and juggling his books as the first bell rang.

Kids moved from the hallway around us into classrooms along the corridor. “I don’t have it worked out yet,” I said. “That’s why I’m telling you. So we can brainstorm.”

“Ah, that would require a brain.” Isaac tapped his head with his free hand.

I sighed. “Please, I’m asking for help here.”

“Help is one thing, Junior, but this…this is crazy.” He studied me like I was a math problem, his brow furrowed.

“What choices do I have? Fed Ex Mr. Miles up to Owl Lake? Or hitchhike with him? Or, this is a good one, push him on the highway in the wheelbarrow?”

I leaned back against the lockers. Just listening to myself, I knew Isaac was right; it was crazy.

“Or how about this one?” he said, smiling. “Steal Peck’s truck and drive on up there yourself!” Isaac dropped a book as he doubled over, laughing.

But I didn’t laugh. Instead, I smiled at him.

“Wait. It was a joke, Junior. Right?”

“Just one night.”

Isaac shook his head. “Now I know you’re crazy.”

“It’s just one night and back. No one will know.”

He bent down for his book. “You’re serious? Even after the Owl Lake incident?”

I started to pace back and forth in the empty hallway, rubbing my hands together. “I have more to go on now, and anyway on Fridays Peck leaves the truck in the yard and his buddy Fran, from the diner, picks him up and they go to some nighttime racetrack and then who knows where.”

“More to go on? Junior, you’re really scaring me.”

Truth was I was scaring myself. Even though this idea was happening, it didn’t seem real to me. It seemed more like one of Peck’s stories, not that I didn’t think his stories were real, it’s just that they were his, and the stuff happening to me now seemed more like a story about someone else, a life bigger than mine.

“And Mama works late every other Friday too,” I said. “We could make it work.”

“Wait a sec…we?” Isaac asked.

“You don’t expect me to do this alone, do you?”

He lowered his glasses. “I’m still paying for our last adventure. In case you’ve forgotten.” He raised his voice. “I’d like to not be grounded forever if I can help it!”

“See, you’re already doing the time. So no worries, right?”

Isaac leaned in toward me. “Your mama is going to tan your hide this time if we get caught. Plus, you don’t have a license.”

I waved my hand in the air. “Ah. If we get caught, which we won’t. And who needs a license to drive? Living in a junkyard has its positives, Isaac. My father let me drive Peck’s truck all over that yard.”

“How often?”

I shrugged. “Plenty of times.”

“How many is plenty?”

“A few.”

“Junior!”

“Okay, okay. At least twice. Maybe three times.”

Isaac huffed. “A real NASCAR driver.”

I wasn’t going to let him beat me down on this. “We could pull a sleepover switch.

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