Me and Billy by James Lincoln Collier

Author:James Lincoln Collier [Collier, James Lincoln]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AmazonEncore
Published: 2013-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

We ran through the streets of that town like we were being chased by demons set on sending us to Hell for eternity. Our lungs burned and our legs ached, but we went on running—past shopwindows, past mule wagons and dogs that jumped up out of the dusty street and barked as we sailed by. People turned their heads to stare at us, and a few of them shouted “hey” at us, for they judged we’d been up to some mischief. But we were by them before they could stop us. On we went until we came to the outskirts of town, where there were no more shops, only houses and barns, the cobblestone street turned to dirt.

We stood by the side of the road, gasping for air, wiping the sweat from our faces with our sleeves. Our legs were trembling, and I don’t believe either of us could have taken another step even if we saw real demons streaming toward us. Finally we got ourselves pulled together and started off down the road at a walk, looking back over our shoulders from time to time, just in case. “Do you think Robinson killed Prof?” Billy said.

It was mighty scary to think of Prof being dead—standing on that van seat spieling away only twenty minutes ago and now lying there with his eyes open but not seeing anything. It gave me a feeling of awe to have somebody I knew be dead. He wasn’t a perfect fella—you couldn’t say that. But he had his likable side. It was interesting to hear him talk, even if you couldn’t believe much of what he said. He’d been alive, and it got me to thinking what it meant to be alive—to breathe, argue with people, fry potatoes and eggs, and walk and twist and bend. He was there, and now maybe he wasn’t there anymore. “He could of just got wounded,” I said. “Or maybe Robinson missed him completely.”

Billy shook his head. “He wouldn’t of missed. He was standing too close.”

“Well, maybe he missed on purpose. Maybe he was afraid to shoot him with all those witnesses standing around.”

“I hope so,” Billy said. “I hate to think he’s dead. I got to where I liked him. Of course you couldn’t trust him as far as you could throw him. But you can’t trust me, either. Look what I did—tried to steal his purse out of his pants ten minutes after I promised I wouldn’t.”

“It was more like five minutes,” I said.

“Don’t exaggerate, Possum. I wasted five minutes trying to talk myself out of it.”

I didn’t want to get into it. “Well, Billy, some good came out of it. We’re a long ways from the Home, and we got three dollars and a quarter in our pockets. Besides, you haven’t stolen anything for a while.”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t say that. Look.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bunch of dollar bills crunched up in a wad.

“Blame me,” I said. “Where’d you get all that?”

“From selling the elixir back there.

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