The Impossible Coin (The Downwinders Book 2) by Michael Richan

Author:Michael Richan [Richan, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Dantull
Published: 2014-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Winn knocked lightly on Brent’s window. After a few seconds, the glass louvers opened and he could see Brent’s face.

“Can you come out?” Winn asked. He could barely see Brent’s black eye.

“I better not,” Brent said. “My dad is out drinking. He’s been really pissy and cranky all day today, so I better be here when he gets home, or he’ll go into a rage.”

“Alright,” Winn said. “Marty said he might call the cops on your dad.”

“No!” Brent said. “You told him?”

“I had to,” Winn said. “He wanted to know where the nickel was.”

“Tell him not to!” Brent said, his voice rising with panic. “It’ll just make things worse!”

“OK, OK! I’ll tell him!” Winn said. “Calm down!”

“A teacher at school turned him in last year, and I’m still paying for that!” Brent said.

“I’ll tell him not to call the cops,” Winn said. “I promise. How’s your eye?”

“A little better,” Brent said, calming. “It doesn’t look much better when I see it in the mirror, but it feels a lot better thanks to the nickel.”

“You’re still using it?” Winn asked.

“Yup,” Brent said. “Been using it all day.”

“I thought it would have expired by now.”

“Nope, it still works,” Brent said, holding the nickel up so Winn could see it through the screen.

“Well, if you’re locked away for the night, I guess I’ll see you at the bus stop in the morning,” Winn said.

“Yeah, OK!” Brent said. “See ya!”

The louvers began to fold closed, and Winn turned to walk back to his trailer. Jeanette had come out, and was pacing behind her chair. He could see from a distance that she’d bandaged up Ears’ legs to resemble the bandages on her own. He felt sorry for the little dog, lying under the chair. It raised its head from its wrapped paws to look up at him as he approached.

“Jigga jagga ju!” Jeanette mumbled. “Jigga jagga ju!” She turned and paced in a tight circle. “They’re coming, through the desert! Over the sand! Who will save me?”

Most of the time Jeanette was lucid, but he’d seen her once or twice like this, when she went off the deep end, mumbling nonsense. Sometimes she would become so worked up she’d start screaming, and someone in the trailer court would call authorities. More than once she’d been hauled out on a stretcher; it was looking as though it might happen again tonight. Winn hoped to pass her without gaining her attention, but as he got closer, she turned to him.

“You think you’re so special,” she said, looking at him, “with your tuned up nose and your coin and your black rock. Jigga jagga ju! They’re coming for you, too! From the desert! Over the sand!”

Winn froze. How did she know about the nickel? And the rock Marty had given to him?

“That’s right,” Jeanette said, raising a crooked finger to point at him. “Time is up! You think you’re so smart. Well, jigga jagga ju! When they get here, we’ll see who’s smart! We’ll see who’s special!” She dropped her finger and began pacing again.

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