Too Hot to Handle by Matt Christopher

Author:Matt Christopher [CHRISTOPHER, MATTHEW F]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780316096072
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2009-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

8

WHEN Mrs. Finch reached the boys the first thing she said was, “I’m so sorry, boys! I’m so sorry!”

“What happened, Mrs. Finch?” asked David, wide-eyed.

Her hands and clothes were smeared with dirt.

“Please get in,” she said. “I’ll tell you.”

David and Bonesy piled into the car. Mrs. Finch released the brake and continued slowly down the hill. On the floor near the backseat was a five-gallon metal container. The boys could hear the kerosene sloshing inside it as the car waddled down the rut-filled road.

“I had a flat tire,” said Mrs. Finch.

No wonder Mrs. Finch’s hands and clothes were so dirty, thought David.

“Did you change the tire yourself, Mrs. Finch?”

“I tried. But I could barely lift the tire, let alone jack up the car. So I walked a way on the highway and flagged down a car. You’d be surprised how many drivers there are who are afraid to pick up a stranger!”

David listened with interest. “Did you walk all the way to Penwood?”

“No, thank goodness. Some kind soul finally picked me up. I got Jim Foxx, the young man who works at the gas station, to come and change the tire for me. But business was so heavy then that he couldn’t leave immediately. Boys, believe me. I’m sorry. And that wasn’t all.”

David and Bonesy stared at her.

“After Jim changed the tire I drove to Penwood. I purchased the kerosene and immediately headed back for the cottage. I guess I must have pushed the gas pedal harder than the law allowed. Anyway, that’s what the trooper told me when he stopped me and handed me a slip of blue paper.”

Bonesy’s brows arched. “Were you stopped for speeding?” he murmured.

Mrs. Finch nodded. “That I was, Bonesy, my boy.”

They reached the cottage, and Mrs. Finch drove the car into the garage.

“We’re sorry about that, Mrs. Finch,” said David humbly.

“So am I,” said Mrs. Finch. “But I’m even sorrier than that. I really wanted to get you boys to your ball game. Whatever things you’ve thought of me before will be worse now. I wouldn’t blame you if you hanged me in effigy.”

“We’d never do that, Mrs. Finch,” said David. “You couldn’t help what happened.”

Mrs. Finch turned off the ignition and looked at David and Bonesy. Then she blinked, turned and got out of the car.

“Come on, boys,” she said. “I’ll cook some supper for us, and then we’ll go home. By now that ball game is over, anyway. I just hope your team won.”

When she saw how cleaned and neat the yard was, her face lit up. “My! That looks just beautiful!” she said.

She washed, put on her other clothes, then cooked supper. The boys ate hungrily.

When they got back to Penwood, Mrs. Finch drove the boys to the ballpark. It was almost empty except for some players and Coach Beach, who were putting the baseball equipment away. Mrs. Finch gave each of the boys ten dollars. They thanked her, and David said happily, “Maybe I can buy some of those coins I still need.

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