Tumbleweed Skies by Valerie Sherrard

Author:Valerie Sherrard [Sherrard, Valerie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction
ISBN: 9781554559343
Publisher: Fitzhenry & Whiteside
Published: 2010-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Now, the truck wasn't moving fast at all—there's not much of a slope in the ground, but it was still pretty scary to feel ourselves moving forward.

Marcy screamed. It was good and loud too, but it wasn't one bit helpful.

"Marcy!" I hollered, trying to make myself heard over her screeches. "Step on the brake!"

I don't know if Marcy didn't hear me or if she was in too much of a panic to take in what I was saying, but she decided to do something else. Instead of trying to stop the truck, she grabbed the door handle and yanked on it until the door started to open.

But then it seemed that she forgot to let go of the handle, because as the door swung outward, she went right along with it. At first, her legs and feet stayed inside the truck. She kind of looked like a hammock made of a little girl, hung between the door and the seat.

Let me tell you, the shrieks that came out of her then were something! I didn't even bother trying to talk to her after that. It seemed the truck was moving a little faster, and as it did, there was less and less of Marcy inside.

And then she lurched forward and disappeared!

I threw myself across the seat to where I could see her. She was screaming even louder than before, and I didn't blame her. The back tire had rolled forward, catching the material from her skirt under it. In a few more inches, that truck was going to run right over Marcy!

There was no time to get turned around. I nose-dived toward the pedals and shoved my hands hard on the one on the right, not knowing which of the three was the brake. Nothing happened. I let go of it and pushed down the middle one and the truck jolted to a stop.

Marcy was still wailing her head off when Grandma showed up.

"Oh, oh, oh," Grandma said.

"Help me!" Marcy sobbed. "Don't let the truck run over me!"

"Stop that and listen!" Grandma said sharply. "I'll see if I can pull your skirt loose; you try to wriggle out."

The next few moments were filled with the sounds of grunts and groans. I could tell when Grandma got the skirt free because she fell backward and landed on the ground with a thud. Right after that, Marcy stood up, still crying while she brushed herself off.

Grandma reached out and steadied Marcy, then she peered into the truck at me.

"Come out of there now, Elizabeth," she said sternly.

"I can't, Grandma."

"Why not?"

"If I let go of the brake, the truck will start moving again," I said. "It will hit the barn."

Grandma glanced toward the barn and then stared at the pedal I was holding down. "This pedal is the brake?" she asked. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," I said. It had to be—it had stopped the truck from killing Marcy, who chose that moment to speak up.

"I told Ellie not to touch anything!" Marcy said. "I told her we shouldn't be in that truck at all.

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