Do You Know the Monkey Man?: A Novel by Butler Dori Hillestad

Author:Butler, Dori Hillestad [Butler, Dori Hillestad]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781561456055
Publisher: Peachtree Publishers
Published: 2013-12-31T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The first thing I noticed about the Hill Valley bus station the next morning was the smell. The whole place smelled like fried eggs. But even though I hadn’t eaten anything that morning, I didn’t feel at all hungry.

I shuffled along in line until it was my turn at the ticket counter. “One-way ticket to Cedar Rapids, Iowa,” I mumbled to the guy behind the counter. I handed him my mom’s debit card.

Angela and her dad waited for me over by the map of Minnesota. They both stared at that map as though it was the most interesting thing in the world.

The ticket guy handed me my mom’s card and my ticket. “Your bus is already here. Lane 1. But we won’t be boarding for another half an hour. Next?”

I picked up my ticket, then moped over to Angela and her dad. It was over. I was heading home with no more information than I’d come with. Plus I was going to see some major trouble when I got there. Probably more trouble than I’d ever seen before in my entire life.

Angela’s dad smiled uncomfortably. He checked his watch. “You don’t need me to wait around until the bus leaves, do you?” he asked. “I really should be getting in to the hospital.”

“Oh, no,” I said right away. Something about Angela’s dad made me want to stand at attention. “I have my ticket.” I held it up. “The bus is here. I’ll be fine.”

Angela’s dad looked relieved. “Okay, then,” he said, holding out his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Sam. I hope you have a nice ride back home.”

“Thanks,” I said as he about killed my hand again.

He started to walk away when Angela called out, “Wait! Don’t I get to say good-bye to Sam before we leave?”

He turned and glanced quizzically at his daughter. “We?”

“Well, yeah,” Angela’s voice dropped. “Aren’t you going to drop me off back at…your house before you go to the hospital?”

Her dad laughed. “Angela, the house is only a few blocks from here. I think you can walk.” Then he turned right back around and headed out to the parking lot like the busy, important man that he probably was.

I guess I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Angela and I had talked about walking here by ourselves last night. But Angela was ticked. “It would serve him right if I got mugged walking back by myself,” she grumbled.

“In this town?” I cried. Hill Valley wasn’t any bigger than Clearwater.

“It happens,” Angela said.

There was no place to sit down in the bus station except at the breakfast counter. And it didn’t seem right to sit there if we weren’t going to eat anything. So we wandered outside.

It smelled even worse out here. Diesel fuel.

Another bus was just pulling in. It said Mall of America in the little screen above the driver. I knew the Mall of America was near Minneapolis. I wondered how far it was from Richland.

Angela leaned back against the brick building and sighed.

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