Read Online Dotty’s Suitcase by Constance C. Greene - Free Book Online Page B

punk.”
    There was a stillness inside the truck. Only the wind and the snow moved outside. Dotty swallowed and the noise was deafening. Jud huddled up next to her, and they waited for Gary to make the next move.
    â€œYour nose is bleeding,” she said at last. “Aunt Martha says you should put ice on the back of your neck to stop a nosebleed.”
    Gary wiped his nose along his sleeve. “We sure could use your Aunt Martha along about now, now couldn’t we?” He reached over and took a couple of bundles of money from the gap in the suitcase. “Gasoline’s high, costs twelve, thirteen cents a gallon, and this old buggy’s a regular gas eater. And now she’ll need repairs. A new fender, maybe, maybe even a couple new tires. Or maybe”—he ruffled the tightly bound bills with his finger so they made a slight breeze—“maybe I might better turn her in on a new model. A shiny, brand-new model. Whatdya think about that?” He winked at them.
    â€œJud has to go to the bathroom,” Dotty said in a high, hoarse voice.
    â€œWell, now. That’s too bad.” He shook his head. “Told you you shoulda used them facilities at the gas station. Trouble with young folks these days is they don’t listen. Never do what their betters tell ’em.” He leaned past Dotty and cuffed Jud on the ear.
    Dotty felt as if she were strangling. “You keep your hands to yourself,” she said, the words jamming together in her throat. “I’ll take him.”
    â€œNo, you don’t. You stay right here where it’s cozy and warm, and make sure no burglars get in. I’ll see the little punk does his business. It’s gonna be cold in that bathroom, ain’t it, little punk?” Gary opened the door and put one leg out into the storm.
    â€œYou stay here,” he directed her, and to Jud he snapped, “Move!”
    The door handle was slick under Dotty’s fingers. She pushed down. It was now or never. She was afraid, afraid of Gary, afraid of the storm. The storm, she decided, was the lesser of the evils confronting them. They could hide inside it. It was their escape hatch. In the dark of the truck she clutched the suitcase and prayed.
    Gary pushed open the door on his side. The wind grabbed it and tried to yank it out of his hand. “Make it snappy,” he barked.
    Dotty eased open her door. She said to Jud in a low voice, “When I jump, you jump. Then run like the devil.” The door swung open, letting in the snow, which had been waiting for them.
    â€œJump!” she whispered. In the headlights they saw Gary coming around to their side.
    She jumped with Jud so close behind she felt his foot hit the back of her legs. This is how it feels to bail out of an airplane, she thought. The snow folded itself around them like the cold fingers of a cold hand.
    As they ran, it seemed to her, then and after, that Gary’s voice surrounded them. He was hiding behind a tree, and when they drew near, he would spring out at them, throw them to the ground, take their money, and then stomp them to death. And leave them to the mercy of the blizzard. She was sure his pointy nose possessed extraordinary powers, that even through the wildness of the wind and the snow he could get their scent.
    But he didn’t spring at them. Once or twice she was certain she heard him. “Dotty! Jud!” he called. “Come on back! Let’s go to Boonville.” The wind sang in the trees. “Boonville!” it sang. “Go to Boonville!”
    They trudged on, Dotty lugging the suitcase, holding it together with her frozen hands. Snow coated their clothing, their eyelashes, their eyebrows.
    â€œYou didn’t go to the bathroom,” Dotty said, as she remembered.
    â€œI don’t have to any more.”
    She pointed to a tree. “Go,” she said. He went.
    â€œWhat’ll we do now?” he asked when he came