Read Online Just Past Oysterville: Shoalwater Book One by Perry P. Perkins - Free Book Online
Authors: Perry P. Perkins
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piece of
apple-pie in front of the red-faced man, slipping the bill under
the edge of his plate. She raised a questioning eyebrow, glancing
back and forth between the two of them as they tried to regain
their composure, shrugging, she turned and began to walk away.
"Miss," he said, "I'm sorry…" He snorted
again and wiped his streaming eyes, "I think we're going to need
another piece of pie here."
Turning to Cassie, he asked, "What's your poison? Dessert's on
me."
Cassie sniffled, trying to stop the giggle
in her voice.
"Apple would be great, thanks!"
The waitress gave them one more long look
and then hurried away. He let out an explosive breath, mopping his
face with his napkin. "Well," he said, still chuckling, "I guess I
deserved that; I was starting to get a little full of myself
there…"
Cassie decided to strike, as her mother
would say, while the iron was hot.
"So?" she asked.
"What?" he answered, this time seeming to
have genuinely forgotten the original question.
"So," she repeated, "are you heading back to
Long Beach?"
"You first," he said, "why would you be
doing something as dangerous as bumming rides at a truck stop?"
"No choice, I have to get to Long Beach
and--"
"Why?"
Cassie paused, "That's my…"
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand,
"If you’re asking me to let you ride along all the way to
Washington, then it's my business as well. Now let’s hear it."
Luckily, Cassie had taken the time, during
her long wait at the bus stop, to come up with a story that
validated her trip.
"I'm writing a book," she said quickly.
Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Cassie rushed ahead, "Yeah, I'm working on a
book about the histories of small towns on the Washington coast.
It's for school. I need to spend a couple of weeks there before
spring term starts, to do research." She held her breath; waiting
for him to ask what school she attended. Instead, after studying
her for another moment he just said, "Well, that's ironic, but
okay," and took a sip of his streaming coffee. Cassie was almost
disappointed that she hadn't been able to use the rest of her
story.
"So," he went on, "What's your name?"
“ Huh?”
“ Well, unless you just want
me to call you hey
you …”
"Cassia," she replied, and then under some
compulsion she didn't even understand, she lied. "Cassia um…
Williams, but everyone calls me Cassie.”
“ Never met anyone whose
middle name was Um before.”
“ It’s just Cassie Williams,
no um.”
The man's eyebrow had inched back up, but he
said nothing, chewing a bite of his pie instead. Then, after
another sip of coffee, he murmured, "A rose by any other name, I
guess. Names are like clothes, different suits for different
occasions, that’s what I say.” The man offered his hand across the
table, and Cassie shook it.
"Jack," he said.
Cassie smiled, “Never met
anyone named just Jack before."
“ Touché,” he laughed. “I’m
Jack Leland. Nice to meet you, Cassie. You’re quick, I like
that."
"Thanks." Cassie replied, "So, what's with
quoting all the Shakespeare, Jack Leland?”
“ Oh that,” he said, “well,
first off I’m not particularly stuck on the Bard, he just happened
to be fitting in this case. Occupational hazard, I
guess.”
“ Are you an
actor?”
“ Hardly,” Jack snorted,
choking on a swallow of coffee, spraying it back into the thick
ceramic mug with a gargling laugh, “I own a bookstore just outside
Long Beach.”
There was a pause, and when Cassie looked at
him, she noticed something strange. Jack had stopped eating and was
staring at something over her left shoulder. Cassie started to
turn, when Jack quietly said, "Don't."
He spoke the single word with such command
that she froze in her seat.
Jack began to tell Cassie about how he was
on his way back from a book auction in Texas, and had just stopped
off to get a break from the highway and a couple of cups of coffee.
While he was talking to her, Jack's eyes never moved from
apple-pie in front of the red-faced man, slipping the bill under
the edge of his plate. She raised a questioning eyebrow, glancing
back and forth between the two of them as they tried to regain
their composure, shrugging, she turned and began to walk away.
"Miss," he said, "I'm sorry…" He snorted
again and wiped his streaming eyes, "I think we're going to need
another piece of pie here."
Turning to Cassie, he asked, "What's your poison? Dessert's on
me."
Cassie sniffled, trying to stop the giggle
in her voice.
"Apple would be great, thanks!"
The waitress gave them one more long look
and then hurried away. He let out an explosive breath, mopping his
face with his napkin. "Well," he said, still chuckling, "I guess I
deserved that; I was starting to get a little full of myself
there…"
Cassie decided to strike, as her mother
would say, while the iron was hot.
"So?" she asked.
"What?" he answered, this time seeming to
have genuinely forgotten the original question.
"So," she repeated, "are you heading back to
Long Beach?"
"You first," he said, "why would you be
doing something as dangerous as bumming rides at a truck stop?"
"No choice, I have to get to Long Beach
and--"
"Why?"
Cassie paused, "That's my…"
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand,
"If you’re asking me to let you ride along all the way to
Washington, then it's my business as well. Now let’s hear it."
Luckily, Cassie had taken the time, during
her long wait at the bus stop, to come up with a story that
validated her trip.
"I'm writing a book," she said quickly.
Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Cassie rushed ahead, "Yeah, I'm working on a
book about the histories of small towns on the Washington coast.
It's for school. I need to spend a couple of weeks there before
spring term starts, to do research." She held her breath; waiting
for him to ask what school she attended. Instead, after studying
her for another moment he just said, "Well, that's ironic, but
okay," and took a sip of his streaming coffee. Cassie was almost
disappointed that she hadn't been able to use the rest of her
story.
"So," he went on, "What's your name?"
“ Huh?”
“ Well, unless you just want
me to call you hey
you …”
"Cassia," she replied, and then under some
compulsion she didn't even understand, she lied. "Cassia um…
Williams, but everyone calls me Cassie.”
“ Never met anyone whose
middle name was Um before.”
“ It’s just Cassie Williams,
no um.”
The man's eyebrow had inched back up, but he
said nothing, chewing a bite of his pie instead. Then, after
another sip of coffee, he murmured, "A rose by any other name, I
guess. Names are like clothes, different suits for different
occasions, that’s what I say.” The man offered his hand across the
table, and Cassie shook it.
"Jack," he said.
Cassie smiled, “Never met
anyone named just Jack before."
“ Touché,” he laughed. “I’m
Jack Leland. Nice to meet you, Cassie. You’re quick, I like
that."
"Thanks." Cassie replied, "So, what's with
quoting all the Shakespeare, Jack Leland?”
“ Oh that,” he said, “well,
first off I’m not particularly stuck on the Bard, he just happened
to be fitting in this case. Occupational hazard, I
guess.”
“ Are you an
actor?”
“ Hardly,” Jack snorted,
choking on a swallow of coffee, spraying it back into the thick
ceramic mug with a gargling laugh, “I own a bookstore just outside
Long Beach.”
There was a pause, and when Cassie looked at
him, she noticed something strange. Jack had stopped eating and was
staring at something over her left shoulder. Cassie started to
turn, when Jack quietly said, "Don't."
He spoke the single word with such command
that she froze in her seat.
Jack began to tell Cassie about how he was
on his way back from a book auction in Texas, and had just stopped
off to get a break from the highway and a couple of cups of coffee.
While he was talking to her, Jack's eyes never moved from
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