Read Online One Fool At Least by Julia Buckley - Free Book Online Page A

combo. All I could think of was the name Knute Rockne, and I didn’t know if he was even a football player. I just thought it was a cool name.
    I had a vague, hazy sort of plan. If I could be near the door when the pizza man came, I could plead with him to call the police. Or maybe I could be near the back door. I hadn’t seen it, but I knew there was one, because Olaf had opened it noisily to get a six pack of beer from what must have been the back porch. What if I went out the back door while they paid the pizza man, then slipped around and got in the pizza man’s car?
    I then listed the problems with that idea. One, it wouldn’t take both of them to pay the pizza man. Two, I had a broken foot, and couldn’t “slip around” anywhere. Three, Olaf had a gun. Four, Sven might have a gun. Five, I didn’t like guns, having once been shot by one. I sighed loudly and adjusted myself in my chair, consulting my watch. About half an hour had gone by since Olaf had made the call.
    “Randy,” I said. “Nature calls again.”
    Randy rolled his eyes. “You’ve got little kidneys, lady,” he said. “But I can relate.” In a weird way he seemed to enjoy it, the chatting with me, and the long limping walks. I wondered if he were lonely.
    Olaf called, “I’m going to grab some wood for the fire. It’s getting cold in here.”
    It
was
getting cold. In the bathroom, even the toilet seat was cold. Apparently in Montana they hadn’t heard that summer should be hot. I washed my hands, then opened the door and looked both ways. Front door to my right, back door to my left. Just then Sven appeared. “Gotta pass some beer, lady, so move yourself out of there.” He slipped into the room and shut the door.
    The doorbell rang. Fate was on my side. Sven was trapped; from what I could hear, a veritable river of urine had just started to flow, and there was no stopping it now. I limped to the door as fast as I could, grimacing with pain. I opened it; a giant man stood there, holding a pizza and smiling amiably.
    “Oh, they’ve got the money,” I said. “They’ll be with you in a moment.” And then I lunged past him into what had now become darkness, first hopping on one foot and then trying to walk with both of them. That didn’t go so well. I’d planned to walk into the woods and then flag the pizza guy down on his way out, but I didn’t know how far I could make it. In desperation, I got on my hands and knees and crawled.
    I’d only gotten about ten feet when the pizza guy called, “What are you doing?”
    “Shhh!” I hissed. “They’ll hear you. I’m escaping, if you must know, but my foot is broken.”
    I couldn’t see his face, just his huge body in silhouette. “In the car,” he said.
    “They’ll look there.” I was still on my knees like a doggie.
    “I’ll be sure they don’t.”
    He spoke with such authority that I crawled to his car, which was blessedly near. I opened the back door and climbed onto the floor. I shut the door as quietly as I could, then heard all hell break loose.
    “Where the hell is she?” I heard Jim/Olaf yell.
    Sven tried to be calm. “She’s got a fuckin’ broken ankle, she can’t be far. Did a girl come out here?” He must have been talking to the pizza man. “Thing is, she’s our granddaughter, and we just got her out of the psychiatric ward. If she gets away, she’ll do herself some damage.”
    The pizza man, who I’d come to think of as my savior, said, “Didn’t see anyone. That’s ten ninety-five.”
    I heard Olaf swear and rustle around in his pockets for the money. “We need to look in your car before you go,” he said.
    The pizza man said something low and authoritative. Then Olaf said, “Hell, you need to just butt out.”
    Oh God, I thought. He’s pulling his gun. He’s going to kill the pizza man and find me. I waited, and heard nothing at all. Then the sound of what seemed to be the quiet closing of a door.
    Suddenly the driver’s door opened, and