Read Online Potter Springs by Britta Coleman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Britta Coleman
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all that blood. She couldn’t seem to shake her sorrow
and Mark didn’t know what to do to help her. He forged this crazy plan and hoped a change would spark her spirit.
Instead of flowers or candy, or even a piece of jewelry, he bought her a map. Something to look at, to navigate by. To see
they had a future, and it was real.
When Amanda parted from her father, Mark held the door open and ready. He helped her inside, lifting her tenderly onto the
cushioned seat. He paid extra for the deluxe cab model, and when she sank into it, he sensed a gratefulness that he had done
at least this one small thing right.
Holding her close, he caught a scent of copper pennies. “You all set?” The tired in her eyes made his voice catch.
“Ready.” She clicked her seat belt into place.
Ben came up to the side of the truck and patted it as if it were a thoroughbred. “Got that Toyota latched tight. Shouldn’t
give you any problems.”
“Thank you. For everything.” Though Mark had refused financial help from Amanda’s parents, Ben’s simple advice had made the
difference. A catalyst to snap him out of his fog and see the truth.
She needs you now more than ever.
They shook hands, and Mark took his place in the driver’s seat.
Katy came around for her good-bye, poking her frosty blonde hair through Mark’s window.
He braced the steering wheel. “Thanks for every-”
“You take care of my daughter, Mark.”
Her voice was so low he barely caught it.
“You hear me? Take good care of my daughter.”
She didn’t smile when she said it.
“I plan to,” Mark replied. He gunned the motor and, with his bride secure in the passenger seat, left imaginary skid marks
on Houston.
* * *
TUMBLEWEEDS CHASED EACH other over the highway like long-legged spiders dancing in ghost ribbons of red dust. Under the wheels of the U-Haul, the
lifeless branches fragmented, pieces spiraled behind them in a sharp-edged wake.
For the greater part of the trip, Amanda sat silent, perched atop a mountain of maxi-pads. She shifted only to change the
radio, and to alleviate pressure on her tender parts. Mostly she looked out the window and watched the trees thin as the landscape
grew flatter and the sky grew larger as if it would swallow her whole.
“Mandy?” Mark turned down the radio, speaking loudly over the U-Haul’s incessant roar. Wind whiffled through invisible spaces,
making conversation difficult, if not impossible.
“Hmmm?” Amanda didn’t look up from her new atlas. On the map, Potter Springs looked flat and ugly, with no green hatch signs
for trees, no blurry browns for mountain ridges. Just thin black and blue lines, like varicose veins, weaving sparsely through
a sea of white.
“You getting hungry at all? There’s a town ahead, about forty more miles. We can get gas, take in the scenery.”
Since leaving South Texas, the landscape had bleached to a burnt gold color, dotted with panting cows and divided by fencing.
As if the poor beasts had strength enough to wander.
Amanda knew Mark sought to coax her from herself, to fill the growing gap between them. She wanted to reach him too, but everything
within her seemed to fold in on itself, curling up, trying to heal. She just didn’t have the energy to do more.
“No, I’m not all that hungry.” The stale smoke smell in the rented truck made her nauseous, and the toast from this morning
sat in her stomach like two slabs of cement. To be nice, she added, “But a break sounds good.”
“Okay, then.” He smiled, as if pleased with her effort, and the sound of the road reigned again.
In the flat expanse, the vegetation itself seemed to struggle for refreshment. For life. Each dot on the map proved to be
a wasteland of peeling houses and junked-out farm equipment. Trees tilted sideways and old grocery stores boasted boards instead
of windows.
Amanda looked for mile signs like oasis markers, hoping they’d enter Mayberry
and Mark didn’t know what to do to help her. He forged this crazy plan and hoped a change would spark her spirit.
Instead of flowers or candy, or even a piece of jewelry, he bought her a map. Something to look at, to navigate by. To see
they had a future, and it was real.
When Amanda parted from her father, Mark held the door open and ready. He helped her inside, lifting her tenderly onto the
cushioned seat. He paid extra for the deluxe cab model, and when she sank into it, he sensed a gratefulness that he had done
at least this one small thing right.
Holding her close, he caught a scent of copper pennies. “You all set?” The tired in her eyes made his voice catch.
“Ready.” She clicked her seat belt into place.
Ben came up to the side of the truck and patted it as if it were a thoroughbred. “Got that Toyota latched tight. Shouldn’t
give you any problems.”
“Thank you. For everything.” Though Mark had refused financial help from Amanda’s parents, Ben’s simple advice had made the
difference. A catalyst to snap him out of his fog and see the truth.
She needs you now more than ever.
They shook hands, and Mark took his place in the driver’s seat.
Katy came around for her good-bye, poking her frosty blonde hair through Mark’s window.
He braced the steering wheel. “Thanks for every-”
“You take care of my daughter, Mark.”
Her voice was so low he barely caught it.
“You hear me? Take good care of my daughter.”
She didn’t smile when she said it.
“I plan to,” Mark replied. He gunned the motor and, with his bride secure in the passenger seat, left imaginary skid marks
on Houston.
* * *
TUMBLEWEEDS CHASED EACH other over the highway like long-legged spiders dancing in ghost ribbons of red dust. Under the wheels of the U-Haul, the
lifeless branches fragmented, pieces spiraled behind them in a sharp-edged wake.
For the greater part of the trip, Amanda sat silent, perched atop a mountain of maxi-pads. She shifted only to change the
radio, and to alleviate pressure on her tender parts. Mostly she looked out the window and watched the trees thin as the landscape
grew flatter and the sky grew larger as if it would swallow her whole.
“Mandy?” Mark turned down the radio, speaking loudly over the U-Haul’s incessant roar. Wind whiffled through invisible spaces,
making conversation difficult, if not impossible.
“Hmmm?” Amanda didn’t look up from her new atlas. On the map, Potter Springs looked flat and ugly, with no green hatch signs
for trees, no blurry browns for mountain ridges. Just thin black and blue lines, like varicose veins, weaving sparsely through
a sea of white.
“You getting hungry at all? There’s a town ahead, about forty more miles. We can get gas, take in the scenery.”
Since leaving South Texas, the landscape had bleached to a burnt gold color, dotted with panting cows and divided by fencing.
As if the poor beasts had strength enough to wander.
Amanda knew Mark sought to coax her from herself, to fill the growing gap between them. She wanted to reach him too, but everything
within her seemed to fold in on itself, curling up, trying to heal. She just didn’t have the energy to do more.
“No, I’m not all that hungry.” The stale smoke smell in the rented truck made her nauseous, and the toast from this morning
sat in her stomach like two slabs of cement. To be nice, she added, “But a break sounds good.”
“Okay, then.” He smiled, as if pleased with her effort, and the sound of the road reigned again.
In the flat expanse, the vegetation itself seemed to struggle for refreshment. For life. Each dot on the map proved to be
a wasteland of peeling houses and junked-out farm equipment. Trees tilted sideways and old grocery stores boasted boards instead
of windows.
Amanda looked for mile signs like oasis markers, hoping they’d enter Mayberry
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