you so much, Dylan,” I said, smiling at him sweetly as I swung the backpack over my shoulder. From the weight of it, and the serene look on Dylan’s face, I could tell everything was still intact. “It would’ve been pretty bad walking into a police station with weed on me,” I said with a laugh. Well that sounded pretty lame. I never was good at interjecting humor for comedy relief.
“Anytime, Dani. So when can I take you out?”
“As soon as I’m back in town. My grandma is pretty sick so I have to go back home and help out for a while.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that.” His brow wrinkled with disappointment. “Hope she‘s better soon. Will you be gone long?”
“I don’t think so. A couple of weeks, maybe. Just until she’s stable and can manage for herself.”
“Be sure to call me as soon as you’re back and good luck to your grandma.” His smile seemed convincingly comforting. He was trying to score some points with me. Poor guy. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, and he wore that deli uniform well. I gave him a hug, then said goodbye. As I walked out, I sensed his eyes following me. He was such a nice guy, but right now I didn’t have time to find out if there was even a spark between us to cultivate. For now, I was a woman on the run.
Chapter 8
“Honey, it’s time to wake up.”
A sweet voice was interrupting my dream. “Grammy?”
A sharp cackling chuckle rang close to my left ear. “Not exactly, honey. I hope I don’t look old enough to be your grandma, just yet. I know I have a few wrinkles but I use face cream diligently every night. That’s the key to youthful skin…” The invasive chatter continued as my awareness of reality came back to me. I opened my eyes to find Lucille, the passenger sitting next to me, beaming at me while she held a small foil package of peanuts in her hand. At least that’s what I had learned her name to be, twenty hours ago, and regretted hearing it ever since. We still had about four more hours to go. I anticipated the bus ride would take at least that long to get to Charleston. As she chewed on her salty snack and rattled on, I felt a chill run down my spine.
I shook it off and sat up straight in my seat. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon. We’re stopping for a lunch break at the next town. It should come up in about ten minutes.”
“I must have been beat. I can’t believe I slept for over five hours. What town is it?”
“Summersville. It’s a pretty little seaside vacation town. Have you heard of it? I stayed there once years ago with my first husband, Leonard. He was just out of the army and…well you don’t want to hear that story.”
I sighed and rubbed my temples. “No, can’t say I have. It’s my first time in South Carolina.”
I had spent the last twenty hours on this Greyhound bus with Lucile’s incessant chatter and my ears were bleeding. She could be the CIA’s new torture method. Just put the chatterbox in an interrogation room and the suspects would reveal everything just to get her to stop talking. Lucille’s short gray hair and glasses reminded me of a distant, sixty-year old aunt I had been avoiding for years.
The whole experience of riding the bus was not foreign to me. I had ridden buses to school, college and work most of my life. I didn’t mind. It was a little low class and some of the people who rode buses were definitely, well, unique to say the least. However, I found it to be kind of soothing, no stress of driving, although I didn’t even own a car at this point in my life. The bus seemed like a faster and more immediate way to get out of town, instead of nervously waiting in some airport terminal.
After the interview at the police station and after retrieving my backpack, I never returned to my apartment. I had visions of the heavy Mob type men in dark suits staked out at my apartment, waiting for my return. I didn’t want to
“Anytime, Dani. So when can I take you out?”
“As soon as I’m back in town. My grandma is pretty sick so I have to go back home and help out for a while.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that.” His brow wrinkled with disappointment. “Hope she‘s better soon. Will you be gone long?”
“I don’t think so. A couple of weeks, maybe. Just until she’s stable and can manage for herself.”
“Be sure to call me as soon as you’re back and good luck to your grandma.” His smile seemed convincingly comforting. He was trying to score some points with me. Poor guy. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, and he wore that deli uniform well. I gave him a hug, then said goodbye. As I walked out, I sensed his eyes following me. He was such a nice guy, but right now I didn’t have time to find out if there was even a spark between us to cultivate. For now, I was a woman on the run.
Chapter 8
“Honey, it’s time to wake up.”
A sweet voice was interrupting my dream. “Grammy?”
A sharp cackling chuckle rang close to my left ear. “Not exactly, honey. I hope I don’t look old enough to be your grandma, just yet. I know I have a few wrinkles but I use face cream diligently every night. That’s the key to youthful skin…” The invasive chatter continued as my awareness of reality came back to me. I opened my eyes to find Lucille, the passenger sitting next to me, beaming at me while she held a small foil package of peanuts in her hand. At least that’s what I had learned her name to be, twenty hours ago, and regretted hearing it ever since. We still had about four more hours to go. I anticipated the bus ride would take at least that long to get to Charleston. As she chewed on her salty snack and rattled on, I felt a chill run down my spine.
I shook it off and sat up straight in my seat. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon. We’re stopping for a lunch break at the next town. It should come up in about ten minutes.”
“I must have been beat. I can’t believe I slept for over five hours. What town is it?”
“Summersville. It’s a pretty little seaside vacation town. Have you heard of it? I stayed there once years ago with my first husband, Leonard. He was just out of the army and…well you don’t want to hear that story.”
I sighed and rubbed my temples. “No, can’t say I have. It’s my first time in South Carolina.”
I had spent the last twenty hours on this Greyhound bus with Lucile’s incessant chatter and my ears were bleeding. She could be the CIA’s new torture method. Just put the chatterbox in an interrogation room and the suspects would reveal everything just to get her to stop talking. Lucille’s short gray hair and glasses reminded me of a distant, sixty-year old aunt I had been avoiding for years.
The whole experience of riding the bus was not foreign to me. I had ridden buses to school, college and work most of my life. I didn’t mind. It was a little low class and some of the people who rode buses were definitely, well, unique to say the least. However, I found it to be kind of soothing, no stress of driving, although I didn’t even own a car at this point in my life. The bus seemed like a faster and more immediate way to get out of town, instead of nervously waiting in some airport terminal.
After the interview at the police station and after retrieving my backpack, I never returned to my apartment. I had visions of the heavy Mob type men in dark suits staked out at my apartment, waiting for my return. I didn’t want to
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