What’s matter?”
“She done took off in my Camaro, that’s what’s the matter!”
Nealy licked his sore and swollen underlip. “Taryn?”
“Just who the hell you think I’m talking about? Helped herself to my keys and drove right off! She thinks she can just help herself to anything she wants around here, but she’s got another—”
“Hey, hold on, now, Gaynell. It was kind of late, and Taryn didn’t have no way to get home—”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing from you! Too goddamn bad she didn’t have a way to get home! What was she doing here in the first place?”
Nealy held up a hand. Gaynell heeded the warning and backed off to look for cigarettes. When she had one going she said, “Are you aiming to do something about this, or do I have to do it? I want my Camaro back, Nealy.” She turned and went down the hall. Nealy hopped out of bed.
“Where you headed, Gaynell?”
“Call the Sheriff. Have her arrested for car stealing.”
“Bull shit. Just give me a minute, we’ll go and get your car back. No harm done.”
Gaynell paused in the living room, hand on the telephone. “Oh. You know where she’s living these days?”
“Walking Ford Trailer Park.”
“Just how many times you been over there to see her, Nealy?”
“There’s no need to get cranked up again. Let me pull my pants on and we’ll fetch the car. If she’s the one that took it.”
“She done took it, all right.” Gaynell frowned and then, unexpectedly, she laughed, snorting smoke out of her nostrils.
“What’s so funny?”
“What’s funny is I made it the last twenty miles home on the fumes. She couldn’t’ve got far. Maybe three or four miles down the pike.”
“Okay,” Nealy grumbled. “I’m up now. We’ll get a move on.”
“You sure I’m not putting you out none?”
“Jesus, Gaynell.”
Gaynell laughed again. “Bet you she had to walk some after all. I would like to seen her face when that tank run dry. I hope she had the good sense to leave my car where nobody could crash into it.”
They drove south on the Etowah Pike toward Mt. Pisgah cemetery and the *Star-Light* Drive-In, Gaynell at the wheel of the Subaru pickup and Nealy sullen by her side sipping from a mug of coffee, still not fully awake. The sun was just up when they spotted the Camaro. Gaynell pulled up behind it and leaned on the horn, as if she expected Taryn to pop up out of the back seat. To Nealy’s relief the Camaro was empty; apparently she’d hitched a ride.
She’d also taken the keys with her. Nealy got out the five-gallon jerry can of gas he’d brought with them, Gaynell looked the Camaro over to see if Taryn had done any damage or removed something that didn’t belong to her.
“ Hey! Hey! ”
Gaynell backed out of the Camaro and glanced at Nealy, who was putting gas in the tank.
“Who’s that?”
“ Hey! Help! ”
“Kids,” Nealy muttered, looking around to see where the voice was coming from. “There they are, down by the Drive-In.”
“What do you reckon’s the matter?”
“Don’t know. Here comes one of them.”
The boy, a redhead about twelve years of age, was running up the blacktop drive toward the pike.
“Sure enough in a hurry about something.”
“Nealy, that little kid’s got him a gun, honey.”
“Lever-action .22, looks like. They’re just out doing a little shooting, hope they didn’t shoot one of their own by accident.”
“Hey, mister!”
“What’s the problem?” Nealy yelled back, but he had a bad feeling just then, a visceral coldness he couldn’t explain.
“We got to get help!”
“ What happened ?” Gaynell called, but she had a look on her face, of unrealized terror, that must have matched Nealy’s own expression. She’d always been a little afraid of red-haired children. In her scheme of things they were like black cats and one-eyed granny women: certified hoodoos.
“There’s somebody dead in the drive-in! She’s dead, all right! You got to
“She done took off in my Camaro, that’s what’s the matter!”
Nealy licked his sore and swollen underlip. “Taryn?”
“Just who the hell you think I’m talking about? Helped herself to my keys and drove right off! She thinks she can just help herself to anything she wants around here, but she’s got another—”
“Hey, hold on, now, Gaynell. It was kind of late, and Taryn didn’t have no way to get home—”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing from you! Too goddamn bad she didn’t have a way to get home! What was she doing here in the first place?”
Nealy held up a hand. Gaynell heeded the warning and backed off to look for cigarettes. When she had one going she said, “Are you aiming to do something about this, or do I have to do it? I want my Camaro back, Nealy.” She turned and went down the hall. Nealy hopped out of bed.
“Where you headed, Gaynell?”
“Call the Sheriff. Have her arrested for car stealing.”
“Bull shit. Just give me a minute, we’ll go and get your car back. No harm done.”
Gaynell paused in the living room, hand on the telephone. “Oh. You know where she’s living these days?”
“Walking Ford Trailer Park.”
“Just how many times you been over there to see her, Nealy?”
“There’s no need to get cranked up again. Let me pull my pants on and we’ll fetch the car. If she’s the one that took it.”
“She done took it, all right.” Gaynell frowned and then, unexpectedly, she laughed, snorting smoke out of her nostrils.
“What’s so funny?”
“What’s funny is I made it the last twenty miles home on the fumes. She couldn’t’ve got far. Maybe three or four miles down the pike.”
“Okay,” Nealy grumbled. “I’m up now. We’ll get a move on.”
“You sure I’m not putting you out none?”
“Jesus, Gaynell.”
Gaynell laughed again. “Bet you she had to walk some after all. I would like to seen her face when that tank run dry. I hope she had the good sense to leave my car where nobody could crash into it.”
They drove south on the Etowah Pike toward Mt. Pisgah cemetery and the *Star-Light* Drive-In, Gaynell at the wheel of the Subaru pickup and Nealy sullen by her side sipping from a mug of coffee, still not fully awake. The sun was just up when they spotted the Camaro. Gaynell pulled up behind it and leaned on the horn, as if she expected Taryn to pop up out of the back seat. To Nealy’s relief the Camaro was empty; apparently she’d hitched a ride.
She’d also taken the keys with her. Nealy got out the five-gallon jerry can of gas he’d brought with them, Gaynell looked the Camaro over to see if Taryn had done any damage or removed something that didn’t belong to her.
“ Hey! Hey! ”
Gaynell backed out of the Camaro and glanced at Nealy, who was putting gas in the tank.
“Who’s that?”
“ Hey! Help! ”
“Kids,” Nealy muttered, looking around to see where the voice was coming from. “There they are, down by the Drive-In.”
“What do you reckon’s the matter?”
“Don’t know. Here comes one of them.”
The boy, a redhead about twelve years of age, was running up the blacktop drive toward the pike.
“Sure enough in a hurry about something.”
“Nealy, that little kid’s got him a gun, honey.”
“Lever-action .22, looks like. They’re just out doing a little shooting, hope they didn’t shoot one of their own by accident.”
“Hey, mister!”
“What’s the problem?” Nealy yelled back, but he had a bad feeling just then, a visceral coldness he couldn’t explain.
“We got to get help!”
“ What happened ?” Gaynell called, but she had a look on her face, of unrealized terror, that must have matched Nealy’s own expression. She’d always been a little afraid of red-haired children. In her scheme of things they were like black cats and one-eyed granny women: certified hoodoos.
“There’s somebody dead in the drive-in! She’s dead, all right! You got to
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