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Authors: JoAnna Carl
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the passenger’s side window.
Chapter 6
I f I didn’t wet my pants, it was because I was too busy trying to restart my heart. It had come to a dead stop. My head, however, whirled toward the sound at the speed of light.
I don’t know if I whispered or shouted. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me. Hershel Perkins.” The croaking voice was unmistakable.
“Hershel!”
Oddly enough, knowing it was Hershel outside the truck calmed my fears. Hershel was strange, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I rolled the window partway down. “Hershel! We thought you were dead! Where have you been?”
“I’m hiding.”
I tried to open the truck’s door, but Hershel pressed against it, holding it closed. “No! Don’t open the door! I don’t want any light.”
“Why not? You must be hurt. We need to get help for you.”
“I’m not hurt as bad as some folks want me to be.”
“People think Joe rammed your canoe. We’ve got to tell the police you’re all right.”
“No! I can’t trust them.”
“Sure you can.”
“No! I saw all those people on the dock. They’re out to get me!”
“The police? Your sister? Surely not.”
“Oh, Patsy might be all right. But there’s Frank. I don’t know about him.”
“Joe was there. He doesn’t want to hurt you. And Trey’s always been nice to you, hasn’t he? They’ll be relieved to find out you’re all right.”
“No! They may all be in it together.”
“Why, Hershel? Why would anybody—anybody at all—want to hurt you?”
“I don’t know why. But they do!”
Suddenly I didn’t want to be alone with Hershel. This was not the harmless crank who had come into TenHuis Chocolade for a free treat every day. This was a new Hershel, one who feared other people, who might strike out, thinking he was protecting himself.
“Joe’s just on the other side of the shop.” My voice almost trembled. “He’ll be back in a minute.”
“I’ve got to be gone before he comes. The only person who can help me is your aunt.”
“Aunt Nettie? How can she help?”
“She’s the only one I can trust! Don’t tell anybody else. I’ll meet her at the old chapel at midnight.”
“The old chapel? What old chapel?”
“She’ll know where I mean. Midnight!”
Footsteps skittered over the gravel, and Hershel was gone.
Suddenly I could make a noise again. “Joe!” I threw the truck’s door open and stood up with my head outside. “Joe! Come quick!”
Immediately I saw the reflection from Joe’s flashlight bouncing around in the trees. I heard the crunch, crunch, crunch as he ran through the gravel. He yelled, “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t make myself get down from the truck. For a minute I stood there, sticking my head out of the cab like a giraffe. Then I sat back down and slammed the door. Joe would be there in a second. He had his cell phone. He’d call the police. Jerry, Chief Jones—they’d be back lickity split. They’d search the woods for Hershel.
And they wouldn’t find him.
It would be impossible to find Hershel in the dark in the woods around Joe’s shop. Hershel could hide in those woods. He could climb a tree or lie down behind a bush. He could listen to everything the searchers did, see a lot of what they did.
And Hershel would know I hadn’t obeyed his instructions not to tell anyone but Aunt Nettie. He wouldn’t keep his end of the bargain and go to the old chapel—wherever that was. But meeting him there might be the simplest way to find him.
Just as Joe reached the hood of the truck I reached a decision. I couldn’t tell Joe what Hershel had said. Not there, not at the boat shop, with Hershel still out in the woods. Maybe close by, listening. No, I had to get away from there, find Aunt Nettie and ask her how to handle the situation.
Joe yanked his door open. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess my imagination got the best of me.”
“Huh?”
I spoke loudly and distinctly. “I thought I heard something.
Chapter 6
I f I didn’t wet my pants, it was because I was too busy trying to restart my heart. It had come to a dead stop. My head, however, whirled toward the sound at the speed of light.
I don’t know if I whispered or shouted. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me. Hershel Perkins.” The croaking voice was unmistakable.
“Hershel!”
Oddly enough, knowing it was Hershel outside the truck calmed my fears. Hershel was strange, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I rolled the window partway down. “Hershel! We thought you were dead! Where have you been?”
“I’m hiding.”
I tried to open the truck’s door, but Hershel pressed against it, holding it closed. “No! Don’t open the door! I don’t want any light.”
“Why not? You must be hurt. We need to get help for you.”
“I’m not hurt as bad as some folks want me to be.”
“People think Joe rammed your canoe. We’ve got to tell the police you’re all right.”
“No! I can’t trust them.”
“Sure you can.”
“No! I saw all those people on the dock. They’re out to get me!”
“The police? Your sister? Surely not.”
“Oh, Patsy might be all right. But there’s Frank. I don’t know about him.”
“Joe was there. He doesn’t want to hurt you. And Trey’s always been nice to you, hasn’t he? They’ll be relieved to find out you’re all right.”
“No! They may all be in it together.”
“Why, Hershel? Why would anybody—anybody at all—want to hurt you?”
“I don’t know why. But they do!”
Suddenly I didn’t want to be alone with Hershel. This was not the harmless crank who had come into TenHuis Chocolade for a free treat every day. This was a new Hershel, one who feared other people, who might strike out, thinking he was protecting himself.
“Joe’s just on the other side of the shop.” My voice almost trembled. “He’ll be back in a minute.”
“I’ve got to be gone before he comes. The only person who can help me is your aunt.”
“Aunt Nettie? How can she help?”
“She’s the only one I can trust! Don’t tell anybody else. I’ll meet her at the old chapel at midnight.”
“The old chapel? What old chapel?”
“She’ll know where I mean. Midnight!”
Footsteps skittered over the gravel, and Hershel was gone.
Suddenly I could make a noise again. “Joe!” I threw the truck’s door open and stood up with my head outside. “Joe! Come quick!”
Immediately I saw the reflection from Joe’s flashlight bouncing around in the trees. I heard the crunch, crunch, crunch as he ran through the gravel. He yelled, “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t make myself get down from the truck. For a minute I stood there, sticking my head out of the cab like a giraffe. Then I sat back down and slammed the door. Joe would be there in a second. He had his cell phone. He’d call the police. Jerry, Chief Jones—they’d be back lickity split. They’d search the woods for Hershel.
And they wouldn’t find him.
It would be impossible to find Hershel in the dark in the woods around Joe’s shop. Hershel could hide in those woods. He could climb a tree or lie down behind a bush. He could listen to everything the searchers did, see a lot of what they did.
And Hershel would know I hadn’t obeyed his instructions not to tell anyone but Aunt Nettie. He wouldn’t keep his end of the bargain and go to the old chapel—wherever that was. But meeting him there might be the simplest way to find him.
Just as Joe reached the hood of the truck I reached a decision. I couldn’t tell Joe what Hershel had said. Not there, not at the boat shop, with Hershel still out in the woods. Maybe close by, listening. No, I had to get away from there, find Aunt Nettie and ask her how to handle the situation.
Joe yanked his door open. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess my imagination got the best of me.”
“Huh?”
I spoke loudly and distinctly. “I thought I heard something.
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