Are You Haunted (part eight)

Are You Haunted

(part eight)

They ate hamburgers, hash browns, tomato soup, the Crown grown redolent of coffee and hot grease. It was eleven, five after; a lunch whistle had blown, and seven or eight customers had filed in.

Isobel asked Tovey, “How much did she give you?”

“Am I allowed to talk? You lose a bet with this guy?”

“I don’t know your wife. She was just up at the house, and Mr. Guy drove…”

“Two dollars for gas,” Tovey said, “but the tank’s full enough. We’ll be fine going out.”

“She won’t like you running a tab.” Isobel cradled her bowl, spooning saltines into mush.

“Where…” Powell began.

“Same place you started. That’s what we’re talking about.”

“My name is Powell Kenzie.” He wished he were alone, with money of his own to spend. He had finished eating first…his plate was clean to the last pickle seed, and he was still hungry. “I was asking, where does Mrs. Drybrook live? I don’t see anything wrong with the house.”

“Tough for an old lady, being stuck out there in the woods. Being with no family left.” Sly, Tovey bumped his forearm to Isobel’s. “Nah, she lives in town. That’s how money works, scarecrow. You could have more than one place with nothing wrong. Pick and choose.” He stacked his empty plate on Powell’s. “Mrs. Drybrook got no use for a car.”

Isobel said, “But we can’t let Mr. Guy see us driving it.”

Tovey led them to where Canal Street angled with the tracks away from High. He stopped and pointed. “There you go, Kenzie! Think you can drive that?”

The car looked from the ̕20s, a better make than his uncle’s. “I can. It’s not so different from what I learned on.”

Tovey crossed in front of a bus, leaving so little leeway as to forcibly separate himself from Isobel and Powell. When they’d caught up, he was propped against the passenger door, an ankle on his knee. “Get in, Bel. Kenzie’s driving.”

Powell inched under the wheel, his jacket jamming tight against Isobel’s blouse. He hoped he didn’t stink too much. The sandwich she had bought for Rodhl smelled like hamburger. Tovey’s aftershave smelled like wintergreen. The rule, the one that says you can’t tell these things about yourself, held true. He had been in the army and knew it.

“I came out with the Chief last time.” He spoke, eyes on traffic, waiting for an opening. “I’m not sure where I’m going.”

“Just keep along Canal. When you get to the edge of town, it’ll turn into seven. So you don’t do anything…”

“Soon’s I see the sign come up for Mill Road,” Tovey cut in, “I’ll holler at you.”

8

Haunted
Are You Haunted (part nine)

(2019, Stephanie Foster)