by Mary Hiker
Text copyright ©2015 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Jana DeLeon. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original The Miss Fortune Series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Jana DeLeon, or their affiliates or licensors.
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BAYOU BACKUP
Mary Hiker
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
This girl snores louder than a freight train.
I turned the volume up on the CD player to help drown out the snorting ruckus, then stepped on the gas a little harder. The faster I could get this RV to Texas, the sooner I’d be free of my cousin Jayne. My precious cargo was fun and entertaining in short bursts, but this road trip had already given me a great big overdose of crazy.
My back sunk into the comfortable tan captain’s chair and I glanced at the map spread out on the floor next to me. A bright yellow line drawn by grandma with her highlighter marked the route she insisted we take. One more day and I should be home free.
My Yellow Labrador, Shiner, sat across from me in the passenger’s side bucket seat and looked back at the snorting lump of tangled blankets sprawled out on the RV’s couch behind us. He gave a pitiful whimper and turned to me with pleading eyes. He’d claimed the camper couch as his spot early in the trip, but Jayne gave him the boot when she decided to take a nap.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” I said and reached over to scratch him on the head. “This whole thing will be over soon.”
Boom!
I gasped as the RV’s over-sized steering wheel jerked in my hands and pulled sharply to the right as the front of the RV dropped in the same direction. I pressed my foot on the gas, being careful not to stomp too hard. My fingers turned white as I gripped the steering wheel, straightening the rig and making sure I had control before I slowed down.
Jayne gave a couple snorts and fell off the couch with a rolling thud, a few choice words flying from her mouth in the process. “What the…?”
I ignored her, focusing on bringing the camper to a stop. Wouldn’t you know we rolled right past a wooden sign on the side of the road proclaiming, ‘Welcome to Sinful, Louisiana’.
“Sure didn’t expect to be stranded in a place called Sinful on a Sunday morning,” Jayne said as she leaned over my seat and looked out the window, dropping potato chip crumbs on my shoulder as she crammed a handful of snacks into her mouth.
That’s probably a big red flag, I thought and turned off the engine.
A blast of hot humid air slapped me in the face as I opened the door and climbed down from the camper. Shiner bounded out behind me while Jayne took his place on the passenger seat, looking for her lost shoes.
I walked to the passenger side of the rig and found two tires had gone flat. That was strange. Two tires had to be unusual. I blew out a deep breath and tried to remember when I’d last checked the tire pressure. I sure didn’t remember running over anything that could’ve done this type of damage. Hopefully, there’d be a service station open in this town of Sinful.
Jayne bounded out of the RV with her brown hair flying in several directions and called out, “Hey Madison, let’s walk into town and get some lunch.” She pulled the elastic waistband of her tan knee length shorts out in front of her and slipped her bare feet into a pair of brown Crocs. “These size eighteens can stretch to a twenty. I’ve got plenty of room for some good southern food.”
I chuckled and my stomach growled in response. I didn’t own a pair of stretchy pants, but I could surely find room in my jeans for some fried chicken. “I doubt anything’s open around here on a Sunday, but we might as well scope out our options since it looks like we may be here overnight.”
Jayne’s small teal backpack bounced on her back as she skipped down the road ahead of me. I admired her ability to enjoy herself in the middle of any type of problem. My older cousin may have been on the far side of fifty but had the enthusiasm an adventurous spirit of a twenty-five year old.
Shiner was off on the side of the road intently walking in a circle and sniffing the grass, so I shouted, “I’ll catch up to you in a minute.”
Jayne waved and continued her trek toward town.
As I turned to keep an eye on my dog, I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye. A man with a long white beard stood out in the middle of the road several yards behind us. Well, actually he was kind of swaying in the hot breeze like a tree branch. It looked like he had been drinking instead of driving.
I don’t remember passing any pedestrians, I thought. I wonder if he’s okay.
An old rusted black pick-up truck coming from town flew past me and interrupted my thoughts. It sped down the road and hit the brake lights just as it reached the tipster. The old man zig-zagged his way to the back of the truck, flopped onto the open tailgate, dangled his legs off the back and gripped the side panel of the truck bed.
Shiner bounded out from the side of the road, wagging his tail and ready to follow me. As I swung around for our walk into Sinful, a loud whistle stopped me in my tracks.
I looked over my shoulder toward the sound and as the truck disappeared down the road, I could’ve sworn I saw the old man lean back and flip me off.
With both hands.
Chapter 2
The three of us walked down the middle of the empty two-lane road into the quiet town. In fact, it was beyond quiet – almost silent. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and I glanced at the storefronts looking for a sign of life.
Jayne slowed her pace and her eyes grew big. “Maybe this is a ghost town.” Her shoulder length hair swung back and forth and her body leaned side to side as she started tiptoeing to avoid detection. “If there are ghosts, I sure hope they’re friendly.”
“Are you serious?” I chuckled, not at all surprised by my cousin’s silly ways.
Just when I thought the town was dead, the giant wooden doors on two churches on both sides of the street groaned in unison. The doors burst open, releasing a frenzy of people that clamored in our direction. One group was led by an elderly woman wearing a sophisticated style church dress with matching navy blue hat and old lady sneakers. The group on the opposite side of the street raced behind a younger athletic woman dressed more casually, her hair slung in a pony-tail and clearly in better shape.
My cousin, Jayne, jumped with a start and shouted, “I bet they’ve seen a ghost!”
People continued to flow out of the churches on both sides of the street, rooting for their favorite athlete. Jayne started jogging in place like she was planning to join them.
“Is this a Church Olympics?” I asked, mainly to myself and marveled at the intensity of the competition.
The younger woman was in the lead and gaining until an empty wheelchair was pushed from the crowd and traveled directly into her path. The crowd gasped as she jumped, trying desperately to hurdle it, but her back foot caught the top of the wheelchair and she tumbled, rolling, to the ground.
Without a pause, the old woman sprinted across an invisible finish line and into the doorway of a building with ‘Francine’s Diner’ over the door. The crowd from the w
inner’s church cheered and followed her inside, giving no thought to the fallen athlete lying on the ground.
Jayne and I joined a few other folks gathered around the injured party as she sat there, scowling, and kicked the wheelchair.
“That was a blatant foul if you ask me,” I said and put my hands on my hips for emphasis.
Two thin, older ladies with angry faces nodded in agreement.
“That’s just like Celia, she’s been a liar and cheat since birth,” one of the older ladies said, her brow furrowed into a deep v. “I’m Gertie and this is Ida Belle.” She motioned toward her slightly taller friend.
“I’m Fortune,” a voice said from below us. The athletic one sat on the ground and grimaced as she tried to flex her foot.
I knelt beside her and introduced myself, “I’m Madison. Sorry you got hurt. Is there anything we can do?”
“I’m Jayne,” my cousin piped in, dropping to her knees and opening her backpack. “And if it was a ghost driving that wheelchair, it was totally out of line.” She smiled and pulled out some medical bandage wraps, while Fortune sat there looking very confused. “Found it,” Jayne called out and held up an ankle splint for all to see. She applied both to Fortune’s ankle in a surprisingly competent fashion.
I gathered from the look on Fortune’s face that she wasn’t one to mess around wearing bandages and splints, but Jayne didn’t notice and used the entire medial pack on her ‘patient’.
I watched with a smile and leaned toward one of the older ladies. “She’s got a ton of stuff in that backpack, you wouldn’t believe it,” I whispered to Ida Belle.
“Oh yes I would,” Ida Belle said as she rolled her eyes and nodded toward her friend. “Gertie carries enough supplies in her purse to outfit The U.S. Army.”
Fortune finally had enough of Nurse Jayne, jumped up, said a couple curse words aimed at Celia and hobbled straight toward Francine’s Diner.
There was no question in my mind the fireworks were about to begin.
Chapter 3
The delicious smell of fried chicken filled the air as our small group followed Fortune into the diner. Shiner waited patiently outside the door and peered through the glass while I hurried inside to get him a bowl of water and place an order.
The cheater’s group sent us sideways glances as they inspected the strangers in town. A soft buzz rose from their side of the building as they started up their gossip train.
Jayne ignored all the people and shouted her order right away. “I’ll have a triple portion of the banana pudding, please.”
The entire diner went silent. Dead silent. The locals stared at Jayne with their mouths hung open.
Celia stepped forward, adjusted her church hat and shot Jayne a smug look. “You can’t have any. It’s first come, first served and we get it all.” She raised her arm toward her friends as they watched and whispered, their eyes still big in surprise.
“If Fortune hadn’t gotten run down by a radical wheelchair you wouldn’t be first,” Gertie said from across the diner and crossed her arms. “You’re a low down cheater - even on a Sunday.”
The noise level rose quickly as the two sides of the café expressed their opinion on the impending cat fight. The two elderly women obviously had a history and I thought for a minute they might duke it out.
Jayne still had hope for some pudding and turned to the young waitress, “Can I lick the bowl?”
“What bowl?” the waitress asked in confusion.
“Can I lick the big bowl that the banana pudding was made in, please?” Jayne held her hands in a praying position.
Celia interrupted. “No you can’t. Every bit of banana pudding is ours this week. I won the race fair and square.” She then proceeded to demand the pudding’s mixing bowl from the café staff.
The poor waitress tried to explain to Jayne, “I’m so sorry, there’s only a limited supply of banana pudding each week, and Aunt Celia won this time.”
Jayne put her hands on her hips and marched up to Celia, raising her knees high in the air with each step. When she reached her target, she braced herself and leaned forward until their faces were four inches apart. “Then let it be known to everyone in this town - we’re enemies for life.”
Celia responded by grabbing her bowl of pudding and taking a big spoonful. She then raised it high in victory before stuffing it in her mouth. Then she grabbed the mixing bowl and licked it right in front of Jayne’s face.
Jayne lifted her right arm toward the sky, pointing her finger in the air, then bent over and drew and imaginary line across the floor of the café between them. “Be warned,this is the battle line.”
Gertie stumbled over and put her left arm around Jayne’s shoulder and raised her right one in the air shaking a fist at Celia. An instant bond was born between the unlikely pair. They had forged a common enemy in the pudding war.
I winced and stood in the doorway, making sure I was in a good position to protect my dog if a cat-fight broke out.
Ida Belle shook her head, pulled our two warriors away from the fray and gave a stern look to Gertie.
“Calm down, Gertie. You don’t want to end up in jail,” Ida Belle said.
“Again,” Fortune finished, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Especially on a Sunday,” Ida Belle added, her nose up in the air.
“Celia’s showing her butt because you’re with us,” Gertie said and gave Jayne a high-five as they sat down to eat.
Jayne plopped her backpack on the table and dug through the contents that contained who-knows-what. At a glance, it looked like it would feed and care for a small country for a week.
Gertie glanced at the backpack and ran her fingers across an orange and blue embroidered design on a side pocket. “Where’d you get this nice backpack? I love all these wild colors.”
“I got it from my Grandma last week before we left on this trip.” Jayne smiled at the memory and kept rummaging inside the bag. “She designed it herself just for me. I love my Grammy!”
“Don’t even think about it, Gertie,” Ida Belle eyed the embroidery. “If you wore a backpack, the weight of all your junk would flip you over backwards. You’d end up breaking your neck.”
Jayne emerged, pulling out a small bag of water balloons and shook it in the air in front of Gertie. She leaned in and whispered, “We can fill these later and ambush Celia.”
Gertie nodded with bright eyes and a smile, giving the idea two thumbs up.
Fortune looked at me, a small grin growing on her face. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear those two were related.”
Chapter 4
I relaxed in the shade of an expansive old tree, admiring its thick branches and eating the best country fried steak I’d ever tasted. Shiner played in his water bowl beside me, splashing the water with his paw like a typical Labrador.
The diner door opened and my new friends strolled out, carrying their meals in styrofoam to-go containers, with Jayne tagging behind. Well, actually Fortune kind of hopped-limped with her messed up ankle.
“We’ll eat out here with you,” Fortune said and gave Shiner a scratch on the head when he bounded over to greet her. “We need to keep Gertie away from Celia anyway.”
Gertie sat down in the grass nearby. “Yeah. Besides, I haven’t eaten alfresco in a while.”
Jayne maneuvered herself into position to sit next to Gertie and tossed Shiner a piece of grilled chicken that she’d purchased in an effort to keep him from begging for the food on her own plate.
We were in the middle of a good meal and great conversation when we were interrupted by Ida Belle’s phone letting out a loud buzz. Her eyes narrowed as she read a text.
“You might as well relax,” she said. “Walter said it’s going to take a couple days to get the right tires for your camper.”
I looked at her in confusion.
“Jayne told us about your flat tires, so I sent my friend Walter out to take a look.”
A big weight lifted off my sh
oulders. “Thanks, Ida Belle.”
Her thumbs worked furiously on the phone until she had more news. “It looks like you ran over some spike strips, but local law enforcement doesn’t use the type of spikes that are stuck in your tires,” Ida Belle said and glanced over at Fortune.
“How do you...?” I started to ask.
Gertie patted my arm. “She has her ways of getting information.”
Fortune frowned, then gulped down the rest of her food and got her car keys from her pocket. “How about you let us give you a ride back to your RV to take a look.”
###
Fortune knelt in the grass on the side of the road and inspected the pieces of metal embedded in the camper’s flat tires. “Looks like these spike strips were homemade.”
Gertie asked, “Did you see anyone out here? “
“Just an old guy that appeared on the road back there after we stopped,” I said and pointed down the road. “Then he got a ride.”
“Where, exactly?” Ida Belle asked, her eyes narrowed and her look serious.
“Shiner can probably show us,” I said and called him over. “He just retired a month ago from working search and rescue missions. He’s got a good nose on him.”
I started walking down the side of the road and gave Shiner the command to find any human scent trail. “Search.”
The lab’s muscles tightened as he went to work, looking for new scent. He quickly caught something in the air and trotted in the grass along the side of the road until he reached the edge of some thick vegetation. Shiner’s tail wagged furiously as his head disappeared into the brush.
I jogged over to take a look. “Good boy,” I said and wadded up my navy blue bandanna as a makeshift reward.
As my dog shook the cloth back and forth with pride, I peered into the foliage.
A small area had been matted down and was littered with the remnants of a crude spike strip, an empty mason jar and a half eaten sandwich.
