“I still don’t hear anything,” Jonathan retorted, but he began to slow down again with a grumble to himself.
Suddenly the sound became more pronounced. “Ooooh. What is that?” Tracy looked behind her at the freeway behind the car.
“What are you looking for?” Bucky asked.
“See if there’s smoke or something.”
The maroon van pulled to a labored stop at the self-serve pump. Sighing to himself, Jonathan hoisted the short hood and went in search of an attendant. Climbing out of the passenger door, Bucky headed to the front of the van and peered into the confusing tangle of parts and wires. A moment later Tracy stood next to him. “Have you fixed it yet?”
He gave a short laugh. “Honey, you are looking at the greatest single glaring weakness in my resumé. Car engines.” He pointed down at a grease - smeared handle. “I think you check the oil with that thingie there, but that’s about it for me.”
A short man in a Shell service outfit walked up with Jonathan. “What have we got here, folks?” Bucky stepped aside to let him look. The man took a quick scan of the engine and nodded with a muttered grunt to himself.
“What’s wrong? You see anything?” The usually cheerful Jonathan’s face was suddenly sober.
“Yeah, there it is.” The man pointed. “Belt right there just shredded itself.” He reached down and fingered it. “Yep, it’s shot.” He turned to Jonathan. “That – and this one here really should be changed too. You fix one without the other, you’re just throwin’ your money out the window.”
Shaking his head, Jonathan snapped off an angry epithet. “How much is it?”
The man wiped his hands on his already stained trousers and scratched at his chin. “I’ll have to check the chart inside, but I think the two of ‘em will run you right at about $60. Might be a bit less or a bit more, but that’s close. ‘Course, I’ll have to see if we even have them in here.”
“You can’t just do the one?”
The attendant shrugged. “Well, sure, I could. But unless you’re going right home, you really need to do them both right now.”
Jonathan sagged. “We’re goin’ clear up to Seattle and then back to the Bay Area.”
“Well, that’s it then.”
The stocky boy pounded a fist against the side of the van. “Man, that really cuts into the cash.”
“Look,” Bucky offered. “I’ll help you with it.”
“You got some extra?”
The taller student shook his head. “Not a lot,” he confessed. “But what else are we gonna do? You don’t have a credit card on you?”
The other boy blushed. “Nah. I shoulda brought one, but my folks don’t really do money that way. It’s all cash and deals and stuff.” Finally he gave an exasperated little nod. “If you could spare a twenty, that’d be awesome. When we get up to Seattle I can get some extra bucks there.”
The attendant emerged from the station, shaking his head. “We haven’t got these belts in stock, but I just called over to the auto supply store, and they’ve got some. But it’ll be about an hour.”
Jonathan’s scowl grew deeper. “All I can say is, those A’s better win all three games.” He nodded to the attendant. “Yeah, I guess, go for it. I ain’t got no choice.”
The long minutes ticked by slowly in the late April afternoon. Tracy, balancing her petite self on a raised section of concrete edging next to the Shell station managed to walk from one end to the other without slipping off. “Pretty cool, huh?” she bragged to Bucky.
“Not bad.”
At last she tipped off to the right. Cocking her head to one side, she shielded her eyes. “Hey, I think there’s an ice - cream store down there.”
“Where?”
“See?” She gave a bubbly little laugh. “Come on!”
Tagging after her, he wondered if it would be difficult to get away to see Lisa in Seattle. And what was he supposed to do with this maddeningly brilliant redhead?
“Well, it’s not thirty-one flavors,” Tracy said as they arrived, “but at least they got a few.”
“Are you going to have some?”
“For sure.” She began to fish in the pocket of her shorts. “How about you?”
He shook his head, remembering the yet unpaid repair bill. “I better not.”
“Oh, come on. I’m buying.”
He laughed. “Well, in that case, I’ll have a triple banana split with twenty toppings on it.”
“Ha ha.” Ordering for both of them, she handed him an oversized cone. “Since you guys are buying belts with your fun money, I guess I can pay for this.
“Thanks.” He took a healthy bite. “What’s that kind you got?”
“Fudge peanut butter.” She held out her cone. “Here.”
“No, that’s OK.”
“Come on.” Pulling on his arm, she finally got the cone up to tasting level. “You’ll like it.”
They traded tastes all the way back to the service station, where Jonathan leaned against the van with a sour expression. “I hope you brought enough for everybody,” he said when he saw the nearly consumed cones.
“Sorry.” Tracy slipped her hand into the crook of Bucky’s arm. “Just me and my baseball hero.”
A good hour and a half had elapsed before the new belts finally arrived, and it was growing dark by the time the attendant finally signaled for Jonathan to start up the engine. After a momentary sputter, the engine roared to life.
“That’s more like it,” the attendant nodded. “That should get you folks up to your ball game.”
Fishing in his wallet for the cash, Jonathan accepted $20 from Bucky and handed the bills over with a small sigh. “Come on, let’s roll,” he muttered, pulling himself back into the driver’s seat.
“You still going to try to make it to Portland tonight?” Seated for the moment in the front passenger seat, Bucky looked for a mileage marker.
Jonathan shook his head with a frustrated glance at the digital clock on the dashboard. “Man, no way. It’d be after midnight before we got up there.” He shrugged. “Maybe Medford.”
“What about supper?”
“Yeah, I know. You guys hungry yet?” He adjusted his seatbelt. “We really need to make up some time before we stop again.”
“Sure.” The ice cream had put off hunger pains for the moment. “But keep your eyes open.” Bucky forced a laugh. “For something cheap.”
Jonathan seemed about to say something, then abruptly stopped. A moment later he gave a distinct little laugh. “Well, if we run out of cash, I guess I can always think of a way to get more.” His voice was suddenly quiet.
The odd remark mystified Bucky. “What are you talking about, Shultz?”
A slow grin spread across the other boy’s face. Reaching over, he released the glove compartment door. There, lying underneath a pile of old road maps, lay the gleaming black automatic.
Chapter Seven: A Gun in the Glove Box
Involuntarily Bucky sucked in his breath. “What is that thing doing here?” Instinctively he reached out and flipped up the little door, almost clipping his friend’s fingers.
“Watch it!”
Bucky turned around to see if the girls had noticed, but they were involved in an animated backseat conversation. He turned back to Jonathan. “Are you crazy, man? Bringing that along?” He kept his voice low, trying to mask his disgust.
“Hey, it’s no biggie. Lighten up.” Jonathan flipped the radio on again and began hunting for a clearer FM signal. “I just like to have it around. Makes me feel good.”
“What for?” The whispered words had a harshness to them as Bucky shook his head impatiently. “What are you going to shoot at?” He gesture toward the front windshield at the twilight scenery “Cows?”
The stocky driver shot Bucky an impatient look. “Don’t be stupid. I’m not going to blast away at nothing. As I said, I just . . . like having it around. Just in case.”
His cheeks flushing, Bucky glanced over his shoulder, b
ut the girls were still oblivious to the tense confrontation in the front seat. Leaning closer to the other boy, he muttered in a low tone, “Well, just keep it out of sight. That’s all.” He still couldn’t believe that his friend would be foolish enough to pack a deadly weapon in the van.
“Yes, Mommy.” Shaking his head impatiently, Jonathan sped up to pass a slow - moving sedan, “Brother,” he grumbled to himself as he inspected the oncoming traffic, “you city girls.”
Bucky fought back a retort. The damage was already done, he realized. Just stay low-key. There was obviously more to Jonathan than he had discovered in chemistry class. The oversized junior had a sinister side to him that was too unpredictable for Bucky’s liking.
“Hey., we’re getting hungry back here!” Tracy’s voice broke through the rock music and Bucky’s unhappy reverie.
“That ice cream wore off already?” Despite his smoldering anger, he tried to sound cheerful.
“Uh huh. Jill and I vote for some supper.”
Jonathan glanced down at his watch and frowned “Come on, you guys. We still got a long way to go. We haven’t even hit Oregon yet.”
Tracy gave an impatient little motion to Bucky, indicating that the music was too loud. Ignoring Jonathan, he reached up and eased down the volume.
“It takes just as much time to eat later as it does now,” the little redhead pointed out. “I mean, that’s a scientific fact.”
In spite of himself Bucky laughed. “She’s got you there, Shultz.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Jonathan wiped off a smudge over on Bucky’s side of the windshield. “Looks like some places to eat up there.”
Squealing the van over into the right - hand lane, he pulled off the freeway into a small complex of gas stations and fast - food restaurants. “What do you guys want?”
“Well, not junk stuff,” Jill declared. “Let’s go over there.” She pointed toward a coffee shop.
The four young people climbed out of the van and stretched their limbs. “It’s getting cold,” Tracy observed as she pulled on a sweater.
“Lock up, everybody.” Jonathan fumbled awkwardly under the front seat as Bucky and the girls began walking toward the entrance to the restaurant.
“Hurry up.” Bucky held open the door for the girls and turned to see what was delaying his friend. Carrying a tattered backpack, the other boy puffed up to him.
“Sorry. Had to get my wallet.” Inside the brightly - lit restaurant, Jonathan’s good mood seemed to return. He was a clever guy, Bucky had to admit, as he listened to the back - and - forth bantering between the boy and Tracy. Sitting on the other side, Jill suppressed a smile as she slowly devoured a chocolate milkshake.
“Well, that’s 975 more calories I’m going to have to work off,” Tracy observed as she wiped away a stray fragment of pie.
“Are you kidding?” Bucky laughed. “You must weigh all of ninety-eight pounds.”
“And half of that’s her brain.” Jonathan snickered, his owlish eyes dancing.
“Oh, ha ha.” Tracy picked up the bill. “Come on, you children. Everybody get out your money.” Without a pause she rattled off each person’s tab, including California tax and a one - fourth share of the tip.
Bucky pretended to sigh. “Maybe you’re a little too smart,” he grumbled.
The redhead snuggled closer to him and smirked. “Oh, you love it, and you know it.”
The tall boy didn’t answer, but he felt his heartbeat quicken. Despite Tracy’s overpowering intellect, she still had a perky softness about her that was beginning to make him tingle. Sitting across from the couple, Jonathan’s face suddenly seemed to reveal a trace of jealousy.
Jill heaved a big sigh as she began to dig through her purse. “We should have picked some richer guys to go out with, Tracy.” She gave Jonathan a sarcastic little glare.
He looked at her, then over at Bucky and Tracy. “You want me to pick this up for everybody?” His voice had an edge to it as he looked down at the bill.
“Sure.” Tracy laughed quietly as she nudged the slip of paper toward him.
He shifted casually in his seat. “Hey, I can get us out of here without paying at all.”
Jill wrinkled up her nose. “What are you talking about?”
Reaching down under the table Jonathan pulled his backpack free and began to tug on the zipper.
Bucky froze. A silent warning began to pound at his mind. Watch it! Without meaning to, he pulled away from Tracy and leaned across the table. “I . . .”
Jonathan licked his lips as he finished unzipping the bag. Glancing carefully around, he reached inside.
“Stop it!” Bucky blurted out the words without realizing what he was saying. Somehow the mysterious gleam in the other boy’s eyes had given away what was about to happen.
Slowly pulling the pistol free, Jonathan set it on the table and looked from one to the other, as if daring them to say anything. Tracy gave an involuntary little gasp of shock, clutching at Bucky’s shirt sleeve. “Oh no! Are you crazy?”
“Here’s our meal ticket, children.” Jonathan looked defiantly at the three of them. “You all want to pay $33.60 or just walk out of here?”
A long, ominous silence hung in the air. The other three sat in wordless amazement, staring at the jet-black weapon.
“Put that away. Right now.” Bucky tried to keep his voice even, but inside his heart was racing like a jackhammer. “I mean it, man.”
The red-haired boy gave him an impatient look. “I was just kidding around.” He glanced behind him toward the cash register. A lone clerk was accepting payment from another group of customers, but no one was within earshot.
Slipping the weapon back into the backpack, he pulled the zipper tight. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Tracy hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah.” She looked over at Bucky as if to solicit moral support. “Let’s go.”
At the counter each of the four wordlessly paid a share of the tab. Accepting his change, Bucky held open the door for the girls. “Can you believe that?” he muttered so that only Tracy could hear. She rolled her eyes and grimaced, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm as they went back to the van.
Bucky pulled open the door to the passenger area and helped her in. “Just hang on a minute,” he murmured, sliding the door back into place. He motioned with his head away from the van. “Get over here, Shultz. I gotta talk to you.”
Sighing, Jonathan ambled over to where Bucky waited for him in the darkening shadows. “Now what?” His voice revealed his returning dourness.
Bucky took a breath. “Look . . .” He hesitated, eyeing the other boy. “No more with the guns. I’m not kidding.”
Jonathan shuffled his feet impatiently. “Oh, that again?” he complained. “For heaven’s sake, Stone! I was just playin’ around.”
“I don’t care what you were doing,” Bucky retorted, his voice rising. “No more, man.”
“Oh, and says who?”
Bucky took a step forward. “I’m telling you to can it. You show that thing again and . . .” His mind raced. “I mean, once more and this trip is off. The girls and I . . .”
“It’s a long walk home.” Jonathan’s voice was equally hard now.
A long angry pause rose between them. Nearby on the freeway Bucky could hear the zip zip zip of cars going by.
“Look, Shultz.” Bucky tried to bring his temper under control. “I don’t want to have a big battle with you. I mean, really. Let’s just put the whole thing away and have a good weekend, man. We’re all friends and all.”
Jonathan said nothing, the backpack still dangling from his left hand. At last he gave a little nod. “Yeah, OK.”
The tension between the boys was still heavy as they climbed into the front of the van. Without a word Jonathan inserted the key and gunned the engine to life. Throwing the van into reverse, he wheeled out of the small parking lot and headed toward the expressway.
Bucky turned to see what the girl
s were doing. In the murky darkness he could read the curiosity written across Tracy’s face. He gave Jill a wordless little motion with his head. Jonathan, staring down the highway, edged the van up toward eighty miles an hour again.
Trading places with the dark-haired girl, he slipped into the seat next to Tracy. “What was that all about?” she murmured in a low voice. “Sounded kind of lively from here.”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
She slipped closer to him. “You boys and your little weapons.”
Without quite knowing why, he reached out and took her hand. The turmoil of the argument at the restaurant had left him shaken. He forced thoughts of Lisa from his mind for the moment. I’ll figure that out later!
The next two hours went by without event. Conversation between the front and back seats was minimal, especially with the ever - present beat of the nearest pop station or tunes from Jonathan’s iPod jarring through four speakers. However, Jonathan’s resentment slowly began to melt and by the time the van pulled into a service station in Eugene, Oregon, he was joking with Jill again.
“At least gas is cheaper up here than at Hampton,” he grumbled to Bucky, sounding his good - natured self.
“We gonna try to stay somewhere here tonight?’
Jonathan scratched his head. “Yeah, I guess. It’s gettin’ late, and here’s as good as Portland. If we get a decent start in the morning, we’ll make it to the game no sweat.”
“Where shall we stay?”
Jonathan reached out and pulled the gas pump handle free, wincing as he noticed the tally on the pump. “Cheap motel, I guess. I’ll ask the cashier where’s good.”
“Two rooms instead of one,” Bucky observed. “Even then, it’s going to be more than I thought.”
“I know.” Pulling his wallet out, Jonathan fished for a bill. “Can you help me with $10 here? Like I said, we’ll get more when we get up to Seattle.”
A few minutes later they wheeled out of the brightly lit station. “Lady said that about a mile ahead there’s a couple of motels that aren’t too bad. Past the second light.”
In the back seat Bucky looked at Tracy. “Getting tired?”
Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10) Page 67
