When he came to a small clearing in the trees, he stopped and looked at the isolated encampment under the moonlight. It appeared such an innocuous-seeming spot, a soft, ghostly evening mist swirling in and around the shanties and the pines surrounding it. He couldn’t hardly believe he was getting to leave. He’d expected to remain stuck there for some time, his debts mounting. Instead, thanks to Peewee, he was free to go. A little smile relaxed his features as he strode through the grassy savanna, the sense of his liberation flowing through every muscle and bone in his body, like being released from the grip of the corn. The moon rose higher, and he absorbed the furtive noises he heard to his left and right, night creatures out like him.
He walked for hours, until the skyline began to turn pink. It would be another hot day, but it wouldn’t be the kind of hot brought on by toil, or the rush to make numbers, or from hustling along under the pines in order to tally calls. Once again, he answered to no one and he could stop when he wanted, only he had no wish to do so. He was eager to keep moving. He tried not to think about Rae Lynn. Tried not to have any regrets. He was only fooling himself, but he tried.
Around midday, as the sun rose above the trees, he found a quiet spot with a small running stream nearby. He believed he’d made good progress. He was in his element, the area remote, with nary a soul in sight. He sat under a pine, eating his usual travel fare of cheese, crackers, and Vienna sausages and while doing so, he pulled out the piece of paper Peewee had given him. He unfolded it and read Peewee’s hectic scrawl: Come see me sometime. No work involved. We’ll go fishing. Best, Pritchard Taylor, Rt. 2, Woodbine, Georgia.
Del folded the piece of paper and tucked it back into his pocket. He’d write to him once he was back home. At the creek, he dipped his tin cup in, drank his fill, and when he was done, he started off again, walking down the middle of the wide dirt road, the main thoroughfare from west to east. Over the next hour, he passed needy souls working dry, crumbly fields filled with poorly growing beans or tobacco. He encountered only one vehicle, unfortunately going the opposite direction or he’d have stuck his thumb out. A ramshackle house or two came into view here and there, adding a bit of interest to the flat countryside. At one such house, a young boy sat under a pecan tree, a fat puppy lolling nearby. The kid waved and the puppy jumped up and barked. Del waved back. Red dust settled on the tops of his boots, while the peace and quiet settled his mind.
If only . . .
Before he could think her name, he pushed the thought away.
The afternoon was soon gone, and now the sun sat behind him, skimming the treetops. It was time to finally stop, and it wasn’t too soon; he could tell he needed the rest. He kept on while searching for something that suited him for the night. He’d hoped to first pass a small store where he could buy a cold drink as a nice end to a hot day. About the time he’d decided he was going to have to make some sort of decision about where to sleep, a squat, square building with a sign cropped up in the distance. That just might be the store he’d been looking out for. He pressed on, and as he came closer, as luck would have it, it turned out to be a Conoco filling station. A Pepsi was going to be possible after all.
As he approached, he noticed a truck parked in front. It looked awfully familiar. No matter where Rae Lynn and Cornelia chose to go, they’d have come this way as it was the only main highway. Still, what an extraordinary coincidence if it was hers, because while he’d come some thirty miles or so, they should’ve crossed into South Carolina a long time ago. He walked around it and noticed a gaping hole in the radiator. Hadn’t Peewee said her truck had a radiator problem? The bell on the door jingled as it opened, and out came Rae Lynn and Cornelia. The surprise on their faces matched his own. He touched a finger to the brim of his hat.
“Ladies.”
Cornelia was the first to speak. “I can’t hardly get over this. Why, if it ain’t Del Reese! Look, Rae Lynn, it’s Del Reese! Ain’t we glad to see you!”
Del grinned and said, “Likewise.”
Rae Lynn smiled back, at least.
She pointed at the hole in the radiator and said, “It didn’t take no time for it to overheat. We brung along some extra water that got used up quick. We only just made it here and been sitting here most of the night and day.”
It was the most Del had ever heard her say.
He said, “Can’t they fix it?”
“Ain’t got the part. He’d have to order it,” and she indicated with a tilt of her head, the store behind them.
“Where were y’all headed?”
Neither answered, and Del felt bad for them because it was obvious neither one knew. The owner came out, an old man with white hair, his face the color of a pecan from years in the sun. His hands were jammed in the pockets of his overalls, and his lower lip was packed with snuff.
He said, “Shame I ain’t got what they need. It would take days to get that part here. We ain’t got much in the way a nothing round here, as you can see. Takes a while to get things, don’t cha know.”
Del said, “I imagine so.”
He squatted by the front of the truck and poked at the radiator.
“There’s some waxy sort of stuff on this grill.”
Rae Lynn said, “It was a chunk of soap. I reckon it dried up sitting under that shed in the heat and fell out.”
Del said, “I have soap.”
The station owner said, “Now ain’t that a stroke a luck? They asked fer that too, but it ain’t something I carry.”
Rae Lynn’s face lit up. “You do?”
Cornelia chimed in. “Thank the heavens.”
Del slung his pack off his shoulder and untied it. He withdrew a bar of Fels-Naptha, brand-new, still wrapped in paper.
“This’ll fix it right up.”
Rae Lynn followed him to the front of the truck. “Thank you.”
He pulled out his pocketknife and cut out a chunk, then crammed it into the hole. He stepped back to eyeball his handiwork.
“That ought to do it for a bit.”
Rae Lynn turned to the station owner. “Can we get some water?”
“Sure thing.”
He took their jug and went out back. He returned with it full, and after the water was added, Rae Lynn slid into the driver’s seat and went through the steps to crank the engine. It started, no problem. She turned to Del and gave him a brilliant smile. His heart keeled right over, and didn’t get up. It lay inside his chest panting in the manner of a dog trying to cool off. She sure got to him in a way no other woman had. He made himself break eye contact, thinking, Lord, but she’s pretty.
Facing Cornelia, he said, “It sounds fine.”
She grabbed his hand and pumped it up and down. “Thank you so, so much.”
He said, “You’re welcome.”
She let his hand go, then no one moved.
“Reckon you might ought to top her off?” the owner asked.
Del said, “Y’all got money?”
The women looked at each other and at the same time said, “Yes.”
The owner motioned for Rae Lynn to move the truck over to the pump. Del waited while the pumping went on, worried about them driving out of his life for a second time. The owner pocketed the money handed over by Cornelia, and it gave Del an idea.
The owner said, “If nobody cares, I’ll be closing up now. Lessen y’all need something else?”
Del could have stood that cold drink, but he didn’t want to miss the opportunity to somehow stick together. The women shook their heads. The owner gave a little wave, went inside, pulled the shade, and flipped his OPEN sign to CLOSED.
Rae Lynn got out to stand with Cornelia, who said, “Where you headed?
Both stared at him curiously.
He took his chances and said, “Home to see my sister. Listen, if you’d consider giving me a ride, I’d be glad to pay for the gas from here on out. I know she’d welcome y’all to stay until you know what you want to do.”
Cornelia said, “Why, that’s mighty generous of you. Rae Lynn, what do you think?”
Rae Lynn paused, then said, “Where’s your sister’s?”
“North Carolina.”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head vigorously.
“Thank you, but no.”
Cornelia said, “Oh. Oh my.”
He frowned. The call name Rae Lynn had used was Tar Heel.
“Where’d you say you were from again?”
She avoided looking at him and didn’t answer. He could’ve sworn she’d said South Carolina back at Swallow Hill, but he’d had a suspicion it wasn’t the truth. Del backed off, held his hands up, palms out.
“Never mind. It was just an idea.”
Cornelia said, “It was real kind of you to offer. I think it’s a good idea, seeing as we have no other options.”
Rae Lynn spoke again.