Chapter 9

Karen

I can’t believe he’s doing it.

“Okay, the house rent is paid, this card is for expenses; coal, gas for the lawn tractor, new tires for the Mazda and the Jeep ... and insurance.” He hands me a MasterCard in my name. “This is for food, gas, and clothing and a night out every now and again.” That got a Visa. “And this is for emergencies.” He passed me the combination to the under bed gun box. He gave me the directions how to set the box for palm print. “And this is for fun,” the key to the gun cabinet. “There’s a crew coming out to replace all the windows with triple pane and the wood doors with metal. Get good grades.

“Have fun ... I never thought I was adopting a daughter when I picked up that scruffy hitch hiker. I’d better get going while I still can.” He shouldered a duffle, picked up a suitcase and walked ... fast ... down the walk to the gate.

There was a car and driver waiting in the drive. He tossed his luggage in the trunk, got in the backseat and was gone ... no wave good bye ... gone.

I wonder if I’ll miss him. Time will tell.

I immediately opened the gun box. The heavy and hard to shoot Colt 1911 was gone. In its place was a Colt Model 1908 in .380. I could shoot it.

Following his directions I changed his print for mine. There was an envelope. KAREN. Open Immediately.

I did ... there was a strap of hundreds in the envelope, Ten thousand dollars. Along with the money there was a jewelers presentation box with a small silver ring with an uncut sapphire stone. The craggy stone was a deep blue. God, that’s pretty. I put the ring in the case and back in the lockbox with the strap. I have cards.

I took the Cosmo to Continental Tire and got it new shoes, I checked the serial numbers on the tires with the numbers on the paperwork. They matched.

Then I took it to Shell and watched while they did the annual. Shell was the only service station in Sheridan that would let us watch them change the oil and filter. The worker showed me the belts and the brake pads ... and I agreed they both need replacement. I watched as he checked and filled what needed filled. I checked the tightness of the radiator cap and peeked in the brake cylinder when he did.

“Well? What do you think?”

“You done good,” I said, and handed him the MasterCard.

My stomach announced its presence.

One would not think that there would be FIVE star dining in such a Podunk as Sheridan ... but there is. The Italianate has five stools at the bar and three tables ... and a four year reservation wait for a table. Seriously ... four years!

The House is a former hotel, whore house, with a multi million dollar Federal Restoration Grant. The ground floor is the restaurant ... the top three floors are swank apartments with history.

And then there’s the Wagon Box in Story. Steaks.

All I wanted was a burger. The Mint ... it’s a bar ... but. The perfect place for a half pounder dressed out with the works and overdone fries ... and cowboys. Hey ... I’m seventeen. One thing though ... I stay away from the boys at the ranch. Their mom has plans.

OH GOD! that was good. I am absolutely NOT a lady. I ate every crumb and used half a bottle of catsup on the fries.

Now I want a nap but I have re ... spons ... i ... bilities.

So ... the Mazda wended its way out Soldier Creek past the hospital and Water Treatment Plant ... and the rusted out pile that is a 1953 Buick convertible in the ditch ... almost to the mountains ... to Wolf Creek and home ... and it is ... home. I parked the Cosmo ... such a classy ride ... and fired up my Jeep.

Back to town. Tires, oil change, complete lube job, brakes, hubs repacked. New lubricant front, transmission, transfer case and rearend. This is rather more than the Mazda. Tilly ... my Jeep ... is 11 years old and I’m gonna need her come fall.

I need to do something with the wreck in the garage.

What on earth made you think of that?

Well, you do.