Chapter 7: Add One to Lost Non-Statistics

Stephanie avoids wishing Slim farewell. Refuses to say goodbye. He broke her heart. Abandoned her. Has no room for her, he said. So be-it. It’s his truck and his life, and if there’s no place for her in either? Then let Slim suffer remorse because of it. She will force him to be remorseful! Love hurts! She will show him just how much it can hurt. Leave her? No, no, no, this not going to go according to his dictates. He doesn’t get to set her down, an unnecessary encumbrance to be recovered another day, and go blithely on his way. She won’t allow, won’t accept being treated so trashy. She is the dumper, not the one in the dumpster. Leaving him instead is just retribution!

HER TURN TO BE COLD-HEARTED! He’ll be real sorry when he returns and finds her long gone. This romance goes and finishes Stephanie’s way, but ... which way is that? She thinks hard. Where can, where does she go? Obviously only one reasonable answer. Return to the Franklin’s farm.

They’ll welcome her, because they didn’t want her to leave in the first place. They hoped she and Morgan would eventually pair up, become a couple. They were too obvious about it. Whenever they looked at her, they turned and looked at Morgan next, then her, then Morgan, mentally measuring them for a fit. Ha! Well, why not? Morgan is fourteen, and cute. A year and some months older than herself, a conventional age difference. Maybe may be?

PROBLEMS. The Franklin family has vehicles and fuel, and so possibly could come to collect her, if they’re willing. To be valued high enough, wanted enough, for them to expend the time and fuel to rescue her, would be a salve to her bruised ego. Do they actually think enough of her, to really come? Their farm is a long days travel away. Time and fuel are irreplaceable. Fuel is very limited in quantity, and no chance of resupply. Only asking will produce an answer. Phone? She recalls the Franklins have a working phone. Can a connection be reached from the park phones to the Franklin’s house?

Two more problems. Assuming she eventually gets invited to live with the Franklins, Morgan’s sister, Skeet, looks at her differently than Morgan’s parents did. Hard to read, not unfriendly, Skeet’s eyes are calculating, sort of challenging? Competitive, not threatening, but with a warning, don’t hurt Morgan. A possessive mother’s protective look. Formidable woman, Skeet could scuttle any chance Stephanie may have, just at her whim. Tom highly regards his daughters advice, and Morgan literally worships her. Stephanie must win her as an allied friend, or failure is inevitable. As enemy, Stephanie would be doomed to disaster, and would need to seek an elsewhere to live.

The other problem, Alma is only an annoying gnat in comparison with Skeet. Swat or trap her. Never mind. Skeet will run interference with Alma. If Stephanie maybe isn’t good enough, Alma’s definitely is an undesirable match for Morgan. Why didn’t Cappy take Alma? He seems to like young ones. Maybe teen Alma isn’t young enough, already too old! What a Hoot! Would be, if baby Susan weren’t Cappy’s preferred victim. And with him.

“Feeling better, Stephanie? Feel like trying to eat again? The first time didn’t stick to your ribs. Eat slow this time, a small amount, then let it settle in a bit. Eat more later, if you want? I know. Emotional upset caused you to lose your first lunch. Wolfing it down the way you did, only helped. Come, sit, I’ll chat at you while you eat. Both will be good for you.” Isi pats a chair, and invites.

“How long is the trip?” Mr Smith asks Slim.

“For us now, from the park to the new capital at Gothenburg, Nebraska, is roughly750 miles. It was only a proposed 677 mile trip when we departed Franklin’s farm. We completed about 200 miles of that leg, when we had to divert to Yellowstone, adding on a three hundred mile detour. Add the current 750 mile we face together, approximately1200 miles total wear on the truck.”

“I’m truly sorry, Slim.” Mr Smith sounds sincere.

“Why should you be sorry, Mr. Smith? How is this your fault? Apology not accepted. It’s unnecessary and unwarranted.” Slim grins. Removes any sting.

“I apologize for usurping your brides place in the honeymoon truck.”

Slim rolls his window down, and Mr. Smith his. Prior to getting underway, Cappy unclipped the upper berth and covered the foot-well area with it, as a bunk extension for the lower. Ann, Susan, and Cappy now share a larger more comfortable lower double bed, with generous headroom. A light blocker curtain is being currently used as a privacy screen between the cab and bunk.

The sudden raw odor of sex funk, necessitated lowering the cabs windows.

“Have you zero consideration for others, Cappy? We don’t deserve having to smell you rutting. You should wait until you have a private room for this kind of shit! Didn’t you get enough earlier, in your room? I’m tempted to turn around, and dump you three off at the lodge. Pick up Stephanie instead. Hated leaving her behind, and in fact, you know what?” Slim is grim.

Slim didn’t quite stand on the brake, but braked abruptly and swung around in a fast, tight cornering turn.

“That is exactly what I’m doing. Sorry Mr Smith. Another necessary detour, to correct an injustice.” Slim’s jaw sticks out like the bow ram on a Roman trireme. Cappy complains he’s promised in his contract, transportation back to where he parked and stored his ultralight aircraft, at Gothenburg.

“Take it up with the signatories to the contract, Cappy. I never agreed to such foolishness, guaranteeing transportation anywhere! Wasn’t asked to agree to your contract. Signed nothing!” Slim, in case you fail to intuit, is MAD!