Chapter 5

The ride was peaceful. After he left Binghamton and crossed into Pennsylvania the towns began to become smaller and farther apart. The low mountains had a light blanket of snow under the trees and traffic seemed light for afternoon. Roger had stayed longer than he would have liked in Binghamton but he had to make sure that everything was taken care of before he resumed his travels.

For a while it seemed like the area was sparsely populated but, as he got closer to Scranton the towns became closer together and as he neared Scranton he decided to stop and get something to eat before he started looking for a motel. It would be dark in a couple of hours and he preferred to travel during the day when he could see the countryside. He also didn't know how many motels were between Scranton and Harrisburg, his next stop.

A light rain started to fall. The temperature had hovered around forty all afternoon and a slight breeze made sure that you felt the cold go right through you. Shortly after he passed the ramp to Clark Summit he saw a car pulled off the road. The car appeared to be one of the old Toyotas, boxy and small. He guessed that it was about late eighties vintage and had definitely seen better days. There was a woman standing next to the car with her head in her arms on the hood of the car and she was apparently crying. Roger saw that she had only a sweater on; she was definitely not dressed for this type of weather.

Roger checked the traffic around him and pulled off of the road and coaster to a stop in front of the woman. He put the truck I reverse and backed up to within a couple of feet of the old Toyota. He grabbed the umbrella from under the seat and pulled the small throw blanket from the back seat. As he got out of the car the woman raised her head and looked at him warily. The woman looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She murmured something about being Ok, as he approached her, and tried the avoid letting him see that she had been crying. Roger saw that she was shivering so hard that she could hardly talk. He threw the cover over her shoulders and pulled her under the umbrella. Her eyes mirrored her fear and he loosened his grip on her arm.

"Please don't be afraid," he said, " I just saw that you were apparently having car trouble and I thought that I could be of some help. Besides, you're not dressed for being outside in this mess."

Her fear seemed to ease a bit but she still seemed like she would run at the first hint that he would do her harm, "I'm sorry. The car just died on me and I just didn't know what to do. I'll be Ok. You don't have to stay here; the State Police will be by soon. They'll get my car towed off of the road."

"Let's get out of the rain," Roger said, "The truck is warmed up and you need to get some heat back into your bones."

He saw that she wasn't about to get in the truck with him, "Look, I'll put the keys on the hood until the State Police get here. There's no way that I could do anything funny and hold you while I get out of the truck and get my keys."

She started to smile a little, "I'm sorry. I guess... well, so much has been happening lately that I guess I'm a bit gun shy. I do need to get warmed up."

They started for the pickup. Roger didn't attempt to open the door for her as he thought that she might become afraid that he would try something. He got in the pickup, reached over and pulled on the door handle to unlock her door and started the truck.

"Can you call the State Police by dialing pound 77?" he asked.

She nodded and he handed her his cell phone, "You do it. You know this area better than I do."

She dialed the emergency number and told the dispatcher where her car was and then hung up and handed the phone back to him. He plugged the phone in to the cigarette lighter charger.

He saw the tears had started again and he reached for the tin of cookies that Ethyl had handed him as he left their house, "How about some cookies? A friend of mine in Binghamton gave them to me. I guess she was afraid that I would starve to death on the road."

She flashed him a weak smile at his poor excuse at humor. When she saw that he wasn't going to pull the tin back from in front of her until she took a cookie, she took one and took a small bit out of it. They sat for a while in silence while they waited for help to arrive for her car.

"My name is Roger Bostic," he said in an effort to get her to loosen up.

"Janice Siemens," she said in a small voice.

Just then a pickup pulled in front of them and slid to a halt. The driver had pulled off of the road way too fast and the truck slid about fifty feet before coming to a stop. The truck was tricked out with thousands of dollars worth of after-market equipment and sat high above the road. Roger saw that the driver had lifted the truck as high as the law would allow. Although the truck looked gaudy, Roger guessed that the driver probably treated the truck better than he did his kids.