Sheridan nodded yes. She was wearing a blue jumper and lace up shoes. Her homework and reading were in her backpack. Because she was staying at the Eagle Mountain Club, she had to take a different bus from a different place than she was used to and the bus was always late. She was the only child who got on in Saddlestring for the long ride.
'Mom is waiting for me to get off the bus,' Sheridan said.
'Okay, okay. But at least come closer,' the man said, still smiling. 'So I don't have to yell.'
Sheridan stepped up to the road but kept well back of the window. She was cautious, and her legs felt ready to run. Because the man would have to leap across the passenger seat and through the window, she thought she could easily get away if she needed to. Now that she was up on the road with him, she could see him a little better, and she could see clearly into his car. Her insides were knotted. Sheridan felt as if she might get sick and throw up. She had not been able to stop thinking about this man ever since he had pulled her into the stall, and now he was here again, right in front of her. He seemed so nice, but he had said such horrible things. And he looked at her like she was something special to him, as if by sharing the secret, they were somehow close to each other. She had never thought about any grown man in these terms before. It frightened her and made her feel
guilty.
Without being obvious, she tried to steal a look down the road in both directions.
'There's nobody coming,' the man said, an edge creeping into his voice.
'What's the matter, don't you trust me to stay put? You think I'm going to grab you or something?'
She didn't reply. In her imagination, her dad's pickup had appeared on the top of the hill and was getting closer.
'If you were a couple years older, I probably couldn't stay put,' the man laughed. 'But you're safe for now.' His voice dropped. 'Unless of course you don't want to be so safe.'
Sheridan turned her head, so he wouldn't see how scared she was.
'Let's make this quick so we can get on our way,' the man said, his voice serious now. 'How did you get those little weasels to come out of the wood pile?'
Sheridan said she tossed handfuls of food on the top of the pile. Like rain.
'What kind of food?'
Dry cereal, she said. Raisins, nuts, bread, sometimes bits of hamburger.
'And you just sort of sprinkled it on top, huh?' He asked. 'Did they come out every time?'
No, they didn't, she said. Not every time.
The man seemed to be thinking about something. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could tell they were glaring at her behind the glasses.
'Sheridan, are there any secrets you're keeping from me?' Sheridan went cold.
'No,' she lied. She hoped to God he wouldn't ask her if she knew where the weasels were now, because she wasn't sure she could answer him without showing she was lying. But he didn't ask, and like most grownups, he thought he knew everything.
'We've still got a deal, don't we, darling'?'
Sheridan nodded, relieved they were off the subject.
'A deal is a deal.'
'You bet it is,' he said slowly as he reached and pushed the silver button that held the glove box closed. The cover dropped open. There was something in the glove box.
'Look,' he commanded, in a voice that made her obey.
She couldn't see it very well. The glove box was dark, but there was something round and white in the corner of it. It was something about the size of his fist, but wrapped in red-stained white paper that looked wet.
He snapped the cover shut before she could see any better.
His voice was almost a whisper: 'Have you ever seen a kitty's head after it's been twisted off, Sheridan? When you twist it, the neck breaks and it sounds like when you crack your knuckles.'
Sheridan stepped back, nearly falling. She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified.
'That,' he pointed toward the glove box, 'could happen to someone you know real well unless you keep our secret just between us.'
Sheridan found herself backing away from the truck, wanting to be as far away from what lay in the glove box as possible.
'If I can't get those weasels out, you might have to help me,' the man said.
'Maybe you can talk weasel language to them or something. I don't know.'
He started up the motor. His voice rose as the engine raced. 'Take it easy, darling'. Wish me luck with those weasels!'
***
The man pulled away and drove down the road. He watched in his rearview mirror as the yellow school bus cleared the hill behind them and began to slow down for the girl. She was moving toward it. The bus door swung open, and the little girl in the blue dress disappeared from his sight. She was a cutie, that Sheridan. He leaned over and opened the glove box and reached inside. The package was still warm, and the paper greasy. He peeled away the wrapper with his teeth. He took a big bite out of it, and dollops of ketchup spattered in his lap.
It was a triple chili cheeseburger from the Burg-O-Pardner on Main. Damn, it was good. That place could sure
