Page 6 of Believe in Caloosa Springs

I stifled a laugh and walked back to shove my bags inside. “You didn’t bring anything,” I called up, surprised to see the trunk empty.

“I threw my things in the back seats to make room for your stuff.”

“I appreciate that.”

I ducked down into the passenger's seat and looked over at Henry, who had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

“You know, we haven’t even started driving yet,” I offered.

Henry ignored my poke. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I shook my head. “No, but we better make a decision one way or another. Or it’s going to be made for us.”

Henry whipped his head around to stare at me, his crystal-blue eyes as wide as a saucer. “What do you mean?”

I looked down at my wristwatch. “Our bus leaves in 11 minutes. If we’re not on it, I guess the choice has been made, hasn’t it?”

Henry turned to look at the windshield again.

“Nice car, by the way,” I offered.

“Thanks.”

“How much did it set us back?”

“Nine hundred.”

“That’s it?”

“I wouldn’t get too excited. It burns oil like crazy. I have to put a quart in every other day.”

“Will it make it?”

Henry shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Are we doing this, then?”

Henry pulled a shuddery breath, and nodded slowly. “Yeah, cousin, we are. I-” Henry stopped to clear his throat, “I don’t want to live like that for the rest of my life.”

“Me neither.”

Henry turned the key, and, after a few scratchy seconds and a sputter or two, the car’s engine roared to life. After looking both ways, Henry turned his blinker on and pulled out into the travel lane. He followed the white arrows painted on the concrete below, leading us towards the exit off the parking structure.

“We for sure have jobs and a place to stay, right,” I asked Henry, as he inserted his parking ticket into the pay machine.

“Yeah. I talked to a guy named Tyler this morning and confirmed everything. He said, and I quote, ‘We’ll see y’all in the mornin’; drive safe, now.”

I chuckled at Henry’s poor attempt at a country accent. “Sounds friendly enough.”

Henry pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet and fed it to the machine, prompting the bar in front of the bumper to rise and allow us passage into our new lives.

“You mail your letter?” Henry asked, turning on his signal before pulling out onto the road.

“No. Mom was all over me most of the day. I couldn’t sneak out this morning. I figured I’ll drop it in a mailbox somewhere along the way. You get the phones?”

Henry nodded. “Yours is in the console. The number’s taped to the box.”

“How much was that?”

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