Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Less than an hour into my drive home, the sky turns black, and the rain comes down in sheets instead of drops. Like everyone else, I turn the sound down so I can concentrate on the lights in front of me. Visibility is almost zero and it would make sense for me to pull over and wait the storm out, except I have no idea where I am, and my dad always told me pull off in well-lit areas.
Nothing is well lit at the moment.
I continue on, keeping my car a good distance behind the one in front of me, gripping the steering wheel as if my life depends on it each time a semi speeds past me, splashing copious amounts of water onto my car.
“Asshole!” I think about honking my horn, but what good would that do? Absolutely nothing. I’ve always said trucks shouldn’t be allowed to go over the speed limit. In fact, they should have to drive ten under.
I’m another hour in when I have to stop for gas. The rain has let up a bit, but it’s still coming down steadily. After filling up, I park and head into the store for snacks and to use the restroom.
“There’s a tree down about five miles north of here,” the clerk says. “They should have the detour up soon.”
“I should be able to turn off before I get there,” I tell the clerk for no other reason than to make polite conversation. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Back in my car, I open my Coke and bag of chips before backing out of the parking lot and driving toward the on ramp. My wipers are on full blast, making it hard to see each sign that comes into view. When the first one mentions Mobile, I signal and turn off toward that direction. There is less traffic on this road and I’m a bit more comfortable. With that, I tell Doris to turn my book on so I can find out who the murderer is in this series I’ve been listening to.
When my book cuts in and out, I do the most logical thing ever and hit my dashboard. My grandpa used to hit the side of the TV—or boob tube as he called it back in his day—to get the color straight. From what I recall, he had that TV until the day he passed, and it was still working. Now, we get a good five years out of our electronics before they need to be upgraded to the next latest and greatest smart whatever.
Yet, my book cuts out again and Doris doesn’t do anything but show me she’s working on trying to honor my request. I try to keep one eye on the road and the other on my phone while I drag the screen down.
“Crap,” I mutter when I see that I have zero bars.
The thump comes out of nowhere and it doesn’t do me any good to look in my mirrors because it’s too dark out. The moment I feel the lean in my car, I know.
I try to remain as calm as possible as I pull over along the side of the road. With my hazard lights on, I get out and run as fast as I can to the other side and look at my rear tire.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I kick the flat rubber and instantly regret it as a pain radiates from my toes up my leg. “Why?” I ask as I look at the sky.
More rain falls on me, leaving me no choice but to wait the storm out in my car.
fifteen
wade
The cold Coke goes down easily. I need the caffeine boost after the day I’ve had. Playing catch-up from the jobs I had to send others to do on the day the sprinkler broke at the school has wreaked havoc on my schedule. While all my clients are part of Jenkins Landscaping, I have my personal clients. There are people from my early days who prefer me over one of my guys. I get it. It’s no different than someone having a favorite hairdresser. You like what you like.
My last job finished under the downpour. I actually used the rain to my advantage to not only fill the rain buckets for Mrs. Beasen’s garden, but the soggy yard made it easy for me to dig the holes needed for her new hedgerow. She’s my only client this far out of town and the only reason I am her landscaper is because she used to work for my dad, and he used to bring me out to her house every Sunday after church to mow her lawn. She tried to offer me dinner for my troubles, but with my wet clothes and wanting to get home to Goldie, I politely declined.