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I did what turned out to be the smartest thing I could have done. I fainted dead away.
14. The Prodigal Son Returns to the Fold
THE NEXT THING I KNEW, I WAS LYING STRETCHED OUT in the ditch with three heads hovering over me, blocking out the sun.
"He not dead! He not dead!" Elliot was hollering over the roar of the motor as I came around.
"No, but he's been hurt." The lady was examining my bandage. Pa's garden hat was in her hand. "We're terribly sorry," she said to me. "My husband had no intention—"
"What were you doing wandering out alone in your condition?" the man demanded. "Where are your parents that they'd let you..." Abruptly, he turned from me to Elliot. "And you, who are you? And what were you doing in my motorcar?" He looked at Elliot, not pitying like most people do, but furious. "Why, you little—You must have climbed in when we stopped at the store. I knew we shouldn't stop."
"Shh, Oliver, not now, please. The child's been hurt." She fanned my face with Pa's hat. "Feeling any better?" she asked.
I nodded. It seemed wise not to recover too quickly.
"Well, on your feet, then," the man said. "I suppose we'll have to take you home." He looked at Elliot. "Both of you."
Elliot looked at me, a troubled expression clouding his face. "But dey bad—" he muttered.
"It's all right, Elliot," I whispered quickly. "The bad fellers were in a different car. This one's fine."
The woman helped me to my feet. Elliot tried to dust my knickers and stockings, but I brushed away his hand. I didn't want to try the man's patience further by keeping him waiting.
Between Elliot and the lady, I managed to climb up into the back seat. Elliot clambered up after me and made to crouch down between the seats. "It's okay, Elliot. You can ride the rest of the way on the seat by me."
"Where do you boys live, then?" the driver asked once we were all settled in the motorcar.
"Tyler," I said.
Elliot poked me in the ribs. "Robbie," he whispered. "Da's a lie."
I ignored him. "Tyler," I said louder.
"Both of you?"
"We're brothers," I said. Elliot grinned proudly.
"Where on God's earth is Tyler?" the man asked.
"Straight down this road, sir." I mouthed the word Pa at Elliot. He nodded solemnly. "Just a little way." The driver craned around and gave me a look. I didn't blink, so he eased forward.
The road to Tyler is bumpy and dusty, but I hardly noticed. I felt like I had hitched a ride in Elijah's chariot on a straight path to the Pearly Gates. I was riding in a motorcar! The one thing I had wanted most to do before the world went bust, and God had let me do it. Moreover, God hadn't given me just a ride, He had provided a saving help in my time of trouble. The Reverend Pelham could have his white robes and golden crowns and choirs of angels; I was in Heaven already.
I grabbed Elliot's hand. "Can you believe it, Elliot? You and me? We're riding in a genuine motorcar!"
"Is dat good?"
"It's a miracle!" I yelled over the racket of the motor. "A genuine miracle!"
"Wheeee!" cried Elliot. Then he leaned over and kissed my hand.
And do you know? From that very moment I stopped all pretense of being an apeist and signed on as a true believer for all eternity. How could I not? God had worked a personal miracle especially for me.
The main street of Leonardstown becomes, at the town limits, the Tyler road, and roughly ten miles later, Main Street, Tyler. By the time less than half those miles had rolled under the rubber wheels, our driver was getting audibly impatient. Seems they were trying to get to Burlington and had no idea how they had got on this "back road to nowhere." I couldn't see why anyone would complain. We were whizzing (well, rattling is more accurate) down the road by at least fifteen miles an hour. Tyler is hardly more than fifty miles from Burlington. He'd be there before suppertime. I kept my observations to myself.
I can't tell you how it saddened me to reach the city limits. No matter that every rock and rut along the way jarred my poor brain against my pitiful skull; I wanted to go on riding in that heavenly chariot forever. When I saw the courthouse, however, I pulled myself together. Duty demanded it.
"Right here," I said. "Thank you for the ride."
