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No answer. Benny thought for a minute maybe Juice had ducked out the back door and escaped. He tried not to think about what that would mean. Him alone here with the big, brown man.
He didn’t move. He didn’t want the man to see him. To hear him breathe even. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying.I want Mr. Daniel. Please. Mr. Daniel.
Juice rolled across the floor into the doorway, sprang to his feet, and opened fire. An explosion of gunfire burst all around Benny. He collapsed into a ball. He tried to make himself small. He wanted to disappear up against the woodwork of the wall. The smell of smoke and guns filled the air. The spatter of bullets pinged against walls.
The big, brown man screamed cuss words. His mouth flew open wide in surprise. Red splotches grew on the front of his T-shirt.
Benny wanted to squeeze his eyes shut but they seemed frozen wide open, staring at the red color ballooning over the front of the shirt.
The big, brown man teetered, then stumbled forward in his black combat boots. Benny stared at the boots. They were untied.He’s gonna fall.Then the big brown man did it. He fell. Right next to Benny. Screams tore from his throat. He bucked, trying to get away.
Loud sobs punctuated with hiccups filled the sudden silence. Benny tried to stop, but he couldn’t. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t move.
A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled. He rolled over onto his stomach, knees pulled up under him, not wanting to get up. Not ever.
A slap connected with the back of his head. “Get up, boy. We gotta go.” Juice’s voice, high and breathless, shook. “Now,chiquito, I ain’t got time to mess with you. Get up.”
Benny let the hand pull him up. He didn’t want to stay on the floor with the big, brown man staring at him with eyes that didn’t close.
Better to go with Juice.
Juice dragged him to the back of the car. The trunk again. “No, please. Please don’t put me in there.” His lips were swollen thick, making his words sound muffled.
“Ain’t got no choice,chiquito. You be safe in there.”
Bags of clothes and groceries crowded the backseat of the car. The clothes were stuffed into paper bags like someone was in a hurry. No room for him. “I promise to be good. Please let me sit up front with you.”
Juice’s face twisted in a snarl. “Shut up and get in,m’ijo. You ain’t getting the chance to do something stupid. No sir. Get in. I ain’t got time to mess around.Vámanos!”
Juice grabbed Benny by the seat of his pants and hoisted him into the trunk. His nose hit the bottom. Blood spurted out. A second later, he tasted it. The trunk banged shut. Darkness again. Benny almost liked it now. The dark seemed safe.
Safer than out there.
Chapter Nineteen
Abilene, Kansas
Esperanza Dodge dropped to her knees on the sidewalk in front of the grocery store and tried to grab the cans of beans rolling toward the street. The sack had been too heavy for her and then the brown paper had given away at the bottom, sending cans hurtling in all directions. Momma would kill her. Esperanza would die right here in front of the Abilene IGA, across from the public library. The bottle of pickles had broken, filling the humid morning air with the smell of dill and vinegar. The juice soaked into the hem of her jeans, making an ugly wet patch.
“You clumsy cow.” Momma’s sharp whisper sent fear scurrying through Esperanza. Her long shadow blotted out the sun, making the fall morning go dark around Esperanza.
Estrella stood frozen next to Momma, that funny look on her face that she always got when she was trying not to cry.. Dom set his bag on the ground. Momma’s fingers wrapped around his skinny arm. “No. She made the mess, she cleans it up. No child of mine could be that clumsy. Get that stuff picked up. Now.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Dodge.” Another long shadow met, mingled with Momma’s. The man towered over them, his belly hanging over a belt that had a gun holster on it. His hand rested on the gun. Esperanza risked a look at his face. He wasn’t smiling. She scurried after a can of peaches that had rolled all the way to the curb. The man chewed on a toothpick, a strange fierce look on his face as he stared at her momma.
He had on a uniform and the patch on his pocket said Sheriff’s Office. He reached for a can. “Let me help you with that, sweetheart. Look’s like you’re gonna need another sack. This one’s got a big old hole in it. Those pickles smell mighty good don’t they? Shame they ended up on the ground.”
“Dom, run in and get another bag. Now. And come right back, you hear me.” Momma’s voice had that dangerous note in it. She didn’t like for anyone to pay attention to them. She was so afraid. AfraidPapimight find them. “Thank you, Deputy Baker, but there is no reason to trouble yourself helping this girl. She’s a clumsy one, but she’ll get it picked up.”
“It’s no bother. It’s just the gentlemanly thing to do, helping out a young lady in distress.” He rose, took Esperanza’s arm, and helped her to her feet. “You ain’t had no more trouble with the law, have you, Mrs. Dodge?”
He had a twang like people from the south. Esperanza liked that sound. It reminded her of Texas. Texas was a distant memory. She wasn’t sure how much she remembered and how much she’d made up to block out the miserable present. They’d moved to the farm outside Abilene right after she turned nine. She and Estrella turned fourteen in February, but they hadn’t celebrated because Momma said they were too old for that silly stuff. They didn’t have anyone to invite to a party, anyway. They weren’t allowed to have friends. Momma said it had to be that way, for their safety.
“No, sir. I told you that whole business with the overdraft was a simple bookkeeping error. I had no intention of writing a hot check.” Momma didn’t look happy. The man had made her mad. Things would be that much worse when they went home.
“Mr. Carpenter is gonna come out and pick up the glass and hose down the sidewalk.” Dom rushed between Momma and the sheriff’s deputy. He handed Esperanza the paper bag. Their gazes connected. His eyes said he wanted to help her. Esperanza shook her head at him. She didn’t want him getting a whupping, too.
She began shoving the food into the bag. In her hurry, she rammed her hand into the broken pickle jar. “Oh-oh-oh.” She slapped her hand against her chest in a sudden agony of pain. Blood gushed from the cut and soaked into the T-shirt. “Ouch.”
