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Benny nodded and blew. The loud sound embarrassed him.
“What’s your name, son?”
Benny shuddered at the word son, but managed to keep his gaze on the road in front of him. “Benny,” he whispered.
The pastor man flipped the knob on the radio, lowering the volume. “Benny? Benny, how old are you.”
“Old enough, sir.” Benny tried to sound older, but his voice came out in a little squeak. His throat hurt.
“How far are you going?”
“Just to my house in San Antonio.”
“Somebody home?”
“Yes, sir. My dad.” Benny stumbled over the last word. “Mr. Daniel. Mr. Daniel’s there.”
The pastor’s eyes were kind, but they looked worried. Benny could see the question in them. What was he doing out on the road?Don’t ask. Please don’t ask.
“Here.” The pastor man took one hand from the wheel and dug into his coat pocket. “Use my cell phone to call him. He must be worried sick about you out here on the side of the road all by yourself.”
Ignoring the question in the pastor man’s voice, Benny took the phone with a shaking hand. Finally, he could talk to Mr. Daniel. He had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from crying. He could make sure Mr. Daniel was okay. Mr. Juice had lied.
His fingers stiff and cold, he punched in the number. Then it rang. And rang. Finally, Mr. Daniel’s voice started talking. The recording. Tears formed in Benny’s eyes. He knew Mr. Daniel’s number by heart. Mr. Daniel said that was very important. Every child had to know his telephone number. But Benny didn’t know any other numbers for Uncle Samuel or Aunt Susana. Or Uncle Ray. Nobody. He couldn’t call the police. They’d know he killed Mr. Juice. They’d put him in jail.
He pushed the disconnect button on the phone.
“No answer?”
Benny shook his head and tried to look sure of himself. “He’ll be home soon.”
“Good. I don’t think you’re old enough to be at home alone.”
Benny didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been left at home alone.
The pastor man patted Benny’s arm. “I know you don’t want to tell me what happened to you, so I’m just gonna be patient until you feel like you can. In the meantime, your clothes are wet, you’re shaking like a leaf, and you’re all bruised up. Your lip is split, and your eyes are black and blue. You’re a mess, son.” The pastor man nodded his head toward the backseat. “I’ve got a bunch of bags of clothes that I’m taking to the church clothes closet. I can pull over and you can crawl back there and take a look. I’m sure you’ll find a nice warm jacket in there and some dry pants.. I’ve got a first aid kit. I can try to fix you up. Or I take you to the emergency room. That might be best.”
“No, please don’t stop. Please.” The shaking worsened as fear wracked Benny. He tried to bring his voice down, but he wanted to get home so bad. Couldn’t the man understand that? “I have to get home. I’m fine, sir.”
“Okay, son, it’s all right. Just calm down. We’ll keep going, if that’s what you want.”
They rode in silence for a long stretch. Benny relaxed against the seat, fighting the urge to lean his head back and close his eyes. His eyelids were so heavy, and it was warm in the car. He jerked forward and wiggled hard. No sleeping. Not until it was safe.
“You know about Jesus, Benny?”
Startled, Benny nodded at the pastor man. Nobody but Mr. Daniel and his Sunday School teacher ever talked to him about Jesus. “Yes, sir. My friend Mr. Daniel told me about him.”
“Your friend Daniel sounds like a smart guy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sometimes Jesus sends someone to help a person who’s in trouble.”
Benny thought about this statement for a second. “Like an angel?”
The pastor man chuckled. “If angels are old and bald and have dentures.”
That didn’t sound like the angels Benny had seen in pictures. “Huh?”
