Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (3 page)

“I know what your name is. How much you got?”

“How much do you have?” she countered in the same tone of voice.

They were on their way. There was not much chance he would take her back. And if he stopped to put her out, she would reach for the pistol!

“If you got cash money, you’d best not carry it on you.”

“It’s safer on me than in my suitcase or my box.”

“Do you think I’m goin’ to steal it?”

“It was taken out of my suitcase before. I’m taking no chances this time.”

Silence.

The pavement ended. They drove onto the gravel road and into the dust stirred up by a car ahead. Margie cranked up the window. She kept her nose pressed to the glass and watched the landscape go by. When they passed men working on the road, they slowed until they were barely creeping along, and Margie waved. Several of the men waved back.

It seemed to her that they traveled miles and miles before they came to the pavement again. What a relief it was to be off the gravel road and away from the dust. She rolled down the window again and breathed in the warm clean air.

Elmer resumed a speed of between twenty-five and thirty miles per hour. Her father was a good driver; she had to give him that.
But how was she going to endure weeks of confinement in this truck with this silent, cynical man?

The sun was directly overhead when Elmer pulled the truck into a grove beside the road and stopped. Margie got out, stretched her arms and legs and looked around for a place to relieve herself. She found cover in a heavy stand of bushes amid the trees.

On the way back to the truck she stopped and watched her father pouring water from a bucket into the radiator. He was a puzzle to her and had been since she was old enough to know that he was not in the least like other girls’ fathers. He was a neat-appearing man: clean-shaven, and he’d recently had a haircut. His overalls and shirt looked to be new. She knew that she would never
love
him, but she wished that she could
like
him.

Elmer dropped the tailgate, reached for a wooden box and dropped it on the ground. She took it to be an invitation to step up into the back of the truck. She was surprised at how compact and efficiently arranged it was. Close to the end on one side was a water barrel and next to it a cabinet with two doors. Tight against the cabinet was a small upright icebox fastened to the side of the truck. She didn’t look, but was reasonably sure a small hole had been drilled in the bed of the truck beneath the icebox because there was no pan underneath to empty.

On the other side was a long bench piled high with bedding and boxes. Beneath it, she could see a camp stove and what appeared to be a small rolled-up pup tent. Across the front, next to the cab, her father had built in a heavy wooden box with a padlocked lid. On this was a thin pad.

Every foot of space in the truck bed had been utilized.

Margie looked at her father standing at the end of the truck and smiled to let him know how pleased she was with what he had done.

He grunted and walked away.

Chapter 2

F
ORTIFIED WITH A MEAT SANDWICH
and with a fruit jar of water on the seat beside her, Margie silently watched the fields and farms they passed. She laughed aloud when she read the Burma-Shave sign:
IF WIFEY SHUNS YOUR FOND EMBRACE—DON’T SHOOT THE ICEMAN—FEEL YOUR FACE.
She glanced at Elmer, thinking that the jingle would surely bring a smile to his face, but he was staring straight ahead.

He appeared to be a bit nervous driving in the Springfield traffic. It made Margie wonder how he would handle the traffic in places like Oklahoma City and Amarillo.

In late afternoon she became aware that he was searching for something as they approached a side road. When they came to a corner where a three-sided log shed sat back from the road, he turned. They traveled for several minutes down a rutted path before pulling into a cleared area amid a stand of blackjack trees.

A truck somewhat like the one they were in was parked there. A man sat in a chair beside it with his hand on a big black dog. A woman tended a campfire. When Elmer stopped and stepped out of the cab, a man in overalls and wide-brimmed straw hat came from behind the raised hood of the truck to meet him.

“Howdy,” he called. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”

“No.” Elmer moved away from the truck and stretched. “Came right to it.”

The man shook hands with Elmer, then looked questioningly at Margie. When it became apparent to her that Elmer wasn’t going to introduce her, Margie rounded the front of the truck and held out her hand.

“Hello. I’m Margie Kinnard. Elmer’s daughter.”

“Alvin Putman, little lady. I’ve known Elmer for a spell. Didn’t even know he had a daughter. Come meet the wife. If we’re goin’ to be travelin’ together, you’d better be gettin’ acquainted. Grace will be downright glad to have a woman to visit with. Come on, Elmer,” Alvin said when Elmer headed for the back of the truck. “You’ve not met my wife and son.”

The woman, red-faced from bending over the fire, came toward Margie while wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. She had a pleasant smile. Mr. Putman introduced her with pride.

“My wife, Grace. Hon, this is Mr. Kinnard and his daughter, Margie.”

Grace shook hands with Margie, then held her hand out to Elmer. “Alvin has told me about you, Mr. Kinnard, but he failed to mention that you had such a pretty daughter.”

“Howdy do, ma’am.”

“Come meet our son, Margie. Alvin and your pa will want to chew the fat. Mr. Kinnard can meet Rusty later.” Grace took her hand and pulled her toward the man who had been sitting beside the truck. He stood beside the chair now, one hand on the back.

“Son, Mr. Kinnard brought his daughter. Her name is Margie. Margie, our son, Rusty.”

“Hello, Margie,” he said softly.

“Hello.” Margie held out her hand. Grace moved to nudge the young man’s arm. He lifted his hand. Margie grasped it, suddenly realizing that Rusty was blind. Her eyes went quickly to Grace, who was watching her closely.

“She’s about your age, Rusty. Pretty too. Blond hair, brown eyes, not quite as tall as I am.”

“Don’t believe her,” Margie said with a nervous laugh. “I’m not pretty. I’m too skinny, my mouth is too big and my hair looks like a haystack after a cyclone.”

Rusty had a nice smile. It was hard for Margie to believe that the eyes that were turned toward her were not seeing her. He was medium height, thin, and had on striped overalls like his father wore. His thick dark auburn hair fell across his forehead. He was clean-shaven and, although not handsome, was nice-looking in a boyish kind of way

“This is Blackie,” Rusty said, bending down to scratch the ears of a big black dog who watched her with dark intelligent eyes.

Margie laughed. “Hello, Blackie. It’s not hard to figure out how you got your name.”

“Mother wanted to call him Whitey, but he wouldn’t answer to it.”

“I don’t blame you,” Margie said to the dog. “Blackie is a perfect name for you.” She looked up to see that Rusty was still smiling. “How long have you had him?”

“Since he was a pup. About six years now.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog, but I’ve never lived in a place where I could have one. See you later, Rusty. I’d better get back and help set up camp.”

“Nice meeting you, Margie.”

Grace walked back with her. “Rusty gets lonely for someone his own age to talk to,” she said softly. “I’m glad you’ll be traveling with us.”

“Is he completely blind?”

“Almost. He sees shadows. He came down with a high fever when he was ten years old. We still don’t know what it was. He plays the violin and the guitar and is terribly smart. I tell him something or read something to him and he never forgets it.” Grace’s hand clasped Margie’s arm. “I don’t want you to think he’s a dummy.”

“I didn’t for a minute think he was a dummy.”

“Some folks think that because he can’t see, he can’t hear. They’ll talk to him real loud or ignore him. I hope the Lukers are as nice as you.”

“Lukers?”

“Foley Luker, his wife and two kids. Didn’t your pa tell you that we’re going to travel in a caravan?”

“No. He’s pretty close-mouthed.”

“Mr. Luker was in the ice business too. That’s how Alvin got to know him … and your pa. They hatched it up to travel together for safety reasons and to hang together when we get to California.”

“I guess there is safety in numbers.”

“We’ve heard that bad things can happen in a campground if you’re alone.”

“Are the Lukers to meet us here?”

“Alvin thought they would be here by now. I’d better get back and see to my pot of beans. My cousin made the trip to California two years ago. She wrote to tell me to cook up a mess of beans when I got a chance. When Alvin saw that pot of beans, he said there was enough gas there to blow us all the way to the west coast.” Grace giggled, squeezed Margie’s arm and left her laughing.

Grace had given Margie surprising news. Evidently her father had planned this trip to California with others who had been in the ice business. He had given considerable thought to making the trip as comfortable as possible, probably thinking that Goldie would be going with him. Not many journeyed the highway with their own iceboxes. Margie felt better about being with Elmer now that they would be traveling with the Putmans.

Margie stepped up into the truck and rummaged through the supplies. There was an assortment of canned goods as well as dried foods such as beans, rice and crackers. A large tin contained flour, another cornmeal and yet another sugar. In the icebox were milk and eggs and some of the meat left over from their sandwiches at noon. She reasoned that they should use the perishable items first.

When the tailgate of the truck was let down and hooked to leather straps attached to each side of the truck, it served as a work counter. Margie was forced to admire her father’s ingenuity.

While Elmer and Alvin Putman worked beneath the hood of Alvin’s truck, Margie built a small campfire and set over it a heavy wire rack she found under the bench. She made milk gravy, and into it she chipped the remainder of the meat. She would serve this on bread she toasted on a small square grill. When the meal was ready, she set it aside, climbed back up into the truck and rearranged the items beneath the shelf to make room for her suitcase and box.

The Lukers arrived while Margie and her father were eating supper. Elmer sat on a canvas camp stool, his plate on his lap. He didn’t comment on the food he was served, but he ate three helpings, then set his plate on the tailgate and walked away to meet the new arrivals.

Margie heated water in a teakettle to wash the dishes, and when that was done, she crawled up into the truck, gave herself a sponge bath, then placed the washdish on an upturned box along with soap and a towel for Elmer. After combing her hair and tying it back with a ribbon, she headed for the Luker camp thinking she would get the introductions over with.

Most of the work at the Luker camp was being done by a tall, lanky boy and a young girl while a woman who didn’t appear to be much older than Margie looked on.

“Hello,” Margie called as she neared. The boy stopped working and returned her greeting. The young girl ignored her and continued to take things from the two-wheeled trailer behind the car.

“I’m Margie Kinnard.” Margie extended her hand to the boy.

“Jody. Jody Luker.”

“Glad to meet you, Jody Luker.”

“I’m Mrs. Luker.” The woman’s clear blue eyes looked Margie over with frank female curiosity. With black curly hair, milk-white skin and lips bright red with lipstick, she was pretty and well aware of it. She preened and flashed even white teeth. Dimples appeared in each cheek. “I’m their stepmama. I guess you can tell I’m not old enough to be their real mama.” She laughed and held out her hand. “Sugar. My name has been Sugar for so long I’ve almost forgotten my real name is Selma.”

“Sugar!” the young girl snorted. “Should be Vinegar.”

“Don’t pay any attention to Mona. She’s had her fat tail over the line all day. When her father isn’t around, she says things she’d be slapped silly for if he heard them.”

“And you don’t?” The girl curled her lips in a sneer. “You act so nasty nice around him that it makes me want to puke.”

“I apologize for the girl’s behavior. The poor little thing can’t help it if
she’s
fat and as ugly as a mud fence.” There was viciousness in Mrs. Luker’s voice, and to Margie her face was no longer pretty.

“Quit pickin’ on her!” Jody said sharply.

Sugar grinned at the boy and made a kissing motion with her puckered lips. He scowled and turned back to the trailer to lift out a heavy box for his sister. Mrs. Luker put her hands beneath the heavy hair at the nape of her neck, lifted it and thrust out her pointed breasts.

Margie was stunned into silence.
Oh, boy! What do we have here?
The girl, Mona, looked to be a couple of years younger than her brother and was far from ugly. She was not as slender as Sugar, but she was not fat. Margie was sure the girl was hiding hurt feelings behind her belligerent attitude.

“I must go. I’ll see you again.”

“There’s no doubt ’bout that if you’re going to be traveling with us.” Sugar shrugged and raised her brows while looking Margie up and down. Her expression changed suddenly when she looked past her at the men who were approaching. A dazzling smile appeared on her face.

“I’ll have something for you to eat, darlin’, as soon as I get the camp set up.” Sugar went to her husband and took his hand. She leaned her head against his shoulder before looking up at him.

“You mean as soon as the fat, ugly kid gets the camp set up,” Mona mumbled.

Jody grunted a warning to his sister.

“This is Mr. Putman and Mr. Kinnard,” Mr. Luker said to his wife, and placed his hand on her shoulder. “My wife, Sugar.”

“Hello.” Sugar offered her hand to each of the men, then snuggled against her husband.

Embarrassed, Alvin Putman shifted his feet uneasily. Elmer’s expression was as blank as always, and it was difficult to gauge his reaction to the woman.