Time slips away....

I've been busy this year! I've been writing quite a bit, but most of it is reworking older material. I have done openings to a few things for some classes I took (curious to see what others did for classes -- it was very intersting!)

Here is one of them:

Trouble walked in through the door of the Gas and More at three minutes before closing on a cold Thursday night in October.

I looked up from counting change and frowned because there was no car pulled up at the pumps. Instead, I saw a tall man in a long black overcoat, a wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his face, pull the door open against the wind. The right sleeve hung loose and I feared there might be a gun in that hand. There had been a rash of robberies in the neighboring counties, and faced with the possibility --

The door swung shut. "Just want a couple sodas and some chips. Is it too late?"

That, at least seemed less ominous. I mean people didn't usually ask if they were too late to rob you, right?

"Sure, there's time," I said and waved toward the side of the shop. My arm shook a little.

The guy limped back toward the sodas and beers and I started to count quarters again, and then gave up when I lost track after half a handful. The alarm clock under the register went off, reminding me of the time. Too many nights I sat here far past midnight, reading and losing track of the world. Tonight I had finished my book early so I'd already mopped up, straightened the magazine rack and dusted the little stand of porcelain dolls back in the corner. All I had to do was wait for the tall dark stranger to get his sodas and chips.

He seemed to be having some trouble. "Damn. Okay, I'm going to stick one of these in my pocket until I get up there. I can't carry them in one hand. Don't want you to think I'm shoplifting."

"Fine." My heart had stopped doing double time. I even kind of felt sorry for the guy as he limped back to the cash register, put the items on the counter, and looked up.

And my heart did a double thump for an entirely different reason. I hadn't seen Derrick Dare since about two months before graduation, when he got dragged off to Juvenile Detention down at the county seat. That was a little over ten years ago.

"Hey, Ginger, isn't it?" he said and smiled.

Hell. I didn't think he had known my name back at Jefferson High, when one of those smiles would have made any of the girls melt. Oh yes, the local bad boy... and from the look of the right arm in the sling, he wasn't doing much better.

"Yes, Ginger," I said and forced a smile. "Sorry. You caught me by surprise, Derrick."

"I could tell."

"What are you doing in town?"

"I came from my grandfather's funeral," he said, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, that's right. I'm sorry. I forgot Lily --"

"Most people forgot Lily," he said, and his face got that hard-edged angry look I remembered far better than the smile.

"I forgot Lily was your mother," I said, finishing my statement. I rang up the sale, feeling a little needle of irritation. He had no right to judge me like that. "I remember her very well. I was in her art class at church when I was ten, and her death... it was the first time I had lost a friend."

He looked up for a moment, surprised and shocked. Derrick had continued to live with his step-father and older step-brother after Lily died, and then Tom Dare had married Markie, who already had four kids of her own, and they had three more... and somehow I had just forgotten that Derrick wasn't their son. I think almost everyone had.

He pulled a billfold out of his back pocket while I put the cokes and bag of chips in a bag. He didn't look much like a junk food addict -- not from what I could see of his chest and arm. The right arm was in a cast that went up over the fingers. His face had a little scar on the right, not too old, but the rest was still what my mother had called 'Elvis-pretty' back ten years ago. His hair was longer and he had grown a little mustache, and.... and he was having trouble getting money out of the billfold while I gawked.

"Here, let me," I offered.

He nodded, looking grateful. I pulled a five out -- noting a lot of money in there -- and gave him back the change --

The door to the shop opened again. I looked up with a bit of shock and worry, but it was Deputy Miller.

"Everything all right, Ginger?" he asked, lifting his chin toward Derrick.

"Just fine," I said.

Derrick turned around, and I thought I saw his shoulder's straighten. Miller blinked and his hand almost went to his gun. Not a good reaction.

"Son of a bitch. What are you doing back in town?" Miller demanded, and then he shook his head. "Your grandfather's funeral."

"Yes," Derrick said, his voice cold.

"What you say we have a little talk, boy," Miller said and signaled him out.

Derrick grabbed his bag and followed Miller out, who stood holding the door open for him. I thought it was uncalled for, to be honest. I mean Derrick had been hell on wheels back when he was seventeen but now... I thought about the cast, the limp and the scar and thought maybe he hadn't changed much. Miller had been a deputy back then, too. He might have a reason to think Derrick still needed some rules laid out.

Miller took him away in the car, but it was in the front seat, and I thought he was probably just giving him a ride back to the hotel. Good. I quickly counted the change, dropped the money bag into the floor safe, and grabbed my keys --

And Derrick's billfold still sat on the counter where I had put it when I got the five out. Damn. Well, the hotel wasn't out of my way. I grabbed it and my coat and keys, and dropped the wallet --

It fell open to a picture of a Derrick, a lovely oriental woman and two kids about six or seven years old. They were all laughing.

Married. Well, I guess he'd changed quite a bit. I picked the billfold up and put it into my pocket, shut down the pumps and locked up the shop. I only lived seven blocks from the store and even on cold October nights I usually didn't mind the walk home. The Highway Hotel -- the only one in town -- was just a couple blocks down the road. I could see the police car pull away from there and sighed with relief. I'd give Derrick back his billfold and head for home.

End of the Adventure.