I've always heard people say it's good we can't see into the future, because it would probably be too much to

handle. Either too weird, too frightening, too exciting, too something or other.

I'd definitely been less than enthusiastic about going back to school after Christmas break, and even

though we were nearly thru the month of February, I still hadn't recovered my good feeling about school.

After talking and listening to Crane, actually more listening than talking on my part, about the college

English class, he'd convinced me to stick with my plan to take it. And, all in all, so far I was enjoying it.

I really liked the teacher, and we got to do a lot of creative writing, which I really enjoyed.

Today was unusually warm for late February, even for California. I was on my way into town to pick

up feed. It had become one of my Saturday morning chores the last few weeks. Mostly, I guess, because

my brothers sensed I was at loose ends, with no Saturday job with Doc G to go to. I'd moped around the house

until finally one Saturday Brian handed me a list of feed, and said, "Hit the road, peach."

I still missed Doc G so much that I ached from it at times. I missed working along side of him

on Saturday mornings. I missed sitting and talking across the table from him at Marie's café. I missed

hearing his laugh, and the way he called me lass. Actually, I couldn't think of anything about him that

I didn't miss.

I would, I thought as I drove along, even be glad to take a lecture, or a scolding from him. I shook my head,

and said, really quietly, "What do you think about that, Doc G? I'm so lonesome for you that I wouldn't even

mind having you holler at me. Crazy, huh?"

Clarence, who was my riding companion on this trip, thumped his tail in response, without raising his

head. I reached over and rubbed his ear fondly. Clarence had made what I thought was a pretty good

adjustment to living at our house. Everybody seemed to like him, and he had a way of working himself

inside the house more than Hannah really liked, though she didn't say much about it. A lady from church had

taken Brutus, and every Sunday, much to my family's amazement, Mrs. Baird was full of stories of

Brutus's latest cute antics.

At first, when Mrs. Baird had come over to the house, her intent was to look at Pearl, with the

probability of taking her. It was while she was sitting on the porch, visiting with Hannah and Adam,

that she's seen Brutus. When he brought an old tennis ball, and dropped it hopefully beside her

chair, she chuckled, like it was the smartest thing a dog had ever done.

By the end of the hour visit, she announced that she was taking Brutus instead of Pearl. I'm sorry

to say that some of my brothers, and Hannah, too, looked dismayed at this, and tried to discourage

the match. First, Adam shared that Brutus wasn't the best dog to have around stock, saying that

Brutus wasn't above chasing horses and cattle.

"I've neither cows nor horses any longer. I'm sure he'll do fine with my chickens," was her response.

Next Brian suggested that Brutus was a bit hyper for someone of an older age to handle. Well, those

weren't his exact words. He wasn't that blunt. But everybody knew what he meant. Including Mrs. Baird.

"I'm not in my dotage yet, Brian McFadden," she said, raising an eyebrow at him like he was ten years old.

"No, ma'm," Brian said, and then gave her a smile so full of charm that she smiled back.

Before Ford went back to college in January, he'd come to me, asking what I thought about Captain

Jack going with him back to the dorms. He would, Ford said, get lots of attention. I'd known that Ford

enjoyed interacting with Captain Jack, but I was still surprised by his wanting to take full

responsibility for the contrary bird.

"Are you sure, Ford?" I'd asked him.

"Well, yeah. I'd at least like to try it. I think the other guys will get a kick out of him."

I'd been relieved, in a way, because Captain Jack's squawking and hollering got on everybody's

nerves, and sometimes it seemed to frighten Isaac.

So I'd agreed, thanking Ford gratefully.

"Maybe sometimes you can bring him when you come home for a weekend?" I'd suggested, and

Ford had said that he would. I'd called Ford at the dorms a few times, checking on Captain Jack, and

Ford always assured me that everything was going well.

"He's learned a couple of new words," Ford told me on one phone conversation, a chuckle in his voice.

"Oh, yeah?" I said. I could imagine what kind of words that Captain Jack might be subjected to in a

dorm filled with college guys.

When Ford told me the words, I whistled, and then laughed a little.

"You're supposed to be a good influence on him, Fordie," I told him jokingly.

"I am, I am," he said in protest. "It's the other guys teaching him."

I drove the truck extra slowly that particular Saturday morning. Once I got accustomed to the

smell of peppermints assaulting my senses when I was enclosed in the truck cab, I found I really enjoyed

driving it, although I still thought of it as Doc G's truck in my mind. Guthrie, riding with me earlier in the

week, had commented that the smell of the peppermints seemed to be fading away. I'd agreed,

and for some reason, that made me sort of sad.

Paying the insurance for the last two months, and truck tags, plus gasoline, had taken alot of my savings.

I'd tried to pay Daniel for the money he'd put into the El Camino, but he'd brushed me off.

"If you decide to sell it, you can pay me after that," he'd said.

I'd put some thought into putting an ad in the local newspaper, listing it for sale, but something held

me back. I knew eventually I would have to decide, but for right now, it sat beside the barn, not being moved,

although Evan started it up every now and then, which he said was important to do,

and I'd driven it down the road in front of the house a few times.

Halfway to town, I saw a familiar truck approaching from the opposite direction. I knew it was Kenny

even before he started waving his hand out of the window. I checked in my rearview mirror, and then

came to a stop in the road. Kenny pulled up alongside of me, and I rolled my window down.

"Hey," he said, with a grin.

"Hi."

"What are you doin' today?" he asked.

"Going to get feed."

"Aw, I was heading over to your house. Guthrie and I are goin' hunting. I was hoping you'd go

for a ride with me later, maybe go to the Dari Kurl."

I'd dated Kenny a couple of times over the last month. A movie, and then, another time, he and I had

double-dated with Guthrie and Kristin. I liked Kenny. He was fun, and nice, too. I didn't think I'd ever

feel wildly crazy about him. There just wasn't that sort of feeling on my part. But he was nice to go out with

sometimes. And, admittedly, one big point in his favor was that the family liked him. If I said I was

going out with Kenny, I might get a couple of comments, mostly from Brian or Evan, about where

we were going, and what time to be home, and all of that. But they liked Kenny, evident in the way

he was greeted when he came around. So it wasn't the sort of intense grilling they would do to a

boy that they didn't know, or one that they didn't like.

At this time, I shaded my eyes from the sun, and answered Kenny. "Well, maybe I can."

"Great," he said with enthusiasm. "If we can get waited on there, that is. I was there earlier

to get a Coke, and Mike was doing the car hopping himself."

"Where's Betsy Vail?" I asked. Betsy has worked at the Dari Kurl for almost forever.

"I guess she walked out on him. He was supposed to have somebody else coming in to cover her shift.

Some cousin of his, or something," Kenny told me.

After we said goodbye, I drove on to town, my mind working on an idea. I went to the feed store,

and got a bottle of pop from the machine while a couple of guys that work there loaded the feed.

I couldn't help letting my eyes stray over towards the vet office. I stepped out onto the sidewalk,

looking directly across at it. It looked so sad and deserted. Even from the outside, it looked lonely to me.

I sighed. That was just loony. How could a building look lonely? I seriously needed to get a grip.

"Harlie!" somebody yelled at me.

I turned to look at Luke Bunch, who was waving at me. "You're good to go," he told me. "All loaded

up."

"Okay. Thanks," I said.

"See ya next week," he said.

After I'd backed out into the street, I drove to the Dari Kurl. When I got there I parked, and

watched for a few minutes. Mike, the owner, was still taking orders from other cars. Mike seems to be an alright

sort of guy, although I don't really know him all that well. I've heard him holler at Betsy Vail, but

she just hollered right back. Usually everybody parked within hearing distance just laughs. Kind of like

it's free entertainment, while you eat your hamburger and fries. I saw somebody else taking orders,

a lady who I didn't recognize. The cousin, I thought.

I approached Mike, following him inside the small area. There's only enough seating inside for

about six people. That's why most people just stay in their cars or trucks to order and eat.

Mike disappeared into the kitchen. I waited until he was visable again, over the counter.

"Gonna have to wait," he said gruffly. "I've got orders ahead of you to catch up on."

"I don't want to order anything," I told him.

"Well, what do you want?" he demanded.

"I heard you might need some help today."

Mike slammed down the platter he was holding so hard that I was startled. And surprised, too, that it

didn't shatter.

"You heard that, did you?" he barked.

I decided not to let him scare me. "Well, do you?" I asked him.

"It's obvious I do, isn't it? Darn dingy female, walking out on me like she did." He slammed down

a pan, obviously wishing it was Betsy Vail's face. "You offering?"

"Maybe. What do you pay?" I asked.

"Four-fifty an hour. You keep tips. Can you start now?"

I hesitated. "Right now?" I asked. "I don't know about right now. Could I come back in around

an hour or so?" That would, I thought, give me a chance to take the feed home, and tell my

brothers and Hannah what I was going to do.

"I could use you right now. Why an hour?"

"Well, I need to talk to my family first-" I started to explain.

"No deal, then," he said, and started throwing hamburgers on the grill.

"Why not?" I asked, startled by his quick change of mind.

"You're the one who asked for a job. I need you now. Lunch crowd's gonna be swarming in

soon. I don't need a kid who has to check everything with her mama and daddy."

I realized then that, if he thought I had a mom and dad, he had no clue at all who I was.

Good grief, in a town the size of Murphys, and with all the times I'd been at the Dari Kurl,

you would think he would have recognized me. But, I

remembered that he'd only lived here around a year. And he was never out mixing with the

teenagers who frequented the place. He stayed inside, doing the cooking mostly.

I decided not to explain that I didn't have parents. Instead, I said, "It's my brothers I need to talk to."

Mike blinked at me. "Okay. Your brothers, then. I need a gal who can make up her own

mind when to work."

"I can make up my own mind," I told him. "I've got my dog out in the truck, though. I can't leave

him out there while I'm working."

"He can lay over there in the corner," Mike said, with a gesture past the one and only table. "He's not

aggressive, is he?"

"No."

"Okay, then. Grab an order pad, there, and get to work."

"Can I use your phone first?" I asked, pointing to the phone under the counter.

Mike sighed, and rolled his eyes and picked the phone up, setting it on the counter.

"No long distance calls," he warned, keeping his hand on the phone.

"It's a local call."

"Make it quick," he said, moving his hand and starting to flip the burgers.

What a jerk, I thought. But a job was a job.

I dialed home, hoping it would be Hannah that answered the phone. She'd be easier to

convince.

As it was ringing, I suddenly thought to ask Mike, "When is the shift over?"

"You can leave at two-thirty."

Ringing. Ringing. While I was still thinking of what to say, Clare said,

"Hello?"

Clare. Thank goodness.

"Hi, Clare."

"Hi, tootsie. Where are you?"

"Still in town."

"Well, the fellows are making noises wondering where you are."

"Good grief, I'm only a few minutes late," I muttered.

"Well, you know how they are," she said. It sounded as though she was smiling.

"Will you tell them something for me?"

"What?"

"I'll be home this afternoon. A little before three."

There was a momentary silence, and then Clare asked, sounding doubtful, "Why? What are

you doing?"

I would have brushed Clare off, but I remembered how mad Brian got at me awhile back when

he thought I was taking advantage of Clare, treating her like she's a pushover.

"I got a chance to earn some money."

"At Marie's?" she asked.

Before I could answer, the older lady came in from outside, and starting thrusting orders

at Mike. They began arguing about something, and I stuck my finger in my other ear, the one not

pressed to the phone, so that I could still hear Clare.

"Wait a minute," Clare said. I heard her talking to someone, and then she said, "Here's Crane."

"No-" I began. Too little, too late.

"What's up?" Crane asked.

"I'll be a little later getting home. Okay?"

"What's a little later?"

"Before three."

"You've got tutoring at two o'clock."

Oh, I'd forgotten that! "Bat shit," I muttered.

"What?" he asked.

"Can I skip it today?" I asked, hopeful, but not very confident that he would agree.

"No, you can't."

"Okay. I'll be home for tutoring." I would, I thought, just tell Mike I had to leave by 1:30.

"Hold on a minute," Crane said. "What are you doing that you want to stay in town for?"

"I just want to make some money, Crane." I decided to appeal to his sense of responsibility.

"Where? The café?"

I knew better than to fib. "No. The Dari Kurl."

Before he could ask a bunch of questions, I said, "I'll explain when I get home. Is it alright?"

"I guess so," he said, but he didn't sound particularly convinced or happy.

"Okay. I'll see you later," I said, in a hurry to get off the phone.

"Be home before two, you hear me?" he was saying.

"Yes. Okay."

7

What followed had to be the longest three hours of my life. I like to think that I'm not

lazy. That I'm used to hard work. But either it was because it was a different type of work, or I was

way out of shape, or something, because I was exhausted only an hour into it.

You wouldn't think it would be that hard just walking in and out, taking orders from people, and

then taking their food out to them, but it was. I was even beginning to think fondly of the Ivy's sheep.

I saw a lot of kids from school, and it was while I was talking to Chelsie and Lori that Mike

stuck his head out of the door to yell at me and tell me to get back to work. When the lunch

crowd had thinned out, though, and I checked the time, I told Mike that I needed to go, and

he was nice enough. Thirteen fifty didn't seem like much for all the work I'd done, but I'd made another

ten in tips.

"We'll make a car hop out of you yet," Mike told me, handing me the money. "Come in

tomorrow around one."

"I don't know about tomorrow," I told him. "I just helped out today, but I don't think-"

"I could use the help tomorrow too," he said, giving me an intent look that I found

a little discomforting.

"Well, okay," I said. "One to what?"

"Eight."

Seven hours! I didn't think I could do that. Good grief, somebody would have to scrape me

up off the ground of the parking lot at the end of seven hours. I was mentally calculating in my

head what he would pay me, and then estimating how much in tips I might make.

And eight? It would already be dark by then, and, old-fashioned as it sounds, Adam and Brian and

Crane don't like me driving after dark a whole lot. Not to mention, tomorrow night was a school

night. That would be the first argument they had against this idea.

"I don't think I can stay until eight," I told him. "Maybe until five, or six."

Instead of answering me, Mike waved a hand in my general direction, like he was shooing a fly

away.

By the time I drove into the driveway at home, it was, according to the radio, five minutes until

two, and Mrs. Steven's car was already there.

Both Crane and Adam were on the porch. Crane was leaning against a porch pillar, and Adam

was half-sitting on the railing. I knew they were waiting for me.

"Both of them," I muttered to Clarence. "Double the lecture."

7