Cindy shivered a little in the early-morning breeze. The fun was over, and she figured she wouldn't be lucky enough to find people like Tom and Pete again, friendly gentle people who didn't want to exploit her. No, her next ride was more likely to be a sadistic brute like Mike. She steeled herself, for it. She had to take whatever she got, if she was to reach California.
A car slowed for her, and Cindy was enormously relieved to see that the driver was a woman. She could relax now and not worry about being raped. She grinned and ran to catch up with the car.
"Hello," the woman said, smiling pleasantly. "Want a ride?"
"I sure do," said Cindy. "I'm trying to get to California."
The woman looked amused. "Well, I'm not going quite that far, only to Kansas City, but you're welcome to ride along."
Cindy remembered the map Pete had shown her. Kansas City wasn't very far away, but it was on the main route to California. "That'd be great," she said.
She got in on the passenger side, and the big comfortable American car purred back onto the freeway. It was like riding on a cloud compared to Tom's bone-rattling VW bug. Cindy sighed and relaxed. The woman began chatting about some meeting she'd been to in St. Louis, and Cindy thought her husky voice was pleasant. She didn't care for her style of dressing very much, though. The woman wore a mannish tailored pantsuit and flat shoes, and her auburn hair was cut very short, almost like one of the old ducktail haircuts of the 50's. She had a handsome face but wore no make-up, which made her look rather severe. Cindy guessed the woman was in her early forties.
Her name was Emily Trout, Cindy learned in the course of their conversation, and she was unmarried, in the retail clothing business, and lived with her older brother in Kansas City. She seemed brisk, competent, and content with her lot, although Cindy pitied her. It must be awful to go all your life without a man.
"And you, Cindy?" said Emily. "How old are you? Why are you going to California – a vacation?"
Cindy said. "I'm eighteen," she said, "and I'm going there to look for work. New York is so crowded, and it's not safe on the streets."
Miss Trout glanced at her with that cool look of amusement which seemed a habit with her. "Cindy," she said, "If you had a brain in your head – or any experience of life – you wouldn't be hitchhiking alone across the country. I don't mean to pry, and don't worry I won't try to get you sent home. But if you're in any kind of trouble and need help, you can trust me. Hitchhiking is terribly dangerous. You could get killed, raped… So if you think I can help you, just tell me."
Cindy blushed. "My pop was real mean to me, and-and I can't stay with him any more. I'm going to go live with my mother in Los Angeles." She trusted Miss Trout and felt no qualms about telling her this much.
They reached Kansas City in the late afternoon, and Emily Trout invited Cindy to stop at her house for dinner. "You could wash your clothes, too, and stay the night if you want," she said pleasantly.
"You probably need a rest stop after all that traveling."
"That would be great," said Cindy. "Thank you so much."
She wasn't so grateful when she met Emily's brother Calvin Trout. Cindy thought he was the meanest, most sour-looking old fart she'd ever met. Pale, watery-eyed, with thinning brown hair and hunched shoulders, Calvin peered hostility at the world through wire-rimmed spectacles and spoke in a nasal whine. He gave Cindy the creeps.
Nevertheless she decided to stay, for she was starved and she badly needed to wash her clothes. Emily gave her a pretty pink robe to wear while her clothes were in the washer, and they had a great supper of lamb chops and mashed potatoes and salad, marred only by Calvin's nasal complaints. He hardly spoke to Cindy, only glared at her.
Emily urged Cindy to go to bed early and get plenty of sleep, even brought her a cup of cocoa to drink in bed and a stack of magazines to read. "You just have a good rest, dear," she said, squeezing Cindy's shoulder. "Don't worry about a thing."
Cindy smiled gratefully. She soon got very sleepy and found herself nodding off before she'd gotten through the first magazine. It was almost as if the cocoa had been drugged…
Cindy blinked as harsh light flooded the room. She gazed dizzily around and recognized the pretty little guestroom Miss Trout had assigned her. The bedside clock said it was a little after midnight. She'd been asleep since eight, but she was sure she'd turned the light off… Then her blue eyes popped wide open when she saw Calvin and Emily standing by her bed.
"Don't scream, dear," said Emily. "It won't do you a bit of good."