The Traveling Vampire Show(70)

 

“You’ve got a point.”

 

“So now we’re neck-deep in shit,” Rusty said.

 

“You’d better get going,” I told him.

 

“What about you guys?” he asked.

 

I shook my head.

 

“We’ll stay here,” Slim said, “and try to find out what’s going on with the chief.”

 

“What about tonight?”

 

“You worried about the goddamn vampire show?” Slim blasted him. “Dwight’s dad’s in the hospital, you cretin! Get outa here!”

 

She hurried ahead of him and opened the kitchen door.

 

Watching me over his shoulder as he walked toward the door, Rusty said, “We’ll still try’n make it, though, right? I mean, if your dad’s okay and everything?”

 

I just shrugged and shook my head.

 

“I’ll call you,” he said.

 

Then Slim shut the door behind him and we were alone. Our eyes met.

 

We’d both had it drilled into our minds that, unless an adult was present, we should never be in a house with a member of the opposite sex.

 

It had been different when Rusty was with us. Now he was gone. We were suddenly free to do anything, and I’m sure we both knew it.

 

Knew it, and felt embarrassed by the knowledge.

 

Slim shrugged and said, “Do you want to call Dolly?”

 

“I guess I could.” I stepped over to the phone. And stared at it. And kept staring.

 

I didn’t want to make the call.

 

Not because of Dolly, but because of what she might say about my father.

 

In a soft voice, Slim asked from behind me, “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t know. Maybe I’d better wait for Mom’s call.”

 

“She might not call for an hour or two.”

 

“I know, but ... maybe I’d better wait.”

 

“Want me to call Dolly and see what’s going on?”

 

“No, that’s okay.”

 

“Are you sure? I’ Il do it if ...”

 

The phone rang. Its sudden jangle made me flinch. My insides cringed.

 

I grabbed the handset. “Hello?”

 

“Honey, it’s me.”

 

Mom.

 

I shriveled..

 

“Did you see my note?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Tell me!

 

“I would’ve called sooner, but people were using the phones. And then I did call, but our line was busy.”

 

“How’s Dad?”

 

“Oh, he’s fine. He said to say hello.”

 

“Well, what happened?”

 

“He had a little accident in his patrol car, honey. A dog ran out in front of him. You know how your father is about animals. He swerved to miss it, and everything would’ve been fine except his front tire picked that moment to blow out. So then he lost control of the car and smacked into a tree.”

 

“Hard?” I asked.

 

“Hard enough,” Mom said. “You know how your father feels about seat belts.”

 

According to Dad, only sissies wore them. It seemed like a strange attitude for a chief of police, but he’d grown up in the Great Depression, fought in World War Two....

 

“How is he?” I asked.

 

“Well, he broke his left arm and cracked a few ribs. He also hit his head on the windshield hard enough to break it. The windshield, not his head.” She laughed, but it sounded a little tense. “You know how hard your father’s head is. Anyway, he apparently was knocked unconscious for a while. But then he came to and drove himself over to County General.”

 

“Why County General?” I asked.

 

“Well, he feels it’s better equipped, and he was almost as close to it as ...”

 

“Where was he?”

 

“Out on Route 3.”

 

On Route 3 and a dog ran out in front of his car?

 

A chill scurried up my back and the skin on the nape of my neck stiffened with goosebumps.

 

“Anyway,” Mom said, “he’s fine, but they’re going to keep him overnight.”

 

“What for?”

 

“Just as a precaution. Because of the head injury, mostly. They want to keep an eye on him till morning.”

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

“Anywhoooo, I thought I’d like to stay here at the hospital with him.”

 

“All night?” I asked.

 

“I don’t have to stay....”

 

“No, it’s fine.”

 

“If you’d rather not stay by yourself, I could come home.”

 

“No, you don’t have to do that.”

 

“Or I’m sure you could spend the night with Rusty or one of your brothers.”