The Gardens of Digby Green: Tall Coke
“I’ve had it with you.” Digby threw a punch to Tim’s jaw that shut him up and knocked him out. That solved one problem. Again, he was tempted to follow through and do the man in, but that would give him another problem.
It was broad daylight, and there wasn’t a field of Timothy hay available for a fresh garden plot that he knew of, within miles. One more reason he stuck with weeding out women. Digby propped Tim against the front wheel, and checked for anyone being nosy.
Albinoni and the twins had gone back to laying pavers. Good. It was his chance to drag Tim around, and heave him up into the passenger seat.
The guy was still out.
Digby shut the door on him, pulled the keys from his pants pocket, and hopped into the driver’s seat. He checked his watch. As far as he was concerned, he’d been on this job long enough. Tim toppled toward Digby’s right shoulder.
That wouldn’t do. Shoving the guy upright, Digby reached across for the seat belt, and buckled his lolling co-worker in. Then, he started the engine and drove off the lot.
He was thirsty. A tall Coke would be good, so Digby watched for the next Micky D’s. Three other drivers idled in the to-go lane. Digby sighed. Since he’d buckled the man in, Tim hadn’t moved.
The man’s abdomen moved under his shirt. Digby’s pulse slowed somewhat. A surreptitious check of his mirrors didn’t show anyone paying the truck much attention, so Digby poked a finger at Tim’s neck.
There was a pulse.
Beside the open driver’s window, a speaker squawked and crackled. Digby placed his order, and pulled ahead.
The worker at the next station peered into the cab, and asked “Is he okay?”
“Heat got to him,” Digby explained, paid for his Coke, and drove on.
The Gardens of Digby Green is a serialized story that posts on Fridays.
Next week, part forty-eight, Store Closing.
Find a link to purchase Heartland Treasures anthology here.
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