The Gardens of Digby Green: Unexpected Stop
Two cars rolled out of the truck stop lot between Digby and Ray, and that wasn’t bad, but when a semi crossed into the same lane, Ray tensed. The highway signs were marked 680, and he knew Digby would be forced to turn onto State Road 29 soon, either south toward Omaha, Nebraska, or northward, in the direction of Sioux City.
Ray’s tension rose. Which would Digby choose? If he left the highway, following unobtrusively would become much harder.
Decision time.
Digby Green drove north. Traffic on the road was heavy enough. Ray sighed, and reached across the seat for his lunch. With full tanks, he and Green wouldn’t stop for a while. Eating the sandwich was a better choice than leaving it to smell up Rose’s car. He could chase the flavor off his tastebuds with the sour cream and onion potato chips.
The green pickup’s turn signal flashed, as Digby changed lanes, aiming for the exit to State Road 30. Ray slowed, made the change himself, and took a deep gulp from one water bottle. Definitely time for the potato chips. The bag resisted, and Ray tossed it into the passenger seat, then steered one-handed while he dug in his pocket for his multi-tool. He opened that with his teeth, then transferred it to the hand on the wheel before grabbing the chip bag.
Behind the Chrysler, someone honked. Ray’d been drifting out of his lane. Quickly, he corrected his steering. The annoyed driver gunned ahead, showing Ray a rude gesture as the vehicles passed.
Digby Green pulled off the road in Missouri Valley. He parked in the Missouri Valley Antiques and Classic Cars lot, and Ray chose a space in the row behind Green’s truck. The huge barn-like building featured a mural sized portrait to the left of the portico that shaded two pairs of entry doors.
Green stepped out of his truck. He paused, dug in one pocket, then proceeded toward the doors, tossing something in his right hand as he went. Just feet from the portico, Green fumbled, and a length of gold chain dangled between his fingers. He flicked his wrist, catching the item up again. Then he was in the shade, and through the doors.
They gave Ray no view at all of the building interior, but common sense told him to sit tight. Green was unlikely to go anywhere without his truck. The Ford wasn’t a classic, yet.
Five minutes became ten, then fifteen. Ray rolled down the windows, but there wasn’t much breeze. The parking lot offered no shade. He opened the second water bottle. Lukewarm, it was better than nothing.
Whatever Green had done during the previous twenty-two minutes, he emerged stuffing something into his shirt pocket. He put the truck in gear, and pulled out.
Ray took a deep breath, and turned his key. He’d rolled out of the parking space, but a tall man opened the building door, and shouted.
“You, in the red car. Wait, please.”
Startled, Ray lifted his foot from the accelerator. The stranger dashed up, stopping himself by planting both hands on the car door.
“She’s absolutely gorgeous,” the man said. “Would you consider selling her?”
“No. This is my wife’s car, and it’s not for sale.” Ray put his foot on the gas. He didn’t have time for this. Gravel scattered as he left the lot. Green’s truck shrank in the distance.
The Gardens of Digby Green: Unexpected Stop is an installment of a short story which posts on Fridays. You can find the first part and read from the beginning, here.
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