said, but not loud enough for Mrs. Thompson to hear. I’m sure she already thought I was peculiar. I turned to wave good-bye to her, but the teacher’s Raggedy Ann hair was already disappearing down the long hallway.
Still Augusta didn’t budge.
“What are you doing?” I said. “Didn’t you hear me? She told me where to find Sam.”
I turned my back on her and walked to the car, leaving the driver’s door open as I started the engine to give the air conditioning a chance to do its thing. The next thing I knew she was sitting beside me. “Sorry.” Augusta said. “Guess I wasn’t listening. I was watching for our friend in the gray car with the funny name.”
“What? Damn! Is he following us again?” I slammed and locked my car door. “When did you see him?”
“Not since we lost him back at that little country store this morning, but I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.” Augusta did something with her hair, and in about two seconds, arranged it in sort of a pouf on top of her head. If she used any pins, I didn’t see them. “And it really isn’t necessary to use profanity, Mary George. There are other ways to express yourself.”
I glared at her as we drove out of the parking lot and began the long drive home. It was the middle of June and at least ninety degrees, yet she looked as if she’d stepped out of one of those meadow-flower commercials for underarm deodorant. “Don’t you ever get hot?” I said. How dare she sit there all cool and collected without even a “dew drop,” as Aunt Caroline called it, on her forehead. “Why is it you never seem rumpled or sticky? Don’t you ever sweat?”
Even her smile was refreshing. “I’m sorry if it annoys you, Mary George, but angels don’t wilt.”
“I didn’t say ‘wilt.’” I shoved a clump of hair from my face with a moist palm.
“Very well. We don’t sweat,” she said, and I felt her penetrating green-eyed gaze. “If you’d like, Mary George, when we get home, I believe I can do something with your hair.”
“Just leave my hair out of it!” I took a curve a little faster than I should’ve and gritted my teeth when the tires squealed.
“Reckless driving isn’t going to get you anywhere unless you’re in a hurry to join your parents,” my pious passenger reminded me. “If you’re upset about something, I do wish you’d tell me about it. I should think you’d be happy about finding your friend.” She glanced in the rearview mirror—to see, I guess, if we were being chased by the police. “You did say you knew where he was? Is that where you’re going in such a rush?”
I didn’t answer. It wasn’t Augusta’s fault I was afraid of meeting Sam, and I knew she only meant to help. But it can really be a pain in the ass having somebody around who is always right.
Augusta must’ve guessed my thoughts because suddenly she just wasn’t there.
“Look, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” I said. “You can come on back if you want.” I waved my arm in the space where she’d been, and if anyone had seen me, they’d think I had lost my wits completely. Maybe they’d be right. “I know you’re here somewhere, Augusta Goodnight. You might as well make yourself known.”
She didn’t reappear, but suddenly the radio came on, and when I heard the music, I had to laugh. The vocalist was singing “Fools Rush in Where Angels Fear to Tread.”
I was still smiling when I turned into the rutted gravel drive to my apartment. My stomach reminded me it was after six o’clock. I hurried inside to let out the dog. Robbie, the little boy who lived behind us, had promised to take Hairy out at noon, but I knew the puppy would be scratching at the door after being cooped up.
But Hairy Brown wasn’t there. I knew he wasn’t there before I opened the door because he usually whimpers as soon as he hears my key, then throws himself upon me as I step inside.
“Hairy?” I stood in the living room and called his name,
Still Augusta didn’t budge.
“What are you doing?” I said. “Didn’t you hear me? She told me where to find Sam.”
I turned my back on her and walked to the car, leaving the driver’s door open as I started the engine to give the air conditioning a chance to do its thing. The next thing I knew she was sitting beside me. “Sorry.” Augusta said. “Guess I wasn’t listening. I was watching for our friend in the gray car with the funny name.”
“What? Damn! Is he following us again?” I slammed and locked my car door. “When did you see him?”
“Not since we lost him back at that little country store this morning, but I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.” Augusta did something with her hair, and in about two seconds, arranged it in sort of a pouf on top of her head. If she used any pins, I didn’t see them. “And it really isn’t necessary to use profanity, Mary George. There are other ways to express yourself.”
I glared at her as we drove out of the parking lot and began the long drive home. It was the middle of June and at least ninety degrees, yet she looked as if she’d stepped out of one of those meadow-flower commercials for underarm deodorant. “Don’t you ever get hot?” I said. How dare she sit there all cool and collected without even a “dew drop,” as Aunt Caroline called it, on her forehead. “Why is it you never seem rumpled or sticky? Don’t you ever sweat?”
Even her smile was refreshing. “I’m sorry if it annoys you, Mary George, but angels don’t wilt.”
“I didn’t say ‘wilt.’” I shoved a clump of hair from my face with a moist palm.
“Very well. We don’t sweat,” she said, and I felt her penetrating green-eyed gaze. “If you’d like, Mary George, when we get home, I believe I can do something with your hair.”
“Just leave my hair out of it!” I took a curve a little faster than I should’ve and gritted my teeth when the tires squealed.
“Reckless driving isn’t going to get you anywhere unless you’re in a hurry to join your parents,” my pious passenger reminded me. “If you’re upset about something, I do wish you’d tell me about it. I should think you’d be happy about finding your friend.” She glanced in the rearview mirror—to see, I guess, if we were being chased by the police. “You did say you knew where he was? Is that where you’re going in such a rush?”
I didn’t answer. It wasn’t Augusta’s fault I was afraid of meeting Sam, and I knew she only meant to help. But it can really be a pain in the ass having somebody around who is always right.
Augusta must’ve guessed my thoughts because suddenly she just wasn’t there.
“Look, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” I said. “You can come on back if you want.” I waved my arm in the space where she’d been, and if anyone had seen me, they’d think I had lost my wits completely. Maybe they’d be right. “I know you’re here somewhere, Augusta Goodnight. You might as well make yourself known.”
She didn’t reappear, but suddenly the radio came on, and when I heard the music, I had to laugh. The vocalist was singing “Fools Rush in Where Angels Fear to Tread.”
I was still smiling when I turned into the rutted gravel drive to my apartment. My stomach reminded me it was after six o’clock. I hurried inside to let out the dog. Robbie, the little boy who lived behind us, had promised to take Hairy out at noon, but I knew the puppy would be scratching at the door after being cooped up.
But Hairy Brown wasn’t there. I knew he wasn’t there before I opened the door because he usually whimpers as soon as he hears my key, then throws himself upon me as I step inside.
“Hairy?” I stood in the living room and called his name,
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