car. The boy followed her stare, his smile of reassurance fading.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Helen turned to the youngster, speaking quickly. “Look, maybe you can get it fixed. I’ll pay for it—”
“That’s okay.” The youngster’s smile returned for a moment, then disappeared once more as he peered uncertainly around the dusk-dimmed parking area. “Do you think maybe you could give me a lift home? Before it gets dark?”
“Of course.” Helen nodded, then glanced at her car trunk frowning. “I’m afraid there’s no room for your bike, though. I’m moving and the backseat is loaded. The rest of my things are in the trunk.”
“I can get it tomorrow.” The boy bent down, tugging the bike free from beneath the tire, then dragged it across the lot and leaned it up against the wall of the café.
“You’re sure it’ll be safe there?” Helen said.
“Yeah. No sweat.” The youngster returned, moving around the side of the car to the passenger door. He waited while Helen slid into the driver’s seat and leaned over to unlock the door, then pushed it open so that he could enter.
As he settled down beside her, closing the door, she released the brake and started up the motor again. The car moved forward to the edge of the road. There it halted as Helen glanced at her passenger.
“Which way?” she asked.
“Make a left.” The youngster nodded up at her. “The same way you’re going.”
Helen blinked. “How do you know which way I’m going?”
“I heard you talking back there.”
“Did you now? You’ve got good ears.”
The car picked up speed, moving down the road in the gathering twilight. There was no traffic and as Helen switched on her headlights, their glow seemed to emphasize the darkness of the lonely countryside ahead.
She peered through the windshield, waiting to catch a glimpse of the filling station that the counterman had mentioned, but now she felt the boy’s hand nudge her arm.
“Turn here,” he said, indicating a side road branching off through the trees at their right.
Helen slowed the car, glancing dubiously at the narrow lane revealed in the headlights’ beam.
The boy sensed her indecision. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not far now.”
Helen turned off into the opening between the trees, then turned the headlights up to bright as she steered a cautious course along the rutted roadway.
Beside her the boy glanced up again. “Are you moving to Willoughby?” he asked.
Helen glanced at him, amused. “You heard me say that, too, I guess.”
He nodded. “How come you left Homewood?”
Helen hesitated, as for a moment her amusement faded. The little devil—he really had been listening! But that didn’t give the kid the right to pry into her business.
Then again, what difference did it make? Might as well answer—if she could. Why had she left Homewood? A good question.
She shrugged, searching for the right words. “I don’t know—I guess I was looking for something and didn’t find it there.”
The boy nodded. “What about your folks?”
“They’re both gone.”
“You mean they’re dead?”
Helen nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“Oh.” There was a note of concern in the small voice now. “Don’t you have anybody?”
“Not anymore. I’m all alone.”
Beside her the boy sat silent for a moment. Then, suddenly, he held out his hand, smiling.
“My name is Anthony,” he said.
Helen released her right hand from the steering wheel and gripped the small palm in her own. “Helen,” she said.
Anthony turned gravely. “I’m very glad to meet you, Helen.”
Now Helen turned her attention to the roadway once again. The car bumped along the narrow lane between the black border of towering trees.
“You really live quite aways out here, don’t you?” Helen glanced down. “Your parents must be getting worried about you.”
“Not really.”
“No?”
Anthony shook his head. “They don’t care when I come home. I could come home
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Helen turned to the youngster, speaking quickly. “Look, maybe you can get it fixed. I’ll pay for it—”
“That’s okay.” The youngster’s smile returned for a moment, then disappeared once more as he peered uncertainly around the dusk-dimmed parking area. “Do you think maybe you could give me a lift home? Before it gets dark?”
“Of course.” Helen nodded, then glanced at her car trunk frowning. “I’m afraid there’s no room for your bike, though. I’m moving and the backseat is loaded. The rest of my things are in the trunk.”
“I can get it tomorrow.” The boy bent down, tugging the bike free from beneath the tire, then dragged it across the lot and leaned it up against the wall of the café.
“You’re sure it’ll be safe there?” Helen said.
“Yeah. No sweat.” The youngster returned, moving around the side of the car to the passenger door. He waited while Helen slid into the driver’s seat and leaned over to unlock the door, then pushed it open so that he could enter.
As he settled down beside her, closing the door, she released the brake and started up the motor again. The car moved forward to the edge of the road. There it halted as Helen glanced at her passenger.
“Which way?” she asked.
“Make a left.” The youngster nodded up at her. “The same way you’re going.”
Helen blinked. “How do you know which way I’m going?”
“I heard you talking back there.”
“Did you now? You’ve got good ears.”
The car picked up speed, moving down the road in the gathering twilight. There was no traffic and as Helen switched on her headlights, their glow seemed to emphasize the darkness of the lonely countryside ahead.
She peered through the windshield, waiting to catch a glimpse of the filling station that the counterman had mentioned, but now she felt the boy’s hand nudge her arm.
“Turn here,” he said, indicating a side road branching off through the trees at their right.
Helen slowed the car, glancing dubiously at the narrow lane revealed in the headlights’ beam.
The boy sensed her indecision. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not far now.”
Helen turned off into the opening between the trees, then turned the headlights up to bright as she steered a cautious course along the rutted roadway.
Beside her the boy glanced up again. “Are you moving to Willoughby?” he asked.
Helen glanced at him, amused. “You heard me say that, too, I guess.”
He nodded. “How come you left Homewood?”
Helen hesitated, as for a moment her amusement faded. The little devil—he really had been listening! But that didn’t give the kid the right to pry into her business.
Then again, what difference did it make? Might as well answer—if she could. Why had she left Homewood? A good question.
She shrugged, searching for the right words. “I don’t know—I guess I was looking for something and didn’t find it there.”
The boy nodded. “What about your folks?”
“They’re both gone.”
“You mean they’re dead?”
Helen nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“Oh.” There was a note of concern in the small voice now. “Don’t you have anybody?”
“Not anymore. I’m all alone.”
Beside her the boy sat silent for a moment. Then, suddenly, he held out his hand, smiling.
“My name is Anthony,” he said.
Helen released her right hand from the steering wheel and gripped the small palm in her own. “Helen,” she said.
Anthony turned gravely. “I’m very glad to meet you, Helen.”
Now Helen turned her attention to the roadway once again. The car bumped along the narrow lane between the black border of towering trees.
“You really live quite aways out here, don’t you?” Helen glanced down. “Your parents must be getting worried about you.”
“Not really.”
“No?”
Anthony shook his head. “They don’t care when I come home. I could come home
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