Pete cranked the window down before he became dizzy from the fumes.

Vern grinned at Pete. It was the first time the big man’s friendly eyes had really inspected Pete. “That’s a real nice hat you wear.”

Pete removed the big hat and observed it. It was buckskin, with a leather strip of rawhide tied around the crown. The hatband had been stuffed with newspaper so that it would fit his boyish head. “It was my daddy’s.”

“Where’s your daddy?”

Pete looked at the night sky. “Way up there somewhere.”

Vern looked at the stars through the windshield. “Mine too.”

Twenty-Five
Judgment Days

Paul glanced into the rearview mirror. Vern and Pete were close behind. He checked his speedometer, careful to keep the needle three ticks above the number twenty. Twenty-three was his lucky number when it came to gas mileage. Whenever the truck went too far over that speed, the old thing started burning oil and making strange noises that sounded like someone was hiding beneath the hood with a short-barrel shotgun.

Paul reached for a cigarette and found that the pack in his shirt pocket was empty. He almost swore, but the woman was in the passenger seat next to him. He tossed the carton out the window and looked at Baby Ruth, bouncing in the woman’s arms. He forced a smile.

Baby Ruth wasn’t crying anymore, but she wasn’t calm either. She was fidgety but lethargic. Much like he was feeling.

“You know,” said the woman. “I realized I don’t even know your full name.”

But Paul didn’t answer. He wasn’t trying to be rude, he simply was too busy patting his pockets for a cigarette. He was certain he had one lying around somewhere. He looked on the dashboard and between the seats. He searched the floorboards and found nothing. He finally gave up searching. He pulled in a breath of air and mumbled an ugly word through gritted teeth in a whisper.

“Where’d you find this little girl?” Eulah asked.

“Who, Baby Ruth?”

“You don’t have to call her that, you know. Pete just gets excited about things sometimes. He daydreams and comes up with these ridiculous ideas.”

Paul smiled. “It’s a good name, Ruth. My grandmother’s name was Ruth.”

“Really?”

“No, I just made that up. Her name was Josephine, and she was the devil.”

Paul dug into his shirt pocket and showed her the folded newspaper clipping.

Eulah scanned it and said, “Good heavens. A mother leaves her baby, and in these hard times. This world is in big trouble, ain’t it?”

“Worst trouble I ever seen.”

“People don’t act civil no more.”

“No, they don’t, and nobody trusts nobody.”

“You reckon these is the Judgment Days?”

Paul shrugged. “Maybe.”