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Show 138. "Hold on," he heard someone call. "You're okay! Take it easy!" A strong arm held him back in the seat as his eyes finally focused on the lighted road ahead, then on the figure beside him. "You all right now? You awake?" JD began to tremble. He was in a truck. It wasn't the UFO. It was the cab of a truck and the driver was holding him back against the seat. JD took a deep breath. "Are you okay now?" the man kept saying. JD was so weak he could scarcely nod. Then the shivering grew worse. He held his sides to stop the shaking. "We're pulling into Cheyenne. You want off here or you wanta ride on to Denver?" He remembered saying "Denver." Later, Mai and another truck driver had half-carried him into a cafe and filled him with coffee. "I checked your billfold when we picked you up," the guy they called Mai said. "You were in a heap, you know. I could've run right over you. You going to this Hank Corrigan's? It's the only Denver address we could find on you." Hank Corrigan. JD struggled to remember who Hank Corrigan was. Then he saw Mr. Corrigan's face and the UFO simultaneously, like a double exposure. "No," JD blinked and tried to think what to do. "No, I'm not going to see him. Let me off . . . anywhere." "You don't look so good. You have any people in Denver?" "I'm looking for work," JD said, trying to concentrate. He took a deep drink of the hot coffee. "I have money . . . for a room . . . but I need a job . . ." he stopped talking, realizing he was thinking in circles. What was he doing here anyway? Why was he going to Denver? What had happened to him? Mai had let him off at the Chelsea Hotel - a cheap place for a night or two, he'd said-and asked if he could keep in touch. JD had been there ever since. Now, five months later I'm five years older, JD thought. How did that happen? I was a kid just like anybody else. A kid with all the treats-a nice family, a girl, friends, school. Suddenly I'm a loner and a tag-end, grateful for a librarian and a truck driver who talk to me. |
