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Reading books MYSTERY & CRIMEHowever, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others.
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Read books online » Mystery & Crime » A Life for a Life by Lynda McDaniel (best selling autobiographies .txt) 📖

Book online «A Life for a Life by Lynda McDaniel (best selling autobiographies .txt) đŸ“–Â». Author Lynda McDaniel



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windows and let out a bad smell.

We didn’t talk about anything serious after that. We laughed at stuff we saw along the way, like a hand-painted sign that said “Entrance Only. Do Not Enter.” And another one that read “New Image Plumbing.” That made us all think of butt cracks, which really cracked us up.

They talked a lot about the beautiful scenery along the way, and I had to agree. I grew up in the mountains, but I’d never been to that area before. I really liked seeing the way the clouds dipped down into the valleys and the jagged mountain tops rippled along the edge of the sky. When we got to Boone, there were a lot of weird looking kids wandering round, but some nice tall buildings, too. Seven stories. So far, the tallest building I’d ever seen—not on TV—was two stories.

“There it is,” Della shouted, pointing at a wood-sided shop with big picture windows. “Looks as though there’s a parking lot in the next block.”

We all piled out of the car and headed back to the store. I’d never been in one, but I imagined it would be kinda like libraries I’d seen on TV. (We didn’t have one in town and our school was too small for one.) The first thing that struck me was the smell. A really nice mix of paper and leather and waxed wooden floors, like the ones in Della’s store. And if I squinted at all the shelves of books, they looked like crazy quilts hanging on the walls—the way some of the books stood upright and others leaned at an angle. I felt right at home.

We each went off in our own direction. I started toward the children’s section in the back, but then a book about short line railroads caught my eye. I looked through that one, and then I noticed a book on car repair. I spent all my time going from one book to another—mostly looking at the pictures but reading some, too. There was even one on the history of the Rolling Store. I took it over to show Della, who was in the local section looking at books about hiking and visiting the mountains. I couldn’t imagine why she wanted that—she could’ve asked her customers for free.

“Would you like that book, Abit? I’d love to have it, too. If I get it, we could share it. I’d like to know more about rolling stores.”

“I don’t know if I could read it all that much, but I’d like to look at the pictures.”

“I bet you could read more than you think. We could read it together.”

Man, it was shaping up to be another great day. And it got better. We ate in a really nice restaurant, and Alex treated us. I had something called a club sandwich that was held together with little toothpicks dressed up with green curls. And fries. I loved fries, and Mama never made ‘em. We all got hot fudge sundaes, too. We didn’t even have to split them—Alex got us each one of our own.

On the ride home, Della showed us the books she’d bought—not just the Rolling Store book but also that one about the mountains, two novels, and a cookbook on how to grill fish.

“Alex, what did you get?” I asked.

“I’ve got a home full of books, Abit, so I’m trying to resist buying more. Who knows, maybe I’ll move someday, and I won’t be able to take all the ones I’ve already got.” He looked funny at me, but I wasn’t sure why. “But I couldn’t resist this one.” He nodded at Della, who handed me a book. “I got it for you,” he added. “An early birthday present.”

The cover had a bunch of pictures of things like stamps, coins, and such. And I could read the title: The Collector’s Guide to Everything. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure it was about collecting things, but I wasn’t into stamps or coins or silver coffee pots. Even so, it was really nice of him to think of me. I saw him look at me again in the rearview mirror.

“Turn to page fifty-four.”

My heart nearabout stopped. Hubcaps. Lots of pictures of hubcaps—some even from as far back as 1915. Twenty pages of all kinds of hubcaps and what to look for. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t ever got a present that were so, well, me! I felt pretty choked up, so I grabbed my handkerchief and acted like I just had to sneeze.

“Good! Glad you like it, Abit,” Alex said.

I asked Della about the mountain guidebook, why she didn’t just ask her customers about our neck of the woods.

“That makes a lot of sense, Abit. I guess this trip was a wild goose chase since I didn’t really find out anything new.”

“But then we wouldn’t have had this great day together,” I said. Nobody said much after that. Just as well that we rode home in peace, because nothin’ would be the same after that.

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image June 1985
  Chapter 53: Abit
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Mama baked my favorite cake—apple nut—for my sixteenth birthday. She made the icing by boiling brown sugar and butter and evaporated milk and poured it on the day before so it could soak down into the cake. Usually, she had to hide the leftovers from me, but that year it was pretty well picked over. I didn’t mind because instead of a sorry little celebration with just the three of us, we all got together like a big family, including Della, Cousin Ned, and even Cleva. She knew Mama from way back. Actually, everybody in town knew each other, except for Alex, who came back just for my birthday!

Mama and Daddy gave me a watch, and Della slipped fifty bucks inside a funny card. Cleva handed me a card with a note about how she was gonna coach me through the driving rule book. (Cousin Ned had already gave me one, and I’d started studying on my own, but I sure needed help.) And the best surprise was driving lessons from Alex. In the Merc! He’d checked with Mama and Daddy first, and they said sure. I bet they did, so happy they wouldn’t have to keep telling me no.

We didn’t waste any time getting started. The next day, Alex knocked on our door, and said howdy to Mama and Daddy and thanked them for last night. He was real polite like that. Then we headed out.

“So where do you want to drive to?” Alex asked, handing me the keys.

“I’ve been thinking about that, and I want to go back to the Rollin’ Store route, the one I showed you. I want folks to see me driving, and besides, it’s out of all the traffic.” He snorted for some reason; maybe he was allergic to what was bloomin’ now. I got that sometimes.

Anyways, I sat behind the wheel and turned the key. The feeling was hard to describe—powerful, grownup, fun, all at the same time. As I slowly pulled out of the driveway, I noticed the curtain in our big front window moved. I did all right with the gears, and Alex didn’t even seem to mind when I ground ‘em a time or two. “I’ve done that before,” was all he said.

I gave a toot-toot as we passed the Ledford’ place, where Mrs. Ledford was working on some flower beds out front. I could tell she couldn’t figure out who we were, but then Roy saw me and started laughing. I bet I looked a sight driving that Merc. I waved and laughed right along with him. Then Mrs. Ledford came a running, so I pulled over at a turnout and rolled down the window.

“Honey, just look at you. All growed up and driving. Ms. Kincaid said you were having your sixteenth.”

It felt good to know that Della had bothered to tell anyone about my birthday. I put the car in park and jumped out and hugged her. I don’t know what came over me; I just felt so damned happy. I introduced them all to Alex, though they might’ve met already at the store. Everyone was smiling and nodding.

“V.J. is getting his first driving lesson,” Alex said, patting me on the back. They looked at each other, puzzled by that name, but then they seemed to get it. I figured Mrs. Ledford would be calling me that from then on. We said our goodbyes and got back in the car. Alex showed me about the emergency brake, which was a good idea, he said, when parked on a slope. I eased the car back on to the road, and we traveled the rest of my route, waving at more of the customers, but not stopping. I loved being behind the wheel.

Just as we rounded a bend outside of Beaverdam, I shouted, “Whoa! Hold on a minute. I’ve got to see this.” I pulled ahead into a wide spot next to some rhododendron and cut that noisy engine. I loved that car, but it was a rattletrap. “I don’t want them to hear us.”

“Who?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” I whispered. I got out, real quiet-like, and crept along the bushes. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Kitt, that woman who owned the art store, and Blanche Scoggins, the nasty laundromat woman, were hugging. It looked as though Kitt had been crying, and Blanche was patting her on the back. I knew that hug was about more than Kitt losing her favorite sock in the washer. They sure didn’t seem like strangers to one another.

I couldn’t imagine what was going on. Not that I get out much, but if they’d knowed each other, seemed to me word would’ve got round. I went back to the car, started it up, and got the hell out of there. I couldn’t wait to tell Della about this. I explained everything to Alex on the ride back.

“Well, maybe Kitt got to know Blanche through the laundromat.”

“Trust me, that wouldn’t make them friends. That woman Blanche is a terror to her customers.”

“Okay, maybe they met through church, or somewhere.”

“Do them two look like they go to church?”

“Those two. Did you say anything to them?”

I looked at him like he was crazy. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Yes, you were,” he said. It took me a minute to get that one, and then we both had a good laugh. But that was all Alex said the rest of the way home, except when he pointed out that I was following someone too close.

When we pulled into the store’s driveway, Alex told me I was a natural behind the wheel. I parked, got out of the car, and handed him the keys. I stuck out my hand and said, “Thanks for the lesson, Alex.” He smiled real big and shook my hand before heading upstairs to let Jake out. I ran inside to talk with Della, who looked surprised, too, when I told her my news.

“I never heard Blanche or Kitt say—or even intimate—they knew each other,” Della said.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Maybe Blanche befriended Kitt.” We both looked at each and shook our heads.

“I just got

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