CHAPTER 3
CHANGE OF PLANS
Nightfall forced a greater strain on Helensview’s power grid as the last holdouts finally threw on their lights. The night ate away at what little remained of day, stars filling the increasingly inky sky. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Chase watched the orange in the western sky diminish to light blue, and then to nothing.
What the hell was taking Dylan so long?
Boredom eventually geared his attention further west, where a majority of the lights shone. They seemed a little too far away for walking distance. If Dylan really wanted to locate the town bar, he would have quite the walk ahead of him. The fact that there were no neighborhoods immediately behind the gas station meant that Chase would see Dylan coming back toward the truck eventually.
Unless he’s gotten a local gal to give him a ride and decided not to tell me, thought Chase.
Thus, the younger Weaverson had to be screwing around in there, as always. Why did Dylan always have to lollygag like this? Any longer and Chase would have to wait until the morning to finish the drive. Packing everything they owned into the back of the truck earlier in the day had already drained him enough.
He watched the long line at the pumps slowly dwindle. Cars sped out of the lot, kicking up dirt clouds and gravel. Flying debris nicked Chase’s pick-up at least three times. A rock cracked his windshield.
“Damn it!” Chase pounded his fist against the horn, its blare his response to all the crap he’d contended with throughout the day.
At that moment, Dylan hopped back into the truck. He held a six-pack of beer in one hand and a grin on his face.
“Geez, dude, you didn’t have to honk your horn at me. I was already on my way back,” he said.
“I wasn’t honking at you,” Chase said. “I was…oh, never mind. Couldn’t wait to party until after we got to Grains Plains, eh?” He shook his head in disbelief.
Dylan removed a can from the rest of the pack. His finger flirted with the tab, poised to pull it toward him so that he could enjoy the sweet contents within.
“Change of plans. There’s a motel up the road from here. We can stay the night and get to Ma and Pa’s tomorrow.”
Glaring at Dylan’s cargo, Chase pursed his lips.
“Don’t open that beer in here while I’m driving. Or have you forgotten that the police are still watching me? I don’t need to give them any ammunition.”
“I know, Chase. That’s why we have to change our plans.” Dylan’s smile held strong.
Chase gnashed his teeth as the urge to deck Dylan oozed from his brain to his knuckles. The night in which Chase had sworn off all alcohol flared in his mind as Dylan snapped the can open.
“Mind rolling up the window? You’re letting the mosquitoes in,” Chase pointed out. So far, only one had flown into the cabin, buzzing about the passenger’s side and steering clear of Chase as if it smartly sensed the fate in store for it on his side.
It wasn’t just the bugs that got to Chase. With the window still rolled down from earlier, gas fumes slowly seeped into the cabin air, enough to blast him with a monster headache. The throbbing remained steady at present, but seemed ready to flare up if left untreated.
What I wouldn’t give for a good night’s rest right about now. Or at least some aspirin to get me through the last leg of this trip, he thought.
“Come on, Chase. It’s getting late. Let’s just go to that motel I’ve heard about. Well, it’s really more of a motor inn than a motel, I guess, but it’ll beat having to drive any more tonight,” Dylan rambled on, bringing his lips to the rim of the can.
“I’m the last person you should be drinking in front of,” Chase said.
He waited as the mosquito finally came within reach of him. A second later, he drew his hand back and let it come crashing down on top of the insect, its hum deadened by the might of Chase’s palm.
“Take that, you son of a bitch!” he said, his voice louder than what he’d intended.
“Uh, dude, it’s just a bug,” Dylan whispered, his beer still perched near his mouth.
Chase cast an annoyed look his brother’s way. “Would you rather I deck you for drinking in my truck?”
The younger Weaverson reeled the beer away from his mouth, spilling a few drops on the seat and floor of Chase’s truck, the tang of beer almost enough to drown out the gasoline smell.
“I’m just looking to have some fun, Chase.”
“Well, stop it. We’ve got a few hours still ahead of us, and I’m not in the mood for your shenanigans.”
“Dude, when did you become such a prude? You never used to act this way seven years ago.”
“I changed, Dylan.”
“I understand that, and I get that you’ve had a rough patch after you went away. But come on, man. Live a little. You’re just barely thirty years old. You still have a lot of life in you, I’m sure.”
Chase heaved a sigh, clenching his teeth to keep from saying the absolute wrong thing to Dylan. An insult would’ve have been so easy to cast out into the open air, the perfect means of sticking it to the younger Weaverson for still embracing a lifestyle Chase himself had been forced to give up back in the day. He glanced at the lights leading into the center of Helensview and the lessening flow of traffic along the highway. People were already getting to their destinations for the evening. The Weaversons probably wouldn’t reach the family farm before midnight.
“What’s that sigh about, Chase? Did you really expect me not to party after you went away?” Dylan grumbled. “I can’t believe I ever thought of you as my hero.”
Chase strangled the keys to the right, firing up the engines in a roar of disgust.
“I’ve found more important things to concern my life with than she-devils, Dylan.”
A big slurp filled the cabin air. Chase didn’t even have to glance over to his right to know that Dylan was deliberately sticking it to him by way of indulgence. As much as the older Weaverson wanted to reach Grains Plains tonight, Dylan was making it damn near impossible. Just opening the beer can itself served as Dylan’s method of challenging Chase. A drive further along Highway 613 might rouse the curiosity of a state trooper, especially if no other cars were on the road at that point.
But by staying in Helensview, and thereby giving in to Dylan’s request, at least Chase would run less risk of a cop pulling him over, asking questions, and smelling the beer fumes in the cabin.
“That’s not cool, Dylan.”
Dylan took another sip before answering. Chase listened to that last swig of beer, the gulp sounding slightly forced. It was like Dylan didn’t take the drink to enjoy it, but to prove a point instead.
“You shouldn’t have called them she-devils, Chase. You took it one step too far,” Dylan said while wiping his mouth dry with his sleeve.
“But they are she-devils, Dylan. Since high school, you’ve done nothing but chase them around. I’m surprised you haven’t caught anything from them.”
“Dude, you introduced me to half of them. You’re not exactly a saint yourself, so don’t you dare get all judgmental on me. Or have you forgotten all about your own sweet-cheeks-chasing ways?”
Chase squeezed hard on the steering wheel. Just because he’d known the thrill of a lusty encounter or two back in his younger days, it didn’t mean he was anything like that today. Despite Dylan’s remark, he was a changed man. So what if no one else thought of him as reformed? He knew what he’d been through, the mistakes he’d made. He certainly wouldn’t let the same things happen twice in his life.
“You’d better not spill any more beer in my truck,” he uttered under his breath.
At that moment, a yawn burst forth from his lungs. Between that and the splitting migraine that dealing with Dylan hadn’t helped alleviate, the day was as good as done in Chase’s eyes. Maybe the night would help to clear the roads of all those crazy drivers, too.
A minute later, they pulled back onto the main street, veering to the right as that direction l
ed further into town. Chase made a quick mental note to call Pa and Ma himself and let them know the brothers would be staying the night in Helensview. He wasn’t about to lend his phone out to someone he couldn’t trust with it.
At least Dylan can’t prattle with one of those she-devils, Chase thought with a smirk.
Between swigs of beer from a second can, Dylan gave Chase directions to a motel, his speech slurring a little. According to the gas station attendant Dylan had bought the beer from, the Helensview Valley Motor Inn was about three miles away to the west. Heading that way, Chase glanced in the side mirror on the passenger’s side while the Mini-Mart disappeared behind the curve of an uphill climb.
As the odometer ticked away the third and final mile, Chase stopped at a red light. Soon after, cars pulled up next to and behind him. Waiting for the signal to turn green, he scanned the immediate area for the motor inn. On the left, a sign with broken neon identified the motel and indicated that vacancies were still available. The turn up ahead from the center two-way lane seemed simple enough.
He started forth to the flicker of a green light and the crack-hiss of Dylan pulling back the tab on a second can. After he slapped on his blinker, the driver behind him laid on the horn.
“What? Is it a crime to signal my turn?” he asked, pulling into the center lane.
Once the oncoming traffic passed, Chase drove in and parked by the manager’s office. He opened his door and climbed out, only to have a woman shriek at him through the rolled-down window of her mini-van. The profanity spewing from her mouth did not complement her sleek, dark hair, her smooth, brown skin, or the unwrinkled blouse she was wearing. Chase would’ve expected such language from friends he’d known some years back, but not from a middle-aged woman.
“Something wrong, ma’am?” He raised his voice just to get a word in over her rapid-mouthed hysteria. The words she used flew at him so fast he couldn’t make sense of what she was saying.
She threw her door open and tore out of her car at near lightning speed. Her high heels clacked against the parking lot pavement as she charged at him. Wagging her finger in his face, she brought her razor-sharp fingernail to within striking distance of his nose.
“You’re too slow! People like you need to stay off the streets!”
Chase sighed as she ranted about everything ranging from his truck to his choice of cologne.
“Look, ma’am.” His tone came out firm. “I’m sorry if I got in your way. It’s not worth stressing out over. But couldn’t you have simply changed lanes if you were in that much of a hurry?”
She clouted him with the full fury of her palm. He went to apologize and she swiped at him again, this time snagging his face with her nail, tearing off a pea-sized chunk of flesh when she yanked her finger back. Chase howled, and then gripped her arm, his other hand covering his injury.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? I said I’m sorry!” Chase ran a hand across where she’d struck him, warm liquid flowing onto his fingers. The folks had taught him never to hit a lady. Though thoughts of this discipline still dominated his mind, instinct pushed him closer toward a darker edge. He clung tightly to the mental image of his parents, and the seething glares of disappointment they’d give him if he struck this woman.
She bared her teeth at him, her eyes sparkling as if with an intent to fill a bloodlust.
“You’re a prick,” she spat, the spittle from her mouth striking Chase between the eyes.
“That was hardly necessary,” he said. He wiped the fluid from where she’d struck him with a sleeve, careful not to close both his eyes and leave himself fully vulnerable to her next assault. Hopefully if he stayed calm, she might regain some semblance of her senses.
“I should rip out your eyes for being a dick!”
Her eyes continued to study him, as though she was looking to see if he really was worth her time. Then, with a snarl, she ran to her car and got in, slamming the door behind her, the confrontation over just as quickly as it had begun.
Chase watched her mini-van zoom in reverse all the way to the roadway, cutting the corner and nearly mowing down a dog walker with a Labrador retriever in tow. A classic convertible swerved into the other lane to avoid a collision with Chase’s parking lot slapper. Twice the mini-van’s engine backfired. The tires squealed a final defiance before the vehicle drove off in the eastbound direction, opposite the way her mini-van had started to turn.
Was everyone losing it today?