Clover Autrey

This is my first short (really short) story for the The Scheherazade Project. The theme was dialog so I wrote this entirely in dialog for fun. I've never done that before. Enjoy.

"Just do it. Get rid of them."
"No."
"Look. He's coming back any minute."
"Then you do it."
"No."
"You can't have those when he gets back. Toss 'em somewhere. Just get rid of them. He'll never know."
"Can't. I tried that already."
"He caught ya?"
"It was bad. And he knows where to check now."
"Then you've got no choice. Better just do it."
"No."
"You're never gonna get out. That's crazy. Just give in."
"I can't. I just can't do it."
"Crap. He's coming. You got to get rid of them and you gotta do it fast. Hurry. Shhh. What are you doing? That's not what I meant. Oh, man, you're dead. You are so dead."
"Shut up."
"You're an idiot. You're never gonna get away with it. You think it was bad before."
"I don't care. I'm not going to do it."
"Man. It's that bad?"
"I'll never do it. Never."
"Okay. Um. Let me think."
"You'll help me?"
"I don't know. I'll try. Crap. I just . . . Can you get them back out of there?"
"I . . . no."
"You're dead."
"Do you think, if I did it now, it'd be okay?"
"Can't go back now."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"What if . . ."
"He's coming."
"Shhh. He won't know."
"Right. I'm outta here."
"Hey . . .!"

"Johnnie? Why are there peas in your pocket?"

Something is wrong with my beautiful navigator. Sometimes it will start, sometimes it just doesn't. Very frustrating. Two days ago right when I was about to go to work, I turned the key . . . and nothing. My husband was across town trying to save a deal that he eventually walked out on because the buyers were trying to be dishonest. (I'm so proud of him for that even though we really need the money) Dang dishonest people. Anyway, my neighbours were out of town. I really didn't want to call anyone, but I spy my 8 year old's bike lying on the lawn. Hhmmmm. My work is only 5 mins. away by car. Then again, this is Texas in the middle of the afternoon in July. I haven't ridden a bike in years and this one isn't even my size. Oh, whatever. I'm late. And darn it, I'm dependable. So I grab the bike and off I go.

I'm certain I looked like an idioit. An overweight 40 year old flying down the street on a child's bike. My daughter, 15, was mortified when I told her what I did. Of course, for flavor, I added that all her friends were honking and waving at me. That didn't happen but it was fun seeing the mortified look on A's face.

I made it to work in 20 minutes. Then I was red faced and sweating for another hour. Very professional. But what can you do?

Pat said the car started right up for him when he got home. Figures. We already checked the battery. It is fine, but the lugs were corroded. We cleaned those and hoped that would fix it, but now it is an intermittent problem. Sometimes it starts, sometimes it doesn't. I'm taking it in to the shop tomorrow. More money we don't have down the gutter. Ah, typical life. But for work today, I am prepared. If the nav doesn't start, I've already pumped the tire on my ten-speed.