The Maine Events by Rodney Riesel (spanish books to read .TXT) 📗

minutes, and then the one Allen figured wasthe boss got into a black Dodge Ram 3500 and drove off.

The last man standing removed his hard hat and looked overat the motel, and then walked over to Cam and Mildred. They chatted for awhile. It looked as though they laughed a few times. Allen wondered if Cam hadtold Mildred about the altercation with Tubbs and Spoon.

At one point all three of them looked in Allen's direction.Allen waved, and all three of them waved back. It was a good bet that theconstruction worker was Jacob's father. It was also obvious to Allen that Camwas filling the construction worker in on the new guy who had moved into roomnumber eleven. He wondered what Cam was saying about him.

Jacob's mom caught Allen's attention. She was crossing theparking lot with a small hibachi charcoal grill. Allen remembered his familyhaving one just like it when he was a kid. She placed the grill at one end ofthe picnic table.

Jacob's dad shouted something to her. He shook Cam's handand hurried across the street to his wife. Together they walked back to themotel. Jacob's dad returned to the picnic table a few times carrying a bag ofcharcoal, lighter fluid, ketchup, mustard, a couple bags of chips, and finallya plate of raw hamburger patties.

Allen went back inside and grabbed two more slices of pizza.He returned to the walkway and sat back down.

Jacob's dad lit the charcoal and sat down on the bench. Heglanced up at Allen a few times. From that distance Allen guessed the man's ageat around thirty-five or six.

A little while later Jacob's mom brought the baby out. Shespread a blanket on the grass, put the baby down, and tossed a few toys on theblanket. The kid crawled over and picked up a ball about the size of abaseball. Mom went back into their room and came back out with some paperplates and a plastic container of something. Allen wondered if it was potatosalad.

When the fire had gone down and the coals had turned white,Jacob's dad tossed the patties onto the grill.

Allen stuffed the last bite of crust into his mouth, and heand Frankie walked back into their room.

“Shall we watch a little television, Frankie” Allen asked.He sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He snatched up the remoteand hit the power button.

“What should we watch?” He flipped through the channels. “FamilyGuy? The Office? Doesn't look like they get the YES Network here.Too bad. We could have watched the Yanks every night.” He stopped on a classicepisode of The Andy Griffith Show on Sundance TV—the one where Barneybrags he can still remember the preamble to the Constitution of the UnitedStates word for word.

Allen chuckled. “Watch this, Frankie. This is hilarious.” Heglanced over at the dog. Frankie was staring at him. “I know, I'll startwriting tomorrow. I promise. Just watch this.”

Frankie turned his head toward the TV, and the two watchedas Barney pretends to recite the preamble, even while Andy, using an old textbook,has to prompt him on the very first word, and every phrase thereafter. Barneygets so frazzled in his charade that by the end of the scene, his hair lookslike he stuck his finger in a light socket.

“I don't know how Andy keeps a straight face, Frankie.”Laughing, Allen turned to the dog. Frankie had fallen asleep. Again.

Less than an hour later, Allen was awakened by a knock atthe door.

“It's Jacob!”

“Come on in!” Allen called out.

“The door's locked.”

Allen scooted off the end of the bed. “I gotta teach you toopen doors, Frankie.”

“Is it still okay if I take Frankie for a walk?”

Allen turned to the dog. “You wanna go for a walk, Frankie?”he asked.

Frankie leapt off the bed and ran to Jacob's side.

“I guess that's a yes,” said Allen. He grabbed the leash offthe table and handed it to Jacob. “Where are you taking him?”

“Just over to my friend's house,” Jacob replied, pointing.“He lives over that way, behind the motel. It's just like a block away.”

“Is this the friend you weren't looking at that piece ofpaper with yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“He live here in town, or is his family here on vacation?”

“He lives here all the time.”

“What's his name?”

“Oliver.”

“Last name?”

“Dutcher.”

“How'd you meet him?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“It's the only way to get a lot of answers.”

“He was riding his skateboard out front one day and so wasI.”

“How long you think you'll be gone?”

“I don't know.”

“Okay, try not to be any longer than that.”

Jacob nodded, and he and Frankie ran down the walkway to thestairs.

Allen looked over at his laptop. Maybe I could write abook about a family who comes to Maine, he thought. Maybe they come up tovisit the dad while he's away at work. Bor-ing!

He left the door open and walked back to the bed, fallingface first into the blankets. His arm hung over the edge of the bed. Think,think, think! he lay there thinking. Maybe I should write a book about anold man named Cam who can kick the shit out of armed bad guys.

“Mr. Crane?” said a voice from the doorway.

“Yeah?” Allen replied, still face down, his voice muffled.“What can I do for you?”

“My name is Bobby Jordan.”

“The Bobby Jordan? I've waited so long for a formalintroduction.”

“Now is not the time for tomfoolery.”

“Tom Foolery is in the next room down. This room belongs toWise N. Heimer.”

“Turn over, Mr. Crane.”

Allen's right arm hung over the bed. He knew he could rollover and yank his 9mm. out from under the mattress. He also knew that if hedidn't do it now, he may never get another chance. Allen slowly turned halfwayonto his right side. He left his arm over the edge of the bed.

Bobby Jordan stood in the doorway. Maybe someone else was onthe walkway, but it looked like he was alone. He was dressed in blue jeans andsneakers, with a red and blue windbreaker zipped almost to his chin.

“May I come in?” Jordan asked.

“Me casa is your motel,” Allen responded. He decided not topull the weapon and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Jordan stepped