Harold knew every turn and every pothole in the road as they barreled on down and caught up with the main road he thought about all the whiskey in the back. He hoped he hadn’t broken anything, not on this run. Every one of these bottles was spoken for. He looked over at the young woman. She was shivering worse than before. He remembered his first aid training about what to do for hypothermia. His face was hot thinking about it but the practical turn of his mind realized that beyond the awkwardness a life was at stake.
“I think you may be suffering from hypothermia or will be if you don’t slip out of that wet,” he paused for the right word. “Those wet close of yours. If you feel around behind the seat there should be another blanket.” He laughed nervously as the girl looked over at him. Her blank stares unnerved him. “Wish you’d say something so I’d know whether you speak English.”
The girl nodded and felt around until she found the extra blanket.
“Round here breaking down can happen quite a lot on these roads. Evelyn is always too cold so she stashes those things everywhere.” Harold kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead humming Ain't She Sweet, the only song he could remember. Then he recalled the words and stopped. Oh he would deserve every poke from the springs from that sofa tonight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the wet blanket and her dress hit the floorboards of his truck.
The girl tapped his shoulder.
“Good. Good. You should be warming up now.” He finished under his breath. “Got help me if not.” The next step in his first aid training was not something he could ever explain to Evelyn, even if she was the one who told him about it. Again he heard Evelyn’s voice in his head.
“It isn’t much further now." He explained. "It may seem kind of strange but I’m going to have to turn the headlamps as we head into town. I’m hauling some cargo of a sensitive nature. It’s better if people don’t notice my truck at this hour. My wife and I run a local hotel. Nothing so grand as the Gilmore but we take care of our own. We got a pretty piece of an ocean view. You’ll like it. It’s the off season so Evelyn, that’s my wife should be able to set you up with a find room for the night till we can sort out what happened to you. If you ask me though we have the prettiest spot on the bay.”
Harold continued to prattle on about anything that popped into his head. He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore but the more he talked the more settled his nerves were and the more peaceful she became became. Her shivering stopped and the last time he looked over her chin was resting on her chest.
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Just as with the first installment of "Rose Berg" this story is in raw first draft form. Comments, constructive especially, are always welcome.
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