Twenty minutes later, Bill could see the main highway, as he drove down the incline that connected the dirt road to the highway.
Something in his rear-view mirror caught his attention. A cloud of dust was quickly coming toward him.
"Probably that crazy Freddy Simpson," he commented aloud, as he pulled over to the right as far as he could.
He watched as a car literally took to the air, as it crested the incline. It hit hard, directly across from him, bounced a couple times and stopped, mere feet from the highway, angling across the road, blocking Bill's path to the highway.
Bill put the truck in park and stared at the car.
"What the fuck?"
Bill did recognize the car.
As the dust settled, he could see a figure walking toward the truck.
It was Matty.
And she looked pissed.
Matty pointed at Bill.
"Get out of the truck."
Bill checked to make sure the windows were up and the doors locked.
Matty pulled on the door handle of the truck. It would not open.
She glared inside.
"Get out of the truck, William."
William? Now Bill knew she was pissed.
He looked at the road ahead, wondering if he could get around Matty's car.
"There's no way out, William."
She slammed her fists on the window.
"So help me. If you don't haul that skinny ass out of that truck, I'll ..."
She started looking at the ground around the truck.
Bill continued to watch in silence, as Matty walked around the truck, continuing to stare down at the road.
Finally she sprinted across the dirt road and bent over. When she stood again, Bill could see that she had a large rock rock in her right hand.
"Aw fuck."
Matty started walking back toward the truck. She held up the rock, so Bill could see it.
"You have ten seconds to get out of that truck before I start smashing windows."
"Matty, please."
"Nine, eight, seven ..."
"Matty be sensible about this."
"Four, three, two."
Matty pulled back her arm.
Bill put up his hands.
"Okay. Okay."
He unlocked the door.
Matty threw the rock over the top of the truck and opened the truck's door.
YOU ARE READING
Tuckamore Bay
General FictionMatty Dove had 18 months to try and find a buyer for her late grandmother's lighthouse. A buyer who, she hoped, would not only buy the lighthouse, but love the village so much that they would invest time and money into saving the community. In 18 mo...
