I heard the sound of squeaking brakes and glanced back to see a dark red pickup truck. I stopped. An elderly-looking man leaned out of the passenger's side window.
"Hey, you all right, miss?" he asked.
"No," I said, catching my breath. 'I'm lost."
"Oh. Well, where you headed?"
r /> "I have to get back to Hickory," I said. I took a few steps toward the truck. "To 777 North Castle Drive."
"Hickory? Well, what are you doing running along this road?" he asked.
"Some friends of mine thought it would be funny to put me out on the road and leave me." I said, thinking quickly,
"You damn kids," he said. He opened the truck door. "C'mon, get in," he urged.
All my life. I had been taught never to speak to strangers, and certainly never to go anywhere with someone I didn't know. It was practically a religious chant as I was growing up. Every time we saw a terrible story on the television news. Mama would turn to me and recite it. Daddy often did. too. But this was a special circumstance. I thought. I really was lost, and the man offering me a ride looked like someone's grandfather.
I got into the truck.
"How old are you?" he asked immediately.
"Fifteen, nearly sixteen," I said.
"Your parents know you're running around out here?"
"No, sir. That's why I have to get home as fast as I can."
"I bet you do." he said, and shifted into drive to start off again. "What's your name?"
"April. April Taylor."
"What kind of friends would do a thing like this to you?"
"Not very good friends," I replied.
"You got that right. I ain't in the habit of picking up stray teenage girls, but if I didn't stop. Mrs. Petersen would be awful angry," he said.
"Who's Mrs. Petersen?"
"That's my misses." he said. "We have a granddaughter who's about your age."
"I do appreciate your stopping for me," I said. I was on the verge of crying but held my tears back and my sobs down.
"Yeah. I bet you do. Can you call someone to come get you?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Okay. I'll take you to the Four Corners strip mall just this side of the highway. You can call from there. You have money on you?"
I did. I always carried a ten-dollar bill in my pocket. It was something Daddy gave me and told me to do always.
"Yes. sir," I said.
"Sir?" He laughed and looked at me. "You look like you've been in some panic. Better straighten yourself up a bit before your folks come for you." he advised. "So, what is wrong with you young people today?" he asked, and then proceeded to give me his answers, which included lack of discipline, spoiling children rotten, parents who were too self-centered, and a reduction in church attendance. He lectured in a monotone that, strangely enough, had a calming effect on me.
I thanked him when he pulled into the parking lot.
"You watch who you hang out with, young lady," he warned. And then he added something that made me laugh. "It only takes one rotten apple to spoil the bunch."