Page 29 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin's Duet

“I don’t break my word, Tanya,” Rory said stubbornly.

A vein pulsed in Saverin’s neck. “Listen here, you little–”

“We’ll throw our own party next week to make up for it,” Gwen consoled her boyfriend. “Tanya’s right. We better just stay low until we get the money.”

“I guess,” mumbled Rory. “But damn me if the Clamsons don’t make the best cracklins I ever tasted.”

“They’re idiots,”Saverin said to Tanya as they marched back to his truck.

Her lips twitched. “They’re just young.”

“I bet you dollars to donuts they’ll go to that party anyway.”

“You’re probably right,” said Tanya wearily. “I can’t control Gwen if she runs her mouth. All I can control is my ticket.”

Saverin unlocked his truck. Maybe he ought to take Tanya to the office today and claim the prize before Gwen and Rorywent blabbing all over the trailer park. “You still have the ticket, right?” he asked Tanya grimly.

“Of course,” Tanya snapped. “It’s in my—” She froze, then bolted like a rabbit back towards the trailer. She emerged a minute later, looking haunted.

“Where was it?” Saverin asked as the steel knot of tension in his chest relaxed.

“I’m embarrassed to say.” Tanya unfurled the delicate scrap of paper carefully. The numbers and barcode still looked fresh. Her hands trembled.

“It won’t happen again,” Saverin said. “Right?”

“Right.” Tanya put the paper gently into her little zip-up clutch. Saverin was tempted to offer to hold it for her, but he kept his mouth shut. It still didn’t feel real. Tanya, a millionaire. Tanya, winning the lottery. Her whole life was gonna change. She was rich, maybe as rich as he was now. Imagine that. Did these things really happen?

But Saverin was a realist. He opened the truck door for her and she climbed up. Nothing was certain until she got the money in hand.

“Now I can find Amari,” Tanya said, hope surging in her voice. It was the first time she had mentioned his name since she learned about her winnings, but Saverin knew the fate of her son was always foremost on Tanya’s mind.

“I’m gonna take this money and find my baby, Saverin.”

“Be careful, Tanya. There’s many who’d take your money for a song.”

“I know that,” she snapped. She wove her fingers through the air rushing past the window. “I know that,” she repeated, softly.

“There’s another thing,” Saverin said. “Today there might be a dust-up with the McCalls. I want you to lie low until I get back.”

Brown eyes cut into him. “Is that why you’re going to Rowanville?”

“No,” he said.

Saverin tookTanya somewhere he was sure she’d be safe. He brought her to Wilks Johnny’s house. The main road was deserted, but he took the back crossings anyway. Of course the eyes in the trees might be watching still, informing hostile minds of his position. There was still some darkness on the road, the mist from the night not yet cleared. He hoped it gave enough cover. He wanted Tanya away from whatever dark deeds his cousins were cooking up in these hills.

Passing Sarah Jane’s house, he took a bad road down, down, deep into a wall of great white pine. There lived an old Black veteran named Wilks Johnny. The old badger had no allegiance to any McCalls, Green Trees or Snatch Hills. Saverin guided the Legacy down the holler road, which was lonely and overgrown, the last vehicle to break apart the vines and overhanging branches being his own truck, just yesterday. Tanya would be safe here…if she stayed put and did as she was told.

They found Wilks Johnny awake. He was an early riser like most old mountain folks. He sat on his porch in his wheelchair with his coffee and his Bible. From the even look he gave Saverin as the truck came into view it was certain he’d heard them coming for a minute. In a quiet place like this every sound on the wind caught the old man’s sharp ears. His equally sharp eyes moved from Saverin to Tanya as they approached.

“Strange time for a social call,” Wilks Johnny said. He casually flicked a blanket over the shiny knobs of his amputated legs and added, “I take it you ain’t here to fix my roof.”

Somewhat awkwardly Saverin said, “Morning, sir. This is Tanya, you met her yesterday.”

“She was asleep, as I recall.”

“Good morning,” said Tanya politely, glaring another dagger at Saverin.

The old man marked his place in Corinthians with a gnarled finger. “So how can I help you, Bailey? Missy?”

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