Running Out of Time Read online

  Outside, Jessie counted the change the boy had given her. Eleven cents! That couldn’t be right. That meant the drink had cost eighty-nine cents. Pa would have to shoe eight horses to make that much money, and she’d just spent eighty-nine cents on some silly drink. Why, that would buy pounds and pounds of flour at Mr. Seward’s store…. Jessie wanted to go back and tell the Megadeth boy there’d been some mistake. But maybe money wasn’t the same here. She took a drink and the liquid was nice and sweet, as well as pleasantly cool. Yet somehow it was spoiled for her.

  This time Jessie noticed a small blue sign that said TELEPHONE. It was on a rectangular box mounted on a post beyond the car hitching posts. She walked over. The box had the words “Deposit 25 cents” at the top. Jessie looked through her coins until she found one that said “quarter dollar.”

  Jessie lifted the club-thing that Ma had said to put by her ear and mouth. What if she got it upside down? Would she still be able to hear? For a moment, Jessie just stood there feeling strange, but then she dropped her quarter in. The little cup at her ear gave off an annoying buzz. Jessie hoped that was a good sign. She took out the note Ma had given her, with Isaac Neeley’s name and phone number, and began hitting the numbers.

  With each button she pressed, the little cup at her ear gave off a tone. It was like music, she decided.

  The phone gave off another tone, and Jessie waited. Then there was a click.

  “Please dial 1 before this long-distance number,” a woman’s even voice said from the earpiece.

  Jessie jumped. So you really could hear people talking on a phone! She pulled the earpiece away from her ear and looked at it suspiciously. The box and the earpiece were too small for a woman to be hiding inside. And Jessie could see that no one was talking on the other side of the box. How did the voice get in the phone?

  Jessie was so surprised, she forgot what the woman had said.

  “Hello?” Jessie said. “What did you say? Can I talk to Mr. Neeley?”

  Jessie felt foolish talking into the phone. It was like talking to a book or a house or something else that wasn’t alive. Jessie wasn’t used to talking to anything but people. Had she done it right?

  The voice didn’t answer.

  “Hello?” Jessie said again. “I just want to talk to Mr. Neeley. Can you please get him for me?”

  She didn’t know what else to say. Still, no one answered. Jessie wondered if the phone worked after all. Maybe she would have to walk all the way to Indianapolis to talk to Mr. Neeley. But at least someone had talked on the phone…. She heard something falling through the phone. Her coin?

  Jessie took her quarter dollar out of a small door at the bottom. Maybe it was just a bad coin. That happened sometimes. There were counterfeiters around. Jessie had seen men test coins with their teeth to make sure they were real. Now that she noticed, this one didn’t look like real silver.

  Jessie tried another quarter and hit the buttons again. Again, she heard the odd music, the tone, and the click.

  “Please dial 1 before this long-distance number,” the woman said again.

  “A 1?” Jessie said. “Why? I know it’s a long distance. That’s why I’m using the phone—”

  Jessie had the feeling the woman wasn’t listening to her. Her coin fell through the phone again.

  Jessie put the quarter back in. She hit a 1 hesitantly, but nothing happened. She hit the numbers Ma had written out for her to call.

  The odd music and clicks were almost familiar now. A new voice answered: “Please deposit one dollar and forty cents.”

  At least it was something new. Jessie pulled out the rest of her money. One dollar and forty cents was a fortune. But it made sense that it would be expensive to talk to someone forty miles away. Jessie counted out the right amount, then tried to figure out where to put the dollar in the phone.

  “Where?” she asked. “Do you want me to fold up the dollar and put it where the quarter went? I’m afraid it will get stuck—”

  No one answered.

  “Hello?” Jessie said. “I want to give you the money, but I don’t know where to put it.”

  No answer.

  Jessie was worried. If Mr. Neeley stayed on the phone as briefly as everyone else, Jessie would never have a chance to explain about Katie and the others. But she started to fold up the dollar bill, to try to put it in the little quarter hole. In her haste, she knocked some of her coins to the ground. She bent over to pick them up. Seeing all the coins on the ground gave her an idea. She could put one dollar and forty cents in coins into the phone! Jessie felt really smart, until she hit her head on the bottom of the phone standing up. When she listened to the earpiece again, it made a nasty buzzing noise. Had she broken the phone?

  Jessie hung the earpiece back on its cradle, and looked around nervously. Several cars were at the hitching posts, but no one seemed to be looking at her. Jessie picked up the earpiece again, put her quarter in, dialed the number with the 1 in front of it, then put one dollar and forty cents in coins in the hole when the voice asked for it.

  The phone began ringing.

  Jessie grinned. That was what Ma had said would happen!

  Jessie cleared her throat, ready to talk. But the ringing continued. When was Mr. Neeley going to answer? The other voices had come out of the phone right away.

  Jessie stopped grinning. She counted the rings. Eleven, twelve … twenty … twenty-five…. Still, no one answered. Jessie waited longer. The ringing began to hurt her ears.

  Finally Jessie eased the phone back in its cradle. She tried to remember if Ma had said anything about this. Yes: “You may not reach Mr. Neeley at first. He may not be home to answer. If that happens, you’ll have to wait and try again.”

  Slowly, Jessie put the phone’s club-thing back in its cradle. She could wait if she had to. But could Katie and the other sick children?

  FIFTEEN

  Jessie stood next to the phone, trying to decide how long she should wait before dialing Mr. Neeley’s number again. And then she felt the bump from behind. She half turned and saw a man slipping. His limbs jolted outward; his left arm brushed the note from Ma and knocked it to the ground. The force of his fall brought Jessie down, too.

  “Oh, excuse me,” the man said. “You aren’t hurt, are you? I’m so clumsy. Looks like I haven’t broken in this new pair of feet yet.”

  Jessie scrambled to her feet and looked at the man suspiciously. His fall reminded her of the way Chester Seward and Richard Dunlap sometimes acted during recess at school, knocking down girls “by accident” so they could look up the girls’ skirts. But this man was an adult, and Jessie was wearing pants like a boy.

  Then the man picked up Ma’s note and looked at it.

  No! Jessie wanted to scream. What if the man was from Clifton? Should she run? But she couldn’t get help without Ma’s note—

  “This must be yours,” the man said casually, handing the scrap of paper to Jessie. “I am so sorry. Are you done with the phone? That was really why I walked over here, not to put you in traction. You are all right, aren’t you?”

  “Y-yes,” Jessie stammered, clutching the note.

  The man turned away, took out a notebook from his jacket, and seemed to be writing something down. Then he picked up the phone.

  Jessie backed away from the man, her thoughts jumbled. The man couldn’t be from Clifton, because he would have captured her right there. Wouldn’t he? But why had he knocked her down? Why had he looked at her note? What had he written?

  Jessie wanted to believe the man had nothing to do with her or Clifton. Still, she couldn’t shake her fear. Blindly, she turned and ran.

  Risking one glance over her shoulder, Jessie saw that the man was still talking on the phone. She kept on. The man had acted so strangely and was dressed so strangely—he wore a blue shirt with an odd strip of flowered cloth hanging down from his neck. But everyone seemed odd to Jessie outside Clifton….

  Panting, Jessie slowed down. She couldn’t run foreve
r. And she had to keep looking for a phone. Now that she knew they had blue signs above them, she would surely find another one soon. And then she’d get help for Katie and the others, and she wouldn’t have to worry anymore about whether the strange people she saw were or were not on Miles Clifton’s side.

  But Jessie walked miles without seeing another one of the blue phone signs. She wondered if she should have stayed by the phone at the Stopping Point, in spite of the strange man. She worried about the puzzle even Ma didn’t understand—why did anyone want the children of Clifton to die of diphtheria? Mrs. Spurning, the guide for the tourists back at Clifton, had said Clifton residents got modern medical care, so the tourists must not care if Clifton was totally authentic. How could anyone want Katie—sweet little Katie—to die? Or Betsy Benton? Or any of the Clifton children?

  Jessie blinked back tears and walked faster. She had to find a phone. When she got hungry again, she didn’t stop, but pulled a hunk of bread out of her pack and ate while she walked. She paused only for a moment to gulp down the last of the papaya juice. It left a too-sweet taste in her mouth. She longed for ordinary water. But the fat environmentalist’s warning about poison water made her leery of drinking from any of the streams she crossed. Anyhow, there wasn’t time to stop.

  Jessie passed woods almost as dense as those around Clifton, and felt slightly better because that meant the Clifton woods weren’t the last in the world. After a few miles, though, the landscape flattened out, and there were no more trees or hills to remind her of home. Except for the ditches on each side of the big road, the land was almost perfectly level. Long fences marked off enormous fields. Jessie recognized small corn plants growing in even rows in one of the fields. She marveled at the farmer who could plant so much. Mr. Atkins, who had the biggest fields in Clifton, only planted twenty rows of corn each spring, and bragged about it. This field had hundreds. And then there was another field just like it.

  People must work really hard out here, Jessie thought. She hated hoeing just the little field that Pa kept.

  Jessie’s legs felt rubbery, just like they did after a long day of hoeing corn. She was sure she’d been walking for hours. The sun was sinking low in the sky now. In Clifton, school would have been out long ago, and all the children in the village would be doing their chores. Jessie wondered if Hannah had to do Jessie’s and Katie’s chores as well as her own. Bet she was complaining!

  Jessie grinned at the thought of Hannah having to do everything. But Hannah wouldn’t be any good helping Ma on her sick rounds. Hannah didn’t even like to hear someone sneeze. Ma would probably run herself ragged tonight trying to help all the sick children. But from what Ma had said, she couldn’t do much. She was counting on Jessie to bring the cure.

  Jessie looked around, frantically searching for one of the blue phone signs. What if she didn’t find a phone and reach Mr. Neeley before dark? What if she had to walk all the way to Indianapolis?

  To distract herself, Jessie tried to remember everything she knew about the state’s capital. Reverend Holloway had been there, and sometimes talked about what a sinful place it was. It was founded on a lie, he said.

  When he wasn’t around, though, Pa and some of the other men in Clifton laughed about how the settlers near Indianapolis had tricked the state. About fifteen years ago, not long before Clifton was founded, the state decided the capital should be in the middle of Indiana, not down by the Ohio River in Corydon. So the state officials sent scouts up, and the settlers around Indianapolis told the scouts what a great place Indianapolis was, because it was easily reached on the White River. Except—boats couldn’t go that far up the White River. You could only get to Indianapolis by stagecoach, and everyone knew that was hard.

  “Well, those settlers fooled the state, but now we’re stuck with a capital that’ll never amount to anything,” Pa always said when the others laughed too hard.

  Jessie tried to remember what else she’d heard. It seemed there wasn’t anything in Indianapolis except the legislature building and a couple others. Maybe there were more now. Or—maybe there were fewer. Ma hadn’t said whether Indianapolis was still the capital in 1996.

  Jessie kept walking.

  Soon she could tell from the angle of the setting sun that the road was turning more to the east. Was that a problem? Ma had said this road went all the way to Indianapolis, but that had been years ago and maybe they’d moved the road or—

  Jessie rounded a curve and saw an odd set of lights hanging over the road. While she watched, a green light at the bottom went out, and was replaced by a yellow light above it. Then the yellow light went out and a red light came on. The cars that had breezed by Jessie screeched to a stop before the red light.

  Jessie stared. Now, how did that work? There didn’t seem to be anyone around to change the lights. Looking around curiously, Jessie saw a sight that made her forget the lights. Off to the left, just beyond the road, was a cluster of about thirty houses and other buildings.

  Jessie must have walked farther than she thought. This had to be Indianapolis.

  Jessie was so excited, she didn’t see the brown car until it was almost beside her. It was going the wrong way, backward. A boy with greasy hair sprang out.

  “Get in!” he yelled at Jessie.

  SIXTEEN

  Jessie was too stunned to do anything but stare. The boy had a gold loop in one ear and Jessie thought instantly of pirates. The car shook beside him. Jessie saw a gaping hole surrounded by rust at the bottom of one door. The car wasn’t shiny like the ones she’d seen back at Clifton. But what if the boy worked for Miles Clifton? Or—she’d heard one man back at Clifton talk about a prison—Jessie could believe this boy had escaped from a prison.

  “I don’t, I mean—” Jessie tried to sound calm, but her voice shook.

  The boy laughed at her confusion. So did the driver of the car. All Jessie could see of him was a leg covered in ripped blue jeans.

  “Hear that, Tol?” the boy said. “We back half a mile down 37 to pick up this hitchhiker and she don’t even say thanks. Where you going, sugar?”

  Jessie had never heard of a “hitchhiker.” And she had never been called “sugar” before. Both words were ugly the way he said them.

  “I’m going to Indianapolis,” Jessie said. “It’s right up there, so I don’t need a ride.”

  She gazed longingly at the cluster of buildings near the odd green-yellow-red light. Was that?—she thought she saw a blue sign outside one of the buildings. So even if she couldn’t find Mr. Neeley’s house, maybe she could find a phone. If only she could get away from these boys.

  The boy cackled. Jessie calculated that he was too close—if she tried to run, he could grab her instantly.

  “You think that’s Indianapolis?” he asked, pointing at the village ahead.

  “Isn’t it?” Was he trying to trick her?

  The boy doubled over with laughter.

  “Can you believe it, Tol?” he said. “She thinks that’s Indianapolis!” He turned back to Jessie. “What planet were you born on, sugar? Let me clue you in to some Earth info—that little dump over there is Waverly—how many people you think live in Waverly, Tol?”

  “Fifty,” came from inside the car.

  “Okay, fifty,” the first boy said with a smirk. “And, see, no skyscrapers—big, tall buildings, you know? Indianapolis is about fifteen miles thataway, as they say in the movies, and a million people live there, and they have lots of skyscrapers. But don’t worry. We’ll take you there. Now, get in!”

  He reached for Jessie’s wrist and she pulled back. Maybe Indianapolis was still fifteen miles away. But there was no way she was getting in the car.

  The boy lurched unsteadily toward her, and Jessie stepped back again. Despite her fright, Jessie thought maybe she understood something. The boy smelled like—was that alcohol? Not many men in Clifton drank—certainly not near any females—but Reverend Holloway waxed poetic on the evils associated with “likker.” This boy might
do anything. Or—he might be drunk enough Jessie could fool him. If she could just figure out what he was talking about.

  “You thought I was a, uh, hitchhiker?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound as though it was a ridiculous idea. Whatever it was.

  “Quit playing dumb,” the boy snapped. “Tol and me don’t want to wait. Oh—and we’ve all got to get to In-di-a-nap-po-lees.”

  He said the last part in a sticky-sweet voice. Jessie didn’t move. The boy grabbed for her elbow. She jerked away. The momentum almost toppled the boy and he fell back against the car. Jessie couldn’t help laughing.

  The driver got out of the car. He had on a black T-shirt with his ripped jeans, and for a minute Jessie thought he might be the Megadeth boy from the Stopping Point. But his hair was long and stringy like his friend’s, not cropped.

  “Come on,” he said smoothly. “Don’t mind Ray. You should come with us before—before someone comes along who might hurt you. A little girl like you shouldn’t be out hitchhiking. All sorts of dangerous people are out on the road. Get in the car and we’ll protect you.”

  “Stop it, Tol. You’re killing me!” Ray said, leaning on the car, laughing.

  Tol circled the car toward Jessie. Jessie backed up. Tol didn’t seem as drunk as Ray, but she couldn’t be sure. Really, she couldn’t be sure of anything. She’d never seen anybody actually drunk, except the pig when Andrew gave him too many rotten apples. And the pig was stupid enough beforehand.

  “Now, Ray, you’re scaring her,” Tol said, giving Ray a mean look. Slowly, without seeming to, he took another step toward Jessie.