Ella Sue, Part 4
Mitch's gas station was an ideal place to lay roots for a while. It was right off the highway, had plenty of trees and a recreational park area, and a decent store where one could fill up while filling 'er up. Every day, someone or some family stopped off at Mitch's and pitched a tent for the night before continuing their journey on the road.
Ms. Martha hadn't needed to convince Mother. It had already been decided the encampment was her and Ella Sue's safe haven. Their tour was through a labyrinth of vehicles, a meet-and-greet with the more permanent residents.
Ella Sue snagged a breath deep in her chest, held it as the wanderer closed in on her. She wiggled down to the ground and hunched over, head toward the grass, eyes shut. All that remained opened were her ears. She knew how to hide when she had to (having had plenty practice in Mother's line of work) and listening was always key. Hear what you can't see.
The death-rattle of the bloody woman resonated above her head, laddering off with a raspy grunt while her footsteps scraped against dirt.
"Aaron!" The shuffled steps seized at the man's call. "Aaron, where are you, boy?" he shouted from elsewhere on the property. There was a sweeping sound on the ground, and the growls started to go in a different direction. "Please, Aaron, I'm here. We got to go!"
Ella Sue bade her time...One, Two, Three, Four... She lifted her head and peeked out from behind the brush to find the dead woman limping away. She had a moment of safety to scrutinize her: red curls so damp they hung like party streamers; a white sundress with flowers that ended at the knees; and a pair of flip-flops which seemed to give her trouble walking. She was one of Ms. Martha's permanent residents. Ella Sue watched until Gemma turned the bend of the building then ran forward to the silver sedan.
Ms. Martha was behind the steering wheel. Her dark-pink sweater was neatly buttoned, and the V neck exposed the lacy collar of her white shirt. Even the scarf she wore at night when she wrapped her hair was still in place. But it was the cavernous wound in her neck which made Ella Sue gasp and gag and then break into sobs. Gemma ate Ms. Martha.
"Hey, Ella Sue," came as a hushed shout from the side, "Is she gone?" She spun and found the convenience store's back door propped open. Jerry eased out from the opening, and a mass of people followed. "Come on, we got to get out here." He hurried toward her and pulled her away, led her and the others toward their cars. During their cautious sprint, she inquired if anyone had seen Mother. "No, sorry, kid." Jerry got to his tent and grabbed an armful of belongings. "But you can come with me. Here—" (he gave her a sleeping bag) "—put this in the station wagon."
For the next twenty minutes, people dismantled their makeshift lean-tos from the trees and tents from the lawn. Children scampered to collect their fallen toys, only to be redirected to their cars while parents readied their getaway. Ella Sue hadn't offered to help but found herself taking orders anyway, packing this and that and delivering it to an SUV, a van, or a coupe. Anytime she had an opportunity to look toward the exit off the highway, a stray vehicle raced onto the lot. It would screech to a stop at one of the pumps and the door would fly open. The driver would say nothing while filling the tank, would glance repeatedly at the store window for an attendant, and then would take off when done.
It was during such an instance (Ella Sue handing effects to a resident, a random person getting gas then clearing off) when she spotted someone at her car. She couldn't tell if the person wanted to steal it, or move it to free a station. Before she knew it, she was creeping away from Jerry and the others to investigate.
Continue to Ella Sue, Part 5
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