House of the Rising Sun (Hackberry Holland 4)

“I don’t plan on driving it into the side of a cow. What could go wrong?”

“Miss Beatrice says you are willful and get in trouble at almost every opportunity.”

“I’ll have to remember that.”

“I will guide you through the process. Do not press too hard on the accelerator. If in doubt, take your feet off the pedals and let the car slow to a stop. That way, nothing bad can happen. Remember to guide the car in a straight line.”

“I’m at your disposal.”

They exchanged places. Hackberry gripped the steering wheel on each side and twisted it back and forth. “This has a right nice feel to it.”

“Now put your left foot on the left pedal—” Andre began.

“Hang on!” Hackberry said. He let the clutch snap loose from under his foot and pressed the accelerator to the floor, straightening his legs, pushing himself deeper into the leather seat, the tires on the REO’s right side skidding dirt and gravel along the edge of the rain ditch. He flew through a crossroads past a general store, swerving to miss a wheelbarrow a man had dropped as he ran for his life.

“You must take your foot off the accelerator! You must do it now, Mr. Holland!” Andre said. “Please, sir! Lift up your foot!”

“I already did! The pedal broke off!”

“Sir, look at the road, not your feet! Sir, please do not look at me! Look through the windshield at the road! What are you doing?”

“Cutting through the field. Nothing can happen out here in the field. I got it under control, Andre. Settle down.”

“Sir, please do not be offended, but you are a crazy person!”

“A little bump coming up. Prepare yourself. Oops!”

Andre twisted his head and looked through the rear window. “Sir, you have ruined a man’s fence! He’s chasing us! I think he has a gun!”

“I’ll talk to him later. I’m tryi

ng to concentrate. Control your emotions.”

“Sir, there’s a wash line ahead! Sir, these people will kill us!”

Hackberry ripped through a succession of three clotheslines, then swerved the REO and aimed it at a cornfield, clothes and bedsheets streaming from the car’s windshield and fenders. The dry cornstalks flattened under the bumper and tangled in the wheels and undercarriage, the frame bouncing with such violence over the hard-packed rows that pieces of the motorcar’s interior were flying through the air.

“I cannot believe this is happening to us,” Andre said.

“It’s not a problem. Now be quiet!”

“Look out! There’s a haystack!”

“That’s what I’ve been looking for. Now get ahold of yourself and stop all this histrionic behavior.”

“This what?”

“I’ll explain later. Put your hands on the dashboard. Here she comes!”

The REO piled into the haystack and came to a stop, hay collapsing around the windows, steam and the smell of burned rubber rising through the floor.

“How do you turn off the ignition?” Hackberry said.

“You ask me this now? Look behind us. There are people coming on horseback.”

“They probably want to he’p. People are pretty neighborly here’bouts. Andre, if you’re going to be taking me around San Antonio, you have to stop carrying on over a hill of beans. I’m just glad it was us driving and not Miss Beatrice. Anyway, let’s fix it and be on our way. You can drive if you want.”

“You are allowing me to drive now?”