He nodded hello, then asked, “What can I do for you?”
I started to open my mouth, but Steve cut me off, stepping around me and up to the counter with a swagger I hadn’t noticed before. When he spoke, his strangely heavy new drawl nearly made me stare at him.
“Well, now, we heard you maybe had a bus we could rent. It’s for our church group. We figured, seeing as how it’s nearly Christmas, we’d all get together and take a little trip up north.”
We should have worked out our story together ahead of time. I worked to keep my face still.
“Is that right?” He stared at Steve, then me, then Steve again, squinting so hard I couldn’t see his eyes beneath the bunched up skin anymore. “You say you’re headed up north? Whereabouts?”
“South Dakota. We’ve got a sister church up there we’re wanting to visit.”
I worked not to flinch. Steve was taking a risk telling this guy even that much. What if the feds somehow traced our path to this man and asked him what we’d said?
“Huh.” He rubbed a gnarled and weathered hand over his gut in thought. “You need a school bus or a charter?”
“Charter if you’ve got one available.” Steve never missed a beat with his answers. I had to give it to him, he was good. “We’ve got a few little ones wanting to come along. So we’re hoping to keep things as comfortable for them as we can.”
The man nodded slowly. “Yeah, I might have a charter available. When’d you need it?”
Here was the only time Steve paused. He gave a sheepish smile and rubbed a hand over one cheek. “Well, to be real honest, we’re kind of in a bind here. See, we’re actually from out of town. We were already headed on our trip, and our church bus broke down. So we’re needing some new transportation real quick if we can find some.”
At this, the old man frowned. “You’ve got little ones stranded out in this?” He jerked a thumb at the windows, as if a blizzard were raging outside.
“Yes sir,” Steve replied. “So you see why we’re kind of in a hurry. I mean, I suppose we could just send everyone home and try again in a few weeks when our bus is repaired. But everyone was sure looking forward to this trip…”
Oh man, Steve was good. Even my own mother, the queen of guilt trips, couldn’t have pulled one off as well as this.
Just how much did Steve practice lying to people?
The proprietor grunted. Then he looked at me again. “And who might you be?”
“Church treasurer.” The words just rolled out of my mouth. Maybe Steve was contagious.
“I’ve got a charter we can set you up with.” He reached under the counter and brought out a clipboard. “Treasurer, if you’re the one with the money then you’ve got to fill out this form. How long are y’all going to need it for?” He looked to Steve again for the answer while I tried to confidently step up to the counter and start filling out the form.
“Oh, maybe a week or two? We’ve got some pretty chatty ladies in our bunch that are going to want plenty of time for visiting and picture taking and all that.”
The old man nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a sister-in-law the same way. Always talking and taking endless pictures for that scrapbooking stuff. Got herself a whole club of women who get together for it. Drives my brother crazy.”
Steve grinned. “Yeah, our church ladies got a scrapbooking club of their own. Meets every Tuesday night like clockwork.”
“Hey, you’re at least twenty-five, right?”
It took me a second to realize the old man was talking to me. I looked up. “Yes sir.”
“I’m going to need to make a copy of your ID for insurance purposes,” he said.
Dutifully I pulled out my wallet, praying my hand wouldn’t shake as I handed over the hopefully still altered license.
He held it up to the light and squinted at it for a long minute. Then he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out some bifocals. Without putting them on or unfolding them, he held the glasses near his face and peered through them at the ID. My heart raced faster with every passing second.
Finally, he shuffled over to an antique looking copier machine and made a copy.
I let the air out of my lungs slow and easy through my nose and finished filling out the forms.
He handed me back my ID, looked over the form, then said, “Now who’s your driver going to be?”
“Uh…” I hesitated.
“I’ve got to put down their name for the insurance,” he added. “And they’ll have to come in and we’ll need a copy of their CDL. It’s federal law.”
I glanced at Steve, wondering how he planned to solve this one. Another driver’s license makeover spell? And if it worked, then what? Could Steve even drive a bus?
Before Steve could answer, I jumped in. “Well, Steve here has a CDL. But it’s a pretty long drive, and it’d be nice if we could find someone else to drive us instead. You know, so Steve could relax and see the sights with everyone else. You know any qualified drivers we could maybe hire?”
The old man’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Well, my brother John could. But he’s an idiot, and I’m not too keen on trusting him with one of my charters that far away. Especially for a couple of weeks.”
“I’m sure I can handle—” Steve said.
“What about yourself?” I said to the bus owner, ignoring the quick glare Steve shot me. His look seemed to ask whether I knew what I was doing here. Unfortunately the answer to that was no, I had no clue. I should have shut up and let him continue with the lies. But for some reason I was acting on a hunch. Tarah would probably be proud, what with all her beliefs in listening to emotions and instincts.
Both men stared at me.
“I was just thinking if you drove us, you could personally ensure your bus was safe at all times.”
Silence. I could hear each of our breaths, mine a little too quick but hopefully too quiet for elderly ears to hear, Steve’s slower, more deliberate, the old man’s shallow with just a hint of a wheeze at the end.
The bus owner rocked back on his heels and rubbed his gut beneath the silver snap buttons of his white and brown plaid shirt. “Well, now, that’s an intriguing idea. John could watch the shop, it’s the dead season anyways, ain’t nobody renting right now. And I would like to do some traveling and sight seeing.”