The Boy in the Woods (2014 Wattys Winner, Wattpad Version)

Chapter 18 - It's Not For Me To Say

"No, he wouldn't," he insisted, gazing at Marty even more intensely. It made Marty uncomfortable and he looked at the bike to avoid his eyes. "He'd want it to go to someone who could use it to help me out of a bind." Why wouldn't he give up, Marty wondered angrily. Didn't he understand this wasn't going to work?

"I ain't got money to buy new tires," he said.

"I'll buy the tires and you can pay me back out of your wages," Dwyer replied easily. Marty opened his mouth to object, but he continued. "The tool box is on the floor over there," he said pointing with a nod of his head while he keeping his eyes on Marty. "Other than that, it just needs some oiling. Oil can's on that yonder shelf."

"Ain't got no place to keep it," he lied, keeping his eyes on the bike. He knew if he brought it home the old man would sell it for booze. That's what happened to Stevie's bike.

"You can leave it here." Marty tried to think of something else.

"Are you taking the job, son?"

Staring at the bike, Marty felt Dwyer's blue eyes boring into him. He should go, walk away now before it was too late. Don't trust him, a voice was urging, but it was like he was frozen, unable to move or speak. As Dwyer continued to watch him, the silence became more awkward by the second. Not knowing what else to do, he shrugged his shoulders, and Dwyer sighed.

That's it, Marty thought. Dwyer's finally given up, but when he looked up, Dwyer had a small smile on his face, and then it was gone, his expression impassive again.

"Come on," he said as he turned to the back door of the drug store.

Now what, Marty thought, letting out a huge breath as he watched him. When Dwyer opened the door, he looked back and waited. Marty dropped his head and shoved his hands in his coat pockets before shuffling forward. He followed Dwyer through the back room where more boxes were stacked and glass jars on shelves were filled with powders and pills.

When they entered the drug store, on Marty's left was a soda fountain. Much to his dismay, kids he recognized from school saw him and nudged each other as they openly stared at him. Dropping his head further, he scowled at Mr. Dwyer's back. He knew he should have taken off when he had the chance.

A slightly heavy woman in a flowered dress and tight curly hair was standing at the cash register. She gawked at Marty with wide eyes and he immediately looked away angrily. Was she going to give him a hard time? If so, he was leaving.

"Mildred, this is Marty, our new delivery boy," Dwyer said.

"Oh," she said with surprise, while Marty kept his eyes on the front door, ready to bolt if she made a comment.

"It looks like someone needs you over at the counter," Dwyer suggested.

She hesitated, appearing reluctant to leave the cash register, but after Dwyer raised an eyebrow, she walked away. He stepped behind it and pushed a button. With the ring of a bell, the money drawer slid out. After taking something, he pushed it closed and came around the counter.

"Here," he said, holding out a ten dollar bill. Marty's mouth dropped open before he caught himself and closed it. It was more money than he'd seen at one time in his whole life. "Go down to the hardware store. When you get the tires, be sure to buy inner tubes too. I know the old ones are shot. Bring back the change and a receipt so I know how much you owe me."

Was he crazy? That was more money than his old man made in a month and he was just going to hand it over and actually trust Marty to come back?