Chapter Three
--Westley--
I didn’t know what that boy’s deal was with gum, but, damn he was upset about the piece that now sat on the ground of the train-station. He didn’t seem to be getting over it as I drove them to the farmhouse.
“I used the last of my money on that pack of gum,” he grumbles to Ralph, who seemed to be wanting to get a good glimpse of me.
“Ronnie told me that you gave her fifty dollars. It seems like you had a good amount of money to spare right there,” I say as I look at him through the rear-view mirror.
“Ronnie?” Ralph and I say at the same time.
“Veronica, I mean. Sorry. She said that you guys never gave her a nickname, so I gave her one. Ralphy, Maxie, and Ronnie. Cute, huh?” I smile at Ronnie.
I see Max groan and roll his eyes. I use it to my advantage. “You don’t like Maxie? Okay, I’ll just call you Maxwell, then. That’s my dad’s name.” I see him sink back into the truck seat. He evidently doesn’t want anything to do with me.
Ralph laughs. “I’m sure he’ll love that. Only his dad calls him Maxwell. And, well...”
“RALPH!” Max yells. “We don’t know him that well, yet. Shut it, bro.”
As much as I wanted to ask Max about his father, I convinced myself that now, if ever,wasn’t the right time. “So, Max,” I dropped the Maxwell, “how do you know these guys?”
“Ronnie hasn’t told you yet?” He said Ronnie as if it was poison.
“No, Veronica has not told me yet,” I said as I rounded a corner. “No need to get nosy with a lady.”
“Well, then there’s no need to be talking to Max!” Ralph jokes. Nothing. “Veronica, darling?”
“Yes, Ralph?” She says, turning to him.
“Hand me a butter knife. I think I need to cut the tension.”
Veronica shakes her head and laughs. Max groans some more.
What a pleasant drive.
We get to the house right as dad is finishing up work with his tractor. It looks good ever since I gave it a good wash.
“This is where you live?” Veronica asks me as we get into the garage.
I hear Max mumble, “Farmboy.”
“Yes, this is where I have lived my whole life. But I want to leave. A life like this can only be lived for so long.”
“Nonsense!” We hear from outside the truck. My dad appears in the window. His shaggy, grey beard is black from what I assume was dripped oil off of the tractor. He takes a worn, pink cloth and rubs it out. Then his wipes his sweaty, balding head. “Living here is wonderful! Don’t you ever leave, boy!” He laughs and his chubby, Santa-like belly shakes. He looks into the truck. “Who are these, kids? Friends?”
“No.” Max answers maybe a little too quickly.
“Of course we are!” Ralph exclaims to him. “We were in need of a place to stay, and Westley was ever so kind to offer us your abode!”
“Well, aren’t you just spitting out rainbows!” My fathers says to Ralph. My father has always been keen on first impressions.
Ralph smiles.
“And who is this beautiful young lady?” He motions towards Veronica. She gives a warm smile.
“This is Veronica Hayes, and this is Max Bennett, and the rainbow-spitting boy is Ralph Gaston.”
