Riko waited outside for Harley to finish up giving her statement. While he waited, he observed several of the local windbags stare at him and whisper amongst themselves. He couldn't help but laugh.
"Old bitty's can't help themselves. If they didn't have anything to gossip about, I swear their heads would explode." He thought.
"Sarge, I'm d...."
"I'd wish you would call me Riko," he interrupted as he turned to face her.
"Okay, RIKO, I'm done. If I'm gonna stay with you a couple of days, I need to go by my place and get some things."
"Sure, no problem," as they walked to his truck.
He opened the door for her, waited for her to get situated and shut the door, ran around and jumped in.
"Do you want to stop and get something to eat after we run by your place or do you want to try your luck and eat my cooking?"
She saw the women staring.
"I'll try my luck with your cooking, I just want to get away from here as soon as possible."
"Well darling, your wish is my command. But, you will have to tell me where you live. I haven't had the honor of visiting you anywhere but the store."
"Do you know the old Hubbard place?"
"Yeah."
"That's my house."
"Okay, on our way"
It took him about ten minutes to get there and the whole time, Harley just stared out the window. Riko recognized this stare all too well. Many Marines would get it during the war in "goat country." Marines called it, "the thousand yard stare."
YOU ARE READING
THE DESOLATE SOUTHLAND
General FictionStory about a former Marine prepared for doomsday by terrorists, falling in love, protecting and saving those around him.
