The Story

Ack! Why did I start this story in first person? Ok...mmmmmI'm in the zone



I could kind of see the big one shift in his seat to look back at me. I quickly shut my eyes again but he saw I was awake so I opened them again. I let myself glare at him a little. His jowls pressed against his shoulder as he smiled.
"Well, hello. How do you feel?" I didn't say anything. I shifted my gaze out the window. Dark fir trees flew by. Watching them made my head hurt even more so I looked back at the man in the front passenger seat. He wasn't smiling any more but he didn't look mean or angry. His face, half lit by the green dashboard lights, didn't show anything.
"My associate," he nodded toward the 30-something man driving "would like to know why you were sneaking around the Benners' house at night."
For a moment I couldn't remember why but then I recalled the wierd noise. His quesion confused me. What I was doing at the Benners' was none of his business. I sat up (slowly) and answered him with a question of my own.
"What was your associate doing on roof?" My voice was so froggy! I cleared my throat. An image of Dalene flashed through my mind.
The big guy chucked, or rather gurgled, somewhere deep in his throat.
"Ladies first." He said.
"Ok, house-sitting." I was trying to sound tough and unafraid but instead I sounded like a bad actor.
"House-sittinnnng." Fat Guy drew out the last syllable and let it buzz the mucus in his throat.