The morning skies were gray and dismal, and mist from the exhaust of the pickup hung in the air. Slim MacDonald checked the tie-downs on the trailer one final time, and Jack Harvey locked the side door of the small shop.
Harvey glanced toward the sky as he walked to the truck.
“I’ll bet the rain holds off until this evening!” he said with an optimistic nod. “We’ll get this one in, just watch and see!”
Jimmy laughed. Last night the TV weatherman said today was likely to be wet, with a good chance of rain throughout the day. The radio guy repeated that same forecast this morning. Heavy dark clouds hung from the Sunday morning sky, and the air was chilly and damp. But when it came to weather, Harvey was a delusional man.
“Yes sir, gonna be a good day,” he said, glancing around one final time to see if they were forgetting anything.
Jimmy and Slim paused awkwardly at the passenger door.
“I got shotgun,” Slim insisted. “I rode middle last time.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Jimmy offered. “Let me ride shotgun and your breakfast is covered.”
Slim thought it over for a moment, then slid onto the seat.
“OK, but I got shotgun on the way home.”
They eased out of the Ellison Paving parking lot and turned onto the side street. It was half-past six, and everybody still seemed a little sleepy. They rode in silence for several blocks until Jimmy was surprised to see Harvey turn the opposite way on Washington Street.
“What’s this?” Jimmy asked. “Breaking our routine?”
“Only a little bit,” Harvey replied. “New donut shop down the way…gonna give ‘em a try.”
“Ain’t we stopping at Scottie’s for breakfast?”
“Sure we are. That’s the good luck place.”
“OK, but…donuts and breakfast?”
“I’m hungry now!” Harvey insisted. “Slim is, too. Ain’t you?”
“I could go for a couple of donuts,” Slim agreed.
Come to think of it, Jimmy admitted, a chocolate-covered something-or-other wasn’t a bad idea.
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