The Edge of Nowhere by Elizabeth George Read Free Book Online Page A

Dumpster. Her thoughts went quickly from Star Store to groceries to trash bag to what might be in the trash bag, but the boy seemed to know what she was thinking because he fingered one of the ear gauges he sported and said, “No way. There’s nada in there worth even a look. If there was anything, I’d take it down to the seawall and give it to the gulls. Believe me, you do not want to mess with what’s inside this thing.” He slapped his hand against the Dumpster the way another boy might have slapped his hand against his car.
    He came her way. Becca could tell that he was nice because what came off him felt like a pleasant bath. He paused at her bike and looked it over. He gave her a glance, then squatted down for a closer look. He shook his head as he deftly put the chain back where it belonged. “Ride this thing far?” he asked. “It looks like it’s been sitting in the fog for a decade.”
    This wasn’t exactly an incorrect surmise because leaving something outside in the eternally salt-laden air of San Diego wasn’t far removed from having left the bike in the fog. Becca said, “Yeah. It’s pretty bad. I’ve got to get it fixed. Or something.”
    He said, “Definitely ‘or something.’” He rose again. He was closer to her now, and he made that clear when he went on with, “Whew, you smell like a dog. You been sleeping with them?”
    “More or less,” Becca said. “I was hoping there was a place I could buy something to eat.”
    “Yeah? Bummer. This hour? Nada.” He looked at his watch. He said, “Mike’s’ll be open earliest. It’s up on the corner.” He pointed vaguely. “First Street and Anthes? You could get breakfast there. But not till later,” he added.
    She said, “Oh. Double bummer,” and made a move to go, which was when he said spontaneously, “On the other hand, I think I can help you. You got to keep it under your hat, though. Can do?”
    She nodded, and he led the way back into the Star Store, scooping up his mop as he entered. He rested this against one of two checkout counters and continued to the far side of the store.
    The place was bigger than it looked from the outside, Becca found. It was a full-service market, only in miniature, with short aisles stocked with groceries and an area with fresh vegetables and fruit. The place also had a deli, and it was to the deli that the boy led her.
    He pointed to some trays that sat on the counter behind a display of meats and cheeses. “It’s still good enough to eat but too old to sell. I give it to CMA”—with a glance at her—“Christian Missionary Alliance. They do soup a couple days a week for anyone who needs it. When there’s stuff here to be thrown away, I make sandwiches for them. If you want to make yourself one, have at it.”
    He washed his hands and set to work. Becca did the same and joined him at the counter. Side by side, they made sandwiches for a few minutes in silence till he brushed up against her and she sensed an aching hole within him. Something had been torn away from this boy, and she said without thinking, “Other stuff’ll cover it up eventually and finally you won’t even know it’s there.”
    He stopped what he was doing and said, “What the heck?”
    She said quickly, “Oh. Mustard. Sometimes I put too much on but if I cover it up with mayo and other stuff I forget it’s there. Know what I mean?”
    He didn’t look like a believer. “Who are you?”
    She said, “Becca King.” And it came to her that saying the name this third time to a stranger was claiming a new identity. That didn’t feel good.
    He said, “Becca King. Okay. I’m Seth Darrow.”
    She said, “Seth Darrow. Okay.”
    He waited a moment, for a reaction from her. When she didn’t give one, he said, “You’re not from around here, are you? If you were, you’d know.”
    “What?”
    “My last name. What it means.”
    Becca felt Seth relax next to her. It seemed she’d passed some sort of test. He said her name