Free Precious Bones by Mika Ashley-Hollinger

put the cigarettes on top of the Crisco can and wrapped my arm around it, then grabbed the two bottles. I went out and sat down beside Mr. Speed.
    “How have you been, Mr. Speed?”
    “Good, been good.”
    Together we sat and looked out over U.S. 1 and the glistening top of the Indian River.
    Mr. Speed said, “They done made a tire that don’t need no tube. It’s called a tubeless—yes, sir—a tubeless tire.”
    “But Mr. Speed, how can that be? How can a tire hold air without a tube? And what will we float around on at the swimming hole? We need inner tubes to float on.”
    “They can make something to take its place; something will take its place.”
    “Yes, sir, I guess they will. Seems like someone is always making something new.”
    I wanted to talk with Mr. Speed about finding the Yankee man’s leg and the knife, but those were not the sorts of things we shared with each other. He was full of information but not answers. I just enjoyed being with him; sitting next to him was like being wrapped in a warm blanket.
    “Mr. Speed, me and my daddy went out in the swamp yesterday. That big ol’ gator Snaggletooth had a heap of babies around her.”
    “Good mamas, gators are good mamas. The babies stay with ’em for years.”
    “I guess that’s sort of like a real family and the kids don’t want to leave home.”
    Mr. Speed nodded. “They help each other. The big ones help the little ones, the little ones.”
    “Yes, sir, I would say that is just like a family would do.”
    The door to the Last Chance opened, and out sauntered Peckerhead Willy. Right behind him was that Yankee man that had been out to our house. They stood together at the front entry, while the Yankee man ripped open a pack of cigarettes and threw the wrapper on the ground. He turned to Peckerhead. “You haven’t found anything yet? You got paid good money, now get out there and do what you’re getting paid for.” When that Yankee looked over and saw me, he grabbed Peckerhead by the arm real quick-like. “Let’s get out of here.”
    I watched as the two of them walked around the corner and disappeared. I hadn’t seen them when I was in the store. They must have been in the back by the three-stool bar, where grown-ups could buy beer.
    Mr. Speed held up his index finger. “A finger, it’s like a finger.”
    I studied that finger for a while. “You mean the state of Florida? It does look like a finger. Last year there was a big map of Florida hanging on my classroom wall. And it did look like a finger sticking out in the ocean.”
    Mr. Speed pointed to his knuckle. “On the knuckle, the knuckle.”
    “Yes, sir, Mr. Speed, I do believe you are right. We live just about right there.”
    “Look by the knuckle. When it’s dry.”
    Sometimes I wasn’t quite sure what information he was sharing with me, but it didn’t make any difference. I knew he had a wisdom I couldn’t always understand.
    We finished our RCs. I took the bottles back inside and set them on the countertop. “Thank you again, Miss Evelyn.”
    “You’re very welcome, Bones.”
    I went outside and said, “I best be getting back home, Mr. Speed. I’ll stop by again real soon. You have a good day.”
    “See you later.”
    On my walk home I kept looking at my finger and the knuckle that Mr. Speed said we lived on.

Tuesday afternoon, Nolay returned home with one of the biggest surprises of my life. One that made me clear forget about Yankees, legs, knuckles, and knives. Me and Mama were outside working in her garden when the dogs began to bark. Pulling up in our driveway was the most astonishing vehicle I had ever seen. Its heavy body sat low to the ground. The back was squared off, and the front was pointed like a shark’s nose. It was the color of ripe limes. Gleaming strips of chrome ran down the sides and sparkled in the sunshine. The convertible top was down. and Nolay sat behind the steering wheel.
    Me and Mama, along with the dogs, approached cautiously, as