Free I Owe You One by Natalie Hyde

cousin. He go to warehouse for me.”
    â€œDid you take the transmitter out?”
    â€œThe what?”
    â€œThe transmitter,” I said. “The thing Frank went all the way to Florida to get?”
    â€œI don’t know about no transmitter. I didn’t take anything out.”
    I was speechless. The transmitter we had gone through so much to get was barreling down the highway in the opposite direction from where it was needed. I looked at Zach in horror.
    â€œWe’ll find it in time, Wes,” Zach said.
    â€œWe’ll need wheels to find it,” I said. “With room for a transmitter.”
    â€œMr. Elliot has a truck,” Zach offered.
    Mr. Lee shook his head. “Mr. Elliot taking load of stones up north. Some crazy lady wants to make pond with them.”
    Daryl.
    Daryl had a truck. And besides, I still blamed him for all of this.
    Mr. Lee said he would go and get Frank. Zach and I would go get Daryl and his truck and come back to Lee’s. All I needed now was for Daryl to be off somewhere blowing something up. But finally some luck was with us. Daryl’s truck was parked in his driveway, and Daryl himself was just coming out the front door.
    â€œNo, no, no and no!” he said before I could even explain to him why we were there. Obviously he was still upset with us about that last little episode with Mr. Elliot.
    â€œJust listen, Daryl,” I said.
    â€œNo. I’m not listening. You’re nothing but trouble.”
    Okay, that was a bit much. Daryl calling someone else trouble.
    â€œWe just need a lift, Daryl,” I said. “Everyone else’s truck is being used. You’re our last hope.”
    Daryl tilted his head to one side. “Just a lift?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWhere to?”
    â€œUh, we just need to find an ice-cream truck,” I said.
    Daryl folded his arms. “You guys are just foolin’ with me, aren’t you?”
    You know, I couldn’t blame him. It sounded ridiculous, even to me. Blowing up foundations, getting snow in the summer and chasing down runaway ice-cream trucks. Who wouldn’t think this was a joke?
    â€œI know it sounds crazy, Daryl,” I said. “But we really need the transmitter that’s inside that truck. It’s for Mrs. Minton. It’s practically a matter of life and death.”
    That last bit might have been a bit of a stretch, but I knew there was no way Daryl was going to let himself be responsible for old Mrs. Minton’s health. He was in.
    We picked up Frank at Lee’s and headed down the highway, scanning the horizon for the Nice’n Icy truck.
    â€œThere it is,” Frank said calmly, pointing up ahead.
    â€œWhere? Where?” I asked. I couldn’t see anything. The highway curved out of sight.
    â€œSee that cloud of black smoke?” Frank asked.
    I could just make out a dark gray smudge hanging above the road up ahead.
    â€œThat’s it. I’d know that smoke anywhere.”
    Sure enough, as we sped up and rounded the curve, we saw the Nice ’n Icy truck limping along in the slow lane, spouting gray smoke.
    â€œThat thing should be put out of its misery,” Daryl muttered. His eyes glinted.
    â€œThere’s nothing wrong with that truck that can’t be fixed with the right parts,” Frank said, a bit of tension in his voice.
    It suddenly occurred to me that I was sandwiched in the cab of a pickup between one guy who lived to blow things up and another who lived to fix them. And they were both eyeing the truck. It made me more than a little uneasy. I didn’t want to be in the middle of a fight.
    A man keeps the peace, Wes.
    How was I going to prevent a world war without getting caught in the crossfire?
    â€œWell, it’s Mr. Lee’s truck,” I said, “so I guess he gets to decide what to do with it.”
    â€œBah,” said Daryl on my left.
    â€œHmpfh,” said Frank on my right.
    We pulled