13
LAST EXIT
DAY FOUR (Part One): Thursday.
“We’re being followed by a midget Eskimo.”
Dad lowers his brow. “What?”
“You heard me. This whole thing stinks worse than that bull.”
I know the chances of Dad believing my diatribe are slim, but in the interest of full disclosure, I think I should mention to him that a peewee goon is on our tail. I had originally thought that once we left the funny farms, all would be right with the world again. But even though we’re back on the road, I still can’t shake the feeling that we haven’t seen the last of our batty little friend. To humor me, Dad checks the rearview mirror.
“There’s no one following us,” he calmly says.
“You sure? He’s pretty teeny.”
I look back and see a speck in the distance.
“That could be him. That puny dot. He could be s
