Read 13 Gifts for Free Online

up me for being late, but first my car was cactus so I had to borrow your uncle’s car and then there was a big bingle on Elm Street. I’m lucky I got here at all!”
    My aunt would
get up him
? His car is a
cactus
? Four out of every five words he says don’t make sense.
    He pulls a pack of gum from his pocket and holds it out to me. “Want a chewie?”
    I shake my head.
    “Not my bowl of rice either,” he says, putting it away. “But my oldies always said to make sure to have something to offer a new cobber like yourself.”
    A cobber doesn’t sound like a good thing to be.
    The only car in the parking lot is small and red and sporty. It seems impossible that a grown man could fit in it. But he strolls right over, opens the trunk, and tosses my suitcase inside. Then he goes over to the passenger door and holds it open for me.
    When I don’t make a move to get in, he says, “Oh, do you need to use the dunny? Or did they have one on the train?”
    I follow his eyes to the Porta-Potty on the side of the station and feel my cheeks redden. I shake my head and speak for the first time. “I’m sorry; who
are
you? My aunt and uncle were supposed to pick me up.”
    He slaps his hand on his forehead. “Oops! Forgot to introduce myself. My blokes always tell me I yabber so much I forget all the important stuff. The name’s Ray Parsons. I’m an offsider for your rellies. Errands, upkeep around the house, assist your uncle in his lab, that sort of thing. They’re good folks. Pretty decent way to make a quid while I’m in the States, actually.”
    “My
rellies
?”
    “Bethany and Roger. Your rellies.”
    “You mean my
relatives
?”
    He shrugs. “If you want to use a longer word to say the same thing.”
    I narrow my eyes at him. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
    He holds both hands palms-up. “She’ll be apples, I promise ya.”
    “Seriously, you’re saying all these words but they don’t make any sense.”
    He laughs. “How do you know
you’re
not the one who doesn’t make sense?”
    Before I can reason out an answer, he says, “Why don’t you ring them up? You got a mobile?”
    I’m pretty sure that means a cell phone. I shake my head. “It’s sort of missing at the moment.”
    “No worries,” he says, tossing me his own.
    I pull out the paper with the contact information and dial their home number first. Answering machine. I hang up without leaving a message and try the number listed under Aunt Bethany’s cell. As soon as the call goes through, Aunt Bethany yells, “Ray! Have you got her? Tell me you have her. Her parents have been trying her cell and can’t reach her. And something about the GPS being out of range? Ray! Ray?”
    “It’s me, Aunt Bethany. Tara. Ray lent me his phone.” I turn my back to him and lower my voice. “I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t, you know, trying to kidnap me.”
    I hear a chuckle behind me, but I ignore it.
    “Didn’t he give you our note?”
    “What note?” I turn back to face Ray.
    “D’oh!” he exclaims, hitting himself on the forehead again. “Forgot about that, too.” He pulls a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to me. I scan it quickly. Apparently Emily had a big fencing tournament that they couldn’t miss so they sent him to fetch me. I hand the note back to him.
    “You still there, Tara?” Aunt Bethany asks, the phone breaking up a little. “We’ll be home soon after you arrive. Sorry about this.”
    I tell her it’s fine and give the phone back to Ray. It’s not like I could expect them to rearrange their schedules for me. I wouldn’t even want them to.
    Ray “yabbers” the whole twenty minutes it takes to get to the house. I manage to pick up a few colorful phrases. He had to “chuck a U-ee” at one point when he started going down aone-way street the wrong way, and then he told me some story about a “bloke” of his who wanted him to “chuck a sickie” last week so they could go to