Read Odd Billy Todd for Free Online Page B

here. He always used the carport door, because the Widow George always used it. She didn’t like people tramping through her living room, she said. Billy respected that. He didn’t like people snooping around his shop, either. Never had.
    He rang the bell, and waited, and waited. Then he waited some more, before ringing the bell again. Nothing. He was about to turn away when he noticed that the interior door was slightly ajar.
    Billy froze, not knowing what to do. Should he go inside, and check on Widow George? What if she was dead? What would he do then? What if she was alive…? was his next thought….and needed help? What if she needed help he couldn’t give her? She might be hurt, or sick, she might have fallen. . . .
    Billy took a deep breath, realizing that he was about to panic. I can’t just concentrate on what if, he chided himself. I’m panicking over things that might not even be. Gotta keep calm. Check under the hood. He took another deep breath, and opened the door.
    The stench was overwhelming. Billy immediately gagged, and ran back out of the house. He ran to the edge of the carport, and stopped, stomach heaving as he tried to get his breath back, and get that stench from his nostrils. Nothing he had encountered in town had prepared him for this.
    Gasping for air almost made him panic. The idea of suffocating was actually trying to suffocate him with fear of suffocating. He fought to clear his head as well as his lungs.
    “Gotta keep calm, gotta keep calm, gotta keep calm. . . .” he thought.
    He felt a bump at his leg and almost jumped. He looked down to see Rommel looking up at him. When the dog had seen Billy run from the house, he had leapt out the window of the truck to protect his person from whatever was chasing him.
    But nothing was chasing me except fear, Billy’s mind registered in slow motion. That realization helped him to finally get his breathing under control. Calm, calm, calm. . . .
    “Thanks, Rommel,” he finally managed to say, rubbing the dog’s head. “Good boy.” Rommel’s tail stub wagged as if to say, ‘of course’. Billy looked back at the house and immediately felt the gag reflex again.
    I need to bury the poor soul, I guess, he thought to himself. But I just can’t go back in there, not right now. I’ll come back, maybe, with a mask and gloves, and maybe some Lysol to disinfect. . . . He stopped right there.
    What if he wasn’t really immune? What if the virus had killed poor Widow George and Billy was still alive by pure luck? If he went in there he might get sick and die. What if breathing that foul air, even for a second, was all it had took to make him sick? Would he die now? If he did, would there be anyone left?
    Who would take care of Rommel? Who would feed the horses and the cows? Billy’s only thought at the idea of his own death was who would care for the things he left behind. He had no idea how odd, or how very rare, that was. He fought off the re-emerging panic attack, breathing deep, clean air as he moved toward his truck.
    “I’m sorry Widow George, I just can’t take the chance”, he thought to himself. As if she might hear him. He looked at Rommel, walking right by his side.
    “We can’t take the chance, boy,” he explained. “Let’s go and see if Mister Silvers is alive.”
     
    *****
     
    Billy felt his dread building as he approached Mister Silver’s farm. His experience at the Widow George’s house had not yet left him, and probably wouldn’t for a while. There was nothing he could do for her, though, and he was smart enough to recognize that. So he was doing the only thing he could do under the circumstances.
    Something else.
    He turned onto the small road that led to Mister Silver’s house, only to find that the gate was closed and locked. Was that a good sign? Billy didn’t know. He did know that he wouldn’t trespass. He thought about leaving a note for Mister Silvers, but decided against it. He didn’t know who might read