Chapter 17 - Page 242 - Trouble In Chicago

  Rhasha hung her head and fidgeted with the trailer door latch. "Nothing," she said.

  Jim knew she was nervous about something. The loaders had already closed and latched the trailer doors. Jim walked around to the front of the truck. Rhasha followed him closely, with Shanha right behind her.

  Jim unhooked the rubber straps on both sides of the hood. Rhasha was being very quiet and kept getting up close to him. "Rhasha, I can't stand the suspense. Please tell me what's wrong."

  Rhasha hung her head again. "I can't tell you," she said. "I already know what you'll say."

  Jim walked to the front of the truck and checked the headlights. After he checked the directional lights, he reached to a holder at the top of the hood, put his foot in a hole in the bumper, and leaned back as he jerked the hood open. He checked the water in the radiator, and the fan belts.

  "Rhasha," Jim said, "there should be a rag in the compartment on the side of the truck. Could you get it for me, please?" Rhasha left to find a rag. Jim checked around the motor for oil or water leaks.

  Moments later, Rhasha returned with the rag in her hand. Jim grabbed her and put his arms around her waist. She instinctively put her arms around his neck. The rag hung down his back. "Sweetheart," Jim said, "I'm not going to turn you loose until you tell me what's wrong."

  Rhasha's eyes looked straight into Jim's. "It doesn't matter. I know you can't do what I want you to."

  "Angel," Jim replied, "I can't if you don't ask me."

  Rhasha smiled as she turned on her teenage charm. She kissed him and hugged him tight. "Jim, you're an intelligent man. I'm sure you can see the sense in what I'm going to ask you."