Young Writers Society

We couldn't find a car to steal so we hitchiked again. It's been a couple days later and we just passed the border into Utah. The days have settled into a team. Hitchhike all day, sneak into a hotel at night if we could, and begin hitchhiking again in the morning. It's identical to my life before meeting Charlie, only the drives are a lot less boring. It is nice to have Charlie here for company. He's smiling and laughing all the time and I find myself laughing and smiling with him.
We get dropped off at a gas station in some small town. I grab a can of beans and slip it into my pocket.
"Hey!" the cashier says as I head toward the door.
"Run," I say to Charlie as I run for the door.
"Arthur," the cashier shouts. The next thing I know, I'm being tackled. Charlie's gone. He was ahead of me and he didn't notice I'd been captured. I hope he doesn't figure out until it's too late. There's no way he'll be able to save me. If I were him, I wouldn't look back. But I'm not. He'll come back when he finds out.
"I got one of them, Nick," Arthur says. I hope Charlie didn't hear that. Arthur holds my hands together behind my back and helps me up. He still holds my arm. They're not my "friends," because they would've shot both of us on sight if they were, but if they call the cops, I'm dead. And Charlie will probably be dead if he doesn't get real far away, real quick.
I hand Nick, the cashier, the can of beans. He's old, has white hair with streaks of grey and a beard that reminds me of Santa Clause. Arthur is built like a football player, or wrestler. He looks like he's in his late twenties, early thirties. He has cropped, blonde hair and an air force sweater.
"What's yer name, son?" Nick asks.
"Will," I say. My fake name. Charlie come racing back in. Arthur grabs his arm with his other hands and plops him down on the other side of him.
"What did you do?" I yell at Charlie.
"You weren't following me," Charlie says, "I couldn't just leave you!"
"Yeah you could," I say, "And what good does it do either of us if you're captured too."
"You're a lot younger than I thought," Nick says. Charlie shrugs. I can see Nick soften up.
"Well then," Nick says, "what's your name?"
"Charlie."
"I have a grandson, Arthur's son, named Charlie He's around your age."
"I'm almost eleven."
"He's nine. He's got a sister named Hillary. Do you have a sister?" He looks toward the road.
"No, but there were lots of girls at my foster home." Charlie gives them that sweet kid look, the one that makes old people do whatever they ask. Nick was turning into puddy in Charlie's hands. I miss the days when I could do that. It saved my neck plenty of times.
"Where you two boys headed?" Arthur asked. He wasn't sold yet. His own kids had probably tried this thousands of times before. We are on thin ice here. Charlie was stumped.
"To visit our grandmother," I say. When he raises his eyebrows at me, I add, "Adoptive grandmother." I can tell they hadn't bought it.
"Now where are you really headed?" Arthur asked.
"We don't know," Charlie says glumly. Nick doesn't say anything for a moment. Then he tosses me back the can of beans.
"What else do you kids need?"

Spiderman Here. That's Western hospitality!

I grab a can of beans and slip it into my pocket.

A can of beans fits in his pockets! He must have some large pockets. How about a bag beans or some other food?

"No, but there were lots of girls at my foster home." Charlie gives them that sweet kid look, the one that makes old people do whatever they ask. Nick was turning into puddy in Charlie's hands. I miss the days when I could do that. It saved my neck plenty of times.

I like this part. Charlie manipulating adults with his cuteness.

THe chapter lives up to the rest of the story. Can you tell me when you post more?

I thought this was well written and I found it funny they could manipulate the man:)

The one thing that bothered me as I was reading this was they seemed to have that little kid attitude but then at the same time they were like a bunch of criminals that would stop at nothing to get what they want. I say this because one minute you're talking about them just being a bunch of kids needing a place to stay and some food

It's a couple days later and we're somewhere in Utah. The days have settled into a team. Drive all day, only stop for bathroom breaks and to get some food, sneak into a hotel at night, and hijack a new car in the morning. It's identical to my life before meeting Charlie, only the drives are a lot less boring. It is nice to have Charlie here for company. He can talk for hours about anything. I love to pick his brain and he loves to pick mine. He's smiling and laughing all the time and I find myself laughing and smiling with him.
We make a stop at a gas station in some small town. I grab a can of beans and slip it into my pocket.

And the next minute you're talking about them shooting each other as a good friend

They're not my "friends," because they would've shot both of us on sight if they were, but if they call the cops, I'm dead.

That does not sound like something a kid would say. I'm not seeing it.

I like this kind of stories. It's something that could happen but it's not very likely to happen. That's my kind of books to read.

Oh and one more thing

It's a couple days later and we're somewhere in Utah.

I live in Utah so I enjoyed the reference:)
Although my profile says I live "Deep in My Dreams"

Keep up the good work *clicks like*