
He nodded, but he seemed distracted. He was looking ahead, through the windshield. "Charlie," he said, suddenly. "Weren't we supposed to turn right at that light?"
"I don't think so," said Charlie. "Our turn is near a big fence with vines climbing over it. Isn't it? I've been watching for it."
"I saw that fence," said Jackie, who was sitting in the front seat next to Charlie. "It was way back that way." He pointed in the opposite direction. "Are you sure?" asked Charlie.
"Pretty sure," said Jackie.
"Well, I'm just going to keep going for a mile or so," said Charlie. "Maybe there's another turn we can take."
By this time, we'd left the town of Redfield and were driving along a road with fewer houses. Big trees arched over the road, their branches tossing in the wind. We were practically crawling along, since Charlie could hardly see to drive. The windshield wipers just could not keep up with the rain that was washing down over the van. Charlie was hunched over the wheel with his face close to the windshield. "I think we can turn up here," he said. He sounded kind of tense, the way he does before his team has a big football game.
