RICH PEOPLE WERE crazy. Why else would Boss Lloyd crawl up into Hazel’s cab like a hermit crab stealing a shell—“let’s go, come on, hurry up”—and then refuse to climb down and open the barn doors? Owen’d had to unlatch each one separately before they could drive out—which is why the runners to his left gained so much ground at first. Hazel was built for heavy lifting, not top-end speed.
They were finally going to scar up that tree, and between curses Boss Lloyd had promised a big bonus. Ma had made Owen promise not to use machines to damage property—unless it was the property owner telling him to do so, like tearing down an old house so a new one could be built. Boss Lloyd said he owned that tall oak, so that part would be okay.
But he didn’t own the Inn’s croquet court, and Hazel’s big tires left some diggers on the way through. Mr. Dane would be furious, after all the money he’d spent on special grass and fertilizer.
To his left, Owen spotted Mavis running hard away from the Inn. Had she stolen something from a guest’s room? Strange—she usually didn’t work Saturdays. He’d lie to cover for her, if she asked; she hadn’t given up his name to Mr. Dane, so he owed her a favor.
Behind her, a skinny guy pumped legs and arms like a track star. He must be chasing after—
“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Boss Lloyd asked. Owen increased the revs as much as he dared, and Hazel rose to the challenge, bush-hogging like a pro. Engine purring—good girl. He couldn’t wait to clear the rest of these brambles and scruffy weeds, make it all beautiful, all the way to those big bluffs.
Owen took a hand off the wheel to slick back his hair. Ride was like a Cadillac on the hydraulic seat—
“Ouch! Jesus, that hurt.” Boss Lloyd’s head knocked against the door frame.
“Sorry sir,” Owen said. Serves you right, crabbing in on our party.
Out of habit, he glanced at the side mirror—Jayzus! A full parade of folks, streaming around the school and down onto the lawn. Was Mr. Dane hosting a convention?
“Who are all those people?”
Boss Lloyd didn’t even look. “Just get us to that tree.”
Hazel snapped branches like kindling. A maple sapling disappeared under the front left tire. The closer they got to that one oak, though, the wider and taller it seemed.
“Only have to damage it,” Mr. Wainwright reminded him. “Just run into the thing a few times, that’s all.”
“Um, that’s not really what Haz—the tractor—does best.” His first concussion had come from ramming into the solid mass of his older brother, head first.
Five hundred bucks, he decided. That would cover him until he found another landscaping—
A scrub pine snapped under the right tire, knocking Boss Lloyd off his perch, which knocked Owen’s hands off the wheel. Didn’t matter; Hazel tracked straight and true, all by herself.
“Speed this thing up—Billy’s gaining!”
Billy Dean? That’s why he looked familiar. Owen had bought pot from him only once—way too strong, so he’d given it all to Shana as her going away present.
Boss Lloyd didn’t mention Mavis, even when Billy dodged around her.
“Why’s he running?”
“Wants to beat us to that tree. I told Pierce to keep ’em all inside that damned schoolhouse. . .”
“What’s so important about one tree?” Owen asked.
“Exactly. That’s why we have to get there first.”
Owen’s heart was racing, like he was running too. He bumped up the throttle as much as he dared, but it didn’t change Hazel’s pace.
“He’s gonna beat us,” Boss Lloyd growled. “Can’t you go any—”
“So what?” Owen giggled. One skinny drug dealer would be no match for Hazel. Maybe he’d pick Billy up with the front blade—he’d be waving his arms, balancing on the front lip, screaming in terror. “Ever seen a machine like this coming right at you? First he’ll crap his pants, then he’ll. . .”
Billy tumbled against the tree’s mighty trunk, breathing hard. Turned to look up at Hazel. His face was blotchy red, and his hands gripped the bark behind him—before both hands turned into fists and dropped to his sides.
“He’ll run,” Owen predicted. “All by himself, he won’t—”
“And here comes little Miss Mavis. Christ almighty, we were supposed to be all done by now!”
A mess of shiny black hair and heaving chest reached the tree. Standing tall, Mavis balled hands into fists and glared up at Hazel’s windshield. Eyes boring right into his, just as steely and hard as the night she’d scared him away.
“Move your asses away from that tree!” Owen shrieked.
But the only one who heard was Boss Lloyd.