It was this on top of what I'd thought had happened to the potatoes. Something was up, I didn't know what. Funny how sometimes a thing like that doesn't get to you at first. What had the farmer said? Something fell on his load of potatoes. Fell? I thought now. From where? And hadn't he said something about a little explosion? Ten hours on the road, I thought. Ten hours on the road or we'd have asked him sure.
"Hey, Joe," I called down from the bunk. "When do we cut back West?"
"Soon as there's a road."
But soon a crossroad flashed by, dimly seen by the glow of distant lightning. Joe's face was set. He didn't look at me.
"Joe," I said. "Stop the truck."
"What's the matter now?"
"I want to check the potatoes," I said. "You know the lock bar isn't what it should be. Don't want to lose the load, do you?"
"I thought you said it wasn't a load of potatoes?"
"Highway hypnotism," I said. "I'll take your word for it. Hell, I loaded them, didn't I?"
"You loaded them," Joe said, slowing the truck. I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I'd look inside the van, sure. If it had been highway hypnotism, I'd know it now. Because the illusion wouldn't last. They never do. But after that? After that I hadn't figured yet. Joe was acting funny. Real funny.