Summary Of Janett Olson's Journey To Heathens '

Janett Olson was polishing her white, ceramic dinner platter, nearing the act of flipping off the dining room lanterns, when the telephone rang. She lifted the receiver to her ear and heard the blunt voice of Walton Manes establishing himself. “My nephew, Arkin, had a baseball tournament this weekend and came to visit, but is nearing his stay. I heard that you were driving to his hometown of Heathens tomorrow. Would you be so charming, and take him back home,” he stated with an amicable tone.
“It would be my pleasure,” Janett replied in a very uneasy tone, “in return for all that you have done for me.”
Hopping into her black Buick Roadmaster, Janett Olson started the rustic engine, creating a cloud of exhaust in front of the headlights. She
“Yes, I am,” the teenage boy said monotonously, “it is very kind of you to do this, for I thought that my uncle’s question was a huge service.”
“My pleasure. For a journey to Heathens begins with the first step, picking up company for the drive,” said Mrs. Olson. “Now, hurry up and come join me in the front seat.”
As told, Arkin opened the front door and sat in the torn passenger seat. He was a large child who was wearing a Los Angeles Dodgers baseball cap, and a plain navy blue cotton shirt. Along with this, he obtained a bowl haircut, where his hair was cut with an even fringe on the front. Sitting down, the adolescent draped his arms from each side, as Janett drove out of town and towards Heathens.
Continuing down the avenue, dwellings separated from the road, street lights ended, and they were enclosed by woodland. At seventy miles to Heathens - which seemed to last an eternity - Janett pounded the automobile headlight switch, creating beams of light on top of the smooth pavement. Shortly after, the car came to a construction site in the road, and they were forced to take a brief detour, soon leading to the little village they were
The mentally unsound man jumped into the car and obtained control of the steering wheel, driving far into the distance with Arkin alongside him. Moments passed, and far away, sound became dim, with nothing to hear but faint vibrations of gun shots, leaving the child dead. Taking the motorcycle, Janett drove like a psychopath, at the speed of light, until she noticed the vague glows of Heathen through the woods. Frightened to death, her nervousness nudged the bike toward the city. Arriving in the city, she sat at a stop sign, motionless, trembling. She had a blank understanding of what had just happened, and she could not speak.
Days had gone by, and appalling memories and thoughts cycled throughout Janett’s mind. As memories appeared in her head, she tried to forget the events that had occurred, such a short period of time ago. Opening her white window blinds for the first time, Janett saw Walton Manes outside, completing his yard work. He recognized her and tilted his skull politely, reminding her of the honest, young boy she had driven. With tears falling out of her eyes, all Janett could do was gesture