There were four old Mexicans sitting at a dilapidated picnic table under the tree closest to the truck. Two of the gentleman jumped up quickly at the sight of Gus’s car. One of the men stepped out in front of the car and put his hand up, before they got to the truck.
“No te acerque más,” he declared.
“Get out of my way, you old fool,” Danielle shouted through the window. “What the hell is this?”
The old man wouldn’t budge. He wasn’t going to let them drive up to the pickup.
“Damn it!” shouted Danielle. “What’s wrong with her? Why doesn’t she get out of the truck?”
Danielle and John popped the doors and started to drag themselves out.
As soon as Danielle stood up, her mother started yelling from the truck. She was yelling at the old Mexican in broken Spanish. He stood transfixed by the strange-looking car, gazing at it as Danielle and John walked toward the truck.
“Sí, Señorita Godiva,” the old man said, pointing at the pickup, now confident that help had finally arrived for the woman in the truck.
“Tell John to stand where he is,” Martha commanded from inside the pickup.
“Mother, don’t be getting pushy. You should be thankful that we were so close. And what’s this “Godiva” crap the old guy is blathering about?” Danielle said, walking up to the open window and looking in. “Where the hell are all your clothes?” she shouted.
“There wasn’t time,” Martha huffed.
“You ran out of the house, jumped in the truck, and drove to Blythe naked? God, Mother, and you claim us kids do—”
“Just shut up! I’m not about to go into a long explanation. Just go get me some clothes and—for God’s sake—something to drink. I spent all my cash keeping those old fools in beer.” Martha indicated the old men. At least four twelve-packs of empty cans lay on and around the table.
“Looks like you had to buy your friends today,” Danielle snickered. “Why didn’t you just go home?”
“The goddamn truck is almost out of gas! The old fool never keeps it full like I tell him to.”
“He probably figures he won’t have to drive so far when you pull one of these stunts.” Danielle laughed.
“Are you going to get me some clothes, or are you going to sit there and pick?”
“Why didn’t you just fill the damn truck up and go home? You’ve got credit cards.”
“I can’t get out of the truck like this!”
“Yeah, I can see how that might cause some problems. But there’s always women going back-and-forth at gas stations.”
“I’m not going home like this.”
“Ah, so now we get to the plot. You don’t want Dad to know how bad you screwed up. How the hell did this get started in the first place? You never walk around the house without clothes, and especially not with guests there.”
“That goddamn Chucky and his Head-for-Jed-Club,” Martha sputtered. “I had a little too much to drink and got into the hot tub with Nut Head.”
“What happened then? It’s a long way from the Rancho de Los Retardos hot tub to this place.”
“I don’t want to talk about it!”
“Poor Dad, he must be worried.”
“To hell with him! This is all his fault in the first place.”
“Yeah, well, taking off in the middle of the night isn’t such a great thing to do either.”
“I should have bit it off,” said Martha, an angry look on her face.
“Yes, this does look like the lesser of two evils,” agreed Danielle. “Okay, how are we going to do this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I guess the best thing would be to leave John here with the car, and you and I go off and get you back to normal,” she said, getting into the pickup.
*
“I suppose you’ll really get your mileage out of this one,” Martha said, getting dressed. They had gotten clothes, filled the truck up with gas, and were heading back to the lot.
“No, Mother, I’m not going to say a thing. This is one stunt that I won’t cash in on. I hope you realize how lucky you are that John and I happened to be right down the highway.”
“I would have figured something out. I didn’t need you,” said Martha.
“Mother, you’re also lucky that you stumbled onto a bunch of old guys that were more interested in wetting their whistles than their peckers. A couple of young bucks found you like that and it might not have been something we can all laugh at,” Danielle said, turning into the lot, where John was talking with the Mexicans.
“I know that. And don’t think the senior citizens there”—Martha pointed to the old Mexicans still at the picnic table—“didn’t throw a proposition or two my way.”
Danielle laughed. “I’m not surprised. Here they are, stuck in Bum Fuck, Nowhere, and a woman drives up with no clothes on and beer money. How long have they been watching out for you?”
“They were just biding their time, waiting for an opportunity.”
“Mother, not one of those old farts could ever get it up, even if they wanted to. Well, what do you want to do now?” Danielle asked, parking next to the picnic table.
“What the hell is he talking to those old reprobates about?” sneered Martha. “They don’t know any English.”
“I don’t know. Maybe he knows some Spanish.”
“Bah, I don’t trust that guy. He’s up to something.”
“Whatever, Mother. Let’s just get this show on the road. I’ve wasted enough time, and we have to be back in L.A. by five thirty. What do you want to do?”
“I’m going to drive myself back home.”
“Mother, you don’t have a driver’s license.”
“I got here. I’ll get back.”
“So it’ll look like you just went for a little drive to think things over?”
Martha didn’t respond.
“Mother, Dad’s going to realize that you’re coming home with new clothes.”
“If that old fool knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his mouth shut!”
“He’s not going to say anything. He’ll just be glad to get you back without a major project and a wad of cash,” Danielle said, getting out.
“John, get the hell over here!” Martha yelled out the window.
John left the men and walked over to the truck.
“If you speak of this to anyone, you’ll be sorry. What were you talking to those old fools about?”
“Oh, they’re sorry to see you go but glad you got rescued.”
“I was not rescued! I was in complete control! You got any cash?” she asked Danielle, opening the door to the truck and getting out.
“Some, what do you need cash for?”
“Just give me your cash. I’ll get it back to you.”
“I’ve only got about a hundred,” she said, reaching into her purse.
Martha took the money from Danielle and headed over to the table where the old men were drinking the last of the beer.
“You sons-a-bitches find work!” she yelled at them and slammed the money down on the table. She got back in the truck, pulled the door shut, and started it.
“I’m going home, so you two can get on with your thing.” She looked over at the car. “Is that the stupid car Gus gave you to drive?”
“No,” replied Danielle, “I traded in my ten-thousand-dollar pile of junk and got this.”
“Always the smart mouth,” Martha said, closing the window and putting the truck in gear. She headed out to the street as the old men blew her kisses.
“Are you going to remind her of this from time to time?” asked John.
“Nah, that wouldn’t be nice,” said Danielle, chuckling. “Besides, the next time she’s getting in my face, I’ll just mention “Blythe” and it’ll change the conversation—quick. This one I’m banking.”
*
“We have got to make up some time,” said Danielle, back on the highway. “If we don’t get this car back in time, I don�
�t know what we’re going to do if they’re closed.”
“We could get a place and wait for morning,” suggested John.
“I don’t have any money left. Besides, I’m not spending the night in a motel with you.” Danielle was angry. “I thought we were friends. Now you’re going to pull this on me?”
“I was only trying to—”
“No, John, you were being a man. And men can’t resist taking advantage of a situation!”
“I’m sorry if you thought I was taking advantage.”
“You’re always apologizing. Stand up and be a man, John!”
“Didn’t you say that men always take advantage of the situation?”
“Oh, shut the hell up and watch the road!”
*
Danielle and John sat against a small sand shelf formed by the high tide. They were looking out over the beach, watching the surf roll in. They had delivered the car successfully and the adventure was over. John was sitting with his legs stretched out. Danielle was next to him with her legs pulled up and her arms wrapped around her knees.
“Did you have a good time?” Danielle asked with a sigh, watching a dog approach them along the waterline.
“I had a wonderful time,” he said, “but you seem melancholy. What’s the problem?”
“I had too good of a time.” She sighed again. “I hated turning that car in.” She turned to him. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re talking about a fairly broad subject here. I’m not sure I really understand,” John confessed.
“My daughter hates me. My boyfriend is a little boy in men’s clothing “and” a lunatic, as usual. My entire family is dysfunctional. And I had the time of my life driving a car that should be illegal. What is wrong with me? Why aren’t I normal?”
“Do you know any normal people?”
“Of course,” she replied.
“Would you like to be them? To be satisfied by the same things they are?”
“Borrring!”
Danielle whistled, trying to get the attention of the dog that had stopped twenty feet away and was watching her, wagging its tail.
“There you go, you’re happy where you are,” John concluded.
“But I still think there is something wrong with me.”
Danielle whistled again and stuck her hand out, trying to coax the dog to come closer, but it sat down.
“You’re judging yourself by other people’s opinions.”
“Think so?” she asked.
“I know so,” he declared.
“I just want exciting, different things all the time. I want to find someone who lives for life, not for the things in it,” said Danielle, her voice cracking slightly. “Like now, I want something special to happen right now!”
The dog suddenly got to its feet and walked right up to Danielle. It lifted its leg and peed all over her shoe.
“What the hell!” she shouted, kicking at the dog, which calmly walked away. “Son of a bitch! Did you see that?” Danielle said, jumping to her feet and shaking the wet shoe.
“That was exciting and different,” John said a mischievous smile on his face.
*
Danielle and John were getting into the limo Gus had called to take them back home.
“You came through for me again,” Gus told Danielle, handing her a roll of bills. “You’re still looking like a million bucks, and I won’t wait as long to call this time.” He turned to John. “It was a pleasure to meet you, John. You seem like a decent fellow,”—Gus reached out and shook his hand—“which means Danielle will never be interested in you.”
Danielle didn’t seem to notice the comment.
Chapter 17
Danielle and John went to her place after the road trip. Some friends of Danielle’s, Bonnie and her daughter were visiting. With prodding and promises to John that marijuana was nothing like alcohol, they smoked a little pot and had the giggles. Heather was there as well, giving John a displeased look for smoking the evil weed.
Paul, Danielle’s old roommate, knocked on the door, which was open except for the screen.
“What the hell do you want?” yelled Danielle through the screen. “I thought I got rid of you for good!”
“I’ve been away, doing something important,” Paul said seriously, opening the screen and inviting himself in. “I still want to live here.”
“Forget it. You’ve screwed me around enough, and no way you’re getting back in our lives,” Danielle informed him. “We’ve already settled this.”
“I’ve been at a school for three weeks and—”
“Get serious, you’re too dumb to learn anything,” Heather said as Paul walked into the living room.
Danielle shook her head as Paul looked at John with an unmistakable death-ray glare.
“I want you to go now, Paul! I don’t want you here.” Danielle was serious.
“I need something to eat. I’m hungry,” said Paul, headed into the kitchen.
“Whatever! Just don’t take too long. And I told you, you can’t stay here!”
“Do you believe this crap?” Danielle asked everyone as Paul banged around in the kitchen, making as much noise as possible to disturb them.
“This is the Paul guy you told me about?” asked Bonnie, chuckling.
“Yeah, real impressive, huh?” said Danielle.
“Geez, Danielle, he must really have a big one,” added Bonnie.
“You guys are disgusting,” said Heather. She was the only one not laughing.
Danielle giggled. She had a smirk on her face. “It wasn’t big enough to compensate for his other shortcomings. That’s why I sent him packing.”
“You’re sick, Mother!”
Everyone laughed even harder.
Paul came out of the kitchen wearing an apron, pushing the vacuum onto the rug.
“Paauuuull,” Danielle bleated like a sheep, “what do you think you’re doing?” She had an incredulous look on her face. “I told you to leave.”
“I’m going to vacuum. I’m going to show you all that I’m okay.”
Danielle laughed. “What? You’re not okay. You’re out of your freakin’ mind. We all know that.”
“I am not. I’m okay, see? I’m vacuuming.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Danielle said with her hands on her hips, trying to be serious but smiling and shaking her head. “You are certifiably nuts, and this proves it.”
John was laughing, lying on the couch and holding his side. Everyone else was looking at Paul, also laughing, though not sure what was really happening.
“Who is this guy?” Paul asked, giving John the glare again. “You’d better be careful. You don’t know where I was,” he told John.
John’s laughing subsided somewhat, but his face showed no reaction to Paul’s attempt at intimidation.
“Oh, okay, Paul, where were you?” asked Danielle, still laughing.
“I told you, I went to school.” Paul turned to Danielle with a sweet smile.
“What school?” Danielle had stopped laughing and tried to be serious.
“I learned how to break arms and legs,” Paul said, looking quickly at John, again with his death glare.
“In just three weeks?” said Danielle, annoyed. “You need some professional help, Paul. You’re flipping out.”
“I’m serious. I can break his leg if I really wanted to,” he told Danielle with a benevolent look. He looked quickly at John, immediately returning to his threatening, hostile look.
“You leave him alone, Paul!” screamed Heather. “He’s our friend, and you’ve got to leave!”
“I can break his legs if I want to,” Paul said with a menacing tone. “They taught me how.”
“Oh, come on, Paul,” said Danielle, “you can’t be serious. And don’t start anything with John. You’ll be sorry.”
Paul looked at John with the death glare, trying to intimidate him, but John just laughed.
“Paul, get out,” said Danielle. “Nobo
dy is taking you serious, and if you wreck anything in my house, I’m going to be really pissed and I’ll bust your ass.”
“I am going to break both his arms and legs!” Paul shouted. He crouched into a karate stance, directing his most powerful death-ray glare at John.
“Okay, Paul, settle down,” John said, getting up from the couch and going for the door. John opened it and hurried outside. “Danielle said she didn’t want any damage to the house.” Paul followed with a silly karate walk, his hands held rigid and the murderous look still on his face, but still wearing the apron.
Outside, John was backing up as Paul advanced.
“Come on, Paul, you’re just making your case worse,” John said as Heather came out the door behind Paul with an iron skillet in her hands. Heather wound up like she was going to hit a home run. She targeted the back of Paul’s head. “I’ll fuckin kill you, you asshole!” she screamed.
John quickly jumped at Paul, trying to get him out of the way of the heavy skillet that was about to be unleashed on his head. John’s rush scared Paul and he threw his hands up to protect himself.
“Hold it!” John shouted at Heather, throwing Paul aside like he was a stick man. “Don’t hit him with that, you’ll really hurt him.”
“I don’t care; I want him out of here!” Heather snarled menacingly, moving in on Paul, who was fumbling for his balance.
Now Heather had the skillet above her head, still solidly in both hands, still drawing a bead on Paul, who was no longer threatening anyone. He was backing up, terrified of Heather.
“Come on, Paul, leave before somebody gets hurt,” said John, stepping between Paul and Heather. “If you promise to leave right now, I’ll make sure that Heather doesn’t kabong you. How about it?”
“I don’t have to!” Paul starts stomping his feet on the ground, having a tantrum. “They can’t kick me out. I still live here.” Paul took off running back into the house. “I’m staying!” he declared, dashing through the open door.
“Oh, damn!” yelled Danielle.
She ran after Paul, followed by John and Heather.
The others were still in the living room with surprised looks on their faces.
“Where’d he go?” asked Danielle.
“Back in the hall,” said Bonnie.
“Oooh, shiiit!” Danielle rushed down the hall and started screaming. “You get the fuck out of there, Paul, or I’m calling the cops right now! I want you out of my bed, now!”
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