Further Adventures (13 page)

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Authors: Jon Stephen Fink

BOOK: Further Adventures
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Good Intentions + Will Power = Complications. By this I made my worst judgments. Also by this formula a Mr. and a Mrs. Lie down in their marriage bed and this is how children come into the world in a Vicious Circle. I am happy to say up to the very end this is
one
mistake nobody gave me a Chance to make.

In my rearview I caught the romantic sight of the Sun going down behind the tail-lights of the Raymobile and out of the windshield I saw the long Indian rubber shadow stretch in front. With the acceleration I was riding on a slingshot flying into the dark of night which loomed before me.

I will not say I was in a happy mood at that minute & the main reason of my misery was sitting next-door to me in the front seat. Amelia decided to punish me on account of sin of tardy departure from the Upside-down House which she did by the Silent Treatment. By no means it was not silent altogether since she demanded all the windows wide open for the Air which I agreed since it was dry & hot my Air Conditioner being on the fritz since 1975.

Maybe we go 20 or 30 Miles in this aggravating condition then Amelia loosens up & relaxes a inch so she kindly converses with me. “Look at those trees,” she pointed at the landscape.

Curly cactus she meant crooked Silhouettes propped up between the orange soil & orange sky. Bent over branches hooks branch into hooks on them a nest of question marks hanging in the Air. But I did not observe them correctly so I did not see how they stood for warning signs for me personal.

“Nice,” I granted it.

“You want coffee?”

I told her No Thank You very much at the moment. Here is another example of how consequences of certain actions can sneak up i.e. how my Past invades me. This idea applies to objects the same.

Watching the road & steering took all of my concentration also I wrestled the Question around in my mind should I turn on my headlights. Only by accident I took a glance sidewise when Amelia got the thermos in her lap. “Remember—” I started to remind her it was a Upside-down House thermos souvenir with the plug on the bottom & this plug fits very loose.

Of course Amelia unscrewed it from the bottom which is the correct move with a Upside-down Thermos except she was holding it Rightside-up i.e. upside-down from the point of view of the bottle inside. Hot coffee leaked out all over her hands all over her Safari Suit pants too. Did Amelia screech! Out of surprise & pain she threw my thermos on the floor she gave it a kick from her heel! All the coffee slopped out & the smell of it mixed with the rubber mat also it got on the carpet but I did not yell at her & add my worry to the mess.

“There’s Kleenexes in the glove compartment,” I said. “Don’t pull it. Push the button first. It sticks.”

She pulled the edge. She pushed the button. She screeched at it. Another screech & a kick at my dashboard in fury & the glove compartment had enough. The lid dropped open the Kleenex came out a white flag of surrender.

I will not say Amelia was unpredictable but I will say she had a hot temperament on her. In that minute it was a glimpse of her true Character—all of her reactions came very instant. When she got what she wanted when her reaction satisfied her she sank down & waited for the next thing.

It is a Tradition to compare a beloved woman to a flower of some variety which captures her Nature. Annie LaSalle I will always compare with a rose the thorns amid pink petals. Amelia I will compare with
a Venus Fly Trap. Sitting still until a bug lands—tickle tickle—then she springs into action DEVOURS then sinks back & waits for the next dumb bug.

“You hear that noise?” She rolled up her window to hear better.

A rough rattle like metal maracas knocking around somewhere under the car.

“You probably kicked the fan belt off the flywheel.” I rolled my window & the chattery Sound muffled down. “It’s probably nothing.”

So right on Cue my steering wheel starts vibrating in my hands then out grinds this loud CRACK!—my motor VAROOMS out of control my acceleration is completely KAPUT!

Oh Amelia had her instant reaction to this disaster: she sank down in her seat & stared straight ahead like she was facing a firing squad. Or the Valley of the Shadow of Death in front of her and she murmured a Mexican singsong. This behavior made my nerves stand on end.

Not so far at the end of a long slope in the road lucky for us the friendly lights of a gas station. We picked up speed going down so I let out my relief by saying, “I bet we can coast all the way down.”

Good thing my power steering & power brakes were still in business so I swooped the Raymobile in and stopped on a dime it shivered when I switched off the key. I did not see him but the kid on duty was on the spot in his clean overalls happy to help a Customer with a problem that was more of a interesting challenge than a empty gas tank. A Boy Scout could not be better! His straight hair with a part on the side very neat so I did not worry.

“It won’t go,” I said. “I coasted in.”

“Lemme hear the engine.” I fired it up and revved. “Whoa! O.K. that’s enough!”

“I heard a big
crack
. Then I stepped on the gas and—
pssht
—nothing. I think it’s maybe the fuel pump. Or a rod.” (You need to show them you are not a stranger to auto parts.) “One of those or the cam.”

“You got a problem somewheres in your drive train. Maybe your whole transmission.”

“How long to put in a new one? We have to get to Gonzales tonight.”

“New transmission.” He gave out a shy chuckle. “What year is it?”

Was he cracking wise? “It better not take a year to fix,” I cracked back at him.

“Looks like a ’63 to me.”

The Raymobile’s birth he meant. “Right. It’s a ’63. June.”

“Does it go at all?”

I started the motor & put it into Drive but it did not drive anywhere. Amelia looked at me deadpan.

“Transmission,” said the Kid.

I got out to push. And another car pulls in it swings around & stops sharp on the other side of the pumps. Very ordinary for a car it was powder blue or powder beige a Ford or Chevy. Either that or a Buick. The unusual feature I did observe was instead of a mirror on the door it was a Searchlight screwed on there.

Also the 4 men inside gave us the once-over which made Amelia turn away from the heat of their gazes. Only one of them stands out in my memory in living color a hefty man with crinkly red hair on his head & very hairy hands. His cheeks very apple red too I thought from cramming his heavy neck into a shirt collar a size too tight. Nice suit though which matched his car but dirty fingernails on him.

“Hold it a minute,” the kid said to me. He stepped between the pumps & unhooked the Unleaded.

“You bet,” the redhead agreed and he climbed out of his car for a stretch. He nodded my way. “Evening.”

“Hiya.” Nor I did not want to get distracted by small talk.

He leaned over he looked right past me & he peered in to catch Amelia’s eye. “Senorita,” he greeted her before he came back to me with a wink. “Or is it Senora?”

We nodded & grinned at each other very manly. “My transmission’s kaput,” I let him in on it.

“Trouble. What is it? A ’65?”

“’63.”

He whistled. “Vintage. How many miles on that thing?”

“Not as many as I’ve got on me.”

He laughed very easy at my friendly remark. I started to wonder what was the big joke about a little mechanical problem like a cracked transmission! So what so I am stuck in a gas station a hour for the kid to open a box take out a new one & install it under my car! Big joke!

“Got far to go?” my new friend asked me.

“How far’s Gonzales?”

He put his head back in his own car. “How far’s Gonzales?”

Somebody inside cracked back, “From where?” Somebody else told him, “It’s ’bout 200.”

“About 200 miles,” he advised me. “Your transmission’s busted I don’t expect you’ll get across the border tonight.”

The kid finished filling up and asked him, “Cash or charge?” and got handed $50.

“Say son? You think I can get you to hang one of our posters in the office there?” He handed the kid a flyer.

“I hafta ask Mr. Pepper, it’s his station.”

“That’s Choley Pepper iddn’t it?”

“Uh-huh. He’s perticlar ’bout advertisin’ on the premises.”

“I know Choley,” the redhead man said. “He’ll be good with it. Tell him Wayne brung it over.”

“Wayne. All right.”

“Wayne Feather.”

“O.K.,” said the kid but he did not look up from the flyer in his hand.

Before he climbed behind his wheel Wayne Feather passed me one of his posters. “Maybe you can find someplace to stick this.”

I read it over. It was printed like a Wanted Poster and where the likeness of the fugitive is usually there was a drawing of a drunk lazy Mexican (sombrero & serape etc.) stretched out on a whole row of chairs in a Welfare Office & all around him a crowd of clean-cut Americans fretting & fuming. WANTED! And underneath it said FOR ROBBERY AND MURDER!

According to the information the ROBBERY was of food out of American mouths & money out of American pockets & jobs out of American towns. The helpless MURDER victim was the American Family. Innocent Americans had to suffer from these terrible crimes performed by mobs of Wetbacks gatecrashing the U.S. border. They bring ruin to the Economy. They breed they fester they infest. They ignore Keep Off The Grass! The poster wanted to arouse all decent Americans to join with their local Citizens Patrol to keep out Mexican pests & parasites and keep America safe for Americans i.e. a community service.

I crumpled mine in my fist I threw it direct in the trash but the kid left his poster on top of a pump. “Let’s roll your vehicle over to the service bay.”

I was going to tell Amelia she will have to get out we are going to push but she was gone. “You see where my friend went?”

“Uh-huh,” the kid replied from the rear end.

I am not huffing or puffing at all while we push the Raymobile. “What do those fellas do with their Citizens Patrols?”

“Depends I guess. They say they don’t do nothin’ ’cept drive along the border ’round Juarez. An’ when they catch a wetback they hold him for the Border Police.”

“Can they do that legal?”

“If they can or not I guess they do.”

He got the Raymobile on the elevator thing & from underneath in the pit he gave a professional examination. “Got some bad news for ya,” he concluded.

“My transmission’s broken?”

“’Fraid so.” He sighed my way. “You be lucky to find the parts for it inside fifty miles of here.”

“Can you send your tow truck to pick one up?”

“What we’re talkin’ about here mister is a whole new transmission for a 26 year old car. ’S older than I am.” He made it sound like the Raymobile needed a Heart Transplant. “Won’t be before next Wednesday at least.”

“A week?”

“Can’t even haul it over to the transmission place till tomorrow sometime.”

Very frantic I walked under the fan belt display. Under the hub caps. Behind the batteries. “All these new parts here! You’re sure there’s no transmission somewhere? In a box?”

“Best thing I can suggest is you get a room over to the Bluebird Motel. I’ll ast my boss when he gets here. Maybe he knows how to get it done quicker but I doubt it.”

“Which way to the ladies room?”

I followed the kid’s directions step by step but all I ran into was a stack of Radial Retreads no toilet door no Amelia. I did not push the panic button. On my second lap past the Raymobile I saw the kid outside pumping gas again—and Amelia was squeezing herself into the shadows behind the Coke machine.

“Where did you go?” I called out to her.

“Ssh!”

“You just got out and took off. What’re you hiding for in here?”

“Those mens.” She looked very careful by my shoulder. “They go?”

“Half a hour ago. Will you come out now? We need to change our plans.”

“Who is there now?”

I glanced where the kid was. “Couple guys in a pickup truck.” I put a couple of dimes in the slot.

“This is no safe Ray. No safe for me here.”

I obliged Amelia & kept quiet nor we did not start talking again until whoever it was out there drove away.

“I think those mens…” Her Voice faded before her thought did so I caught exactly what she meant.

“What—from your friend? From the F.B.I.? You’re wrong. Don’t worry.” I put in a quarter because no more dimes. “This is getting expensive. Will you come outside now?”

“The way they look at me.”

“They weren’t government workers Amelia for
sure
.” I spoke very calm. I punched the coin return but only the quarter bounced out. I jiggled some more & got Zero back for my work. “Those guys before they’re just hunting illegal Mexicans.”

“I think one of them take my picture you know?”

“Think this machine just took my other 30 cents.”

Amelia came halfway out from behind with her eyes damp & her lips pulled back over her teeth. “I’m telling you somethings!”

“Why do you think he did that?”

“Where I am.” She shrugged. “He saw me. Sure.”

“I’m lookin’ at you now doll.”

“He can fix the car?”

When I gave her the whole story Amelia hung her head down her shoulders shook & from her sobs I lifted her chin. Comfort by the idea she was not alone she could depend on me but she stayed in the gloomy mood from that moment on.

We checked into the Bluebird Motel as Mr. & Mrs. So at least we looked the Part. If I leave out the part about the color T.V. that only picked up electric confetti on every channel and I do not mention the
part about the stack of magazines on the coffee table being a supply of Arizona Highways from a year ago and I do not make a big deal there was only 1 bed & 1 blanket & 1 chair I can say the room was not very bad.

Amelia stretched out on the bed I insisted on her back but she did not rest she did not sleep. She stared at the ceiling & I stared at the pleasant photographs of asphalt & cactus & Gila monsters in
Arizona Highway
.

She got up again and sat on the floor with her Astrological books. “You go on the bed,” she offered me.

“I’m O.K. here.” I nodded at her so the bed stayed empty. I asked her in general, “What’s that you’re doing?”

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