But luck was on his side.
There was no more liquid in the radiator to create steam. So wherever he was, he was not visible from the air. As far as the BP was concerned, he could be anywhere within 2,000 square miles of desert.
But at the moment he was in the lobby of the Shot Out Inn and Motel Suites of Borrego Springs, back where they started less than an hour ago. The parking lot was empty, as were the eyes looking back at him from across the counter.
Elwood looked at the Hindu woman behind the front desk and calmly said, “Car’s broke down. It’s at the 76 up there. I need a room please.”
The chopper flew overhead and banked right, skirting Highway 8, westward towards the mountain.
“ID, please,” she replied.
“Oh, crap. I left it in the car. But I do have cash.” He pulled the bills out of his front pocket.
Her pupils dilated, and the corners of her mouth went from a drastic frown, to a straight severed line. “Fill this out. I need a copy. And then later, your ID.” She slid the form across the counter.
“Oh, yeah. Right,” replied Elwood.
-- -- --
Charlie watched the road ahead, Denice surveyed the road behind. Everyone was still on the floor. Two cruisers with lights on blazed past them in the oncoming lane.
“Jesus.” Dee exclaimed.
“You hear my asshole slam shut back there?” Charlie asked.
“That’s disgusting, honey.”
Charlie was on an adrenaline roll now, “God, that boy’s got balls.”
Denice said, “Yeah. Where his brains should be.”
“He saved our ass. He actually did it. I’m lovin’ that hillbilly right about now,” said Charlie excitedly.
In the back, Esperanza muttered to herself in Spanish, He is my hero. I hope he is safe.
Denice heard her. And even though she didn’t understand Spanish, she knew what the young girl what talking about. “Hold on honey, we’ll call him in a few,” she assured Esperanza.
“Okay, señora,” came a disembodied female voice from the back of the van.
Charlie proclaimed to Denise, “If you Google ‘stud’ Elwood’s picture would come up.” He looked in the rearview mirror, then looked at his wife, “Hand me the walkie-talkie.”
Denice was trying to reach Nea on the phone, but handed the radio to Charlie with her right hand. Charlie lit two smokes, and traded her one for the radio. He took a big drag, blew out two huge plumes through his nose. He keyed the hand set.
“How about it, studly? Are you out there?”
Nothing.
-- -- --
Woody had just filled out the registration form: Elwood Haroldson. Cheers. Boston, Massachusetts. License number: MST SWLO. He handed the woman a fifty-dollar bill to cover a twenty-nine dollar single room. He grabbed the key with a promise to return with his ID.
Once in his room, he closed the door, picked up his phone, and turned on his radio.
“Boss-man? Boss-Man? How’s about it?”
“I’ve gotcha, Wood Man, let’s get off the air. Call the company phone.”
“Ten-four.”
Denice was on her personal phone to her daughter, “Honey, the boy left wreckage for a mile and a half.”
The company phone rang, she handed it to Charlie.
“You okay, stud?”
“Yes, sir. Just chillin’ like a villain, how about you?”
“Smooth as glass. Thanks to you.”
“Tell Esperanza she owes me a kiss.”
“Ten-four. Look Denice has got Nea on the other line. Hold on a sec.”
Denice was saying, “Almost ran into the back of the Maxima...”
“Oh no he d’ent,” replied Nea-Nea in her best urban accent.
“Yup. Then the helicopter.”
“Charlie interrupted, “Hey, Denice, dammit. Tell her to jump in the goddamn car. And hold up.” He spoke hurriedly into the phone, “Where are you?”
“Same place as before,” replied Elwood.
Charlie turned his attention to Denice. “Tell her to haul ass. Not now, but right now.”
“What room?” asked Nea-Nea, obviously hearing Charlie through the phone.
“Room 100. Honey, bunny,” answered Charlie. “And do not dilly-dally.”
“Don’t worry,” reassured Denice to Charlie. “She’s already in the car, Brandt’s at Lily’s.”
“Cool.”
Charlie spoke quietly into the phone to Elwood, who had been patiently waiting for Charlie’s other phone conversation to end. “Watch the parking lot, little brother,” he instructed Elwood. “First sign of a cruiser, you take off into the desert. I will come find you.”
“Thanks, boss. The helicopter’s on the mountain. I guess they haven’t found the Maxima.”
“Place is gonna be swarming, Woody. You destroyed two cruisers. You crazy fuck.”
“Just doing my job.”
“I’m giving you a raise.”
“Sweet. How’s Esperanza?”
“She’s digging you a lot right now, stud muffin.”
“I want to see her again, Charlie.”
“I will make that happen, Wood Man. I’ll have Denice talk to Ramona, and tell her it’s a love thing.”
“Tell Denice I said thanks.”
“Goddamn. Woody. We’re thanking you right about now.”
It’s human nature to not look right under your own damn nose. Disappear like a chameleon. Hide in plain sight.
-- -- --
So it’s over the mountains and through the woods and across the fruited plains.
“Okay, people. We’re good. You can get up now. Please use your seatbelts.”
You don’t want to do an extra 24 to 36 months drinking toilet wine because of an “endangerment” enhancement to your federal prison sentence.
Esperanza translated in Spanish and then asked Denice in English, “Elwood is very brave, no?”
“You could say that.”
“I heard him tell you he wants to see me again.”
“Yes, I believe he’s smitten.”
“I don’t know this word, smitten, señora.”
Charlie looked at her over his right shoulder and said, “Esperanza, he did that crazy shit for you. He wants a phone number and a big sloppy kiss on the lips. And I think you should give him both. In that order.”
Esperanza smiled. For her it felt like the first time in a long time. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, a twinkle that transcended language barriers. She calmly asked Denice, “Do you have a pen, señora?”
-- -- --
Nea ran over the strange course of events in her head, trying to figure out just what in the hell her mom and dad were doing. The conflicting battle of right and wrong rages on inside all of us. The balance weighs differently depending on a multitude of social factors: environment, upbringing, moral compass, education – or the lack thereof.
As she neared the bottom of the grade, Nea turned up the radio. Big Bad Voodoo Daddy was playing. Keeping time with the music, she lit a smoke, and a small smile crossed her lips as she thought about her family. Never a dull moment with this tribe.
She made a left at the Borrego Springs Scenic Highway and another right at the Krishna Inn. She pulled in front of room 100, and before she could honk, Elwood was out the door and in the car.
“Hi. Good to see you,” he said.
“You crazy bastard,” she replied.
“Hey, it was your mom and dad. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Nea backed up the Tempo. “I’ll call my mom.”
“Let’s head toward Indio. Maybe we rent a car.” She turned east on Highway 8 and dialed the phone. “Hey, Mom. We’re on our
way to Indio.”
“Why?”
“Elwood wants to rent a car and finish the job.”
“Bless his heart. Hold on a sec.” She cocked her head towards her husband and said, “Nea’s got Woody. He wants to catch up with us.”
“Crazy SOB. Okay. Let me think.” After a moment he finally said, “Tell her to have Woody meet us at the Holiday Inn at Cabazon, just past Morongo.”
“You hear that, hon?” Denice said into the phone.
“Yeah. I’m dropping Mad Max off here at Enterprise Car Rental. I got to go back. Brandt is at Ron and Lily’s. Underfoot, no doubt.”
“Okay, kiss his cute little face for me, and thanks, Nea.”
“No problem.”
Now, had it been something like picking out too small of a purse, Nea would be in complete hysteria. Can’t find her lighter? Screaming and yelling ensues. But in times of family emergency, Nea becomes calm and lucid, quietly strategizing her next move. That’s why when shit hits the fan, Denice calls in her daughter, the heavy hitter. If you have a malfunction that concerns the DeVille family, you can depend on the fact Nea will make it her concern, and then fix it. Hopefully it’s not your fault.
Just ask Larry.
-- -- --
Elwood rented a Toyota Solara convertible using Nea’s Visa card. He had the top down and was running about 90 miles per hour over the staggered dune formations that peak and dip on the road to the eastern checkpoint of Indio. It was the long way around to Palm Springs and Morongo, but going back towards the now BP-infested western desert was a cluster-fuck of his making.
His mind was set on seeing Esperanza again. Coming up on Interstate 10 he pulled over and put the top up, and turned on the AC.
-- -- --
The Holiday Inn was a bust; too busy and too much glass. It was also three stories tall. You don’t want to chance a room on the third floor, it’s too much exposure. Charlie decided on the single level Motel 6.
Charlie parked around the side, and walked into the office.
Denice was on the phone to Elwood, informing him of the change of location. Charlie could hear a TV with The Price Is Right. Drew Carey was doing his Bob Barker thing. The office smelled like cayenne pepper and garlic breath.
“Good afternoon, sir. How may we help you?”
Charlie looked around for the part of we. “I’d like a room, please. On the end, if you have it. Less noise, you know.”
The manager smiled with a mouthful of yellow teeth. “I understand, sir. I believe we can accommodate your request.” He slid the registration form across the desk.
Charlie lifted up the chrome bell with the button on top. The one that is essential if you’re living in your office, and slid a one-hundred-dollar bill under it. The rooms were twenty-nine-ninety-five. “Love being accommodated. Keep the change, sir.”
Charlie filled out the form: John Holmes of Los Angeles, California. License number, DEP DCKN.
The desk clerk tucked the bill into his top pocket. Bingo. He had a new best friend and preferential lodging for the DeVille Corporation. Finally a break in the drama.
Charlie drove to the end of the building around the backside.
“Hey, look a pool,” observed Denice.
Esperanza had been assuming the role of translator and caregiver. She said to the other woman in the truck, “You need to shower, mija. Don’t be afraid I will look out for you.”
This ordeal seemed to affect her more than anyone. She acted like a deer in the headlights. Standing by the bathroom door, she said, “Señora, we are hungry. I have some money.”
“Okay, let me make a couple calls,” Denice told her. Then she turned to Charlie, “Okay, Mr. Large-and-in-charge, run for some supper.”
Charlie smiled. Denice threw the phone at him. “Call Ramona. Give her the 411 on our situation.”
“Say please.”
Denice licked her upper lip, slowly.
“Done deal.” Charlie scrolled down and pushed send. “One ringy-dingy. Two ringy-dingy. Ramona? Charlie.”
“Seems you’ve created a stir,” she answered.
“You heard?”
“Is everyone safe?”
“Safe and sound. Look. The universe has ten assholes, and I seem to have been standing under one all day. Shit just fell out of the sky.”
“Funny man.”
“We’re close. We need to get a bite and wait for my little brother.”
“He’s a hero?”
“Totally. Spandex panties and everything.”
“He’s on his way to you?”
“On the wings of love.”
“Huh?” asked Ramona, completely confused by his comment.
“Seems this whole business is a knight-in-shining-armor-type love story, involving a young lady traveling with us.”
“I see,” replied Ramona cautiously.
“We’ll talk at the mall.”
“Call me as soon as you can.”
“Don’t worry. Sleet nor snow, nor dark of night, and all that.”
“Cut the crap, Mr. Brown.”
“Love you, too.”
“Bye.”
Denice raised an eyebrow and gave Charlie The Look. “Love you, too?” she asked mockingly.
“She called me Charlie Brown. You know I hate that.”
“Then stop being a Bozo,” warned Denice.
Charlie cleared his throat and adjusted his attitude.
“Let’s find some food.”
“You’re the hunter-gatherer.”
“Shall I creep up on a Jack in the Box?”
“Let’s go Mexican. I’ll check the phone book.”
Denice called Elwood as she rifled through the yellow pages. “How you doing, hon?”
“I’m straight. A little tired.”
“You have any cash?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re all starving here. We need Mexican food. For ten.”
“Gotcha. Mex for ten.”
“We’re in room number 38.”
“Okay. I’m 30 minutes away. Call it one hour, with the stop.”
She gave him the address.
-- -- --
Elwood could not get her face out of his mind. The way she looked at him with a timid expression in her eyes, that come-on-with-it smile, and the tendrils of her long black hair that she continually blew out of her face. He had fallen so fast. He could hear the wind. Or was that the convertible top?
As for Esperanza, she knew he’d be here soon. Why did she feel like this? Her heart was pounding, even though she barely knew him.
-- -- --
When Elwood arrived at the Motel 6 he received a hero’s welcome, and not just because of the ten pounds of takeout he had in six bags. The group was all smiles, handshakes and pats on the back. Elwood worked his way to the desk near the microwave and set down his load.
Charlie grasped his hand and did the shoulder-bump man-hug.
“Your stock is skyrocketing right now, brother.”
Denice came forward and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you, Woody. You put your ass in harm’s way for the team.”
Elwood looked at his feet. “Thanks, boss. Thank you, Mrs. Denice. Ah, shit. Thanks, Dee.”
Elwood felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around just as Esperanza grabbed his face in both hands, stood on her tippy toes and gently kissed his lips.
“You are my hero, Mr. Woody.”
“I could not let them have you.” He reached around her small waist and held her close.
Denice put her head on Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie put his arm around his wife and whispered, “Mr. Woody. That’s some funny shit. Tell Mr. Woody to stand down.”
Denice reached over, grabbed his crotch with her left hand, and applied some pressure. “Do not ruin this moment for him.”
Charlie nodded his head in the affirmative.
“I will put this thing in my purse if you’re gonna use it to think with. Understand?”
Charlie was tethered to the ground. His wife had a firm grip on reality. Also, on his balls.
The group was in excellent spirits as they broke bread together and partook in some social lubricant, in the form of all-American Coor’s Light. Sometime later, Elwood and Esperanza slipped away, leaving the keys to the big Ford Excursion missing from the little table. But the SUV was still parked around the corner. Charlie and Denice slipped out as well, as soon as everyone was asleep, for a quick skinny dip in the pool. With no moon, it was dark and tepid. Love was in the air. The excitement of the day mixed with the danger of the night. The clients were all asleep, California dreamin’.
-- -- --
Exiting the seventy-degree pool water, wrapped in terry cloth towels, Charlie and Denice tiptoed back towards their room when Mr. Hamoudi (the motel owner) stopped them dead in their tracks.
He stood there with cases of soda to restock his machines. The bearded man broke the awkward silence, “Ahhh! Mr. and Mrs. Mysterious.”
Charlie and Denice were both baffled and perplexed, so mysterious was not far off the mark.
Charlie, fully aware of his nakedness under the towel asked, “Are we in trouble?”
“Not as far as the motel is concerned,” replied Mr. Hamoudi.
Denice suddenly recognized him, “You’re the manager.”
“Correct, ma’am. Owner, janitor, maintenance, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Nice place you have here,” said Charlie, looking around like it was his first time here. “Water’s the perfect temperature.”
“Yes, well, not only do we keep a light on for you, but the pool heater as well.”
Charlie, for lack of a quick retort simply replied, “Nice.”
Denice, remembering her manners, piped up, “My name is Denice, this is my husband Charlie DeVille.” Like knowing the fact they were married made skinny-dipping at 1:00 a.m. okay in Mr. Hamoudi’s mind.
Jacumba Connection Page 17