“Drive!” Claire yelled.
Ollie grabbed the wheel and swerved just in time to avoid running off the road.
*
At the one hundred twenty mile marker:
Ollie whisper-shouted back to G-Ray, “Hey! Get your camera rolling. I want this on tape.” She pointed over at Claire.
G-Ray leapt into action. He crouched near Claire’s bucket seat and aimed the camera at her. Claire was sleeping against the door, her head vibrating against the window. Oscar slept in her lap. A small drip of saliva oozed out of the corner of Claire’s mouth.
“She’s going to kill me when she sees this,” G-Ray said.
“No, she won’t,” Ollie said. “She’ll kill me.”
*
At the two hundred mile marker:
A sports car pulled up to within inches of the van’s bumper and blasted its horn three times. Ollie peered into her rearview mirror. She dropped off the accelerator and veered as far right as she could. She rolled down her window, stuck her arm out and waved for the car to go around her, saying, “C’mon and pass me, if you’re in such an all-fired hurry.”
Claire sat up straight in her seat and gave the car the evil eye as it passed them. She leaned over and glanced at the speedometer. “What’s the rush? Fifty-five not fast enough for them?”
The sports car passed them and beeped their horn twice in thanks. It was dragging a length of tin cans from its rear bumper. Soaped across the back window were the words “Just married.”
Ollie and Claire stared straight ahead as the just-married couple raced to their honeymoon, obviously anxious to start their new life together.
G-Ray caught the whole thing on tape. He shut off the camera and said, “Doods… That was, like, irony. Am I right? Film-matic irony at its best.”
Neither Ollie nor Claire responded.
*
At the two hundred and fifty mile marker:
Claire rummaged around in the glove box. She victoriously pulled out a CD. “Aha! At last! Civilized music.”
She ejected the Butthole Surfers CD and stuck in the new one. After a few seconds, Elvis began singing about a hound dog crying all the time.
“I didn’t know you liked Elvis,” Ollie said.
Claire responded, “There are lots of things you don’t know about me.” She turned the music up so loud that talking became impossible and an air of infectious high spirits overtook them. Ollie played the drums on her steering wheel. Claire sang at the top of her lungs. G-Ray strummed air guitar and did the world’s worst Elvis impersonation.
Even Oscar wasn’t immune. He sat up straight in Claire’s lap, stretched out his neck and howled along with them.
Scarlet Speaks
Scarlet stared at the camera without blinking. “I’m not liking this. I’m not liking this at all. This was not on my list. You want to see my list? I have it right here. I never go anywhere without it.”
Scarlet held up a spiral notebook close to the camera’s lens. The notebook had a picture of a rainbow and a unicorn on the front cover and was covered with sparkles.
“I’ve had this notebook since the seventh grade. I still love unicorns. They’re my signature animal.”
She opened the notebook and flipped through the pages. “Here it is. My list. It is entitled My Dream Life and How to Achieve It in Seven Steps.”
She cleared her throat and read with an air of reverence, “Number One: Graduate High School.”
She ticked off an imaginary box in the air, saying, “Check.”
Scarlet alternated reading from the list and checking off air-boxes. “Number Two: Graduate College. Check. Number Three: Travel Europe and experiment with hashish and hot European chicks. Check. Number Four: Get job that pays extremely well. Check. Number Five: Get liposuction as necessary. Check. Number Six: Buy house and red convertible. Check. Number Seven: Get married to older woman who has a great job by the time I am thirty.”
She slapped the notebook closed and glared at the camera. “Number Seven is not checked and I will be thirty in less than six months. And why isn’t it checked? Because this Ollie person who doesn’t even own a pair of long pants or have an IRA is married to the woman I love!”
She wrapped her well-manicured fingers around her own throat and acted like she was strangling herself. “Aaaarrrrggghhhh!”
She took a deep breath and collected herself. After three deep breaths, she squinted at the camera and growled, “Nothing stops Scarlet Luann Bronson from getting what she wants.” She shook her fist at the camera and said in a tone reminiscent of her namesake from Gone with the Wind, “With God as my witness, I shall never go hungry again.”
She settled back in her chair and lifted her chin triumphantly. “A little FYI on me… I once performed Farrah Fawcett’s monologue from The Burning Bed in the talent portion of the Miss Houston Beauty Pageant. I won second runner up and was awarded a trophy and a year’s supply of frozen mountain oysters.”
Scarlet picked up a stuffed lavender unicorn and snuggled her face into it. She said in high-pitched baby-talk, “Isn’t that right, Bubbles? Nothing stops us from getting what we want.” She kissed Bubbles the Unicorn on the nose.
The camera turned off.
Dueling Banjos
“So, tell me how you all met,” G-Ray said. He was sitting on the floorboard between Ollie and Claire, wearing his homemade helmet camera. Which was actually just the camera duct taped to a motorcycle helmet which in turn was strapped to his head. “We need a beginning point for our film. Have you all ever noticed that every good story starts with a journey? Think of all the famous movies that start out with people getting in a vehicle and going somewhere. Thelma and Louise. Easy Rider. Deliverance.”
“Deliverance? If banjo music starts playing, I’m turning around and going back home,” Claire said. “I was only twelve years-old when I saw that movie. Now every time I hear a pig squeal I tinkle my panties.”
“I never saw it,” Ollie said. “My mom took me to see it at the drive-in but I was in the trunk the whole time.”
“What? Why were you in the trunk?”
“She was sneaking me in for free and then forgot I was back there.”
“Ladies, please. You’re avoiding the question,” G-Ray said, turning down the Elvis CD. “Tell me the story of how you two met.”
“Yeah, I want to hear your side of it,” Ollie said.
“You tell your side first,” Claire said.
“I know,” G-Ray said, “Ollie, you say one sentence about how you met Claire and then Claire, you say one sentence about how you met Ollie. You know back and forth, taking turns.”
Ollie looked at Claire. Claire shrugged and said, “You go first.”
Ollie took a deep breath. “Okay. It was summer on the beach.”
“I was there with my friend Suzanne,” Claire added. “Ollie was strolling up and down the beach like she was all that and she talked me into taking a lesson for free.”
“I wasn’t acting like I was all that,” Ollie said, “I was handing out business cards. You were laying there watching me for two hours and I finally walked over and said hi.”
“I was shy,” Claire said.
“Shy, my ass,” Ollie said.
“Did you know she was gay?” G-Ray asked Ollie.
“No, but I was hoping,” Ollie said. She glanced over at Claire. “She did have a rainbow towel and as soon as I talked to her my gaydar started beeping away. I asked if Suzanne was her girlfriend. I figured that was her chance to tell me whether she was family or not.”
“Ollie is pretty cute in her surfer shorts,” Claire said. “I told her I was between girlfriends. I also told her I wasn’t exactly athletic.”
“And I said I’d give her private lessons,” Ollie said, wagging her eyebrows up and down.
Claire rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile.
“She gets a lot of girls that way,” G-Ray popped in.
“I just wanted one,” Ollie said. She gl
anced over at Claire who was looking out the window. Ollie had never told Claire that for her it was love at first sight because Claire didn’t believe that such things were possible. She imagined Claire saying that it was hormones creating lust and people mistook lust for love. But for her it was Claire’s beauty, with her long chestnut hair and those big dark eyes. And, if truth be told, she also had a great upper deck. “She had this tiny orange bikini on. Great tits.”
Claire playfully whapped Ollie’s arm.
“Well, it’s true!” Ollie said.
“Well, you looked pretty good in your surfing shorts and tankini,” Claire said. “Nice calves.”
Ollie grinned. “We never quite made it to the surfing lesson. We downed about three pitchers of margaritas, made wild nasty love on the beach under the moon --”
Claire interrupted, “Got sand in places where sand should never be.”
“Drove all the way to Des Moines the next day--”
Claire interrupted again, “And found out a few months later that we had made a horrible mistake.”
There was silence. Finally, Ollie said in a low voice, “I didn’t think it was all that horrible.”
“You weren’t the one who had to deal with the pool problem,” Claire said. “You were always doing stuff, not thinking first, and then leaving me to clean up the mess.”
“If I remember right, you were the one who threw me out of the house. If you hadn’t told me that I’d be arrested if I ever came back maybe I could have cleaned up the so-called mess.”
Claire bristled. “So-called? What else could it be called? You flooded my house!”
“How was I supposed to know that a pool had that much water in it?”
“You completely ruined the basement and most of the first floor. I had to replace flooring, furniture and have drywall ripped out because of the mold!”
“You know what?” Ollie said. “I’m glad we’re getting this divorce!”
“Finally! We agree on something!”
Ollie turned on her blinker and took the next exit into a Love’s convenience store.
“Love’s convenience store,” G-ray intoned. He aimed his camera and zoomed in on the Love’s sign, saying, “Another film-matic piece of irony.”
The Tocks Have Spoken
Ollie pulled the van up next to a pump and shut off the engine. “G-Ray, will you go up top and check on EZ?”
“Your wish is my command,” G-Ray said.
“Make sure she’s secure and maybe put some sun-block on her face.”
“Consider it done.” G-Ray opened the sliding door and bailed out. Claire opened her door, saying, “I’ll pump the gas.”
“You sure?” Ollie asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” Claire said testily. “You think just because I’m femme I can’t pump gas?”
“I was just asking. I’ll go forage for snacks. Any requests?”
“Get me a Vitamin Water, please. Dragonfruit,” Claire said.
“C’mon, Oscar,” Ollie said, snapping the leash onto his collar. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Watching Ollie walk away with Oscar opened a floodgate of memories for Claire, both good and bad. Just looking at the tiny blond hairs on Ollie’s tanned forearms made her have lustful thoughts. Then Ollie opened her mouth and the next thing she knew she was picking a fight with her. How could one person make her so horny and so mad all at the same time? Thank God, she had Scarlet. Scarlet was easier. All Claire had to do was tell her she was pretty and buy her nice things. Love should be simple. Right? It was supposed to be easy, wasn’t it?
G-Ray interrupted her thoughts. “Um, Claire? I hate to tell you this, but…”
Claire looked up at him. He was kneeling on the roof of the van and had a stricken look on his face. The first thought that jumped into her brain was that EZ had expired.
“She’s not dead, is she?” Claire rambled on, not pausing for an answer, “Oh my God, this is all my fault. I didn’t really need to bring all that luggage. It was so selfish of me. And now look what happened. A person has died and all because I couldn’t leave my suitcase of shoes behind. I’m sorry.” A sob leaked out. “I’m so, so sorry. I am such a bad person.” She banged her forehead against the side of the van in anguish, repeating, “Bad, bad, bad…”
“No, it’s not that,” G-Ray said. “EZ is fine, man. Stop head banging. She’s not dead. She’s just wind-blown.”
Claire looked up at him. There was a big red spot on her forehead. “Then what is it?”
G-Ray looked all around like he was afraid somebody might be listening. He whispered, “My tock is tingling.”
“Your what?”
“Did he say his tock was tingling?” Ollie asked.
Claire flinched. She hadn’t seen Ollie walk up. Ollie had an armful of snacks and vitamin waters. Oscar jumped in the van and panted happily.
Claire took her Dragonfruit vitamin water out of Ollie’s hand and opened it. “What’s a tock? Or should I ask?”
“You know, his buttocks.”
“I have a right tock and a left tock. Together they are my butt-tocks,” G-Ray said.
“That makes sense in a really weird sort of way,” Claire said. She took a sip.
G-Ray leaped off the roof of the van. “I need a me-moment,” he said. He executed a weird walk – shuffle, shuffle, hop, shuffle, shuffle, hop - toward a picnic table that was situated on the far side of the parking lot.
“What’s he doing?” Claire asked, watching him try to walk while holding his butt in both hands. “It looks like he has his butt clenched while he’s skipping.”
“That’s pretty much what he’s doing,” Ollie said with a sigh. She opened the passenger door and unloaded the snacks into the seat, saying, “I guess it’s time to fill you in on G-Ray’s story.”
“His story? He has a story?”
Ollie nodded. “He was abducted by aliens. They kept him for a while, studying him and stuff. Ever since he got back, he’s had these weird tingling sensations in his buttocks. His ass is like a divining rod. It tells him what to do, where to go, what’s going to happen.”
“His butt is clairvoyant?”
“You could say that,” Ollie said.
Claire looked back over at G-Ray. He was now standing on top of the picnic table. He was bent over at the waist and aiming his butt in different directions. His eyes were squished shut and he had his index fingers plugged into his ears. He must get better reception that way, Claire thought.
G-Ray began to shuffle his feet like a chicken scratching in the dirt.
“What’s he doing right now?” Claire asked.
“His ass is pretty good at predicting the weather, too,” Ollie said. “Looks to me like there’s a storm on the way.”
Suddenly, G-Ray unplugged his ears and stood ramrod straight. He cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone and shouted, “Grassy Knoll! The tocks have spoken! We must go to the Grassy Knoll!”
“Grassy knoll?” Claire whispered.
Ollie smiled. “Looks like we’re going to be making a pit stop in Dallas.” She opened a bag and offered it to Claire. “Care for a pork rind?”
G-Ray Speaks
G-Ray’s right nostril filled the camera’s lens. After a moment of showing the long, dark tunnel of his nose, G-Ray backed up and his entire face filled the screen. He stared into the camera a full ten seconds before speaking.
“My name is G-Ray. People think my name has something to do with aliens or laser guns or something. It doesn’t. Ollie gave me the nickname when we were kids, man. My real name is Gordon Raymond, but that sucked for a skater dood, so she changed it to G-Ray.”
He scratched his chin for a moment, thinking hard, then continued, “I wasn’t going to do this. Like, be in my own movie? But it has become what you may call ‘apparent’ that I need to fill the audience in on my back-story. So here goes: I am what most people refer to as a conspiracy theorist. I totally scoff at that label, man. I am not a theorist.
I am a trueist. I have seen the truth. My Great Awakening happened on a Sunday. I was alone on the beach, man. And, like, this little gray dood walks up to me. He looked like a Keebler Elf but without the cookies. He smiled at me and said something in, like, a foreign language. It was all squeaks and creaks and clicks and clacks. I was more curious than scared. He picked up this conch shell and clicked and clacked into it. This big blue spaceship rose up out of the water and the little Keebler dood took my hand and we walked on water out to it. On top of the friggin’ water, man! And inside the mother ship was this whole tribe of the little elves. They weren’t wearing clothes or nothing, man, but they didn’t have any genitals. At least not in the usual places. They gave me something to drink. It was sweet and orange. I remember thinking it tasted like Tang or orange Kool-Aid. I kinda passed out after that. And when I woke up, I was lying on the beach, it was noon, my buttocks were tingly and my mind was expanded. I suddenly knew the answers to all life’s great mysteries. Who built the pyramids? What was Stonehenge? Who killed JFK? Who killed Marilyn Monroe? Did Elvis really die? What is the meaning of life? The only problem is… I forgot the all answers.”
He chuckled to himself. “That’s why I follow the tingly tocks, man. If I go to the Grassy Knoll like the tocks command, I can maybe solve the JFK riddle and remember all the answers. Then I can expand the brain of the world.”
He got up to turn off the camera, but stopped. He looked down his nose into the lens. “I know what you’re thinking. But I’m not crazy. Ollie had me tested and the doctor dood declared me sane and highly advanced on the speculum of creativity. Peace out, man, peace out.”
G-Ray flashed the two-fingered peace sign then turned the camera off.
The Grassy Knoll
“I can’t believe I’m actually standing here,” G-Ray said. “My tocks are pulsing. I can totally feel the pulse in my pants, man.”
Crazy Little Thing Page 3