American Road Trip

by Sarah Black

  “Okay, good.” This was a little more raw emotion than either of us could take. “You want an engagement ring?”

  He started laughing then, took a step toward the bed, balancing me in his arms. We were kissing for the first time as future husbands when his big foot landed with a crunch on Tino’s back leg.

  The shrieks and howls woke the neighbors in the room next door, and they pounded on the wall and told us to shut up. Tino hid under the bed. We both knelt on the carpet, tried to draw him out so we could see the damage, but he wouldn’t come until Easy brought him a bacon treat. Easy lifted him in one big hand. He lay limp, chewing on his bacon treat, the back leg hanging down.

  “Shit, Jamie. I think we broke his leg.”

  “We have no time or money for a vet. Let’s rig up a field splint and see how he’s doing tomorrow.”

  Easy looked a bit uncomfortable with this. “Isn’t that child abuse or something? We’re gonna find Austin first, right?”

  “Before we get married? Of course.” I stared at the little dog, my eyes narrowed. He was lying like a princeling in Easy’s hand, in no obvious pain, head snuggled into the fingers. Just for a moment, I pictured him in one of those trash compactors, getting squished until all that was visible above the solid rectangle of compacted trash were two ratty black ears. “I believe he’ll live. You two stay here.”

  “I mean, it would be like we were leaving him behind, moving on and being happy, and he still needs us.”

  “We won’t get married until Austin can be our best man. Or flower girl.” I had a horrible image of Tino, a white flower wreath on his battered head, marching me down the aisle. God help me.

  I tugged my tee shirt and boxers back on, slipped into a pair of jeans, and went to the motel office.

  The complimentary breakfast buffet was being set up, and I studied the offerings. Instant oatmeal, boiled eggs, cheese danish, muffins. Nothing there. Then I spotted the small boxes of Wheaties. I turned to the young woman fixing the buffet and gave her a winning smile. “I don’t suppose I could ask you for a favor?”

  She studied my hair. “It’s so pretty. I bet you’re a model!”

  Tino was rigged with a field splint made of Wheaties cardboard and borrowed duct tape. Easy packed us up, took the muffins and bananas I’d brought from the buffet without a comment, and put them in the go bag. I took this to mean our window of opportunity for lovemaking had passed.

  We drove hard and fast across the desert. Easy kept a close eye on the dashboard of the truck, and when we stopped for gas, he checked the fluids.

  “She’s a fine girl,” he said, stroking the hood. “She’s doing good.”

  Tino was carried to a spot of sand out back, and he waited to get picked up after doing his business, Wheaties splint stuck out at an angle. I could see that his days of walking were coming to an end, and I’d be carrying the little shit until kingdom come.

  “I was thinking,” Easy said, Tino resting in his hand. “We could rig him up one of those baby slings. You know, like mothers wear across their chests.”

  “And I was thinking we could leave him in the dumpster. I’d give him a fifty-fifty chance he’d claw his way out and begin an epic trek across the desert back to Albuquerque. He’d probably make it home before we did.”

  “If you ever get on his bad side, you’re in for a lifetime of being treated like an asshole,” Easy told the little dog. “Remind me of that, I ever decide to push him too far.” Tino licked his thumb. Easy went into the gas station, came back out with a Slim Jim, a bottle of San Pellegrino for me, and a big red cowboy bandana. I didn’t ask, just took my water and drank deep. He shared the Slim Jim with Tino.

  Chapter Eleven

  WE HIT LA traffic in the early afternoon and got snarled on the interstates. I didn’t know enough about navigating in the city to give good directions, and Easy just gripped the big wheel and tried to stay calm.

  “I’m not staying out here if we can’t find that little shit,” he said. “I mean it, James Lee. Something’s wrong with these people.”

  I stared out at the lines of cars backed up on the on-ramps, the off-ramps. “I hear you, brother.” We cut across eventually and started down the Pacific Highway. The drive was pretty, but we couldn’t see much of the ocean. We both had headaches from the traffic and the sun. I started to rethink our plan.

  “I had this idea we’d just hit the beach and there he’d be. Surfing or something. Maybe we’d see him driving by. I think we need to go up to Oxnard, then in the morning head back down on the beach road, stop at the public beaches, look around. It will not be easy to distinguish our VW camper van with painted flowers full of stoners, if he’s even with them still.”

  Another VW camper van painted bright pink passed us. They were everywhere. It was like they were breeding on the California beaches.

  The sands were packed, mile after mile of young guys in swimsuits, running around with surfboards. He could have been anywhere, or nowhere at all. There were thousands of them, mile after mile of beach, and from the truck, the boys all looked the same, tan, board shorts, wind-tangled hair. I wondered if California was cloning surfers.

  “This is too fucking much. We’re in trouble,” I said. “California is more than I expected.”

  Easy grunted agreement. He’d been beyond speech for the past hour. We found a ratty little beach motel outside of Oxnard, and Easy nearly passed out when they told us the room rate. Neither of us mentioned the dog. We walked down the streets of town, looking for a diner. Tino was riding in the bandana sling, its ends tied to the belt loops of Easy’s jeans. When he walked, the bandana swayed back and forth with the rhythm of his hips, Tino’s head poked out. It was almost more than I could stand. To look or not to look?

  We found an In-N-Out Burger and ate quickly, Tino pushed out of sight in the bandana. The green chili cheeseburger was okay, but I had a sudden yearning to split a Double XL and listen to John shoot the breeze. We went back to the motel, lay on separate beds, staring up at the ceiling. We were nearly to the end and suddenly the job that had seemed so simple and linear was almost too complicated to believe.

  “Maybe we better check in with your aunt. Let her know things are… not going so well. If we can’t find him on the beach, we need to start working our way through the homeless shelters.”

  He didn’t move but groaned from deep in his chest. “Homeless shelters. Fucking hell.” Tino was sitting on his belly, staring at his chin, Wheaties splint off to the side. He had tried to chew through the duct tape but hadn’t gotten very far. Easy groaned again, then lifted off the bed, pulled the laptop over. Then he shook his head. “Jamie, let me borrow your cell. Maybe I should talk to her in person.”

  The Tennessee in his voice got strong, talking to his aunt. He told her where we were and where we’d been. I heard her excited voice interrupt him; then he was wearing his stone face. “Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me? Really. Okay, well, that’s good news. Just a minute, Aunt Hilma. Let me get a pen.” I handed him the pad of paper and pen that was next to the phone. He wrote down a number. “And he’s at this number? He’s gonna answer when I call? Okay, then. I’ll get back to you.”

  Easy never looked up, just punched in the numbers. After a moment I could hear Austin’s excited squeak on the other end of the phone. “Easy? Easy! What you doing in California, man? Well, fuck me, if this ain’t a surprise.”

  Easy appeared to be trying to crush my cell. I reached out, took the phone from his fist. “Austin? This is James Lee. Captain Hooker.” That got another squeak. “Listen, can you tell me where you are? Exactly where you are. We’ll come get you. I know Easy wants to see you, and I do too.”

  I wrote down the address he gave me, somewhere in Surfrider Beach. “Austin, this is important. You stay there, okay? We’re coming now.”

  “I can’t believe it, Captain! Fuck me, you’re in California! You’ll recognize me ’cause my surfboard’s yellow. I still look the same, except my hair’s lon
ger.”

  “Got it. Yellow surfboard.”

  “He called home.” Easy was attaching the bandana sling to the belt loops of his jeans, breathing like he’d been running a marathon. “Months he’s been gone, me trailing him across the entirety of these fucking United States like a fool, and he calls home because it’s his mama’s birthday. I didn’t even remember it was Aunt Hilma’s birthday. I am gonna tear his fucking arms out of the sockets and beat him to death with the bloody stumps.”

  “That sounds good. That’s fine. Let’s just go get him now, okay? You can beat him to death when we get him in the truck.”

  The traffic was particularly hideous, just to give Easy more pain, but we got to the address Austin gave us about an hour later. I couldn’t find it on the street, but then Easy made a choking sound in his throat and pointed to the beach. Austin was sitting on a bench, his yellow surfboard propped up next to him. He was talking to a man who was running a little snow-cone cart.

  I looked back down at the address in my hand. “Is it the bench, or does the snow-cone cart have a physical address?”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” Easy said, starting off across the sand, Tino swinging wildly from the bandana at his waist. He was leaning in like there was a strong headwind.

  Austin jumped up, ran to his cousin, and threw his arms around him, laughing like a loon. He was talking so fast he didn’t notice Easy was about to reach out and snap his neck like a twig. His hair was a matted tangle nearly to his shoulders, sun-streaked and fairly sandy, the beard patchy and overgrown. He was deeply tan, with sunburn over the shoulders. He spotted me, waved madly. He reached out again, hugged Easy around the waist, and felt Tino wiggling around in the bandana. He pulled the little dog out, studied the splint on the leg. Then he popped Tino onto his shoulder and started toward me.

  Easy stared after him, fists clenched; then he put his hands up to his face and covered his eyes. I kept my eyes on him. He looked at me, nodded, and then he reached over and picked up the yellow surfboard and the tattered backpack next to it, followed Austin up the beach to where I waited.

  “Hey, this little dog lost his eye!” I got a one-armed hug. Tino smashed into my cheek. “Hey, Captain! What happened, he get blown up like me? No, wait, I bet it was a boomerang. It was a boomerang, right? They have those sharp edges.”

  “A boomerang. That’s exactly what it was.”

  “I knew it. Hey, your hair’s really long. Otherwise you look just the same!”

  I reached out again, wrapped my arms around him, and Easy hugged him from the other side, his eyes closed. Then Easy opened his eyes, took my hand, and we turned for a moment, studied the pretty beach, the blue water and setting sun. A long day coming to an end.

  Austin had been living on the beach, making some cash when he could get work by helping out with the snow-cone cart. The stoners were long gone, with his bike. He explained that they took it in exchange for the ride to California. Easy stayed somewhat calm until this point in the story. He ordered his cousin into the shower in our hotel room before we heard more. I gave him a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, because Austin was even smaller than I was. I suspected part-time snow-cone work did not provide enough for regular food and a yellow surfboard. Easy dug through our go bag, pulled out a set of barber scissors and a straight razor wrapped in a gray leather pack.

  “Is that entirely safe right now?”

  “I don’t really know,” he said, laying his scissors and combs out in a neat row. His voice was too calm. “I guess we’ll see.”

  I made an update in our mission log, checked the remaining funds, and went to the vending machine for a pack of crackers. “We can let him eat before you start in on him.”

  Easy whipped around, glared at me. “Why don’t you get him a banana?”

  “My bananas are saved for you, love of my life.”

  He did not appear impressed. By the time Austin came out of the bathroom, Easy was calm, whipped a towel around Austin’s neck like a matador calling a bull. He put a heavy hand on his cousin’s shoulder and moved him into a chair. “What we’re going to do is get you spruced up a bit. Then we’re going to take a picture of the two of us and send it to your mama for her birthday present. Got it?”

  “Sure, man!” He looked tired now, too thin and the edge of happiness in his voice a bit tattered. He looked at me, then dropped his eyes shyly. They were the same color as Easy’s, stormy blue-gray, but without the sharp smile, the wicked humor and smarts. Austin’s eyes just looked tired, maybe a little lost. “What are we gonna do then? Can I stay with you guys tonight?”

  Easy looked at me, something helpless in his face. “After your haircut and shave,” I said, “you eat some crackers. I can get you a burger if you’re hungry. You’ll stay here with us tonight and I’ll give you a full briefing in the morning, okay?”

  “Yes, sir! Oh, man, a burger would go down fine, like, a green chili cheeseburger.”

  “Austin, my friends call me Jamie.” He nodded, waiting. “You can call me Jamie.” That got us both a sweet smile, and then Easy went to work with the detangling comb.

  I looked them over, then slipped out of the room and walked to the In-N-Out to get the boy a burger. When I came back in the room, I heard Austin say, “Get out! I mean, I knew you were gay, but the captain too? Like, the whole time? I don’t remember that. Is it because of that ronin thing you were telling me about?”

  Easy yanked up on a hank of hair, jerked his head still. “Austin, there’s more. Captain Hooker and me, we’re gonna be getting married.”

  “No shit! Hey, are you gonna wear your uniforms? I could wear mine too.”

  “No. Absolutely not. James Lee will figure out the details. You can ask him.”

  I put the bag down on the dresser, sat on the end of the bed to watch the action. Austin was getting a flattop whether he wanted one or not. He didn’t look like he cared, just kept reaching out, patting Easy on the leg when his big cousin came into reach.

  “That is so fucking amazing, the two of you being in California the same time as me. It’s like… things have gotten a little off, I don’t know. Not what I expected. But you never know, right? What to expect? It’s just, wow. Here you are. Amazing.”

  “Yep. That’s what I think too, buddy,” Easy said, still busy with the clippers. “Three ronin and a dog, safe in a motel in Oxnard. It’s just amazing.”

  I felt something blooming around my heart, a flood of warmth and sunshine, like a lotus flower opening its petals. Amazing.

  AUSTIN WAS asleep, Tino curled up in the curve of his arm, his head pillowed in the V of a skinny elbow. I’d been up for a while and brought coffee and pastries from the hotel lobby. Easy followed me out of the room, and we settled on a bench outside the door. He stared moodily at the pastries but managed to eat one with three bites.

  I put another two pastries down on the bench between us. “I’m not enabling you except this one time,” I said. “It’s a special day. Hey, you notice Tino and Austin are sympatico? We might have made out there big-time.”

  “Seriously, I’m close to a nervous breakdown here. Did you see how thin he was?”

  “Well, that can be considered good news because we came here in a truck. We’re going back in a truck too, three ronin and a dog. I didn’t think about that until just this minute. I call shotgun.”

  “Would you please shut up?” Easy was in no mood for jokes. “It was fucking dumbass luck, James Lee. That kid could have disappeared and we’d never have been able to find him. I do not believe in depending on dumbass luck.”

  “Okay, I agree it was a bit more luck that we had any right to expect. Maybe we should have factored in that he’s a sweet kid and might call his mom on her birthday. Maybe he reached out because he was homesick and wanted some help. There are forces at work in the universe we don’t understand. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Three legs on the stool, remember? It’s done, he’s here, he’s with us, and he’s gonna stay. So let’s settle down, inges
t some sugar and caffeine. Today starts from right now, understand? Nothing else matters.”

  “How do you know he’ll stay? What if he gets a wild hair and packs up his surfboard again?”

  “Because I’m going to tell him to stay with us. We need him. He’s our best man and flower girl. I’m his captain.”

  “You’re going to give him an order. That’s very Zen of you, James Lee.”

  “Whatever works. You ordered him to get a haircut, then gave him a flattop without asking him what he wanted. Though he does seem happy that he looks like his big cousin again, all high and tight. It’s not an order. It’s a decision. What I’ve decided is he’s getting an order, and you’re getting a choice.”

  “What choice? Fuck it, I can’t take much more right now.”

  I pulled out the postcards we’d used on the trip. I’d marked each one with a city. Albuquerque, Winslow, Flagstaff, home in Tennessee, Phoenix, Ajo. I spread them out like a hand of cards. “Pick one.”

  “Me? I get to pick?” He looked at the cards, studied the names. “You’d come back with me to that Podunk town in Tennessee?”

  “Yes. If you want to pick someplace else, just do it. But from this point on, we go together. We find our place, and we plant a flag.”

  “Don’t you want to go back to your little house in Albuquerque?”

  “That was Tino’s house, not mine. I promised my grandma I’d take care of him.”

  “You stayed in Albuquerque for that little dog. God, you’re such a softie.”

  “It wasn’t like that.” I could feel the heat climbing my face. Easy hooted. “He doesn’t like change.” I waved the cards at him. “Just pick already.”

  He pulled a card out of the pack, no hesitation, handed it to me. He was smiling into my eyes, his own stormy with emotion. “Let’s do it.”

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