333 Miles (8 page)

Fifteen minutes later, still with no outs on
the board, the Mets coach put Mike on the hill to pitch. Mike had
only thrown three innings the whole year, but he had a good arm and
was as anxious as anyone to get this game moving. He struck out the
first batter on three pitches, the second on four pitches and got
the third to pop up to first base. The inning was over, and no runs
had scored.

Because of all the commotion earlier in the
day, when Mike breezed through the fourth inning, no one had quite
realized yet that the Mets had a no-hitter going. By the sixth (the
last inning in little league), however, with the Mets up 4-0,
everyone was very aware of it. Mike got the leadoff hitter to
ground out to third and then struck out the second hitter on a
curveball that was just as sharp as it was in the first inning. The
only thing standing between Mike and Scripps Ranch Little League
history was Bobby DelFavro who entered the day hitting .421
according to Schtupp’s stats. Mike started him off with a fastball
down in the zone that DefFavro took for a strike. The second pitch
was a curveball that DefFavro hit well, but he was out in front of
it and pulled it foul. Mike nervously took the sign, realizing he
was just one pitch away.

He looked into the catcher for the sign and
then scratched his balls and spit as he had seen the pros do. He
delivered a fastball that was supposed to be outside, but it went
right down the middle of the plate. DelFavro hit it well and drove
it deep into right field. Mike’s heart sank as he saw Willy Chen
turn his back to the field and start running toward the fence.
Willy’s defense was equally as futile as his hitting. The ball
began to descend near the warning track and Willy had still not
turned his head back toward the infield. Mike was sure the ball was
going to actually hit Willy in the head. But at the last minute his
neck rotated about half way back toward the infield and his gloved
left hand stretched out from his body. Only a full two seconds
after the ball settled into Willy’s glove did the crowd erupt into
cheers and Mike started jumping up and down on the mound before
running to hug the catcher.

Mike would go on to have a mediocre high
school baseball career, but his all-time highlight was pitching a
no-hitter on Schtupp Field that Saturday.

Chapter Ten

In N’ Out

5:36 p.m.

“
Well, if you like burgers give 'em a try
sometime. I can't usually get 'em myself because my girlfriend's a
vegetarian which pretty much makes me a vegetarian. But I do love
the taste of a good burger.”

– Jules,
Pulp Fiction

The BMW was hurtling up Highway 15 northbound
somewhere northeast of Los Angeles at about eighty-three miles per
hour. On the right side of the road was a sign alerting drivers
that the exit for Highway 40 to Needles was approaching. Inside the
car Roger was asleep again and the other three guys were conducting
meaningless conversation. Snoop Dogg’s
Gin n’ Juice
played
lightly in the background.

Gary: “Did you guys know Snoopy’s cousin
lives in Needles?”

Alex: “Snoop Dogg?”

Gary: “No. Who gives shit where Snoop Dogg’s
cousin lives? I am talking about Snoopy the dog from Charlie
Brown.”

Alex: “No, sorry, I didn’t realize Snoopy the
dog had a cousin in Needles.”

Mike: “Fucking fascinating.”

Gary: “Hey man, Snoopy kicks ass.”

Mike: “I guess so. Is anyone else getting
hungry?”

Alex: “Yeah, a bit. What do you guys
want?”

Gary: “Taco Bell would be good.”

Mike: “How about McDonalds?”

Alex: “No, I’ll do anywhere but
McDonalds.”

Mike: “Panda Express?”

Alex: “Nah, no Panda either. I don’t trust
those fuckers.”

Mike: “Who?”

Alex: “You know. Them.”

Mike: “Them, meaning Asians?”

Alex: “Sure. Whatever.”

Mike: “You eat sushi all the time.”

Alex: “Let’s just find something other than
Panda.”

Gary: “J-Box?”

Alex: “No, can’t do that either. Had it for
lunch. I think if we can hold out for another fifteen minutes there
is an In-N-Out in Rancho Cucamonga.”

Gary: “Good call. Anyway, any trip is more
complete if it includes a stop in Rancho Cucamonga.”

Mike: “Yeah, definitely In-N-Out.”

Roger was also inspired: “Fuckin’ A,” he
chimed in from the back seat, apparently less asleep than he
appeared.

Seventeen miles later, Alex pulled into the
right lane and pulled off onto Foothill Boulevard, Rancho
Cucamonga. Immediately on the right, in the parking lot of a
nondescript strip-mall, a relatively modern-looking stand-alone
In-N-Out Burger beckoned. There was an open parking spot right by
the front door and Alex eased into it. Roger seized the opportunity
to rip a loud fart just as the car came to a stop.

Alex was not amused: “Dude, fucking prick.
You couldn’t wait another ten seconds?”

Roger was clearly pleased with himself: “I
just thought you guys would want a little appetizer.”

All four doors opened and three of the guys
rapidly exited the car. Alex reached toward the sky and
simultaneously got up on his tippy-toes trying to stretch out from
the first part of the drive. Gary had to pee and broke into a slow
jog, entered the restaurant and immediately turned right once
inside the doors. Though he had not been there for a few years, his
brain recalled a detailed knowledge of the layout of this
particular In-N-Out.

The other three slowly walked toward the
front door, happy to be out of the car, and looking forward to
eating. There were only four people in line for food. By the time
Gary rejoined them, Alex had reached the register. Somewhere
between the car and the entrance, Alex had swapped his Ray Bans for
wrap-around silver Elvis sunglasses which he donned inside the
restaurant.

Much to his delight, the girl working the
register was extremely attractive. She looked to be about
twenty-four, with long brown hair, large breasts that snuggled
perfectly inside her white In-N-Out crested blouse, and beautiful
big brown eyes that sparkled as if they possessed their own energy
source. She looked like a fairy tale character that had been
accidentally transported into a fast food restaurant. With a
perfect smile, she asked, for the two hundred and fourteenth time
that day, “Welcome to In-N-Out. What can I help you with
today?”

Alex resisted the urge to reply with his
first instinct, instead scanning the menu and then looking down at
the girl’s chest to read her nametag. Tara, it said. She was
wearing the In-N-Out uniform, but not the paper hat that the rest
of the crew had. He also noticed that she smelled nice, similar to
the standard vanilla-strawberry stripper scent, only more elegant.
Curiously, it blended well with the omnipresent cow meat and fried
potato aroma permeating the establishment.

Alex: “Hi Tara. Today, I would like a
double-double with no mayo, mustard, ketchup or sauce of any kind.
And also fries and a large Diet Coke.”

Tara informed him the cost would be $6.15.
Alex pulled his wallet from the front pocket of his sweat pants and
opened it up. After rifling through a stack of bills and unable to
find something small, he peeled off a hundred dollar bill and
handed it too her.

She checked it for authenticity, then counted
out his change and handed him a receipt. “Here you go, you are
number twenty-nine. Your order will be out in about fifteen
minutes,” she informed him.

Alex was puzzled. “Fifteen minutes, what’s
the deal with that?” he asked, though his tone was more flirty than
truly annoyed.

“We don’t make it until you order it sir,”
Tara replied.

Alex looked back up at the menu, trying to
see if he missed something the first time. Nothing had changed. The
only items were the three burger choices, fries and a selection of
beverages. He looked back at Tara and removed the Elvis glasses.
“Did I catch you guys off-guard by ordering a burger?” he
asked.

Tara was not used to getting attitude from
the customers and was annoyed. “I am sorry sir, please just wait
for your order,” she requested while giving him another smile, fake
this time.

“As you wish,” Alex said, stepping aside.

Mike was next at the counter, “Sorry about
Elvis Timberlake. We picked him up hitchhiking back in Poway. I
really don’t know him,” he said.

Tara laughed, this time legitimately. “That’s
okay, don’t worry about it. What can I get you?” she asked.

“Double-double, no sauce, fries and a large
Diet Coke, please,” he replied.

Tara laughed at this also. “Okay, that’s
gonna be $6.15 and about fifteen minutes.” Mike gave her a five, a
one, and a quarter. She gave him back a dime and a receipt, and
looked directly into his eyes. “Here you go. You are number thirty.
I hope you enjoy it,” she said as her head tilted slightly to the
right.

The food actually took only twelve minutes.
The group had selected a booth by the window where they could see
the car. They simultaneously began unwrapping their burgers. Alex
quickly scanned the restaurant to see if there may be any other hot
chicks inside, but there were not. He instinctively glanced at Tara
before taking a bite of his burger.

Meanwhile, Roger was inspecting Gary’s order.
“G-Balls, what’s the deal? A single burger and no fries? Are you on
a diet?” he asked.

Gary: “Yeah, I guess. Blair and I are both
working out and trying to lose some weight.”

Alex: “I always thought the reason to get
married is so you can let yourself go and don’t have to worry about
being fat anymore.”

Gary: “Well, believe it or not, you still
won’t want to be fat. Plus, if you get fat, that pretty much gives
her a free pass to get fat also, and you really don’t want
that.”

Roger: “That makes sense, but you don’t look
fat.”

Gary: “Thanks, but I’m not so sure. The other
day I was at Macy’s buying some clothes and I was in the dressing
room. They’ve got like six mirrors in there. So there I am in
nothing but my boxers looking at myself from six different angles.
It was not a pretty picture.”

Mike: “Ah, Macy’s syndrome. Typical.”

They sat quietly for a moment pondering this.
Then each took a bite of their burgers.

Mike broke the silence: “You didn’t have to
be a dick to the girl working the register.”

Alex: “Me? Was I?”

Mike: “Yeah, you were.”

Alex: “Oh. Sorry. Well I love this place, but
I don’t know why it is such a shock when someone orders a
burger.”

Mike: “It isn’t her fault.”

Gary: “Aw, how cute. Somebody has a crush on
the In-N-Out chick.”

Mike: “I don’t have a crush. I am just saying
there is no reason to be rude.”

Alex: “Okay, I am sorry if I was insulting.
She was pretty hot actually. You should go ask for her number. She
seemed to like you.”

Mike: “Totally. That will work out great for
the next time I am in the middle of the fucking desert.”

Alex: “Well, whatever then, let’s finish
these and get back on the road.”

Mike: “Shotgun.”

Gary: “Dude, you can’t call shotgun before we
are headed toward the car. Everyone knows that.”

Alex: “He’s right.”

Roger: “Yep.”

Mike: “Whatever. Jesus. Fuckers.”

Interlude Five

Alex (10)

Midway through fourth grade, Alex’s family
moved from New Mexico to Seattle. Usually, Alex despised moving,
but he never much liked New Mexico and immediately felt more
comfortable in the lush green surroundings of Washington. He liked
the new school as well. The only immediate obstacle was that the
social dynamics were radically different. Most importantly, boys
and girls at this school were paired up together and were
considered to be “going out,” whereas in Albuquerque girls were
generally to be ignored and actual physical contact with one was
cause for embarrassment and ridicule.

Alex’s dilemma was not with the principle of
the idea, since he liked being around girls. However, all of the
ones cute enough for him to consider socially acceptable were
already taken upon his transfer. Alex was still unaware that the
average fourth grade relationship lasts somewhere around three
weeks and a bit of patience would go a long way. Instead, he
settled into a courtship with the most attractive remaining choice,
Tiffany Monrose. Tiffany was very shy and their relationship was
for appearances only, something like a high society Manhattan
marriage without the charity balls, affairs and cocaine habits.
Instead, their interaction consisted of passing a note back and
forth in class once or twice a day. The notes typically discussed
classroom gossip or debated who was better, Duran Duran or
Prince.

Due to his lack of enthusiasm for Tiffany,
Alex was easy prey to succumb to a scheme devised by Peter Dunn,
who was probably the most popular kid in the class. One Friday
during the lunch recess, Peter and a few of the other boys
convinced Alex that he should approach Jessica Kempinski and tell
her he would like to go out with her instead of Tiffany. Jessica
was a bit fat and tended to smell like stale bacon, the fault of
living in her parent’s house which reeked of various cooked
meats.

On Monday, after Jessica would proudly
announce her new boyfriend to the other kids, Alex would announce
that he was actually going out with Julie Simpson, who Peter had
arranged would break up with her current boyfriend Jimmy Everth.
Alex would further declare that his conversation with Jessica was
actually a friendly act in which he helped her to pair up with
Billy Massey, a spectacled kid with a strange fascination for
frogs, whom no girl wanted anything to do with. The plan was
cruelly genius in its ability to humiliate Jessica, Tiffany, Jimmy
and Billy all at once. Also, it was entirely plausible because many
couples began official courtship through a third-party
intermediary.