HOPE FOR CHANGE... But Settle for a Bailout (6 page)

“Sky’s the limit, huh?” said December. “So,
what are we going to do next? Steal a plane?”

Lori dialed 90.7 on the radio and two
Spanish-speaking DJs cut to music from Colombia.

“Who’s dat?” said December, only slightly
less catty.

“KPFK,” said Lori, blankly.

“We’re not stealing,” said Larry, and
December quickly returned to him. “We’re driving up to pick up a
big pile of money I got coming.”

“Pile, huh?” said December. “What? D’j’ou
win the lottery, or something?”

Larry said nothing. December quickly turned
to Lori, who stared straight ahead. Looking to Larry, December said
she would need his help at the hotel, because she had to do her
regularly-scheduled show. He could be the cameraman. It’d be fun,
she assured him. But Miss-Got-the-Keys couldn’t be there. Strictly
business.

“Like I said, Larry,” said Lori, not
breaking her concentration on the road. “Like I....”

“I am not trash, white girl,” spat December.
“You think I don’t have ears?”

“Trash,” said Lori.

“How come when people say ‘trash,’ it’s
white people they’re talking about?” said December. “What are you,
driver girl?”

“I’m in management,” said Lori, never
shifting her gaze from the roadway.

“Yeh, right,” said December. “Ripped
tee-shirt and clothes in a bag, driving some stolen car.”

“Leave her alone!” said Larry. “It’s not
stolen.”

December slid a bit lower in her seat and,
put on coo-ey eyes when she spoke to Larry. “Like I told you,
hunny. She ain’t gonna be nothing to you after this.”

.

Lori pulled into the Mobil station in Gorman
where unleaded 87 stood solidly 6O cents a gallon more than in
Harbor City. “Wonder if this one has a clean bathroom?” said Lori,
getting out. Looking to Larry, she said the tank was half full but
it couldn’t hurt to top off.

She pocketed the keys and went in to the
station’s Food Store.

Larry flipped up the driver’s seat, opened
the door and worked his way out of the car. He unzipped and
unsnapped his wallet, and fingered between the carefully-folded
lottery tickets and a slip of winning numbers to pull out his VISA
card. He slid the card at the pump and entered his ZIP code and
began pumping fuel.

December got out and joined Larry. “Hunny,
you need someone young and pretty,” said December, leaning against
the car. “Not someone old, like her.”

“We go back,” said Larry, as he replaced the
nozzle. “We got history.”

“Dat’s what I mean,” said December. “Old.”
December turned and walked away, towards the food store. Lori
crossed the lot to the line of pumps and, as she did, December
veered in her course so as to not come within talking distance as
they crossed paths. When Lori got to the car, Larry was watching
December walking off.

“Do we really have to bring her?” said Lori.
“We’re still less than a hundred miles. We could turn around and
then head back up after dumping her.”

Larry opened the driver’s door, pushed the
seat forward and climbed into the back, turning his upper body so
he could fit up against the rear seat when the front seat was
pushed back into place. Lori got in. They waited in silence for
Miss Milkshakes, who came out several minutes later, a tall
beverage in one hand and a bag in her arms. Lori snorted.

December handed the beverage into the
passenger’s window and when Lori made no effort to reach for it,
Larry shifted his body such that he could slide close enough to
grab the cup. December got in, and only when strapped in and after
choosing a bag of corn chips did she reach for her cup. Larry
re-adjusted, re-slid and re-wedged himself into place. Lori made
her way back onto the Five North.

.

“I can only imagine the sort of show you put
on in a hotel room” said Lori, clearly aiming the comment to
December, but not turning her head. “Let me guess: you’re in the
entertainment business?”

December puckered to sip from her straw and
looked at Larry. “I keep fans entertained.” She took another sip of
her drink. “I take care of myself, old lady.”

“I don’t have to do porn,” spat back
Lori.

“No one would buy it if you did,” said
December, with a chuckle. “And I don’t do porn, driver-girl.”
December looked toward Larry, almost tenderly. “I make people
happy. And I don’t hurt anyone, or steal anything.”

“This car isn’t stolen,” yelled Lori.

“Then how come it’s registered to some man
in Hermosa Beach, huh?” said December. “Like I don’t know how to
open a glove compartment. You think I’m stupid?” December aimed her
corn chip bag towards Larry, who reached in for a handful.

“My District Manager loaned me this car
during my vacation,” said Lori, an air of nervousness in her voice.
December leapt at it.

“Who borrows someone’s car on vacation?”
said December. “I thought you were Miss Manager? Can’t you afford
to rent one or are you just a manager who doesn’t get paid more
then anyone else, but has to work twice as bard?” December took a
long sip, puckering hard and releasing the straw with a pop.

Alongside the convertible, a California
Highway Patrol cruiser kept pace with Lori. She glanced several
times to the left. The cruiser sped up and weaved through
traffic.

“Should I just wave my arms for him to come
back?” said December, nodding with her chin towards the CHP cruiser
now several truck lengths ahead.

“Why?” said Lori. “So... so they can get you
for indecent exposure?”

“My exposure is more than decent, as your
man will find out when he’s holding the camera during our little
show,” said December, looking straight to Larry.

“Stop, please,” said Larry. Both women said
nothing more. After a few seconds, Larry repeated, “No, I mean,
stop... please... pull over.” Lori signaled, taking the convertible
across two lanes before stopping on the shoulder. December quickly
opened the door, jumped out and flipped the seat forward. Larry
struggled to make it out, retching as soon as he was outside.

“Poor bracito,” cooed December, her hand on
his back. “Must be her cooking.”

.

U.S. Interstate Five is a study in the
lesson that the shortest distance between two points is a straight
line. The Five cuts through California’s great central valley, like
a chalk line from the Tehachapi Mountains which separate Los
Angeles from Bakersfield and, beyond that, to Sacramento and, if
one were to just keep going, into Oregon and Washington. Reduced
swiftly to two lanes in each direction after descending from the
Grapevine – the pass that traverses the mountains – the Five lures
every driver to find out how fast their vehicle can move. Like Las
Vegas, where abundant light wipes out all sense of time, the
blackness of night driving on the Five leaves one unsure of time or
distance.

“Where’s Harris Ranch?” asked Lori, as she
drove past a marker citing the number of miles to Sacramento,

“Coalinga,” said Larry, sifting his way
through the outstretched bag of assorted snacks that December held
for him. “We’ll smell it before we see it.” He pulled a bag of
trail mix from the sack. “Getting to appreciate this stuff,” he
said, using his teeth to open the bag.

“Is Harris Ranch close to Sac? Far from
Sac?”

“I don’t remember,” said Larry, as he picked
through the trail mix, pulling out the M&Ms and raisins. “Just
that we can see it from the Five.”

“I know,” said December, quietly.

.

December leaned her seat back to where it
almost touched Larry’s legs, stretched across the back seat. “So
what’s this history you have with driver-girl?”

“Been best friends since high school,” said
Larry, who watched Lori’s head above the seat.

“You act more like married people,” said
December, “except you still obviously have a thing for her, and
married people never do when they’re old like you, so you must be
telling the truth.”

“He doesn’t have a thing for me,” said Lori.
“That’s just how he is after he’s carsick.”

December laughed.

“So what are you?” asked Lori. “A webcam
girl? Or sex tapes? Or....”

“Naw,” said December, “I don’t do sex
movies. Just pix and vids of me and my milkshakes.”

“Classy”

“No,” said December, quickly. “It is classy.
I tell them, the producers, no sleazy stuff... just keep the fans
happy with the F-cups.”

“The whats?” said Lori.

“Double F,” corrected Larry.

“I’m 32-double-F,” said December. “God gave
me this. It’s His gift for me. Some people are smart, some people
are strong, and some people are good looking... everybody’s got a
gift. It doesn’t mean you’re better, but you go with what you got.
I mean, what’s your gift?”

Lori didn’t answer.

“I’m not dissing you,” said December. “I
mean, like, what do you bring?”

“I don’t know,” said Lori.

“You’re even headed,” said Larry. “You never
lose it. You hold it together. Even when you and Lawrence were on
the ropes, you never raised your voice.”

“How come you said Lawrence here, but you
never called him Lawrence to his face? That used to drive him nuts,
you calling him Larry.”

“Cuz I knew it got under his skin.”

“Even... well, dat’s something,” said
December. “Good in a getaway person, I guess.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Lori.

“If you ever leave management,” said
December, who turned to Larry. “How about you, hunny? What’chu
got?”

“I don’t give up,” said Larry.

“Gag,” said Lori. “C’mon, Larry.”

“I don’t give in.”

“Dat’s not what I mean,” said December. “I
mean, like, okay, my milkshakes won’t always keep the boys coming
around... but they sure do now, so I figure, they’re real, they’re
mine, no one’s forcing me... so I use what I was given. And if
you’ve looked around... hello! It’s pretty tough out there,
especially for a Dreamer, so if I can use what God gave me and I’m
not hurting anyone and I make people happy, then what’s so bad
about that? Dat’s what I mean.”

Turning to Lori, December went on. “You’re
in some guy’s car. What did you do that got him to say yes? I don’t
think borrowing a convertible is in the employee manual.”

“We stuffed Cheetos up his nose til he said
yes,” said Larry, matter of factly.

“Okay, you’re funny, we got your gift
figured out,” said December, turning to Lori. “I mean, you’re
tall... you’re thin... bet you don’t have to work hard to stay
thin. That’s something.”

“Well, I don’t eat shit,” said Lori. “And I
swim everyday.”

“Oh, c’mon,” said Larry. “You don’t starve
yourself.”

“I mean I don’t eat crap. What is everyone
pouring in to themselves? Sugar, salt and fat.” In the moments
after she spoke, the car was filled with the sounds of two people
munching on chips.

“Okay,” said December. “So, tall, thin,
natural. Doesn’t make you better, but those’re gifts. You know how
many girls wanna be thin? And every girl lies and says she’s an
inch taller then she really is.”

“Everyone around me thought they were
better,” said Larry. “My dad, the people in my neighborhood.
Everyone, except my Grandma.”

“I love your grandmother,” Lori said,
absently. “Wish I understood what she was saying.”

“No you don’t,” said Larry. “The sarcasm is
okay cuz it’s funny, but she is always afraid that something
terrible will happen. When I told her at dinner about the gun
people, it scared the shit out of her.”

“What do you mean, gun people?” asked
December. “People with guns are chasing you? I don’t do guns.”

“No,” said Larry. “Some people came in to
her business....”

“Open carry people,” said Lori.

“Open what?”

“They carry their guns around,” said
Lori.

“Dat’s legal?”

“If they’re unloaded and you can see them,
yeh, I guess,” said Larry.

“And they’re after you? I’m serious,” said
December. “I don’t do guns. My ex used to wave his around. You can
just take me back.”

“No,” said Lori. “I don’t do guns either. I
grew up, guns all around. I’m sick of guns. Went into the army to
get away from the insane shooters in my neighborhood.”

“She chased out a bunch of open-carry people
from her business.”

“Brave. Or crazy. At least one of those is a
gift,” said December. “So who is this Lawrence guy?”

“Bankerman?” said Larry.

Lori stared straight ahead. “We all went to
school together,” she said, flatly. “He’s ancient history.”

“Actually, you’ll meet him on Monday,” said
Larry.

“W-h-a-t-!” said Lori.

“I need someone I can trust on the whole
money thing,” said Larry, defensively.

“Aw, man,” said Lori. “I thought I was done
with him with the divorce.”

“It’s okay,” said December, soothingly. “He
won’t pay any attention to you with me around.”

.

“Stop dere,” said December. “I’m hungry.
Let’s eat.”

“We have a choice,” said Lori, pulling off
the freeway. “Denny’s, or what’s that over there....”

Larry and December both chimed in for
Denny’s. Lori slowed as cars and trucks weaved onto and off the
road connecting the freeway to gas stations and fast food joints.
She let out a deep sigh after parking and switching the engine
off.

“C’mon, hunny,” said December, after exiting
the car and flipping up the seat. She held out her hand to help
Larry uncork himself.

“Oh, puh-leeze,” said Lori, under her
breath.

As they waited for a table, Lori stood at a
distance and occasionally glanced at December, looking her over.
Larry and December spent their time talking and laughing together,
his eyes staying largely on hers. The two were each smiling easily
when the hostess showed them to a table. All three asked for
coffee. December hummed softly as she looked over the menu. Larry
flipped through the dessert display with seriousness as Lori
excused herself and walked to the restroom.