Mango Bob (12 page)

It would be two hours before I'd see him again.

I ate my salad while reviewing the route Jack had mapped on my Atlas. Arkansas to Louisiana to Mississippi to Alabama. Mostly back roads, with less than 100 miles of interstate.

Should be an easy drive.

After eating, I dropped the salad container along with the plastic spork into a Walmart shopping bag. Then closed all the curtains and rechecked to make sure the doors were locked.

It was still early, but I had a long day of driving ahead and wanted to get some rest. I set the alarm on my phone for six in the morning.

Bob was nowhere to be seen. Probably hiding under the bed or dinette. Keeping a low profile until he figured out where he was.

At least he wasn't singing or complaining and that was good enough for me.

Getting to sleep in the Walmart parking lot wasn't easy. The constant hum of traffic and car doors slamming shut, along with the beep of auto alarms kept me awake.

Then I remembered what Jack had said. Turn on the overhead fan to create white noise. The fan will drown out the background, and you'll get some sleep.

I followed his advice and was asleep in just a few minutes.

28

In the early morning, long before the sun was up, Mango Bob came alive.

Meeeow! Meeow! Meeow! Loud and angry.

Bob was complaining about something. Then silence. Then a few moments later, I heard Bob scratching in his litter box.

Apparently this was what Molly had mentioned. Bob liked to announce his intentions before he used the litter box.

He completed his task, and I didn't hear from him again.

My phone chimed me awake at 6:00am. Still dark outside. But I knew the sun would be up soon.

Pulling the curtains back, I could see the lights in Jack and Jean's motorhome were already on. Time for me to get up and get on the road.

For breakfast I had cereal. Kashi Crunch with white grape juice. Breakfast of champions.

Bob came out of hiding. Started sniffing around, trying to find his scent. Then he began telling me about his night.

Apparently he was a talker.

Me, I didn't have much to say. Was happy to see that Bob had survived the night.

I cleaned up my breakfast mess. Went through my pre-road checklist.

Closed all cabinets and drawers. Made sure the doors were still locked. Opened the curtains on the front windows. Kept the blinds in the back bedroom drawn for Bob.

Checked to make sure his litter box was still secure. Moved his water and food bowls up against the bathroom vanity to keep them from moving too much.

Ready to go.

By this time, Jack and Jean had already departed.

Me next.

Started the coach and let it warm up for a few minutes. Checked my mirrors, and eased out of the Walmart parking lot. Headed for the interstate on-ramp.

Finally on the road.

The interstate wasn't crowded this early in the morning. Traffic was light. This was good, as it would give me a chance to get used to driving the motorhome on the highway.

Surprisingly, the coach handled well. Not much different than a large truck.

The few cars on the road were running seventy five miles an hour and faster. My instinct from years of driving was to try to keep up.

But that's not a good idea in a motorhome. Instead, I followed Jack's recommendation. Keep it under sixty five, and you won't have problems.

It took me about an hour to get from Conway to the other side of Little Rock. Then another ninety minutes to get to Pine Bluff where I left the interstate behind.

For the next one hundred forty miles it would be rural roads with a maximum speed limit of sixty five.

Easy driving, not too much traffic. Just me, the motorhome and Bob the cat.

When I got to Lake Village, Arkansas, the last 'big' town before heading into Louisiana, I pulled into an empty parking lot. The sign above a vacant store read Piggly Wiggly.

I'd been driving for almost four hours, making good time. No need to kill myself by spending too many hours behind the wheel without a break. I needed to get out. Stretch a bit.

I located Bob. He was in the back, asleep on the bed. He didn't acknowledge me.

Good. I might be able to get out the door, take a walk and get back in without worrying about him escaping.

I snuck out the coach side door. Locked it behind me. Walked around the coach to make sure all was good.

We'd picked up some road grime, a few bugs on the front, but other than that it looked good. Made me proud to know it was mine.

Checked the parking lot and decided a brisk walk around the perimeter would get me ready for the next five hours of driving.

After ten minutes of walking, I headed back to the coach, and noticed a few cars now parked in the lot.

Maybe one of the vacant storefronts was used for something after all.

It didn't matter to me. I was ready to hit the road again.

I went back to the coach, unlocked the door and opened it. Bob was there and jumped out the door the moment he saw daylight.

I tried to grab him, but he was too fast for me. He was gone.

This was bad. Real bad.

I looked around and didn't see Bob anywhere. My guess is he wouldn't run toward the road – too much noise and too many cars.

Maybe he was under one of the cars parked nearby.

I started checking and found him under an old Buick Electra.

He was breathing heavily, obviously upset.

I got down on my hands and knees and tried to reach him. He growled and spit at me.

I knew I had to get him, so I belly crawled toward him, but he just backed up.

“What you doing mister?”

A voice behind me.

“Hey mister, what you doing under my mother's car?”

I didn't answer.

“Hey mister, if my brother finds you under my mother's car, he'll shoot you!”

That got my attention. I wriggled back out from under the car.

Standing behind me was a young black boy – probably about twelve years old. He was wearing long black pants, a white shirt, and a tie.

He pointed again at the car.

“What you doing under my mother's car?”

I sighed heavily. “My cat escaped. Ran up under the car. I'm trying to get him back.”

“You're not going to get him that way. Cat's don't like it when you grab for them.”

Smart kid.

“Yeah, I'm finding that out. But I've got to get this cat back. He belongs to a friend.”

“I can do it for you. If you pay me a dollar.”

“Kid, if you can get that cat back in the motorhome, I'll pay you ten dollars.”

“OK, it's a deal. Just do what I say.”

The kid asked, "Which car is yours?"

I pointed to the motorhome.

“Nice. Go over and open the side door and leave it open.”

“Then come over here and stand on the other side of my momma's car.

"Now lay down so you block the path between the front and rear wheels.

You ready?"

I was.

The kid shouted, "Cover your ears!”

At that point, he reached in and pressed the horn on the Buick. It sounded like a freight train coming down the road.

It worked. Bob immediately ran toward the motorhome, jumped up the steps and disappeared inside.

The kid walked over and closed the door.

“OK. The job is done. Pay up.”

I was amazed. And quite happy.

I was pulling money from my wallet when a group of adults came out of the nearest storefront.

“What's going on here? Who are you and what are you doing with my Grandson?”

It was an elderly black lady.

“Ma'am, this young man just saved my cat. I promised him a reward, and I'm paying him.”

“Your cat? What's this all about?”

“It's alright Grandma. This man's cat escaped and I helped him get it back.”

I nodded in agreement.

She looked at me, “What's your name?”

“Walker.”

“Well Mr. Walker, looks like my Grandson did you a favor.”

She looked toward the motorhome, “You traveling alone?”

“Yes ma'am, I am. Headed to Mobile tonight. And on to Florida tomorrow.”

“You any kind of criminal? Running from the law or anything?”

“No ma'am. Not a criminal. Not running from the law. Just trying to deliver a cat to a friend in Florida.”

“You got a bathroom and bed in that motorhome? And you traveling alone?”

“Yes ma'am.”

She looked behind her, then back to me.

“Son, my family is gathered here today to see me off on a trip to Lucedale Mississippi. We're waiting for the Trailways Bus.”

“It's a long trip for an old gal like me. Sitting in the cramped bus with all those strangers. And the bus stopping in all the small towns along the way.”

“It'll take 12 hour on the bus. Sitting in those hard plastic seats.

"Wonder how long it'll take you in that motorhome?”

“Ma'am, I'm not sure where Lucedale is, but I hope to be in Mobile before dark. And to do that, I need to get back on the road.”

“Sonny, how about this? Since my Grandson did you a favor by recovering your cat, maybe you'd return the favor by letting me hitch a ride to Lucedale. It's right on your way, and I won't be any trouble.

“Riding in that motorhome would be a lot easier on my poor worn out back than riding in a Trailways bus. I wouldn't be any bother.”

Her family was gathered around her, and one of them spoke up.

“Grandma, you don't know this guy. For all you know he might be an axe murderer. You can't just get in and ride off with him.”

“Mister, are you an axe murderer?”

“No ma'am I'm not. But I need to get going pretty soon if I'm going to make Mobile by dark.”

“Good, it's settled then. Get my poke, and lets get on the road.”

“By the way, we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Maybelle Tyler. Your name?"

She offered her hand.

"John Walker. But most people just call me Walker." I shook her hand.

"Well Mister Walker, good to meet you. Jesus must have heard my prayers last night. I sure didn't want to ride in no bus for twelve hours."

Maybelle went around and hugged each of the people standing behind her.

As she was doing this, one of the men walked over and introduced himself. “Earle Tyler. That woman's my mother.

“She's bull-headed, but we all love her. We don't want to see nothing bad happen to her. You understand?”

I nodded. “Earle, I'll take care of her. Give me your cell number and I'll call you when we get to Lucedale.”

We exchanged phone numbers.

He repeated his warning, “Don't let nothing bad happen to her.”

“Earle, leave Mr. Walker alone. I'm able to take care of myself. And I'm ready to go.”

Maybelle and I got into the coach. I heard Bob growl from behind the couch. That meant he was on board and ready to go.

Maybelle settled into the passenger seat, and I helped her get her seat belt on. I belted myself in, and we pulled out of the parking lot, with her family waving as we left.

29

As soon as we got on the road, Maybelle said, “I love those children, but I'm happy to be heading back home. Just too busy with all those folks around.”

“How about you Mr. Walker? Any children.”

“No ma'am. Just me. And the cat.”

“Well, one of these days you'll find the right woman and ya'll have plenty of kids.”

Maybelle stretched her legs out. “You know Walker, this seat is a lot more comfortable than those on the bus. And it smells better in here too.”

Over the next one hundred miles, Maybelle kept me entertained with stories about her family and the places we passed through. Turns out she had quite an interesting past and knew many colorful characters.

Time and the road passed quickly.

As we approached the interstate coming out of Tallulah, Maybelle asked, “You got a bathroom in this thing?”

“Yes ma'am. In the back. You want me to pull over, so you can use it?”

“That'd be nice. And after that, you mind if I rest a bit on that bed back there?”

“I wouldn't mind a bit. ”

I pulled over into a parking lot, and MayBelle got up and went to the back. She took a few minutes to get arranged, then from the bedroom she said, “All done. Ready to roll.”

Out of Tallulah, we got onto I-20 which took us through Vicksburg toward Jackson. The roller coaster road Jack had warned me about.