Crazy Little Thing (11 page)

Jailhouse Rock II

The police station looked like the third ring of a
Shriner’s Circus. Everyone was yelling at once. Ollie, Claire, G-Ray and the
Patrolman were all telling their side of the story to Sheriff Sam Hill. Even EZ
was awake and putting in her two cents worth.

Sheriff Sam Hill looked like Jackie Gleason in that
movie
Smokey and the Bandit.
He chomped on the wet end of an unlit cigar
with his boots on his desk, peeking over the mountain of his belly. He looked
stupid, but Claire knew that was a disguise. Behind that stupid good ol’ boy
personae lurked the personality of a honey badger.

The patrolman had wasted no time in rounding them
all up into his car and bringing them to the police station. Claire had seen
Sheriff Sam Hill look them up and down and she could almost hear the cash
register in his head dinging as he totaled up how much money they were worth.
His squinty peppercorn eyes looked her up and down and she shivered under their
cold gaze.

EZ was tottering around in circle, shouting to
everybody and anybody, “I don’t remember anything after the Bananarama concert.
Until I woke up with G-Ray on my lap. I was headed down the road at an ungodly
speed. I was looking death in the face. Or maybe that was G-Ray’s face. None of
this was my fault. You must believe me. I don’t belong in jail.”

G-Ray was adding to the confusion by shouting his
story. “I was on top of the van and my tocks were talking to me. They get all
tingly feeling like how your arm or leg feels when it falls asleep except this
is more like my tocks are waking up. And that always means something bad is
about to happen. I looked up to the sky expecting to be beamed up by aliens any
second but instead the van starts moving and I grab onto the luggage rack.  And
then the van stops moving and then I’m flying! Flying, Dood, flying! I tumbled
into EZ’s lap and we rocketed down the road. It was like I was Superman, but
without the leotards and cape.”

Ollie is trying to be heard over the ruckus. “We
didn’t break any laws. None! I never even broke the speed limit. Is there a law
that says you can’t drive a wheelchair down a state highway? Well, okay, there
probably is. But is there a law that says you have to drive your car forwards,
and not backwards? Well, okay, there probably is. But you can’t lock us up! I
want a lawyer. Any lawyer but Scarlet. I’ll take a public defender. Get me a
public defender. I have rights!” Oscar wiggled around in her backpack. She
shoved the pack behind her. They could take her but they couldn’t take her dog.

Everyone shushed the moment Claire handed her now
scuffed and dirty phone across the desk to Sheriff Sam Hill, saying, “Our
lawyer would like a word with you.”

Silence blanketed the group as Sheriff Sam Hill held
Claire’s smart phone to his ear. “Sheriff Hill, here.” Scarlet’s tinny voice
squawked on the other end of the phone connection. Sheriff Sam Hill listened
intently.

“No,” he said.

He listened some more.

“No,” he said.

He listened more.

“No,” he said.

He listened even more.

“Warmer,” he said.

He listened some more.

“Done,” he said, handing the phone back to Claire.
He looked at the patrolman and ordered, “Get these bozos out of here. Drive ‘em
back to where you found them.” He looked at Claire. “Get back into that clown
van of yours and get out of my town. I don’t want to see hide nor hair of you
after the sun sets. Got it?”

Claire nodded. Ollie, G-Ray and EZ all high-fived
each other and group-hugged. Claire tugged Ollie’s arm and headed for the door,
saying, “Let’s get out of here.”

Once back on the street, Ollie said, “How’d Scarlet
get us out of this one?”

Claire said, “I have a feeling Scarlet is the proud
owner of two hundred tickets to the policeman’s ball.”

Claire discreetly tried to scratch her butt.  Maybe
it
was
Ollie she was allergic to.

Walk Like an Egyptian

Ollie
vowed to keep her mouth shut about Scarlet from here on out. She owed Scarlet
that much. After all, she had bailed them out of trouble twice. She would
sincerely hate to be in Claire’s shoes right now.

EZ
was in the back of the van with her Walkman cassette player plugged into her
ears. The tinny sound of the Bangles’ “Walk Like an Egyptian” could be heard
leaking out of her earphones. G-Ray was sprawled across the bed, sleeping, with
Oscar nestled in his arms. Claire was busy on her phone again.

Ollie
drove. She bit her lip. She wasn’t going to bitch about the phone. If Claire
wanted to spend all her time in virtual world, so be it. She wouldn’t bitch
about it. She wouldn’t say a word. Not one thing. Not one word. She wouldn’t
even think about it.

“What
the hell do you do on that phone all the time?” Okay, so she said something.
So, sue her.

Without
looking up, Claire answered, “Scarlet isn’t answering my texts.”

“Maybe
she’s at work,” Ollie said.

“She
takes her phone with her everywhere.”

“Maybe
she’s on the toilet.”

“She
takes her phone with her everywhere.”

“Eww,”
Ollie said, making a face. “You mean she texts while she’s pooping?”

“Scarlet
doesn’t poop. She’s above pooping,” Claire said.

Wow.
Ollie thought that sounded a little harsh. “She’s probably mad. She did just
bail you out of jail and then bail us out.”

“You’re
on her side now?” Claire asked.

“I
didn’t realize there were sides. But now that you mention it, I guess I’d have
to be on my own side.”

“And
what side is that?”

“What
do you mean?” Ollie asked.

“If
you have a side, what’s your mission statement?”

“Mission
statement?”

“Yes,
Ollie, what do you want? What is it that you want out of life?”

Ollie
was at a loss. “I didn’t know I had to make a statement.”

“See,
that’s your problem,” Claire said. “You travel through life without a
destination. How do you know when you’ve arrived if you don’t know where you’re
going?”

Ollie
was confused. “I didn’t realize I had to have a map. I can’t even fold one of
those things correctly.”

“Of
course,” Claire said.

“I
haven’t changed, you know. I didn’t pretend to be somebody else. This is the
person you married. It wasn’t like I was hiding anything.”

“What?”

“What
what?”

Claire
said, “I didn’t understand a single word of your rambling.”

“Of
course you didn’t,” Ollie said. 

“You
know what?” Claire said with that tone in her voice that signaled her dander
was up. “I don’t think this thing is going to work.”

“What
thing?”

“This
divorce thing.”

“That’s
why we’re getting divorced, Claire.  Because it didn’t work. That’s the whole
point,” Ollie said.

“Stop
the car.”

“What?
Why?”

“Stop
the car,” Claire said louder.

“I’m
not stopping the car in the middle of the highway,” Ollie said.

“Fine,
I’ll jump,” Claire said, opening the door.

Ollie
slammed on the brakes and swerved to the right of way. She threw open her own
door. “You’re not leaving. I’m leaving.” She hopped out of the van, firmly
closed the door, and walked off down the highway.

Claire
jumped out of the van and slammed her door shut behind her. “You can’t leave!
I’m leaving!”

“I
can, too, leave!” Ollie said without turning around. “You don’t have the market
cornered on leaving.”

Claire
ran and caught up with Ollie. She walked alongside Ollie, matching her step for
step. “I’m leaving.”

Ollie
nudged Claire out of the way with her shoulder. “No, you’re not. I’m leaving.”

Claire
nudged Ollie back. “No, I’m leaving.”

Ollie
pushed Claire with one hand. “I’m leaving.”

Claire
pushed Ollie back. “I’m leaving.”

Ollie
stopped and pushed Claire with both her hands. Claire stumbled backwards. “I’m
leaving.”

Red-faced,
Claire pushed Ollie hard. Ollie fell on her butt. “I’m leaving!”

Ollie’s
eyes widened. “Let’s both leave!” Ollie ducked her head and rolled, taking
Claire’s feet out from under her. They fell into a heap and rolled across the
right of way, down the embankment and into a ditch of dirty water.

Claire
stood and sputtered, “What the hell, Ollie?”

Then
she saw what Ollie had seen. The van was on the move. It had been headed
straight for them and Ollie had rolled them both to safety.

“You
didn’t put on the emergency brake?” Claire said.

“How
was I supposed to know it was going to do that?” Ollie said.

They
watched the van roll down the highway and out of sight.

“What
now?” Claire asked.

“We
walk,” Ollie said. “It’s not going fast enough to hurt anybody even if it does
crash into something.”

Claire
and Ollie walked down the highway side by side, matching stride for stride.

“This
is the kind of thing I hate about you,” Claire said.

“I
didn’t do anything!” Ollie said.

“Stuff
like this always happens around you. We can’t just drive to Des Moines and get
a divorce. Oh no, that’s not the Ollie way. We have to get thrown out of the
Hard Rock and thrown into jail – twice, mind you – and then lose the van.”

“I
would like to take this opportunity to point out that it was you who took a
Bruce pill and jumped in the pool, not me.”

“I
hate you,” Claire said.

“I
hate you more,” Ollie said.

“I
hate you most.”

“I
hate you more than most.”

“I
hate you the mostest,” Claire said. She kicked a rock down the road.

Ollie
said, “Why do you always have to have the last word?”

“I
don’t.”

“There.
You did it again,” Ollie said.

“No,
I didn’t,” Claire argued.

“Then
prove it. Let me say the last thing.”

“Okay.”

“See?
You did it again.”

“I’m
just responding is all,” Claire said.

“Let
me have the last word for once,” Ollie said. “I bet you can’t. You have to say
something.”

Claire
opened her mouth. Then shut it. She clenched her jaw. They walked in silence
for fifteen, twenty, thirty seconds. Finally, Claire couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Your last word is always stupid.”

A
car whizzed past them. It was the same sports car as before. The one that had
the words “Just Married” soaped across its back window and tin cans dragging
along behind it.

Ollie
and Claire watched it pass. Neither said a word.

Onward Christian Soldiers

Twenty
minutes later Ollie and Claire were still walking down the side of the road.
Claire had her shoes off and was walking barefoot in the grass.

“It’s
not safe,” Ollie said. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“My
shoes weren’t made for walking.”

“Why
would anybody buy shoes that weren’t made for walking?” Ollie posed. “Doesn’t
that defeat the purpose of shoes?”

 Claire
ignored that remark. “I plan on taking precautions,” she said. “Hitchhiking can
be safe if the proper precautions are taken.”

“What
kind of precautions?”

“Well,
for starters, if the car stops and has one of those fish decals on them then
they are probably safe.”

“The
fish decal that means they’re Christians?”

“Yes.
Christians will be good Samaritans and pick us up. They won’t kill us.”

“You
think so, huh?” Ollie sniggered. “It’s Christians who do most of the killing in
this world. If you’d ever read the Bible you’d know that.”

“What
do you know about the Bible?”

“I
went to Bible Camp when I was a kid,” Ollie said. “It’s where I first kissed a
girl.”

Claire
waved her off with a flick of her wrist. “Here comes a car now. Watch this.”
She stuck out her thumb in the universal hitchhiking signal.

“That’s
a van,” Ollie protested. “You don’t want to get in a van. Serial killers drive
vans. Haven’t you ever seen one of those movies? They’ll lure you inside then
the next thing you know they’ll be wearing a dress made out of your skin.”

The
joyous sounds of people singing the hymn “Onward Christian Soldiers” reached
Ollie’s ears. As the van stopped so did the singing. The window rolled down on
the passenger side. A man with a mustache was driving. Ollie didn’t like men
with mustaches. She thought they were hiding something.

A
blonde woman smiled at them from the passenger seat. Ollie peered into the back
of the van and saw ten or more smiling faces. “Hi, we’re members of C.R.A.P.S.,
the Christian Reformation and Proclamation Society and we’re on our way to a
Holy Word Convention in Des Moines,” the blond woman said. “Do you two need
help?”

“Nope,”
Ollie said quickly. She took a step away from the van. She thought they looked
like Stepford Christians. Vacant eyes. Plastic smiles. Too much hairspray.
Button down short-sleeved shirts for the men and culottes and support hose for
the women. Not that Ollie could actually see the culottes and hose, but her
imagination could and that was kind of the same thing.

“Yes,”
Claire said. “I could use a ride.”

“Well,
hop on in,” the blond woman said. “The more the merrier.”

“First
I need to ask you some questions,” Claire said. “Do you have any outstanding
warrants?”

“No,
I don’t believe so,” the woman said.

“You
don’t drink and drive, do you?” Claire asked.

“Oh
no, we don’t drink at all. We don’t even drink wine at communion. It’s grape
juice,” the woman said proudly.

“Do
you plan on killing me?” Claire asked. “I know that’s blunt, but I would
appreciate an honest answer.”

“No,”
the woman said. “We’re still full from the last hitchhiker we killed and ate.”

Claire
stared at her blankly.

“That
was a joke,” the woman said.

“Oh,”
Claire said. “Next question. You weren’t planning on raping or pillaging me
were you?”

“I
don’t know how to pillage.” The woman turned to the man. “Honey, do you know
how to pillage?”

“Isn’t
that the thing all the youngsters are doing?”

“No,
that’s twerking.”

“Working?
The kids I know don’t work,” he said.

Everyone
in the van laughed uproariously like that was the funniest thing they’d ever
heard. Their eerie laughter gave Ollie a bad case of the willies.

“I’d
love a ride,” Claire said. She opened the side door and hoisted herself inside.
She turned back to Ollie. “Coming?”

Ollie
shook her head and whispered, “Claire, I don’t think this is a good idea. You
don’t know these people. I don’t like their sense of humor.”

“Bye,
Ollie.” Claire slid the door shut and the van moved on down the road. Ollie
stared after it.

Well,
Ollie thought, so much for sticking together. She sat down on the side of the
road and put her head between her knees. She wished for the umpteenth time that
she could get a magic knife and cut out the part of her heart that loved
Claire. It would be like cutting out the bruised part of an apple. She would
throw away the bruised, icky part, stick the rest of the apple back in her
chest and then she’d be okay. Sure, a part of her apple would be missing and
she’d probably never love again, but that would be so much easier than what she
was feeling right now.

Ollie
heard tires screech and gravel crunching. Her first thought was that Claire had
directed the Christians back to rescue her. He heart lifted at the thought and
she silently cursed herself for letting Claire have that much control over her
apple.

But
it wasn’t the Christians at all.

It
was G-Ray driving her van. He grinned at her. “Need a ride?”

Oscar
barked happily when he saw Ollie’s face.

Ollie
jumped to her feet and threw herself into the passenger seat. She pointed at
the road ahead. “Follow those Christians!”