A Little Drive - Chapter 5, Part 1

A Little Drive - Chapter 1

A Little Drive - Chapter 2

Chapter 5: Time to Go

When Charles awoke he could smell the coffee and bacon being prepared in the kitchen by Dee Dee. He walked out to the kitchen and said hello. "Good morning Charlie", Dee Dee said as she handed him a warm cup of coffee fixed just the way he liked it. "Looks like today is the big day", she said.

Charles coughed a couple of times and then thanked her. "I must of have a beer too many last night and a few too many cigarettes cause my throats a little sore and so is my head". Charels finished his coffee and then took a shower and dressed. After getting dressed he went out to the kitchen and finished his breakfast with Dee Dee and Stuart.

"Hey Chuck", said Stuart, "How much money you got left?"

Charles said, "Well after getting my checks I figure I had a little over six grand, spent about $400 on parts and things so I got about $5,500 left."

Stuart frowned, "Did you think about how much need when you get back? Your going to need first and last months rent, deposit for utilities and money to tide you over while you find a new job. You gotta be looking at $1,500 when you get back".

"How much of your money are you bringing with you in cash?" asked Stuart.

"All of it". said Charles.

"What? Are you crazy?" asked Stuart. "Listen, you'd better get some traveler's checks. What if you get mugged or something? When you go down to the bank to cash your check, see if you can get two grand or so in traveler's checks and keep the rest in cash for the places that won't take the checks>

Charles stood up and said, "Well, I packed everything last night and I think it is time to go." Charles said. He kissed Francine and Dee Dee goodbye and they all headed out to the car. After kissing Dee Dee one last time and hugging Stuart he drove off to the bank and then to San Francisco.

As Charles drove down the freeway he began to feel sad about leaving his family. For a few seconds he even thought as if he might cry. These thoughts eventually passed as he began to thing about what lay ahead. He thought about the places he would be seeing and the people he would meet. As he drove through Vacaville he could smell the onions that grew there and swore that he would try to avoid driving there ever again.

He pulled into San Francisco around four o'clock and, after driving over the Bay Bridge he headed for the Golden Gate Bridge. He drove over the Golden Gate and then immediately turned around and drove back. He went over it just so he could say he did.

By five-thirty he had managed to find Fisherman's Wharf, so he parked his car and took a short walk to look at the different sites. Charles was amazed by the mime he saw and by how colorful and lively the city seemed.

Charles at dinner at one of the fancier restaurants, spending nearly $60 for his meal. He had a steak and lobster and while he ate it he looked at the others in the restaurant. He thought the restaurant was incredible and was surprised that nobody in the restaurant noticed how nice it was or to be in the slightest bit impressed by the service or food. It was like they took it for granted. The otherse seemed as comfortable as if they were in a Denny's.

When he left the restaurant it was already dark. He headed to the Ripley's Believe it or Not Museum and then over to the Guinness Book of World Records Museum. As the he left the Guiness Museum he was considering staying the night; but, he was interrupted by a man in a nice suit who asked him if he would like some company. Charles was a little taken aback by the man and decided to head further south before deciding on a place to stay for the night.

Getting in his car, Charles was still trying to decide where to stay for the night. He thought he could drive all the way to Los Angeles but wanted to enjoy the drive and stay in at least San Louis Obispo, which was a couple miles down the road. He drove further south and as he was leaving San Francisco he found that he needed to stop at a gas station to get some throat lozenges as his throat was sorer. He also picked up some aspirin and face tissue.

Drivng down the freeway while sneezing and coughing he was listening to one of the local jazz stations. A tune called "Groove Yard" was being played and Charles began to imagine himself as a modern day Jack Kerouac. Still, as he drove, he could not seem to settle into the drive and was beginning to feel more chilly.

By the time he got to Monterey he was too sick to continue and ended up pulling into some small motel along the way and checked in for the night. Somehow he managed to get all of his possessions into the motel and after settling in he went right to sleep.

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PIMPERNEL COMMENT:

I have to be honest. I haven't read this in well over a decade. I wrote it in about 1985 and updated in around 93 or 94. I wrote it before the internet existed. The original car in the story was a Rambler with a cassette tape. Most people wouldn't know what I was talking about today. There were no cell phones when I wrote this story. There were but nobody had them, people used pagers and that was just for a few businessmen.

So much has changed since I wrote this. In the end the story is about disappointment. It is about the difference between aspirational images of the world and the reality of it. I had graduated from graduate school, got married and got injured. I couldn't work or walk well for a year. My ex got a job for that year and I took care of my step daughter and learned to cook and clean. I found myself having lived in multiple states, graduating law school and having to move back to the same apartment buildings I had lived in when I was very young.

You can do all the things they tell you that you should to succeed and still fail. That was what I was trying to convey at that time. Yes, I did do very well later and still have many options open to me; but, in the end I learned you can lose it all in a second. I have asked this before. On 9-11 there was a guy sitting on a toilet in the Twin Towers. He was complaining about the stock market or his wife or his car or welfare or whatever and a plane flew into his rear-end and he died not knowing what had just occurred.

This story was about how we fool ourselves into believing that anything is possible for everyone. Take a moment with that. It is hard for me to retype this, not just because of my arthritis. I want to rewrite the whole thing, every sentence. I would word it and write it so much better today; but, I don't want to rewrite the story. It spoke for a time in my life and a point I wanted to make. I wrote this 32 years ago. I was in my 20s. LOL. I wrote it long hand and only transcribed it almost 10 years later.

I am going to force myself to post the rest of it. I don't know how much I will need to rewrite to avoid losing my mind. I just don't want to rewrite it all. I want to get back to writing my story about vampires and the rat pack. If my scanner worked, I would scan the story and not worry about all the mistakes; but, it does not.