The Feet of God
97 - SOME COMFORT FROM THE STORM
I heard the rain before I felt
it. Big drops plopped down around me
like fat water balloons, and everything turned to mud. Faster an’ faster the rain came down until I
was soaked in a driving downpour.
With all this going on I heard an engine roar up behind. I swung around, my thumb extended in the air
as if by instinct, then headlights blinded my tired ol’ eyes. And damn, if that Mustang didn’t slow down.
It was a silver convertible, but I didn’t linger with the admiring. It rolled to a stop and I slipped into that
car as fast as I could.
“Thanks a lot, you really saved my ass.”
I settled in the passenger seat.
I was jabbering away in gratitude before I took a real look-see who the
driver was. Whoa! Talk about your
answered prayers! I was now outta the
raging rainstorm and sitting next to one really hot babe in a polka dot dress.
She sounded nearly breathless, “I couldn’t leave a poor thing like you out in
the rain like that. Seeing you there
made me feel sad, and I’m not into feeling sad.” She stretched out her hand, “I like feeling
good.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I shook her hand.
The babe hit the pedal and off we zoomed.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Florida,” I answered. I scanned the sky
for more lightning strikes. “I have a
hunch I might find my little half-sister there.”
“Is she lost or missing, or did something terrible happen?”
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“You’re not sure?”
“Well, I know she suddenly disappeared back in Bakersfield.”
“I see,” the blonde driver said softly.
I looked down at my ragged clothes and suddenly realized I was dripping all
over her nice car. “Sorry about getting
your car wet and messed up.”
“It’s a rental.” She sure had the
prettiest voice. “Florida may not be
Texas, but it’s still a big place. You
know where to find your baby sister?”
“Not right off hand, but I’m being led and I know I’m supposed to go there, so
I’m doing it. What about you? Where you headed to?”
“Tampa. Got tired of New York. Thought I’d give Florida a try.” Her thick blonde hair fell across her
shoulder when she turned her head just enough to give me a side-glance and a
peekaboo look.
“Know what you’re gonna do in Tampa when you get there?” I asked.
“Same thing I did in New York.”
My eyes lit up. “You an actress? You’re sure pretty ‘nuff to be on TV.”
“Well, there was a guest shot on Cops St. Louis, but no, I’m not a
regular actress if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh, then you gotta be a singer in one of them fancy, high-class nightclubs,
right?”
“Not exactly.” I could see her smile my
way.
It took a few seconds for me to process what this beautiful woman was saying to
me. “Do you mean that…and I don’t mean
to offend you or nothin’, and I sure don’t wanna get thrown back out in the
rain…but are you sayin’ you’re a lady of the boulevards?”
“Well, I think of myself as a professional in the adult entertainment field.”
“But money is exchanged for…favors?”
“I could do you a favor for three hundred.”
“I ain’t got no three hundred.”
“Well, what do you have? Anything? I need gas money.”
I reached in my pocket and pulled out five soggy twenty dollar bills. “Will this be enough?”
“You haven’t filled a tank in a while, have you?” She sighed.
“Okay, it’ll have to do.”
We drove on in silent excitement for another mile or so when we found an empty
rest area. She pulled over, shut off the
engine, adjusted my seat so I was leaned back real comfortable like, then she
turned on the radio.
(The question might arise: How did a
poor man like me on a road trip come across a hundred simoleons? Simple:
When Charlie was on the porch with Tiberius I went through the son-of-a-bitch’s fanny pack left on his seat. He
had a stash of Jacksons just waitin’ to be plucked. So pluck I did. I figured those chicken shit truckers had
worked my ass off back there and owed me big-time for services rendered. I was not gonna pass up the opportunity to
confiscate what was rightfully due me.
Fuckers.)
So I had a fresh wad of cash on me, and if I wanted to spend it on ten minutes
of profane gratification, it ain’t nobody’s business. That’s my business. And it might’a been ten minutes or more, I’m
not sure, but while business got transacted, I passed out.