Starla & Rupert

StrAngels: Starla and Rupert

The Charger turned left from the back road onto route 50.

“Your pocket is sticking out the bottom of your shorts.” Campbell took his right hand off the steering wheel and reached over to Rachel in the passenger’s seat. He pushed the white pocket back across the top of her pale thigh to stuff it under the frayed edge of her jean shorts.

She slapped his hand, laughing.

A loud screeching sound came from ahead. Campbell jerked his head up and put his hand back on the steering wheel.

Honking horns along with the tearing of metal and glass shrieked through the air. The truck in front of them swerved before jack-knifing itself. Campbell pounded his foot on the brake pedal and attempted to turn the car away before it slammed into the flatbed trailer. The front end of the Charger pushed in like it was wet cardboard while the long rusted bundle of rebar atop the flatbed pierced the window just above the dash board and spiked straight through the passenger’s seat.

*****

“You forgot to sign the second page of the document sir.” The nurse pointed out before she handed the clipboard back to him.

“Where?” Campbell asked as he squinted. The lighting in the hospital was muted but the sight of any bit of illumination dug right through his skull to press into his brain like hundreds of vibrating thumb tacks.

The nurse pointed to a small line about halfway down the page. Campbell grimaced as he moved his right arm up to scribble his name.

“Thank you, sir. I hope you have a speedy recovery. Do you have your instructions and prescription from Dr. Beffer?” She flipped through the documents on the clipboard to give them a once over.

“Yes, yes I do.”

The orderly pulled the wheelchair back from the counter before moving him out to the waiting area. Rachel and The Salamander jumped from their chairs and ran over to greet him. Rachel draped her arms around him and kissed the side of his head above his ear. She pulled herself back to look down at the scratches on Campbell’s forehead. She touched the side of his bruised left eye as she let the tears in her eyes loose to fall inward along the sides of her nose.

“Hey Rach, relax. I’m alright.” Campbell stood from the wheelchair and put his right arm around the top of her back. He lifted his left arm in the air to welcome The Salamander so they could share a three-way hug.

Campbell lifted his chin from The Salamander’s bushy black hair to glance across the waiting room. The orderly took the wheelchair and left them.

“Where’s the old man?” Campbell asked as he squinted while twisting his head to scan the cluttered diversity of faces patiently waiting.

“Hey, Cam.” The Salamander whispered. “Let’s just cut our losses and blow this joint.” He grabbed Campbell’s arm and tried to lead him to the glass exit doors at the front of the waiting room.

“Yeah baby, let’s get out of here. I called my aunt. She’s coming to get us. But we told her to pick us up down the street at Archibald’s. It’s a killer pancake house that Sally found. We can go relax and get some waffles while we wait for her.” Rachel put her hand at the small of Campbell’s back.

“We need to get some information on him.” Campbell turned to walk toward the admittance counter.

“Wait!” The Salamander grabbed his right shoulder and jerked him back. From behind, he draped his left arm around his stomach to stop him. “We’re not going to see him and they’re not going to give us any kind of update on his condition. So let’s just get the hell out of here!”
“Cam, Sally’s right. We’ve been back and forth with them all night about this. If we keep pushing it, they’re going to put us in the crazy house. Let’s just…just go get some waffles.”

“So they’re saying he’s…he’s dead.” Breathing heavily Campbell slouched and put his hand on his forehead to shield his eyes from the fluorescent light fixture above.

“Not…exactly.” The Salamander let go of him and stepped back.

*****

“Are you kidding me, man?” Campbell shut the car door as he walked around the front of the Charger toward The Salamander’s porch.

“What?”

“It’s over 90 degrees and you’re wearing a long sleeved flannel?”

“I am cold—blood—ed! This is how The Salamander rolls!” The Salamander put his sunglasses on and lifted his duffel bag and back pack from the porch-top. He tossed it at Campbell before trekking down the stairs. They put the simplified luggage in the trunk.

“It’s about ten degrees hotter inside this contraption than it is out there Sally…so be warned!” Rachel stuck her bare feet out the passenger side window.

“No problemo girl! The Salamander can handle it!” He replied as he slid into the back seat. The Salamander reached over to Rachel and scattered his fingers through her long dark hair.

“Hey man!! Don’t mess me up!” She pushed his hand away from her as she sat up and jerked her pink rimmed shades from her face.

“Yeah, you might be able to handle it Sally but what about us having to deal with your sweaty stank throughout this trip? And what about this chick of yours that we’re going to pick up along the way? Don’t you think she might find your sweaty ass a bit repugnant?” Campbell cranked the ignition to fire up the Charger.

“Nahhh….Starla loves the way The Salamander stanks.” The Salamander shook his head and plowed his fingers through the greasy frizzled strands of his hair as the car pulled away.

“Starla? Is that really her name? Sooo…uhhh…is that her own personal professional name or did the strip club provide her with that moniker?” Rachel preemptively scooted up to the dashboard to the right avoiding The Salamander’s arm reaching out from the back seat.

“Come on now!” Campbell swerved the car as he smiled while reaching back to knock Sal’s arm away.

“Hey man! Don’t push me! She’s the one who made the wise crack!” The Salamander re-directed his attack to punch Campbell’s shoulder. The Charger swerved across the middle of the road to the other lane before Campbell jerked the wheel left to get the car back on track.

The Salamander—lying across the couch-like back seat with his feet pressed against the faded beige car ceiling opened his eyes and shouted out; “Ohhhh!!! Salamander tip number 276!!!!”

“What ya got for us buddy?” Campbell reached over to turn down the stubby black radio volume knob.

“Let me guess…this Salamander tip is about how to get a stripper to go with you to Lake Wippoteka for the weekend after only a couple dates?” Rachel let out in an exaggerated sarcastic tone before hopping up and down in the passenger’s seat.

“No…nothing like that.” The Salamander scooted back to yank his legs from the ceiling and twist his body around to a sitting position. “This Salamander tip is something I got from Robbie, the maintenance tech out at the plant. And for the record it was only one date before Starla agreed to come on the trip. Well not really a date but a killer night out last weekend where we first met at Club Bonanza. Anyway, back to Salamander tip # 276. Ya know how on the weekends ‘The Big Slab Buffet’ has a breakfast selection in the mornings?”

“’The Big Slab’? Disgusting!” Rachel opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue before making a puking noise.

“Well…my buddy told me that they start switching over to the lunch menu at around 10:30. So if you go there at 9:30…quarter to 10 or so you can hook up a nice breakfast. Then you wait around for a bit until they have the lunch food out and scoop yourself up a killer lunch on top of it! Two distinctly different types of buffets for the price of one baby! That my friends, is probably one of the top ten Salamander tips of all time!!!” The Salamander put his hand on Campbell’s shoulder and shook it as he laughed.

“FOUL!!! I don’t think you can count that as an official Salamander tip.” Rachel chimed in.

Campbell turned the car onto the cracked cement slab leading to a gas station.

“What do you mean I can’t count that as a Salamander tip?”

“You can’t count it because it’s not really your tip. It’s this Robbie guy, the maintenance tech from your job. It’s his tip. I think you’re going to have to crank your Salamander Tip Meter back down to 275.” Rachel shimmied her shoulders while adding a considerable amount of sass to her voice.

“Whoah…whoah…whoah!! Who’s the one that gave you this tip…The Salamander…that’s who! Tip number 276 is locked, loaded and fired! Put it down—in—stone! Bing—go!”

“That’s bogus.” Rachel stated as she leaned forward to pick her purse up from the floor.

“She’s got a point Sally.” Campbell said as he shifted the car into park, turned off the ignition and pulled the keys out.

“Seriously, Cam? I gave the guy credit at the very beginning of the tip. Are you telling me that if someone puts a footnote in their report or book, that if someone uses a cited reference that all of the sudden they’re not the author of the main material your reading? He just told me about what time they switch from breakfast to lunch. My tip of going there to be in between is mine. I went there and did it myself. This is a Salamander tip if I’ve ever given one!”

“He’s got a good point Rach.” Campbell nodded.

“What…everrrrr.” Rachel opened the door and got out of the car.

“So it is….Salamander Tip # 276 is on hold until further review.” Campbell declared before pushing the driver’s side door open.

“FURTHER REVIEW!?!!?! You need to ratify it now!” The Salamander shouted as he huffed out from the back seat.

Campbell went to the gas pump and hit the buttons on the screen to select pay inside for regular grade. He paused with the handle in his grip as he watched Rachel walk away from them. His eyes fixed on her ass as she walked into the gas station.

The Salamander leaned against the pump as he lit a cigarette.

“What in the hell are you doing man! You trying to start an explosion and get us all killed?” Campbell jumped back.

“That’s an urban legend, dude.”

“What’s an urban legend—that when sparks and flames are put to large amounts of contained gasoline that it will cause a massive fire or explosion?”

“I’m not putting sparks and flames to gasoline. I’m standing over here having a CIG-A-RETTE. And, might I add, only because you won’t let me smoke inside your ride!”

“Well if you want to have a cigarette fine, just go smoke it over by the dumpster or on the corner.” Campbell put the nozzle into the black metal hole surrounded by sprinkles of rust and squeezed the handle.

“So…you and Rachel had sex last night.”

“ Seriously!! Put that thing out or get away from here!”

“You know I’m all about safety first, dude! Hell, I’m on the safety team at work…so relax. I’m flicking my ash in the windshield fluid holder over here and when it’s time to put it out I’ll put it out on the post—make sure it’s completely extinguished before I toss it. So, about you two bonin’ last night how was it?”

“What are you talk…talking about?” Campbell turned from him and looked back at the doors leading into the station.

“Ha!!! I’m right! You and Rach hit the skins last night! You can give the Salamander a little bit of a scoop. Come on, Cam how freaky freaky was it?”

“I know it’s been awhile since you’ve had a girlfriend, Salamander, but the last thing that I’m going to do is let you live vicariously through your assumptions about my relationship with Rachel.”

“Brother, I can read you like a book. How long have I known you? Every time you sleep with one of your girlfriends you turn into Mr. Jealousy the next day. It gots ta be some kind of guilt complex! I saw that look in your eyes while you were staring at her ass in those shorts as she walked away. It wasn’t a look of pride like ‘that ass is mine!’…it was like you resented her for lookin’ so hot. Dude you need to ease up—enjoy it or you’ll lose it!” The Salamander took the last puff of his cigarette before he put the amber topped butt of his smoke between his pointer finger and thumb and flicked it past the pump toward the building.

“You should stop thinking about me and start trying to think about your relationship with this Starla.” Campbell stared at him.

“Look…the two of you have been together for what…about a year now. I know how much you’re into her. All I’m saying is that if I can notice your jealous tendencies so easily you’ve got to assume she can sense it herself. This took you down with other chicks—remember how you messed it all up with you Brandy Taylor? Think about it. Hey…I’m gonna go in and get me a fat sack of barbecue pork rinds. You want anything?”

“Nahhh, I’m good.”

Campbell pulled the bottom of his shirt up to his forehead and wiped the sweat away as he waited in the car. Rachel returned with a slim beef jerky and cheese stick combo pack. She handed it to him after shutting the door.

“So…when did you get those shorts?”

“I made them. They were my ‘cute butt’ jeans that you liked so much. The leg bottoms became frayed and I tore a hole in the knee from a nail on my dad’s back porch so I decided to cut them down and turn them into shorts for the trip.” She smiled before ripping the top off a bag of salted peanuts.

“Salamander tip number 277!” The Salamander shouted out as he squeezed through the back seat window.

“Nope. It can’t be tip number 277—tip number 276 has yet to be ratified.” Rachel pointed her finger in the air.

Campbell remained quiet as he started the car. The Salamander struggled to push himself all the way through the window before he could twist his body around to sit at the center of the back seat. The black Charger pulled away from the station.

“276 hasn’t been dismissed yet. That means that it is still on the table so I’m going to call this new one tip number 277. So…Salamander Tip number 277 is when you’re in a bathroom that has a condom vending machine and white liquid hand soap you should buy a condom smother it with some of that soap and leave it laying around in the bathroom somewhere.”

“Ohhh hell no!!” Rachel shouted out as she started laughing.

“Did you really just do that in there?” Campbell smiled as he looked up at the rearview mirror.

“Can you imagine the customer who goes in there and reports it or how about the poor clerk who has to go in and clean it up! This is gonna be awesome! Bing—go!”

“That is a pretty damn good one!” Campbell laughed. “I’ll vote yes on number 277.”

“Yes on 277. You can mark it down. But…you’re not even going to be there to see it all happen.” Rachel put her pink shades on. She removed her yellow flops and leaned back to stick her bare feet out of the window.

“Doesn’t matter. When it goes down, it goes down. I don’t need to be there. I can see it in my head. Salamander tip number 277 is in the books. Right on!” The Salamander tore open his fat sack of barbecue pork rinds.

Campbell adjusted his hands at the top of the hot black steering wheel. He positioned his fingers the best way he could to hold the note-book paper directions in front of him without limiting his ability to maneuver the car.

“Hey!” Rachel sat up.

“What?” A startled Campbell swerved and almost put the car into the ditch.

“Did I tell you I had two of my neighbors die yesterday?”

“Are you a suspect?” The Salamander leaned across to poke his head into the front seat.

“Anyone we know?” Campbell asked.

“I think you met one of them. Sam Arlington. He was at Randy’s Christmas party last year…you know the tall guy with a badly-sour hair cut.

“Oh yeah…that guy. He’s a….urr…he was a total jag bag!” The Salamander jumped into the conversation.

“Yeah I remember him. I think I saw him at the Boar Banger Fest like two weeks after the party. Wow…so he’s dead?” Campbell put the note book paper on the arm rest between them.

“Yeah. It was the craziest thing! He was playing softball in the league they got out there at the Winston Street fields. Sam was playing centerfield and all of the sudden he just fell over. They called the ambulance. The paramedics came running out on the field. They went to use the defibrillator on him. Turns out the thing wasn’t charged. The paramedics had to go get the back up. This one was charged but they couldn’t save him. Turns out that the paramedic who was trying to save him was responsible for keeping the defibrillator charged. They told him at the hospital when he was preannounced dead that if the first one was charged he would’ve lived. Annnnddddd…..that paramedic himself was also one of my neighbors. He came home from work last night after all this happened and dropped dead of a heart attack himself in his kitchen. Now is that weird or is that weird?” Rachel asked.

“Whoah…karma.” The Salamander sat back as he put his hand to his forehead, trying to digest the series of events.

“How did you hear about all this?” Campbell asked as he picked up the notebook paper directions from the arm rest.

“The lady who lives downstairs from me…Agnes told me this morning.”

“Oh that crazy lady with all the cats who sits on the porch watching what everyone else is doing all day long.” Campbell nodded as he smiled.

“Hey! I don’t think that she would make something like this up. Sorry that I didn’t have time to run around the neighborhood to get people to collaborate her story!” Rachel slapped his arm before she returned to her lounging position and stuck her feet back out the window.

“Corroborate.” The Salamander’s mumbled correction fell upon deaf ears.

They had driven for almost two hours down long stretches and turns through back roads. Cornfields lined the sides of the sometimes one lane, sometimes gravel and mostly vacant pathways. Rachel was actually snoring louder than The Salamander. Campbell looked over the notebook paper trying to make sense of the next lines of the scribbled directions.

“Hey, Sally!” Campbell shouted out as he pressed the brake, bringing the car to a 10 mile per hour speed.

The Salamander grumbled in his slumber as he circled deeper into his obscure crescent moon/ banana position across the back seat.

Campbell pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. “Hey Sally!” He shouted out again as he reached around to shake The Salamander. After a couple minutes, he got out of the car and opened the back door. The cloudless sky left the sun open to beam down and pound the back of Campbell’s neck as if someone was pressing a handful of hot stones against it. He grabbed The Salamander’s leg and yanked it.

“Alriiiight!!! ALRIGHT ALREADY!!!” The Salamander shouted out as he kicked up his right foot at Campbell almost catching him in the face with his steel-toed, oil stained work boot.

“I’ve been trying to wake you for the last 5 miles. I need your help here!” Campbell poked his head into the front window and plucked the notebook papers from the seat.

Rachel yawned her way out of slumber as The Salamander climbed from the back seat.

“Need I remind you of Salamander Tip number 83? DO NOT under any circumstances disrupt The Salamander while he is in a deep, peaceful sleep! I can’t stress enough…hugh…ughh.” Before he could finish his sentence The Salamander leaned over and began a loud, straining cough. After 6 throaty hacks he hurled up a pale red vomit across the top of the gravel road.

“You alright Sally?” Campbell walked over to him.

“Yeah.” The Salamander let out a muffled answer as he shook his hand back at Campbell to wave him off.

“Ouch! No Way!!!” Rachel shouted as she got out of the car. She strategically placed her bare feet along the top of edgy grey rocks to make her way around the front of the Charger.

“What’s wrong…you okay Rach?” Campbell asked as he shifted his attention.

When she emerged from the front side of the car he noticed her right foot was bright red while her left remained as completely pale as the rest of her lower appendages.

“That’s awesome!!!” Campbell started laughing. “Hey, Sally check this out.”

The Salamander rose up from his slouch before leaning back and taking a deep breath. He wiped his mouth clean of the remaining spittle with his flannel sleeve as he turned. “Nice work.”

“You know one of you douche bags could’ve waken me up or at least moved my foot from the window!” Rachel smiled as she punched Campbell’s arm.

“That’s all on Cam. I was out of commission myself. It looks good on you though red-foot!” The Salamander adjusted his sunglasses before lodging a cigarette in the right corner of his mouth. It took three flicks of the lighter before he got it lit.

“Why are we stopped anyway?” Rachel draped her arm around Campbell—put her head to his shoulder.

“These directions to your girl’s house Sally; toward the end here they’re starting to get screwy. I can’t read half of this chicken scratch.” He handed the crinkled paper over.

The Salamander lifted his glasses to the top of his head as he accepted the sheets. He squinted while looking at the bottom half of the page. “Trrugen….or is it frugen… lupon…strrrr….roaddd? I don’t know how you can expect me to read this man!” He extended the papers back to Campbell.

“You can’t read it??? You’re the one that wrote it down!” Campbell pushed his hand back. “I’d like to get to Lake Wippoteka sometime today. You should’ve printed out a Mapquest like I told ya!”

“Starla dictated these directions to me…I think she would know better than Mapquest about how to get to her own house. I thought I wrote ‘em all down good. But alright, I’ll give her a buzz.” The Salamander patted himself down trying to find his cell phone. He tilted his head to see that it was lying on the floor in the back of the car. He leaned in and snatched it up. “Where are we at on these directions right now?”

“Were on 6000 west, about halfway down the page here.” Campbell pointed at the somewhat readable scribbling that preceded the trug&ne-l+ljejr.

“Alright…I got this.” The Salamander flipped his phone open and scrolled down to Starla’s number. He pulled his cigarette from his mouth as he put the cell phone to his ear. “Hey Baby!!”

“This is ridiculous! We’d already almost be at Lake Wippoteka if it wasn’t for this bogus excursion!” Rachel twisted her head around to look down the long stretch of road ahead. A knee-sized array of green and brown brush was sprinkled with lavender poppies ran along the ditch-side.

“Relax. This is good for Sally…maybe he’ll settle down with this chick. And hey, would you rather have him come along as a third wheel again or take this little side trip to get this Starla girl for him?” Campbell leaned into Rachel and kissed her forehead.

“DAMN IT!!!” The Salamander shouted and kicked some gravel as he stared down at his cell phone.

“What’s wrong?”

“Either she hung up on me or the reception out here sucks!” The Salamander tossed his cigarette down and stomped on it before pounding the redial button in an attempt to reconnect. “Busy signal. For a cell phone? She’s got voicemail!” The Salamander shouted out.

Campbell took the phone from him. “Did you get to ask her about the directions at all?” After hearing the grating busy signal Campbell closed the flip phone and handed it back to him.

“Yeah. She said we’re on the right path and the next turn is a right turn onto Thorngson Road. After that I can pretty much read the rest of my notes. Starla said that it was imperative that we stick to these directions. ‘Imperative’…what does that mean?” The Salamander’s hands shook as he pulled another cigarette from his cigarette pack.

“Imperative means necessary or unavoidable.” Rachel winced from the gravel road piercing the bottom of her feet as she hobbled back to the car.

“Really? Can you get someone to ‘collaborate’ that for you? I know what imperative means I just don’t know what she meant by it.”

Rachel flipped her middle finger up at him without looking back.

“Everything okay Sally?” Campbell asked as he looked up from the papers.

“Yeah. She just sounded flat, uncaring in her voice before we disconnected.” He lit a new smoke before stuffing the lighter and phone in the right chest pocket of his flannel.

“Look, I know she lives in the sticks out here.” Campbell put his hand on the sweat drenched left shoulder of The Salamander’s flannel. “But, these directions are bunk. We could’ve gone down route 50 and been a lot further along than we are now. At the end of the day we’re going realize that this zigzagging around the back roads is just a ridiculous mess and a waste of time.” Campbell waved the papers in the air.

“Yeah…alright. At the end the day I think we’ll all be sitting back, relaxing with some beers!”

They took the right hand turn onto Thorngson Road. More cornfields but the single lane gravel road transitioned into a thin two lane jobber with chipped yellow hash marks running down the center.

“You know what? I’m done with these directions!” Campbell tossed them into the back seat as he slowed the car at the next intersection. “The next major road we need is Sylvester. I’m sure we can get there from route fifty and find it in half the time.”

“Whatever’s clever man.” The Salamander stepped on the papers before kicking them under the seat. “I could go for a bite if we pass something with a drive- thru. Those barbecue pork rinds didn’t do it for me.”

Campbell turned the Charger right to head down a recently paved two lane road with bright yellow lines down the center of the black asphalt. After 10 miles passing a variety of barns, silos and free range cows the whizzing sound of traffic came through the open windows of the car to accompany the warm breeze.

They turned left from the back road onto route 50.

She slapped his hand, laughing.

A loud screeching sound came from ahead. Campbell jerked his head up and put his hand back on the steering wheel.

Honking horns along with the tearing of metal and glass shrieked through the air. The truck in front of them swerved before jack-knifing itself. Campbell pounded his foot on the brake pedal in an attempt to turn the car away before it crashed into the flatbed trailer. The front end of the Charger pushed in like it was wet cardboard while the long rusted bundle of rebar atop the flatbed pierced through the window just above the dash board and spiked straight through the passenger’s seat.

*****

Campbell picked up Rachel’s pink suit case and hauled it down the stairs from her second floor apartment. When he was about halfway back up the stairs he noticed that Rachel was locking her front door.

“What are you doing?” He paused as he shouted up at her.

“That bag is all that I got. We’re good to go. Lake Wippoteka here we come! Whoot Whoot!!” She hopped up in the air and clapped before heading down the stairs.

“I…I know that’s all you had I thought you were going to put some clothes on before we leave.” Campbell smiled as he turned to follow her down to the car.

Rachel paused when she reached the bottom of the steps. She hunched over and let out a loud “Ahhhh!” Campbell dropped his keys as he ran down to her. He put his hand on her back.

“Are you alright, honey?”

Rachel calmed her heavy breathing as she stood up. She placed her hand above her stomach at the center of her torso before moving it between her breasts.

“My chest has been bothering me all morning. No big deal.”

“Is it heartburn? What have you eaten today?” Campbell kissed her left temple as he brushed her long black hair back from behind her ear.

“All I had was some cereal. It feels like a sharp piercing right at the center of my chest.” Her eyes shifted from a wince to an open look as she came back to her regular breathing pattern.

“We need to get you checked out!” Campbell held her left arm as he walked her to the car as if she were a100 year old woman recovering from a hip replacement surgery.

“Relax, Cam. It’s not a big deal. I feel better now. Let’s go pick up The Salamander!” With her re-ignited spirit, Rachel swung her arms around Campbell and planted a nice soft kiss on his lips.

“You scared me there. If it bothers you again you let me know.”

She nodded.

“Whoah…whoah…whoah!! Who’s the one that gave you this tip…The Salamander…that’s who! Tip number 276 is locked, loaded and fired! Put it down….in….stone! Bing—go!”

“That’s bogus…bah…arrrrhhhh!” As if someone just punched her square in the chest, Rachel shouted out as her upper body shot back pounding against the seat. She leaned her red face over and squirreled into a ball as she pressed her hands tightly between her breasts. Campbell swerved and almost hit the gas pump before slamming the brakes.

“What in the hell are you doing man! You trying to start an explosion and get us all killed?” The Salamander shouted from the backseat.

Campbell jumped out of the car and ran over to rip the passenger door open. He put his hand on Rachel’s shoulder and leaned over to try and look in her eyes. A sixty year old couple coming from the gas station paused and watched them with concerned looks gracing their wrinkled mugs.

The Salamander got out of the car and stood above Campbell. His hands shook as he pulled a cigarette out and lit it.

“Cam, I’m fine.” Rachel looked across the small crowd of people watching her situation as she put her yellow flip-flop right foot out onto the cracked pavement.

“No, you’re not. We need to bring you to the hospital right now!” Campbell reached down to try and move her foot back into the car.

“I don’t like hospitals.” The Salamander mumbled.

“Cam, I think you’re right. I think it might just be heartburn. Maybe they have something in the store there that could help me?”

“Okay…I’ll get some Pepto-Bismol but if it doesn’t work then we’re going to go get you checked out. No debate!!” Campbell gave her a quick peck on the forehead before standing up.

“Deal.” Rachel looked up at him and smiled as she shut the car door.

“Hey Sally, can you pull the car up and fill the tank while I go get this for her?”

“Man…if I don’t get a fat sack of barbecue pork rinds in my stomach ASAP something stupid’s gonna happen!” The Salamander lifted his sunglasses and shot some wide-eyed seriousity in his direction.

“I got you. Take care of this and I’ll be back in a minute.” Campbell handed him the keys before he turned and jogged toward the station. The old couple that was watching the situation became dis-interested and headed over to their light blue Cadillac sitting idle at pump 3.

The Salamander pushed the keys in and cranked the Charger up. He leaned over and deployed his left hand under the seat. He grunted as he scurried his arm around the perimeter of the beige driver’s chair.

“What are you doing?”

“The Salamander needs to be comfortable if he’s going to pilot this bad boy!” He shouted out.

“You’re only going to move the car up ten feet. It’s not like you’re going to drive us the rest of the way to Lake Wippoteka.” Rachel sighed.

“So…you and Cam had sex last night.”

“Seriously...just pump the gas so we can get back on the road.”

“You know I’m all about volunteering to pitch in and help out. Hell, I volunteered to be on the safety team at work…so relax. The Salamander is all over this filling up the tank mission. But how about you two bonin’ last night, how was it?”

“What are you talk…talking about?” Rachel turned from him and looked back at the doors leading into the station.

“Ha!!! I’m right! You and Cam hit the skins last night! You can give the Salamander a little bit of a scoop. Come on, Rach how freaky freaky was it?”

“I REALLY hope that this thing with this Starla girl works out for you…if not you need to start renting some porn.”

“Sister, I can read you like a book. How long have I’ve known you? Every time you sleep with one of your boyfriends you turn into Mrs. Drama Queen the next day. It gots ta be some kinda attention complex! You always come up an ailment or spew out multiple needy requests the day after. It’s almost like you are trying to prolong the attention that you got the night before. I saw the look in your eyes after he ran around to the passenger side of the car to see what was wrong. It wasn’t a look of pain like ‘I’m in misery and I need you to help me!’ it was a look of pride like you had gotten one over on him, made him come over to attend to your needs. Rach, you need to ease up, enjoy it or you’ll lose it!” The Salamander got out of the car.

“You need to mind your own business.” Rachel watched him walk to the pump and punch the buttons to select the regular grade and pay inside options.

“Look…the two of you have been together for what…about a year now.” The Salamander, with the handle in his grip, leaned over to look at Rachel. “I know how much you’re into him. All I’m saying is that if I can notice your little needy tendencies so easily you’ve got to assume he can sense it himself. Rach, this took you down with other dudes—remember how you messed it all up with you Mike Epperton? Think about it.”

“You alright Sally?” Campbell walked over to him.

“Yeah.” The Salamander let out a muffled answer as he shook his hand back at Campbell to wave him off.

“Ouch! No Way!!!” Rachel shouted as she got out of the passenger’s side. She strategically placed her bare feet along the top of the gravel road making her way around the front of the Charger.

“These directions to your girl’s house Sally; toward the end here they’re starting to get screwy. I can’t read half of this chicken scratch.” He handed the crinkled paper over.

The Salamander lifted his glasses to the top of his head. He squinted as he looked down at the bottom half of the page. “Trrugen….or is it frugen… lupon…strrrr….roaddd? I can’t read this dude! Alright…I got this.” The Salamander flipped his phone open and scrolled down to Starla’s number. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth as he put the cell phone to his ear. “Hey Baby!!”

“This is ridiculous! We’d already almost be at Lake Wippoteka if it wasn’t for this bogus excursion!” Rachel twisted her head around to look at bushy green ditch-side. An array of green and brown brush was sprinkled with lavender poppies. She placed her hand above her stomach at the center of her torso before moving it upward between her breasts.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Campbell pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Cam. I still feel it but it’s not a strong feeling and when it does hit harder it doesn’t poke me like it did earlier. I think that Pepto-Bismol you got me is working!” Rachel smiled up at him.

“OHHH YEAHHH!!!” The Salamander shouted and kicked some gravel as he stared down at his cell phone.

“What’s up?”

“Starla just hung up on me!” The Salamander shouted out as he started a trippy snaking dance. “Okay, so your girl hung up on you and you’re dancing about that…did you get to ask her about the directions at all?” Campbell asked.

“Yeah. She said we’re on the right path and the next turn is a right at Thorngson Road. After that I can read the rest of my notes. Starla said it was ‘imperative’ that we stick to these directions. And she said it in a really throaty deep, sexy voice. Then she mysteriously hung up on me. You know what that means? Starla and The Salamander might need a little ‘alone time’ at her house before we all get back on the road!” The Salamander pulled another cigarette from his pack.

“Look, we can’t waste any more time than we already have. We’re going to pick her up and be on our way. The two of you can do whatever you want when we get out to Lake Wippoteka.” Campbell put his hand on the sweat drenched left shoulder of The Salamander’s flannel. “But, these directions are bunk. We could’ve gone down route 50 and been a lot further along than we are now. At the end of the day we’re going realize that this zigzagging around the back roads is just a ridiculous mess and a waste of time!” Campbell waved the papers in the air as he shouted.

“Yeah…alright. At the end the day you’ll realize that Starla’s a right on cool as wind chick! We’re all going to sit down and relax with a few beers. The Salamander guarantees it!”

They took the right hand turn onto Thorngson Road. The single lane gravel road transitioned into a thin two lane jobber with chipped yellow hash marks running down the center.

“You know what? I’m done with these directions!” Campbell tossed them into the back seat as he slowed the car at the next intersection. “The next major road we need after a bunch of crazy, pointless turns is Sylvester. I’m sure we can get there from route fifty and find it in half the time.”

“I don’t think so man! Starla said it was imperative that we follow the directions.” The Salamander spoke in a mocking sexy voice as he leaned over to pick the papers up off the floor. “I cannot keep my goddess waiting. She should not be deprived of The Salamander. Let me give her a call and see if my kabuki ookie lovie snuggles has another way that we can get to her house from route 50. Maybe she’s…” The Salamander pulled out his cell phone and scrolled down to her number.

Campbell put the car in park at the intersection.

“Hey look! There’s some guy hitchhiking up ahead.” Rachel pointed out.

“Dude’s gonna keel over in this heat.” The Salamander lifted his glasses to get a clear view of the man off in the distance.

“We should pick him up.” Rachel stated.

“Really?” Campbell asked as he looked ahead at the man.

“Yeah…The Salamander’s right; this guy could die out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Huh! A busy signal? Maybe she’s trying to call me at the same time I tried to call her. I’ll wait a minute to see if my phone rings.” The Salamander looked up when he noticed the Charger heading towards the old man. “Hey…you guys are not really thinking about picking up a hitchhiker?”

“We need to. There’s not as much as a pole barn that I can see from here. He’ll keel over from a heat stroke if we don’t give him a ride. Since we’re going to route 50 anyway, we’ll just drop him at the first gas station and let him fend for himself there.” Campbell rationalized.

“Hey we need to talk about this. I don’t think I have a Salamander tip in my archives that warns about picking up strange hitchers on rural back roads but there have been a great many horror flicks that have covered that territory and warned about this kind of thing!” The Salamander took his shades off to stare at the beleaguered man.

“Oh, you are such a sissy! He’s as thin as a rail and looks like he’s about 80. What’s he going to do to us…spit out his dentures and gum us to death?” Rachel reached back and pushed the top of The Salamander’s bug-eyed head.

“Looks can be deceiving. Hey…all that I’m saying is that I don’t want Salamander Tip # 277 to be engraved on my tombstone, ‘Salamander Tip #277: Don’t pick up any psychotic back road hitch hikers or you’ll end up like this poor bastard’. Hell…Salamander Tip # 276 hasn’t even been ratified yet!”

“Okay, how about this, if you relax and let us pick up this guy up we’ll ratify your Salamander Tip about the Big Slab Buffet. Deal?” Campbell offered.

“I’m cool with that.” Rachel supported.

“Alright. 276 is in the books. Right on. But, I’m not going sit here in the backseat with that psycho! Ya’ll are whipped cream nutty bonkers if you think The Salamander’s gonna go for that!”

“Okay!!!! I’ll sit back there with you. The harmless geriatric can sit up here with Cam.” Rachel slid her feet into her yellow flops as the Charger pulled up next to the man.

“You want a lift, Sir?” Campbell leaned across Rachel to shout out to the man as he put the car in park.

The man moved his feet in small twisting steps to turn toward the car. His black eyes stood out from behind his scattered grey mane and long, dirty beard. You could hear a distinct creaking of his neck as he nodded. Rachel opened the door and relocated herself to the back seat with The Salamander.

The man got into the car. “Thank you.” He said in a whisper. Campbell shifted the car into drive but held his foot on the brake as he waited for the man to shut the passenger side door. The man just stared straight ahead without moving.

After a couple minutes Campbell looked back at Rachel. She got out.

“Watch yourself, Sir.” She said as she put her hands on the top of the door frame. He did not move as she closed the door while making sure she wasn’t going to pin a piece of him or his clothing.

Campbell took his foot from the brake and pressed the gas. “Not sure where you’re headed Sir but we’re going to give you a ride to a gas station somewhere on Route 50 and we’ll have to let you off there.”

“It’s imperative you stay on path.” The old man paused for about two seconds in between each word. He kept his dark eyes fixed ahead.

“What did he just say?” The Salamander looked over at Rachel.

“I don’t know.” She leaned back and put her glasses on.

The Salamander scooted to the left; he gripped the handle as he pressed the side of his body against the back seat door.

They turned left from the back road onto route 50.

Campbell looked to the right to see the old man squeezing a tight grip on the top of his thigh in the passenger’s seat. The veins atop the back of his reddened hand seemed to be vibrating as he began to tear the fabric of his musty brown slacks.

“Are you okay, Sir?” Campbell asked as he watched what the man was doing to himself.

A loud screeching sound came from ahead. Campbell jerked his head up and centered the steering wheel.

Honking horns along with the tearing of metal and glass shrieked through the air. The truck in front of them swerved before jack-knifing itself. Campbell pounded his foot on the brake pedal and attempted to turn the car away before it slammed into the flatbed trailer. The front end of their Charger pushed in like it was wet cardboard while the long rusted bundle of rebar atop the flatbed pierced through the window just above the dash board and spiked straight through the passenger’s seat.

*****

The waitress set a bowl of mixed fruits in front of Rachel before removing from her shoulder-supported tray a plate of banana and whip-cream covered waffles. She slid it across the table to Campbell. The final three plates from the large oval tray belonged to The Salamander. He inventoried the food as she placed them on the table. Biscuits and Gravy. Check. Silver Dollar Pancakes. Check. Bacon and Sausage. Check. Hashbrowns. Check. Custard filled French Toast. Check.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” The waitress asked as she tucked the empty tray under her left arm and folded her hands.

“My killer Meat Lover’s Omelet seems to be M.I.A.” The Salamander circled his pointer finger above his plates as he looked up at her.

“It didn’t fit on the tray. I’ll have it right out to you Sir.”

“Stupendous!” The Salamander picked up a sausage link and shoved it in his mouth to tear off the top half with his teeth. “So in addition to the hospital denying his existence when Rachel and I were asking them about the old dude, they also told us there wasn’t any blood on the passenger’s seat. They said all that was there was a hole through the seat—about a foot below the head rest. I got the address of the junk yard and a claim ticket. We can go check it out for ourselves. This is soooo cool!!!! We should call Ghost Hunters….see if they want to film a special episode about us!”

The sunlight started to peek through the blinds. Campbell put a fork full of syrupy waffles down to twist the plastic stick dangling from the window top and flip the blinds down—completely blocking out the sun. When he returned to his food the bottom of his puffy black eye was moistened from the tears of pain that had pushed out from the effect the sunlight had on his head. He closed his eyes for a minute. Rachel used her fork to push aside a chunk of honey dew and poke through two grapes—one purple, one green.

“I called Randy and he’s going to let us borrow his truck so that we can still go on the trip. I didn’t tell him that we needed it because you wrecked your Charger. I left that part out. Rach, if your Aunt could run us by his crib instead of bringing us back home we could be there before nightfall and still have a killer time at Wippoteka!”

“I don’t know about all that Salamander. It’s been a crazy last 24 hours. I’m not sure what happened or what is going on right now. I think we need to think about it before we decide to go forward with this trip.” Campbell stated. Rachel abandoned her fork in the fruit bowl so she could put her hand at the back of his neck and circle it from inside the collar top of his shirt to the bottom fuzz of his hairline.

“Well. You guys think about it. But The Salamander is still all in for this trip! I gotta go piss.” The Salamander dropped his fork on top of his creamy hill of biscuits and gravy.

While pulling his cell phone from the front pocket of his jeans he scooted out of the long red cushioned seat. After he jumped up from the booth he slammed into the waitress. She shrieked as the plate of Meat Lover’s Omelet flew into the air before crashing to the floor. A busboy nearby came over with an empty black basin. He put it on the floor next to the disaster.

“Damn!! That looked good too!” The Salamander shoved his cell phone back in his pocket as he knelt down to help the waitress and busboy pick up the scattered chunks of meat, yellow egg clouds and pie slivers of broken plate.

“I’ll bring out another omelet for you Sir.” The waitress stated after they cleaned the mess.

“Bonus!!” The Salamander flipped his phone open as he walked away from the table to the front of Archibald’s.

“How’s your chest feeling?” Campbell asked as he circled the back-side of his fork around the top of what was left of his waffle stack to make sure the banana slices were spread across evenly.

“It’s fine; I haven’t felt anything there since the accident.” Rachel took a quick sip of her ice water before returning to her fruit bowl.

“Did you mention the pain you were having to the doctors at the hospital so that they could at least look at it?” Campbell asked while squinting as much as he could without completely closing his eyes. He wanted to rip the seventies style mini chandelier above them from the ceiling and smash it down on the table top.

Rachel, with a mouth full of a mixture of cantaloupe and strawberries, nodded yes.

“Well…did they find anything?”

“Yeah…they found something, but not in my chest.” Rachel put her fork down and picked up a napkin to wipe her lips.

“What…what did they find?” Campbell paused the fork in front of his mouth.

“They found a baby. We’re two months in.”

Campbell’s eyes shifted from a pencil thin squint to large golf balls as he turned to look at her. Rachel studied his reaction closely before she leaned forward. Their foreheads touched, soon followed by the meeting of their nose tips. They simultaneously smiled before closing their eyes. Campbell wedged his left hand between her back and the sticky red plastic cushion of the booth to pull her closer to him.

“Okay…so I’ve been trying to call Starla ever since we got to the hospital and the chick’s not even answering my calls.” The Salamander announced before he slid under the table to sit across from them. “When I called just a minute ago it says that her number no longer exists. I tell you what; I’m tired of these games!” He picked up his fork and started to scoop up some hash browns. “Looks like The Salamander will have to look at other options for some hot tail up at Lake Wippoteka. Hey! Where’s the waitress at with my omelet?” He looked up to try and find her somewhere around the dining room area. After a minute he picked up his knife and began to cut his silver dollar pancakes into some single-bite squares. “Salamander Tip # 277: DO NOT invite a stripper that you just met to come with you on a killer trip to the lake.”