Rally Back: Chapter -3

"We're never going to catch them at this rate," sighed Tina as she slumped back into the back seat.

"Not if we keep missing turns," agreed Tom.

"Or moving decimal points," I chimed in.

"Hey, man, shit happened. That decimal point wasn't there before. I swear it."

"Well, the faster we go, the more likely we're gonna get off course again. This rally isn't an amateur event. But slow isn't gonna help us catch them. So, what's it going to be? Fast or slow? Tina?"

"Fast, but without getting lost again."

"Thanks, Tina. That was helpful. How about not as fast as before? Tom?" Tom seemed suddenly engrossed in his rally instructions, flipping pages back and forth.

"Hold on a minute, Pete," was all he could manage.

"C'mon, Tom, what's your vote? Fast, slow, slowly fast, go home, find Tina a new boyfriend, retire on the beach, what?"

Tom looked up at me with a Cheshire Cat grin. "I vote we retire to the beach."

"Retiring on the beach sounds wonderful, but a bit premature. got any other suggestions?"

"No," said Tom, "not on the beach - retiring to the beach. Look. They gave us these pick-up points in the rally package so we could find a place to rejoin the rally if we got totally lost. Well, I checked and the last pick-up point is at a parking lot at North Dennis Beach in Dennis. From the timing they gave, car number 22 should be leaving there at 4:32. That gives us about an hour to get there. then we just wait for them to show up. With an hour, we won't even have to speed to get there."

"That could work. Give yourself a gold star, Tom. One small problem though."

"Yeah, where the hell are we?"

"Right. So what do we know?"

"We crossed over some main road a couple miles back. The route instructions don't say what it was but we could go back and look for a sign. Then we could check the map."

"That works for me," I said. "Let's do it."

Tina cleared her throat. "I have an idea."

"Does it involve violence?" I asked.

"Very funny," Tina answered. "Why don't we just ask that guy?"

"Ooh," I said. "Good suggestion, lady." I glanced at Tom and winked the eye she couldn't see.

"I don't know," said Tom. "He probably knows how to get there, but it's against the rules."

"The rally rules cover asking for directions?" asked Tina, taking the bait.

"No," said Tom, maintaining a straight face better than usual, "but manly rules do."

"Okay," I interrupted. "We can ask, but be brief. We have a code to uphold."

"We could be taking a big risk. I'll disguise myself," said Tom. With that, he turned his cap around so the brim was in the back. "He'll think I'm just some fool kid who hasn't passed the initiation yet."

"Or a Canadian," I added.

Tina was beginning to doubt us, but maybe not. "What's the initiation?"

"They stomp on your nuts," said Tom, turning his head toward the window to conceal his barely controlled amusement, "and they threaten to do it again if you ever get caught asking for directions. Then you turn your hat around so the brim is in front. It's like the tassle thing at graduation."

"Really?" said Tina. She seemed to be buying the whole thing. Or faking it.

"Okay,Tom," I said. "Go ahead and ask, but try using an accent. A southern one might confuse him."

"You guys," Tina squealed. "I'll ask, okay?" We pulled up to the guy's driveway. He was working some blacktop patching material into some cracks in the pavement undoubtedly caused by frostheaving. Tom rolled down his window and Tina sticks her head over Tom's right shoulder and says, "Excuse me."

Tom looked over at her, pulling his head back a bit since she was so close. He then turned to me. "She smells nice," he said with a boyish grin. Tina turned and gave him a smirk that he couldn't see.

"She's a girl," I said. "They have a code too."

Tina turns back to the guy. "How do we get to North Dennis Beach in Dennis from here?"

The guy looks into the car at Tom and I, as if to say, "What's up guys? Girl gotta ask for directions for ya?" I smile. Tom shrugs.

"Sure," he says to Tina. "Go back that way a couple miles, turn right on Route 134 and when you get to 6A turn left. After a couple miles, you'll come to an island on the right. Turn right before the island and go about a block to Beach Street, and follow that down to the beach. Got that?"

Tom had been scribbling furiously on his scratch paper. "Raht on 134, leyeft on 6A, raht at island, raht on Beach Street, then strayet to the beach." The accent was pathetic.

"That should do it," he said. "You take good notes."

Tom looked up at him and said, "Ah make good grits, too. Bah!" And he rolled up his window.

"Nice try, Tex," I said.

"Yup."

"You guys are too much," muttered Tina.

It took only ten minutes to find our way to the beach parking lot. The guy's directions fell a little short of rally standards so we had to make a couple reversals, but we got there with time to spare.

At the entrance to the parking lot we passed a car near the entrance, which might have been the rally checkpoint team setting up for the arrival of competitors. Otherwise,the parking lot was empty with only a few seagulls wandering the beach. At this time of year there was little for them to find to eat here. The only other person around was a woman walking her dog along the beach about a hundred yards away. That's when Tina's cell phone rang.

She looked at the display and wrinkled her brow.

"What the fuck! That's his fucking home phone number."

Rally Back: Chapter -2

"Roger! Where are you? We're waiting for you. You've been making me crazy!"

Tina wasn't holding anything back. If the beach had been crowded as it would have been on a summer day, everyone would have turned to look, or at least listened intently and discretely. Today I think only the seagulls took notice. Tom and I looked at each other and Tom rolled his eyes. I gestured with my head that we should move away a little and give Tina some space, but the way she was carrying on, space wasn't going to keep us from hearing.

"You're where? That can't be. We've been chasing you all day." Tina looked perplexed, more so than we'd come to expect.

"No, I'm not in New London. I'm on Cape Cod, waiting for you to show up." She turned to look at us and was frowning with confusion.

"Sailing?! Sailing?!! But you were supposed to be on this stupid rally today. The entry list has your name on it."

"Omigod! Do you mean you aren't with Kevin?" Tina seemed a little slow to catch on. But I was intrigued. We'd pissed away half the day, and of course any chance of doing well in the rally, to find this guy and now it turns out he was apparently off sailing somewhere all day instead. No wonder he hadn't been answering his cellphone. But how was Tina going to handle this?

"Roger, I can't believe you put me through this." Tom's eyes rolled so far back into his head that it looked like he didn't have pupils.

"Roger, who is with Kevin?"

"Betty. Who is Betty?"

"His wife? That idiot? No wonder they got lost. That fool couldn't navigate her way out of a Ladies Room."

"Well, now I know a lot about navigating. I've been watching Peter and Tom for the past couple of hours, that's how I know. And Tom is really good." Tom didn't roll his eyes at that one.

"Tom and Peter are these two wonderful guys who helped me find you. Well, we thought we were about to find you. And then, then you show up in New London. I can't believe you are in New London. Roger, why aren't you here?" She was changing color, so to speak. She'd gone from angry at his unexplained absense to somehow sad that she was separated from the guy she'd dumped only the night before.

"Roger? Will you come back to me? I want you back. I've been miserable not knowing where you were all day."

"Uh oh," I thought. This is turning in a direction that smells of schizophrenia. Tina seems already plagued by neurosis, so another psychosis is like putting icing on cheesecake.

"Roger, there's just one thing. You have to stop looking at other women."

"No, I mean it. Aren't I attractive enough for you, Roger?"

"She makes a good point." says Tom. I grab Tom's arm and gently ease us away from this continuing drama, still not fully out of earshot of this fascinating interchange.

"I can't help but wonder how this day started out for Tina. Did she wake up with an overwhelming need to see this guy and apologize for trashing him last night, or did she call him this morning to trash him some more, and when she couldn't reach him, she got concerned about him?"

"My money," responded Tom, "is on the latter. What about you?"

"I'm undecided. She like the wind. One minute it's blowing from over here, and the next it's coming from over there. I think she's suffering from a defective regulator, biologically speaking."

"Are you thinking blown gasket?"

"Nah, that would be fairly consistent. I'm thinking something more like a low transmission fluid level. You know, just difficult some of the time, but a real annoyance often enough to make you crazy, and eventually very expensive to fix."

"I once had an old Plymouth that had a sticking throttle. Is that what you mean?"

"I think you nailed it, especially if it ever caught on fire."

"It smoked a lot."

"Good enough. So our Tina is a cranky old... What year?"

"It was a '63 Belvedere."

"Ooh. Seriously ugly car. Maybe it's not a Tina. Did you ever have a Jaguar that caught on fire?"

"No, but I see where you're going. So Tina is the human equivalent of a British sports car. Good looking but unpredictable, and volatile. Aston Martin?"

"Lotus, I think. More fragile than even a Aston Martin, but racier."

"Gotcha. Speaking of Lotus Tina, what are we going to do with her?"

We turned to watch Tina. She was still visibly animated, but there was a transformation underway. Her gestures were less severe and her tone was softening.

"I think we're witnessing a conversion, my friend, Tom," I said. "She looks like she's headed for a reconciliation."

"I don't care. She's probably more entertaining when she's pissed off. A happy psychotic is a dull psychotic."

"Let's see if we can get her moving. Hey, Tina," I yelled, "Can we wrap this up?"

Tine turned and scowled at first, then seemingly realized that we were not some irritating onlookers, but were instead her ride home.

"Roger, honey," she said into the phone, "Can you hold on a minute? Thanks, sweetie."

Turning to us again, the light side seemed to triumph over her dark side. "Can you two wait a couple minutes? Roger and I are trying to work out some stuff."

"Tina," I said, "It's been a really interesting day, but Tom and I want to get it over with. Please tell Roger that you'll call him back as soon as you get back to your car." I wondered if this would set her off, but she stared at me for a moment and put her phone to her ear.

"Roger, can I call you back in a few minutes? Okay. Don't disappear again."

"Peter," she said, "Let's go then. I've got to get back to Roger before he regains his wits. I'm not at all sure he's convinced to come back to me."

"Gee, Tina," said Tom, "Why would he want anyone else? You're a real catch." Maybe Tina would buy this but I could hear Tom's veiled sarcasm. Tina didn't even seem to hear it.

"Everyone in the car," I said. "Sulu, chart a course to Tina's car."

"Aye aye, Captain," Tom responded.

"Scotty, give me warp factor 4." Being a fictional character, Scotty didn't respond.

We got back into the car and headed for Barnstable. It was a short hop to Route 6 and then about 20 miles south and west before exiting the parkway. Tina was almost silent, seemingly lost in thought. I tried not to imagine what was running through her mind. That could be scary.

By the time we got to Tina's car, which miraculously hadn't been ticketed despite being parked illegally for five hours or more, it was getting dark. We pulled up next to her car and we all got out.

I pulled the plastic Luger out from under my seat and twirled it on my finger. "Tina," I called to her as she rounded her car, "Do you want your gun?"

I sent a stream of liquid in her direction, hitting her in an arc across her chest.

She looked down at her shirt and then slowly looked up at me, without batting an eye. "I'm in a very fragile state right now. I feel like I could fall apart any minute. And you shoot me with dirty water. If this shirt is permanently stained I may have to have you killed. I may do it myself. I know your names. I'll find you."

Sensing a different personality at work, I responded, "We didn't give you our real names."

"I didn't tell you I'm a lawyer," she proclaimed.

"I didn't tell you I'm a professional hitman," said Tom.

I turned and shot Tom between the eyes with a stream of water. "You were a professional hitman."

"Bastard!" Tom gasped as he clutched his head. "How will my family survive?"

"You guys!" said Tina. "You've been great. You gave up your rally for me and you're still making jokes. Do you have any brothers? Single ones? Young single ones?"

"I've got a son," said Tom, "He's fourteen, so I'm sure he'd go for you. Of course he's swimming in hormones, so he's not a good indicator. I think he'd paw his grandmother if he didn't think she smelled like a pharmacy."

"Tom," said Tina, "You really know how to charm a lady."

"It's a gift."

"It's not a very good gift, Tom," I said. "Think about returning it."

Tina blew us each a kiss, got in her car, fired it up and drove away. We got back in the Honda and headed to Route 6 and back toward Orleans.