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."