Road Trip

The ceremonies had been boring, to say the least. The foursome attended the event more for their parents’ sake than their own. Unlike many of the other graduates, they used the scholarship money as intended. It wasn’t used for lavish parties or road trips “just ‘cause they could.” It was used wisely for educational purposes. Now it was time to spread their wings and venture out into the world. Of course, each parent stood with pride as their child walked across the stage and accepted the sheepskin that would propel them into the working world. While some hooted and hollered or mooned the group of attendees, our four solemnly received the paper and waved at the audience with no unwanted fanfare. They exited stage right, and immediately disbanded from the remaining students. The act of throwing a mortar board in the air was childish to say the least; they had bigger fish to fry, and couldn’t wait to pack the car and head east into the sunset and try their luck just once.

Each parent greeted and congratulated their child for a “job well done” and wished them well. As a whole, they were extremely disappointed upon hearing that their children were not going directly to work, but rather on some ridiculous vacation across the United States. Muki’s parents were the most distraught. They never took a vacation. They worked seven days a week and felt vacations were only for the selfish. Muki hoped someday they would understand that the flag of Ho Chi Minh and his Communist Party was ten thousand miles away. It was time they too enjoyed the fruits of their labor, but she doubted if they would enjoy such lavishness. Spending money on themselves would probably never occur, but Muki was an American and was going to enjoy her Americanization. She would start a family someday, and they would honor the past of her parents while also forging out and learning everything grand about being an American citizen, without the weight of an oppressive government bearing upon her or her family. It would take time.

Larry’s folks understood the trip without blinking an eye. Larry Senior knew how cruel life could be at times. He clearly remembered the day when Larry Davis of the New York Jets cut his knees out while executing an illegal block for Terrance Williams in the 2000 Divisional Play-off game. Once in the trainer’s room, x-rays indicated a compound fracture of the femur, and a dislodged kneecap. The doctor pumped Larry full of morphine to ease the pain. The MRI the next day revealed an even more gruesome result. All of the ligaments and tendons holding the kneecap in place would have to be completely reconstructed. His days of playing football were over. He would be lucky if he could walk without some type of assistance for the rest of his life.

So, when his son told him and Sandy that he and three other classmates were holding off until August to take up permanent employment, they wholeheartedly agreed with the venture. “Son, you have the rest of your life to work. Have fun and be safe.” Excellent words from a father.

Mom, on the other hand, took a different approach. “Junior,” she said with a stern voice ,“I want you to have fun and be safe like your father suggested; however, I’m not ready to be a grandmother any time soon. Make sure you carry an ample supply of Trojans, for if I receive a call in the fall declaring a child is on the way, I assure you, it will not have a father. Understood?”

What else could Junior say as his father laughed, knowing his mom’s words were not idle threats. “Yes, Mother. No Larry III’s in the near future.”

She kissed her son and stepped back as Dad shook his hand one more time.

“Congratulations Junior. I love you.”

Abdul’s parents were elated with the news of the pending trip (as was the City of University Park). It meant he wasn’t coming home, to possibly pick up where he left off. Many of the faculty inquired as to when Abdul would be coming home. The parents informed the residents that he was going on a summer vacation with his classmates. You could almost see the tension and nervousness leave their eyes with the wonderful news.

Professor Wilburn, Dean of Economics, was the most relieved. He didn’t know how many more potatoes in the exhaust he could handle. He tipped his hat and gladly provided an envelope with $1,000 to further Abdul’s pursuits. It was much cheaper than replacing the exhaust system on his 2014 Mercedes 3000I. “Tell Abdul I wish him all the best in his pursuits.”

Judith’s parents were excited, yet apprehensive of the cross-county road trip. How many times had they seen her explode at the drop of a hat when order wasn’t maintained, and a tightly planned schedule fell apart because of outside incalculable circumstances. The most recent disaster occurred two years ago when she was home for the summer. She had qualified for the final race of the season. Jimmy Smith agreed to be in the pits and provide any assistance she required. The car, a rebuilt 1976 GTO, was ready. Jimmy and his crew checked every possible mechanical item one could think of that might fail—or, so they thought.

With five laps to go, and Judith in a commanding lead, the front tire started feeling loose. She called Jimmy on the com and informed him how the car was handling. He suggested she pull in so they could check it out. She declined and decided to continue the race. Her lead was ten seconds. A pit stop would require a minimum of eleven seconds and the lead. She would push the car forward, and it would yield to her will. With only two laps to go and the championship in her grasp, the front right wheel vibration was increasing with each revolution. It felt as if the ball joints or tie-rods were coming apart. She slowed down entering turn four when disaster struck. The wheel collapsed, sending the car skidding into the wall. Everyone was extremely anxious as the emergency crews descended on the scene. Judith was physically okay—the car was totaled.

That night, as she anguished over losing the race and nursing her newly won bruises, Jimmy told her the cause of the accident. Three of the lug nuts sheared off. She erupted.

“What did you say?! Lug nuts? Lug nuts? What incompetent idiot allowed such a minor defect to cost me the championship? Well? Who the hell inspected the car?” Jimmy tried to get in a word, but she wasn’t finished.

“This is shit, you hear me? SHIT! I lost the race because a bunch of grease monkeys’ heads were so far up their ass, they couldn’t tell the lug nuts needed to be replaced? SHIT! That’s what it is. One hundred percent SHIT!”

No one would ever have guessed the problem because everything on the car was new, even the lug nuts. It would be a few years before they were informed by the manufacturer that they had mistakenly received an improperly labeled shipment of high-performance products from their supplier. The parts house knew the quality was okay for normal everyday driving, but not racing vehicles. The parts shipped would never endure the stress and demands a race car required.

Her parents hoped the kids joining Judith knew what they were getting into.

They quietly hugged Judith as they handed over the envelope. “Thanks Mom and Dad.”

* * *

The four reconvened at Judith’s apartment. They gathered around the worn coffee table, and threw down the envelopes that their parents had given them. Judith sat in the middle of the old sleep bed couch. Muki sat directly across from her on her prized bean bag chair. Larry and Abdul grabbed two wooden chairs from the kitchenette and stared like vultures at the white envelopes.

“Well Captain, shall we examine the booty or just stare?” quipped Abdul.

“Abdul, only you could ruin a moment like this with your not only weak impersonation of James Doohan, but also your juvenile female references. And you wonder why you can’t get laid. Hell, you can’t even find a hooker on Hollywood Boulevard to put up with your bullshit for two minutes. I wonder why?”

Abdul looked at Larry, ignoring Judith’s flattering compliment. “Captain, I suggest the next time you review Star Fleet's Manual on Female Crew mates, make sure you read up on their behavioral tendencies. This one seems to have a screw or two loose. Abdul flashed a smile at Larry. “Aye, Captain, I believe her pending threat would truly upset the time continuum.”

The boys attempted to enjoy the laugh among themselves, until Judith threatened them with a six-inch by one-foot thermodynamics book.

Judith returned Abdul’s smile. “The only thing being interrupted are the few synapse that seem to operate in your pea brain!”

Muki knew this conversation could end in disaster, for Abdul never missed a choice opportunity to jibe Judith. “Come on guys, let’s see what we have. Save the bodily injuries for another day. I don’t think our parents included major medical with the presents.” They both relaxed and moved their eyes to the envelopes. Each graduate chose one and opened it.

When the counting of cash and checks was completed, there was over $20,000 on the table. They were hoping for more, but it was an adequate amount for Vegas. It would allow them to use the additional $10,000 they collectively saved over the last six years for the traveling and sightseeing.

“Okay, when do we leave?” smiled Larry.

“Tomorrow morning. I have a few items to check out with the car. Be back at the apartment at 7:00am sharp. If you’re late, don’t bother showing up.”

6:00am

The morning sun shone brilliantly as it crested the distant tops of the Sierra’s. The air was fresh and cool as the prevailing westerly winds pushed the Pacific Ocean’s crisp, clean scent towards the interior of Southern California. She loved the smell of the salty air as she sat in peace on the balcony savoring her one real vice—freshly ground Colombian coffee beans. Her friends didn’t understand why she was so against Starbucks or any of the other fine coffee houses. She literally turned up her nose and informed them that they wouldn’t know a decent cup of coffee if it were poured down their throat. She couldn’t understand why people drowned the real flavor of coffee with whipped cream, French vanilla, hazelnut, or any other supposedly exotic flavors. Coffee, like a good car, should never be tinkered with. It was a crime to bastardize one of God’s greatest gifts to mankind.

She cringed when she first saw decaffeinated beans, and almost confronted the store manager for such a travesty, until she recalled that one of her dad’s good friends (who had introduced her to the fine beverage) was forced to drop the full-leaded brand for the lesser, based on his doctor’s recommendations. Samuel Goodwin had been struck with a minor heart attack. His doctor told him no more liquor, nicotine or caffeine. Sam could handle the first two, but cutting out caffeine? Not happening. It took a few years for him to enjoy and appreciate the taste of decaf, but he succeeded. He still missed the full flavor, yet he also enjoyed not being in the hospital. It was a small price to pay. She relished the memory of them sitting on her parents’ spacious redwood deck in the morning hours discussing school, politics and cars. And yes, even though she would chide him about his weak coffee, she agreed the trade-off was worth it.

As she smiled and reminisced, the doorbell buzzer blared, breaking the serene morning calm and her few pleasant thoughts. She shuddered at the sound, and thought to herself, I should have disconnected the fucking alarm a long time ago. She stood up and pushed the talk button.

“Who is it?”

“Good morning, Judith. May I enter?”

She glanced at the twelve-inch plastic Stanford clock hanging behind her prized fern. 6:15am. Forty-five minutes to launch. Wish she could have waited another fifteen minutes, she thought.

She hit the unlock button allowing Muki to enter the apartment. I still have a quarter of a pot of coffee to savor before our big adventure starts, she contemplated to herself.

Muki heard the lock unlatch and proceeded to the living room. She threw her worn travel bag onto the couch and directed herself to the kitchen. She knew Judith well enough that she wouldn’t receive a proper salutation. Judith proved one too many times that she cared not for the so-called “niceties” or “proper etiquette.” She was the most beautiful, reclusive woman she knew. Judith’s hard body and flowing brunette hair was all the rage on campus. Many of the boys in her classes severely struggled to maintain their concentration during lectures. She was stunning. How many times did Muki see boys trip and stumble as Judith commandingly walked across campus in an old pair of very short cut-off jeans and a braless T-shirt?

She paid them no mind, and if one was foolish enough to approach her and ask if it were cold outside, they wound up on the pavement with cuts and bruises. Judith was, as some of the boys openly stated between themselves, “That is one bad-ass bitch.” Judith never looked back at her would-be pursuers. She raised her right hand and flipped them off. She could have any boy she wanted, but there was something under her surface demeanor that reflected a violent storm brewing in that beautiful body. Muki asked her once why she was so angry and refused any and all advances. The smile from Judith's face vanished. Her deep green, beautiful eyes flashed red with anger, and she would never forget the words she spoke.

“Look me in the eyes, Muki, and listen very carefully. “NONE—OF—YOUR—FUCKING—BUSINESS.”

It wasn’t the words that shook her up; it was the look of utter hate which boiled in her green orbs that scared the hell out of her. She never again broached the topic.

Muki entered the kitchen, picked up a partially-washed cup and poured herself some of Judith’s “black gold.” She added a few tablespoons of sugar and a dash of milk. Stirring it together, she took a sip and savored the taste. Satisfied it was the correct combination, Judith moved out to the balcony, and took a seat in the cheap plastic patio chair.

“Morning, Judith.”

No response as Judith stared at her cup, taking another deep drink. Her body stirred as the caffeine coursed through her veins, recharging her system while increasing her senses.

“Are you drinking it black or did you pussy out again with sugar and milk? You know, if you’re going to bastardize my coffee, why not go to Starbucks or Quick Trip and quit wasting my perfect brew.”

Muki was used to the accusations, “Because I can’t get this type of superb customer service any other place.”

Judith nodded in agreement, revealing a seldom seen smile.

6:50am

“I bet those juveniles think I’m kidding. They have exactly ten minutes, and we’re gone. I really hope—”

The door buzzer screamed, interrupting the morning serenity once again. Before she hit the talk button, two voices were booming into the speaker. “Ensign, let us in! Let us in! The Klingons and Romulans are at it again. They’ve knocked out the main engines and shields are only 50 percent.”

Judith fiercely pressed the talk button down.

“Shut the fuck up you juveniles, or I swear I’ll leave your asses here.” Nothing but laughter came through the speaker.

“Muki, why did I ever agree to let them join us? I swear, a full month with them? Someone will die before we return.”

Muki could only laugh quietly as she shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, at least the trip won’t be dull.”

Judith spun around and headed to the door. Muki wondered why she didn’t major in psychology and psychiatry. Judith would make the perfect subject for study. It was odd that after all these years, the boys’ humor stayed on the same path, even though Judith would leash her tirades on them. It never fazed them. But if they irritated her as much as she proclaimed, why did she allow them to hang around? Wonder what Freud would think of this peculiarity?

She could hear Judith yelling at the boys as they noisily entered the living room.

“Hey, Judith,” called Larry. “Have any more of that cheap coffee? Abdul was running late and wouldn’t stop so I could buy a ‘good’ cup at Quick Trip.”

The glare she heaped on Larry could have melted an iceberg. She said not a word and pointed to the kitchen.

Larry picked up a dirty cup, snatched a dish towel off the counter and did his best to clean it up. “Don’t want to get any cooties,” came the low words from his mouth. “Abdul, you want some of Judith’s specialty or would it better serve as propulsion fuel for the thermonuclear reactors?”

Before Abdul could respond, Judith picked up a calculus book and threw it into the kitchen. Larry ducked down as it crashed into the refrigerator, knocking off half of the magnets as it fell to the floor.

“Now I know why you gave up softball. Hard to play the game making such shoddy throws.” Larry prepared to duck again for fear Judith would pick up something bigger. Instead, she sat down on the couch and threw him a smile with a one-finger salute.

“Okay, enough of this bullshit,” she commanded. “We have a lot of miles to cover today, so let’s get the car loaded and stop wasting time. I’m ready to try our luck.”

The four finished their coffee, packed the Camaro, and pulled onto I-5. The trip would require roughly ten hours of good, hard driving and schooling in Twenty-One. Plenty of time for Larry to teach the other three the nuances of the game. They weren’t going to deliberately beat the house as the kids in the movie “21” did. Of course, they hoped they’d be lucky and win some money. He convinced them that of the extra twenty thousand, they would hold back five. Judith balked at the idea, but relented that a little caution was warranted. She didn’t want the vacation to be shortened due to a lack of foresight or funds. She was looking forward to seeing Washington D.C. And digging up all the information she could on a certain infamous family member.

Begrudgingly, Judith agreed to let Larry dictate the schedule for the trip. They would drive four hours, then stop for food; repeat the process again, and then spend the last forty-five minutes or so jamming to tunes. This would allow them a chance to relax and recharge. Once they arrived at Caesars, they’d grab five hours of sleep and hit the Twenty-One tables by 2:00am. They would play for six hours and leave whether they were up or down as the winnings dictated.

During the drive, they would attempt to memorize the seven decks of cards he’d prepared. Each knew there were eighty-four face cards, twenty-eight aces and two hundred and fifty-two small cards. Since they couldn’t bring laptops, he used a piece of sturdy cardboard as a table. He would deal out three hands and a phantom dealer. He would then call out the cards being flipped over. Each player would place a bet, and attempt to keep track of the cards being dealt while calculating the odds of obtaining a winning hand.

The first two hours were frustrating to say the least. No one but the house was winning, and winning big. Larry calculated the ‘’house’’ was up $15,000. In two short hours, his understudies were broke! Larry sternly instructed them that they were trying too hard to win.

“The key to the game was staying calm and relaxed. Stop playing poker and start thinking,” were his words of wisdom. “Judith, why in the world would you agree to a hit when you’re holding seventeen?” She was prepared to defend her position until Larry continued his train of thought.

“The dealer was dealt a three. So far, only two face cards have appeared. Muki drew a five and Abdul drew an eight. You were holding seventeen. The odds of the dealer going bust were 80 percent. The small cards have played through. Instead of being smart, you got greedy and went bust. The next four cards were face cards. The dealer would have gone bust, and you would have collected $10,000. Instead, you lost. Stop gambling and start thinking.” All three of them listened to the teacher as he instructed them on how to stay calm and play the game. “Don’t let the game play you.”

The next two hours went much better. The group broke even with small gains here and there. The lure of winning big was still in the back of their minds. Abdul was the next one to feel greedy. Instead of remembering the cards played, he only looked at the ones on the table. His winning hand would have yielded $10,000—instead he was busted.

“Okay, it’s been four hours. Time for a break and something to eat.”

Muki couldn’t believe the time passed by so quickly. “What? It’s been four hours already? Let’s keep driving. I think I’m starting to figure the game out.” Judith and Abdul nodded in agreement.

“No!” demanded Larry. “We stick to the schedule. Judith, find a place to pull off. We all need a break.”

For once Judith asked a question. “Why?” She’d become fixated with the game. Her brain was starting to recognize combinations and the averages of beating the house.

“Because I said so. You see, my small minds, you are developing the gambling bug. Do this at the table and it will be a very short vacation. Now Judith, find a place where we can all decompress and regroup.”

She reluctantly agreed with Larry’s logic and started looking for the blue highway signs on the outskirts of Bakersfield indicating dining establishments.

“Wendy’s okay everyone? It’s the next exit. Speak now or I keep driving.” Wendy’s it was.

They exited the car, only realizing then how tired and exhausted their bodies were. They were all physically and mentally drained from the exercise. Larry was right; they needed the break. They would rest for an hour, not thinking about cards at all. They would only discuss the sights and sounds for each city they’d chosen: Denver, Kansas City, St. Louis, Nashville, and D.C. Any other cities would be a bonus.

For two weeks, they’d poured over the maps deciding where to travel. It would be their only vacation before they entered the real world of the working class, and settled down to what they hoped would be enriched lives. In a methodical method, they picked Denver for the Rockies. Sure, they could see the Sierras which were only a short distance by car, but they didn’t have Pikes Peak, and Mt. Rainier in Washington State was too far off the beaten path, plus Denver was home to the Colorado Rockies and baseball.

During their junior year, the four discovered they all loved baseball. It started with the most unlikely of individuals. Abdul was raving about the errant throw the pitcher Johnson executed, allowing the winning run to score. “What was he thinking? Any little leaguer knows not to make that throw. It cost the Giants the game and a shot at winning the series. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

His comments sparked a debate which put studies on hold for the next three hours, with all agreeing with his assessment except Judith.

“Welch should have held the ball and took his chances with the bases loaded and one out. The defense had been spectacular all night, and could easily have turned two and gone into the bottom of the ninth hoping to break the tie and win the game.”

For Judith, it was her second passion—racing was first and foremost. However, racing didn’t have the strategy baseball lent. Racing is “balls to the wall, fuel consumption, and drafting.” Baseball is a whole different ball game. How many games were watched where a passed ball, an errant throw, or a muffed routine fly ball changed the tempo and the outcome between victor and loser. She loved the thrill of not being able to calculate or foresee the possible outcome. Her partners in crime were also drawn to the game, also for its intricacies and unknowns.

So, Denver was an obvious choice. They would visit Pikes Peak, then catch a Rockies game. Candlestick or Three-Com Park was nice, but the balls didn’t fly as freely due to the atmospheric conditions caused by the cold air blowing in from the bay. Coors Field was known, along with the Ballpark in Arlington, to be a “pitcher’s nightmare” and a “hitter’s paradise.”

Kansas City and St. Louis didn’t offer a lot of sightseeing (with the exception of Gateway Arch) based on the search engines they called upon. What they did offer was more baseball—Royals and Cardinals. Nashville was Muki’s choice. She loved Elvis Presley songs (much to the other’s chagrin) and the history of country music. She convinced the group they needed to broaden their horizons on the music stage and spend at least a full day touring the town and people. Sold!

D.C. It goes without saying that D.C. would become a hub as they ventured up and down the coast

in a fifty-mile radius garnering, exploring, and learning all the history they could about these United States.

“Okay, ready for lesson number two?” asked Larry.

With a definitive ‘yes’, trays were picked up, trash emptied and potty breaks commenced.

Judith asked if anyone else cared to drive. She wanted to sit in the back with Larry and watch him deal the cards. She wanted to be able to visualize each and every combination as they appeared. What? They all thought. Judith was relinquishing control of her prized Camaro? No one jumped at the opportunity. She asked again in a more pleading tone. Larry was the designated dealer and teacher. Obviously, he wouldn’t be driving, so that left Muki or Abdul. Abdul was competent enough if one didn’t examine all the tickets and minor fender benders he escaped from in the confines of University Park. That left petite little Muki.

“Okay, I’ll drive, but I don’t want to hear any comments on my driving skills. We won’t set any speed records. Okay?” The three agreed as Judith handed her the keys and jumped into the back seat. There was another reason she wanted to sit in the back, but that would have to wait.

The next four hours were more intense than the first. Larry only allowed each player a maximum of three seconds to decide if they wanted to raise the bet, take a card, or hold. The pace became maddening as each player called out their moves. Larry kept pushing the game faster and faster. The responses were becoming mechanical. They were playing without emotion or anxiety. The group never second-guessed. He was teaching them how to count cards without knowing what they were doing. He knew if they got on a hot streak, the house might get wise and call their own hand. This he didn’t want to occur. . He decided it would be best to split up into two teams. After two or three hours, if one of the players decided to try a different table, that would be acceptable. But, it couldn't be at a table another pair was playing at. He hoped this provided a low profile in the event one or two of them starting winning big.

Hours seemed like minutes as each decided to hold, pass, fold, or bet. Minutes turned into microseconds with the split decisions Larry was demanding.

“Time!” proclaimed Larry. “Final results for round two – Muki $7,500, Abdul $10,000, and last but not least, yet most irritating, Judith a cool $25,000 – for a collective pocket of $42,500. Well done Ensign, well done. Muki, find a place to pull over. It’s time to recharge for the final push.

“Next stop, according to the sign—Jean, Nevada. Sure hope they have a store. If not, next stop—Vegas.”

They pulled in to what many would consider “a spit in the bucket” of a town. The interstate was hailed when it was first built in 1963. Many of the bordering towns, such as Mesquite and Bunkerville, watched sales plummet as US 90 became obsolete to Californians headed to the lure of vast riches and wealth in the “Oasis of the Desert.” By chance, Jean was dead in the path of the surveyors. The highway department could cut off miles running the new Interstate Highway from Bakersville to Las Vegas by way of Jean. When the plan was proposed, the town council agreed to keep their small, home-town look, and leave the developments and commercialization to “Big Sister.” They would welcome travelers and provide eateries and accommodation for those who were leaving town broke, or needing to gain their misplaced confidence before hitting it big.

Much to their surprise, Jean might look like a hiccup on the map; in reality, it was a town of ten thousand. Muki eyed a truck stop and suggested they eat at the “Trucker’s Diner.” “If truckers eat here, it’s got to be good.”

The three were a bit shocked at the suggestion, yet the parking lot appeared to be full of trucks and the all-hated “four wheelers.” The three would-be patrons voted a unanimous ‘yes’.

Muki nosed the Camaro between a 1995 Porsche and 1960 “tricked-out” Impala. They slowly forced their way out of the car. Muki and Abdul lay down on the cherry-red hood. They were utterly exhausted, while Larry and Judith pulled themselves from the back seat with a renewed vigor. Instead of the training session draining them, it had the reverse effect. Judith wished her treasured Colombian coffee, at nine dollars a pound, could give her the same boost.

Judith took a long healthy stretch (exposing every fine curve of her body), oblivious to the patrons staring out the window at the spectacle. Her full, round breasts and hard nipples were straining to burst through the tight, white T-shirt. Many of the diners stopped to admire the show in place. A spoonful of corn missed the intended mouth, winding up in the owner’s lap. Another spilled tea down his designer shirt, while another voiced all of the other men’s thoughts, “Damn.”

Without an idea of the show she was providing the weary ‛concrete cowboys,’ she declared, “I’m starved. Let’s eat.”

The waitress, a woman well into her fifties and a veteran of the antics of truckers, herded the four to a booth close to her station. She knew how the regulars might react to a bunch of college kids, especially the one who was probably “Miss July 2014.”

“Kids, My name is Katie, and I’ll be your waitress tonight. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. And honey,” her eyes fell on Judith’s, “if I were you, I’d put those puppies on low beam or cover them up.”

Judith glanced down at her chest and blushed just a bit. The last four hours apparently triggered every erogenous zone she possessed. Sure, she engaged in the random sexual act to blow off steam, but nothing ever energized or excited her like the last four hours. Her senses were on high alert, including the eyes she now felt bearing down on her. Her comrades knew exactly what Katie was talking about. Every eye was trained on Judith as they walked to the booth. Judith appreciated Katie’s concern.

“Miss Katie, we’ll be alright, but if we need you, I’ll call.” Without a second thought, Judith stood up eying each man who couldn’t stop staring. The timid ones went back to eating. The married ones asked for their checks and left, yet there were always those who couldn’t get enough.

She addressed the gawkers.”What’s wrong? Never seen a pair like this before?” Before anyone could answer she continued. “From what I’m seeing, the answer is no. And for those who are still having second thoughts, your best dreams will remain that, dreams. So eat your dinner and fuc—”

Larry knew what was coming next. He also knew they were on enemy turf, which Judith was inflaming. Just once, just once, I wish she would think before speaking.

“Honey, that’s enough. Let these nice people enjoy their meal. Please sit down. I’ll go get a sweater from the car.” The words were loud enough for the disenchanted men to hear. He hoped he had calmed the savage beasts. In a voice only Judith could hear as he pulled her back into her seat, he said, “Do you have a death wish? I don’t, so shut the fuck up, okay?”

No one ever talked to her like that, at least not face to face. The sternness of his words and the seriousness in his eyes calmed her enough to sit down and relax. She realized that if she didn’t gain control of her deep-seated anger for the lineage she couldn’t control, she and she alone, would be her own destruction and enemy. It was time to rethink attitudes and actions.

Larry returned in a few minutes with a worn-out Stanford hoodie which Judith quickly put on. He was relieved to see none of the customers had acted on their inclinations or desires. Katie took each order and guaranteed “it will be out in a jiffy.” She motioned for Larry to follow her. He told the others he needed to wash-up before dinner. As he walked towards the restroom (passing by Katie’s station), a hand pulled him to the side.

“Sir.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I was serious about having the food prepared quickly. The only reason a ruckus didn’t break out is that I promised two of the regulars a much-desired date. It calmed them for the moment, but let’s be honest, my body isn’t quite as alluring as your young friend’s. So please, eat your dinner and don’t dawdle. They might regain their confidence, and I don’t think either one us wants an unpleasant confrontation.”

“Thank you…umm…Katie. I’ll make sure we don’t cause a scene.”

Katie winked at him as he continued to the restroom.

Dinner was served in record time.

“Captain,” stated Abdul. “I don’t think the synthesizer is this fast. They must have a warp drive converter in the kitchen.” Larry would usually have enjoyed the joke, but not this time.

“Abdul, shut up and eat.” Larry’s words were threatening.

“And if I don’t follow your orders? Will the safety of the universe be at stake?” Abdul laughed out loud, even Muki and Judith joined in.

“Abdul, just eat,” came the words through clenched teeth. The abruptness of Larry’s demeanor caught them all off guard, and like small obedient children, they lowered their heads and ate.

“Here’s your check, kids. You can either pay me here or at the counter. Whichever is easier.” She winked at Larry.

“Thank you. We’ll pay at the counter.” Larry noticed that even though the crowd changed every five minutes, two men sitting close to the entrance by the window were spending way too much time nursing their coffees.

“Who needs a pit stop before we start the last leg?” The girls chimed in, ‘yes’, and like girls, went together. Larry watched the men as their eyes were none too pleasantly scanning the pair.

“Abdul, let’s go.”

“What? No words of wisdom? No great insight of the universe?”

Larry knew Abdul could go on for much too long with his line of questioning.

He roughly interrupted. “See those two men by the window?”

“The rejects with the plaid shirts and worn-out caps?”

“Yes, them.”

“You afraid the virtue of our women is in jeopardy? I will take my phaser—”

“Shut up, you idiot. I’m serious.” His abrupt response was being scrutinized. Abdul leaned a little closer to Larry.

“Our waitress bribed those two men to leave us alone. Apparently, they didn’t take kindly to some upstart Playmate mocking them in front of their brethren. We need to leave here as soon as the girls return. Understood?”

Abdul looked at the men again and noticed their eyes were penetrating into Muki and Judith as they re-entered the dining area.

“Agreed. Let’s go now.”

The boys slowly rose from the booth without causing concern.

“Okay guys, what’s next? Muki and I aren’t ready to climb back in the car. Since we weren’t allowed to enjoy our meal, we need to get some coffee and diffuse some more.”

“No, Judith. We have to go,” fired off Larry.

What’s wrong with Larry? He is never this demanding, thought Judith.

“No? No? Who the hell are you, to tell me no? You’re not my mother or father. Where do you get off telling me what to do, anyhow?”

Her voice was getting louder as she started berating Larry. “Let me tell you something, you juvenile delinquent, that is my car...”

Larry couldn’t help but feel the eyes (especially the two pairs in question) staring at the four. Katie hurried to the table and offered the regulars a free refill. They declined her request, got up from the booth and started approaching the students.

“...and if you don’t want me to leave your ass in this shit-hole of a town, you’ll show me some respect or I’ll kick your ass all the way back to Stanford.” The men were now three feet from the four.

The largest man, probably in his mid-forties, with a beer belly that would make Miller proud and a physique to match, chimed in. “What’s wrong, sonny? Having a little trouble with your wild filly? My buddy Ray and I got just the cure for breaking her. I think we’ll take her outside and teach her some manners.”

Ray joined in. “Yep, Billy boy and I got just what she be needing to learn her elders some respect.”

“Look guys, we don’t want any trouble. We’re passing through and need to get back on the road.” Larry tried to push by the men, but they set up a formidable barricade.

“Not so fast. We’ll let you go just as soon as we had our dessert.” They stared straight at Judith’s chest.

“By looks of it Ray, I’d say she’s got plenty for each of us. You take the right, and I’ll take the left.”

For the first time in her life, Judith felt true fear. Nothing like crashing in a race car. That came with the sport. This was different. The men were directly threatening to rape her.

“Tell ya what Billy, I don’t mind sloppy seconds, so while you’re knocking her front out, I’ll be in the back getting some of that split end while you bronc and tame them melons. We can test out that new full-sized bed I installed last month in my Peterbilt.”

“Sounds good to me, Ray. We gonna split her real good and maybe teach her a thing or two.”

Katie was attentively listening to the men. She knew they were capable of pulling it off. No one ever stood up to them, and when a police report was filed, no one dared to show up and verify the charges.

“Come on boys, sit down and have some more coffee, let these nice folks go about their business. We don’t want any trouble and Katie can’t wait to be a sandwich with you two.” She hoped her offer was enough to allow the kids to be on their way—unharmed.

Ray glared at Katie. “When we’re finished with her, you’re next.”

Judith’s gut tightened at the thought of being manhandled by them. She was infuriated, yet refrained from inflaming the situation.

The next words spoken were quiet and specific. “Gentlemen,”

“Well lookie here Ray, we’ve got us a little egg roll. Tell ya what, when we’ve finished polishing our rods with ‘Miss July’, I think we need us a slant-eye as an encore.”

“Hell yeah, Billy. I always heard it was horizontal.”

Muki stood her ground.” Will you please let us pass? We have a pressing engagement and would hate to be late.”

“Billy, I’d hate for them to be late so let’s split the egg roll first. Be a good tune-up for the little princess. I bet this one’s so tight, she’ll be screaming for a month.” The men let out a deep, evil laugh as they rubbed their crotches.

Larry attempted to pull Muki back; she held her ground.

Ray attempted to push Larry out of the way. As his hand grabbed Larry’s, a slender brown arm redirected Ray’s hand and arm and spun him 180 degrees. The next few seconds were a blur to the untrained eye. Muki spun Ray around, planting her left hand in his lower back. His size was perfect for the moves the neighborhood kids had shown her. Using Ray as a workbench, she planted her right foot just above Billy’s tibia and shattered the patella. He went down in a moaning heap.

She turned 90 degrees to her left, and let out a small cry as her right elbow crashed into the soft joint between Ray’s radius and humerus. She quickly moved her right foot onto Ray’s right patella and dropped it three inches. She held on to his left arm as his massive weight pulled him to the ground. With one good jerk, the sound of tendons and ligaments snapping was loud and gruesome (it would take more than Tommy John surgery to repair the injury).

Billy turned over, whimpering in pain. “You little Asian bitch; when I get up—”He never finished his sentence as she thrust her foot squarely into the area he had so recently described to her.

Judith, Larry, Abdul and Katie stared in awe; first at Muki, and then at the two not so imposing figures on the floor. Muki took stock of the situation and smiled as if she’d just aced a history exam. “Okay, I think we can go now,” and moved towards the counter.

Larry agreed. “Oh yeah, that’s a good idea. Come on guys, let’s go.”

Katie (in shock at the current events) gladly rang the ticket up and took the money from Larry. She couldn’t help but ask Muki a question.

“Little girl, I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my life, but I’m here to tell ya, that beats all I’ve seen in these parts. Where did you learn to do that?”

“Yeah,” said Judith. “I’d like to know the same thing.”

She looked at her friends then turned to Katie. “Never enjoy the cookie, until the fortune is read.”

“What the hell? Excuse me. What does she mean by that?” asked Katie.

Larry and Judith had a good idea what she meant. In a hushed tone, Larry bent over an inch or two as he handed Katie at ten-dollar tip, “Don’t fuck with an egg roll you didn’t order.”

“Amen to that, Mister. Amen to that.”

Katie turned and picked up the phone and dialed the sheriff’s office.

“Dale, you and Jimmy need to come down here. You won’t believe what just happened. Billy and Ray are messing up my mopped floor and are bleeding all over the place.” A noticeable smiled surrounded her mouth.

* * *

“Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?” queried Judith.

“Yeah,” asked Abdul. “How’d you do that?”

“The streets. Remember, I grew up around the docks, and some of the boys thought I needed to know how to defend myself. Nothing special.” Her modesty was amazing. She single-handedly took down two of the most despicable men in these parts with ease.

“Captain, forget the photon torpedoes, we have Muki power on board.”

The tension was broken, and they shared a good, hearty laugh. At least, Larry appeared to be laughing. All he could think of was how ineptly he’d behaved. He was larger than the assailants, yet he possessed neither the instinct nor the athletic ability to intervene. Hopefully, Judith wouldn’t think any less of him.

“Okay guys, back in the car. In thirty minutes we’ll reach our first destination, and we have one more quiz to complete before testing our new talents. Who’s driving?”

“I am. It’s my car and I need to burn up all the adrenaline pumping through my system. Damn Muki, If I’d known you were such a badass, I might have been nicer when you doctored your coffee.” Muki just smiled.

Judith stopped to fill up the tank then turned her flaming red Camaro on I-15 and pushed the speedometer to eighty. “Okay Larry, what’s the final quiz?”

Expecting some revelation or major final exam that would ensure their success at the tables, Larry pulled out a Marlboro Light (he seldom smoked, but he needed to calm his nerves after the recent encounter) lit it up, took in a deep drag, and slowly exhaled the blue smoke as his body slowed down, “The final quiz...” More of a question than a statement. “Nothing. Turn up the tunes and let it roll, baby.”

The sounds of Bob Seger’s Silver Bullet Band jamming out “Night Moves” filled the car as they thundered north and the sun slowly set behind the Sierras.