Oxnard
The first ride picked him up in Santa Barbara, a man on his way to work who'd just rolled a joint and offered the young rider a toke.
“I'm going as far as Oxnard.” he said.
The man let him off on the main drag in downtown Oxnard. He put his thumb out and started singing “Monterey”, by Eric Burton and The Animals. A young woman driving by saw the hitchhiker and said, “That guy’s cute.”
She pulled over and picked him up.
“You looked like you were having so much fun I just had to give you a ride. My name's Doris. What's yours?”
“Byron. I hitched from Vancouver, Canada, on my way to L.A.” he said.
“What are you going to do there?”
“Just want to check it out, explore the city, meet some interesting people.”
“That's cool…wanna get high?”
She pressed in the cigarette lighter, when it popped she lit the joint, toked and passed it to the young man.
“I’m not going very far, but I know a really good spot to hitch outside town. I need to stop where I live and get into my uniform. It’ll only take a minute, then I’ll take you to the spot,” she said.
The car entered a residential area. In a few blocks it turned right and stopped in front of a small ranch style house. The yard was well kept, there were daisies and pansies growing in the garden near the driveway.
“I live here with my aunt, come on in.”
Inside, Byron waited in the living room while Doris went to change. The aunt came out to see what was going on. She saw the young man.
“Hello.” he said.
She nodded to him, then went down the hall to Doris' bedroom. The door was closed. The woman lightly knocked.
“Doris? May I come in?” She could hear her say yes, opened the door, entered and closed it. Doris was in her slip hunting for something in the top drawer of the dresser.
“Who’s the young man?”
“Some guy I picked up hitchhiking.”
“What!? Are you out of your mind? You don’t know him? How could you bring him back to the house? You don’t know what he might do,” said her aunt.
“Relax. He’s okay.”
“How do you know? He might be some kind of robber or murderer on the lose.”
Rolling her eyes, Doris gave her aunt a look.
“Auntie, in that case, better get out there and make sure you doesn't steal the TV.”
Her aunt picked up the note of sarcasm.
“You have a lot to learn about people. You have to be careful, especially nowadays.”
Byron could hear the conversation in the bedroom. He decided it was best to stay standing right where he was and not snoop around the living room. So he took a tour with his eyes: there were family pictures on the fireplace mantel, couch, lazy boy recliner, coffee table, card table in the corner with a jig saw puzzle half assembled, TV, and an old fashioned cabinet Hi-Fi with some record covers on top: Andy Williams and Peggy Lee.
Doris finished dressing. Her aunt waited, hands on hips, glaring at her.
“I’m leaving now. I’ll take the serial killer with me,” she said.
The aunt followed behind her, eying the young man suspiciously.
“Ready?” said Doris.
He opened the door for her. As she exited he noticed Eddie's Diner on the back of her dress.
On the road again Doris laughed, “Sorry, my Aunt was freaking out, my bringing you home. She watches too many soaps, starts to believe she's in one.”
“How do you like being a waitress?” he said.
“You meet a lot of people. Sometimes the tips are good. I came out here to go to college, but dropped out after the first term. I just felt like it wasn't for me. Do you go to college?”
“University of British Columbia,” he said.
“I bet that's a good school.”
“Yes, but I know how you feel about it not being for you.”
She re-lit the joint.
“You're searching, that why you're on this trip?” she said.
“Could be. I'm not sure what I want to do in life, but whatever it is I want to feel it's right,” he said.
“That's what I'm doing, just waiting, thinking, and seeing what comes along, until something feels right,” she said, “I had this friend, you know what she used to say? If you don't know what you want in life then pretend you're dead. Pretend you don't exist, all the pressure's off. Now if you could come back to life, just for the hell of it, what would you like to do? If you could do anything what would it be?”
“What does your friend do?” he said.
“Nothing. She killed herself.”
“Damn! Wow, sorry.”
“I guess she tried to test her theory, literally.”
Just outside of town she found the spot, a few trees for shade and a good sized road shoulder to wait on.
“This is a great place to hitch. It leads to the main highway. You won’t have to wait more than ten minutes.”
“I appreciate your help.” he said.
“Don’t mention it. Good luck.”
“You too.”
She smiled at him. He got out and away she drove waving goodbye.
Soon after, a pick-up truck with two men stopped.
“Put your pack in back.” said the driver.
Byron put his pack in the flatbed. The other man got out and soon he found himself sitting between the two of them. He wondered if this was going to be a bad ride when the driver reached in the ashtray, pulled out a joint, toked and passed it.
“Oh man, this is the third time this morning,” said Byron.
“You complaining?” said the driver.
“No” he chuckled and raised the joint to his lips.
High risk maneuver. I would have declined the ride if I was going to be stuck in the middle… as I sit comfortably in this moment. 😬
;-)😉
@tipu curate
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