The VooDoo Child Pt. 1  

electricbob3 61M
172 posts
3/27/2006 11:18 pm

Last Read:
3/28/2006 7:59 am

The VooDoo Child Pt. 1

I'd snatched a fairly new Fiat Spyder at the New
Years Eve party out in the boonies that the young
couple had taken me to after they picked me up
hitch-hiking. I'd been standing on the side of that desolate two-lane hiway for over four hours
since an old farmer dropped me off and informed me that by taking this road it would save me about 50 miles instead of following the interstate. It was barely 20 degrees outside with a misty, frozen sleet keeping alot of party folks at home.
I accepted the young couple's invite mostly to get warm, eat free food, drink boooze and hopefully get high if it was the right type of
party. I had thirty-seven cents to my name, a worn backpack, an old Alverez accoustic guitar in
it's beat-up case, a Buck Knife that was so sharp you could shave with it, and a hole in
the sole of my left boot that had every pair of socks, all 6 of them, worn through where the
hole in the boot was. I'd collected a mish-mash
mess of junk that I kept in the backpack along with my three jeans and a couple shirts, all dirty now since I hadn't washed myself or them in
at least six days. The sleeping bag tied to the backpack was one I ripped off of a ole hobo while we rode in the same box- car coming out of Bakersfield. He didn't need it anymore, not after freezing to death the night the train rolled through the Sierra Mountains. His merger
collection of items wasn't worth a damn but the sleeping bag was a NorthFace, probably given to him at the Sally.(Salvation Army)
Now, I was cruising right on down the hiway. I wasn't sure yet which hiway or where I actually was but I had a full belly, 2 bottles of Volka and one of Seagrams 7. With a half of tank of gas in the Fiat, and about 2 pounds of meat and cheese that I pilfered from the buffet at the party had me feeling fairly good about an other-
wise empty life. In the backpack was a hefty Piggy Bank I found in a kids room upstairs when I'd used the hosts bathroom to shave and wash up. I'd found a couple of nice shirts and slacks in a closet that I was certain would fit me plus a couple of thick, clean, holeless pairs of socks grabbed from a dresser drawer.
I hadn't planned on stealing a car when I'd walked out the back door of the home with my ill-gotten booty but noticed the large dangling key-
chain hanging from the Fiat's ignition. Now I was
sure glad that I did because the sleet was mixed
with snow and was coming down harder by the mile.
According to the odometer I'd traveled 42 miles
from the party in a somewhat SouthEast direction,
or so I thought that it was southeast but hadn't
been able to make out a road sign in the last hour or so.
The car handled well and responded quickly to the
slightest acceleration but had almost caused me
to hit a ditch a couple of times on the slick road.
I'd only seen one other car and it was at least 2 a.m. now but since I didn't own a watch, and there wasn't a clock in the car, I was just guessing. I hadn't figured out the stereo yet in the dark interior either considering it had taken me all of five minutes to turn the headlights on but having not owned a car in the
last six years and driving few others during that period it was like sitting in a spaceship. Small things, I never worried about stuff like that. I was moving, I was warm, and the swigs of volka were putting a nice buzz on my brain.
As I came over a hill I noticed a cars' flashers
along side of the hiway about a mile ahead. I
eased up on the gas, very gently tapped the brakes to slow down until I rolled to a stop next to the stalled car. I was just barely able to make out the form of a person sitting in the driver's seat. I climbed out of the little sports car as the stranded driver opened their door and called out through the wind. "Thanks for stopping! I was at the verge of trying to walk somewhere for help. It's been so long since I broke down."
The voice was female and very earthy and sensual.
A sixth sense seemed to slither up my spine as I
faltered in my steps around the Fiat and my mind
raced to identify what had caused the feeling.
"Did you run out of gas?" I asked as I came up to where the woman stood huddled in a Navy Pea Coat and stocking cap.
"No, it's not out of gas. I'd just filled up in the town of Ware less than 20 miles back. It has to be the fuel pump or something." She spoke with an air of confidence and intelligence that instantly attracted my curiousity and I strained
hard in the darkness to see what this woman looked like.
"Well, I can get you on down the road to the nearest station or truck stop. You can call a wrecker then, maybe they can even fix the car."
She thanked me with words and a quick squeeze of
my arm with a small gloved hand and started to gather a few items from her car. Since the Spyder
is a two-seater the only place to put anything was in the small trunk or behind the seats in a
narrow open area. We managed to get what she had
grabbed stuffed into the small sports car and as
I pulled away she thanked me warmly for coming to
her aid. I felt hipocritical in my responses of
nonchalance and indifference while I drove a hot
car to her rescue. We exchanged names, hers was
Gloria and mine Tom, or for her information it's
Tom and we each shared a little family history in order to break the ice. Even in the darkness of the cars' interior her eyes seemed to sparkle and shine as she spoke. I could see enough to know that she was a real looker and the jeans she had on fit her like a second skin. She'd been to New Years party too she said and got bored and decided to travel down to Rolla where her youngest brother who lived and attended college.
As we talked I noted the glow of a town's lights
ahead through the night's blackness and would of eased the Fiat into the gas station that was opened except there was a State Trooper and what looked like a County Mountie parked in front of the building.
"Hell Gloria, how 'bout I run you down to Rolla so you can have your brother help out with the
car instead of getting fleeced by some tow truck
driver or Gomer Pyle garage mechanic. Is that ok
with you?"
I caught her smile as she looked at the two cop cars and told me that she thought that it was a great idea and she'd pay for the gas. Was the smile she showed me one of understanding, humor, or relief? I wasn't sure but before I attempted to figure it out she had the stereo going and asked me if she could have some of the volka between the seats. Hmmmmm, she was a regular party-girl and I started to think that this trip could just turn out to be a real enjoyable ride.

Part 2 Coming Soon..........

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