Left Behind Ch. 01

He got the message and staggered away. The amused young waitress, whose name tag said LaVonne, walked over after he oozed out the glass door. "You don't put up with Teddy for long, do you? I ain't never seen him get so discouraged so fast." Her afro bounced when she shook her head. "I'll have to tell my girlfriends about using fancy footwork on him. That does the trick! Like a refill of decaf? Go ahead, top it off, the boss ain't here."

Rosa splashed amber tequila into both hers and LaVonne's cups. They toasted the night and the road.

"You ready to sleep yet? Hang on while we close up here, then I'll walk you to your room. Teddy might still be out there, watching, so you best not go alone. He ain't right in the head. Mostly harmless, but ya never can tell..."

The clock pointed nearly at midnight when they walked across the parking lot to Rosa's room. LaVonne stopped her at the door. "You like a friend, maybe? Or at least some talk? Maybe more?" her fingers brushed Rosa's cheek. "You're a hot lady. I could make you happy."

Rosa was tempted, and conflicted. She had not tasted a woman for a while, not since that trip to Acapulco. She was tired... but what had Teresa said? "Old Rosa has to be gone. Paint a picture of the new you, and live it." Who was the new Rosa?

The new Rosa said, "I'm tired, and I'm grubby, but I'm lonely. You up for a shower?"

Their bodies bumped as they sudsed and lathered and scrubbed and laughed and kissed under the flowing water. They bumped more as they dried each other, and kissed. They intertwined on the not-too-stiff basic bed. Their 69s were more than satisfactory, and not too loud. Their fingers worked magic too.

Rosa woke at dawn with LaVonne's lean ebony face next to hers on the pillow and with a bladder full to bursting. Hop to the bathroom, fast. Hey, this is how it started yesterday, she thought as she drained and sighed, but now I can look forward to cleaner toilets.

LaVonne took Rosa's place in the bath and then crawled back into bed with her. Their black and tan bodies intertwined like dust-devils in a slow, sensuous vortex. Rosa cried when LaVonne's mouth and hands threw her over the edge into ecstasy. She returned the favor, with similar results. They kissed-away the shared smoky and spicy nectars from their flushed faces.

"I got to get home," LaVonne said. "Good thing I live close, just down at the other end of the motel. But after I dress, let's have breakfast, okay? And, are you in a hurry to get anywhere? Oh, that's right; you have a deadline with the car. Think you'll ever come back here?"

"Sounds good to me," Rosa said. "Sorry I can't stay, yeah. Come back? It could happen, but I can't make any promises." I cannot tell her I will never see her again, she thought; I will just say hasta luego, until next time, and not adios, farewell.

LaVonne was not fooled. Maybe she was not yet twenty, but she could read the signs. Their breakfast chat avoided details; their farewell was bittersweet.

Rosa checked her phone before changing SIMs. Still no calls! It was the next fucking day already, and nobody missed her yet! Those turds! With her phone newly programmed, she thought to call Serena to warn of her arrival. Hmmm, no, it's still early on the Pacific coast; I'll call later, she thought.

*****

On The Road, Day 1 - from Austin, Texas

*****

Rosa was well-rested for a long day's drive. She plotted her route westward through San Angelo to Roswell, New Mexico, home of history and art and UFOs. Whatever. The map showed a nearby state park. I will see how I feel when I get there, she thought; maybe I will sleep in the car, save money.

She loosened up for today's journey. Her business-grade skirt-suit, so 'necessary' for visiting Roberto's stuffy relatives, hung tidily on a hanger in the door behind her. She wore a white blouse with floral embroidery, a knee-length denim skirt, her comfortable sports shoes, and wraparound sunglasses and a straw cowgirl hat when out in the sun. Even without showing acres of skin, she felt sexy. Her silver-turquoise-coral-obsidian Navaho bracelet and squash-blossom necklace sure helped. So had the night and morning with LaVonne. She remembered the touches and tastes, and shivered.

The driveaway SUV was lazily devouring the flat Texas miles west of San Angelo when Rosa called her cousin.

"Hello, if you're trying to sell me something, go away." (pause) "Well?"

"Hi Serena, it's Rosa, y'know your older cousin? The dull one?"

"Rosa! Hi there! I didn't spot your number. What're you up to?"

"Well, that's kind of a long story. Would you mind a visitor in a couple days?"

"Yeah? You're coming all the way here to Petaluma from Guadalajara? Need a little change of scenery, huh? Or maybe just some fresh eggs?" Serena's voice teased.

Author's note: Petaluma, California, known to locals as Chickaluma, was famous long ago as the Egg Capitol of the World, even shipping hen fruit daily to London, England for Queen Victoria. The economy has since diversified.

"Not from Guadalajara, exactly. The family, we had two minivans, we were visiting Roberto and Ernesto's people in Texas, and heading home, and they forgot all about me."

"Forgot you? How? What happened?"

"We stopped at a lonchería in Corpus Christi for coffee and sodas and a piss break yesterday morning, and they left me there! Drove off without me! And they never called me! Not even today. I switched phone cards this morning. I figure, if they don't miss me by now, they'll never notice that I'm gone. And I can do very well without them, thank you very much."

"Wow! So, what, you're coming here from Texas? How?"

"Yeah, I'm coming your way, if you'll have me, that is. I got a driveway car, a Ford Explorer that has to be transported to Oakland, right near you. I'm out in the middle of West Texas now. I've got to deliver the car in four days so I'll see you around then. That okay with you?"

"Sure, four days, yeah, that's after the weekend. Let me know when and where you are in Oakland and I'll come pick you up."

"Great! I really appreciate this, mija."

"¡No hay problemo! But you've got to tell me everything. There's a whole story behind this, isn't there? C'mon, confess!"

Rosa laid out her tale of woe. The years of disrespect from everyone; total disregard for her and her feelings and wants; the orders and indifference; and the final insult. It all sucked.

Serena clicked in disapproval. "Those pig-fuckers! Yeah, you were left behind, and you're right to be breaking away. If they get in touch with me, you want me to say anything? Truth or lies, your choice."

"Well, let's see IF they call, and WHEN, and WHAT they say, if anything. How about this for now? You haven't heard from me, haven't any idea where I am, no se. If they really want me, they'll have to work at it. We won't make it easy for them."

"You got it!. Hey, I'm at work and I have things to do. Call me this evening, okay?"

"I sure will. Love you, prima mia!"

"Love you too, girl. Get here safe."

Rosa felt better now than in a long time. She knew she could depend of Serena.

She sorely missed her own family, her parents and both sisters. They had traveled in the south just three years before. Driving through Guatemala City, a sinkhole opened under them and swallowed them whole, straight down its fifteen-meter (fifty foot) deep gullet. And Roberto's family laughed about this! Such disrespect!

The more she thought of their reaction, the more she knew she made the right move. They dared to look down on her? Ha! They were not worth her time or tears.

High plains, clouds, and hours drifted past her. She stopped for coffee - but not too much. She sang to herself, and dreamed of California, and cursed her husband's feckless family - but not too much. She tried to stay alert and calm.

Rosa listened to radio news reports of the usual shit, and changed to music stations playing the usual shit, and gave up. She had no stomach for USA talk radio's extra-ordinary bullshit. Did lunatics run the asylum here? In Mexico, at least, it was pretty easy to tell which cartel ruled any locality. The USA's situation was much messier.

Everyone in Mexico knows they live in a police state, she thought. Gringos live in one too; they just do not know it.

West Texas was a flat plain cut by sporadic rivers. The whole state was really only dried alluvium, just mud and dirt washed down from New Mexico's lofty mountains. If New Mexico was ironed flat, she thought, it would be much bigger than Texas. Not many Texans acknowledged this truth. They really are dumber than rocks, she thought, and smiled to herself.

Only a pitted sign marked the state border; the plains remained the same, and the Rockies remained invisible in the distance. The fat red sun was setting as she rolled on the rough road into Bottomless Lakes State Park and found a good waterfront site. She lit a campsite fire grill and heated canned stew in her little mess-kit. For dessert, she brewed a big cup of cocoa, liberally dosed with tequila.

As promised, she called Serena. Nothing new to report, but they had a good chat.

Rosa unrolled her thick sleeping bag on the camp table and lay back to watch the stars and think and sip more spiked cocoa. The stars in the skies are like people, she thought, mostly fixed in place. But some are wanderers and satellites, always on the move. And some flash bright as they zip past, those shooting stars whipping across the night sky... as they burn up in the atmosphere. Have I fallen from my orbit? Am I a meteor fragment? Will I burn up, too?

Her cup was empty. Her eyes were closing. Wrong place to sleep, she thought, and moved the sleeping bag and herself from the camp table to the SUV's rear compartment. She locked the doors, rolled the windows down slightly, and slept.

*****

On The Road, Day 2 - from Roswell, New Mexico

*****

Sunrise in her eyes served as a silent alarm clock. Wake up, girl! Stretch, not too crinky, and slink over to the camp shower. Slide into fresh clothes: pink bra and thong, loose ruby tee, same indigo skirt. Slurp a cup of instant coffee with a splash of tequila to cut the harshness. Munch a granola bar to tide her over till she could stop for breakfast. Drive back out the rough road to the highway, heading northward, onward.

I'm disappointed, Rosa thought after driving through Roswell and beyond. No aliens abducted me or probed me or anything fun like that. Roswell? Big fart.

The morning's drive took her across the dry high plains to Las Vegas, New Mexico, below the looming Sangre de Cristo range, and to the Interstate highway, no longer avoidable. A thin young blonde woman at the on-ramp held a DENVER sign. The agency guys had warned Rosa: NO HITCHHIKERS. But she looked safe to Rosa: groomed, in clean-looking jeans and fleece pullover, with a bright forest-green backpack. Rosa pulled up to her.

"I'm going to Denver too. Throw your pack in back and let's go. I'm Rosa."

"Great, thanks! My name's Ally. I'm just coming up from Albuquerque. Where you traveling from?"

"Houston, right now. What's happening for you in Denver?"

"Oh, work, this and that." They talked about everything and nothing.

Midday traffic was light; they had the northbound lanes almost to themselves. Pampas grass along the roadside waved in the dry wind like Afghan dogs' feathery tails. Jets high overhead left widening criss-crossing contrails. The SUV's tires hummed softly over the sun-glared asphalt.

Ally interrupted their conversation. "Right now, before we go any further, you should take the next off-ramp."

"What? Why should I do that?"

"Because if you don't, I'll shoot you." Ally pulled a small .32 caliber automatic pistol from her pullover's pocket.

Rosa looked at Ally, stunned, and then laughed. And then hit the Ford's brakes, hard. Ally had not bothered snapping the shoulder harness. Her head bounced off the dashboard, hard. The pistol fell from her hand onto the floorboard.

Rosa braked again and swerved off the roadway under an overpass. She reached across Ally's semi-conscious body and pushed the passenger door ajar, then shoved her out onto the gravel. She gunned the engine; the open door slammed shut as she sped off.

Adrenaline sang through her blood. All colors were brighter; all sensations, sharper. She felt her skin glow, hell, she almost radiated! She laughed. That crazy puta! Thinks she can rob a woman who knows how to drive in Mexico - HA! What a fucking amateur! Rosa hummed a song of victory.

She calmed herself, took deep breaths, counted back from ten, and threw Ally into her mental cesspool. Suck that shit, you whore, she thought.

Hmmm, what comes next? She looked at the dashboard - Ally's head did not seem to have left a dent. And no bloodstains; good. Where is the pistol? Ah, on the floor right there. She glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw Ally's backpack - look at that later, she thought. So what could happen now? If Ally tells a cop she was robbed and dumped, and they find me, well, I have her pistol here, and I have not touched it, and it has her fingerprints on it, so I can prove that she tried to rob me. I will not worry as long as I do not touch the pistol. Easy. Well, maybe I should at least put it in a plastic bag. Just do not touch it with skin.

And now what? Her body and mind slowed as the adrenaline burnt off. She felt tingly and tired. This will not be a good night to sleep in the car, she thought, and no way am I going to Denver. She left the freeway in Pueblo and found a cheap motel on an old highway at the edge of town.

Without touching the pistol, Rosa wrapped it in a plastic grocery bag and shoved it under a car seat. She hauled Ally's backpack into her room. A bit heavy, hmmm. She checked the external pockets. Canteen, snack bars, pill bottles. Ewww, dirty underwear in that pocket! Maps, a Gideon's Bible, a scrawled notepad. A digital camera, batteries, various chargers. An iPhone. Another iPhone. And another. How many did that girl need?

Rosa thought, multiple phones - I bet I will find some surprises in here.

She dumped the main compartment's contents onto the bedspread. ¡Caramba! Besides wadded clothes, a treasure trove was revealed. A half-dozen wallets. More cameras, phones, other electronic gizmos. A couple dozen socks stuffed with cash, jewelry and gems, heavy gold chains, hunks of turquoise, and other valuables. Two more pistols. Some small carvings. Miscellany.

Damn, that girl had been busy! Rosa wondered how many armed robberies were represented here. This was some serious shit! And she did NOT want to be caught with stolen property.

What to do? She cannot turn this over to cops - must stay unseen, leave no traces. She cannot buy her way out of trouble here like she could in Mexico. Maybe... okay, how about this? Pull out the cash and other anonymous valuables like those gold chains. Put everything else back in the pack; leave the pack outside a bar down the block. This is a scruffy part of town so it would not last long. Adios, evidence.

The pistol in the car? Leave it for now, to prove she was a victim. If questioned, she could say she ditched the pack by the roadside after dumping the would-be robber. She would have a lot of cash to explain... so, avoid being stopped and questioned. Drive carefully! No speeding or illegal turns. Be invisible.

Ha, she thought. I've been invisible to my own family. Vanishing from cops' eyes should not be difficult.

She thought further, and walked to a nearby convenience store. Yes, they sold latex gloves and microfiber cloths. Back in her room, she gloved, and carefully wiped all she had touched. An imperfect fix, but at least she would leave no fingerprints. She sorted out the items to keep and shoved everything else back into the pack.

Still gloved, Rosa threw the pack in the Explorer, drove down the alley behind the motel, nonchalantly pushed the pack out beside the bar's trash cans, and drove on. A simple dinner - Cantonese, for a change. No friendly waitress. No companionship. Just herself and her thoughts.

*****

Back in her room, Rosa poured fresh orange juice to flavor the tequila. She dug out the packets from Ally's pack. About a pound of plain gold chains, she guessed, worth around US$25,000. Wads of greenbacks that she estimated at over US$20,000. A kilo or so of turquoise chunks; she was a sucker for those stones but had no idea what they might be worth. She had discarded all the electronics, wallets, credit and ATM cards and ID, jewelry pieces, anything that could be identified. She had more than enough now.

Rosa picked up her reprogrammed phone and put it down again. I should check the news before I call Serena, she thought. She opened her new ThinkPad and found the motel's unsecured WiFi signal. The lack of security was no problem - she browsed through an anonymizer website. Googling her name turned up nothing interesting. She navigated to the family store's site and checked the secure finance pages. Yes, her withdrawals were recorded, and those accounts were locked. So, they did not want her to have any more cash. Imagine that! She smirked sardonically.

She speed-dialed her cousin.

"Hi Rosa! Where are you now? What's happened today?"

"I'm south of Colorado Springs; I should make it to around Salt Lake by tomorrow. Hey, LOTS happened today, but I can't talk about it now. That'll have to wait till we're in person. I'll just say that I'll be REAL happy to reach California in a couple days."

"Can't talk, huh? Was it man trouble? Or Roberto trouble? Not that Bobo isn't a man, I mean, but..."

"I know what you mean! And no, no man trouble; woman trouble, if anything, but I really can't say more about it. Look, I checked online and I don't see any search going on for me. Has Roberto or anyone called you?"

"Nothing yet. I'll call you if I hear from them. Say, you aren't in any legal trouble, are you?"

Damn, Rosa thought, she must be telepathic or empathic or something, picking up vibes. She did not answer.

"Oh. Something you can't talk about, right, Rosa? That's cool."

Rosa tried to sound confident. "No, the law isn't after me; at least I don't think so. I tapped the family accounts for some effectivo, sure. But I'm an owner there, so it's my cash and there's nothing legal they can do. That doesn't mean Roberto won't lie about it."

"I hear you. What a prick! Hey, I really look forward to seeing you again. It's been, what, five years? I came down to Tucson to see your folks. You and your sisters were there, and we laughed so much. Damn, I sure miss them all! You've never seen my place up here, have you? I work in a data center in a business park, but my condo is next to an old oak grove with horses everywhere and vineyards on the surrounding hills. Feels real good here."

"Sounds nice. Sí, I can't wait to get there. So tell me - what's your life like? You know, the more often we get together, the less shocked we'll be to see how much we've changed."

They talked for another half-hour. Serena finally let her cousin hang up.

Rosa mixed more tequila and orange juice to lubricate her thoughts. She leaned back in the motel's pink plastic chair and considered her options.

She had over US$60,000 in cash and tens of thousands more of other valuables in her daypack. She did not need to be super frugal now. But she was no spendthrift; she had no inclination to burn through money. And she had no easy way to change her mode of travel. Abandoning the driveaway car was out of the question, not when the agency had her license and passport numbers. She could not take rooms in better motels; they demanded credit cards.