Doctor Lovebeads by Gary Reilly

Author:Gary Reilly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: comedy, humor, taxi, denver, cab, taxi driver, cab driver, gary reilly, murph
Publisher: Gary Reilly

Chapter Twenty

The smile faded from Peter’s face. The air got chilly. Dark clouds flooded the sky. Lightning crashed. Okay, I’m kidding about sentences two through four, but that’s what it felt like. The hippie in the pickup sat up straighter. I expected to see the barrel of a long gun appear. Come to think of it, I wasn’t kidding about sentence number two. The air definitely got chilly.

“Maybe you better leave,” Peter said.

“I was told that this place was run by a guy who calls himself Brother Chakra,” I said. “I’d like to speak with him.”

“Hey man, why don’t you hit the road?” Dennis said, striding toward the gate with his arms held away from his sides like a gunslinger.

Maybe it was the fact that I had served in the army and had almost thirty minutes of judo training under my belt—or maybe it was the fact that there was a gate between us. But for some reason I wasn’t intimidated by his sudden approach. To be honest, it was probably the fact that he was skinny. I’m not exactly skinny. “Exactly” is the operative word there. I was being honest when I said I wasn’t healthy. My beer belly alone could underwrite a health ranch.

“There’s nobody here by that name,” Peter said, smiling that winning Race With the Devil smile. Or maybe I’m thinking of Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry.

My Univac went into high gear. I realized they were holding all the cards. Janet and Vicky were there, I was certain of it, which meant if I threatened to call the police, or even got into a scuffle with the Hopper hippie, it could mean trouble for the girls. The chill of the Rocky Mountain air began to seep into my heart. I realized I had made a truly terrible mistake. I had come to this place thinking I could contact two teenage girls utilizing the sort of bluffs I had perfected as a cab driver to increase the size of my tips. Which is to say, I had come here without a plan.

There was a moment of impending violence. All of us were connected by violin strings stretched so taut that the slightest pluck could result in a calamitous version of “Flight of the Bumblebee.”

I smiled.

“Okay,” I said. I realized now that I should have just passed my information along to Duncan and Argyle and let them handle it: Janet and Vicky are at the Smith Ranch in Boulder. What made me think it was my responsibility to talk the girls into coming home? Am I responsible for every life I ruin?

“No problem,” I said. “I’m leaving. I just wanted to make sure Janet and Vicky are all right.”

Peter raised his chin ever so slightly. He gave me a brief and friendly wave. Was he trying to tell me that the girls were all right, or was he just nudging me along? It didn’t matter. I didn’t need a nudge. I stepped back to my heap and climbed in.

I closed the door, started the engine, and whipped a u-ey.

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