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"Malibu"...
L.A. was in my rear-view
mirror...Dallas was in Jake's...of course, neither of us knew each other at
the time. I wasn't exactly lookin for a friend. What I was lookin for is
what I had...a bike and freedom. The Sun was just beginning to shine into my
eyes...1400 hundred miles or so ahead, it was already hot on Jake's back.
Davie Allen and Link Wray tunes were running through my head...by the time I
got to El Paso the soundtrack had changed...when I pulled up in front of
this seedy, dusty biker bar in El Paso I could hear Marty Robbins playing on
a scratchy juke box...yeah, this was Texas, all right...
There was another bike parked
outside. This "country boy" type was just getting off of it. I didn't think
I was in the mood for much company but then again, I never was able to
properly figure out my moods...that's probably why I was here...700 miles
from home and not a clue as to where I might be going...hell with it, I
thought, I'm tired...if I have to smile and get involved in some chit-chat,
fine, just as long as the beer's cold...
Jake...
There were
social gaps throughout the nation. Viet Nam veterans were spit on and
called baby burners. Many found acceptance with a different and wilder
element. Bikers. They found they had a more open mind and understood white
color - prim and proper rejections. They'd buy the vet a beer and
say...Bro you're welcome in here.
There was
also a gap of about 1400 miles between two men with a common bond. They had
never met each other but there was already a biker bonding in the air. And
as the wind mixes the elements of the world together it brought these two
bikers to become buddies and brothers.
Jake asked
the dusty long haired "Charles Manson" looking west coast biker..."Hay kid -
where'd you get them fancy looking white kicks from?" "California." "That
figures." "So let me ask you something," 'Malibu' snorted out. "You from
around these parts?" Yep. Cowtown...that`s what we call Fort Worth ya know.
Good. Let's go inside and have a beer. I've got something, that's really got
my curiosity spinning, that I want to ask you.
Once
bellied up to the bar and taking the first swigs Malibu pops that
burning question. So tell me...are all those ARMADILLOS born dead on the
side of the highway - or what?
So `Malibu'
- where ya head'n?
"TEXAS" man.
Thought I'd scope out Austin and see if I could hook up with an outlaw band.
You want to
be an OUTLAW?
Naw. an
outlaw band. Like with that new singer Willie Nelson, or Waylon or Jerry
Jeff. I'm a musician and want to get in with some of those outlaws out of
Austin. They bombed in Nashville but I hear they might make it big in Texas.
How about
you Jake, where you going? California I figure. They got some cool surfer
girls I read.
No man - you
don't want`a go out there. There's going to be a big earthquake. A BIG one.
I mean REALLY - REALLY - BIG! The whole state might fall off into the ocean.
Well it
can't be much worse than the one I left back home. My ole lady caught me,
well let's just say - they were BIG ONES TOO!
Where you
bed'n down tonight man?
Don't know
yet. Don't have a lot of bread.
You're
hungry?
I mean
bread, like dough, green backs, cash, money.
You all
Californians sure do talk funny.
Well so do
you'z guys.
I know a
place just over the hill. Mama's place. She's pretty old but spry as a fox
for her age. She'd probably turn down a bed for us if we asked her in the
right way.
You're sick
man. But I need a place to crash so I'll just tag along and see what
happens.
Upon
arriving the two bikers were greeted in the front yard by a spirited little
old lady. She was grey headed and couldn't possibly weigh over 80 lbs, but
wiry as all get out. You all bring any thing to drink? She asked.
Got a bottle
of bourbon, Jake said.
What kind?
Jack
Daniels.
Okay come on
in. I'll get the glasses, y'all set your asses down.
Mama this is
my new friend 'Malibu'.
She takes a
long stare at him over her eye specks and says, yeah and he need's a hair
cut too. But first things first. I'll fetch the scissors later. Malibu has
this WHAT TA HELL look on his face and takes a chair close to the front
door.
While Mama
was in the kitchen Malibu says, Look - you go ahead and sleep with her if
you must. But I'm goin'a pass and get ta hell out of here. All that talk
about scissors and such scares the crap out of me.
Dude you're
the one that's sick. That's my best friend's mother. Her name is Gladys but
the whole world calls her Mama.
Mama comes
back with three glasses of ice, and then a big platter of assorted cold
cuts, pickled okra, sliced fresh garden tomatoes, and such. After placing it
on the dinning table she brings out a loaf of fresh baked oatmeal bread. I
baked your favorite she said.
Malibu looks
at Jake and muttered, you were expected. Jake says, YEAH.
The three
proceed to chow down, chug a few glasses of Jack, except for Mama that is.
She just poured a splash on top of her Coke Cola saying - I need to stay
alert. Don't want anyone to take advantage of me.
They told
jokes and got better acquainted well into the night. Mama asked, "you know
what's worse than losing your car keys and can't remember where you put
them?"
Malibu said
no - what?
"It's when
you find them and can't remember what they go to!"
Jake laughed
and asked, where'd you hear that one?
Mama puts
her nose up close in front of Jake's, stares him right in the eyes with this
god awful worried look on her face and states, I CAN'T REMEMBER, har, har,
har.
To Be Continued... |
