Lemons 02 A Touch of Danger Page 2

  “Hold on,” I tell her as I open up my desk drawer. “Throw that fossil in the trashcan, I have a present for you,” I say as I walk over and hand her my white iPad.

  “Shut your face right up! Seriously, I can have it?!”

  “Sure can. I billed that sad sack-of-shit who just walked out of here for a brand new one. You’re welcome.”

  You couldn’t pry the smile off her face with a crowbar. She was beaming. Ah, life’s simple pleasures.

  “Oh man, Archie, thank you so much! Can I go play with it?”

  “Absolutely, we’re done here. As soon as I finish this paperwork we are officially on vacation. Find us a place to stay. Vacation is on me this year, too.”

  “No, come on, I can help pay, that’s not fair to you,” she said.

  “Elise, you and the kids have helped me more than you will ever even realize. This vacation is absolutely on me. Let me finish this shit up, you find us a room, and then we’ll swing by the mall and grab you a new swimsuit and I’ll get some new shorts. Then we can go pick up the kids from Jamie’s and go pack.”

  “Sounds good to me. And Archie, they are called bikinis. Girls wear bikinis, not swimsuits.”

  “My bad, whatever. Go find us a place to stay.”

  “Alright, I’m on it. One more thing though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Are you really going to keep that ridiculous mustache for our vacation? You look like you’re about to show up for a gun fight at the O.K. Corral.”

  It was true. My mustache had taken on a life all its own. The ends had separated from my face and had begun to curl up into a circle. I looked like I was constantly plotting some evil scheme of world domination or was about to fight in an old-time boxing match. I liked it, but I had a feeling I was the only one.

  “You don’t like it?” I asked her, even though the answer was obvious.

  “You look you own a plumbing business with your stalky brother and are on the hunt for a missing princess. Actually, lately you’re looking more like Mario than Luigi.” She grabbed her flat stomach and giggled around some imaginary fat, mocking me. My best friend.

  “So sue me, I like food and hate exercise. Whatever.”

  “Where are your red overalls and plunger?”

  “Geez, fine, I get the hint. I’ll shave my ‘stache if you shave yours.’

  “Oh, suck it Lemons. I’m going to go find us a motel. I’m really sorry that O.J. killed your son, but you really need to go shave that mess,” she said with a huge smile as she walked out the door and back to her desk.

  Damnit. Looks like I was going to have to part ways with this delicious slice of sexy, raw manliness.

  ***

  We finished up all our business and arrived at Elise’s friend Jamie’s house before sundown to pick up the kids. Jamie had a daughter that was Elliot’s age and the three of them all got along swimmingly. Whatever that means. Jamie had offered to watch the kids during the summer because, honestly, I think she was happy that Elise finally had a steady job. I had met Jamie several times over the course of the years I was married to Marianne and found her to be a lovely woman, very kind and outgoing. I trusted her completely with my nephews. She wasn’t hard on the eyes either, but shhh.

  While in the car heading back to Elise’s house, we told the kids the exciting news about the beach and they could hardly contain their excitement. Elise told them when they got home they had exactly one hour to pack and then it was bedtime. We lied to them and said we would be getting an early start, even though, as everyone in the car knew, as long as I was involved, an early start was all but an impossibility.

  4.

  Our early morning start was more like an early afternoon start. I don’t know why, but for some reason I cannot make myself get up and get ready, even when it is something I am looking forward to. Oh well, we finally hit the road a little before one-o’clock and our two and a half hour drive seemed like an eternity. You would think a drive from Southern California to the beach would be fun, with lots of great sights and stuff, but that is far from the case. First, you have to cut through the glorious, progressive town of Taft, which is just as classy as it sounds, then drive miles upon miles through absolute nothingness before hitting a speed trap of a little shit town. Then, you come to some boring mountains, also filled with nothing. Now, add to that crappy drive two kids in the backseat who constantly feel the need to remind you how boring the drive is while picking the world’s worst music to listen to, and with miles of 3G dead spots for the iPad making any streaming Netflix content all but an impossibility, and you have one hellish nightmare of a drive.

  Right now, we were currently between the shithole speed trap town and the mountains. It was a long stretch of Jack Norman Shit but somehow, for some unknown reason, there was a rather long string of creepy looking motels.

  “Who is staying in these motels?” Elise asks.

  “They’re called Dead Hooker Depositories. Get it right.”

  “What’s a hooker?” Eric asks from the backseat.

  “The only dates your dad can get,” I answered.

  Elise shot me a look. I shut up and continued along in my misery, listening to whatever bubble-gum bullshit the kids were torturing me with.

  It was all worth it though, once the ocean came into view and the temperature dropped. When we left Bakersfield this afternoon it was one-hundred-and-nine degrees, but when I opened up the car door, I stepped out into a wonderful seventy-one degrees. I took a deep breath and inhaled the cool air into my lungs. It was a welcome change from my hometown’s hot and ugly shit-air.

  Elise stayed at the car with the kids and Wrecker while I walked up to the motel office to check in. We had decided on a little place in Shell Beach called the Ocean Inn. Pretty much the most uninspired name for something since that god-awful Kevin Spacey movie 21, but it fit our needs, pets were welcome and it was within walking distance to the beach. I told the innkeeper thank you for his help, grabbed our key cards and headed back towards Elise’s car.

  “We’re all set,” I tell them. “Rooms five and six, right over there.”

  The kids already started begging to go to the beach, but I had to inform them that we wouldn’t be going down to the water until tomorrow.

  “It’s too late to go right now, guys. Go to your room and relax for a few minutes, then we’ll take a walk down the street and we can look at the water for a while. Then we need to get some dinner. Fatty is starving!”

  “Yay!” both kids yelled and ran off, with Wrecker, towards our rooms.

  “How can you have any room left in your stomach for food after the five Rockstars you drank on the drive over?” Elise asked in astonishment.

  “Apparently you haven’t seen this gut of mine, lately.” I lifted up my t-shirt to share it with her.

  “Oh my god, never mind,” she said. “Question answered. Come on, King Ralph, let’s go inside.”

  Once inside my room, I kicked off my shoes and flopped backwards on the bed. I was surprise by how comfortable it felt as I was always under the impression that motels were shit. It was a nice way to start the vacation, especially since I still was sleeping on the sofa at my house. I had slept in a bed when I was holed up at Elise’s house, and it was great, but once I decided to return home, I still couldn’t make myself sleep on the bed Marianne and I shared together. That seemed like it was in a different lifetime.

  As is my custom after lying on a bed, I immediately look for the remote control for the television. What good is relaxing if there isn’t some brain-garbage emulating from the electronic moron in the corner of the room. I was right about the zillion-year old, non-HD television, but I guess it didn’t matter. I guess this is what they call “roughing it” these days. I was prepared to make the sacrifice if it meant Elise and the kids were happy.

  While searching for the remote I found a little folded pamphlet thing explaining that they would not be changing my sheets on a daily basis unless I requested it. They sai
d it was to reduce the use of water and energy, thus doing their part to save the planet. I had a sneaky suspicion it was bullshit and the only thing they cared about saving was some money. But oh well, as long as I have clean sheets now, I wouldn’t complain. Plus, I never let maids in my room when I stay in hotels. The Do Not Disturb sign is always on my door.

  I found the remote and as I laid there flipping through the channels, something amazing happened. I stumbled upon an episode of Dragnet on a network called RTV. I was very excited and quite intrigued. I have not seen an episode of Dragnet on television in at least ten years.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and graciously piggybacked on the motel’s free wi-fi and looked up the programming schedule for this fascinating network. What I saw nearly blew my mind!

  Apparently, the R in RTV stood for Retro and right before Dragnet started, Adam 12 was on. And coming up next it was a four-hour-of-power line-up with Rockford Files, Magnum P.I., Simon & Simon and Knight Rider. Then, after that block of awesomeness, the late night started off with Wolfman Mac’s Chiller Drive-In Theater! In the morning, we would get Lassie, Saved by the Bell, He-Man, She-Ra and so much more! This was way too much for my brain to comprehend and I would be perfectly content spending my entire vacation in this room watching these wonderful shows! I just knew Elise and the kids were going to ruin it for me with their desire to actually go out and enjoy the beach.

  Well, sure as shit, right as Friday and Gannon were about to seize their crook, the buzz-killers came-a-knocking.

  “Uncle Archie! It’s us! Eric and Elliot and Mommy! We’re ready to go!” they screamed from outside. “Open the door! We’re ready!”

  I let out an audible sigh, rolled my fat ass to the end of the bed, and got to my feet just as the Dragnet theme music started to play. I made my way to the door and opened it to reveal three smiling faces, and one lazy, apathetic dog.

  “Alright, alright, I’m ready guys. Let me just go change my t-shirt. This one still has that awkward car seat sweat stain on it.”

  “Ok, hurry Uncle Archie!” Elliot yelled in excitement at me.

  I invited them in and opened up my suitcase in search for a new t-shirt as I explained to Elise the amazingness of the RTV Network. She seemed less thrilled with it than I did. Girls, I tell ya. They never appreciate the classics.

  I successfully fished a clean shirt from my suitcase and peeled my current, stinky and sweaty one off me, revealing the scars from my gunshot wounds.

  “You look like the 50 Cent, Uncle Archie,” Eric informed me.

  “First off,” I tell him, “how do you know who 50 Cent is, and second off, I’m way cooler than that guy. Check out this wound right here,” I say as I point to my most prolific gunshot wound. “See, way cooler. You should call me, like, 75 Cent.”

  My joke got a cheap laugh and I finished getting dressed so we could go. Before we made it out the door, Elise finally spoke up. “Is that an Eve 6 shirt?” she asked.

  “Why yes it is,” I tell her. “Thanks for noticing.”

  “Jesus, Archie, where the heck do you find these shirts you wear?”

  “Um, in the nineties. Where stuff was way more badass than it is now.”

  “Jesus, and you just hold on to them for a decade then break them out at random?”

  “Negative, Ms. Reynolds. I wear them all the time; you just don’t notice my amazing wardrobe. And besides, why are you bagging on my Eve 6 shirt?”

  “Um, because they’re a totally forgotten nineties band that haven’t had a record in a decade, but yet, you still wear their merch. You realize there are new bands out now, right?”

  “Oh come on,” I say. “New bands suck! I keep it rill. I gots tons of these, yo.”

  “You’re like a walking billboard for the Can’t Hardly Wait soundtrack.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that one. She got me. “Come on, jerk faces, let’s go.”

  I grabbed Wrecker by the leash and led my family out into the crisp clean air, closing and locking the motel door behind us.

  5.

  Shell Beach is a really small town, with one main drag that is just a little over a mile long, which cuts through the entire town. Our motel was located right in the middle of this street, so we decided to walk down the hill to a little park on the cliff overlooking the ocean. It was an easy walk that only took about five minutes, not counting the couple times we stopped to look at a few houses that were for sale, none of which we would ever be able to afford.

  Once we made it down to the little park, I can’t really say it provided me with very much relaxation. In fact, it made me a nervous wreck. There was only the bare minimum of a railing protecting someone from falling off onto the deadly rocks below and nothing but a mere chain guarding the tip of the cliff. Amazingly enough, I have no problem with heights now, but with the two kids running around like mad-men, not paying one bit of attention to a word any adult says, and a dog who was too lazy to even look where he was stepping , it was enough to trigger a mild panic attack. I reached into my sweatshirt pocket, retrieved one of my pills, popped it in my mouth, and did my best to swallow it without having to use the cesspool of a drinking fountain. It didn’t work and I almost choked to death on it. I checked my dignity at the door and used the water fountain, trying not to think of all the disease I was swallowing down. Note to self: Always bring a bottle of water with me from now on.

  “Is Archie Lemons drinking from a public water fountain?” I heard Elise call out to me.

  “Don’t remind me, E. It was an emergency. Trust me. How are you not panicking with these kids running around so close to the edge of this cliff?”

  “They’re not stupid, Archie. They know not to get too close.”

  “Well, they’re about to give me a heart attack.”

  “What a wuss,” she says to me, then calls out to the kids, “Guys, come here for a second.” The kids come running over to us, shockingly enough. “Tell Uncle Archie that you are old enough to know not to play too close to the edge of the cliff.”

  “Duh, Uncle Archie, we don’t want to fall off,” Eric tells me.

  “Yeah, Uncle Archie. We’re big boys!” Elliot informs me.

  “Fine, fine,” I surrender. “Just be careful. You guys want to go check out the telescope?”

  “The what?” they both ask.

  “The telescope. The giant metal thing at the end of the park with the two, giant Wall-E eyes. You look through it and you can see far out onto the ocean and look at the rocks and ships and stuff.”

  “Oh yeah!”

  The kids ran over to the telescope and Elise and I eventually sauntered on over. When we arrived, the kids were fighting over who would get to look first and literally pulling each other off trying to catch that first glimpse.

  We let the kids settle their own argument and Elise, Wrecker and I walked to the edge of the cliff and looked out towards the ocean. About a mile away lie three enormous houses built out on the rocks, with giant glass windows giving, what I imagined to be, breathtaking views of the ocean and the waves crashing down below.

  “It must be nice to be rich,” Elise said to me.

  “Yeah, but sometimes these people just take everything for granted and they don’t even realize what they have. When we come here on vacation, we get to fully enjoy everything. So, rich smitch, who cares?” It was a total ramble of bullshit, but I guess Elise got my point. She rested her head on my shoulder and I put my arm around her and we watched the waves for a few more minutes until the kids started yelling at us from the telescope.

  “MOM!!!” Elliot yelled. “IT’S YOUR TURN TO LOOK IN THE WALL-E!!! MOM!!! MOM!!! DID YOU HEAR ME, MOM?! IT’S YOUR TURN!!!”

  “Yes, son. I hear you.” She clenched her eyes shut tight, then asked me, “This is supposed to be a relaxing vacation, right?”

  “Come on,” I tell her, “we’ll have fun. I promise. Let’s go get some goddamn food, I am starving.”

  “Sounds good to me. Can this food be acc
ompanied by a few beers?”

  “Beer tastes like ass, but if you want some, have at it.” She took her head off my shoulder and we turned and walked towards the kids, Wrecker trailing behind us, as usual.

  Elise took a quick peak through the telescope then told the kids it was time to go get some dinner. We took the long way back up the hill, walking along the cliff-line until it dead-ended and we had no choice but to head back up.

  I must say, the way back up was nowhere near as easy as the walk down. I had no idea we came down such a steep decline coming down there, and I am really paying the price now for being so out of shape. Elise and the kids seemed to have no problem but Wrecker and I were falling way behind.

  “Hey, maybe if you had been wearing some Shape-Ups you wouldn’t be about to collapse on the slightest of workouts,” Elise yelled at me from far up ahead.

  Very funny. I would rather have a heart attack right here in the middle of the street than wear those ridiculous shoes.

  “I’m fine. Wrecker has little legs though and it is just taking him a little longer. I don’t want to ditch him.” If this were one of those shitty movies, the camera would have cut to a close-up shot of my dog staring into the camera, wide-eyed and tilting his head, probably accompanied by some terrible sound effect like a GONG to really drive the subtlety of the dog’s objection home. Fucking Hollywood.

  “Whatever you say, Fatso,” Elise says to me, as she turns around and does a little jog to catch up to the kids.

  Lousy showoff.

  When we finally made it back to the top, Elise and the kids were sitting on the curb looking very bored. Elliot pretended to be asleep, then Eric started to pretend snore.

  “The dog has little legs. Give me a break.” Elise says. She gives my t-shirt a little tug and says, “Your Eve 6 shirt is soaked, Big Pun. Want to stop at your room and change?” All three of them started laughing.

  Thanks a lot.

  “Actually,” I tell them, “yeah, that’s not a bad idea.”

  All three of them get up and we start walking back to the room. Poor Wrecker is barely conscious.