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Rated: · Fiction · Other · #1564098
Wheeler's Road...Continuation of Chapter 1
Wheeler’s Road Chapter 2



The Sun was shinging, the town of Cardiff Nevada was all around (All three stop lights worth) and here I sat with one of the highest paid performers in an overpriced town of highly paid performers. Not to mention one of the most drop dead gorgeous women of all time. I mean there are days…


I had downshifted Ms. Annie and was heading down into town. On the right was a Sonic drive in and on the left was a gas station of some local mom and pop variety. Megan had been asleep for the better part of an hour. I had checked her fever once and touching her head had scared me . She was burning up. I woke her briefly fed her two aspirin and let her go back to sleep while I drove. OK, I had rolled through Cardiff and hadn’t woken her up. There wasn’t any kind of rental Car Company there anyway. I called my dispatcher in Los Angeles.

“Yo, Frank…”

“Yo, Jake…

Pretty much went down hill from there. Frank and I have never been too much on communication. Ever since that night 30 klicks outside of Mosul Northwest of Bagdad.

“Frank, West on Highway 79 out of Bakersfield, there is a new dark blue Chevrolet four door , CAL Plate CGI 3333 sitting on the western side of the road. Get a wrecker out there and take it to a repair shop in Bakersfield. No Frank, Any repair shop. Tell them at the repair shop that it belongs to Dailey Car Rental in Los Angeles. I will stand good for all the repairs. No, I am not going to tell you the story. No. nobody is dead. No nobody is being chased. A friend of mine just broke down and needs someone to pick up the car. Take any personal belongings out of it and put them into a plastic sack with my name on it. K?

Three minutes later and it was a done deal.

30 minutes later, I was back doing what I was doing when this whole thing started cranking out “Can’t you hear me calling?” with the Stones albeit a whole lot softer. I had gotten back to the jazz riff when the cabin door opened and Ms. Mitchell stepped through to the passenger side.

“What time is it?” she asked groggily.

3:36, I replied cheerfully.

“What!?

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

"Because you were asleep and you had a fever and like that":, I replied. "I figured you could always take a plane out of Vegas.”

She thought for a moment, “Well, I guess it will be OK. Can I have some more of that green drink?”

“Sure,” I reached around and pulled another bottle of Gatorade from the fridge.

“Jake, thanks for taking care of that car. I’m not sure who or how I could have handled it.”

And I gave her my best imitation of Gladys Knight singing, “That’s what friends are for” and was rewarded with a smile that started at the corners of her mouth and spread upward into an explosion around her eyes and lit her whole face.

It was definitely spectacular and I felt my jaw dropping. I turned back to the window and gulped.

Down boy. I thought.

Why are you being so nice to me?

Please don’t make me sing again. I’m not sure I could handle it. Lets just say that it is a debt being paid off, K?

K.

She looked across the desert into the twilight. “You are OK, aren’t you? I mean you’re not a crazy or anything, are you?” I reached around and picked up the yellow satellite phone. Hitting the on line button I said,

“Alice please redial Ms. Mitchell's father.” Megan watched as her jaw dropped deeper and deeper.

A man’s voice answered “Hello?”

I spoke in my most disarming voice “Mr. Mitchell, I am a friend of Megan’s Jake Wheeler. Oh no, Sir. We have known each other for “years.” I looked at Megan and winked. She just wanted me to call you and tell you that she is with me driving in a 2005 Peterbilt cab over tractor across country to Knoxville. It is blue and has the prominent Tag is Texas 124556. My phone number is 12455499 but I would appreciate it if you held it out for emergencies. I have not dealt with paparazzi and sure don’t want to start.”

Ok, maybe I did run it together a little. She grabbed the phone out of my hand.

“Dad, Jake is a friend of mine and I am going to ride out with him. Please don’t worry. If you have any questions or concerns you can always call me. OK? OK, Dad, I will talk to you later.”

She hit the end button, put the phone down, and just stared at me.

“Well, we have gotten that solved. You are definitely one crazy son of a bitch.”

“Why? Because I wanted someone to know where you are and that you are OK? Because I wanted someone to know in case, you were to fabricate some wild and hairy story about me. I mean’ you could end up with my truck, you know.” I really did say this to a person who makes $20 million every six months. I was however smiling when I said it.

“You just can’t trust people now days….” I finished and just smiled at her.

She just smiled back.

“You are definitely certifiable.. But thanks for easing my mind I guess this means you are stuck with me until Knoxville.”

“You are quite welcome, My lady. Alice and I will just have to grin and bear it with you until Knoxville. However, I should warn you. The cuisine here at Chez Jake leaves a lot to be desired.”

At the thought of eating, she said “JAKE!” and I barely got the window down before she heaved all over the side of Ms. Annie’s starboard side. When I was satisfied that she did not have anything left, I helped her back to the cab and put a blanket on her. She was burning up I could feel it in her arms and in her face. I gave her some aspirin and a little Gatorade.

“Ok, sip this and stay quiet for a while.”

She got out “Jake...” when I held up my finger to my lips. “Shush, I said. Go to sleep. “

By the time I got in the cab she was sleeping, snoring lightly, I cranked the truck and pulled it back onto the road.

“Alice, we need a doctor. Someone who is an internist and within an hour drive from here. Who would that be?

All I got from Alice was a “Stand By” in a voice that made my heart break.
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