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I roll down the window of the van and le the warm Santa Monica air hit my skin


By: Tee


Rating: G

Two for one: This answers the Drive and the Clothes Call challenge at ATSB.

Thank you – to Pam – who makes everything better, and just a bit easier.




I rolled down the window of the van and let the warm Santa Monica air hit my skin. It won't be long before I roll it back up again. It's hot. Way too hot for this early in the year. It's not supposed to be this hot until well into July. I've had enough. We've got to get out of the city.


With a shift, I can look into the back seat. Murdock peeled off his bomber jacket just seconds after getting in the van. We sprang him this morning for a day of fun, and it has been. Face scammed us some tickets to the pre-opening of the King Tut exhibit. The other three of us grumbled before we got there, but we had a good time. Okay, maybe we made one too many cracks about dead guys on display and fellas that wear make-up, but we really did have fun. Even "poor ol' put upon" Face had cracked more than one smile.


Okay, maybe I let the irreverence go on a bit long, and we snickered at more than one inappropriate time, but I'm sure Face will forgive us. I shift around a little more to see him. It's amazing. He's still in his three-piece suit, his red tie matches the handkerchief in his breast pocket, the tie tack looks like it cost more than this van – and it just might have. But the weird thing is –he isn't sweating.


Even BA, who has the sleeves cut from his shirt and is wearing cammo shorts, has a trickle of sweat down the side of his neck. Man, it's hot.


I have the window rolled barely halfway up and BA's cranking up the air-conditioner again. I don't like the smell of car air-conditioners. They have a metallic, canned taste, but it sure beats the heat.


"Let's go to the beach, or the mountains, or the moon, just someplace not so hot." Murdock pulls off the stuffed snake-head cap he coerced Face into buying for him at the gift shop. His hair is matted with sweat.


I can't help but rub a wrist against my forehead to catch a trickle of sweat, too. It's so hot that I've left my usual safari jacket and gloves behind for the day, and settled on a polo shirt with a movie studio logo.


"The museum was nicely climate controlled at 74 degrees, but you guys didn't want to stay there. I'll be lucky to show my face there again in my life time."


He's quick to jerk his head away when Murdock pats his cheek. "It's such a pretty face, Face, I'm sure they'll let you back in."


I press my lips together so I don't laugh, but it's hard with BA just across from me. Damn that stupid giggle of his. It makes his whole body shake just before it bursts out of him.


"Anybody got any eyeliner?"


Murdock and I bust up, maybe even harder when the museum program bounces off BA's head.


"A little culture, something different. . ."

I'm sure he's saying more along the lines of what he said earlier today, but we're all laughing too hard to listen. He'll sulk, I know, but we really have been silly all day today and it feels good to get it out in the open.


I want to drive. To keep this feeling going. This feeling of fun and humor and good times. If we get out of the car and go inside somewhere, the magic will be gone. "Head for the beach, BA, we can drive up the coast a bit."  And I can open the windows again. The 101 will be cooler once we clear Santa Monica.


"I'm not taking you to any of my nice restaurants. None of you are worth it."


"Aw, come on, Face, some nice place with linen napkins and fried clams?"




But I know he's got one of those dives up his sleeve. The ones that look like truckers would be afraid to stop at them, but the food is fantastic. I just wonder how far the drive is – not that I care. I just want to drive.


The End


Drive by Tee



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