had tucked in his belt. Then he cocked and released the hammer a few times, and twirled it around his finger smiling like an entertainer at a gun show. He leaned forward resting his arms on the top of the seats behind Sam and Tom. With gun in hand said, If I’ve got to protect myself, or my friends, I will. You guys are my friends now, so we protect each other. He spun the gun round his finger again, aimed out the window at some invisible prey. Bang! he barked. Got’em! then let out another long yokel laugh.
Okay, Sam said. We’re friends. You can put the gun away. Don’t want anyone getting shot. Holiday! The cat killer. He looks so young! It’s him, I know it! What is it with these people I’m picking up? Sam thought. If someone picked me up on the highway I’d sit in the car quietly, answer questions I was asked, and have a nice friendly conversation. Why are the people I pick up fruitcakes? What’s going to happen next?
In the mirror Sam watched Holiday tuck the pistol back into his belt. This time he tucked it in the front, then sat back, and drank his beer. This guy’s going to be trouble. I have my hands full with Tom, and now I’ve got this goof. I should’ve listened to Tom and driven by. Damn, why did I stop and pick this loser up? Sam continued to watch Holiday in the mirror, and noticed Tom doing the same with an I told you not to pick him up look on his face. Tom’s drinking slowed, and Holidays increased. He guzzled three cans of beer, and after that cracked open the whisky. Tom cringed. I felt something might happen, but he was cool, studied the road map, and played with the CD player. Every so often he’d say something about a nice car that drove by, or elaborate about the scenery.
After listening to music, and driving a while, Holiday leaned forward, and said, I’ve got to take a leak, guys. What about you?
Sounds like a good idea, Sam said. I’ll stop at the next wayside or gas station?
Can’t wait, Holiday said. I’ll piss my pants.
Pinch it off, Tom said, until we pull over.
That looks like a good spot up ahead, Holiday said. Pull over quick!
Okay, Sam said, go empty your wagon, but make it fast, so we can get back on the road. We’re staying at a campground tonight, and have to get going, so we can set up camp before dark.
Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . okay, boss, he said, laughed, then climbed out of the car. He stood next to the road, unzipped his fly, and watered the weeds along the roadside.
Oh, man, that’s feels good, he said, and let out groans of joy as he emptied his bladder. That’ll make everything grow. It’ll look like the Garden of Eden when I get done pissing on it, and be worth a picture.
Tom let out a chuckle, looked at Sam, and whispered, I bet if we come back to this spot in a few days all the plant life will be dead, and look like it was baked by the sun. The place will be teeming with snakes and wretched creatures.
Sam whispered, Don’t rile him up. He’ll pull that damn gun out again, and start waving it around.
Tom gave Sam the I-don’t-care look, and didn’t say much from then on.
Holiday climbed back into the car adjusting and zipping his pants. What’s the name of the camping place? he asked, and grabbed a beer from the cooler.
Wild Cat Mountain, Sam said. I think it’s a nice place. We should be getting close. If you see a sign for it, let me know.
Thirty minutes later, and after guzzling a can of beer, Holiday’s hand went up. There’s a sign for Wild Cat Mountain right there, he said, and pointed, then stuck his head out the window. Yeah, boy, will you look at that mountain. It’s big and steep. We’re in the cat mountains, boys! I wonder if we’ll see any big cats.
We’re almost there, then. What do you think Tom? Are you ready to camp under the stars tonight?
I like the stars. It’s a way to understand how big the universe is. I think it was Jack London who wrote in one of his books something like, We’re all in the gutter, but
Okay, Sam said. We’re friends. You can put the gun away. Don’t want anyone getting shot. Holiday! The cat killer. He looks so young! It’s him, I know it! What is it with these people I’m picking up? Sam thought. If someone picked me up on the highway I’d sit in the car quietly, answer questions I was asked, and have a nice friendly conversation. Why are the people I pick up fruitcakes? What’s going to happen next?
In the mirror Sam watched Holiday tuck the pistol back into his belt. This time he tucked it in the front, then sat back, and drank his beer. This guy’s going to be trouble. I have my hands full with Tom, and now I’ve got this goof. I should’ve listened to Tom and driven by. Damn, why did I stop and pick this loser up? Sam continued to watch Holiday in the mirror, and noticed Tom doing the same with an I told you not to pick him up look on his face. Tom’s drinking slowed, and Holidays increased. He guzzled three cans of beer, and after that cracked open the whisky. Tom cringed. I felt something might happen, but he was cool, studied the road map, and played with the CD player. Every so often he’d say something about a nice car that drove by, or elaborate about the scenery.
After listening to music, and driving a while, Holiday leaned forward, and said, I’ve got to take a leak, guys. What about you?
Sounds like a good idea, Sam said. I’ll stop at the next wayside or gas station?
Can’t wait, Holiday said. I’ll piss my pants.
Pinch it off, Tom said, until we pull over.
That looks like a good spot up ahead, Holiday said. Pull over quick!
Okay, Sam said, go empty your wagon, but make it fast, so we can get back on the road. We’re staying at a campground tonight, and have to get going, so we can set up camp before dark.
Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . okay, boss, he said, laughed, then climbed out of the car. He stood next to the road, unzipped his fly, and watered the weeds along the roadside.
Oh, man, that’s feels good, he said, and let out groans of joy as he emptied his bladder. That’ll make everything grow. It’ll look like the Garden of Eden when I get done pissing on it, and be worth a picture.
Tom let out a chuckle, looked at Sam, and whispered, I bet if we come back to this spot in a few days all the plant life will be dead, and look like it was baked by the sun. The place will be teeming with snakes and wretched creatures.
Sam whispered, Don’t rile him up. He’ll pull that damn gun out again, and start waving it around.
Tom gave Sam the I-don’t-care look, and didn’t say much from then on.
Holiday climbed back into the car adjusting and zipping his pants. What’s the name of the camping place? he asked, and grabbed a beer from the cooler.
Wild Cat Mountain, Sam said. I think it’s a nice place. We should be getting close. If you see a sign for it, let me know.
Thirty minutes later, and after guzzling a can of beer, Holiday’s hand went up. There’s a sign for Wild Cat Mountain right there, he said, and pointed, then stuck his head out the window. Yeah, boy, will you look at that mountain. It’s big and steep. We’re in the cat mountains, boys! I wonder if we’ll see any big cats.
We’re almost there, then. What do you think Tom? Are you ready to camp under the stars tonight?
I like the stars. It’s a way to understand how big the universe is. I think it was Jack London who wrote in one of his books something like, We’re all in the gutter, but
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