to
make Mom cry or mad or both at once.”
“You sure your captain didn’t talk you into
re-upping? That guy is so good he ought to sell used cars.”
“Nah. I’ll be coming on back out here to Los Angeles
in my civvies after I spend the holidays at home. I’ve never seen a
place growing so fast. Every time I drive through it they got
another subdivision of houses going up. And the women! Mama mia.
Every good-looking gal seems to end up in Hollywood wanting to be
the next Betty Grable or Lauren Bacall. Of course most of them
won’t give me the time of day when they find out I’m not in the
movie business. But I’m thinking of becoming a hotshot agent. You
know, the guy who gets those babes signed up with a big juicy
contract at some movie studio, with a nice slice of it going to
yours truly. God gave me the gift of gab. It would be a sin for me
not to use it, right?”
“Whatever you say, chief.” Jason used an opener to
pry off the top from a soda bottle.
“You’re religious, huh? I can tell.”
“Well, I always went to church if that’s what you
mean.”
“Yeah. I knew it all along. Every other couple I
drove to Nevada to get hitched were always in the back seat
practicing for their honeymoon. You and Thelma aren’t like that at
all. Sort of nice to see folks like you two. Here’s to you.” He
lifted his second bottle in a toast and then bit the cap off.
At Needles they turned north again. By the time they
reached Laughlin, Nevada, all three needed a bathroom break. Thelma
also needed a break from the insanity that two short timers with
little time left in uniform can produce. She pulled Jason aside
outside of the restrooms. “Let’s get off here.”
“But I thought that you wanted to see Las Vegas.”
“Maybe some other time. That long drive through the
desert wore me out. That and all the crazy talk and songs you two
kept on singing. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall? You’re
like a couple of crazy high school boys all liquored up and you
haven’t even been drinking. I’m scared of what will probably happen
if you’re anywhere near him in Las Vegas. One or both of you will
end up in jail for sure. Then we won’t get back home for the
wedding reception that our moms got all planned out for next
Saturday. They’re already plenty upset that we didn’t want to wait
to get married in Madisin.”
Jason scratched his chin, a habit he had learned from
Kong. If stopping off here made her happy, why not? His dad had
always said, “Anytime you can please a woman, go for broke.” So he
walked over to their driver to explain the change in plans. “Is
there any chapel here in town? Thelma’s not too up on going all the
way on to Las Vegas.”
“Sure is. Hop in and I’ll take you there in a
jiffy.”
The ceremony took twenty minutes, fifteen of which
were spent waiting for another couple to act as witnesses to Thelma
and Jason vowing to sail life’s seas “in sickness and health, for
richer or poorer till death do us part.” The newlyweds then
graciously served as witnesses for the ones who married after they
did.
Attached to the back of the wedding chapel was a
small house, home to Rev. and Mrs. Quantrum. A small sign at the
chapel’s front door told customers to ring the doorbell below it.
Doing so set off a loud buzzer in the house and brought one of the
two to usher the couple into the pews. So far, Rev. Quantrum had
married 14,298 couples but business had dropped off since the war
ended and the flow of those in uniform migrating through southern
California slowed from a flood to a trickle. But there was always
some couple eloping, divorcee marrying on the rebound, or other
lonely souls in a hurry to tie the knot. The Quantrums closed the
chapel for a two-week vacation annually. Otherwise it was open
seven day a week, twenty-four hours a day, rain or shine.
After counting their remaining money, Mr. and Mrs.
Dalrumple checked into a cheap motel that came furnished with
make Mom cry or mad or both at once.”
“You sure your captain didn’t talk you into
re-upping? That guy is so good he ought to sell used cars.”
“Nah. I’ll be coming on back out here to Los Angeles
in my civvies after I spend the holidays at home. I’ve never seen a
place growing so fast. Every time I drive through it they got
another subdivision of houses going up. And the women! Mama mia.
Every good-looking gal seems to end up in Hollywood wanting to be
the next Betty Grable or Lauren Bacall. Of course most of them
won’t give me the time of day when they find out I’m not in the
movie business. But I’m thinking of becoming a hotshot agent. You
know, the guy who gets those babes signed up with a big juicy
contract at some movie studio, with a nice slice of it going to
yours truly. God gave me the gift of gab. It would be a sin for me
not to use it, right?”
“Whatever you say, chief.” Jason used an opener to
pry off the top from a soda bottle.
“You’re religious, huh? I can tell.”
“Well, I always went to church if that’s what you
mean.”
“Yeah. I knew it all along. Every other couple I
drove to Nevada to get hitched were always in the back seat
practicing for their honeymoon. You and Thelma aren’t like that at
all. Sort of nice to see folks like you two. Here’s to you.” He
lifted his second bottle in a toast and then bit the cap off.
At Needles they turned north again. By the time they
reached Laughlin, Nevada, all three needed a bathroom break. Thelma
also needed a break from the insanity that two short timers with
little time left in uniform can produce. She pulled Jason aside
outside of the restrooms. “Let’s get off here.”
“But I thought that you wanted to see Las Vegas.”
“Maybe some other time. That long drive through the
desert wore me out. That and all the crazy talk and songs you two
kept on singing. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall? You’re
like a couple of crazy high school boys all liquored up and you
haven’t even been drinking. I’m scared of what will probably happen
if you’re anywhere near him in Las Vegas. One or both of you will
end up in jail for sure. Then we won’t get back home for the
wedding reception that our moms got all planned out for next
Saturday. They’re already plenty upset that we didn’t want to wait
to get married in Madisin.”
Jason scratched his chin, a habit he had learned from
Kong. If stopping off here made her happy, why not? His dad had
always said, “Anytime you can please a woman, go for broke.” So he
walked over to their driver to explain the change in plans. “Is
there any chapel here in town? Thelma’s not too up on going all the
way on to Las Vegas.”
“Sure is. Hop in and I’ll take you there in a
jiffy.”
The ceremony took twenty minutes, fifteen of which
were spent waiting for another couple to act as witnesses to Thelma
and Jason vowing to sail life’s seas “in sickness and health, for
richer or poorer till death do us part.” The newlyweds then
graciously served as witnesses for the ones who married after they
did.
Attached to the back of the wedding chapel was a
small house, home to Rev. and Mrs. Quantrum. A small sign at the
chapel’s front door told customers to ring the doorbell below it.
Doing so set off a loud buzzer in the house and brought one of the
two to usher the couple into the pews. So far, Rev. Quantrum had
married 14,298 couples but business had dropped off since the war
ended and the flow of those in uniform migrating through southern
California slowed from a flood to a trickle. But there was always
some couple eloping, divorcee marrying on the rebound, or other
lonely souls in a hurry to tie the knot. The Quantrums closed the
chapel for a two-week vacation annually. Otherwise it was open
seven day a week, twenty-four hours a day, rain or shine.
After counting their remaining money, Mr. and Mrs.
Dalrumple checked into a cheap motel that came furnished with
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