Childlike

Chapter 23 Tahoe!

Chapter 23

Tahoe!

“We’ll be back on Friday around 5:30 in the evening,” I told Missy through the open window of the Cortina. “I’ll call you when we get in so you won’t have to wait around.”

“Waiting’s okay,” Chucky said from the passenger seat, clearly enjoying being so close to Missy.

“Missy only lives fifteen minutes from here,” I explained. “We’ll just call and you can come pick us up.”

“Just call, I’ll be home,” Missy said. “Have a good time.”

“While we’re young,” Mick said, urging me to say good-bye and be done with it.

“Yes indeed, while we’re young,” Chucky laughed.

“Okay, we’ll see you in three days” I told them. “Remember, about 5:30 in the evening.”

“Got it,” Chucky assured me.

“Don’t worry Josh,” Missy said. “You act like I’m a kid or something.”

“Ah today!” Mick exclaimed. “We’re going to miss the bus.”

“Alright, we’ll see you Friday,” I said.

“Lord willing,” Missy added.

“Vaya con Dios,” Chucky said.

“Ah me, me” Mick squealed.

“Bye,” I said. Then Missy pulled away from the curb and into the wet, rainy street past the double-parked cars and beggars with cardboard signs asking for money. I watched until the Cortina’s taillights disappeared from view.

“She’ll do fine,” Mick said assuringly.  “Besides, what could possibly happen in three days?”

“A lot!” I exclaimed. “The battle of Gettysburg took place over three days. They call it the turning point of the war. Chucky’s parents met and three days later were married.  Jesus died on the cross and rose from the grave on the third day. A lot can happen in three days.”

“She’s not even going to drive your car, except to go home and come pick us up. Relax!”

“Relax?” I let out a breath. “Yes I can do that. At least when we get on the bus.” I told him.

“How about some breakfast first?” Mick suggested, pointing towards the Queen Burger counter inside the bus terminal.

“I could go for a ham and cheese croissant,” I said agreeing, opening the door to the terminal. “And something hot to drink.”

The terminal looked like most bus stations, run down and well used. The linoleum was cracked and ripped, the walls an ashen white color, the paint chipped and peeling. The plastic molded chairs were even broken in spots, as if vandals had come in and had a musical chair contest and the losers were not good sports about it. But the Queen Burger counter was clean and full of life, everything looking new. I suppose that they have a reputation to uphold. Eat Like Royalty.

We ordered croissants, bacon and egg for Mick, ham and cheese for me. I had coffee, he had milk. We sat in two of the worn plastic chairs that were functionally okay, which was a small miracle, for all the rest were full of senior citizen passengers longing for the slot machines of Lake Tahoe. “Are you going to gamble in Tahoe?” A sweet looking grandma type asked me when I had finished my croissant.

“No ma’am, we’re going up to see some snow,” I answered her.

“That’s nice. My husband and I use to ski up there when we were youngsters. You ever ski?”