The Life of Oddley - Episode 9

THIS WEEK'S EPISODE - "Stuck in Tulsa", Part Five

Greetings, people, and welcome to another episode of "The Life of Oddley".  I haven't seen much input regarding last week's postings dealing with the shows I would pitch to television but I will be patient and wait for your word.

Now, back to our story.  Last week, Oddley finally decided to leave Brooke behind after she decided to stay at the hospital to tend to Roy.  With Brooke out of the picture, Oddley now went ovet his options.  While making a lunchtime visit to go over those options, he finds a new friend.  Her name is Rita and she proves to be a good person. 

Oddley, after lunch, accepts a visit to Rita's house, which is an old house.  This renders Oddley without words as he settles in.  As we last left him, he was trying his best to break the ice...

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"Well, what shall we do now?" I said after a minute or two.

"How about some more drinks, of the evening variety?" suggested Rita.

"You mean, liquor?" I asked.

"That's right." she said.

"I should tell you, I'm only 20." I said.

"I won't tell if you won't." she said.

"I guess so." I said.

"Now, what'll you have?" she asked me as she walked to a drink-mixing kit on the far side of the room.

"Surprise me, for I have no experience in ordering drinks." I said.

"Surely, you've had a few." she said.

"Only beer." I said.

"So, you've been drinking." she said.

"Only for two years, and in only one place." I said.

"I see." she said.

"It's just how I operate." I said.

"Well, I operate a little differently." she said.

"That I've noticed." I said.

"Here you go." she said as she put down a finished drink.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A nice whiskey sour, all ready to go." she said.

"Thanks." I said.

As I took a sip, I felt the whiskey flow throught me. It was a good feeling, one I had never felt before. I proceed to continue sipping slowly while Rita made herself one and joined me on the couch.

"So, what do you wanna talk about?" asked Rita, taking a sip.

"Nothing on my mind right now." I said.

"Give it time." she said.

"Give what time?" I asked.

"The drink. It'll give you something to talk about." she said.

"I hope so, because I need it." I said.

"Maybe I can start by asking where you're from, because you told me that you needed a place to stay." she said.

"I'm from Chicago." I said.

"That's a big city. Are you a native?" she said.

"Born and raised, and now working." I said.

"Not now." she said.

"Not right now, but usually. I have three weeks off and I've already spend one week working." I said.

"Working where?" she asked.

"At a science lab, working as an assistant to a female scientist." I said.

"How well did that go?" she then asked.

"Well, I was almost killed by a muscle man on a untested chemical, saw the doctor in her birthday suit, and uncovered the means by which I left Chicago." I said.

"And what was it?" she asked.

"Well, I found this chemical that turns any woman into a raging nymphomaniac. I called it nympho-drops." I said.

"Interesting discovery." she said.

"I then used those drops on my sister to cancel a gambling debt, which worked." I said.

"Then what happened?" she asked.

"The next morning, I went back to my sister's place to collect the stuff, which I had left there, and found her taking a little more than you should." I said.

"How does all of this make you leave Chicago?" she asked.

"Well, in my long-distance run from my chemically-altered sibling, I actually ran into a car, which belong to a housewife, who decided to go on a trip, with me along." I said.

"How did that happened?" she asked.

"I used her car to hide from my sister and wasn't able to bail beforehand." I said.

After a few more minutes, I had finished my drink, so Rita refreshed our glasses and returned to the couch. I soon drank that down and moved on to a third. By that time, I had told Rita everything about my time with Brooke, in detail. She just took it in and let me roar on like the drunk I was being.

I don't know how many whiskey sours I drank, but it was enough to put a gap in my memory, because the next one took place in the late evening, as the sun was setting in the distance. I was watching some television as my memory returned to me. I saw that Rita was watching with me.

"Having a nice nap, man?" I heard Rita ask me.

"Did I take one?" I asked.

"Yes, you did." said Rita.

"Then it must have been a good one, because I don't remember taking one." I said.

"My friend Lisa has does gaps, too." she said.

"Do you fill her in once she comes to?" I asked.

"I don't, but with you, I can. You were just napping." she said.

"Good to know. I needed that." I said.

"Listen, I've been thinking about what you said, about continuing westward." she said.

"I've always wanted to see the ocean." I said.

"Well, maybe I can take you the rest of the way." she said.

"You don't have to do that." I said.

"But I want to. I'm beginning to really like you and I wanna see you happy." she said.

"That's nice to know. I guess I could take you up on that." I said.

"You'll won't be sorry you did." she said with a giggle.

All that drinking must have short-circuited my thinking, because I was now about to take a car ride with a person I had known for less than 24 hours. Then again, I knew Brooke less than ten minutes before I decided to travel with her. Maybe it's a weakness in me that I just can't get rid of.

That night, I dreamt that I was back in Chicago after a long trip. Things were normal at first. I was at work, where I saw Gilda, just working away stacking cans in the same way that I did when I first met her a couple of weeks ago, before this whole thing even started.

"It feels good to be back." I said to her as I walked up.

"I know it. Did your trip go well?" said Gilda.

"As well as can be expected." I said.

"How was the ocean?" she then asked.

"Wet. Very wet." I said.

"Good, good. Met any famous people?" she said.

"Not that I saw, maybe once or twice." I said.

"Maybe you'll remember." she said.

I then moved on. I decided to scan the aisles before learning what job I had at the store that day. The first aisle I visited was normal. It was full of people, getting items and such. There was a whining child and his nervous mother as they fought over an item that he wanted but she didn't.

As I rounded the corner into the next aisle, I saw it. It was the bloodied body of Newshaw, laying stiff, face-down, in the middle of the aisle. I ran over to it and checked for a pulse but found none. He was dead, all right. The question was: what killed him. I looked the body over and found where the blood was coming from.

It was coming from his midsection. I looked around a bit before I turned him over. There, I saw a horrible sight. I can't describe it fully, but let's just say that a certain organ, common to all males, was torn to bits and/or missing. The mystery deepened for me as I looked down at the awful sight.

I then heard footsteps behind me. Slowly, I turned around and saw that it was my sister, but not the way she should be. Instead, it was the thing that had forced me to leave Chicago, but much more than what I saw then. It was a pure monster, with evil eyes and large muscled frame, staring at me.

I could tell that there was only one lone thought on her mind, and it was that thought that had killed Newshaw dead. Quickly, I ran down the aisle away from her but she gave me chase, just like last time. I threaded my way through the aisles, ever thinking of the idea that this time, running wouldn't help me.

I had only one option: the front door. Quickly, I ran as fast I could to the front door. When I got there, I saw my sister, pacing back and forth like a lion, waiting for its dinner to arrive. I was trapped, and there was no way. I tried to run away but I ran into the cans that Gilda was stacking before and made another discovery.

It was Gilda, and she, too, was dead. This time, anything sexual on her was gone and she was just a dead body. The monster-Susan heard the crash and raced towards me. I grabbed some cans and threw them at her, but she just ate them. She pounced onto me and was about to cut into me when I heard it.

It was the ringing of an alarm clock. My eyes sprung open and I was back in Rita's living room, sleeping on the couch. I looked around and saw the thing causing the noise. I shut it off and then realized that it wasn't there last night. Rita must have put it there after I'd dozed off.

The time on it was 7:45 am. The sun was rising and I was alone in there. I got up and looked around a bit for her. I headed upstairs to see if she was still asleep. I saw that the bedroom doors were open. I looked into one and saw that it must be Lisa's room, due to the decor.

It was covered in little furnishings, except for a bed, bedside table, make-up table, and three chairs. Lisa struck me as the plain and simple type, the opposite of Rita. I tried to figure out how could this person live with Rita, unless there was something else I wasn't aware of. I then moved on and continued looking.

I looked into the second room on my search and discovered Rita's room. Her room was covered in spendor. Colorful paint filled the walls. The furniture within was the best one could get around here. The bed alone was classic 19th century sleeping place, with frills and bows all around it.

Inside the bed, under lace covers, was the sleeping Rita. For a moment, I thought about awakening her, but I decided to let her sleep. She looked so peaceful to me. Her dreams must be the best ever, compared to what I had last night. Quietly, I reversed course and started back downstairs.

A quick bowl of cereal became my breakfast as 8:00 am arrived. From upstairs, I heard a beautful ring, the sound of Rita's alarm clock. I ate my cereal slowly, as I always do, to let it one bite settle before the next one, and also to think. I thought about the day before and how I'd left Brooke behind.

After a minute, my ear picked up the sound of footsteps coming from upstairs. They slowly moved down the stairs. The footsteps reached the bottom of the steps. I realized that Rita wasn't wearing shoes because the steps sounded soft, not hard. She then entered the kitchen and my eyes almost left their sockets.

I saw that Rita was wearing a nightie, but not a normal one. I was that it was a mini-skirted type of nightie, complete with lace trim. Another thing about it was that it was see-through. In a way, it was like she wasn't wearing it. The morning sun wasn't helping by shining light through the thing, showing everything.

"Good morning, Oddley." she said with a smile.

"And a good morning to you." I said.

"I see you're having breakfast." she said.

"That I am." I said.

"I'll make myself a bowl and join you." she said.

That she did and in a minute, was sitted across from me. I saw that the nightie was really see-through, even without sunlight. It had a low neckline and showed a lot of chest. I had only known Rita for almost a day and yet, I feel no romantic or sexual feelings towards her.

"What's wrong?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"What?" I said.

"You looked distracted." she said.

"I am, a bit." I said.

"On what?" she asked.

"On your... bedroom attire." I said.

"What about it?" she asked.

"It's... showing me more of you than I wish to see." I said.

"Don't you like my body?" she asked with a grin.

"Very much. In fact, you have a lovely... shade of skin." I said.

"I thought you were gonna say chest." she said.

"That, too, as well." I said.

"Don't worry. I'm an open and honest person and I feel that the human body is a beautiful thing." she said.

"Whatever floats your boat." I said.

I finished my breakfast and so did she. After a moment, she retreated back up the stairs to get ready for the trip. Meanwhile, I took another tour of the living room. I had only been in the house less than a day and yet, I felt the history it must have contained. I sure looked old and the stories it could've told me if I only had time.

Time was something I didn't have on this trip. Mr. Randall had only given me three weeks off and I had wasted one week at that lab and the first three days of this week in Tulsa. By my count, I only had 12 days left of my vacation and I intended to spend most of it looking out at the Pacific Ocean.

Eventually, 9:00 am rolled around. That was the time that me and Rita had agreed to begin the trip. I was standing next to the car itself, an old white Chevy, with about over tens of thousands of miles on it, when I saw Rita exit the house with a suitcase. She was dressed in practically the same clothes as yesterday, except the turtleneck was blue.

"I see you've managed to dress today." I said as she walked up to me.

"You need to free up your mind." said Rita.

"I've tried. Believe me, this past couple of weeks has given me cause to do so." I said as Rita put the suitcase in the trunk.

"You need to free it up some more. After all, what happened in the kitchen shows that your mind is still a bit closed." she said as she walked over to the driver's side door.

"I'll remember that, Rita, if you ever decide to go without that nightie for a night." I said, opening the passenger's side door.

"Be careful, Oddley. You might get your wish." she said as she got in.

"I've heard that before." I said as I got in.

"Ready for this?" she asked me.

"As ready as I can get." I said.

"Then here we go." she said as she started the car.

The car roared to wonderful life in the mid-morning atmosphere. It took a moment to get ready and then, Rita began to move the car out of the driveway. Within a minute, the car was in the street and with a roar, moved forward and westward towards California.

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This concludes our second serial on "The Life of Oddley".  Next week, we begin our third serial, a short one titled "The Road to California".  Over the three parts of the serial, Rita takes Oddley from Tulsa to the shores of the ocean.  Along the way, Oddley learns what kind of person he has put his trust into.
 
Next week, Oddley and Rita have an interesting start to their journey.  That interesting start leads to a lunchtime stop, complete with the threat of jail time hanging over the travelers' heads.  What can it be?  Tune in and find out.
 
Until next week, this is John Maxwell, reminding all that the man who has all his cars has a good train running on the tracks of his mind...