The Life of Oddley - Episode 11

THIS WEEK'S EPISODE - "The Road to California", Part Two

Hello, my loyal followers, and welcome to the 11th week of "The Life of Oddley".  With my series entering a third month without word of how I'm doing, I'm beginning to think that Oddley's story is falling on deaf ears.  Nonetheless, I will continue to present his story as he tells it to me.  Lying can get you places.

Back to our story.  Last week, we began the third serial of the series with Oddley's final departure out of Tulsa with the help of his new friend Rita Louise.  Getting out on a friendly note was Oddley's hope.  However, that hope was stashed when Rita proceeded to smoke a joint.  Oddley managed to gain control of the car but not of the original driver.

Soon enough, lunchtime came and Oddley stopped for a bite to eat, hoping no one would notice the drugged Rita, dazed in the passenger seat.  This is not to be, as Oddley noticed a cop eating at the same place.  Keeping an eye on the cop and Rita proved to be a bit tiresome, but not as tiresome as when he gained the attention of the cop, who has begun walking over to Oddley and Rita... 

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As he walked over, I saw the look on his face. It was of a stern expression, directed at both me and Rita. I quickly turned back to Rita, still being silent towards me. However, I couldn't keep doing that, because he soon walked up to my window with a slight grin.

"Howdy, son." he said to me.

"Hello, sir." I said as I turned his way.

"I'm sergeant Sherman J. Williamson. What's your name, boy?" he said.

"I'm Oddley Mitchell." I said.

"Oddley? What a weird name, boy. Who named ya?" he said.

"My mother did, sir." I said.

"Where are you from, boy?" he asked.

"Chicago, Illinois." I said.

"A city boy, I see." he said.

"That's right." I said.

"I have a question I wanna ask you, son." he said.

"Ask away, officer." I said, with a gulp.

"Do they have police officers in Chicago, boy?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, we do." I said.

"Then why are you starin' at me? Haven't you ever seen a cop?" he asked.

"Yes, sir." I said.

"Then why look at me like you ever haven't seen one?" he asked me.

"Because... I was concerned?" I said.

"I see you have a passenger, boy." he said, pointing out Rita.

"Her name's Rita, sir. Rita Louise." I said.

"Mighty nice name. Better than yours, son." he said.

"I'll keep that in mind." I said.

"She looks a little off, son. Care to explain it?" he said.

"Well, sir... she's sick." I said, after a few moments to think up an excuse to give.

"Sick, boy?" he said.

"Yes, sir." I said.

"Well, she does look a little ill to me, with that glazed look in her eyes." he said.

"After I finish eating, I'm gonna take her to the hospital." I said.

"See that you do, boy. I must be goin' now. Take care." he said as he then walked back to his car.

"That was close." I said to himself.

In short order, the food arrived and I quietly ate my burger, while I saved Rita's for when she would return to normal. Once I had finished in silence, I quickly started the car and headed away from the drive-in and the cop and slowly continued my way westward. Within a minute, I managed to depart the small town.

My progress across the rest of the state was slow and steady. As I looked ahead, I kept an open ear for when Rita would stir out of her high and back into normal reality. That moment came an hour into the car, me, and her car's time in Texas, our second-largest land. It came none too soon.

"Oh, man." she said, her first words in four hours.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"As much as one can after doing that." she said with a air of remorse.

"You should be used to that by now." I said to her.

"How can I? That was my first time." she said.

"Then why act if you had been doing it for a long time?" I asked.

"It was something I told myself, and you, to hide the fact that it was my first time using." she said.

"Where did you even get that stuff?" I asked.

"The last friend I met before you handed to me and said, 'enjoy the trip.'." she said.

"You could have tossed it." I said.

"I decided to try it." she said.

"And driving a car was the time to do it?" I said.

"A laspe in judgment." she said.

"I can see that already." I said.

"From now on, I'll just stay with the usual." she said.

"And what is that, pray tell?" I asked with a leer.

"Good old cigarettes." she said as she took a pack of them out of the glove box.

"I'll take a pass on those, too." I said as she took one of the pack.

"Suit yourself. You need to get out more." she said as she put it in her mouth.

"I live my life that way I wish to, not what others want me to." I said.

"That's how I live my life, probably a bit more than you." she said as she lit up.

"I can see that. The more and more I get to know you, the more I realize that you're a free spirit, moving with the breeze." I said, two steps from a song lyric.

"I am the girl named Rita Louise." she said, completing my lyric without asking.

"I wish I had a piece of paper and a pencil. I could impress my band with that." I said.

"You have a band?" she asked, taking a puff.

"I just joined before I left. The name of the group is the Pickadillies, spelled P-I-C-K-A-D-I-L-L-I-E-S." I said.

"What's interesting about that?" she asked.

"That's not how the Brits spell it." I said.

"Leave it to musicians to spell things correctly." she said.

"'She's a free spirit, moving along with the breeze, the young girl named Rita Louise'." I sang.

"That's good. You belong in a band." she said.

"You're the first person in my life to say that." I said.

"Glad to be the first." she said, taking another puff.

Texas, after a drive through the streets of Amarillo, became the deserts of New Mexico. This ancient land looked as old as it should. The mountains and plains mixed well here. By now, Rita was on her second ciggy and it seemed to calm her down a bit better than the joint ever did.

The sun was beginning to set as we made our way towards Albuquerque, the mainstay town in this part of the state. As the sun began to touch the horizon, I was beginning to suffer from white line fever, from having stared at it for hours and hours. I was also getting tired of changing stations once in a while.

Pretty soon, the idea of lodgings came to my mind. The main thought I had was how to fit Rita in. It was to be a hard task. The motel stay back in Tulsa was all Brooke's doing and I just followed. I thought about using her method but I didn't trust Rita enough to go along with the idea.

As the sun was sinking below the horizon, we arrived on the outskirts of Albuquerque. I decided that I couldn't hold off on the lodging question without running into the desert pass the city for miles and hours. I saw a motel sitting on the side of the road. Quickly, I pulled off the road and into a parking spot near the front office.

"Rita?" I said to my passenger.

"Yes?" she said back.

"How far can I trust you?" I asked her.

"Very far, indeed." she said, putting out her cigarette.

"You know that we need a room for the night." I said.

"I know that." she said.

"I've been thinking. We're gonna have to share a room." I said.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked me.

"People frown to two unmarried people, especially when one is male and the other female." I said.

"You're being kind of a prude about this." she said.

"I'm open minded. Not these people." I said.

"So how do we get the room?" she asked.

"I'll get the room and I'll let you in." I said.

"Is that a good idea?" she said.

"It's the only idea." I said.

"If that's the truth." she said.

With a quick gulp, I got out of the car and did the slow walk into the front office. It was an unassuming place, with an unassuming desk clerk, in his mid-30s, with greased hair, a nice button shirt and vest. A typical motel clerk, in all.

"Hello, good sir." said the clerk.

"Yes, I would like a room." I said as I reached the front desk.

"I see. Let me see what I have." he said, walking over to the wall of keys.

He spent a moment, looking over those keys, hanging from their hooks, before he took one off the wall and walked back over to me.

"Here's your room. Number 120." he said.

"Thanks." I said.

"That'll be twenty bucks, please." he said.

"Right. Here you are." I said, handing over the amount.

"Just sign the book and you've got a room." he said, pointing out a open book on the desk.

"Right." I said as I put my name in there.

"Enjoy the room." he said to me as I made a path out of there.

"That was close." I said to myself as I walked back to the car.

"Did you get it?" asked Rita when I got to the car.

"Room 120. Meet me there." I said, now making a bee-line for the room.

Rita got out of the car and followed me to the room. Once I opened the door, we got a good look inside. I looked like the room I had back in Tulsa, complete with the television and the table. I did notice something else.

"There's only one bed." I said to Rita.

"So?" she asked me.

"Remember what I told you about how people view two unmarried people, one male, one female, sharing a room?" I asked.

"You told me that." she said.

"Well, the same goes for a bed. I mean, a male has those feelings when she shares a close space with a female." I said.

"You can keep those feelings in check?" she asked.

"I can, and I will." I said.

"Then, let's ready for the night." she said, heading back for the car.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Getting my suitcase." she said.

An hour later, I was laying in bed, watching television as Rita readied herself for bed. I must admit, having had worn the same clothes for three days straight was odd to me. Rita had put on that see-throught nightie and I was trying to keep my eyes on the screen.

"How many times can Dr. Smith prevent those Robinsons from getting back to Earth?" I asked myself.

"Must you watch those awful science fiction shows?" asked Rita, brushing her hair in front of a mirror.

"Don't bad-mouth these shows. They're a look into things we don't understand." I said.

"What's there to understand about cardboard monsters?" she said.

"They're not cardboard. They're the reflection of our fears." I said.

"Science fiction is not for intelligent people." she said as she put the brush down.

"Ever heard of Issac Asimov? Arthur C. Clarke? Robert Heinlein?" I asked her.

"No, I haven't." she said.

"The science fiction authors and they're the most intelligent people around." I said.

"Whatever you say." she said, walking over to the bed.

"Just wait until Friday night at 8:30 pm. I'll show you intelligent science fiction." I said as she climbed into the bed.

"I'll remember that." she said.

"Good night to you." I said.

"Get under the covers." she said.

"No way." I said.

"Why not?" she asked me.

"Because I wish to keep a simple morality between you and me." I said.

"Afraid you'll do something you'll regret?" she asked me.

"Sort of." I said.

"I think two unmarried people can sleep in the same bed without anything happening." she said.

"I believe that, too, but I don't think I could stand the test without help." I said.

"What kind of help?" she asked.

"The kind of help a very used motel bedsheet can provide." I said.

"That's almost funny." she said.

"What would you do if I was to... seduce you?" I asked her.

"Nothing wrong with a little nighttime loving." she said with a sly grin.

"I'll keep to myself tonight." I said.

"Suit yourself." she said as she headed off to sleep.

I spent some more time watching television. Eventually, my eye lids grew too heavy and I drifted off to dreamland. I don't remember what I dreamed that night but it must have been uimportant if I can't recall it.

The next morning did arrive. As I opened my eyes, it took a moment to focus them to see the early morning light pouring into the room from the curtained window. I looked to my left to say good morning to Rita but I saw that side of the bed vacant.

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Has Rita left Oddley?  It seems like it.  With the ocean in reach, is Oddley finally marooned elsewhere for good?  The only way that you'll get the answer to these and any other questions on your mind is to come back next week and find out the usual way, by reading.
 
Next week, we finally conclude the third serial of the series and Oddley's long journey when he manages to reach the Pacific Ocean at last.  It'll be a sight Oddley will never forget and neither will you as Oddley tells us of one thing he needs to do in California.
 
That's on Thursday, October 20th, at 2:30 pm, here on the John Maxwell Blog.
 
Until then, this is John Maxwell, saying that there are many roads in life, but choose the one that was recently paved for the smoothest ride...