I Am Lucius van Dyke III

“What happened to your dad?” asked Carrie.

“I don’t know. He just said that he had to go and that was it.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Could I bum a smoke?” Noel asked Carrie.

“Sure, hun.”

I shot Noel a dirty look. We had both promised to give up smoking when we moved out to Los Angeles. Noel looked at me and shrugged as she drew a cigarette out of Carrie’s cigarette case. Noel picked up Carrie’s lighter and drew the cigarette to life. Read the rest of this entry »

While the busload of us were waiting for the police to arrive, Gary made everyone all kinds of balloon animals. I got a giraffe and Noel got a particularly fetching dachshund made from a blue and white striped balloon. The cops got a really good chuckle out of seeing greasy little Stevie writhing on the floor, tied up with a clown’s trick handkerchiefs. They hauled little Stevie out of the bus and into the back of their Crown Vic. Finally, we were back on the road.

We rolled into Vegas at about two in the morning, past the bright lights of the casinos, past the late night wedding chapels, and on in to the Greyhound bus station. Read the rest of this entry »