Marlon Brando, Pocahontas, and Me - Part Four
Avon + (??) Scientology = horses, electrons and New Mexican sunsets...
Read Part One here and then read Part Two here then read Part Three!
The man knelt in the sand. He stared at the small pile of rocks he created, lifted one with specks of green and black, held it toward the sun, set it down, lifted another. His bracelet caught the light, cast spark and shadow across his chest. I could see a lettered inscription along the band, but his motions were too quick, too sure for me to read. He stuffed a flat black rock under one front wheel, a rounded red stone under the other. I wiped my forehead with one hand. He removed his sunglasses and stuck them in his front shirt pocket.
The cries of a bird in the distance sailed across the grassland. He sounded like no bird I knew, a long drawn death rattle call. It echoed off the sides of the distant mesa, and I could tell from the vibration that the bird flew fast, flew fierce.
"Ok, Princess Leia, let me slide inside."
I self-consciously lifted one hand to feel the twisted hair beside my right ear, one-half of my cinnamon bun pairs, and I felt ridiculous, like an Avon wallflower geek. I stepped away from the car. I wondered if my lipstick smudged into my cheek. I glanced at my black t-shirt and saw a ring of sweat around the neckline. Gross. I felt his eyes follow my spastic motions.
"Princess, I'm going to buck your car into position. Spin it. Spin. Everything has spin. It's what makes you move at an angle to the direction of the field, jump a highway shoulder. All of nature follow the same rules."
I didn't answer. The man ducked into my car. The top of his head nearly touched the roof. He located the adjustments for the seat, then surveyed the controls. He turned the key and the echo of Neil Young and rumble exhaust filled the prairie. I waved my arms, ran to the front of the car, grabbed his hat. I shoved it on my head, and it fell to my ears, resting on my Star Wars buns. He smiled, gave me the thumbs up sign. A scrawny black labrador with a notch in one ear crossed the road a hundred yards ahead. I breathed deep. The hat smelled like licorice and sage.
Spin. I tried to understand what he meant. Jumping isn't spinning, is it? My car leapt once, twice, three times, then four, pushed the retaining rocks into sand-covered space, leapt the hollow, leapt the highway, landed parallel and perfect the very second Neil Young finished his song, rested just two feet from the horse trailer. The man leaned his head out of the window. His hair covered one eye as he turned back to look at me.
"You don't say much for a Princess."
To Be Continued...
8:41:56 PM 
|
|
