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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1623255
Lives of many are brought together at an RV resort in Las Vegas seeking happiness.
The Babe’s of Snafu Lane



Chapter One



Francois couldn’t sleep. It was to hot to sleep. The air was thick and heavy. Not the norm for Las Vegas. It felt like the weather back in east Texas. Though rare, nights like this made her hate Las Vegas. It never cooled down. There was little difference separating the days from the nights. They just seemed to melt together and stretch out forever. It was to hot to eat, to walk, to talk, or to even think. Francois hated the heat and how it affected her, but even more, she hated how it didn’t seem to affect Hutch at all. He was sleeping soundly beside her. Earlier he had wanted to make love but she had refused. Not out of a sense of not wanting to particularly, but more from a lack of energy that the heat had managed to drain from her. Nothing seemed to help. There was no breeze tonight. There was not even a hint of one. Instead of torturing herself any further listening to Hutch sleep, Francois decided to go outside to seek some semblance of relief from the heat.

The moon was full and was doing it’s best to compete with the bright lights of Las Vegas. Francois could just see the lights of the famous Las Vegas strip to the north. The white lights illuminating the gold of Mandalay Bay and the forest green which engulfed the MGM Hotel were the two most visible to her from trailer. Francois could easily read the name Mandalay Bay on the top of the enormous structure. They appeared closer than they actually were. Even though the name atop the Mandalay Bay was visible, she knew that it was almost six miles away.

Outside, although there was no breeze, the air seemed cooler than the hot, stuffy air in the trailer. Fifth wheels, travel trailers, and motor coaches were notorious for there ability to absorb the heat of the day with the sun beating down on them, and then stingily holding it in throughout the night. And the one which she shared with Hutch was supposed to be one of the better insulated models though the air conditioner rarely shut off.

Outside Francois’s mood began to improve. She had made a glass of iced tea which she brought outside with her that seemed to offer some cooling comfort. She held the chilled glass against her forehead and cheek cooling her skin immediately. She watched with fascination the procession of planes at McCarran Airport a few miles to the north. Looking to the east she counted six planes in various stages of landing. At any one time she could count twelve to fifteen planes in the skies over Las Vegas. The skies were filled with people either coming to or leaving out of Las Vegas. A river of people and money destined to feed the needs of this ever addictive city.

Sitting comfortably in her wicker chair, Francois dosed off, the iced tea having done the trick. She awoke to a strong smell of cigarette smoke. She opened her eyes and was somewhat startled to see a figure in the chair just opposite her.

“Who’s there?” she gasped, not yet fully awake, but straining to see in the darkness. “Hutch, is that you?”

“No, sweet pea, it’s me”, said the voice from the shadow.

“Oh! Hank! You are absolutely the worst. You scared the hell out of me! What time is it, anyway?” Francois asked as she struggled to shake the grogginess from her mind. She stood up and stretched her arms above her head. She must have slept for quite a while.
The moon was now far to the west and a hint of light shown across the eastern horizon.

Hank used his lighter to read his watch. “It’s just coming up on five o’clock”, he said. “Sorry that I startled you”. I just got back to town an hour ago and I can never get to sleep right away after a long drive. I guess I get to wound up”.

“I’m going to get more iced tea”, Francois said. “Would you like one?”

“Sure”, Hank said. That would be great, thanks”.

While getting the tea, Francois decided to freshen up. She told herself it was to wash the sleep from her eyes, but what she really wanted was to make herself presentable for Hank. She washed her face and brushed out her dark reddish hair and put it in a pony tail. Her hair was getting long now and she wanted to get it cut especially with the summer heat of Las Vegas coming. Francois took heart in the fact that, even at her age, she didn’t need to wear makeup. Only occasionally did she bother to apply lipstick or eye makeup. She had been wearing a sheer night gown and robe. She changed to a pair of blue shorts and a white sleeveless top. Even with all the noise that she was making in their fifth wheel as she dressed, Hutch never awoke. He rolled over once and mumbled something inaudible but quickly returned to a deep sleep.

When Francois came out with the iced tea, Hank was leaning against the wall that ran the perimeter of the park gazing at the mountains to the southeast that were just starting to take shape in the early morning light. Francois noticed Hanks tall, lean frame silhouetted in the pre-dawn light. He was certainly a striking figure especially in his cowboy hat which only added to his six foot, three inch frame.

“So, what’s Hutch up to?” Hank inquired as he reached for the glass of iced tea from Francois. “I take it that he’s inside asleep since his car’s here”.

“Yes, he’s in bed sleeping as soundly as ever”, Francois said remembering her frustration with his apparent immunity to the heat. “He actually stayed home last night. Maybe there were no games to bet on. Maybe he’s gambled away all of our money”, Francois added.

She took another sip of her tea as she considered the perils of being penniless if Hutch had indeed managed to lose all of their money. The thought scared her so she quickly abandoned the notion.

“I doubt that’s that that’s the case, though”, Francois added. “Even Hutch wouldn’t be able to sleep so soundly if he had gone and lost all of our money”.

“He probably just took the night off”, Hank offered. “I suspect that even gamblers take a day off now and then”.

“He makes me crazy. You know how he is, Hank. Our livelihood and the state of his moods depend entirely on the outcome of some sporting event. Living with such uncertainty makes me a little crazy. I mean, how can that be his job? Why can’t he have a normal job like most men?”

I don’t know”, Hank said. “Everybody’s got to be what they are and I guess it was Hutch’s lot in life to be a gambler”.

“I suppose that it’s my lot in life then to be a gambler’s wife”, Francois stated more as a question though.

Hank looked directly at Francois. She was beautiful. In fact, to Hank she was the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen. He longed for her as he had every day and night since they had met three months ago. He set his glass of tea onto the wall and put his arms around Francois’s waist and drew her to him. She felt so soft and warm against his skin. At that moment he wanted her. He wanted to make love to her there and then. But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to. Francois wouldn’t and that made him want all the more.

As he reached for her though, Francois didn’t resist him. She allowed herself to be engulfed in his arms. She could feel his strength as he held her. In spite of his muscles that came from a lifetime of ranch work, there existed gentleness and a softness in his touch to which her body responded with ease. They stood for several minutes locked in their embrace, neither wanting it to end.

“Oh, Hank”, Francois sighed. “Why does life have to be so difficult”?

“I guess that’s just the way of things”, Hank said continuing to hold tight to Francois. “I reckon that life is just a series of situations that we are busy either getting ourselves into or out of. Hell! Look at me. A few months ago, I was freezing my butt off in Colorado watching over a bunch of cows, and now look at me. I am here in Las Vegas holding onto the most beautiful woman in the world”.


“You’re sweet, Hank”, Francois said as she shook her head. “But, I’m not that pretty anymore. I’m getting old and wrinkled, you know. In another week or two, I’ll be flabby and fat, as well.

“Why do you say things like that, Sweet Pea?” Hank asked. He couldn’t imagine why someone as beautiful as Francois would have such a view of themselves.

Francois stepped back and looked at Hank. “Oh, hell!” she sighed. “I suppose that I would look good to you, though. You’ve been looking at cows practically your whole life. I probably do look good to someone like that.”

Anyway, I’m just feeling sorry for myself lately”, she said as she took out a cigarette from Hank’s shirt pocket. “Maybe that’s part of getting old too,” she added.

“There must be something else that is bothering you, Francois,” Hank said. “This isn’t you. You know that you are still a beautiful woman. There ain’t a man anywhere that wouldn’t fall all over them just to you give them the time of day. What’s really bothering you?”

Hank followed her back to the gazebo where they both took seats in the rocking chairs that sat opposite each other. Hank remained quiet and reflective as he wondered about what might be troubling Francois. He was concerned because he was in love with her.

“Well, enough about my stupid life. Tell me about your trip. How were things in Colorado? Cooler than here, I imagine”, Francois said. She held the iced tea glass against her forehead and then alternately to each side of her neck. Í should have gone with you to get a break from this heat. I suppose Hutch could have managed with me gone for a while”, she added.

Hank removed his cowboy hat to scratch his head. Francois noticed that his hair was getting a little long, but it just added to the rugged features of his face. Hank was one of those men who looked good with or without a hat.

It was not lost on him that Francois had changed her clothes. She looked beautiful as always. Francois was definitely ‘a stunner’. At forty-one years old, anyone would easily guess her to be in her early thirties. She was one of those women whose looks could dazzle a man’s senses wearing only an old pair of sweat pants and a hooded sweat shirt. Francois was aware of her looks and the affect that they had on men, but she was not snobbish about it. She accepted attractiveness as being part of her fate, just as others had to accept their fates. Besides, even though she knew she was attractive, it seemed not that important to her. She liked to think that she would be the same person on the inside even if she had been born fat and ugly. Hank was smitten with her and she knew it. And he knew that she knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. He also knew that nothing would ever come of it. They would never be more than friends and that saddened him a little. Of course, there were always little flirtations between them and they left him hopeful. But, Francois was Hutch’s wife and while she may flirt, she was the kind of girl that would not take things any further. She was too proper to allow for that. But, it was nice to be able to hope for more.

“Well, it was a bit cooler there, I guess. It even snowed on us once when we were up in the higher pastures”. He watched Francois with mild amusement as she sought to cool her self down with the glass of tea. “We woke up one morning to about five inches of snow. It was that wet and heavy stuff that we can get in the late springtime up that high. Anyway, it sure taught us a good lesson because we weren’t expecting snow, we left a lot of gear around and some of our clothes got a little wet”.

“Did your brother go with you”? Francois asked. She had always liked Tom. She had met him a couple of times when he had come to Las Vegas to visit Hank. He was a lot like Hank, only a bit more settled.

“Yea, it was Tom and me, along with a couple of other cow hands that you wouldn’t know”, Hank said.

Francois asked taking a cigarette from Hank’s pack lying on the table. “Hell! Now look at me. Your back ten minutes and I start picking up your bad habits. I should steer clear of you anytime I see you coming”.

“I don’t make you start smoking. You just kind of start up every time I’m around you, I guess”. I mean it’s not like I’m forcing you, you know”, Hank said.

“Well, maybe not” Francois said, conceding the point. “I think that it’s just that you make me nervous, that’s all”.

“Oh! For God’s sake, Francois! How do I make you nervous?” Hank was surprised and his feelings slightly bruised.

“Don’t get so defensive. You just do, that’s all. All you men make me a little crazy. You just happen to make me a little crazier than some others. That’s all”.

“Sometimes you just plain don’t make any sense, Francois- absolutely none at all”.

Actually, it was in a lot of ways that Hank had the opposite effect on her that troubled Francois most. And that kind of scared her. It was unchartered territory for a woman who was used to making most men go weak just being in her presence. But, in his presence, she was completely relaxed. She felt more alive and interesting and content when he was around. Hank was so easy to talk to. Not like Hutch. Hutch was never much of a conversationalist. It just wasn’t his way to talk much. Conversation was not his strong suit. That was okay for the most part but it did cause Francois to seek an outlet for her need for it. She was left with a craving for conversation, conversation with anyone really. Hank was just the opposite of Hutch in that way. He loved to talk. He was bright and articulate, and attentive to her feelings. He also knew when to just be quiet and listen. He understood that there were just times when a woman needed to be able to let go of her thoughts. That was what Francois probably liked most about him. But, it wasn’t right and that was what upset her more than anything. It made her feel guilty and even a bit sad. It seemed wrong and even unnatural to be more relaxed and at ease when she was with Hank than she was when she was with Hutch. After all, Hutch was her husband.

She loved Hutch. She had always loved Hutch. They had been together for eight years now and they had always managed to work through their differences. They had always found a way to communicate. They had had to work at it, but then, what couple didn’t. Maybe that was what bothered her the most... With Hutch, she had to work at the relationship, and yet, with Hank, it didn’t seem like work at all. It just seemed to flow unimpeded.

Suddenly, Francois felt hungry for something to eat.

“I’m hungry. What time is it?” she asked.

“Just coming up on six”, Hank said.

“Well then, Hank Rucker, this is your lucky day. I doubt that Hutch will be up for at least a couple of hours yet and I’m in the mood for a veggie omelet. Rick’s should just be opening up. What do you say that you and I take a walk up there and then I’ll let you buy me breakfast?’

Hank agreed that that was just what was needed. He was relaxed and getting a bit tired from the drive, but a meal at Rick’s, especially with Francois, was to enticing to pass up.
Francois grabbed her yellow boa which she draped over her neck. She wore her boa’s everywhere anymore. She now had a collection of over one hundred in every color and style imaginable. Some, she knew, she probably had many duplicates of. Anyway, she got hooked on them when she met a new arrival in the park. Her name was Betty Dunn. She and her husband were in their seventies and retired.

They had a beautiful ‘Mountain Aire’ coach that was several years old. In it, they had spent the years since David’s retirement from business, traversing all of states including Alaska which they had been to four times, as well as, numerous trips into Canada and Mexico. They had even flown to Hawaii and rented coaches there just to be able to say that they had been to all fifty states.

To pass the time while on the road between destinations, Betty had begun making these colorful boas. In each park in which they stayed she could always be seen wearing one which invariably sparked interest by the residents. It had been no different at the ‘Oasis’. The Dunn’s been parked in a space just two down from where Francois and Hutch lived. Francois had met them on their first evening in the park. She had immediately taken a strong liking to Betty. Betty was spunky. She had a passion and a hobby of making and selling boas. She made them in every color imaginable, purple, yellow, red, green, and turquoise, among others. Always, they were vibrant and full of bright, cheerful colors. Each one was made from silk and approximately four to six feet in length.

Francois and some of the other long term residents took an instant liking to Betty and her colorful boas. Betty quickly sold all of her inventory of shawls. She even made an additional ten boas while staying at the ‘Oasis’ which she also sold. She left the park along with her husband bound for northern California, but not before promising to send an additional twenty to the ‘Oasis’ in care of, Francois Bloudroe. The boas were a big hit with the ladies at the resort. The tradition was now in place and one would be hard pressed to find one of the long term female residents out and about without wearing one of Betty Dunn’s colorful creations.

On their way to Rick’s café they passed under the large neon sign of yellow, blue, and purple lights. The sign was quite large and was mounted on a metal pole which stood some two hundred feet in the air. The sign was so large that it could easily be seen and read by people traveling I-15 and also the people on the southern end of Las Vegas Boulevard, the ‘strip’ as it is most commonly called. Each of the letters on the sign was four feet in height. The sign had a purple arc signifying a rainbow over a stripped highway with a blue palm tree beside it. The sign simply read, “Destiny RV Resort”.

The Destiny was home to a variety of people without homes, some out of choice, and others still, out of necessity. Some were there only a night, some a few days, while still others stayed for a few weeks or even months. Or as in the case of Francois and some others, a few years had managed to pass. Regardless, they all held one thing in common. Each, were in various states of moving on to something better.

To some degree and for some unknown reason, each had in their own way become vagabonds of the road. Each of them was seeking something different, and yet generally, for the same reasons, they grappled daily with the forces which drove them to a life on the road. It was both a curse and a blessing. They longed for a life that was less confining and stagnant. All in all, they longed for a life of uncertainty and adventure. Some would come to find peace and fulfillment on the road while others, sadly would find the road, and the need to be on it, an insatiable desire that would never quite be satisfied.

The moon which had valiantly competed with the bright lights of Las Vegas was now retreating behind the mountains to the west as Francois Bloudroe and Hank Rucker walked up the stairs to the resorts’ main complex which housed ‘Rick’s Café’.

As they passed by the fountain at the front doors, Francois suddenly stopped and looked at Hank.

“By the way, Hank, I think you should know that I’m taking you off my list of possible lovers”, Francois said coolly.

“I didn’t know that you had a list, or that I was even privileged enough to be included on it”, Hank said half surprised, half disappointed
.
“Well, maybe I do – but that’s should be of no concern to you now because you are not on it. It just occurred to me that you and I have absolutely nothing in common. Hell, I don’t even know why we’re friends”, Francois said. The more she thought about it the madder she was becoming.

“And, that’s another thing. Just why are we friends, Hank? Can you tell me that?”

Hank was kind of feeling that he had been blindsided by a runaway heifer back in Colorado. One that was always doing the improbable, doing just the opposite of what you intended or expected it to do.

“Well, I don’t rightly know, Francois,” Hank mused as he rubbed his chin in a thoughtful way. We just kind of became friends, I guess. Everybody says that opposites attract- maybe that’s what it is.”

Hank was a little unsure how and where this conversation had come from. But, that was the way with Francois sometimes. One moment you were talking calmly about the state of the world and the next, she would be on the attack.

“I guess that we’re friends because we just wanted to be”, he added. “That’ all there is to it, I suppose”.

Hank stopped to gaze back at Francois. Her frankness and directness was, at times, unnerving. She could sometimes put Hank’s emotions into a complete tailspin without any warning. It was a trait that both repelled him and drew him to her.

“No”, he finally said. “I suppose that we probably never will sleep together. Maybe, we will just go through life being friends”, he added.

“Well, I suppose that we could be just friends, but you’ve just got to understand that you can’t go hugging on me when I’ve been stricken with a strong dose of vulnerability,” Francois said, relaxing a bit. “And it’s your responsibility, Hank, to recognize when I am having, or about to have a vulnerable period. That’s the mark of a good friend.”

“Well, how do you suppose that I’m to know exactly when you’re in the throws of this
Vulnerability thing?” asked Hank, wondering if going to breakfast with Francois, or even if coming back from Colorado was such a good idea or not.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure,” Francois announced thoughtfully. “But then it’s not my job to know. You’re the man and that’s part of your duties in life. So you had better find a way of knowing if you ever expect our friendship to flourish,” Francois said with a sense of contentment.

“Anyway, I just needed to get it said. You can be my friend, but only if you behave,” she added.

“Besides, we both know this has been hanging over us since the day we met and its high time one of us got it said. It was clear to me that you weren’t going to address it, so as usual, it was left up to the woman to get it said.”

Upon seeing the shock, hurt and sadness all displayed on Hank’s face, Francois, instinctively and without thinking, leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Trust me, we’ll be better friends because we got this out in the open”, she said as she turned and looped her arm through his.

From Francois point of view a great weight had been lifted. A mighty giant that loomed in the darkness had been slain. She was now in one of the happiest moods she had been in, in some time. What they say about confession being good for the soul must have some validity.

Hank however, was feeling just the opposite. For months the tension and flirtatious manners had been building between them. They were undeniable. He knew that they were wrong. Francois was a married woman. Yet, he had been unable to control his feelings for her. It was clear to him, as well, that she was experiencing feelings for him of a similar nature. Something that powerful had to be right. It was wrong to stop it. Any yet, in a very candid and unannounced way, Francois had done just that. He, himself had tried to avert the growing feelings between them. He had made numerous trips back to his brother’s ranch in Colorado always with the pretense of being needed there. His being gone, if even for a few weeks, had helped to cool their feelings for one another, or so he had thought. But in reality, a couple of weeks apart from seeing Francois or talking to her had left him with an even deeper and stronger need to see her. But she had laid the ground rules clearly. She had made her intentions known. It was now up to him to honor her request no matter how hard that request might be.

“I think I smell bacon cooking”, Hank said, as he led her through the front doors of the ‘Rick’s. “I think I’m in the mood for some pancakes, too. Might be just what the doctor ordered”, he added.

They both were quiet while awaiting their breakfast orders to arrive. Hank pretended to study the front page of the Sun newspaper while Francois studied him.

“What you need, Hank, is a steady girlfriend,” Francois remarked as she tore into the stack of pancakes that had just arrived. “Not, a wife mined you. You’re not quite ready for a wife, just yet,” she added.

“Well, how do you know that just maybe I’ve got a few girlfriends stashed away here and there?” Hank asked.

“Hank, there’s a big difference between sleeping with a girl and having her as a girlfriend,” Francois observed. “You know, sex does not qualify as a relationship,” she added. And, a relationship is built over time, not just one night, sweetie”.

Francois had finished off her stack of pancakes, and had begun to eat the ones left on Hank’s plate. He didn’t seem to mind though and busied himself with the bacon and toast that Francois hadn’t yet expressed an interest in.

“Have you ever had a relationship with a woman, Hank?’ Francois asked with real interest. It was odd, but she had never thought to ask Hank that question before. Perhaps she had been afraid to pry, or afraid to know the answer.

Suddenly, Francois felt a real sadness come over her. What if Hank had never had any real relationship with a woman? Having grown up on a ranch, maybe he had never had the time or the means to. She knew that he had never been married, but had he ever been in love?

“Have you ever been in love, Hank?” Francois asked him with real concern.

Hank looked at Francois. Her eyes had the softest quality to them. He could stare at them forever. He could easily become lost in those soft green pools. “I’ve cared for a great many women in my life,” Hank responded.

“Yes, but did you actually love any of them. You know, the head over heels kind of love that comes to each of us hopefully, once in our lives. Have you had that?” Francoise asked.

Hank rubbed his hands. His hands were weathered and chapped from exposure from all of the years spent outdoors laboring in the various climatic conditions of the mountain valleys in Colorado. He looked at his hands now and away from Francois’s eyes.

“I have had one or two, what you might call serious relationships in my life, I suppose”, Hank said with a sigh. “None of them seemed to take hold, though,” he added. As for the love part, I suppose that that has just not been in the cards for me, as of yet.”

“That’s so sad!” Francois said wanting to just gather him up in her arms at that very moment and hold him close-so close that he would be able to feel her heartbeat and she his.

“I suspect that I’m now getting to that age where the likelihood of it happening is becoming pretty slim,” he acknowledged. “I suppose that it’s one thing to find love and another to hold onto it, though,” he added.

“Oh, Hank! It just breaks my heart to hear you say that,” Francois said. “Haven’t you ever heard it said that it is never too late? And, you’re not even that old. You just can’t give up on love.”

“Maybe,” Hank mused. “We’ll see what lies ahead, I suppose.”

“You know what I’m going to do?” Francois said, brightening.

“No, I don’t know what,” Hank said flatly. “What?” he asked.

“I’m going to find someone for you,” Francois offered. “Someone worthy of you and, you of them. Someone whom you can love to the depths of your soul and they to yours.”

“That’s a pretty tall order wouldn’t you say there, sweet pea?” Hank asked as he watched her take the last piece of bacon from his plate. “Are you sure she’s out there?”

“I’m sure of it,” Francois said. “I’m going to find her for you. Hell, I probably know ten women right now that could be strong candidates, under the right circumstances.”

“Now, hold on a minute there, Francois,” Hank said as a wave of anxiety began creeping over him. “Under the right circumstances, that’s a little frightening, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” Francois conceded. “The women I know would just be like a buffet placed before a connoisseur such as you. Now that I think about it, all the women that I know are a bit too refined for your tastes and those that aren’t, lie at the other end of the spectrum, utter gutter trash, I suppose.”

“Well, there you have it then,” Hank announced. “There’s little point in you looking further. No one seems to be out there that could possibly fill the bill. Let’s adjourn this complex conversation and take this outside on the veranda so I can smoke, okay?”

Francois was willing to go out on the veranda, but not willing to concede the topic of conversation. Outside, the day was coming into full swing. The daily activities were underway. In the pool, people were performing various water aerobic maneuvers while the instructor shouted encouragement from the shore and she demonstrated the correct technique for each sequence.

Francois wasn’t interested in the activities at the pool. Her mark was set and she was not to be dispelled. “No, it only means that women on the extremes are like prey to you. You somehow attract them in droves and you eat them up like candy. What you need is a woman somewhere in the middle, a woman with a certain amount class and substance, who is able to move fluidly through the weeds, yet elegantly upon the green grass.”

“Sounds to me like you’re describing either a peacock or a snake, sweet pea,” Hank observed. “Maybe I should do this shopping for someone at the local zoo,” he added with a smile.

At just that moment, a woman’s voice ascended into their conversation. “Well, I might have known it. I suppose you’ve both eaten all the pancakes in Rick’s leaving the rest of us high and dry,” said the voice.

“Hey, Lola,” Hank said with a genuine smile. “What are you doing up and about this early in the morning?” he asked. “I didn’t think that you started the day off until sometime in the afternoon or early evening, at best,” he added with a wide grin.

“Yeah, I thought you were more of a night owl,” Francois said as she took a cigarette from Hank’s shirt pocket.

“Oh, I’m a night owl, I guess-I haven’t been to bed yet,” Lola said taking a seat in one of the patio chairs about. She was clad in a one-piece swimming suit and had a large beach towel draped around her. She was still wet from the pool.

“Once or twice a week though, I like to expend a little energy in that water aerobics class,” Lola said. You know, splash around with the other fat fish of the park,” she added. “Then, after a few minutes of wearing myself out with that crap, I hurry right along to Rick’s in an attempt to reapply calories in the form of pancakes that I may have accidentally lost in the pool. How about donating to me one of your cigs, Hank?”

“I thought you quit,” Hank said reaching for his shirt pocket.

“Well, what can I say, Hank-it’s a process,” she said taking the cigarette Hank offered. “Not much good without a lighter, though,” she added with a quick smile.

“Ah! That’s much better now,” Lola said as she settled back in her chair. “So, what are you two up to this morning? I see that you’re minus one husband named Hutch,” she said tossing a look to Francois. “I guess that by now you’ve done him in and buried his body in a shallow grave somewhere in the desert, and then, in an attempt to appear innocent, raced back to the scene of the crime to push a few pounds of pancakes down your guilty gullets hoping that no one suspects your sinister deeds,” Lola added slapping herself on the knee and laughing out loud.

Somehow between the laughing and the smoking though, Lola caused herself to start coughing and wheezing-the effects of years of smoking were evident with every wheeze. Both Francois and Hank looked at her and then each other with concern. They both could hear the rattle emitting from deep inside her chest.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Francois remarked. “Have you caught a cold or something?”

“No, I’m fine, really,” Lola said waiving her concerns off with a hand. “I think its Hank’s brand of cigarettes,” she added. “What form of bark are you smoking these days, Hank?” she asked

Hank responded with a stern look.

“So, speaking of nasty habits, Francois-if you two haven’t waylaid him, where is that chubby little husband of yours anyway?” Lola asked.

“Sleeping like a baby last I looked,” Francois responded. “I’m on a mission to find Hank a girlfriend. How about it, Lola-any interest on your part?” she queried with a smile.

Lola tossed a keen eye on Hank which made him a bit uncomfortable. He didn’t like being inspected like a slice of beef wrapped in cellophane at the local butcher’s shop.

“No, I guess I’ll pass, even though he’s a fairly handsome cuss, in a rugged sort of way. He’s just a might too skinny for my liking,” Lola said. “Hell, if we were to get all caught up in the throws of passion, I’d probably roll over and crush him like a bug.”

Hank winched a little at that thought and that gave Francois a good laugh. She had to admit to herself that the thought of Lola and Hank being together was hard to imagine. Hank, while not little, possessed a slight and slender build. To Francois, he had always reminded her a little of the actor, Henry Fonda, lean and lanky. Lola on the other hand was anything but slender. She could easily make two of Hank. It never bothered her, though. It was just the way things were, the cards that she’d been dealt. No sense in stewing over the body that God had given her was her thinking. If it’s the one that he wanted her to have, then so be it.

“I suspect that the right man for me is going to have to have a little more beef on his bones,” Lola said with a laugh. “Besides, Hank here’s a little too reckless for my tastes,” she added.

“What do you mean, reckless?” Francois asked. She looked at Hank trying to picture him behaving in a reckless sort of way.

“Men who haven’t been able to find out who they are supposed to be in this life, wind up being reckless is what I mean,” Lola mused while she tried to rub out the stiffness she felt in her leg. “Well, maybe reckless isn’t quite the right word that I want.”

“I don’t see myself as reckless,” Hank protested. “Hell, I’ve never even been in a car wreck. I guess if I was a reckless fellow, I would have been in a car accident by now,” he added looking at both of them for reassurance that he wasn’t reckless.

Lola thought a moment. In fact, they all thought for a moment. Finally, Lola said, “Flitter! That’s the word. Hank’s a flitter, Francois. Hank flits,” she said with a smile of satisfaction that she had, in her mind, correctly surmised Hank’s condition.

Both Hank and Francois looked at Lola with a degree of suspicion, neither one sure about Lola’s revelation. Lola was a little unsettled by Lola’s remark. She wasn’t sure of the meaning of the word, flit or flitter, but she was sure that it wasn’t exactly a complement either.

“Lola! What the hell’s a flit or flitter?” she asked a little perturbed. “I’m not sure that’s even a real word,” she said defensively.

“You’re from east Texas and you’ve never heard the word before,” Lola said somewhat surprised. “Didn’t anybody ever tell you about honey bees flitting from one flower to another, jumping from one to the other, never settling in, never settling down? That’s what someone who flits does.”

Hank looked a little pitiful. He wasn’t sure he liked being described as a bee, even if it was only a honey bee. “Well, I doubt that I’m quite the flitter that you make me out, Lola. I guess I just haven’t found the right gal just yet. But, when I do, I figure I’ll be marrying and settling down for good like most folks. It just hasn’t happened yet.”

“So, what kind of girl are you looking for, Hank?” Lola asked nonchalantly.

“I’m not particularly looking,” Hank reminded her. “Francois is the one who’s got it in her head that I need a girlfriend.”

“Well, you do need a girlfriend, Hank!” Francois said a little perturbed at having to defend her motives. “Just look at you. You’re a mess. Any girl would spot it in an instant,” she added.

“What’s wrong with the way that I look?” Hank asked defensively.

“You just have that messy, unkept look about you,” Francois said flatly. “Most men do, actually, but single men especially. I suspect that it’s a curse or something. Anyway, any girl worth her salt would see it right away. That’s why it’s not important that a man wear a wedding ring. Women can just tell whether a potential suitor is married or not, or even if he already has a woman in his life. I pegged you for an unkept, unmarried man the minute that I laid eyes on you.”

Hank was watching some kids playing in the sand that surrounded the family pool area. There were two young boys about seven or eight years of age showing off to a girl who was sitting on the edge of the pool with her mother. The girl pretended not to be aware of the boys but, they were unaffected. They continued to try to get her attention with loud talk and over zealous laughter.

“So you think I look messy?” Hank asked with some concern.

“Oh Hell, Hank! You have nose hairs protruding from your nose the size of tree limbs, for Christ’s sake!” Francois said. “And, you practically have a shrub garden growing in your ears that could use some pruning, as well,” she added.

Hank was taken back at Francois’s directness, plus, it had never occurred to him that he might have a forest of hair protruding from his ears. Out of a newly born concern, he timidly felt around his ears for signs of growth but thankfully, was unable to find anything unusual. Then, with a more modest approach, he gave a quick exterior inspection around the outside of his nose, again not finding anything out of the ordinary.

“You’re full of crap, Francois, he said proudly, glad that his search had come up empty.

Lola stood up and stretched. “I would just love to hear how this conversation turns out, but it’s beddy by time for me,” she said. “I’m not even in the mood for pancakes now. I need my beauty sleep more than I need those pancakes,” she added turning to go. I’ll keep a sharp eye out for a gal for Hank, though. Ta! Ta!

And with a backward wave of her hand she headed for her trailer and sleep.

“I love Lola to death,” Francois said as they both watched her large figure go down the path to the trailers. Lola stopped in the small shade of a palm tree and was chatting with a woman that Francois didn’t recognize. “But, I shutter to think of what girl she would hook you up with.”

“Yeah, me too,” Hank agreed. “I don’t believe I’m too interested in either one of you finding me a gal. At any rate, I need to get some shut eye myself. That long drive from Colorado’s starting to set in. When I get up, I’ll be sure to give my nose and ears a good trimming,” he said with a tired grin. “Anyway, tell Hutch hello for me,” he added as he too turned to start down the steps.

“Oh, Hank,” Francois pleaded grabbing hold of his hand. “It’s not about that. Can’t you see? You’re just a man that’s run amuck. You’re wandering through your life with no direction whatsoever, and no woman to help you find your way.”

Francois started to cry. “You’re so sweet, but, I’m just not the girl for you, Hank. Hutch has been good to me for the most part these two years and I don’t know where I would be if he hadn’t come along like he did,” she said wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I guess that to some extent I’m old fashioned that way. I need to be loyal to him.”

Hank shrugged his shoulders and frowned at her. “I suspect you’re right,” he said. “I’ll just collect myself to Francois’s Graveyard of Cast-off Lovers. I hear that there are quite a few buried there.”

“Please don’t get sarcastic on me. I get enough of that from Hutch,” Francois said. “Hey! What are you doing tomorrow night? Come to dinner. Hutch should be here and I’ll set pick up some steaks and we’ll have a barbeque. I’ll make a salad and even fix baked potatoes. What do you think?” Francois asked hopefully.

“I’ve never been one to turn down a dinner invitation, Francois. You know that,” Hank said. “I am going to stop by the tree nursery and have their fellows in the trimming department give me the once over,” he added with a coy smile.

“Yes, you may want to call ahead and tell them to sharpen their chainsaws first,” Francois said playing along. “Just have your self at our place by eight,” she said turning to go. “It ought to be cool enough to start the barbeque by then. You bring the refreshments, sweetie. I’m off. Thanks for breakfast.”

He watched Francois go down the steps and out the gate at the far end of the pool area. She waved to a several of the ladies scattered in lounge chairs but didn’t stop to talk. He stopped at the convenience store next door to the restaurant and bought a bag of ice. The air conditioning was running full bore trying to keep up with the Vegas sun. As he left the clubhouse, he hurried his pace toward his rig. The sun would do it’s best to melt the bag of ice before he could get to his rig. He decided that he might just have to have a quick rum and coke before hitting the mattress.

The morning was in full swing in Las Vegas and with it the sun was making its mark upon the city. You could see the heat waves coming up off of the pavement. No doubt, the tourists were getting lathered up poolside throughout the valley. The bartenders and dealers were already serving their wares, as the people who gathered in this city of excess set about the never ending task of separating the visitor from his or her money. The boiling effect of the day’s heating made the skyline of the Vegas Strip in the distance look like a mirage forming up from the desert sand as Hank entered his trailer.
© Copyright 2009 Gordon Montgomery (inthemoment at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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