Road to Nowhere

Ted sat down next to Pam. After the laughter had run its course they demonstrated their respective Oreo-eating techniques. With the exception of an occasional milk-and-cookie refill run to the kitchen, they spent the rest of the evening in small talk like old friends.

The sun had set by the time Ted turned to Pam with a more serious expression "Would it be OK if I showed you something I have out back?"

"What is it?"

"I'd rather just show you."

"Why don't you just tell me what it is."

"I'd rather it be, um, a bit of a surprise." Ted's expression was earnest.

Pam had really gotten to like Ted but this "secret" bothered her. He's probably still the nice guy I hope he is, but what if he isn't? She pictured newspaper headlines: "Woman Disappears In Fucking Nowhere."

"OK, but you have to let me clean up the mess" said Pam, indicating the remnants of cookies and milk."

"OK, great!" said Ted, obviously cheering. "I'll run upstairs and get my keys. Be right back."

Pam hurriedly carried the dishes into the kitchen. As soon as she heard Ted's footsteps on the stairs, she canvassed the kitchen, quickly finding what she was looking for and sliding it under her waistband and covered with her shirt. Just a bit of insurance.

Returning with the keys Ted opened the kitchen's back door. "OK, follow me." Pam followed him into the black of night.

It really wasn't as dark as it had seemed. As Pam's eyes adjusted she realized it wasn't as dark as it had seemed. The near full-moon's light gave a good view of the back yard and the path leading to toward the smaller building which was obviously their destination. Pam followed, brushing her side with her arm to reassure herself that her acquisition was still in place.

Ted unlocked the garage door. "In here he said, gesturing into the garage. It's in here."

His tone was reassuring, but then again, other than that nasty habit of rape and murder, Ted Bundy was an alright guy too. Entering the pitch-black garage, Pam reached behind and under her shirt, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of the large kitchen knife. Just in case. Pam felt horrible about doubting, but she was standing in a pitch-black garage with a man she just met. Better safe than sorry. She wondered if sorry was deciding to stay here.

"The switch is over here. Follow my voice."

Pam cautiously moved in the direction of Ted's voice, barely able to discern his silhouette in the light leaking under the door. The small bit of what else she could see was nothing more than indistinguishable shapes.

Pam took a few steps then about jumped out of her skin by bumping head-on into Ted. He grabbed her shoulders and firmly turned her away from him, facing into the dark garage. She jumped again at the sound of a loud clank followed by blinding with light.

"So what do you think?" asked Ted.

Pam realized the sound must have been the lighting relays closing, and the blinding light, was, well, lights. Then she gasped.

As her eyes adjusted, from blinding white emerged a deep, luxuriant blue, the bottomless color of ocean depths. A blue so dark it flirted black in the shadows. She knew what she was looking at, exactly what she was looking at. A chromed island floating in the ocean of blue read SS 396. The most perfect '68 Camero she'd ever seen.

A mutual love of cars had been a special bond between Pam and her father, a love that eventually fueled her career in automotive advertising. Her earliest memories included dad taking her to a car show and inevitably cajoling a reluctant owner to allow him to take a picture of Pam in the driver's seat of their beloved vehicle. Dad's shop walls were covered with Pam sitting, barely able to reach the steering wheel, in every imaginable antique, vintage, and custom vehicle.

As she grew older she would pour over his automotive magazines to keep up on what was new, and to be ready for dad's favorite game: Name That Car. They picked favorites brands and models just to have something to disagree and tease about: Pam loved the British roadsters, Dad preferred German coupes. In truth they had nothing to disagree about, as they both had the same love: classic American muscle cars. No car ever build was more representative than the Camero now gleaming in Ted's garage.

"That's yours?" she asked turning to Ted.

"So you like? I'm glad. Bought her when she was nothing more than a trailer-park ornament. Took her apart every nut, screw, and clip, Then built her back up. Not all stock, but I did my best to keep her true to her heritage. She's got a few surprises though."

"Can I?" Pam asked motioning toward the driver seat door.

Ted nodded. Pam walked around the car and bent over as if admiring the underside -- which as a matter of fact she was -- and while out of Ted's view slipped her kitchen friend under a nearby shelf. There was no way she was going to risk that interior. Like everything else the interior was immaculate, the bucket seats and door upholstery a rich black leather. A Hurst 4-speed rose from the center console. "Oh my God, I've loved these for years!" said Pam as she slid into the drivers seat and held the wheel. She laughed to herself when she realized she was posing out of habit, unconsciously waiting for the flash of her father's camera. Holding the wheel, she closed her eyes and tried to picture what it must be like to drive this beauty.

"Go for a ride?"

"Hell yeah!"

"You wanna drive?" Ted asked.

"Of course I do! But I don't dare." Pam got out and got back in the passenger side while Ted opened the garage door.

"Buckle up" said Ted, getting in, but Pam was already more than ready. The car started and gently vibrated with a low purr. Not quite the glass-pack-loud, wide-open sound she had been expecting. More like the family car with a bit of attitude.

The headlights flashed on, and off they went. Ted turned onto the main road, the headlights cutting into the darkness ahead. Everything in the car was like new, or better. It felt like being in some sort of automotive time machine.

"You called it 'her'. So does she have a name?"

"As a matter of fact she does." He paused while he tuned the radio to a classic rock station. "Her name is J.Lo".

"Why J.Lo?"

"Because what folks spend the most time looking at is her rear end." With that Ted floored the accelerator. The gentle purr turned to a lion's roar and the Camero rocketed forward, pushing Pam firmly back in her seat. She'd never felt that kind of power. It was incredible. No, it was more than that. It was sensual and exotic, like they had somehow harnessed a dragon.

Ted began to slow and Pam figured the show was over just as the car went into a four-wheel drift onto a side street she hadn't seen coming.

"You OK?" Ted yelled over the roar beneath them.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Pam yelled, her grin now every bit as wide as Ted's. "Hell yeah!"

The tree-lined road twisted and turned, climbed hills, and ducked into valleys. Ted knew his machine, as relaxed at the wheel as eating Oreos. As he put the car and the road underneath through their respective paces, Pam relished the illusion of the Camero -- J.Lo -- as a living, breathing beast carrying them through the night, its roar crying out warning to lesser creatures.

A yellow sign declared "One Lane Bridge Ahead." Ted downshifted, dropping off speed. J.Lo's jungle voice tamed to a purr as Ted turned down a side road before reaching the bridge. "Public Access" and "Dead End" signs briefly shone in the headlights then returned to the darkness as they passed.

J.Lo came to a stop under an overhang of branches. A picnic table on a grassy clearing shone in her headlights.

"Up for a walk?" asked Ted.

Earlier apprehensions gone, Pam nodded and the Camero's purr fell silent. Pam fumbled, just slightly, with the door latch. A bit of jitters, but she wasn't feeling at all scared. It took a moment to connect. It had been a long time since she had felt this particular edginess: the giddy nerves of a first date.

The moon's glow filtered to the ground illuminating moving silhouettes traced by the tree's branches swaying in a light breeze. Not having Pam's difficulty with the door, Ted was around to her side and took her hand as she stepped out of the car.

"It's a little darker than I expected" said Ted moving to stand under a lit opening between the trees. Pam thought Ted handsome in the light of day, but standing in the flickering shaft of moonlight his face had nobility and strength daylight had been unable to reveal.

"My memories of this place go back as far as I can remember." said Ted. "When I was real little we used to come here for picnics. Mom would pack the food and dad always had a blanket in the trunk. I guess I must have inherited that habit." Ted unlocked the trunk and pulled out a well-worn tartan blanket. "Sorry, no picnic basket. I figured if we stop and sit we won't have to worry about getting our pants dirty. I have to confess though. I'm really more worried about J.Lo's seats than ours." The smile was back. Pam laughed, thinking to herself she'd insist on the same if the Camero were hers.

Ted tossed the tartan over one shoulder and lead Pam across the small park. Eyes finally adjusted to the moonlit night, Pam could see that the park hugged the shore of a small river. Probably the locals called it a creek, or crick, she thought. With each step J.Lo blended into darkness behind while the way ahead became clear. The overhead canopy of branches stopped at the water's edge, allowing a river of moonlight to shine on her watery sister below.

Ted spread the old blanket on the grassy slope leading to the water's edge.

"When I got older," Ted continued, as they sat facing the river, "my dad would take me here fishing. Then when I got older still, I'd come here when I needed time to myself. Sometimes I think I did as much growing up along side this little crick as anywhere else."

Ted drifted into thought. Sitting quietly beside him, Pam was thinking about the day, stretching to her life, and what was it all about. There is always something about nature that brings a perspective four walls and electric light can hide.

Pam thought about the important overseas meeting which, because of time zones, she was missing right about now. "I wouldn't say I've been missing it" Pam thought, remembering a line from "Office Space". Fact was, she wasn't missing it at all. The idea that she might lose her job was surprisingly calming. Of course she would probably get off with a scolding, and this would be the excuse the boss used for lousy raises the next few years. Pam tilted her head back to the stars and the bigger world surrounding her. There had to be something better than the life she was living.

Pam broke the silence. "I need to do this more often." A light breeze from across the crick broke the stillness of the night air. Pam brushed back a wisp of hair from her face.

"What, shoot through the night in a hot Chevy? Or sit in the dark 'long side a crick with a pickup truck driver?"

Pam laughed "Well, yes, that too. But I meant, like they say, I need to stop and smell the roses."

"I know what you mean. That's why I came back."

The breeze was teasing the back of Pam's hair when she felt a sharp pain. Instinctively she slapped her neck at the offending site. Examining the bloody spot in her hand she announced "Mosquitoes!" Then another on her arm. In a matter of seconds the air was filled with mosquitoes and Pam and Ted were slapping and shooing a loosing battle.

"Breeze must have brought a fresh hatch." said Ted. "Come on, let's get back in the car!"

Ted grabbed the tartan with one hand and took Pam's hand with the other to lead her on a dash back to the car. Pam was grateful for Ted's hand as he knew exactly where to go in the darkness. She felt the strength and warmth of Ted's hand. She wanted to hold on, but as they approached the car Ted let go to open the trunk and put the tartan away.

Pam opened the car door. "Not so fast" said Ted "this time you are going to drive." He tossed her the keys and quickly squeezed past into the passenger seat.

The Camero started with the now-familiar sleepy purr and continued its well-tamed behavior as Pam drove out to the main road. Sort of strange; it was pretty much the rule that a car that really screamed had horrible street manners -- loud, rough idle, jumpy starts -- but J.Lo didn't act like that at all.

After pulling onto the main road Ted said "Nothing on this road for 10 miles. Give it a go!"

Pam floored it. Again the Camero roared to life -- an awakened dragon. Hands on the wheel Pam felt part of the machine. The shifter was tight and firm, the steering pushed back just enough road to guide the beast. J.Lo drove as nice as she looked. Pam retraced their route through the twisty curves, but not knowing the car's limits she didn't push J.Lo quite as hard. Even so the thrill was intense, like riding the high during sex. Pam didn't miss the look of approval on Ted's face as she piloted a best line through a tight series of curves.

The curves behind them, Pam brought J.Lo back to purring speed. As the adrenaline rush waned she had a desire for a cigarette even though she had quit quite some ago. "God" she thought, "this car really is sexual." Reflecting on the car's 'gender' she laughed out loud thinking "Guess that make me a lesbian."

"What's so funny" asked Ted.

"Oh, nothing." said Pam, thinking perhaps that particular thought might better remain unsaid. "Well, there is one thing. How is it that J.Lo has this Jekyll and Hyde personality. I mean, just tooling around she drives smooth as my mom's Buick, but when you stand on it, she's an atom bomb?"

Ted's answer was the proverbial uncorking of a genie's bottle. He told of how his father was an intelligent but uneducated man who had ideas far larger than himself. He had been a bit of an inventor, but his lack of education put limits on what he was able to achieve. Every invention and idea, good or bad, every experiment, every result, Ted Sr. would carefully chronicle in a spiral notebook. "This book is a gold mine. All I need is a little bit of money to get one started." he would say. But the money was never to be, the gold mine was never to be prospected. What little extra money Dad had made was put aside to send his son to college.

After his father's passing, Ted had sat down with the old spiral notebook. Some of the ideas were, well, rather absurd. "Perpetual Engine" headed one page followed by an intricate diagram. Unlike his father, Ted had the education to quickly find the overlooked detail that derailed this invention of the century.

But not all were bad. Some were rather clever. Some were ahead of their time, and now being realized by evolutions and revolutions in technology. Then there was one that stood out. One that stopped Ted in his tracks, one that just might work.

It took Ted nearly a year to implement his father's idea. Like so many, it was an idea that only time and the evolution of computers had made possible. It wasn't as easy as Dad had thought, but he had been right that it would be expensive. In the end, the proof of that pudding was J.Lo.

Ted started to tell Pam about how it had to do with coordination of a continuously variable exhaust back-pressure with a customized fuel-injection system. How a unique cam design made it possible to... Polite as Pam was being, he could tell he was beginning to lose her.

"I guess the end result speaks for its, I mean, her, self." he concluded.

"I think your Dad was right, there was as gold mine in that book, just waiting for his son the prospector to stake a claim. So when are you letting the rest of the world in on your secret?"

"Turns out Dad was right more than once. I've tried, but no one will listen. I've written letters, made phone calls, and tried to set up demonstrations. Nobody wants to hear about some country boy's Camero. And like Dad said, "It takes money to make money, and money I ain't got."

The seed of an idea flickered in Pam's mind only to be interrupted as the house came into view. Pam parked J.Lo in the garage. While Ted went about closing the garage door, she retrieved her kitchen friend from its hiding place, again secreting it in her waistband for a return trip to the kitchen.

However getting an opportunity to replace the knife proved impossible. Returning to the house Ted noted the late hour and suggested it was probably best to call it a night since he had a shop to run in the morning, especially if a particular MINI owner wanted her car fixed. Pam surprised herself by thinking it wouldn't be so bad if the MINI stayed broken an extra day or two.

Pam followed Ted up the stairs to their respective rooms. Placing the kitchen knife on the dresser, Pam got out of her shorts and T-shirt, then removed her bra and panties. Normally used to sleeping naked, Pam thought better of the idea and re-donned shorts and shirt.

Sliding beneath the crisp covers of the old bed Pam laid her head back on the pillow. What a day it had been, nini drama after mini drama. Pam giggled to herself over her accidental pun. But a unique day it had been.

As the sheets warmed to her skin Pam's mind wandered, thinking about all the nights Ted had slept in this same bed. About the boy becoming a man between these walls. She found herself wondering what it would be like if he were here laying along side her, in this his own bed, huddling close on a cold night sharing each others warmth. Pam's hand slipped under the waistband of her shorts and absently caressed herself with the fantasy.

Mid-fantasy she sat up as her mind insisted on changing topic: "Shit. The damn knife. I can't just leave it here in the bedroom. Who knows who will stay here next? Might be some young kid. Shit."

Pam snuck the bedroom door open just a crack, thankful for no telltale sounds. The hallway was dark, and the door to Ted's room closed.

"Good, I'll just run this damn thing back to the kitchen and all will be well" she thought. Pam tiptoed down the hall and carefully took the stairs, pausing and listening after any little squeak to make sure all was still well. "Could have been a pretty good cat burglar" she thought. Making it to the living room she relaxed, walking normally across the carpeted floor. Looks like mission accomplished.

"Planning to kill yourself some Oreos?" came a voice from the dark.

Pam let out an inadvertent yelp, freezing in fright until the words sunk in.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Or maybe I did. I don't know. I couldn't sleep so I came down here to think."

Embarrassed, Pam started sputter "Oh, the knife, um, I..."

"Don't worry." said Ted. "I saw it in the garage. Felt bad about scaring you, though it seems I'm starting to make a habit of it."

"Why don't you sit down here on the sofa and we can "not sleep" together." The double entendre did not escape her.

"I still have kitchen duty to attend to, but I'll be happy to take you up on your offer." said Pam. She returned the knife to the kitchen and returned. "What's keeping you up?"

"To be honest, you." said Ted. Pam flushed and he continued "You got me thinking about Dad's invention. It bothers me that I can't see a way to uncork his gold mine and realize his dreams."

The idea that had been waiting in the back of Pam's mind blossomed and this time it was Pam who did all the talking. She just happened to know a possibly soon-to-be unemployed advertising expert who just happened to have connections at Road and Track, Car and Driver, and a few others. Connections who owed more than a few favors for the advertising she'd placed.

Throughout the night they strategized, planned, and plotted. A pot of coffee and the end of the Oreos later, it seemed easy. Reviews in major magazines. Seed money. Contracted production. A web presence. It all fell into place.