A Pinch of Cool

Eric suddenly appeared in front of the tavern, took one look at the situation and hurried to the back of his van. He opened one of the doors just as Voodoo leaped inside. Mya followed, tumbling in on top of him, then hitting the floor with a thud. There was something wet and yellow under Mya’s hands. She desperately tried not to notice, but it was almost too much for her to assimilate. She told herself to relax, as long as it wasn’t acid, she would be fine.

Eric closed the door, ran around to the front, jumped in and took off squealing as if they had just robbed that tavern and they were on the lam in some crazy movie.

Bonnie and Clyde and Voodoo.

When Mya looked up, Voodoo was staring right at her, obviously excited and waiting for a pat on the head for being such a good dog. She couldn’t even think of touching him.

Then, as if he could hear her thoughts, he shook his head and saliva slapped her right in the face.

She sat up, wiped the spittle from her cheek and calmly proceeded to remove one of Eric’s obviously expensive video cameras from its case. A very nice Panasonic DVCPRO Camcorder, to be precise.

This should get me home.

ERIC DROVE THE VAN while Mya scooted herself to the front. She knelt down behind him and said, in a matter-of-fact voice, “If you don’t take me home right this minute, I’ll throw your frickin’ camera right out the frickin’ window.”

Eric glanced at her through his mirror. Sure enough she was holding his best camera up for ransom. It reminded him of when she threatened him with his boom box.

The girl still had spunk, he had to give her that.

“I know you’re a little upset, but—”

“A little upset! I’m a whole lot upset and if I don’t get out of this stink-mobile pretty soon, there’s no telling what I might do.”

Eric remembered the time she had thrown his favorite Transformer down the toilet, then flushed and grinned at him as the water washed over their feet from the overflowing bowl. They were both grounded for an entire month, but Mya never seemed to care about the punishment once she was on a track of getting even.

Yeah, so maybe he had shaved Barbie’s head bald, and maybe it had been her favorite doll, but he couldn’t take all that incessant chattering all the time. The girl never shut up. Mya had been a vindictive child, but was she actually capable of throwing his camera out the window just because she wanted to go home? He gazed at her face once again through his mirror. She held the camera up next to the open passenger window.

Damn straight she was.

“All right. You win. I’ll take you home, just put my camera down. Gently.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth and you won’t make another stop at an even worse tavern?”

“You have my word.”

“And what’s that good for these days?”

“Whatever you want. Dinner? A movie? My head on a platter.”

“My mom’s house is all I’m interested in at the moment. I’ll take your head another time, thank you very much.”

“We should be there in fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Fine!”

Mya put his camera back in the case. Eric was somewhat relieved, but now he knew she still had that ornery streak. Part of him thought it was cute, but the other part of him thought he needed to watch his step. The girl could blow at any minute.

Eric watched as Mya stepped over the console and sank into the front seat. Her dress slid up her legs all the way to her red-and-white polka-dot panties and Eric flushed.

Don’t get excited. She hates you right now.

“And could you please call off your dog,” Mya said as Voodoo’s head came poking through the center of the two seats.

“Down boy,” Eric commanded. “Sit, you old dog, you.”

Mya threw Eric a wry glance. Eric responded with a shrug.

“You guys are all alike,” Mya said as she adjusted her dress around her fine legs.

“It’s what we live for.” He smiled at her, thinking that she’d see the humor, but she didn’t smile back.

When Eric had volunteered to pick up Mya Strano from LAX, he’d never expected some hot-looking chick in a skimpy dress and legs that never quit. He also didn’t expect her to be so East Coast. So with it. So New York. Oh, sure, he knew she’d been living in the Big Apple, working at some job her mother couldn’t really describe, but he never imagined she would be a complete knockout. This whole trip back to L.A. could turn out to be very interesting.

Voodoo blew air through his closed lips, making a vibrating sound, and sighed. Eric reached back and patted him on the head.

WHEN THEY FINALLY PULLED UP in her mom’s driveway, Mya couldn’t say goodbye fast enough. “Well, I guess that’s it, then,” she told him, sticking out her hand for a not-so-friendly handshake. He took it, but as soon as he did, she slipped her hand out and turned to walk up the driveway.

There will be no hand-holding this time, buddy.

“Let me help you with your bags,” he said as he pulled the handle up on the largest suitcase.

“No thanks,” she insisted, almost ripping it out of his hand. She wanted to do everything herself from now on. She was home now and didn’t need him for anything. Ever! “I’ve got it. It was so nice seeing you again. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime…in the next twenty years.”

She walked up the driveway hoping that he’d start his engine and drive away, but he didn’t. She turned around and waved. Maybe he didn’t get the hint. He always was a little slow at the uptake. “So, bye then. Have a safe trip up to Gold Country.”

She turned around again. This time she headed straight for the side door, opened it with her key and pulled her suitcase inside. She turned one more time as she stood in the doorway and waved. But he just stood there, waving back, all full of smiles.

She closed the door, locked it and gave it a few pats as if that was her final statement on the subject.

“And to think for a moment there, I thought he was cute. Must have been temporary insanity.”

Mya left everything by the kitchen door and walked into her mother’s ridiculously large and totally upscale English Tudor house.

“Anybody here?” she yelled. “I’m home.”

Home. There’s no place like home.

It didn’t matter that her mother wasn’t there, nor Grammy, nor Franko. What Mya really needed was a shower and a bed.

She made her way through the kitchen, decorated with walnut cabinetry and large Mexican tiles on the floor. Nothing had changed in the last ten years and Mya liked it that way. When she walked through the traditional dining room and up the wooden staircase to her old bedroom, she took comfort in knowing that no matter what went on in the outside world, her mother’s house was always the same.

Mya gently knocked on her grandmother’s bedroom door just to make sure she wasn’t there. Grammy’s hearing wasn’t as good as it used to be, so Mya thought she’d give her another holler. But Grammy didn’t answer.

Then she found her old room down at the end of the hall. It looked exactly like the day she’d left it, two years ago. She was absolutely thrilled to be in her own room.

Mya fell across her queen-size bed with its light green silk comforter. Absolute serenity overtook her as she spread out and enjoyed the luxury of not having that monster dog breathing in her ear. Her room smelled of lilacs and roses.

How marvelous.