FORMATIVE YEARS CHAPTER 3 Part 2

FORMATIVE YEARS CHAPTER 3 Part 2


Uncle Fred drove us into town for lunch at a nice restaurant that had not existed before I left town twelve years back. Lunch was delightful as Jane and I began to get reacquainted. Uncle Fred and Aunt Mary just beamed at the two of us when they weren't actually talking.

Afterward, Uncle Fred drove us to his house. He had a two car garage but only one car, so my car was stored in the unused bay. Uncle Fred kept it maintained and drove it just enough to keep it in good working order. He said it was like being a teenager again, but he was uncomfortable driving the car.

The car it was a 1963, Corvette split window coupe that I bought new while I was in college. The Corvette had the Z06 option, including the outsized, 36 gallon fuel tank. And it could fly like the wind.

Jane and I said goodbye to Uncle Fred and Aunt Mary. I thanked them profusely for all they did for me and for the lunch. Janie and I then climbed into my ebony black beauty, which is also what I called the car. We were greeted by her bright red leather interior.

I turned the key and listened to the well remembered, throaty growl of her exhaust. I backed out and we took off with a squeal of rubber and tire smoke. God, this car still had it! Jane looked at me and grinned. It was her first time to see and ride in the car.

Where to Jane seemed more fitting in our maturity than the nickname 'Janie' that I used when in high school?

"The nearest, nice motel," Jane, replied in a quiet, matter of fact voice. "I told you I wanted you to fix my problem, ASAP and I meant exactly that. If we survive, you can then take me dinning and dancing later in the evening."

"Isn't this a little quick?"

"Not if you consider I had wanted you to take me for four years before you left and then waited the twelve you have been gone since. Buddy, this is long, long overdue. Now find us a motel Quickly?

"Well, when you put it that way, I..."

"I do indeed put it that way, buster," Jane interrupted me.

Five minutes later, I rolled Black Beauty under the canopy of one of those romantically themed motels and got out to get us registered. That accomplished, I returned to Black Beauty and Jane to park. As we walked back to the door of our room, I said to Jane, "Our suite is the Arabian Nights Room or the Aladdin Room."

"What's that?" asked Jane.

"You'll see in just a moment."

When I opened the heavy outside door of the suite, we entered a small vestibule with a beautifully decorated canvas "tent awning" overhead that was attached to the inner door frame top and held up at the entrance end with shiny, ebony black poles on either side about two inches in diameter. The entryway at the other end of the vestibule was transparent, gossamer silk hangings that stood in place of tent opening flaps.

As we stepped into the suite proper, we could see the bedroom. It was decorated to look like the huge pyramid tent of a desert sheik, once again, billowing and transparent, colored silks at the entrance. The tent framed the entire room over the huge, round bed. The bed itself was covered with a combination of brilliant red satin with red and white silk trimmings.

"Oh My GOD. Oh my dear God!" exclaimed Jane.

"No," I replied, "the expression, I think, is 'Oh, Allah or 'Allah be praised'!"

By nutbuster