"I wuntah gone in deer." 

    "Canadian, eh?" 

    "How'd yah guess?" 

    "Whole damn town's tawkin' 'bout (i)those French Canadians(i)." 

    The man drained an ice-beer.  "Dey are?"  He crushed the can under a fringed moccasin boot.  "Hear daht Maggie?" 

    A woman with the same hair came out of a teepee.  "What now?" She hung a little broom on a leather string on a missing side mirror.  "We's all FAMEUSS now." 

    "Notting new."  She unrolled a fish out of a newspaper.  Two fingers gently put it in a fry pan.  Made the sign of the cross over it.  "I am, he's not."  

    "Blessed enough, t'ank you." 

    "What's going on in there?" 

    What had been decorated with red, white, and blues (i)happy, happy(i) "dam vacation" mood had changed around Fontana. 

    "Drinking.  Don't say I didn't warn you," the woman said. 

    "Not me.  But I can't save anybody else.  Learned that the hard way." 

    "A time or two, I bet." 

    "I don't gamble either." 

    The man poured oil in the pan and smelled the fish.  "I miss the ocean.  Want to go Maggie?" 

    "To the ocean?" She chuckled. 

    "Yah.  The ocean.  You can be a mermaid." 

    "After you drown me?" 

    I pulled open the door and left the sunshine outside.

     Came back out pretty quickly to smoke a cigarette with my coffee.  A little car dragging it's guts under it pulled up.  Guy gets out in a cloud of smoke.  "I know you," I say as I'm sucking in a drag.  "YOU?!?"  

     He started to walk back towards the car.  "Wait!"  He turned and sort of ran back.  He grabbed the sides of my arms and shook me.  "You (i)gotta help me(i)." I removed his hands from shaking my expensive coffee all over the ground by sticking my elbows out like doing the chicken dance.  "What's (i)wrong(i)?" He turned on heel and slumped against the pipe fencing.  He put his head in his hands.  And he said something.  He laughed and sucked in a breath and kind of cried but no tears.  "What did you say?" The door of the place was being held open for ladies and gentlemen in ironed jeans so it was loud.  Then in the quiet I asked again.  "What's wrong?  Did you do something?" 

     I got down close to where he'd slid into sitting.  He slowly, carefully bumped his head against the rail.  He burped a cloud of marajuana.  "Well, you did good to pull over!" I smiled.  "Are you drinking?"  I smiled bigger, "Noooo." 

     He pulled his legs up to his chest.  "I, I took a wrong turn," he muttered.  I looked at him for bruises or blood.  "I just can't remem...I have to get to Knoxville..." I plucked his keys from his hands.  He grabbed my shirt sleeves.  "If you write about me, call me the Little Black Guy."  I took his hands off my sleeves and placed them on his knees.  "I would never do that.  You know me." He started blubbering.  "But I don't want them to get in trouble." 

     "Did you hit anyone?" He shook his head (i)noooooo(i).  "Kill anyone otherwise?"

     "Nope."  He shook his head and for a second his eyeballs looked crossed.  Then he said, "I, I, this is (i)cray, cray(i), I have a trunk full of muppets." 

     "Did you say muppets?" 

     "Boy, you high as a kite." A tall, stocky man in chaps and bandanas and a leather jacket bulging over arm muscles as round as my thighs looked down at us and said.  The Little Black Guy sounded like a horse in a stall stung by a bee, all boots scrambling.  The tall guy picked him up by the back of his shirt while he unscrambled squirming in circles and tried to crawl away.  "You take my shit????" The tall man with the Little Black Guy in one hand roared the question.  Little guy yelped.  And was tossed off the porch.

     A gorgeous, also tall Indian woman stepped around the thrown guy.  "It's a start." A younger, and shorter girl with a Wild Turkey feather sticking up out of her hair bun helped the guy to his feet.  "I hate going places with these people," she said as she helped the guy brush the dirt off his jeans.  He held out gravel pitted palms.  And blushed.  "Give me the keys dear, I'll drive."  Another car honked at us to get out of the way.  

     (i)Get. Out of the way.(i)  The black woman inside the car rolled down her window a quarter of the way.  (i)Move(i).  "Oh, I know that lady."  The Little Black Guy thanked the Indian girl for all the attention and said more than once, "I'm aright. Thank you Miss." They moved towards the porch and I said, "Why don't you go inside and get a drink or something?" He spit combed his hair in his sideview mirror and smiled broad.  "Might as well get myself killed." And he went in. 

     "Can I come in?" I knocked on the lady's passenger window.  She was taking a small bottle of whiskey out of a paper sack.  I went round to her side when I realized there was a gigantic roll-on piece of luggage on the front seat beside her.  I knocked on the window she'd rolled back up.  "Can I come in?" Through the glass she said, "You'll have to sit in the back."  Took a swig, made a (i)this is horrible(i) face and said, "For a minute." 

     Inside the windows were already fogging.  "I can't tell you much." She swigged again then passed it to me.  "I can't be drinkin' these days.  I'm back on track with no clue why."  She held it there.  "What's it say it is?  It's wretched." I lit my lighter to see.  "Some kind of Grape, sour.  Sour Grape Mash or, hold it still." Her hand was trembling.  "It's gross." I took it and held my hand out for the cap.  Capped it and put it up on the suitcase. 

     "You seen Anderson?" 

     "I seen him leave." 

     "You from the South?" 

     "No.  I'm a damn Yankee." 

     "Then quit talking like them.  Gives me a headache." She turned the car key a little and punched set-keys.  (i)Don't Stop Believing(i) made her gruff a sick-of-it-sigh.  The news was in (i)repeat(i) again.  A man and a woman came out of the place.  The woman in a new black leather jacket and the man stopped walking and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of tight jeans' pocket.  She left White Snake on the radio but turned down low.  "You like Rock?" The woman realized the man had stopped walking and turned high heels peeking out of perfect-fitting jeans around to bump into his shoulder.  "I don't have to stay." 

     "Not really, but it's refreshing to the (i)getting stale(i) around here." The man also lit a cigarette for the woman.  She let him put it in her lips.  "That's why I lit one for you.  I hate lipstick on my butts." She took the cigarette out in a dainty puff, long nails, ash, and put it on the end of her nose, the filter end.  "Better?"  He just looked at her.  Then he asked, "What's the next song about?"

      She turned the radio up a little.  I felt my mind shake the scene.  "Is this going to be the Big One?" 

      "The war?" 

      "Yeah." 

      "They all are if you're the people fighting it." 

      "Not like we have a choice really.  We've all found that out."  She grabbed the bottle but didn't open it.  "They'll send some back.  From Germany.  That's where Anderson went." 

      "It's all happening so fast." 

      "It does." She turned the radio off.  The woman came close to the car.  "You don't own me." The man grinned.  "Kinda, sortah." He went after her and reached out for her arm.  She pushed his reach away.  Stood at a passenger door of a sports car.  He got in his side, started to back up.  She just stood there.  Then he pulled forward and popped her door open from inside. 

      "It'll be weird when you all leave." 

      She turned in the seat.  "You're staying?" 

      Fingers running down the foggy wet windows made me jump a little.  They tapped and ran down again.  A face got close to the glass.  (i)Roll the window down(i) the lips said in the clear streaks.  I opened the door and got out.  The Little Guy acted like I'd smashed his face.  "Whaddya do that for?!  I'm (i)telling(i).  And by the way, there's not a drop of alcohol in there." 

      "I know." 

      The black lady rolled down her window and held out the bottle of sour grape.  I pushed it back at her.  "He's on his way to Knoxville." 

      "It's good music though, so I might stay."  Hand beckoned for the bottle.  Mine got between and halted the pass.  "I can see she cares for you." He put out an arm like an usher.  "Going back in?"  I blew out a breath.  "Blew all my money on gas.  What else is new?" 

      "You can sit with us.  Somebody's bound to get fries." 

      "Us who? Exactly." 

      "Somebody's mother is coming to see if somebody is ready to go." 

      "Go where?  Somebody who?"  

      "You'll see."