Chapter 9 - Take It Eeeeeeeasy.

The taxi pulled up outside the Portland International Airport in front of the ‘Departures’ area. Brian helped Justin out, grabbed their bags and then pulled out his wallet. The $35 fare from the Dennison’s house took almost all of the cash Brian still had on hand. He silently fumed over the waste of money and time that this entire fiasco of a weekend now represented. But there was nothing he could do about it now. So Brian just paid the cab driver and then guided Justin into the terminal building.

They joined the queue at the Liberty Air counter and waited their turn in line silently. Justin was still not entirely back to his normal bubbly self. Brian had spent more than a half hour while they were still back at the Dennison’s trying to calm the boy. Not only was Justin upset about the encounter with Chester the Molester, but he was also feeling guilty that his little meltdown had ruined things for Brian. Brian had tried to explain that Justin wasn’t to blame for either Chester’s behavior or the fact that his own promiscuousness had finally caught up to him and bitten him in the ass, but the boy was convinced it was all his fault somehow. Which made for a very subdued and brooding blond boy. Brian didn’t want to stay where he wasn’t wanted any longer than necessary, though, so as soon as Justin seemed capable of walking on his own, Brian packed them up, called a taxi, and got them the hell out of there.

Their biggest problem was that Brian had no idea what they were going to do now. He’d been pretty much counting on winning the Accelerate account in order to get his finances flush enough for him to carry on. Without the money from that account, he didn’t really know what the fuck to do. While they were standing in the line waiting at the airport, Brian did a quick mental accounting of his situation and it wasn’t pretty. He had a little over twenty dollars in his wallet and maybe another hundred or so in his bank account. He had one credit card left that still hadn’t been maxed out but didn’t know how much credit he had left on there. It couldn’t be much since he’d been living off his credit cards for a while now. He was now stranded in the airport in Portland, Oregon - in the company of an escaped mental patient, no less - they had no place to sleep, very little money and he wasn’t even sure he could get them back to Pittsburgh.

Not exactly the way Brian wanted to spend a Saturday night.

Thankfully the line at the Liberty Air counter was fairly short. When it was their turn, Brian led Justin to the ticketing agent’s station and asked about the availability of flights to Pittsburgh. The first flight out wasn’t until the morning, of course, but at least it did have two seats available. Brian wouldn’t be happy about spending the night in the airport, but he didn’t have much choice. The real bitch of it all was that the price of the tickets, one-way and purchased at this late a date, was pretty astronomical: $475 each. Brian winced when he heard that price quoted but handed over his credit card and gave up a silent prayer to the banking gods that it would work.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but your card has been declined,” the ticketing agent dashed his hopes a minute later and handed back his card. “Is there perhaps another card we can try for you?”

“Shit . . . Um, no. Thank you . . .” Brian shook his head, sighed and let his shoulders slump in defeat - he knew it was hopeless and he didn’t have any other credit cards left.

Brian quickly bundled Justin off to the side of the ticketing area and then deposited both the boy and his bags into chairs in the waiting area. Justin was eyeing Brian with a worried frown on his beautiful face and wringing his hands worriedly but not saying anything. Brian squeezed his eyes shut tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose. His mind was reeling but he wasn't coming up with any good ideas about what he should do next. And he just couldn't stand seeing that nervous yet reliant look the boy kept darting in his direction.

“Fuck!” Brian wanted to scream but only allowed himself that one, brief curse and a silent moment of despair.

“Brian . . . ?” Justin's uncertain voice finally broke through his moment of self-pity and set him off, pacing around the waiting area chairs while he tried to come up with some plan.

Brian figured that altogether he probably had about $500, give or take - roughly the same amount as a single airline ticket. But, even if he could somehow scrape together that much, he knew he couldn't just abandon Justin here, alone in the airport. So what were his other alternatives? How the hell was he going to get the both of them all the way back across the fucking country? What he'd do with Justin once they DID get back to Pittsburgh was even more problematic, but he couldn't even think that far ahead. First he had to get them out of Portland at least.

“Excuse me,” a raspy voice interrupted Brian’s pacing. He turned to look for the owner and found a portly, rugged-looking, dark-haired man wearing a flannel checkered shirt, overalls and dirt encrusted boots, standing next to the chair where Justin was sitting. “I couldn’t help but overhear a bit of your dilemma, brother, and I just might have a solution for you. Let me introduce myself. The name’s Daniel.”

Brian looked the guy over and instantly pegged him as trouble. He had the slick, shifty eyed-look of a petty criminal. Normally, Brian wouldn’t come near a guy like this. But . . . well, at this point, what would it hurt. They didn’t have much left to lose. Brian reluctantly reached over and accepted the man’s proffered hand.

“Perhaps I could buy you two gentlemen a cup of coffee while we talk?” Daniel offered, gesturing down the hallway that led from the ticketing booths to the concourses where there was a convenient Starbucks just a few yards away.

“Sure. Why not. Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go hear what this nice man has to say,” Brian grabbed the bags in one hand and helped Justin to his feet with the other.

Ten minutes later they were all seated around the small molded plastic tables that were set up around the Starbucks kiosk. Justin was slurping noisily at a hot chocolate, Brian was blowing on his mocha latte and Daniel was sipping at his own black Americano. And the longer the genial small talk went on the more uncomfortable Brian was feeling.

“So, like I said, I overheard back there that you didn’t have enough for airfare to wherever you’re heading and I figured I might be able to help you guys out,” Daniel finally spoke up. “I’m heading out of town myself - relocating because of work - and my plane leaves in just a few hours. In the meantime, I’ve managed to sell off all the crap I’m not shipping except for one item: this old RV I picked up a while back. I actually drove it here to the airport tonight because I already sold my car. My buddy was supposed to pick it up tomorrow and follow up on selling it for me, but once I heard about your problems I thought maybe we could help each other out and then my buddy would be off the hook too. So, what do you say . . . You guys need transportation and I've got an RV I need to sell.”

Brian stared at the guy, trying hard to see into his brain. He knew this was too good to be true. It was going to be trouble. But, of course he was already in trouble anyway, right?

As far as he could see, his options at this point were limited. He couldn't afford the airfare to get both him and Justin home and he'd already decided he wouldn't abandon the kid here. He might be able to borrow the money for the airfare from his friends or Cynthia, but that option really rankled - Brian hated owing money to anyone. Renting a car to drive the almost three thousand miles probably wasn't going to be much cheaper than flying. Plus, if they drove, it would take at least five or six days, so they'd have to either pay for hotels along the way or sleep in the car, which didn't sound all that pleasant and could really add up. Two bus tickets would be substantially cheaper but that long a trip would no doubt take upwards of a week and Brian just could NOT imagine being stuck on a bus for THAT long. Same thing with a train.

The more he thought about it, the better the idea of an RV sounded - which just went to show how truly desperate Brian was since, under any other circumstances, he wouldn't be caught dead in one of those monstrosities. However, if they were going to drive anyway, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have a built in bed in the back of their vehicle. It would save on hotels at least. It would be less confining than a car - more leg room. And, based on the sleaze factor of the creep sipping coffee across the table from him, Brian figured he could buy the damn thing for pretty fucking cheap.

“What's the catch?” Brian asked bluntly.

“Well, you see, I don't have the title with me . . .” Daniel explained with a nonchalant look and a shrug. “It must have accidentally gotten packed and shipped with all my other stuff. But, it'll be weeks before I get everything unpacked, find it and can send it back here to my buddy so he can sell the beast. And I'm not going to lie to you, I could use the money now. But that works in your favor, since it means I'll have to sell it to you for practically nothing.”

“And how long would we have before the cops pull us over and arrest us for grand theft auto?” Brian asked, not at all fooled by the man's flimsy explanation.

“I swear to you. It's not like that at all. I really just don't know where the hell I put the title.”

“Mmhmm.” Brian rubbed his face. “So how much is this bargain deal gonna cost me? You heard the lady at the ticket counter say my credit card was declined. How exactly do you think I can afford to pay you for this RV?”

“I'm willing to let it go for a measly $500 - in cash.” Daniel offered, looking at Brian greedily.

“Fuck that. I could rent a car that wasn't stolen for $500,” Brian replied with a sneer. “Come on, Sunshine. This was a waste of time.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Daniel grabbed hold of Brian's jacket and towed him back down to his seat. “I'm willing to negotiate. Tell me what you've got on you.”

Brian did a quick mental calculation, figuring in gas prices and the cost of food for a few days . . . “Two hundred bucks.”

“Fuck! That's ridiculous. No fucking way, man. You're not getting out of Portland if that's all you got. Come on. Work with me here . . . How about four hundred?”

“Two-fifty,” Brian countered.

“Three.”

“Two-fifty,” Brian replied. “That's all I can afford. Take it or leave it. Oh, and you don't get the money till I see this mythical RV AND you prove to me it can drive us at least around the airport loop for fifteen minutes without breaking down.”

“You're killing me, man,” Daniel complained but then paused and stared at Brian for several long minutes. When Brian simply stared back and didn't look down or away, the guy must have known there wasn't any chance Brian would cave. “Shit! Fine. But I'm only doing this because I'm short on time and cash. You don't know what a great bargain you're getting.”

Daniel was muttering to himself about fucking stingy city slickers even as he was showing Brian and Justin out to the parking structure where their brand new home on wheels was waiting.

“Here she is boys . . . your ticket to freedom”

“Oh . . . Brian! Look at this! The glasses all stick to the side of the cupboards!” Justin was raving over the glasses. He’d just finished raving over the miniature refrigerator and the tiny oven and stove top. Before that he’d been raving over the miniature everything in the bathroom. Brian had been more interested in the built-in wine cooler and the mini-keg hooked up to the tap attached to the countertop. The first thing he’d done upon entering the RV was pour himself a glass of beer while Daniel showed him how to get the behemoth started up in order to drive.

Then Brian had made Daniel drive them around the airport loop road for about fifteen minutes just to make sure that the damn RV actually ran. When it had passed that test with flying colors, Brian and Daniel sat down at the built-in dining table and Daniel made out a handwritten Bill of Sale for the vehicle. Brian knew that the document wasn’t worth the price of the paper it was written on, but at least he’d have that in hand if the cops later pulled him over and accused HIM of stealing the RV. Not that it would hold up in court, but Brian would at least try to play dumb and thought he could avoid jail time if the worst case scenario came to pass. Brian also managed to get Daniel to show his license for proof of identification. Daniel was pretty fast about showing it but Brian was able to memorize the license number and state of issue. That was all Brian could think of to try and protect himself. He hoped it was enough. As soon as Daniel had the $250 that Brian had managed to get off his credit card at the ATM inside the airport, he’d bolted.

Since then, Brian and Justin had been combing through the contents of the RV. The damn thing was really fucking magnificent. To start with, it was thirty-five feet long. It had a living room, kitchen, dining area, a toilet and a full bath/shower, and a really nice sized bedroom with a big king-sized bed. Everything was pretty compact but it was still really elegant, amazingly well engineered and surprisingly roomy. There were even these little extension things on the sides that you could slide out when the vehicle was stopped that added another six feet of space on each side. There was a built in big-screen television and even a built in computer station. The damn thing even had a fucking electric fireplace in it! Brian’s first couple of apartments hadn’t been nearly as nice as this fucking RV and had probably been smaller.  

 They’d also soon discovered that the thing was totally equipped with everything they’d need and a lot of stuff they couldn’t possibly imagine ever using. Both the refrigerator and the freezer were fully stocked as well as the pantry. The rest of the cupboards and closets were full as well. There were even clothes in the bedroom closet - just another indicator that the thing was stolen, as far as Brian was concerned, since Daniel hadn’t been at all worried about clearing out any of ‘his’ stuff before he practically ran away from the parking area with Brian’s money. Justin was apparently having the time of his life going through every drawer, cupboard and closet and discovering all the amazingly small things that the RV held. And Brian was enjoying watching the boy’s discoveries while at the same time putting off his first attempt to try to drive the beast.

The prospect of actually driving something as big as a fucking house was daunting. Daniel had briefly shown Brian the basics but he was still feeling rather intimidated. The instrument panel on the dashboard looked more like an airplane’s dash than what he was used to in a regular car. And the operating manual - contained in a fat three-ringed binder secured in a little nook next to the driver’s seat - looked formidable. There was no way he’d get through all that in less than a week. But, after they’d been sitting there in the parking lot for more than a half hour, Brian’s uneasiness about hanging around and his fear of being in a most-likely-stolen RV, got the better of him and he decided it was time to head out.

So, taking the bull by the horns - or in this case the RV by the steering wheel - Brian finally turned the key in the ignition, listened to the huge diesel 360 horsepower engine roar to life and then pulled out of the parking space.

Driving a vehicle that was thirty-five feet long, over eight feet wide and that weighed more than 24,000 pounds was definitely an experience that Brian had never expected to have in this lifetime. Even just keeping the damn thing centered within the lines of the lane of traffic was a huge endeavor - he found he was constantly oversteering and even occasionally veering into the other lane. He also kept getting distracted by the small in-dash monitor displaying video feed from the rear facing camera that showed what was going on behind the RV. Every time a car came zooming up and started to pass them, Brian would see the motion through the camera, get startled and have to stop himself from veering off to the right. He didn’t dare change lanes - he was too scared - so he ended up just inching along with the slowest traffic in the right hand lane whenever the traffic was heavy.

Thankfully, it was a Saturday night, so as soon as Brian got away from the traffic around the airport the going got a lot easier. Meanwhile, Justin had taken over the operating manual and used it to figure out the onboard GPS system. Once that was set, the bitch-in-the-box took over the navigation and simply told Brian when to turn. That helped relieve Brian’s nerves to a large extent. He didn’t have to figure out where to go, just how to drive.

Eventually, Brian figured out that the little sticky dots that had been applied to the windshield were a good guide to tell him when he was properly aligned in the traffic lane. As long as he kept those dots lined up with the lines painted on the highway, he was good to go. After that, he felt he could relax a little - at least as long as he was only going forward. He didn’t even want to contemplate trying to turn the damn thing or *gasp* back up!

Luckily, they made it out of Portland proper in good time and hadn’t caused any major traffic accidents in the process. Justin and the GPS had managed to guide them onto Interstate 84 headed east. All Brian had to do was drive straight forward from that point on. And, since Brian was still nervous about getting out of town as quickly as possible, he decided that they’d just drive through the night without stopping. The more distance they put between Portland and themselves the better, as far as Brian was concerned.

The RV’s gas tank was pretty close to full when they’d started. Justin, who seemed to be speed reading through the operating manual as Brian drove, informed him that they had an 80 Gallon gas tank and that the vehicle should get 10-12 MPG. Which meant that this whale could go a fucking long way between fill ups. Brian hoped he could hold out as long as the fuel supply did.

Despite the excitement of this new adventure, however, his co-pilot didn’t make it very long. It had already been a very long day with a lot of other activities and memorable moments, and it had been after ten pm when they’d revved up the engines and started out of Portland, so it was really no wonder. They’d been driving for less than two hours when Brian looked over and noticed that Justin had finally conked out on him - falling asleep in the passenger’s side captain’s chair with the operating manual binder still open on his lap. Brian continued on down the darkened highway, pacing himself against the long-haul truckers and the other late night denizens of the interstate. When he started to get a little sleepy, he rifled through the rack of well-used CD’s attached to the back of the driver’s side sun visor and found an old favorite. Before long he was singing along to the Eagles’s Greatest Hits Album, hoping to ‘Take It Easy’, as he drove his new RV down the highway.

Brian just hoped that nobody who knew him would ever find out about this little road trip of his.