AXLE RIVERS, read the sign, held out by a lovely but delicate young oriental woman, dressed in the classic chauffeurs uniform.
“You make that costume look good,” said Axle, addressing the serious young lady. Trying to lighten up the stiff professional.
“Mr. Rivers?” Replied the young lady, smiling slightly, caught off guard and looking slightly bashful. It was clear, thought Axle, that she was expecting, someone very different?
“Yes, its just me.” Replied Axle, charmingly bowing politely to her.
“I trust your flight went well,” Mr. Rivers?
“Yes, ha ha, I can see why they call it first class!”
“Welcome to San Francisco, Mr. Rivers. I truly hope your stay here will be enjoyable.” Said the smiling woman.
“Please,... call me Axle.”
“Yes, of coarse Mr. Rivers. If you would like to follow me.” When she spoke, she spoke trying to mimic the lofty ideals of her superiors. She boldly took the handle grip of his suitcase from him. “Is this all your bags Sir,” she asked? She only spoke in short refrains, and only when she had too. Walking and periodically pointing with her arm in the direction of the car. Axle nodded, at her every direction and tagged along, looking like a young puppy. Actually he was secretly glad she knew where she was going, in the bustle, and confusion of the noisy airport. He had been to San Francisco before, actually strangely enough with Angela, but never through the airport.
“The car is just over here, Mr. Rivers. Please follow me.” she said after their long walk to the limo area.
Waiting for cars to pass, she walked over and held open the rear door, of a remarkably clean and shinny white limo, with heavily tinted black windows. Axle stopped in his tracks, when he noticed a shapely pair of legs in red high heels sitting in the car waiting for him.
“Is this our car,” asked Axle? Looking over at the pretty chauffeur.
“Yes Mr. Rivers, Please!” She replied, motioning with her strange arm movements for him to step in.
Axle stood there looking perplexed, then stepped forward putting one hand on the limo, and bent over to see who was in the vehicle. And immediately felt sick, to see it was Angela, smiling warmly up at him. He jerked back stunned! Looking over at the young chauffeur, still holding his bag, who now looked sadly at him, like a real person for once.
And who had obviously known what was about to take place. Axle looked back in the direction in which he'd come, which now looked cold and strange. A vision of pure emptiness hit him. Then looking back at the chauffeur, he realized now why she was still holding his luggage, and why Red had given him so much money.
“Please darling, let me explain,” came Angela’s soft and haunting voice. Axle, didn’t know what to do, his head was spinning, he felt like puking.
“I can explain, please I beg you!” Came her soft and pleading voice. A voice he realized he had almost forgotten.
“What the fuck Angela,” he heard himself yell? Holding his head and spinning around. “You think you can just fuck with people’s heads!” He said, returning to the doorway, and looking down into the car at her. Axle could see tears pouring down her face. Which wounded him deeply, tempering his anger.
“Would you like me to take you back to departures Mr. Rivers? Interjected the now distraught looking chauffeur? Axle, stood up straight, and coldly looked at the woman. He wasn't sure if she were worried about him, or Angela.
“Fuck! is this the fucking twilight zone, are you people for real?
“Axle, I can understand how you must feel, you have no idea how its been for me as well? Please you must try and understand. Please just hear me out…please!”
“Why the fuck should I?”
A concerned looking gentleman, standing near by, asked if he could be of any assistance. Axle hated busy bodies, and now even more so. He was about to take his frustrations out on the man, when something deep inside stopped him.
Turning back, he asked. “Why Angela, why couldn’t you just let me fade away and die. Did you really have to come back and poke my heart with a fucking stuck?
“Sir, is everything OK?” Repeated the well dresses man, a little more firmly. Axle then realized this wasn't just some passing stranger. This was all being well orchestrated for the benefit of a peaceful, smooth reunion. For what … was any bodies guess?
“Please Sir, step into the vehicle, or walk away, asked the gentlemen firmly? Apart from his own embarrassment, Axle felt a mixture confusion and stupidity and stepped into the car. Directly across, and not beside the women he’d been longing for. The chauffeur, leaned in and asked. “The beach house mam?” Angela nodded, and the chauffeur closed the door. Leaving them alone and to themselves.
Angela and Axle quietly stared blankly at each other, and into space, as the car maneuvered its way out of the congested airport. “Beach House,” coughed Axle, clearing his throat. Angela nodded her head. Her cold silence and died cheeks left Axle thinking she had had enough of him. Axle stared out the window, and could see the fogged in tips of the Golden Gate bridge. He thought of Reds well oiled machine. Subtle, yet in your face, low keyed, but powerful, respectful, and yet demanding respect.
“Reds set up the meeting in Bolinas.” Confirmed Angela, breaking the long silence. Axle had forgotten how she kept business and pleasure separate, and never called him Daddy, Dad, or Father.
“What’s Bolinas. I thought I was being invited to the compound?”
“Please, don’t ever use the term compound in front of Red!” She advised.
“You meant, where’s Bolinas,” stated Angela?” She could see the confusion registering in his face, and felt they’d both needed a break from confusion for the day.
“It’s the best kept secret on the west coast darling.” Offered Angela. Axle was relived to hear her speak, and call him darling. Although he also thought she may have said it just out habit? He didn’t care much at that moment where they were going. They both looked, and reached for a bottle in the mini-bar at exactly the same time and bumped hands. The electricity of the touch shocked them both, and they both quickly withdrew their hands. They were both emotionally tired, and neither one knew it. Axle laughed first, then Angela began crying and laughing at the same time.
Axle reached for a tiny bottle of whisky, and twisted off the cap and handed it to Angela, then helped himself to another. They both took long swigs, then Angela, tears streaming down her face, kicked off her high heels, and flopped over and cuddled in beside Axle. He through his arm around her and pulled her tightly in to himself. They sat there huddled together like that for the trip to Bolinas, and the beach House.
“You’ll love it here,” she said, as they turned in off the highway. “It’s a writer’s paradise, many famous writers, and artists live here,” whispered Angela. “The towns people kept tearing down the highway sign in, so the county just stopped trying to post it. They're very secretive, and private here.” Through the shady trees Axle began to see glimpses of the sparkling Pacific Ocean, and felt somehow rejuvenated by it. Axle slipped his hand up under Angela’s blouse and wiggled in under bra, and held her full firm breast. Angela cooed, and shifted her body, to allow him free access.
A limo passing through the quaint little village of Bolinas, couldn’t help but attract attention. Axle felt strange seeing people stop what they’ve been doing, to stop and gawk at them. He wasn’t use to seeing such quantities of surfers about either. It was a different and unusual place for sure.
“O there’s Micky,” cried Angela, sitting up, and adjusting herself! Popping Axle out of his soft dream. Axle could hear the tires crunching gravel, as the limo turned into a long gravel driveway. Axle nearly shouted when he saw his Harley sitting beside Angela’s, out past a waving little Midget.
“What the fucks my bike doing…here, yelled Axle, then lowered his voice?
“O I forgot to warn you, sorry darling?”
“Who’s Mickey anyway?”
“Micky, he’s practically my uncle, he’s been in the family so long!
“But he’s…?
“A midget” … offered Angela.
“Ya,” said Axle, but his mind was far away, thinking about Reds interest in his bike shed, and Drano’s involvement? “What the fuck is going on he thought to himself, why does there always have to be drama around this woman? Axle stepped out, and was immediately hit by the smell of the salt sea air, and the refreshing cooler temperatures of the Oceanside. Rosa, Angela’s Mexican maid came running out and along with Midget Mickey, they all did a weird circle dance hugging one another together. A queer little dance that seemed to go on for ever. Axle just stood there watching, along with the oriental chauffeur, both staring at the odd little unrehearsed performance.
Dan Ger
