Tuesday, August 17, 2010

"A.J., I've jumped ..."

"A.J., I've jumped ...."

I re-read Charli's last email, thinking she'd just punked me. I dial her number and read it one more time. Ring, once, twice, three times, voice mail. Frustrated, I hang up, type a few lines and press send.

No response. An hour passes, nothing. She sends me a brief message:


I QUIT. Charli Mac is going to die in an alcohol induced frenzy.
Good bye cruel world. I am done son.

I don't quit. You can knock me down, kick me a few times, and spit in my face, but I DON'T QUIT. So, Charli, my American lover ... 'tis what are husbands think, I am not letting you off that easily.

Uh no, not happening.

After that message, I was revved up. I pulled my suitcase out of the closet, tossed in some clean knickers, hair straightener and lip stick. I was ready to go. Called the hubby at work, got his voice mail and told him, "Baby, I'm driving to Philly." Dropped my daughter off at the mother in laws, typed Charli's coordinates into my trusty GPS, got a coffee, and hit the road.
I raced through downtown Toronto, intent on my goal;
to reach the U.S. - Canadian border by noon.

What's an eight hour and fifty nine minute drive for yer crit lass? Nothing. The GPS told me I'd be passing over a few toll bridges, you want to bypass it asks? Nah, what are toll bridges?

We just get taxed for that shit here.

Palms sweaty, I reach the border, buzzed on coffee, jittery, and in need of food. I pass a middle aged woman my paper work. Taciturn, and unsmiling, she looks at my passport, then up at me. Three times. That's right, I draw my eyebrows on.

"What business do you have in the U.S., ma'am?"

"Driving to Philly to stop my crit partner from jumping off the ledge."

She stops in her perusal of my passport and glances up, lips compressed in a tight line. "You're going to stop your, uh, crit partner from jumping off a ledge?"

I smile, and nod enthusiastically, let her think I'm some crazy Canuck. "Aye, lass."

She ducks into her little booth, all the while staring at me, picks up a phone and starts talking. Great, she thinks I'm nuts. Hanging up the phone, she steps back out and passes me my passport. "Have a nice day, ma'am."

Woot, I'm over the border, only another five or so hours to go. I'm almost there. I can feel it, taste it, driving on the open road. Four, three, two hours, I'm going to be there by sunset.

Charli keeps calling me, probably thinking I was joking when I replied to her email with:


That's it! I'm driving to Philly. You better have a couch
for me to sleep on after a 9 hr drive. Peace out.


Nuts eh? Who the hell drops everything and drives nine hours? Me, nuts over here. 'Shrugs.' Why not, I thought. Hubby just said, uh huh,
ok babe, drive safe, don't speed and call me when you get there. Great guy huh? He's a keeper!

Phone is still ringing, my GPS is beeping, telling me I'm going over the speed limit, and then I see it, TOLL BRIDGE AHEAD. Yeah, yeah, I fish into my purse, pull out a bill and keep driving.

Rate: 0.75 - No problem.

Yeah, right.

If it involves AJ and Charli, guaranteed, there's gonna be a problem.

I hand the dude a five dollar bill, a Canadian five dollar bill.

'We don't accept foreign currency ma'am."

I'm almost to Philly, tired, sweaty, and dying for a smoke. "We take American money in Canada, just do the conversion." He looks at me like I'm nuts. "Better yet, keep the change."

"Are you bribing me ma'am?" I'm not a granny. I hate when peeps call me ma'am.

"No, sir." I never thought about stopping to get my money changed into American dollars. "So, um your not going to take the money? Mastercard?"

Nope, he wouldn't take my money, even after I tossed it at him and tried to cross the bridge. He called in the state troopers, big guys with funny hats. Ever seen the inside of a po-dunck, out of the way jail cell? Nope?

I have.

They gave me one call. And it went something like this. "Charli, yeah, that's right I'm in, where am I?" Troopers tell me, I tell her. "Get in your car and come an get me. Bring 0.75 American. Yeah, their looking at me funny. Hurry up. Bye."

Without Charli's bail money, I wouldn't be here. Here with wifi and some smarties, my snoring husband and chafed wrists.

I owe you, Charli and this is me giving back, I PROMISE to track down those god damn legbreakers, twist a few arms, and strangle yer maker.

Better start saving.

I might need bail money.




19 comments:

  1. Megan, I'll kick her ass, and drive back to Philly, with AMERICAN money, just to do it :-)

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  2. OMG I LOVED THIS!! This was so enagaging AJ!! What an awesome tale...Now of course not sure how much of it is fiction lol.

    Oh, and the part about painting ur eyebrows on LOL.

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  3. Still in hiding, peeking my head out to say, "Yo!".

    Driving to upstate NY when you are already on the edge to bail out a crit partner, not a good way to spend a Saturday...

    I may just go all Thelma and Louise and drive right off the fecking cliff!

    But AJ would follow and cause more trouble.

    Sigh.

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  4. Feckin' right. Oh, Mart, the sad part is, its actually true. LMAO I'm nuts! And Charli, well .... she's Charli.

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  5. You two are better than Thelma & Louise! AJ & Charli, the dynamic duo-ettes! The writing world can't live w/o the two of you!!
    Charli, come back! Aj, make her, dammit!!

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  6. All over it, Mika. Trust me, if anyone can do it, its .... Super Canuck, er me lol :-)

    Damn pissy, Charli, to annoy your fans by not listening to the crying, the begging, and the leg pulling, trying to drag yer arse back.

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  7. I have the clown nose, I have the power. Taint nothing worse than an author scorned.

    Charli is mine...my creation, my to disperse of.

    She talks too much, too loud, and takes up entirely too much of me time.

    What else am I supposed to do. She almost wacked an 18 yr old agent for Christ sake's.

    She's goota go, sorra. Don't know what else to do...

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  8. TOO, TOO, TOO DAMNED FUNNY, A.J.!!!!!
    I could piture everything...

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  9. Wait Charli's too young to die! Pickles go easy on her.

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  10. I'm going kick Pickles arse! This broad is really getting under me skin!

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  11. omgosh - hysterical! love this story!

    i wish i could say i was that interesting.

    the best i've got is my husband driving through a railroad crossing, nearly breaking them off, and saying "Does this mean I have to stop now?"

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  12. You two are the damnest pair...you've got a great thing going and some people are friends for years and never make it this particular height. You put a song in my heart! Spread the love ladies! K

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  13. LOL...LOL...I read this yesterday and I'm still laughing. I can just picture AJ pacing in a cell, then grabbing the bars, shaking them while yelling, "It's real money, honest. It only looks like monopoly money!!!"
    Brenda

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  14. Charli is trying to escape as we speak. But we got a Jersey Shore weekend. Girls only. Maybe I will give her another chance.

    Maybe the weekend is what we need to decompress.

    We shall see. AJ isn't allowed to come, banned in the States and all.

    Ahhh, I can hear the waves. Jersey here we come!

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  15. Monopoly Money! Damn, why do all Americans think that?

    We live for this, and I'm not really banned from the states, just a certain 'area' which will remain nameless. Geez, it was only a warning, not REALLY a ban, I've got no record, I'll just remember to bring that black and white stuff ya'll call money!

    State troopers are far too serious.

    Glad we could make yer heart sing Anonymous ...

    :-)

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  16. Hey, don't have much time. Pickles is packing for the Jersey Shore. I saw her packing, no really packing. She's got a gloch 9 with her and is mumbling about asshats and haters.

    I am hiding in the closet typing. I might be able to get a post out. Hopefully it will help change her mind about wacking me.

    I bribed the legbreakers with Salami and Colt 45. They gave me a short reprieve. But these cement shoes are heavy as feck.

    Be back and wish me luck.

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  17. K, Lynn, and Amie, thanks for stopping by! We love newbies.

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