Page 20 of Red's Peril: Part 1

I have visions ofCSIand films showing the strip. “Does anyone take themselves seriously in that town?” And avoid getting murdered in a myriad of nasty ways. I’ve always wanted to visit, but choose it as a place to live? Nah, doesn’t appeal to me.

“I’m going to retire to Miami,” Brett puts in.

“You are retired!” Les points out, with a sideways look toward Fred.

Brett waves his hands dismissively. “Well, when I retire from being retired—”

“Then you’ll be dead.”

I snort at Fred’s comment.

“Arizona,” Les suddenly puts in.

Arizona? My eyes narrow. “Is anything there except for desert?”

Les snorts. “There’s Phoenix for a start, that could be a good place. Or,” he taps his nose as he thinks, “what about Tucson? Great place that. Winters are mild, and there’s a mountain range where you can go skiing if that’s what you like.”

Tucson. Despite the fact I’ve no impulse to go speeding down a mountain on two wooden sticks, I consider it for a moment, but all I can conjure up are the westerns I’ve watched in my life.

“Tucson’s good,” Brett agrees. “Knew a girl from there once.”

Fred throws a beer mat at him. “You knew a girl everywhere, or according to you anyway. Doubt there’s much truth in it.”

“Fuckin’ is,” Brett growls, sending a heated look toward his friend. I brace myself to separate these old codgers if they start fighting, but now ignoring him, the offended man turns back to me instead. “Tucson’s a city, but not one big enough so you’d get lost. Friendly place too if I remember rightly.”

“Don’t mind him,” Les leans in and confides to me. “He can’t remember shit. We have to remind him of his name half the time.”

Dutifully, I chuckle. But the old man has made me think. Couldn’t hurt swinging by to look at what Arizona has to offer. The climate is right, and from what I can recall, it’s not on a fault line, and it’s not a place I associate with hurricanes or tornados. I could land there, see if I can find work and just see how it goes. Doesn’t mean I have to commit to staying there forever.

Brett nudges Les and jerks his head toward Fred whose eyes have closed. “Best get this one ‘ome.”

Les grins, grabs his car keys out of his pocket and stands. “Nice meeting you, Red. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Yeah.” Brett stands and takes one of his friend’s arms while Les takes the other. “And if you run into a big breasted woman called Betsy, give her my best regards.”

I snort, wondering how many elderly Betsy’s I’d have to come across to find the right one. Especially when Les barks a laugh. “That’s if he’s even remembering the correct state, let alone the right town.”

With his free hand, Brett shoots Les the bird. Then, gently, the pair raise Fred to his feet. He snaps awake looking bleary-eyed, but as he doesn’t protest their help, I gather they’ve done this a time or two before.

As I go to the bar and get another beer, I wonder where I’ll be and who with when I reach their age. Hopefully, I’ll have friends who’ll have my back, just like Bert and Les had Fred’s. And who’ll yank my chain and not let me get away with shit, just as I’ll yank theirs in return. And when I’ve had too much to drink, will help me find my way home.

But between now and then, I’ve a whole lifetime to live.

Which brings me back to the conversation I’d just had. Tucson? Why the fuck not? Might be time I started heading for a particular point on the map rather than just dallying around.

Yeah, Tucson. I start to like the sound of it.

Wonder whether Cheryl would have been happy there.

I grimace, staring down into my beer. Whether she would or not is a moot point. I’ve divided my journey into two segments, that with and that without her. I know which I prefer. Having someone to share shit with had been better than being alone. That she hadn’t been the right woman for me is obvious, seeing how easy it was for us to part. Perhaps I could find a replacement?

But it’s her I miss, not just a female to keep me company. Having parted like we had, it felt unfinished. Maybe it’s that I’ve no way of contacting her that I can’t get her out of my mind. I can’t reassure myself she’s safe. I’d give anything just to speak to her one last time. Perhaps if she could better voice her justifications for leaving me as she had, it might make me realise that we’d just come to a division in the road.

Maybe I’m putting her up on a pedestal, but she’s become all that I want. While I tell myself how stupid it is, something tells me that she was my one and that I’d lost her.

I should have done more. Gone back with her. Maybe stayed for a time.If I could have explored what I was beginning to feel for her, maybe I could have settled down.

But I didn’t and wishes and second thoughts won’t resolve one damn thing. Tomorrow, I’ll head for Tucson. I might be able to make it in one day if I push on. Consulting a map, I see it’s darn near eight hundred miles to Tucson from where I am now. Doable if I leave early.

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