Sarah's Love - Cover

Sarah's Love

Copyright© 2015 by Allan Kindred

Chapter 2

Christopher decides to drive his custom red '67 Chevelle SS out to Connecticut in the dead of winter. Even though it has a big block engine and will suck up the gas like nothing else, he wants to drive his American muscle car across America. He has been to foreign countries and served in war, but he has never driven across the country he has given so much of himself to. He is excited, and looks forward to witnessing the beauty of his beloved nation.

"First stop Nevada and highway Eighty." Christopher could have gone the southern route, but he figures he might as well stop by Orangevale and visit his mother Martha, his brother Alex and his wife and two kids that he barely knows.

As he is driving up interstate five, he flashes back to the phone call to his brother. "Alex, guess what?"

"What's up?"

"They are turning one of my novels into a movie."

"Which one?"

"Volleyball Girl."

"Wow, that's great. Congratulations!"

"Thanks. Hey, I bought another house, and this one is back east in Connecticut. So on my way through I thought I would stop by and visit you and your family, and mom of course, if you have the time."

"Sounds great! We don't get to see you much. The kids will be glad to see you again."

"You think? I'm surprised they would even remember me."

"No way, man, you are good with kids. They love you, and always appreciate the signed novels you send us. Have you talked with mom yet?"

"Yeah, I talked with her this morning."

"I think it is good you are coming by."

"Yeah, why's that?"

"She's not doing too well, Christopher. Maybe it'll pick her up knowing that you are coming by to visit. You are her baby after all."

"Yeah, yeah. Hmm, maybe I'll stay an extra couple of days."

"Sounds good. Where are you going to stay?"

"Ah, I thought I'd stay in a motel somewhere between yours and mom's place."

"No, now come on, you know I have the computer room with a guest bed in it. Hang out with us for a few days, visit with mom, and we can celebrate your success."

As Christopher is driving down the interstate with taillights glowing red and long lines of white lights streaming by, his eyes tear up as he is heading to a place of many memories.

By the time he changes from Interstate Five and heads to Highway Fifty heading towards South Lake Tahoe, it is almost midnight. He smiles as more memories flood into him and he mashes the gas pedal and watches the speedometer increase with a sense of perverse pleasure. He goes by Highway Ninetynine, and then he flies by the early turn off that will eventually get you around to the UCD Medical Center.

As he sees his speedometer hit triple digits, he looks over to his left and sees the PG and E building where he had spent more than one day with his mom trying to get an extension on the electric bill. It was never easy for their single mom, but she never complained, worked hard, and made sure they always had something for their birthdays and Christmas.

He lets off the gas a little as he comes up the rise, and continues to slow down, since there are usually Highway Patrol near Howe Avenue. After he makes it past Howe Avenue and has a good look around, he mashes the gas again to see how fast he can be going by the time he gets to Watt Avenue. He stops increasing at a hundred and thirty, and pulls back until he is cruising at seventy-five.

All through out his teens he used to tear up the streets of Sacramento County, so he thought it was only appropriate to come home in the same fashion. Of course it is midnight and very few cars are on the road.

Eventually he gets to Hazel Avenue, goes over the freeway, and starts making his way towards Orangevale. He looks over to his right and sees Lake Natomas, where his mom brought him to fish many times in his childhood and where he saw people running remote control boats. As he starts to go over the bridge that spans the American River, he looks over and down and sees the fish hatchery.

He rolls his window down and gives his '67 Chevelle SS with the built up three ninety-six big block motor the gas. He always loved the sound of a hotrod going through the little canyon-like area, but now as he looks up and to his left, he sees a whole new apartment complex that wasn't there when he was a kid. As he lets off the throttle and slows down, a white Sacramento County Sheriff's car drives by going the other way.

The officer gives him a good look and Christopher smiles and waves at him. The officer flies up to the stoplight intersection where you turn into Lake Natomas or the fish hatchery and does a u-turn. In Christopher's day the cop could have done an immediate u-turn, but now, thankfully, there is a center divider. As soon as Christopher gets to the top of the hill he guns it and his hotrod jumps to life. He gets his car up to ninety, and then slows down real hard and starts doing the speed limit. A minute later the deputy sheriff is following him.

Christopher ignores him, because unlike in his teens he has actually managed to keep his driver's license. He comes up on Madison Avenue and sees a new Chevron on the nearest right corner. He pulls in and pulls up to a pump. Before he gets his gas he starts walking in to get himself a soda. The sheriff sweeps in and pulls up to the front of the building.

"How you doing tonight, officer?"

"Good, and you?" he says, getting out of the cop car. As most police officers are, this one is physically fit.

"Not bad." and then, as Christopher is about to walk into the store part of the gas station, he stops and turns back to the officer. "You know, I don't know if you are from around here, officer, but I haven't been home in years and this place certainly has changed."

"You from around here originally?"

"Yeah, my mom, older brother and me lived all around Orangevale and Folsom."

"You think Fair Oaks and Orangevale has changed, you should see Folsom."

"Really? That's too bad, because I spent a lot of my childhood out in the rock piles of Folsom."

"Almost all of them are gone now. So you haven't been home in a while, huh? Where have you been?" He just can't help being a cop.

"Well, I did ten years in the Army as a Ranger, and then I've been in Hollyweird writing my novels."

"A writer, huh? Don't move." The officer says reaching for his gun.

"Relax, officer, I have a permit to carry a loaded and concealed weapon."

"Let me see it, slowly."

Christopher pulls out his wallet and pulls out the permit and his identification. "Sorry, but you can't be too careful these days."

"Don't even trip, officer. When I came back from Iraq I was jumpy as all get out."

"Iraq, huh! I was a Marine there."

"Did you operate any where near Fallujah?"

"Yes, as matter of a fact I was there for the original push."

"Oh man, I couldn't believe the politicians reined you boys in just as you were getting geared up to finish it."

"Don't even get me started. Where were you?"

"First tour I was on the original push through Iraq and then on into Baghdad, but my second and third tours I was stationed out of Baghdad in a quick reactionary force that covered the whole region. I belonged to the one Ranger division they actually consider Special Forces."

"I did two tours myself." Just then his radio goes off. "One second." the officer says, putting up his finger. He listens to his call and says, "Well, hey, I got to go. It has been nice talking with you."

"You too, Marine. You take care of yourself." The officer gets into his car and tears out of the parking lot heading up Madison Avenue towards Sunrise Boulevard.

Christopher goes into the store and gets his soda and a candy bar from the chunky white girl with brunette hair. By the time he gets his gas and his bearings, it is past one o'clock in the morning.

He pulls out onto Hazel and starts heading towards Greenback Lane. After he makes a left on Greenback, he goes up to where a Lumberjack used to be when he was a kid, but it too is long gone. He takes the first right past the parking lot, and then he takes the next first right and goes all the way down to the dead end and stops in front of the last house on the right. In the driveway of the average white house there are two family style vehicles. One is a gold truck and the other is a dark blue sport utility vehicle, both made by Ford.

Christopher sits in front, not wanting to wake them up. As he sits there he plans on visiting his mom in the trailer park on Main Avenue. She used to live in the one in Rancho Cordova, but they just kept raising their prices. It's not that Christopher and Alex couldn't help her afford it, but it was just the point. True, the one on Sunrise Boulevard is a little nicer, but still.

As Christopher is sitting there getting lost in his thoughts, the porch light comes on and Alex walks out on the porch and waves him in. He looks over and nods and waves as he rubs his face. He nods his head again, this time more to himself, and then he gets out of the car. He walks back to the trunk and pulls out a medium black bag.

As he is walking around the fence and up the driveway, he says, "I didn't want to wake anyone."

"Oh please, Wendy, Michael and Katie can sleep through anything." He smiles and laughs as he holds out his hand to his younger brother, who he has not seen in years. "Still fit, I see."

"Of course. You're looking good yourself, although I think I see a little bit of a gut there. It must be the family life."

"Definitely!" says Alex, patting his brother on the back of the shoulder as he walks into the living room. "Come on, put your stuff in here." He leads him down the hallway to the first room on the left. On one side of the white room is the computer desk and on the other side is the bed.

Christopher drops his stuff and walks back out. As he is coming out, Alex's wife Wendy comes out of their bedroom that is just to the left of the guest bedroom door as you are coming out of it, yawning and stretching. The whole family are blond haired blue-eyed Aryans. "Well, well, look who has finally shown up."

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