Victor Charlie (part four)

Inspired perhaps by watching Across the Universe, I wanted to write something that took place in the sixties. This is a joint writing project between myself and my hubby Austin Cushing. The year is 1967. What is it about? Well, primarily it's a story about best friends, hippies, government conspiracies, and a whole lot of love..

It's a serial story, so we'll be posting it in installments. This is part four , you can read the first three parts here, here  and here. 

When her mother burned her bra and started working nights, and her step-father started taking a closer interest in her - Flora Yu knew it was time to leave home.  With ten dollars in her pocket and her guitar over her shoulder, she knew she wouldn't get far. But she had to try. She'd been walking nearly three hours when her feet reached their tolerance for walking. She stuck out her thumb, hoping for the kindness of some stranger to prevail.  Another hour of walking, and her legs were aching. She considered finding a payphone and trying to call her mother. But fear of what her stepfather would do if he found her kept that thought at bay. She had to keep going, until she couldn't go anymore.

Just as she thought she might keel over, she saw her salvation - a barely running van, painted with colors brighter than the rainbow. She limped towards it, forcing herself to smile through the pain.

"Hey strangers," she said, waving. "Give a girl a ride?"

Charlie frowned a moment, but kept his comments to himself, aside from to say, "Flower girl."

Victor got on out, and opened the door for her. He helped her get her guitar and bag inside, though he gave her an assessing look as he did so. "Welcome to the van," he said, then closed the door behind her and got on in the front.  "I'm Victor, this is Charlie..."

"I'm Flora," she said in a soft voice. It felt good to sit down. She stretched out her legs in the back of the van, starting to rub them down. "Thank you for the lift."

"Where you going?" Charlie asked quietly, glancing back at her for a moment.

"Away," Flora said, frowning. She hadn't thought beyond that. She wondered if it would be impolite to take off her shoes - then looked around at all the stuff piled around back there. It didn't seem like the kinda place that stood on formality. She started unlacing her shoes.

"Where are you going?" she asked Charlie.

 With his usual standard of verboseness, Charlie answered, "California. West." After a few moments, he added, "By way of south."

Flora smiled at that. She'd always wanted to see California. And it was certainly far enough away from her stepfather's pawing hands. "Then I'm going there too," she announced.

She lost the smile when she pulled off her shoes and socks, and saw her blistered feet. No wonder why they hurt so much.

 Victor raised a brow. Picking up a hitchhiker was one thing, but picking up a girl for the entire ride was quite another.

"Well, now.. I didn't know you'd want to go so far," he said. "We got some stuff to work out about that. I don't know if we can take you all the way. I mean... Charlie's not real good with people right now, and... how old are you, anyhow?"

He couldn't tell all that well while he was driving, but she sounded like she was just a kid. He was pretty sure that was some kinda illegal. Not that he hadn't done illegal things before, but this could be some serious shit...

Charlie just shrugged a bit, and added, "You won't kill us, right?"

"My feet hurt too much to kill anyone," she assured Charlie. Flora took the flower from her hair, and offered it up to him.

And to Victor, she added. "I'm not a kid. I'm sixteen, and I can play guitar. I'm going to join a band." That came to her, just then. "And I'm going to write songs about you and Charlie, for giving me this ride. And they'll be great songs, and people will love them."

Victor couldn't help but laugh at that. She was so honestly set on it. Who knows, maybe she could do it, too.

"Alright, alright.. if it's okay with Charlie, then..."

He looked to Charlie.

Charlie just took the flower, and after a moment's thought, stuck it over an ear. "Good," he said, after a moment, before returning to his usual silence.

Flora smiled when he tucked it over his ear. "It looks good on you," she said.

She propped up her sore feet on the cushions of an old couch that seemed to be in the back, and leaned against someone's duffel.

"Don't suppose you have band-aids?"

"Pass me the duffel," Charlie answered, extending an arm back to snag it.

Flora stopped leaning on the bag, and pushed it up towards Charlie. He seemed to be a man of few words, but at least he was helpful.

"Thanks," she said.

Whatever Charlie's faults, lack of preparedness was not one of them. After a few moments of rooting around in the bag, he came up with a drab-looking metal box, and eventually offered back a pair of bandages. "Not used to walking," he observed.

"Not this much walking," Flora said, and placed the bandages over her largest blisters."I think I was walking all day before you guys stopped. No one else would."

 "Chivalry is not dead in this van," Victor said, glancing over his shoulder before returning his eyes to the road.  "Charlie saw you first, though. He's got sharp eyes."

 Charlie nodded. "Have to." What he meant by that was, as usual, unclear.

"Well, thank you, Charlie," Flora said.

She propped her feet back up on the old couch, and stuffed the scrap paper from the band-aids into her pocket. She could have just thrown them onto the shaggy carpet van floor with all the other junk down there, but it was a habit to keep things clean.

"How long have you guys been traveling?" she asked.

"Not long," Charlie answered, settling back against the seat.

"Just getting started, really..." Victor said. "I went out to California earlier though, but I came back for my buddy. We go way back."

He grinned. "Oh, and there's some food back there if you get hungry. Just help yourself and pass it around."

Flora was a little hungry, but at the moment she was more interested in Charlie. She'd noticed that for all Victor seemed to go on cheerfully about things, his friend was more withdrawn.And he had a strange look about his eyes, a look like she'd seen in her own eyes a time or two when she'd dared look in the mirror after Bad Things Occurred.

"Hey... you don't talk much, do you?" she asked Charlie.

"No," Charlie agreed politely, "I don't."

"It's like in the old movies," Victor explained.

"He's the strong silent type."

He didn't want Charlie to feel bad over not talking. Besides, he was getting better - Victor'd noticed that. Sometimes he spoke sentences with four or five words in them, which was an improvement for sure.

"Why?" Flora asked, leaning up a little towards the front seat so she could catch the profile of Charlie's face in her field of vision. "Not much for conversation?"

"Not much you'd wanna hear," Charlie answered in all seriousness.

"Alright then," Flora said. She'd respect his privacy. Maybe something bad'd happened to him, too. She knew how that could make you feel inside.

"You like music?" she asked instead. "I can play you a song if you tell me what you'd like to hear."

"Something peaceful," Charlie answered, after a few moments' thought.

"Here's something fitting," Flora said, and started playing the opening strands of California Dreamin by The Mamas and The Papas.

"You know this one?" she asked Charlie and Victor. "You guys can sing along if you want to..."

She smiled, hoping Charlie would sing more than he talked.

"All the leaves are brown,
and the sky is gray.
I've been for a walk
on a winter's day..."

Charlie hummed along - apparently he was familiar with the tune, even if he wasn't planning on singing along aloud.

Victor indeed knew this song, and chimed along on the end lines - his singing voice not entirely off key, but certainly no musician. He grinned at Charlie, finding this a quite enjoyable diversion.

"Stopped into a church,
I passed along the way...
Well, I got down on my knees
And I pretend to pray
You know the preacher likes the cold
He knows I'm gonna stay..."

Flora loved this song. She laughed a bit as Victor echoed 'Gonnna stayyyy!' loudly, and smiled encouragingly at Charlie before continuing.

"California dreamin'
On such a winters day..."

Charlie began to rummage through the duffel bag, and eventually came up with a small harmonica. After a few moments, he began to play along.

"Hey, lookit that," Victor said, smiling. Charlie must have learned how to play the harmonica when he was in the army. "Pretty groovy."

Flora continued, with her new accompaniment...

"All the leaves are brown
And the sky is grey..
Ive been for a walk
On a winters day.
If I didn't tell her,
I could leave today.
California dreamin'
On such a winters day..."

She strummed the ending chords, then clapped her hands. "That was wonderful. We could be a band..."

"Had time to practice," Charlie commented, putting the harmonica in his pocket. Harmonicas had many uses, not the least of which was to alleviate boredom.

"You did pretty good with that," Victor said.  "I never had any musical talent myself. I got recruited a couple of times to shake something or another in my friend bands in California - but I've never done very well at it."

Charlie shrugged. "Practiced a lot."

"Do you play guitar at all?" Flora asked. She strummed a few notes."I learned from my older brother."

"No," Charlie answered, "never tried." He patted his pocket a moment. "Practiced this in boot camp."

Victor made a face at the mention of Boot Camp.  "I can't imagine having to go through that," he mused. "The Man telling you when to wake up, when to go to sleep, when to jump and how high."  He clenched the steering wheel tighter.

"My brother went in the army," Flora said, strumming a sour note. "He came home in a body bag."

"Individuals walk on land mines," Charlie commented.

"Hey look, McDonalds. Anyone want some burgers?" Victor said, to change the subject. "When's the last time we ate?"

Flora's stomach rumbled at the thought of food. "...that'd be pretty good, actually."

"Yesterday," Charlie answered. "Let's stop."

Victor pulled in to the parking lot. "I could go to the drive through, but let's turn off the van and give her a break, too." He parked somewhat crookedly between the lines, and shut it off.

Flora started trying to get her socks and shoes back on, but found it difficult with her blistered feet. "You guys go ahead," she said. "I'll catch up."

"Take your time," Charlie commented, getting out of the van and opening up the back door for her. It might have been out of chivalry... or just a good old-fashioned sense of watchfulness.

"What's the holdup?" Victor asked as he came around. He glanced towards Charlie, and the open door.

Flora eased her shoes on, then laced them. She gingerly tried to put weight on her feet - and winced from the effort. It would have been easier to just let the guys go in and bring her back something, but she also had to use the bathroom. So she sucked it up, and started ambling outward.

"You should wash those," Charlie commented. "Or they'll get infected." After closing the door behind her, he added, "They're also too tight."

"Yeah," Flora said, frowning. She could wash her feet in the bathroom, but she couldn't do anything about the tightness of her shoes. "Maybe I should learn to be barefoot.."

Victor watched how painfully the girl was walking, and felt bad. "Maybe we can stop somewhere tomorrow and get you some sandals," he offered. Not that he had too much money left of the twenty his mother'd given him, but Charlie'd been picking up a lot of the tabs. The military was good for one thing - steady pay.

"We'll see," Charlie commented, as they headed on in. "Just be careful."