Guy In San Blando Chapter 3

THREE.

At the end of the Fishwife gig, Herm Rottweiler felt like an invincible rock thunder god.  Something had been clicking in his practice lately, and he felt he had moved into a new level of musicianship.  It was intensely exciting.  Rott had begun to feel almost unlimited in his playing possibilities; he was beginning to feel that he could execute any creative idea he had because he had the technique.  And on top of that, his pants hadn’t caught fire that night.  He was in control of his whole game.

Mary had suggested they all go to Ice Cream In Your Face after the gig, but Rott lived over an hour away, and wanted to drive, so he begged off.  Rott loved to drive after a gig; it was a great way to unwind.  He would put the Allman Brothers or Pink Floyd real low on the stereo, think about the gig, and drive the winding highway back to his place rather than the freeway.  He was about forty minutes into his drive when his phone rang.  Rott put in his earpiece. 

“Rock god speaking,” he said in a Billy Idol accent.

“Herm?”  a shaky female voice said.

“Yeah.  This is Herm.  That you, Dee?”  Dee was Rott’s on-again, off-again girlfriend, who at the present was off-again.  Dee was a nickname, short for DeNiro.  Dee’s father was a pathologically obsessed Robert De Niro fan.

“Oh thank god you picked up!” she gasped.

Dee had a penchant for turning her life events into high drama, and Rott heard from her tone of voice that this was one of those times.  She had once made him leave work early and drive an hour and a half to her mom’s house, because she had “dropped her ring in the garbage disposal” as she explained on the phone.  As it turned out when he arrived, she had dropped a plastic napkin ring, not a piece of valuable jewelry.

“What’s the problem, Dee?  I’m driving home from a gig.”

“My car died.  I’m stranded.  I couldn’t get any cell phone service, so I started walking to get service, and I don’t remember how far back I left the car, and I’m scared.  Can you come get me?  Please?”

Herm Rottweiler thought for a moment.  If I go help her, he thought, she might think I still want to be with her, and I definitely do not.  If I tell her to call somebody else, she will hate me, and I will never be with her again.  Maybe this is my chance to really make it clear that she has no power over me anymore.  But she did sound scared.  And it is late.  It might be dangerous.  If I don’t help her, I’ll go home, trying not to think about her, and I’ll worry, then I’ll call her and…

“Herm?  You still there?”

“Only you and my mom call me Herm.  Everyone else calls me Rott.”

“Are you going to help me?  Maybe I’ll call Dano…”

“No,”  Rott interrupted.  “Where’s your car?”

“I told you, I’m not sure.”

“Well, where were you when it died?  What street were you on?”

Dee sighed impatiently.  “Cow Canyon Road.  Just past the mini-golf and paintball place.”

Rott was on Cow Canyon Road now.  “Which direction were you headed?”

Just as he asked, his headlights caught a young woman with bright pink hair walking by the side of the road, talking on her phone.  It was Dee.  Rott pulled over and put the car in park. He was on the opposite side of the road from her.  Dee had not recognized his car in the dark.

“Oh my god!”  She screeched into the phone as she began to panic.  “Somebody just pulled over!  I think I might get abducted!”

“Relax.”  Rott laughed.  “Probably a good Samaritan.”  He stepped out of the car so she could see him.  “How’s that for service?”  He shouted to her from across the road.

Once Dee was in Rott’s car, and they were driving again, she seemed as if nothing had been wrong at all.  She chatted about whatever came into her head, and Rott said, “Mm hm”  “Really?” “I been there,” and all the other stock responses he had practiced to make himself seem interested.

Suddenly, Dee barked “Oh, guess what!...” and she grabbed his arm as if she had huge news.  Rott had been in a kind of lull and she really surprised him.  He involuntarily swerved off the road.  His car headed down an embankment into the cow pastures.  Luckily, there were very few trees along this stretch, so he didn’t hit anything.  His car just went down about twenty-five feet, barely missing a small pond, and after a bit of weaving Rott came to a stop near a group of bewildered goats.  The goats did not seem to mind his presence after the initial shock of seeing his car nearly landing in their pond. 

“Nice driving, Herm,” Dee said.

“You got us here, DeNiro.  Why’d you grab my arm?”

“I don’t remember now,”  She said, turning her head away.

Rott looked around.  All around was dark.  There was no way his vehicle could climb the steep embankment they had come down, so he had to find another way.  The car seemed fine, and all his gear, though a little shaken up, also seemed ok.  A few hundred yards ahead he saw a glow on the horizon which seemed like it might be a good place to hook back up to the highway.  But before they started to try to find their way back to the road, Rott got out his favorite guitar, the ’73 Gibson Explorer with the purple flames, and posed with the goats, lit by his headlights, while Dee took some pictures with his phone.  Then they got in the car and set out.  Rott drove slowly through the grassy valley, hoping  to find a fire road, a driveway or something that might lead to civilization.  He made his way toward the light on the horizon, and as they neared it, his theory seemed to be correct.  It was another section of Cow Canyon Road.  Here there was no embankment, and they were able to drive easily onto the road again.  He was only on the road a few seconds when he realized he was almost home. 

“Short cut,” Rott said to Dee.