THE WIZARD OF ODD

I'm heading northwest on Interstate 15 this morning on a Greyhound bus to California. This will be the end of the road for now. My savings, checking account and credit cards are history. I checked out of the Diamond Inn "family motel" with porno movies this morning (right across The Strip from the Mandalay Bay hotel/casino/convention center complex) and said goodbye to Omar, the patriotic American-Muslim day clerk/night taxi driver. He’s a heck of a good guy and I’ll miss his stories about his native Egypt and adventures as an immigrant in New York City and Vegas.

After checking out of the motel, I took “The Deuce” a double decker city bus up The Miracle Mile to the Greyhound station. The driver was quite a generous fellow and allowed people without money to ride for free. At one stop this 30 something attractive blond who is poorly dressed in shower shoes, torn jeans and old sweat shirt gets on the bus and tells the driver,



“Hey I just got out of jail and don’t have any money.. I wonder if I could ride free to the downtown.”



No problem for our bus driver. The woman sits down beside me and asks to use my cell phone. Ever the gentleman I let her call about half the pimps in Vegas until she finds one with an assignment in the Freemont casino district downtown where we are headed. When she finishes she turns to me and says,



“Would you believe prostitution in the city limits of Vegas is against the law? And the cops arrest this poor working girl and lets the John go? This is Nevada and hooking should be allowed everywhere in the state.”

I tell her I agree and think the city officials are narrowed minded bigots. Then she says,



“Say for an old timer you don’t look half bad. Would you like my get out of jail special later this morning at your hotel?”



I tell her I’m headed for the bus station and say,



" I’m yet another gambler who came to town in a $50,000 Cadillac and leaves in a $150,000 GM bus.”



Nevertheless, she hands me her business card when we get off the bus in the downtown and says,



“If you come back give me a buzz. I do couples, but I draw the line with pets.”



You have to admit the American go-getter attitude is alive and well in Vegas.



I must say I was amazed to discover that prostitution is illegal within the city limits. They have these stands outside of every major hotel and casino advertising call girls complete with sexy pictures and telephone numbers. If that weren’t enough, the sidewalks overflow with illegal Mexican immigrants passing out call girl playing cards. So I can see why the woman was angry – being arrested for whoring in Vegas is like getting a speeding ticket at the Indy 500.

I find the bus station after dragging my two large suitcases down the middle of the Fremont Street Entertainment Complex. I think the city planners did this so the losers who are forced to take the Greyhound have one last gauntlet and temptation of slot machines and gaming tables to run. But I resist the last chance to lose and buy my bus ticket for San Diego which runs $50 plus $10 for the extra suitcase. I’m the first that morning to book the San Diego bus and get into position at the door. My plan is to grab the front seat. A few minutes later I’m joined by a very attractive 40sh Asian woman with her middle aged husband and teenage daughter. We began to talk and I discover that the family is from Harbin, China and the husband has a job at the University of California in San Diego teaching Engineering. These people are ex-pats and remain Chinese citizens. They ask me if I’ve been to China and I say that I have visited Hong Kong back in 1968 while a soldier stationed in Southeast Asia. The husband remembers as a child the Red Guards and the anti-Americanism of those days but states,



“The situation is totally changed now. Even in Harbin we see scores of American tourists and businessmen. China and America are friends and allies.”



We all agree that it is good the bad old days are done and that the more Americans and Chinese rub shoulders the more we learn to admire one another.


I guess it pays in the long run for countries to have shooting wars like the one we had with China during 1950-53 in Korea. After wards they always kiss and make up. This is like what happens to young boys – one week they beat the crap out of one another and the next week they are friends for life. In the case of our war with China it all had to do with the politics of the new Communist regime of Mao. He needed a “Great Satan” to unite his country and the USA filled the bill. Mao was to change his mind about twenty years later after getting screwed by his Russian allies one too many times, so he played the “The America Card” and Nixon while Nixon played “The China Card” and like Louie and Rick in Casablanca a beautiful partnership was started with the Russians cast as the bad guys.

Along with my new Chinese friends, I board the Greyhound in Vegas at the appointed time of 0800 hours. I haven’t been on a Greyhound for years and somewhat surprised to discover the bus is clean and very comfortable. I take a front seat on the right by the door. A blond mother of 30 something years with a very pretty and intelligent brown skinned little girl with long black hair take front seats just across from me behind the driver. The little girl puts her mommy under an intense Q and A about where they are going and what they’re going to do when they get there. The little girl has never been on a day long bus trip before and in quite happy to be having this adventure with mommy and on the way to see her aunt in Los Angeles. I pull out my laptop and start typing. I have two seats in the front of the bus, so I can spread out. The scene out the windows is one of desert beauty. At some point the bus crosses over to California and about an hour later the battery on my laptop gives out and I put it away. Kathy (the blond mother as I find out later) says,

“Didn’t you ever take a course in typing?”

I reply, “Yes, I did many years ago when I first came into the Army back in 1966 and was assigned a technical course at Ft. Devens, Massachusetts. The course requirement was to type 35 words per minute and I can do up to 40 WPM using my own style. The instructor wanted the class to do it the secretary way. I pointed out that the typing requirement said nothing about the technique used to pass the typing test, which I was ready to take at any time. I was written up for insubordination and sent to the Sergeant-Major who finally did back me up after I proved to him I could type the required 35 WPM.”

Kathy said, “I got you beat, buster. I can do 72 WPM. I was a secretary for years.”

"Kathy it’s a proven fact that women can type faster than men. I think your fingers and hands are designed better for this particular job.” I relate and continue. “I see you have moved up in the world from secretary to mommy. It must be a big challenge to raise a child.”

Emily, her daughter, says, “Mommy look at that mountain – it looks like it’s raining on the top. Do we have our rain coats? We might need rain coats if its raining in Los Angeles."

Kathy tells daughter, “I got your yellow raincoat, rubber boots and hat packed just in case we hit rain in LA.”

“Gee mommy you think of everything!” offers the little girl who turns her attention to her coloring book with intense seriousness and you can almost hear her thinking, “Do I color the rabbit red or blue?”

I offer, “I think most rabbits are colored grey and white.”

Emily smiles, “Even the Easter Bunny, mister?”

“Well the Easter Bunny is sorta special and only comes out at Easter.”

Emily thinks about this for a moment and pulls out the red crayon and starts coloring the ears.”

I change the topic and say to Kathy, “America is a beautiful country and there is so much of it. I drove all the way from Melbourne, Florida to Las Vegas where I lost my car. Actually I know where it is – It’s at the E-Z Pawn shop near Caesar’s Palace, and I can’t afford to bail it out. So I come to Vegas in a $32,000 Toyota 4Runner and leave Vegas on a $232,000 Greyhound bus. I’m moving up in the world. “

Kathy says, “You seem pretty upbeat about losing everything. I’d be in tears.”

“But you didn’t see me getting drunk and pounding the walls in my motel room for the last two days! This morning I felt better and hit the road. Also, it helps to be a philosopher and realize that life is a great adventure. If what happened had not happened, I would have never met you, Emily and the nice Chinese family setting behind us. So what if I’ve crashed and burned? It’s not the first time. I’m headed for beautiful San Diego, California with a few bucks in my pocket and the C.I.A. after me.”

“The Central Intelligence Agency is after you? For real? Are you a spy, mister? says interrupts Emily who never misses an episode of "24."

“No, but my friends in the CIA very likely think that of me and worse.“

" Kathy laughs and smiles, “You’re having fun with me.”

“It’s a long story, Kathy, and if I told you everything I’d have to shoot you.”

Kathy laughs again and states, “Now you’re sounding like my dad! When I was a kid he always used to say that to me and I knew he wasn’t being serious. What are you really doing out West?"

“Do you remember, ‘Paint Your Wagon’ with Clint Eastwood?”

“Oh yes, “she says, “I just recently saw it on American Movie Classics. I liked his singing.”

“Do you recall the song, ‘I Was Born Under A Wandering Star?’"

“Yes, I do.” said Kathy,

“People came from all over the world with dreams of finding the pot of gold, however,at end of the movie they are as poor in dollars as they were before they discovered the gold, but they had one helluva a great adventure and made good friends.” I relate.

The wind and rain has moved down from the mountains and discovered our bus on I-15 and pounds us. The bus driver slows down as the heavy bus is rocked. More than a few cars pull off the freeway to the shoulder to wait out the storm. The bus keeps moving, but the drivers slows to about 35 MPH. Emily looks up at her mother with concern in her dark eyes and Kathy pats her head and sings loudly from the movie,

“Way out West they have a name for rain and wind and fire. The fire is called Joe. The rain is Tess. And they call the wind Mariah.”

Emily smiles and goes back to her coloring book. Mommy is not worried, why should she be?

“Yes, I liked that old movie. I like those old Westerns. They were very romantic,” says Kathy. “The hero rides off into the sunset with heroine and they live happily ever after. You know people really do. My husband is from Samoa and we fell in love in high school. It's twenty years and four kids later and we still love each other as much as we did the first time we met.”

“I know what you mean, Kathy. I was once in love with a very special woman and lost her to cancer. I think about her every single day. But death is part of life. No one gets another second when your number is up. If you’re number isn’t up, you will continue to live. The quest will continue….”

“The Quest?” The bus has pulled out of the rain and is making its way up a mountain pass in the special right hand lane for buses and trucks. “What Quest?” asks Kathy.

“Life is a quest. A search for meaning. The meaning of the quest varies from individual to individual and changes with time. Right now your quest is to be a good wife and mother. My quest right now is a search for Truth with a capital “T.”

Kathy smiles, “You’re a very interesting man. I don’t know when you’re telling me the truth, or a tall tale. What do you really do? Let me guess? You’re a writer. I’ll have you know I had American Literature 101 in college. The remark about the C.I.A. and being a spy --I’ll bet that’s part of some story you were writing on your computer earlier. And the thing about losing all your money gambling and drinking is something you saw in a movie like, ‘Lost in America’ where the yuppie couple lost their life savings in Vegas and hit the road broke. I’m a stay at home mom and have lots of time for movies and books. A person has to get up pretty early in the morning to fool old Kathy.”

Emily looks up from her coloring book and looks at me and her mother. You can almost hear her thinking, “My mommy is smart! Don’t try to fool her. You can’t! I should know.”

Then it’s back to the coloring book......

The bus climbs to the top of the pass and starts down the other side and our ears begin to pop. The driver puts the bus in a low gear and we start down the winding road.

Kathy speaks, “This was where it happened. I got my driver’s license when I was 16 and my sister and I decided to drive this freeway to L.A. from Vegas with the permission of our parents. We had saved our nickels and dimes for the trip and I was driving the speed limit for once to save gas even though my car was an old VW Jetta that got good gas mileage even at high speed…

Anyhow, here it is....., on this curve a car full of girls from Vegas in a new Mustang passed us doing over 100 MPH the cops said later, and hit that guard rail so hard it flipped the car over the guardrail and were all killed. I mean girls were ejected from the car and went sailing into the side of the mountain and killed right before our very eyes! We stopped to help and found the driver of the car just down from the guardrail dying. The car was at the bottom of the ravine burning and it exploded when the fire reached the gas tank just like in the movies and I felt the heat from the explosion.

The poor girl I found was a sad rag doll all dirty, bleeding and broken. I didn’t touch her but leaned across her to ask if there was anything I could do. Her eyes opened and she said,

“Tell the police it was all my fault. I was drinking, smoking dope, popping pills and driving too fast.”

"Then she closed her eyes, shuttered and died." said Kathy in a faraway voice, " I’d never seen a person die before and I started crying. I took her in my arms and started weeping all the more harder and asked her to come back to the world."

"Pretty insane, huh?" related Kathy. Emily stopped writing and looked at her mother with concern, as tears rolled down her cheek.

Kathy continued her story, "Meanwhile my 15 year old kid sister was doing the right thing and going from body to body searching for someone alive she could help and finding none she came back to me and started crying too.”

“Then a California Highway Patrolman suddenly appeared by our side and other drivers started down the hill looking to help. The trooper gently took the girl out of my arms and checked her pulse."

“She’s dead.” He announced. “Was she your friend?”

“No I said. But she reminded me of me. I drive too fast just like she did.”

The trooper asked my sister, “Would you get blankets out of the back of my black & white so we can cover the dead?” He threw her the keys and she went back up the hill to the car."

”By now a crowd had gathered and some people, believe it or not, were taking pictures of the bodies and the burning car. The Highway Patrolman yelled at the photographers, "Stop taking pictures, or I'll take your film. This is an accident scene! I want you all to go back to your cars....NOW!"

"Then the trooper and I went down the hill and over to the other side and I helped him to check the other four bodies for life. We also gathered up the purses and I.D. cards. He was afraid that people would steal the purses looking for money but no one did, and soon we had five purses full of money and five I.D. cards. The trooper took these up to his squad car to secure.

"My sister made the rounds and threw blankets over each dead body. A man who said he was a Jewish rabbi said prayers over each dead girl on this sad task. At some point (I really don’t know now long) we arrived back at the roadside where more troopers had arrived and the traffic was moving slowly on only one lane. The paramedics finally arrived and two man teams with equipment went over the hillside to pick up the bodies."

"My sister and I were questioned by the trooper about the accident and we told what we had witnessed – The Mustang literally flew past us in the left lane and was going too fast to make the turn. I didn’t say anything about what the driver had said before she died. I had memorized the dead girl’s address in Las Vegas and noted that she lived far from me in the hills in a very upscale housing development. I wanted to tell her parents her last words and let them decide whether or not to inform the world."

“The trooper thanked us both and said we’d done the best that could have been accomplished at the accident site. He also asked me if I could drive, this being a pretty intense experience for a young person. I said I could and I would definitely obey the speed limits. Anyhow, we arrived at my cousin’s house in L.A. without further incident and enjoyed our vacation. I drove us back to Vegas along the same freeway and we both started crying when passed the spot where the accident happened the week before."

"The Sunday after we returned to Vegas, I drove into the hills see the dead girl’s family. I found her upscale house overlooking Vegas. I parked in the driveway and pushed the buzzer on the large oak door. A servant answered the door and told him why I must see the dead girl's parents and explained why. He took into a waiting room in the palace and a waiter served me coffee and cake while I waited. After about half an hour I was escorted to a large room with a view of Las Vegas and the valley. I knew the man from his pictures – he one of our U.S. Senators -- a tall well dressed man with beautiful grey hair. A woman I'd never seen before was present, who I assumed to be the Senator's wife and mother of the dead girl -- She too, was very attractive with Hollywood good looks and face once you saw it, you’d never forget.“

“The Senator spoke first. ‘We know what your role and your sister’s role was in the recent death of our only child. Believe it or not, we had made plans for our lawyer to contact the two of you and have this meeting to thank you for doing best to save and her and her friends. The medical reports say my daughter may have lived a short time after the accident. Did she have any last words?'"

"I lied to the Senator. I told him she’d said she loved both of them and was sorry for causing the accident; that she had been a fool; and that she asked their forgiveness.’”

"Hearing this, The woman broke down in tears and had to be taken from the room in a near collapse wailing, ‘My child. My only dear little girl with dark hair and eyes! Always so smart! Always asking questions! Always wanting to know everything!'"

"I was shocked to the core of my being by her intense grief and started crying again. The Senator, ever the gentleman, personally dried my tears with an expensive silk hankie and sat beside on the long comfortable divan. He placed a fatherly arm around my shoulders, and waited patiently while I cried my grieve out.’"

"Finally he spoke, 'Young lady, words cannot express my gratitude. I want to do something for you. Make a wish.’"

"I said, 'Senator, I want nothing’ "

"The Senator smiled and said,’ ‘I believe you. You are just one of those very good people who make life worth living. I bet you would have risked your life pulling my daughter out of a flaming wreckage, if that had been necessary.’"

"I rose to my feet. All I could think of was that I had to get away. This was too much!"

"' I have to go now,' I said, in as calm a voice as could manage '"

The Senator rose with me and walked me to the door....

"‘Young lady,'" he said as we parted, 'I’m going to do something good for you, if your family approves.’ "

"I want nothing," I said, 'I only did what any decent person would have done.'"

"'Of course, said the Senator, 'Heroes always say that and I always say that courage should be rewarded, especially those who have the bravery to lie to protect parents from a very unpleasant truth about their only child. I know my daughter, I don't believe you truly related her last words, I knew my daughter all too well, she would have have never accepted responsibility for her actions, but the important thing is that her mother believed you and will always have a good memory of her daughter to hang on to.'"

"The Senator walked me over to my beat up VW Jetta, which was so out of place parked before his mansion."

"'Senator, I said to him as he opened the door for me to get into the car, "'I don't doubt you knew your daughter better than your wife...maybe better than anyone...but believe me when I tell you she did accept responsibility for the accident and the death of her friends in her last words.'"

"The Senator stood for a moment like a statue with his eyes closed. Then he opened those icy blue eyes, so famous on Capitol Hill and stared directly into my eyes. After that I couldn't have lied to him even if I'd wanted to -- It was a come to Jesus moment...

"'I said, 'Your daughter's last words were, Tell the police it was all my fault. I was drinking, smoking dope, popping pills and driving too fast.'"


"The Senator took a deep breath and let it out as though he had been punched in the stomach. He said, 'This old Mormon believes you -- I believe these were indeed the last words of my daughter.'"

"I pulled the door closed and drove out of the driveway. I looked briefly into the rear view mirror and saw the Senator with his head tilted up looking at the sky. I found out later that in addition to being a member of the U.S. Senate, he was also a high clergyman in the the Mormon church; a religious body that didn't even believe that its members should drink coffee and tea, much less use illegal drugs and drink. I could well imagine the Senator and daughter's relationship was very stormy, to say the least.'"

“About a week later, I was told by my parents that a certain U.S. Senator wanted to put my sister and I through college with all expenses paid. Any course of study at any college anywhere in the country was acceptable and any degree up to and including a P.H.D. acceptable. We both took the Senator up on his generous offer. I went to college in Nevada and my sister went to Berkeley in California where she ended up with a doctor handle before her name.

My degree was in education and I’m certified to teach in elementary education, which comes in very handy when raising kids. I think my Emily here will be my most successful student. Did you know she has a very high I.Q.? I’m going to home school her and I figure by the time she is ten she’ll know as much as I do. Did I tell you she is good with computers? Emily has discovered Google. Last year she learns how read and write, and this year she’s racing down the information superhighway. Her favorite website is National Geographic.”

The bus pulls into a small but very clean California town where I am to change buses for San Diego. I get off to claim my baggage to pull them over to the waiting San Diego bus and they are placed in the cargo compartment. This is a half hour stop for food and restroom. The bus driver has warned us not to smoke. This is a $500 fine if the anti-smoking Nazis report you to the police as the sign informs. A smoker, dressed like a cowboy, says in anger,

“If I lived in this Burg, I’d light up right in front of the major’s house.”

But just to make a point he lights a cigarette and blows smoke at the warning sign. He looks with anger eyes at the nonsmokers as if daring them to call the cops.

Kathy and Emily join me briefly before we get on buses going in different directions never to meet again in this life. Emily has finished her coloring book and shows it to me. She has improved the simple story of a rabbit’s adventure finding carrots. In free hand she has drawn the figure of a wizard who tells the rabbit amazing stories. She hands it to me,

“This is for you, mister.”

I tell her mother, “I can’t accept this! You’ll want to keep it.”

Kathy responds, “I have a very large box of Emily’s works. One more Emily tale more or less won’t make a difference. Keep it. She likes you. You’re a fellow story teller.”

I take her coloring book, “Thanks Emily. Many thanks from The Wiz. I shall keep it always. It may be worth money some day.”

“My mommy says that a lot. She says I’m a child genius.”

Kathy smiles at her daughter’s honesty. “Hey, it never hurts to encourage your kids!”

The announcement is made that both buses will leave soon and that they are nonsmoking.

The cowboy rudely puts out his smoke and rubs the stub into the concrete with his pointy toed boots making as big a mess as possible. He’s bound for San Diego and gets on my bus.

“Happy Trails,” I say to my new friends as we part,” This means we will meet again, but maybe not in this world.”

Emily asks her mother, “I hope that happens, mommy, he’s a wizard. A good wizard who can make magical things happen.”

Kathy laughs, “Well dearest he is the Wizard of Odd.”

We three embrace and say our last goodbye.

I watch as their bus pulls out and rolls towards L.A. to team up with Kathy’s grown up kid sister for a week in Los Angeles. They both wave and smile at me. An excellent mother and a dark haired daughter perhaps sent by the Almighty to replace another mother’s beloved Emily killed in senseless accident.

I recall that I never asked their last names or addresses. But it is no matter. We will meet again in that other world where friends are forever and never part, and they will know me as “The Wizard of Odd -- who can make magical things happen.”

At least on paper.