old. As hard as my life turned out to be, at least I had a mama. It sure must have been hard for Carol trying to become a woman with no female to show her the way. After all those years of living with men, I could understand why Carol wanted to find herself a female relation.
By the time we made it to Georgia, it was getting close to lunch-time. My stomach started making some pretty loud noises.
"I sure am glad to be out of Florida," I said. It was the first time in my life I had crossed the state line.
"And what is so bad about Florida?" Lewis asked.
"My mama always told me the past should stay put. No sense bringing it with you everywhere you go."
"Keeping secrets, already, huh?" he said.
"I guess there are some things that are best kept to myself."
"Suit yourself,” Lewis said. “What about you, Carol? Care to share some of your escapades hitchhiking your way across the USA?"
"Well, I don't mind bringing up the past. I'm actually a big advocate of over-indulgent wallowing in self-pity and grief. It's become sort of a trademark of our lost generation."
"And what's your sad tale of woe?"
"It all started when I was born. It was downhill from there."
Lewis chucked, "It couldn’t have been that bad."
"Wanna bet?"
"Sure, why not?"
"What's the wager?"
"How about a round of drinks for all of us if your tragic life really isn't all that bad?"
"And how will we determine just how bad 'all that bad' really is?"
"How about we let Alice decide?"
"Wait just a minute," I said. "Why do I have to decide?"
Lewis said, “You’re the impartial judge. Here’s how it works. Carol is going to give us her life story, the short version, please. Alice, you decide if her life really has been as bad as Carol thinks."
"I'll give it a listen," I said. "But I'm not sure what kind of judge I’ll make. I don't have too much experience in that area. Are you sure you want me to decide?"
"Of course," said Lewis. "I trust you implicitly."
I don’t know how Lewis got to trusting me so fast but I have to say I was starting to feel the same way about him.
"Okay, then," said Lewis. "It's settled. Alice will be our judge. Carol, whenever you're ready, start your story."
"Well, I'm the oldest of three kids. I have two younger brothers. Justin was born when I was three and Devon came along when I was five. You already know my mother split. Left my dad to raise the three of us on his own. We'd hear from her occasionally. She'd send a letter or postcard. Always from some exotic location. She told my dad she wanted to travel the world while she was still young enough to enjoy it. Maybe she should have thought of that before she popped out three kids. She never did call us. Not once. I don't even remember what her voice sounds like, I was so young the last time I heard it. The most recent postcard I received was mailed from LA. She said she was trying to make it in show business. That was a couple years ago. She obviously hasn’t made it big yet. I hope she's still there. Anyway - I'm going to California to try and find her."
"Why?" Lewis asked.
"Unfinished business. I want to confront all of those demons from the past that still haunt me almost twenty years later."
"And what happens if you do find her?" he said.
"I want to know why. And I don't mean why she left. That's a no brainer. Three kids by the time you're twenty-five. That's a heavy trip, man. I'll be twenty-six this year. I can’t imagine having three kids to take care of. I can hardly take care of myself. I guess I want to know why she never gave a shit. How could she not care about her own kids? You know what I mean?"
"That's it? That's your story?" asked Lewis.
"That's for Alice to decide." Carol said, "Mine is an incredibly sad tale. I think Alice will agree."
"I have to admit it didn't sound like too sad a story the way you just told it," I said. "But then again, I didn't have to grow up without a mama. I'm sure that was mighty hard, especially considering you're a female and all. Of course, I didn't grow up with a daddy. Truth be told, my mama never did tell me, who my daddy even was. At least you know who your mama is and where to find her."
"I hope I can find her but what about my story? Did I win the bet or what?"
"All I can say is that I think you turned out to be a mighty fine person, considering your past and all. At least from what I can tell so far. In my life time, I've seen a lot worse.”
"So you're saying I lost the bet?"
"I reckon that is what I'm saying."
"I guess the next watering hole we come upon, I'm buying a round."
After that, Carol sat back in her seat and kept to her own thoughts for a while. It didn't seem like she was too happy with my judging. But I had to tell the truth. Where I came from, it’s not that unusual for kids not to know one parent or the other. In fact, most didn’t. But I could feel the pain in my own heart that Carol felt in losing her mama.
The afternoon came to an end before anybody said another word. By that time, I was long past hungry into feeling like I could eat some dead animal off the side of the road. I was mighty glad when Lewis finally asked if we wanted to stop.
"There's a sign for Unadilla: Population 2772," said Carol. "Maybe we can find someplace to grab a bite to eat and I can pay off the bet at the same time. I could sure use a beer."
"It is getting late," said Lewis. "Maybe we should think about calling it a day."
We decided to make a stop at a tavern called Lucky Lou's that Lewis and Carol both liked the looks of. I have to say that I was a little afraid going into the likes of a place like that. It reminded me of the kinds of places Billy liked to spend his evenings. I never liked what the boozing did to Billy. It always seemed to make him meaner. And meaner was not something he ever needed to be.
Lucky Lou's was dark and the air was thick with the smoke of cigarettes. There was a large bar the length of the place and about eight tables that were all full. In the back of the tavern were two pool tables and a dartboard. Lewis motioned for us to sit with him at the last few open spots the end of the bar.
"The place is packed," he said. "Probably the only bar in town."
"What is that noise?" said Carol. "Geez, it sounds like a cat in heat."
"I believe it's music of the country and western genre," said Lewis.
"Well, save my virgin ears," she said covering them with her hands.
"You don't like this music?" I asked.
"Music? Is that what you call it?" she said.
"I don't mind it myself," I said.
"Look, a table just opened up. Let's grab it," said Lewis.
The three of us walked over to the empty table and sat down.
"Remind me again what I'm doing here?" said Carol. "Oh, right, I really want a beer."
"And to get us something to eat," I said.
"Can we make it quick? This place gives me the creeps," she said.
"You mean you don't want to experience the culture of rural Georgia?" Lewis