Chapter 33
Meanwhile in Mamou . . .
Rocky and Skip finished the ride to Fred’s about four in the afternoon, having driven through rain most the day. The last stretch was a 20-mile two-lane straight road through a flat land with no scenery. Tante Sue was bartending when they arrived; the place near empty. “Tante Sue” is how she introduced herself. (“Tante” is Cajun for “Auntie.”) She and Fred owned the place. But now it’s just her after Fred died.
“What can I get ya’ll? Heard you wuz comin’. Where’s the rest of the gang? Whaddaya call yourselves, The Rompers?”
Tante Sue didn’t stop. “Met three of ya’s already. Great guy, that big fella Sam, but they all skadaddled quick. Well, you see, your lady friend, Sunshine I think she calls ‘erself – well, Cajun wimmen don’t take kindly to makin’ out with their husbands. That she was a-doin’. We got a wife on the warpath. Came in just as theys took off. We go for dancin’ here, not breakin’ up marriages. Poor fella was half in his cups, gettin’ takin’ advantage of. Least that’s what I tol’ his wife.”
“Aw geez, Tante Sue,” Rocky said, “she’s not really with us. Actually we’re here to try to rescue Big Sam from her. Can you get us a couple of those Double Shotgun IPAs I’ve been hearing about?”
“No more dancing until next Saturday?” Skip asked, admiring all the framed stories on the walls, including one from the NY Times Travel Section about ‘Tante Sue from Mamou.’ “We heard Saturday morning you’re the best dance hall anywhere – and what a great sign you got hanging by the bathrooms ‘If You’re Not Having Fun at Fred’s, You’re Doing It Wrong!’.”
“Dunno ‘bout nowhere but here, but yessir, it’s a local tradition to party Saturday mornings, then long afternoon naps.
“Folks around here mostly for Trump running again?” Skip asked.
Rocky tried cutting off the conversation, “Thanks Tante, we’ve got to be pushing off.”
“Not Trump so much, maybe that Florida guy, mostly we only vote for Mayor around here. Tell that Sam fella he’s welcome back – might be better if he leaves the dame home,” Tante Sue bid us adieu. “Leissez les bons temps roullez.”
First call was to Huck: “We heard about the fast exit – Patty told us Sunshine and Peaches would be nothing but trouble. Maybe you should just cut away and we’ll pick you up somewhere. Everything OK? Where are you?”
“Oh man, they liked us at that bar,” Huck explained. “All the guys were dancing with Sunshine. Big Sam was helping tend bar by the time we left. He and Tante Sue were getting along great. Peaches was holding court about how great RV’g is, and then one of the guys he’s talking with says, ‘You guys better scamper. Heard there’s a wife comin’ lookin’ for her hubby, but first to whack your gal.’ We were quick outta there. We’re almost to Lafayette – another music town. Peaches says there’s a Walmart. Come in on 182 and you’ll find us. I’m going to crash for awhile.”
Second call was returning a missed call from the Land Yacht. Sally answered, “What did I tell you, Skip! It was a mistake not to recruit a mechanic for this trip – the Yacht’s broken down. We’re stuck on U.S. 167 just south of some small town called Ruston and it’s friggin’ raining outside. How much did you budget for keeping this old boat afloat? We’ve got a tow coming, we think.”
“Hey, we’re only an hour away – we’ll start heading back towards you,” Skip said. “Keep us posted.” Then, turning to Rocky, “Call Huck and tell him we’re not coming Lafayette way. From what I could hear in the background, nobody on the Yacht is going to want to party in Lafayette, or anywhere else. We need to get back up to I-20 and see what’s next.”
An hour later we spy the Land Yacht up ahead and a tow truck with its lights flashing – one of those big ones made to tow a semi-trailer. Turns out the tow driver was a mechanic with a good sense of humor. After making fun of our bumper stickers, he says, “Whad you expect with a battery-operated RV?” Checking things over, he discovered water in the spark plugs. “Whad ya try to do – make it a pontoon boat?” he says laughing, drying off the spark plugs. “Next time, slow down for dem deep puddles.”
A half hour later, we’re all having coffee at some truck stop on I-20 figuring out what to do next. Patty suggested, “Tell Huck to meet us in Daphne, with or without Big Sam. But maybe use this as an excuse to ditch Peaches and Sunshine.” Sally agreed, saying she was also in to ditching Big Sam as soon as possible, adding “What’s next. Daphne, Alabama? Who is it we want to visit there anyhow? Let’s get to where it’s sunnier as fast as we can.”
Leaving the truck stop, Jack took back his Land Rover, this time with Max, not Sally, as his navigator. Skip was back driving the Land Yacht. We spent all night driving on I-20 trying to get some sleep. Patty convinced us that visiting Bonnie in Daphne was important to her (privately telling Sally, “even essential.”) Sally and Patty kept up a private conversation, Patty asking Sally, “What’s the big hurry?”
Patty was intrigued by Sally’s answer: “I don’t know what to do. We’re almost to the east coast. We’re close to finishing the list of visits. What am I going to do? Bring Jack home with me? Right! I just can’t be sure if I’m in love with Jack, or in love with just being loved again. You know what he calls me, doncha? ‘Sally B’ – B for beautiful.”