The Last Cruiser
The arms of the avenue opened wide, beckoning all to join the endless parade of shiny machines. The abundance of light that created high noon under a midnight sky — the gleam from headlights, taillights, and street lamps, the glow from traffic signals, storefronts, and neon signs — reflected in all directions while screams of joy composed a soundtrack only the young could understand. On this crowded grid, automobiles of every size and shape moved in kinetic fashion amid a churning kaleidoscope of color, action, and noise. Free to move back and forth over and over again, the participants and their machines were never truly free. But they did not choose to move beyond this man-made avenue. For if they did, they would cease to be part of the only world that mattered.
Traveling through this ordered chaos as they had countless times before, Darrin and Jason carried on with their usual sense of purpose.
“There they are, let’s get ‘um!” shouted Darrin from behind the wheel of his Trans-Am.
But Jason had already spotted the two heads of hair that spilled from the yellow VW convertible Darrin was nodding at. This was one of the things that made cruising the strip successful: The two of them thought alike. Sitting up straight in his seat, Jason pushed the wind back out of his long blond hair with one hand. “Pull up next to them at the light.”
Darrin moved his car skillfully across two lanes of traffic and around the several cars that separated them from the front of the pack. Sneaking back into the center lane, Darrin swallowed the last of his soda, removed the wire-frame glasses that dulled his starry brown eyes, and strategically squeezed his low-slung black machine up next to the little Volkswagen, denying it escape at the red light.
“Hi, how are you?” asked Jason.
The blonde driver reached down and turned up her stereo, never taking her eyes from the front windshield.
“This is one time that talking to strangers is perfectly okay,” he continued. “That’s why we’re all here, right?”
For a moment, Jason couldn’t help but focus on the incredible volume of beautifully permed hair that seemed to obscure the tiny Volkswagen. At first a bit awed, he now fought back a sudden urge to laugh as he could not push from his mind the picture of the disproportionate hair of a Barbie doll flowing out over her pink toy Corvette.
“That’s a nice car. It looks good on you.”
With reluctant intrigue, the girl turned her head slightly. Her eyes slowly traced the smooth, sleek lines of the Trans-Am from front to rear and then back to Jason. “Thanks . . . I think. Your car is cool, too. I’ve always liked cars with T-tops.”
“We’ll have to give you a ride sometime. Why don’t the two of you meet us somewhere later and we’ll talk for a while.”
“I don’t know,” she said, looking straight ahead again. “We’re supposed to meet some friends at . . . .”
“You probably hear this all the time,” interrupted Jason, “but you are . . . absolutely beautiful.”
Caught off guard for an instant, her disdainful smirk vanished instantly as if initially held in place against her will and now mercifully released. While revealing her mature beauty, her smile also betrayed a pubescent girlishness.
Turning suddenly to her brown haired passenger who, until now, had not uttered a word, she quickly completed a discussion that consisted of muffled voices, bobbing heads, and indecipherable hand gestures.
“Okay, we’ll meet you at the lake at one o’clock. By the old playground?”
“Sounds good. See you there.”
Jason waved at the girls as the green light released three lanes of interlocking automobiles several rows deep into the intersection. Watching the infinite sea of paired red taillights swallow up the lights of the Volkswagen racing out in front of them, Jason realized, without concern, that he had not exchanged names with the girls.
“I still can’t believe girls really go for all that crap,” said Darrin, with a touch of honest bewilderment.
Jason was surprised to hear Darrin reveal this; the same thought had been on his own mind for a while now as well. But he knew what Darrin really meant. Not long ago, he too had reveled in the variety of responses their creativity so easily produced. He thought of the countless girls who treated them like genuine rock stars when they found out he and Darrin were in a band. And the girl who, assuming he was a member of a wealthy family because he attended UCLA, followed them around half the night trying to prevent him from talking to other girls. And the girl who made him a hero when she sent roses to his workplace. All he did was say “I love you” the first time he saw her.
These were great memories but, unlike Darrin, Jason was also occasionally angry at himself for valuing them so much. He was never any of these things. Not a musician. Not a California college student. Not immediately in love with a strange but beautiful girl. If this kind of conversation attracted girls, what did it really say about those girls? And what did say about him?
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” said Jason. But don’t you ever feel ridiculous, unnatural, using the same approach over and over? Sometimes . . . like just now with the girls in the Bug . . . I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
“Hey, I don’t mess with something that works,” said Darrin, waving the night’s take of phone numbers at Jason.
“You and your phone numbers.” Jason slunched back in his seat and shook his head in frustration as he tried to locate the stars in the clear night sky. Those phone numbers represented girls — real people. He knew they were out there somewhere, but they seemed so far away. “What good are all those numbers if we never call any of them?”
“Listen, we’ve always said that there’s an endless supply of girls out there. When we meet the right ones, we’ll call ‘um. Until then, go with it. It’s just a game.”
Darrin moved instinctively into the inside lane and began to slow for the break in the median marked by the red NO TURNS sign. Lifting his eyes to the rear-view mirror one last time, he quickly made a hard left completing the U-turn that readied them for their return trip up the strip. The change in direction released them from the heavy August heat and sent the sweet smell of a rare evening breeze rushing over them.
Jason stared into the endless parade of brightly lit storefronts, fast-food restaurants, and auto dealerships that rushed by along the side of the strip. The fluorescent wall of highly charged color still radiated an almost tangible energy, a power that made anything and everything seem possible here.
For an instant, he felt a tingle surge through him — a terrifically unbearable anxiousness — then it was gone. That was the way he used to feel all the time, when they first started coming here. He could only compare it to summer trips to the amusement park and Christmas Eves as a kid, when anticipation made it impossible to sleep and excitement made him almost sick to his stomach. He loved that feeling and wanted it back.
Suddenly he pushed himself up in his seat and pointed in the direction of the crowded 7-Eleven. “Look, isn’t that Kim and Teresa? Let’s stop.”
“We can’t. We’ve gotta meet the girls in the Mini in about fifteen minutes. We told them last night that we’d meet them at King Soopers at ten o’clock, remember?”
“Oh, right, I forgot. You know, we could ditch those girls.”
“You can’t be serious.” asked Darrin, unbelievably. “Why?”
“We haven’t seen Kim and Teresa all summer. Besides, those Mini girls are clearly not our types. I don’t think we’re missing anything.”
“What about our decision to never stand anyone up? If we don’t show, those girls will think we’re assholes. We’ll never stand a chance with them or any of their friends again.”
“You just said that there are plenty of girls out there. Skipping out on these two this once won’t hurt anything. We’ll talk our way out of it if we see them again.”
Darrin’s jaw tightened as he forced a breath of air out through clenched teeth. “Oh . . . whatever. I need something to drink anyway.”
Without slowing down, he threw the Trans-Am into the next driveway, the sudden jolt dragging the front spoiler across the concrete. Concerned about his car’s safety, Darrin wound his way through the busy parking lot and pulled into an empty space far away from the group of kids gathered in front of the store. On the other side of the lot, the two girls Jason had just spotted sat alone on the hood of their car watching the cars stream by along the strip.
Darrin jerked the key from the ignition and sprang out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Jason tucked in his shirt, carefully aligning the buttons as he watched Darrin propel his lanky frame into the store. Shrugging his shoulders he turned and crossed the parking lot.
“Excuse me!” Jason startled both girls who had not heard him come up from behind.
“Oh!” Teresa clutched her chest for a moment, then smiled with relief when she turned and saw Jason. She slid down off the car’s fender and reached out to give him a hug.
As his cheek brushed against her soft black hair, Jason savored the sweet trace of perfume. “You cut your hair!”
“Yeah,” said Teresa. She pulled lightly at the ends curving gently inward at her shoulder. “I wanted something new and different.”
“It looks great,” he said, even though he always thought it crazy when girls cut off thick long hair that had taken years to grow. “You look great!”
Suddenly self-conscious, she fingered the gold chain on her chest then ran her hand down over her red silk blouse and faded blue jeans. “Gee, thank you.”
“We saw you guys earlier,” said Kim, moving around the front of the car to join Jason and Teresa. “We were gonna stop and say hello, but you were talking to some girls.”
“I guess you guys are still at it, huh?” said Teresa.
“Yeah . . . I guess.” Jason pushed his hands into his pockets while using the toe of his boot to push around a pebble that lay on the ground. He had forgotten how pretty Teresa was. “What are you two doing here? We thought maybe you’d finally put this place behind you.”
“We did,” said Teresa. “But we didn’t have anything better to do tonight. We thought we’d come out and see what was going on here.”
“We were just thinking about leaving,” said Kim. She nodded at the strip. “I can’t believe we used to spend so much time here.”
“Haven’t you met anyone?”
“We’re not trying,” said Kim. “I’ve been going out with someone, so I’m not looking.”
“Well, we did meet some guys,” giggled Teresa, playfully nudging Kim with her shoulder. “Unfortunately, the driver looked like he just got his license yesterday and was out taking his little brothers for a ride. That’s been the highlight of our evening.”
They all smiled. Jason was glad to have a reason to study Teresa’s face. She really did look great. The shorter hair had added a measure of sophistication without making her look older. He wondered why the long, blonde, kinky hair that Kim and everyone else wore had always attracted him so much.
“Where’s Heather? I thought the three of you were inseparable.”
“She met a guy at school last year. I never see her anymore, and she doesn’t call Teresa or me. She basically disappeared on us.”
“Well, remember Michael? We don’t see him either. He didn’t disappear, exactly. He got married. To a girl he met out here last summer.”
“You’re kidding?” Kim folded her arms and leaned back against her car. “He’s probably the only one who ever met anyone worthwhile out here.”
“It’s too bad the two of them didn’t marry each other,” added Teresa. “Maybe we’d see them every now and then.”
“Are you ready to go?” The familiar voice sliced through the laughter and brought their conversation to a halt. Darrin appeared out of nowhere, his bottle of diet Dr. Pepper swinging from his fingertips. “We better get back out there.”
“Gee, Darrin, aren’t you even gonna say hello?” Teresa put one hand on her hip and gazed at him with mock hurt and disappointment. “Can’t you spare us even a couple of minutes? You can’t be in that big of a hurry.”
“Hey, we’ve got women to meet and places to be.”
Jason studied Teresa’s face with anticipation. He smiled when suddenly she stuck her tongue out at Darrin and laughed.
“What took you so long in there?” asked Jason.
“Oh, the guy inside was telling me that the cops might try to shut down this place. I doubt they’ll ever really do it, though.”
“I don’t know,” said Kim. “They’ve been talking about it for a long time. They’re gonna shut it down someday.”
Darrin twisted on the already tight bottle cap until his white knuckles slipped around it. “Let’s go Jason. It’s peak hour, the best time of the night.”
“It was good to see you girls.” Jason pulled his hands from his pockets, tugged up at his Levis, and turned a shoulder to Darrin. “If you decide to hang around for a while, we’ll be at the lake at about one o’clock.”
“No, I think we’re probably gonna take off right now,” said Kim.
With a swallow, Jason fought back a nearly forgotten feeling of nervousness — a nervousness that stirred in his stomach and began to swell. “Can I get your number, Teresa? Maybe we could get together and go do something sometime.”
“You have it. I gave it to you once.”
“I’m not so sure I know where it is.”
“Here, wait.” Teresa reached down into the car and pulled a piece of paper and a pen from her purse. She wrote quickly, tore the paper in half, then held the pen and piece of deposit slip out to Jason. “Give me yours.”
Jason hesitated for a moment. Reluctantly, he took the pen and paper and forced down his name and number.
“I put both my home and work numbers on there,” said Teresa, handing him her paper with one hand and taking his with the other. “Do your best to hang on to it, okay?”
“Come on, Jason!”
Stuffing the paper into his pocket, Jason started back across the parking lot after Darrin. “I’ll talk to you soon, Teresa. Goodbye, Kim.”
Darrin and Jason moved back out onto the strip, their exit from the parking lot much smoother than their entry earlier.
“What was that all about back there?”
“We were just talking about Michael and Heather and everything.”
“No, I mean with you and Teresa.”
“I wanted to exchange phone numbers with her in case I don’t see her again.”
“I can’t believe you gave her your number. We never do that! Now she’s gonna be pestering you all the time.”
“I don’t think Teresa is like that.”
“And why did you ask them to meet us at the lake? You know damn well those other girls are gonna be there.”
“They didn’t have anything to do. I felt like I should offer.”
“Great. First you talk me into ditching those girls, then you try to sabotage our meetups, now you’re giving out your phone number. What the hell is going on?”
Ignoring Darrin, Jason lost himself in the sparkling colors spinning from the chrome wheel of the fire red Camaro next to him. The rules he and Darrin had established had slowly turned something fun into a strict routine, a job. He didn’t want to follow guidelines any longer. He wanted to enjoy himself again. But was that still possible here?
“So what did they have to say anyway?”
“What?”
“Kim and Teresa. Did they say anything interesting?”
“No, not really. Just that Heather met some guy at school and is now MIA. The three of them don’t hang out anymore.”
“Sounds like another Michael deal.”
“Yeah, I thought so too.”
“The only difference is that girls like Heather need someone to hang on to. They’re lost if they don’t always have a boyfriend. Now Michael, he could have had anyone he wanted, the girls all loved him. It’s hard to believe that he’d throw all that away.”
“But we are here to meet girls, correct? Michael met one and . . . .”
“Meet ‘um, not marry them!” interrupted Darrin. “We’re young. There’s all sorts of fun out there just waiting for us. We were a team and . . . Michael really screwed us over.”
Since the wedding six months ago, Jason had begun to increasingly resent Michael’s good fortune. Michael had, in the nick of time it seemed, escaped this constant search for fun and excitement that was beginning to grow tiresome. Michael always had everything going his way. He had his time on the strip and lived a thousand adventures there; now he was married and off discovering other adventures in a new world. Maybe he had just gotten lucky. But who would ever know? It didn’t matter now, anyway. Michael had someone. And he didn’t. Jason would never confess these feelings to Darrin, though. This was just what Darrin wanted to hear, that he too was mad at Michael, but he wasn’t about to give it to him.
“In a way, maybe I’m a bit angry too. But we might do the same thing in the same situation.”
“Come on, Jason! You know we wouldn’t. We’ve talked about this before. It wouldn’t be fair to the other guy. You don’t run out on your friends.”
“Wait a minute. You’re telling me that if you actually met the perfect girl, you’d let her get away just to stay behind and cruise with me every weekend?”
“I don’t let myself get close enough to anyone to find out if she’s perfect or not. That’s exactly what got Michael into trouble. I won’t put myself in a position like that, one where I’m forced to make choices. Are you on Michael’s side now or what?”
“I’m not taking anyone’s side. But I don’t agree that going out with a girl you really like equates to running out on your friends. You act like it’s impossible to have a girlfriend and friends at the same time.”
“It’s not impossible, but it doesn’t make sense. Michael’s a perfect example. He has a wife now. Why would he want to come here with us?”
I’m sure he doesn’t want to, thought Jason to himself. Cruising was probably the last thing on Michael’s mind, the last place a married man would want to be. He was certain that even if Michael had not married, he wouldn’t be here now. Michael would have surely moved on to new and better things.
“And why would we want him here,” continued Darrin, “if he’s not interested in meeting girls?”
“There are other things that friends can do together besides cruise and meet girls.”
“Like what?” challenged Darrin.
The pack of cars they were the center of slowed to a stop at the traffic light. The heat created by the mass of closely sandwiched machines rolled upward and became entangled with the smell of evening and the pungent odor of exhaust. Mixed with the warmth of the daylight hours now being released from the sticky asphalt, the hot summer night threatened suffocation.
“I don’t know,” said Jason. He looked away from Darrin, as if searching for answers. “If you and I had girlfriends, the six of us could still do things together. Maybe dinners, movies, car shows, things like that.”
“You’ve got to be joking! Are you really willing to trade all of this for that and miss out on everything here? I’m not.”
“Miss out!” Jason straightened up instantly, his tense, coiled body turning toward Darrin. “We’ve missed out on hundreds of things by being here! We were so sure that we were going to miss out on something if we weren’t here every Friday and Saturday night. By not doing other things on the weekends, we’ve essentially thrown away all the girls we worked so hard to meet. We’ll never see most of those girls again.” Jason thrust a pointed index finger at Darrin. “That’s what doesn’t made sense!”
“If you had wanted to go out with any of those girls bad enough, you would have!” shot back Darrin. “You never had a problem with the way we did things. You wanted to be here. No one forced you.”
For a moment, their voices rose above the revving engines, traffic rumble, and music that blared from a hundred different sources. Several heads leaned from the cars that surrounded them and turned to watch the two friends carry on their dispute.
“That’s true,” said Jason, falling back into his seat as the Trans-Am gained momentum through the intersection. “But now I’m starting to regret all those wasted opportunities.”
“But we’ve met hundreds of girls!”
“Yeah, we have. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing.”
“Man, you’ve got it made. Do you know how many guys would love to be in your shoes? What more do you want?”
“Did you see Teresa back there, Darrin? She’s really good-looking. But more importantly, she’s a nice person. I’d be foolish not to ask her out. I refuse to keep making the same mistakes over and over.”
“So, all of a sudden, cruising has been one big mistake? All this time, you’ve never had any fun out here?”
“It was fun for a long time. It’s still fun. But we’ve accomplished everything we can here.”
Jason examined the crowded Performance Auto Parts parking lot where he, Darrin, and Michael used to regularly hangout. It was hard to believe that the three of them were once satisfied with meeting as many girls as possible and collecting their phone numbers. It was what they waited for — lived for — all week. They met so many girls this way that by the end of each night it was impossible to remember any as distinct personalities. Each evening became one long, blurry, event-filled ego boost documented by a pocket full of numbers. It was exciting. But because it was exciting, they found it easy to put aside these “trophies” and do it all over again night after night, weekend after weekend.
Jason soaked up and breathed in the carnival-like atmosphere around him that, somehow, had always remained the same. But something was different now, something inside him had changed.
“It’s great for the self-esteem when girls like you,” Jason continued, “and it’s a challenge to pry phone numbers out of them. But honestly, Darrin, I think we could make any girl adore us. You have the perfect car, and we know exactly what and what not to say. That’s all it takes with these girls.” He nodded at no one in particular. “It doesn’t mean anything anymore.”
“What do you mean, ‘these girls’?”
“Darrin, they’re getting younger all the time. We both know it. Kim and Teresa even mentioned how young everyone looks. Why do you think everyone we used to know is gone?”
“Things have changed . . . a little. But there’s still fun to be had out here. Not every night is going to be fantastic, or top the one before it.”
“Just meeting girls, and maybe hanging around with a few of them for a couple of hours each night but never going out with them or pursuing any of them is still fun for you?”
“Yes it is. It’s the same thing we’ve been doing every summer.”
How could he make Darrin understand? How long could the two of them stay behind and feed their egos unsophisticated, simple girls while watching friends come and go year after year? While the past was filled with events and memories he wouldn’t trade for anything, Jason thought more and more about all the other lives being lived outside his own. Not everyone depended solely on this place, some didn’t need it at all, and others had no idea it even existed. Michael had willingly stepped into a new life leaving this one behind. Now Heather, too. And there were others out there ready to move on as well. What prevented him from moving on?
“It’s great to be popular,” said Jason. “I love it, too. But sometimes I honestly don’t know why we’re here. It seems like we’re just going through the motions most of the time. Don’t you want more? Something different?”
“Like what?” Darrin shook his head. “We’re not that old, and these girls are not that young. You act like we’re running out of time, and we’re not. Right now, I want to cruise, meet girls, and just have fun.”
“You know if you keep on like this, you just might end up like them.” Jason pointed off to the side of the strip where an endless line of immaculate autos sat closely guarded by their proud and cocky owners. Bathed in the soft yellow of streetlight, shafts of color danced from the polished paint, chrome, and glass of machines that lay like a row of toppled dominoes the length of the newly paved parking lot.
“Who? The old-timers?”
“Yeah. At one time or another, I’m sure they all felt just like you do. They probably thought that they had all the time in the world, that cruising would last forever. They probably kept hanging around, coming back year after year, hoping that one day it would be like it once was. But look at them now, Darrin. Some of those guys could be ten years older than us. Why do you think we make fun of them?”
“We don’t make fun of ‘um.”
“Yes we do. Why do you think we call them old-timers? It’s because they’ve been here forever. Do you ever remember a time when they weren’t here, right there in front of Wheeler’s Hardware?”
“No, but so what? Maybe they’re here to show off their cars and just hangout with friends. What’s wrong with that?”
“Every Friday and Saturday night for ten years? Come on! Those guys are trying to hang on to a past that no longer exists. And they make themselves look ridiculous doing it. They’re nice guys, but they don’t belong here anymore. They don’t race, the cops put and end to that a long time ago. And if they’re here to meet girls, it’s obviously not working. These girls are way too young for them anyway. I’ve even heard girls call them ‘lonely guys’ and ‘losers’. I hope I have more to show for myself than that ten years from now.”
Jason didn’t want to end up like these older cruisers he secretly looked down upon. Hanging around the strip too long, they had become anachronisms, living, breathing remnants from another time who clearly did not belong. Trying to recapture the thrill and excitement of the past had become an obsession that was slowly destroying each of their lives. It was easy to see how a person could fall into this trap. But he was not weak like these guys. He would never remain anywhere he did not belong.
“That would never happen to either of us and you know it,” said Darrin.
“We’re on our way right now. Sacrificing everything to be here all the time is not much different than what they’re doing. Now you’re trying to tell me that these girls are not that young and that we have plenty of time! You better watch yourself real close, buddy.”
“Don’t worry about me,” replied a smug Darrin. “You just take care of yourself.”
Proceeding two blocks further, Darrin reduced his speed and smoothly guided his Trans-Am into his usual station where gasoline was two-cents less per gallon than at other places along the strip.
“I need to fill up before we head out to the lake.”
Sifting through his wallet, Jason found a five-dollar bill and handed it to Darrin. As he climbed from the car, his stomach sank for a moment. He had hoped against logic for the impossible, that tonight’s visit to the lake would never take place.
As Darrin ran the pump up toward the ten-dollar mark, Jason leaned carefully against the waxed and lustrous finish of Darrin’s car. He studied the crowd of kids standing on the corner across the street, the group he and Darrin referred to as the Heavy Metal Rockers. Dressed mostly in black leather, torn and unwashed blue jeans, and tee-shirts that shouted the superiority of their favorite rock ‘n roll bands and guitar heroes, these were the kids who seemed to be taking over the strip. They were not here to cruise, meet people, or show-off their cars; in fact, they seemed to despise and reject the cruising tradition altogether. No, these kids were here to socialize only within their own group, one that seemed to grow larger each weekend. It was not the way they dressed that concerned Jason. It was the attitudes, alcohol, and aggression — the fighting between themselves and others — they brought here. In simple terms, these guys and girls were magnets for trouble, the real reason the police were talking seriously about closing down the strip. Jason hated to get gas at this location. The undercurrent of potential violence that permeated this section of the strip was something he had never quite gotten used to.
“Let’s roll!” said Darrin, slapping the top of his car with the palm of his hand.
Jason eagerly lowered his athletic body back into the passenger seat. He felt his uneasiness disappear gradually as Darrin found a gap in the traffic and moved them once again into the never-ending string of cars that continued to flow up and down the strip.
“It’s after midnight already. We probably have time to go up the strip one more time before we head out to the lake.”
“I was hoping that maybe we could avoid the lake tonight?”
“No way! Do you really think I’m gonna let you talk me out of meeting these girls, too?”
Forced to a stop by another red light, Darrin and Jason sat in silent frustration. Both wanted to keep moving — Darrin, toward the lake; Jason, anywhere but where he was now. As the harsh, piercing voice on the stereo screamed song lyrics at them, Jason successfully overcame the urge to reach out and turn down the volume of Darrin’s music. He instead pushed his head back into the seat as far as possible and found himself staring at the bumper sticker on the rear of the car stopped in front of them. At first he saw only black letters on a bright yellow rectangle, a sticker with a message so commonplace on the strip that he had long ago failed to really notice it. But as its significance became clear to him, a disgust mixed with a touch of guilt and shame crept through him. NO FAT CHICKS. How immature, he thought. He looked over at the carload of girls eating candy and drinking diet pop next to him. Why hurt the feelings of others for no reason? Didn’t people understand that girls don’t like fat guys either? Jason smiled at the two girls, wishing he could somehow prevent them from ever seeing the sticker. But he knew quite well that these girls, and many others like them, had paid much closer attention to stickers like this than he ever had. And that they were hurt by them in ways he would never know.
As the green light finally released the Trans-Am into freedom, Jason took notice of the small car on the other side of the strip that traveled toward them. Recognizing at once the automobile that was honking its horn and blinking its headlights in an effort to attract their attention, Jason calmly nodded his head. “There go your friends,” he said.
Darrin looked over just in time to see two big middle fingers waving at him and Jason and the rest of the world from the windows of the familiar primer-spotted Mini. The girls inside the car completed their assault with a barrage of verbal profanities that made Darrin wince as if physically wounded.
“That’s just great!” said Darrin, smacking the steering wheel with the side of his fist. His angry eyes met and fixed upon the innocent blue of Jason’s. “I told you this would happen.”
Jason was never happy with himself when hurting people’s feelings, especially those of his friends. But he was neither amused nor upset by this incident with the girls in the Mini. He simply did not care that he and Darrin had, for the first time, made enemies on the strip.
As they continued to work their way up the strip for the last time, Jason waited patiently to reach the convenience store where he had found Teresa earlier. He hoped she would be there. It would be nice just to see her again, his one link to something beyond the confines of the strip. But he knew she was no longer there. She had probably left soon after they had said goodbye. Still, Jason was disappointed when he finally located her spot at the 7-Eleven and watched a small group of young girls laughing and carrying-on in Teresa’s place. Nothing stays the same for very long, he thought. Nothing lasts forever.
Darrin and Jason reached the end of the strip where the conspicuously illuminated buildings stopped and the dark scattered structures that dangled at the edge of the avenue began. These buildings, the businesses that closed at night and on the weekends, thinned out and then disappeared altogether as the avenue gradually narrowed into another of the many tree-lined rural roads that provided an easy escape from the chaos of the city. This change in environment was much like the sudden return to black and white Kansas after a romp through the Technicolor land of Oz. It was, however, usually a welcome change — a chance to rest the mind and body and let the events of the evening sink in and become clear.
Jason looked out into the deep corridor formed by the tall elms and cottonwoods that towered above him. With all detail buried in darkness, the trees’ thick, overgrown foliage appeared as dark, heavy clumps of texture that Jason wished he could run his fingers through. Failing to penetrate the blackness that engulfed them, the Trans-Am’s headlights illuminated only the small patch of ground immediately in front of them. Guided by the worn segments of broken yellow line, Darrin and Jason glided along unnoticed through this serene, hidden passageway.
Lying back in his seat, Jason closed his eyes and thought again about not belonging. Not once before tonight had he ever given it more than a passing thought. It had always been easy to identify and berate others who did not belong, but he had never been concerned enough to apply the idea to his own situation. Now, the unfamiliar fear of not belonging to anyone or anything rose up and quickly overwhelmed him. The strip was the only thing he had ever given himself to. If cruising was no longer giving him what he needed, where did that leave him?
Jason snapped his eyes open. Looking up through treetops that would one day touch high above the roadway, he could easily make out the million points of light that shone down upon him from the soft night sky. Removed from the blinding array of light that blighted his senses when on the strip, he now found some sense of reassurance in the stars that sparkled overhead.
“You sure got quiet all of a sudden,” said Darrin, his voice breaking the long silence. “You really don’t want to go to the lake, do you?”
“I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” Jason leaned forward. Resting his elbows on his knees, he placed his head on his hands.
“Don’t die on me now, man, we’re almost there.” Darrin looked into the rear-view mirror, pushed the top of his short brown hair back into place, then glanced down at the green LEDs of the clock. “We might be about fifteen minutes late, but that’s cool. We don’t want these chicks to think that we’re anxious or desperate, right?”
“Speaking of these girls, you and I never did finish that conversation we started earlier, the one about the girls here being too young.”
“Please. Not again, not now.”
“I just wanted to add that even though the girls here are gorgeous, they’re also . . . I don’t want to say stupid . . . well, immature. I don’t connect with most of them anymore. I have absolutely no desire to call half of these girls anyway.”
“But its always been like that. Some are good, some are bad. Our job is to sort through them. You’re not gonna like everyone you meet.”
“Cruising has become predictable. It’s no longer an adventure. Let’s use the blonde in the Volkswagen as an example. She’s a great-looking girl, and it would be fantastic if she turned out to be serious and intelligent. But I can tell you right now that there’s something missing. There’s going to be something wrong with her.”
“Well, if you convince yourself ahead of time that things aren’t gonna work out, they probably won’t.”
“I’m not talking about thinking negatively. You’re missing my point.”
Suddenly, almost too quickly, thought Jason, the narrow lane opened on one side into a large semicircular space that functioned as the lake’s picnic and parking area. In the center of this empty, unpaved clearing, four long uncut timbers lay in a rectangle that formed a barrier around a teeter-totter, jungle gym, and swing, all made of rope and wood.
Darrin took his car from the pavement and traveled noisily over the loose rocks and gravel of the parking lot. As they slowly approached the playground, the yellow Volkswagen gradually emerged from the darkness. Darrin brought the Trans-Am to a stop with his side of the car next to the girls. Turning off the engine, he opened his door and found both girls already standing at his side.
“We were wondering if you were ever gonna get here,” said the blonde girl, as she ran her hand along the smooth swoop of the Trans-Am’s front fender. “This is such a great car. All our friends think their boyfriends have got such hot cars. They’d be so jealous if they saw us riding around in a T/A. This isn’t your dad’s car, is it?”
“His dad’s car?” replied Jason. He slammed his door with unnecessary force, then walked around the rear of the car to join the three of them between the two automobiles. “Darrin works his butt off to keep a car like this on the road.”
“Thanks,” interjected Darrin. He turned and shot Jason a scowl. “Your Bug is pretty nice, too.”
“Oh, it’s okay, I guess,” said the blonde, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s my mom’s. She never uses it. I might like it better if she’d give it to me.”
“So how did your night go? Any stories to tell?”
“It was alright,” said the dejected brown-haired passenger. “We spent most of the night trying to find some good parties. You guys don’t know of any, do you?”
“We’re not party people,” said Jason.
“We should have you guys buy us some beer! You are old enough aren’t you?”
“Yes. But that’s something we have always refused to do.”
“Why?” asked the blonde, coming to the aid of her friend. “You’re not afraid are you?”
“No, I’d like to think that I’m intelligent. Buying alcohol for minors is a serious offense.”
“Give me a break!” she said, rolling her eyes upward. She gathered her long hair from around her neck with both hands and let the thick ponytail fall loosely down her back. “Everyone does it all the time. No one cares, and no one gets caught.”
Sensing trouble, Darrin again made an effort to change the course of the conversation. “Are you about ready to take that ride we promised you?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
“I wanna come along, too,” chimed in the brown-haired girl.
“We’re all gonna go. Come on.”
“Wait! I can’t leave my car out here in the middle of nowhere. My parents would kill me if something happened to it.”
“You all go ahead,” said Jason. “I’ll stay here with the car.”
“Are you sure, Jason?” asked an astonished Darrin, now truly concerned about his friend.
“Yes. You guys won’t be gone long. Just leave the keys in case something would happen.”
The blonde hesitated for a moment then reluctantly, with a look of suspicion, tossed Jason her key chain made bulky by the black and orange plastic Garfield Cat. He watched as the two girls rushed to the passenger door, the blonde arriving first and encouraging her disappointed friend into the backseat. He could see Darrin, the center of attention, enjoying himself immensely. He envied them all a bit as the three smiling, laughing faces left the dirt parking lot. Hearing Darrin chirp the Trans-Am’s tires against the dry asphalt with each shift, Jason couldn’t help but smile. He knew, as the dull rumble of exhaust faded into the distance, that Darrin had already succeeded at impressing the girls.
Stepping over the log that lay in front of the Volkswagen, Jason walked through the playground sand and sat down on the hard, flat seat of the swing. Surrounded by a comforting blanket of darkness, he let the night rock him back and forth.
Just as he had tried to tell Darrin earlier, things had not worked out. There was indeed something wrong with these girls — they were kids, and he was now sure he was not. He felt a certain satisfaction in knowing that he had been right, yet he knew that Darrin had been right as well. He had made up his mind about the girls beforehand. He had not even tried to get along with them. In fact, he may have been guilty of purposely trying to create conflict. Did he want the girls to dislike him as much as he chose to dislike them?
He looked at the Volkswagen that sat quietly in front of him. He felt like a stranger here. The people on the strip were different now. These new cruisers were not only getting younger all the time, as he had tried so hard to make clear to Darrin earlier, but they were also less directed and serious, more immature and superficial. They were cruisers like the Volkswagen girls who never thought beyond the present. Yes, if things were as they once used to be, if these young and mindless girls had not inundated the strip, he could stay and continue to enjoy what had always been precious to him.
Feeling cheated, as though something had been inexplicably torn from him, Jason looked upward. The full moon that had been making its way across the summer sky was now clearly visible between the dark outline of treetops that bordered his view. Floating directly above him, the brilliant midnight sun seemed to have stopped momentarily in order to bathe Jason’s surroundings in a soft, cool glow that colored everything around him with translucent tints of purple and blue.
No, he thought, as he pushed and pulled his boot heel through the deep sand, this was not true. He was only denying the obvious by making excuses and lying to himself. Hadn’t he done enough of that already? It was only he who was now different. Only he had changed. The battle cry that he and Darrin had so often used in jest really was true. An endless supply of girls really did exist out there — girls who would always remain twenty years old, drive yellow Volkswagens, and agree to meet guys they did not really care about save for the fact that they had a nice car. It was he who had changed by simply getting older and growing up. He couldn’t go back and do it all over again. He was not sure that he would go back even if he could. He valued the time he had spent on the strip. It would be a substantial part of him forever. But it was all a part of the past.
Those experiences of the past, along with fun and excitement, had also brought him an inordinate number of opportunities to meet girls. And it was difficult to admit, even to himself, that while he had indeed met many girls, he had failed to take advantage of these many opportunities. He thought of the girl who had once taken him aside and asked him if he believed in dating. All of her friends were attracted to him, she said, but he never asked any of them out. Why? These were the chances he had let slip away, the signals he chose not to recognize in order to cruise for the sake of his ego.
It suddenly occurred to him that Michael deserved some credit. He had recognized this place for what it was, made the most of it, and knew when to leave. Michael had seen something he had not. But Michael was not the lone exception. Countless others, including Heather, Kim, and Teresa, had also known when to leave, when to move on. Why had he failed to see and feel what they had? Why was he so different? Perhaps he was not different at all. Darrin was still here. He too had failed to recognize something that seemed quite clear to others. And what about the older cruisers, the old-timers? Although they exemplified the negative consequences of ignoring life’s signals, they also proved that knowing when to leave, when to move on, is different and difficult for everyone. If cruising could mean so much to him — at one time it was everything — it could mean just the same to others. Darrin obviously loved cruising as much as ever. He could now accept that Darrin still wanted to be here and would leave and move on only when he was ready.
But was all this talk of leaving and moving on really the melodramatic end that he was trying to make it? As trite as it might sound, leaving the cruising strip behind was merely a new beginning. He thought of all the people he had met here, male and female. These people were also in the process of changing and moving on to new things, just like he was. Others, like his mom and dad, had been in this situation many times before. Both of them had given up all sorts of special things from childhood, adolescence, and even adulthood. They had survived change and flourished. Change is not something only for the young, he thought. Change is a lifelong process that continues to shape and mold everyone. It is not always easy and is often unpleasant; nonetheless, change is an inescapable part of life. But change is also an essential part of life, a transformation that makes everything else in life possible. The playground around him now was once the only world that mattered to the four-year-old version of himself, but a world eventually left behind for new worlds that continually took its place. His mom and dad were perfect examples of this. They had met each other while cruising on the strip, dated, and eventually married. They had used the strip to find someone, each other, yet if they had been unable or unwilling to change, to leave the strip for a higher purpose, their life together and the creation of their family would never have happened.
It all seemed so simple, he thought. But if change was natural, normal, and good, why did a life without cruising seem almost unimaginable? As cruising had satisfied him less and less, his curiosity about the other things in life that kept people happy, content, and busy had grown more and more intense. He had not recognized it until this very moment, but those who were the happiest in life were those with a partner. And those with a partner were those who were best able to adapt to change and move on to new and different things. Michael, Heather, and his mom and dad had all discovered new beginnings and new paths with partners in relationships — the very things the opportunities on the strip had made available to him over and over again, the very things he had worked so hard to sidestep time and time again. He was now aware that the real and honest relationship he had always avoided was what he now needed most of all.
Rising from his low but comfortable seat, Jason reached into his pant’s pocket with two fingers and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper Teresa had given him earlier. He walked back to the car he was babysitting, straddled the big timber that lay near, and sat at the edge of the playground making sure that the phone numbers were really there. He had always been attracted to Teresa, but had never done anything about it because he could never tear himself away from the strip for even one night. It seemed impossible, but he had known Teresa for three years. He was now painfully aware that the endless supply of time he had so often squandered and abused did not really exist for him or anyone else. Time was scarce. This was one opportunity he could not and would not let escape him. But he had to remember that it was only an opportunity. No matter what might happen with Teresa, she could not be expected to be an answer to his questions or a solution to his struggles. But she could be the light that might point him in a new direction and perhaps provide him with a new beginning.
Hearing the crunching sound of Darrin’s automobile re-entering the parking lot over dirt and gravel brought Jason back to attention. Vowing to call Teresa tomorrow or the next day, he tucked the paper safely back into his pocket and waited. As the lights of the Trans-Am divided the darkness and swung toward him, Jason saw the slanted shards of rain glittering like broken glass in front of the glaring white headlamps. His shirt and pants were damp, and the moon he looked up to find had been replaced by clouds of dark grey. He had not noticed the rain — the cruiser’s nightmare — that must have been falling on him for some time. He knew that from this moment onward his life would never be the same. But he also knew he could go on. He was about to turn his youth into a memory.
The Last Cruiser. Copyright 1994, 2023 Ron Baxendale II
