Made in China Chapter 25

            Charlie Lust was looking over Ruby when I arrived at the enormous glass building that was Lucky Cat Cigarette Casino. He looked at her reverently like an artist pouring over a painting that is still wet. He was like Michelangelo looking at The Statue of David, his hands still dirty from the carving. There was a long line of miserable tourists still waiting to get their pictures taken in her. If there is one thing a person should avoid being at all costs it is a tourist. I tried to move to the front of the line to claim her but “security” said I would have to wait my turn like everyone else. I stood there with a figurative thumb up my ass and thought of Mary Antoinette and a long line of horny Frenchmen. Although I was in my racing uniform with my leather jacket and Ray Bans, no one suspected that I was the real Blatz Bowie. There was at least eight of me standing around―impersonators. Why would I be waiting in line? Logic.

            “You’ve had long enough!” a security guard said bitterly to Charlie. “Get moving!” Charlie was defiant and stayed where he was. I could clearly see the woman behind his masculine charade but I was distracted and irritated by the people in front of me. They were loud and stunk like poker chips and a seafood buffet. I realized that not having the keys would pose as a problem. The process of getting them would assuredly take a long time. Or the Secret Police (who were a terrible secret and I am not rightly sure why they were prescribed such an ill-suited title), would arrest me again on some bogus charge for the sake not to let Ruby go to its rightful owner. I could see security guards ahead of me looking in my direction. While I waited several savvy street vendors asked if I wanted to buy a Blatz Bowie t-shirt or a Go Blow head.

            No, thanks.

            I heard people talking about my trial and saying that I was acquitted by God being that Tattoo, who had never been shot below fifty yards, only hit thirty two. They didn't know that Tattoo purposefully lost and took the kick in the balls for the sake of humanity.  That was beyond their comprehension. They figured it was divine intervention. Some talked about me claiming Ruby and continuing the race but it being impossible for me to win being that five professional European drivers were well ahead of me and would claim Zula at any moment. The finish line was an address. It was Zula’s Malibu house which overlooked the angry Pacific Ocean that spewed white foam like a rabid dog.

            Charlie saw me as I approached for my turn in Ruby. He was standing gazing into the engine with one small delicate hand on the left fender and the other on the hood despite security saying repeatedly, “Don’t touch the car, asshole!” He stopped looking at the car and walked around to get a closer look at me. I sat in the driver’s seat with my hand clutching the wheel. I smiled like an idiot so security didn’t think anything more of me. “Blatz?” Charlie called accidentally in Chloe’s voice.

            I smiled but didn’t reply at first. I didn’t know what to say. My stomach ached and I was lightheaded from a sudden rush of blood to the head. I felt the indescribable feeling that writers have done their best to describe in great romantic books. They were woefully inadequate. I couldn’t call him Charlie. I knew what fantastic creature was behind the grease, under that trucker’s hat and those grease-stained overalls. “Hello,” my voice cracked. I tried to excuse it with a cough.

            She smiled. I can no longer think of her as Charlie. So much was spoken in our simple exchanged expression. There was an intuition. I told her I loved her telepathically. I didn’t mean to; it slipped out. She said “ditto” using her lips prettily. I learned more about myself in that moment than I ever knew about anything. Six seconds.

            “Catch,” she cried. From her pocket she pulled out a set of keys on a ring and flung it to me as she put down the hood. It slammed shut. Security began to swarm like bees. I reached out and caught the keys with my left hand, gave them to my right, started Ruby up, and shifted her into gear. I forgot I had given Charlie a spare set of keys in case something happened to me while we worked on her. Security grabbed Charlie, but I spun the wheels and fishtailed around knocking them over like bowling pins, save for one, a spare Chloe. She dove in the passenger window and I revved Ruby to the delight of the tourists and peeled out, smoke billowing and wheels squealing like scalded babies. I didn’t know if I could still win the race, if there was any chance but I wasn’t about to lose by giving up. I reminded myself how important it once was to me. A chubby little boy cried because he was next in line to have his picture taken.

            Ho hum.

            We crashed through the giant glass doors of the lobby and bounced over the curb. I made a hairpin turn to get on the road and to avoid a flock of nuns. I honked the horn and yelled out the driver’s side window for people who stood there gawking to move. I ran over a vendor cart and Go Blow heads went everywhere. I ran over at least three prostitutes but all three were robots so it didn’t matter at all to me. We got to the Vegas strip and I floored her. All my weapons besides my two Colt Dragoons were gone but I had Ruby back, but more importantly, I had Chloe.