Goodbye Mr. Now and Forever

By T. L. Willis

Bob Bickerman, a Wall Street executive, leaves his mansion on a fine summer morning to make a final retirement appearance at his office in manhattan. His simple plan is to leave New York forever as a lone traveler in his new motor coach. When friends enter the picture, everything in Bob's life and their lives is turned upside down.
New York City seems to reach out its hidden hand to hold them back. The dirt roads beyond the city reveal magical secrets from the past, that no mortal being is capable of understanding, unless they swallow a coin from a wishing well, to see everything in heaven and hell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T. L. Willis
• Release date: Jun 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463762417

T. L. Willis

The main thing I would like to do here is thank all those who have went on the journey with Bob, Tom , Becky and Mary, the main characters in the novel. My home is a small cabin five miles back in the woods and life is simple, but I am adventurous like the characters in the book. Tomorrow may be the day I pack my old 1971 motor home and head out for that magical place Covendar. I will park my RV on the ocean cliff and watch thousands of gulls feasting on crabs as I sit comfortably, next to the ancient monastery in that land of mystery. Covendar is real and out there somewhere! Only the true wanderer will find it. Bob, Tom, Becky and Mary must certainly be there waiting for the writer that gave them the will to struggle through life to complete their journey.

Book preview

Goodbye Mr.

Now and Forever

Copyright © 2020 by T. L. Willis

All rights reserved

ISBN 9781080460755

Book design by Joseph B. Bergstrom

Author’s Note

The novel was written without an outline to keep the flow of events more natural. I never knew what would happen next to the main characters. This made the experience of creating each new sentence and paragraph magical. Sitting in my cabin, five miles back in the woods, in the silence of night, contributed to letting me hear my thoughts more clearly. The coyotes howling a few hundred yards away provided deeper inspiration.

We all experience ups and downs during each new day. Gerald and Tilda would be the first to tell you this as they sit in the remote tower room of their mansion with their loyal raven Dumkin. The bird’s claws are firmly attached to his perch with his red eyes staring down at his human companions. If the bird could talk, he would tell you not to walk too close to scarecrows.

The world is waiting for all of us if we care to wander. Venture out young man to claim the flowing rhythm of your manhood. The forests, country roads and highways may hold the adventure you’ve been looking for. When the nest becomes hard and dry, the young bird raises its wings and rises to the clouds.

Goodbye Mr. Now & Forever! A merciful king you shall be.

Goodbye Mr. Now and Forever

By T. L. Willis

Book One

Slow Running

Bob Bickerman, the sixty-six year old Wall Street executive did none of the usual groaning when the alarm clock rang at 8am. He sat up in bed, pulled the plug from the wall and dropped the clock into the wooden trash container beside the night stand. The house was colder than usual. Bob didn’t care that his staff of butler, two maids and a cook were gone forever. He had fired them all the previous week.

There was no pleasant aroma of bacon, eggs and buttered toast coming from the kitchen. No longer was there any need to have a staff of servants wandering about in the mansion. This was the retirement day he had looked forward to for years. His plan for the future was to leave New York City forever. The fifty stock brokers at the firm Blidgen and Fotts would not see him enter his office penthouse at exactly 10am on this Friday morning. He had no intention of arriving on time his last day after twenty-five years service with the firm. The drudgery was over!

Bob had gradually worked his way up the corporate ladder of the Wall Street firm to managing director, earning more money than he ever imagined. The problem with Bob’s important position in the company was working with employees who had the attitudes of idiots. Stressful days at the job never allowed him to fully appreciate his cars, family or luxurious home. The fact was that he no longer had a family. His children Sandra and Collin had been sent away to college at his wife’s request, dropping out without graduating to never return home.

Bob’s wife had deserted him two weeks before this special day. She was kind enough to leave a note on the dresser one afternoon while Bob was at the office. The note was brief and to the point . . .

‘I don’t want to live with you anymore. I’m going to the bank today to withdraw enough funds to live comfortably.’

Bob soon discovered she had withdrawn one million dollars from their account at the bank. He was thrilled at receiving the good news and would gladly have written a check for twice that amount to get rid of the nagging witch of a woman, who seemed to take on a new personality every time she put on her morning makeup. On a Sunday morning she would go to church with a smile on her face, and during their evening meal she might throw a wine bottle at him to rid herself of the torment circling about in her head. The moods of her different personalities could last an hour or several days.

The odd thing about the woman’s sudden mood changes was that she always seemed to find her fits of anger while doing simple things like putting on her nylons. Freud or Carl Yung would have turned flips to get this woman into their office for psychoanalysis. Bob turned joyous flips of his own when he read her note saying she was gone forever.

On this particular Friday morning Bob was thrilled with the whole show. The day’s schedule would not be complicated. He would drive to the office to collect his gold Mickey Mouse retirement watch or whatever. He had no regrets about dismissing the servants the previous Friday evening after returning home from work. The following Saturday morning with the house quiet and empty, Bob had begun packing his motor home for a trip to parts unknown. Today he would leave New York City with no obligations to any living soul other than himself.

Crawling from under the bed covers; he opened the doors of the master bedroom closet, slipping a black robe over his pajamas. As he paced down the long hallway toward the kitchen for a first cup of coffee a rare smile appeared on his face. Bob loved his coffee and cigarettes. He was pleased with himself for never paying attention to the goody good types, who felt it was their sacred duty to save the world and everyone in it. Too much coffee and too many cigarettes, as far as he was concerned were his only vices.

Servants had surrounded him for the past ten years in this now quiet and empty home his wife had insisted on purchasing. It had always been easier for Bob to agree with his wife’s needs and write a check to pacify her greed rather than argue about trivial matters of no importance. Otherwise he figured she might take on a new more dangerous personality, to slit his throat with a straight razor as he slept.

Sitting at the long mahogany kitchen table enjoying a hand rolled smoke, he grinned as he dropped the butt, snubbing it out on a kitchen tile. Balancing a cup of coffee in his hand with precision, he returned to the master bedroom down the hallway. It was 9am, and the alarm clock resting at the bottom of the wooden trash container beside his bed would never wake him again. He removed his robe and ran a hot bath, climbing into the tub, satisfied the dull miserable marriage was gone forever. Bob’s life was now his own for the first time in a quarter century. There would be no more boring business duties at the office tower of Blidgen and Fotts, located in downtown Manhattan.

Bob Bickerman could now be a rogue, a gentleman or anything of his choosing. He popped on the sound system in the bedroom and loaded a ninety minute cassette tape with the first song being Tarrapin Station by the Grateful Dead. Turning the volume knob to the right for more volume, he crawled into the white porcelain bathtub. The water was fine! No hurry today! Closing his eyes he drifted into the music.

Scrubbing his back with the back brush; he decided to make this a quick bath and skip the morning meal. After going through the rudimentary motions of bathing; he stepped out of the tub sliding on his black sweatpants. There was no reason to climb into a three piece suit for the final appearance at the office. He would drive the motor home into Manhattan to his penthouse office suite, clean out his desk, and head out of New York toward the Canadian border.

Fully dressed in sweatpants, tan polo shirt and light blue canvas tennis shoes; Bob grabbed the keys to his new RV and returned to the kitchen. He rolled another cigarette, and opened a cabinet door over the sink to retrieve a brandy bottle. Having a few shots of brandy at 9:30 am before work was not the normal routine but he figured what the hell.

He picked up the bottle of Napoleon brandy. Rather than pour a quick shot; he stood up from the table to grab a crystal bourbon glass from the cabinet above the sink. Those first two large gulps of brandy changed his whole world. The song ‘Winds of Change’ by the Jefferson Starship was now playing through the sound system. Wow! What a perfect day!

Capping the bottle and carrying it into his bedroom; he opened the brown leather suitcase to find a place for the bottle among the tightly packed clothes. Barely managing to cram the bottle inside the suitcase he forced the latches shut.

The last thing to do before leaving the house was to pop the cassette out of the cassette deck in the bedroom. He certainly didn’t want to leave one of his favorite cassettes in a house he would never see again. Shoving the tape into his polo shirt pocket, Bob made his way to the front door with suitcase in hand. Drinking the brandy had eased all of those last day jitters where saying goodbyes at corporate headquarters were concerned.

As the slender sixty-six year old man stood on the front porch holding his suitcase; he noticed a neighbor lady in the home one hundred yards down the street, staring toward him from her front porch. For a brief moment before stepping off the porch, Bob was sorry for her being condemned to a life of routine, hidden away in her home every day while her husband was in an office God only knows where.

Bob had been inside the old hag’s mansion many times at weekend bridge parties the short fat woman and her shallow minded husband had thought were so very important. The only reason he tolerated the stuffed shirt bores at the parties was the fact that the woman’s husband always hired very nice looking young ladies as servers. They would scurry about in short skirts, offering drinks to the guests like whores in a bordello.

After hesitating a few minutes on the porch, taking one last look at his neighborhood; Bob moved down the steps toward the long yellow motor home in the driveway. The coach would be his new home until he decided otherwise. He flipped the latch on the side entry door and entered, placing the leather suitcase on the bed in the back bedroom.

The cloudless blue sky, gleaming with warm sunshine, made him feel like he was seeing the world clearly for the first time. Walking slowly to the front of the coach, Bob seated himself in the wide captain’s chair. He turned the ignition key, patiently listening to the smooth sound of the engine as he backed slowly out of the driveway. Bob smiled and waved to the guard standing outside the neighborhood’s security gate as the long yellow RV coasted onto the city street. This was it! The time had come. What a fine day for a drive!

This day was only the second time he had driven the thirty-six foot yellow coach. The first time was driving home from the dealership after purchasing the beast the previous Friday evening. Bob’s wife had suggested he simply make a telephone call to order the thing and have it delivered to the house. Bob knew that sometime in the future this would be his permanent home . . . no way lady!

The motor home rolled along the city street in light traffic with Bob feeling more alive than at any time in his life. The coach was easier to control than the New York City transit bus he had driven five years to put himself through college. The driver’s seat was more comfortable than any chair he had ever sat in. Yes! This new home would be his new palace! The suspension system made the ride seem like he was floating on air rather than moving over hot pavement. Bob had no regrets in spending one million dollars on this perfect machine that held all the amenities of home.

The manager of the RV dealership had laughed when Bob asked him if he could install a cassette deck in the dash. He would agree to Bob’s request only if Bob would leave it on the lot for an additional week. The guy thought he was a nut, insisting that the existing sound system was far better than any system with a cassette player.

Bob did not agree. He drove it home from the dealership knowing exactly what he needed to do. The following Saturday morning he called a stereo store, requesting they bring a cassette deck to his house for installation. Bob explained to the store manager he would also require their highest quality speakers to be fitted snuggly in the front, back and middle sections of the coach.

Two installer service guys came to the house two hours after Bob made the phone call. That evening he was sitting in the driver’s seat drinking an ice cold Fosters beer, listening to the newly installed sound system with the volume cranked up. One of the neighbors called the police which did not surprise Bob. He was feeling no pain after drinking the two quart sized cans of Fosters beer, and could have cared less that the volume was too loud for the prudish neighbors. The two cops who answered the complaint were impressed with the sound system, asking him politely to turn down the volume before the officers drove away.

* * *

Bob popped on the turn signal, steering the coach into the left turn lane. While waiting for the light to change, he placed the cassette in his polo shirt pocket into the cassette deck on the console to his right. He considered cranking up the volume and hesitated, making the wise decision to be more conservative after drinking two double brandies before leaving the house. This would not be the day to be arrested for drunk driving. There would be plenty of time to crank up the sound system when out of the city. Today it would be first things first. One last trip to the office and he would be free of all responsibility. This final appearance would allow him to leave New York City in style.

The music sounded fine at the reasonably sane volume as he made a left turn toward Manhattan. The coach, or the yellow beast as Bob liked to call it, handled perfectly as he pressed down the gas pedal to get in front of a Volvo station wagon. The wagon had been blocking his path to move onto the more congested four lane street that would take him to his office building in city center. By the time Bob had turned over the ninety minute cassette tape to side B; he was cruising into the main business area.

The traffic was jammed together bumper to bumper with as many cabs as cars. One question came to his mind as he approached the fifty story office building where he had worked the past twenty-five years. Where the hell am I going to park this oversized beast?

Circling the city block three times unable to find a parking place, he eased the coach against the red curb in front of his office building, shutting off the ignition. Placing the keys in the front pocket of his black sweatpants, he stood up behind the driver’s seat to stretch his legs. The pleasant thought of walking to the rear bedroom to remove the brandy bottle from the suitcase for another swig was interrupted by a loud knock on the side entry door.

Damn it!

The disgust turned to relief the instant Bob recognized the sun tanned face of the intruder standing on the curb. It was good ole Tom Cisco the doorman of the office building. Tom and Bob were good friends, having gone on many after hours play time excursions to the taverns in the downtown area of Manhattan. Tom was a down to earth guy who never seemed to let anything bother him. Their friendship had developed several months ago when Bob had staggered out the front door of the office building after the Christmas Eve party, stone cold drunk.

Tom had called a cab for Bob and saw to it he got home safely, even though Bob was in no hurry to go home to spend Christmas Eve alone with his nagging wife. To show his appreciation for getting him home from the party; Bob invited Tom and his wife Becky to the New Years Eve party at Bob’s mansion the following week. Bob’s neurotic wife was shocked when Tom and Becky showed up wearing costumes rather than formal attire.

Bob had explained to Tom that he and Becky wearing the costumes to a formal party where his wife had invited all her friends, would not only be funny, but very annoying to the woman he despised. Tom understood completely, having had the displeasure of meeting Bob’s snobbish wife on one previous unpleasant occasion.

Tom appeared at the party in a white rabbit costume with long floppy ears. His wife Becky was dressed as a ballerina. She waved a wand at the quests all evening, pretending to be a fairy godmother. Some quests laughed as Tom entered the house and others had shocked expressions on their faces. Becky prancing around in a skimpy skirt, waving her wand, pretending to cast spells on certain guests was the queen of the party. The old farts in tuxedos could not take their eyes away from her.

Becky had cast a spell on the crowd with her perfectly shaped lily white body, shoulder length golden hair and page boy bangs .Tom Cisco had real class. Why should his wife be anything less? She moved about gracefully as if she was a princess, entertaining the guests at her palace.

Bob had also admired this beauty as this was the first time he had seen her. Even though Tom was twenty years younger than himself; Bob had not expected Tom’s wife to be in her twenties. He loved her silky white complexion and straight blond hair, cut evenly across her neck, two inches above her shoulders. Most of all, Bob appreciated Becky’s page boy bangs and pink lipstick that made here look so clean and pure.

Becky danced with every old codger Bob’s wife had invited to the party, and Tom won a respectable sum of money from the men who crept away from the crowd to a poker table in the game room. Bob hated to say goodnight to Tom and Becky that evening. A feeling in his gut told him they would be lifelong friends.

* * *

Bob smiled as he opened the coach door, receiving a humble greeting from his friend Tom Cisco.

Glad to see you Tom! Want a drink? I couldn’t find a place to park the yellow beast. There’s a bottle of Napoleon brandy somewhere inside the coach.

Tom offered Bob a wide grin, pleased at the mention of booze as he spit a wad of chew into the gutter between the RV and the curb.

Did I hear that magical word brandy? I didn’t think you were leaving until next week amigo.

Bob stepped out of the coach onto the sidewalk.

Sorry I haven’t had a chance to speak to you these past few days Tom. It’s been miserable living alone in that tomb of a house for seven days after firing all the servants last week. I meant to tell you that my wife cashed out a few days ago and went on her merry way. It’s been too damn creepy walking thru those long hallways of the house after dark in all the silence. I’ve had all I can stand of that house and this office building.

I can’t say I blame you amigo. Being the greeter at this building entrance for the past eight years is starting to cause havoc on my back and feet, not to mention the boredom.

Bob shook Tom’s hand as he lost his smile somewhere in the passing traffic.

Can you watch the coach for about an hour? I circled the block three times unable to find a place to park. Maybe you can ward off that lady traffic cop who looks like a wrestler long enough for me to go inside to clean out my desk and say a few goodbyes?

Tom and Bob walked side by side to the tall glass double doors of the building entrance. Tom opened the door proudly, waving his arm toward the ground in a slow respectful salutation.

Not a problem amigo! I can use that drink. Becky was in one of her queen bee moods this morning. I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.

Bob reached in his sweatpants, handing Tom the coach keys before entering the main lobby of the building. As Bob entered the building making his way toward the elevator; Tom strolled toward the entry door of the motor home to disappear inside. His mind was on that brandy bottle Bob had mentioned. Where was it?

He walked from cabinet to cabinet discovering everything except the brandy. Unable to find the magical elixir; he stepped out the exit door returning to his statue like stance two feet to the right of the building’s double doors. Tom was poised, yet wondering how long it would take the traffic patrol lady with the butch haircut to appear. So far so good he thought, but where was that brandy bottle hidden.

Bob entered the double doors of the office building, making his way past the lobby receptionist. In his vacation attire; he looked like a surfer who had woke up on a wet beach after a drunken night at a beach party. The young lady in the lobby reception cubicle smiled, but seemed shocked to see one of the most important executives in the company not wearing his usual three piece suit. It was obvious she was unaware of the fact that Bob Bickerman was making his last appearance at Blidgen and Fotts.

Bob pressed the penthouse button on the elevator door and pushed his way inside. Two men in suits and an attractive woman who looked like a fashion show runway model watched intently as the grey haired man stood at attention, two feet in front of them. Feeling the unfriendly expressions of those standing behind him, Bob regretted not being thoughtful enough to fill a small flask with brandy for a quick drink to take away the edge. He was not looking forward to his retirement party that was supposed to be a surprise.

After a slow contemplative ride upward, the elevator doors opened at the lush interior of the penthouse area. Bob was greeted by the pleasant smile of his receptionist and executive secretary Mary Cerelli .

Good morning Bob. Don’t you look sharp today!

Bob had always appreciated Mary’s smiling face on those days when he trudged into the office building, feeling like he would rather be on another planet. Her friendly greeting each day always gave him new strength. The main thing Bob liked about Mary was her pure and natural beauty. She wore very little makeup and dresses cut right above the knee. The dresses were plain yet well chosen, to complement her dark Italian complexion and black silken hair.

Bob had never cheated on his wife even though he and Mary had taken several long lunches together away from the office. They had become good friends but neither of the two had ever made the suggestion to be more intimate. At every opportunity she was invited to parties at Bob’s home, always being accompanied by a handsome gentleman.

Mary and Bob never conversed at the parties, except on one occasion when he managed to get her away from the crowd to a quieter part of the house for a game of chess. Mary had won the game, remaining humble after the victory. She was capable enough to cut any man down to size who got out of line. She had the look, the intelligence and the self confidence, but never felt the need to exhibit those rare qualities to anyone.

As Bob stood at the reception desk smiling at the forty-four year old woman who had politely greeted him for the past five years as his executive secretary; his true feelings became much stronger. He wanted to grab her and carry her out of the building like a knight rescuing a princess. Gathering himself to hold his emotions in check, he spoke to her in a whisper.

Thanks for warning me earlier in the week about my retirement party Mary. I would consider it an honor if you would take my hand and accompany me inside my office.

Mary was not expecting the gesture. Her eyes gleamed with pleasure as she eased her chair from the desk to stand and take Bob’s arm. The moment they opened the door to the suite there was a loud cheer and applause from a crowd of sixty people as they shouted in unison.

Surprise!

The quests were more than surprised to see Bob dressed casually in black sweatpants, brown polo shirt and light blue canvas tennis shoes. Even more interesting to those in the room was Mary’s tall slender figure, standing next to Bob. Her hands were attached firmly to his arm as if they had been together forever. The fact was, she was enjoying the show much more than Bob, who pretended to appreciate the greeting of the crowd. When the two of them settled into the center of the room, Mary loosened her grip on Bob’s arm smiling at him.

Calm down and relax. I’ll get you a drink Bob.

Thank you Mary! Anything strong and tall will be just fine.

Mary moved gracefully past a small group of men wearing expensive suits, standing next to women carefully chosen to attend the fiasco. Joe Branigan, the president of the firm was the first person to approach Bob, offering him his right hand.

Hello Bob! Everyone here is sorry to see you leaving. I wish there was some way to convince you to stay.

Bob managed a polite hello and thank you to Joe but had never liked the man. They had played golf together on several weekends strictly as a business relationship. Bob had never invited Joe to his home and Joe should probably have gone into acting. He was very good at disguising his sociopathic personality. Bob had learned to hate Joe’s phony smile after a few empty conversations with the man on the golf course. He was certain that the real Joe Branigan cared nothing about anything except money, success and himself. The president of one of the largest brokerage firms in the nation was nothing more than a lost soul in a three piece suit.

Bob never trusted the man as far as he could spit but played the game of friendship while collecting his seven figure salary with unlimited perks. The only thing Bob had enjoyed during his last five years at Blidgen and Fotts was getting away from the office for long intimate lunches with Mary. Sharing a meal and drinks in a quiet setting with a kind human being had been worth more to Bob than all the gold in the world.

He was pleased to see Mary returning with a drink in each hand. As she approached the two men, Joe put a congratulatory hand on Bob’s shoulder, taking a few clumsy steps backward. He then made an awkward about face, making his way toward a group of four women in the far corner of the office suite.

Bob accepted the bourbon glass from Mary, taking a large swig. He was six feet tall and with the two now facing each other; her dark brown eyes matched his level of height. Mary was flat out beautiful which made Bob wonder why she had became an executive’s secretary rather than a model or actress. As she casually moved to his side, handing him a drink, she could feel the uneasiness in his expression.

Cheer up and smile Bob. The party won’t last forever. Relax and sip your drink like you own the world. You are the star of the show! It’s all for you.

Bob wasn’t sure how long the party had gone on before he and Mary entered his office suite. He took a deep breath, seeing that a dozen guests had already departed after thirty minutes passed. Mary gave him a gentle nudge in the side with her elbow, whispering in his ear.

We need to stay until this thing is over. The crowd is as anxious to leave as you are. I’ll refresh your drink.

Before she could take the glass for a refill, he placed his arm around her waist.

Forget the drink Mary! My glass isn’t empty. We’ll hang out and pretend we are enjoying the party. If I lose my smile, pinch me or kick me in the shin.

Mary eased her body closer to him as if he was the spider and she was caught in his web.

We shouldn’t stand here looking stupid. You are the boss. Why not go out in style? Come on! Let’s mingle.

She took his arm, pulling him toward the nearest group of people standing ten feet away, and spoke softly in Bob’s ear as they moved deliberately toward the group.

You aren’t relaxing. You’ve lost the smile Bob! These people could care less about any serious conversation. All we have to do is move from group to group and thank everyone for coming. Let them do the talking. They want to feel important.

Bob welcomed the advice, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

I’m never going to let you leave my side again Mary!

For the next hour the two of them moved in all directions like the king and queen of the ball until the last guests had departed. The retirement party had been a success. Those who may not have looked forward to attending the affair, appreciated Bob’s courtesy in thanking them for their support through the years. What a relief it was that the large office suite was now empty and quiet, allowing Bob and Mary to sit shoulder to shoulder on a sofa, with feet resting on a coffee table.

Thanks Mary! I think I enjoyed the party after we started moving from group to group thanking everyone.

Mary looked into Bob’s eyes revealing a look he had never seen before.

Are you leaving the area today Bob?

Bob took her hand, looking directly into her dark brown eyes.

I can’t live in New York anymore Mary. There are too many unpleasant memories. If it weren’t for being able to see you at the office each day; I would have gone out of my mind.

Bob knew this was the perfect time to say what he’d been thinking all week while sitting alone in his home after dismissing the servants. He didn’t know exactly how to tell her his true feelings as his heart started pounding.

I don’t think I can leave the city unless you will come with me. I can’t handle anymore sleepless nights thinking of you.

Mary offered her hands to Bob with a sly devious look appearing on her face.

Will you promise to take care of me?

As soon as she spoke Bob knew she was intentionally giving him a hard time. He stood to his feet, pulling her up from the couch.

You’re too much! Don’t you know how difficult it was for me to get up the courage to say that? I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest. I should turn you over my knee and spank you.

Mary laughed.

Well! Will you take care of me?

Bob took her hand, leading her in the direction of the door.

I think you learned to take care of yourself long ago Mary. Come on! The motor home has been parked in front of the building for almost two hours in a no parking zone. Tom might have bound and gagged the meter maid to keep the thing from being towed away.

* * *

When the two arrived at the ground floor, Tom was standing in his usual place outside the thick double entry doors. He politely said hello and tipped his black Homburg hat to Mary. The couple conveyed their greeting to Tom, walked to the side entrance door of the RV, and stepped inside after Tom tossed Bob the coach keys.

Mary followed Bob to the front of the RV, seating herself on the front passenger seat. Setting her purse near the window on her right, she was puzzled as to why Bob was sitting motionless in the driver’s seat with the key in the ignition. He sat frozen making no effort to start the engine.

What’s wrong Bob?

He didn’t answer. His eyes were in a glaze as he stared out the front window as if in a coma. After a long minute of silence; Mary got up from her seat and walked outside to Tom, who was standing completely still in front of the double doors like a cigar store Indian, waiting to be brought to life. It hadn’t taken Mary’s womanly intuition long to understand why Bob was sitting motionless in the drivers seat without starting the engine. She knew Tom and Bob were close friends, and to end that friendship without so much as a handshake was terribly wrong.

Mary and Tom had come to know each other through meeting on a couple occasions at dinner parties at Bob’s home. She had liked Tom and his wife Becky every since that first party on New Years Eve when Tom had walked in wearing the rabbit suit, and Becky appeared as a fairy godmother dressed in a ballerina outfit, waving her silver wand. As to her opinion of the couple; Tom and Becky were both so carefree. How could anyone not like them and want them as friends? Mary knew Tom and Bob were best buddies and was confused when Bob had simply walked past him, accepting the RV keys without offering a handshake.

She could see the sad look in Tom’s eyes as she stepped out of the coach onto the curb. She moved at a fast even pace toward the man, not stopping her march until their noses were almost touching.

You two stubborn slobs wouldn’t say a word to each other so I guess it’s up to me. Just keep your mouth shut and listen! I’m leaving New York with Bob and I know he wants you to come with us. We would love to have you and Becky as company on the trip.

A smile of relief appeared on Tom’s face after hearing Mary’s invitation to join them. He walked up the entrance step of the RV behind Mary, with Bob looking back toward the two of them and shouting.

Well fetch the guy a drink! There’s a bottle of brandy in the back bedroom inside my leather suitcase.

Tom grabbed Mary and pointed her toward the front passenger seat as he shouted toward Bob up front.

Thanks amigo! I’ll fetch the bottle myself. I looked for it for half an hour while you were inside doing the retirement gig with those corporate clowns.

Bob waited for Tom to bring the bottle to the kitchen area in the middle of the coach before starting the engine. Tom wasted no time making himself at home by locating a glass in the cupboard to pour a generous three fingers of brandy. Taking a deep breath, he rested his tall frame on the soft cushions of the kitchen booth table in the center of the coach.

Bob was pleased to see his friend sitting comfortably with his bourbon glass half full. He opened the driver’s window reaching out his arm, signaling the move into approaching traffic whether the cars behind him liked it or not. A yellow cab driver, seeing the arm signal, hit his brake to allow Bob to ease the thirty-six foot yellow coach into the street. Bob honked the horn to acknowledge the courtesy of the taxi driver and pressed the gas pedal to gain momentum. The three of them cruised along slowly, caught in the flow of traffic for several minutes until Mary reached toward Bob, smacking his leg.

My bank is ahead on the left Bob. Try to find a place to park! I hate using credit cards all the time. I’ll need some cash for our trip.

After giving the order, Mary raised her legs to rest her bare feet on the dash. Her light blue skirt situated well above her knees was making Bob crazy. He could concentrate on nothing except those legs and the smell of her perfume.

I’m not complaining Mary but I don’t want to wreck the coach. Those smooth brown legs of yours, kicked up in front of you, almost made me hit the truck that cut in front of us a few seconds ago.

She smiled at Bob placing her feet on the floor. During the confusion, Tom knew something was up but wasn’t sure exactly what his friends were discussing. He walked up front to stand behind Mary to ease his mind. Resting both hands on the back of the passenger seat for balance, he leaned toward Bob.

Where are we headed amigo?

Mary turned toward Tom, putting one of her hands on his arm after seeing he had joined them up front.

We’re going to stop at my bank past the stoplight at the next intersection.

Tom said nothing as he returned to his seat in the dining area fifteen feet behind his friends to enjoy his drink, and light a Pall Mall from his red pack. Disgusted with the bank’s parking lot being so small, Bob had to stop in the street. Annoyed drivers behind the RV were honking their horns in anger which made Bob push Mary toward the exit door.

Climb out Mary! Those jokers behind us may stone the coach if I don’t get it moving! Tom and I will circle the block until we see you outside along the curb waiting.

As soon as Mary jumped out the side door onto the pavement, Bob made a left turn to circle the block. He yelled back to Tom in the booth.

Hey Tom! Would you pour me a drink? Driving this yellow beast in downtown Manhattan is like being in a war zone!

Bob shouted a second time hearing no reply, and nearly jumped out of his seat when a hand tapped him on the top of his head. Tom was laughing as he waved an uncorked brandy bottle under Bob’s nose. He seemed pleased to hear the shouts and curse words coming from inside the cars behind them.

I have you covered amigo! A few snorts will be a good chaser for the heavy traffic.

He handed Bob a bourbon glass and poured, watching him take a large swig while trying not to crash into the Mercedes six feet ahead. Sensing that the brandy had helped ease Bob’s nerves, Tom sat down in the empty passenger seat a couple feet to the right of his friend. The two of them made the first complete circle of the block, not seeing Mary waiting along the curb outside the bank.

Tom’s bourbon glass was empty. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Bob’s glass as the two of them cruised past the bank. Bob made the same left turn to circle the block a second time.

I’ll get us a refill Bob? If we crash into someone at least we will have an excuse.

"No more of the hard stuff for me Tom! I’ll catch up later. Bring me a cold beer. More brandy