In Laymon's Terms

It wasn’t a car, but a recreational vehicle the size of a bus, steered by a senior citizen with a ballcap and cigarette. When he saw Sally coming at him, his mouth fell open. The cigarette dropped from his lips.

Not an instant too soon, Sally brought the MG back into its own lane. Malcolm glanced over his shoulder. The RV, thank heavens, was still on the road.

“Now you must drive more carefully!”

“Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m sorry. But really!”

“I’ll be careful,” she said, and smiled at him, showing those perfectly aligned teeth. “You won’t put me out, will you?”

“Not if you improve your driving.”

“What if we pass another hitchhiker? I been on the Coast Highway plenty of times, and there’s more hitchhikers than you can count. What if...?”

“You were here first,” Malcolm told her.

“Does that mean I can stay?”

“Of course.”

“What if she’s more beautiful than me?”

“I won’t give it a thought.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“You’ll see,” Malcolm said. “Now please, I would like to get some sleep.”

“You want me to stop talking?”

“If you would.”

“Sure.”

Once Malcolm was confident that Sally had toned down her driving, he allowed himself to shut his eyes. He quickly dozed off.

An awful noise shocked him awake.

The car radio.

“Sally!”

She looked surprised to find him awake. “Oh, too loud?”

“Much too loud.”

“Sorry.” With an apologetic smile, she turned down the volume. Malcolm settled back. As his eyes drifted shut, he saw a young woman ahead, walking backward along the roadside, her thumb out. He considered remarking about her beauty and wondering aloud about her driving ability. He was too much of a gentleman to mock Sally’s fears that way, but he couldn’t resist smiling at the thought of it.

Sally saw the smile. “Oh, no you don’t!” she snapped and suddenly swerved to the right.

The hitchhiker had plenty of time to open her mouth wide, but not enough time to leap out of the way.

Malcolm shut his eyes.

The car jolted violently with the impact, throwing him against his shoulder harness. When he opened his eyes, the windshield was frosted with cracks and sprayed with blood. He looked out the rear window. The woman, now far behind the speeding car, was still tumbling.

“My God!” Malcolm cried out. “My God, you ran her down!”

“Sure.”

“Stop! Stop the car!”

“What for?” Sally appeared terribly calm, even cheerful.

“We can’t simply go off like this! It’s hit and run! That’s a felony! We have to go back! Perhaps we can help her somehow. Stop the car!”

“Can’t.” She smiled at him. “You’ll put me out for sure.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Malcolm reached for the ignition key, but Sally jerked the steering wheel. The car swung left toward the precipice and the ocean far below. “No!” Malcolm shrieked, certain that the next moment would find him airborne.

“Then keep your hands to yourself,” Sally warned. She brought the car back into its proper lane. “And don’t do that again.”

“I won’t!” Malcolm gasped.

He paid little attention to the pair of hitchhikers near the bend ahead of them. Not until Sally remarked, “She’s a cutie,” and peeled off the female.

“My God!” Malcolm yelled as the woman thundered against the car.

With a glance out the rear window, he saw the young man standing alone, looking nonplussed.

“Sally, you’ve got to stop!”

“Not till I get where I’m going.”

“Where’s that?”

“San Francisco.”

“That’s two hundred miles!”

“Is that all?” She smiled pleasantly.

Six miles later, they came upon a voluptuous brunette in cut-off jeans and a halter top. She carried a sign that read, “SAN JOSE OR BUST.” Malcolm covered his eyes when it happened.

“This is out and out...” The windshield was gone by now. With air pouring into his mouth at sixty miles per hour, he had difficulty speaking. “Out and out murder!” he managed.

“That’s what you say!” Sally yelled.

“That’s what anyone would say.”

She shook her head. “Not me. I say it’s...self defense.”

“For God’s sake!” Malcolm shouted, and gasped for air. “I’m not going to put you out!” That, he realized, was the honest truth. He couldn’t let her get away from him, not after this. Without Sally, who would believe his story? What policeman? What jury?

Well, he thought, perhaps we’ll be able to find witnesses who saw her driving. Like the young man back there.

But it’s my car. And I gave her permission to drive.

Oh, he thought, this is bad. This is very bad.

“Just stop running over people!” Malcolm shouted. “Please?”

“We’ll see,” Sally said.

Shortly after that, they saw a chubby woman in bib overalls by the side of the road ahead. Her thumb was out.

“Don’t!” Malcolm cried.

He ducked. The big woman dived through the open windshield as if she wanted to hug someone. Luckily, she went for Sally.

Malcolm went for the ignition key and got it.

As he plucked it out, the car swerved and skimmed along the edge of the precipice. With a quick tug at the steering wheel, he brought it back onto the road.