LOU'S TATTOOS

Chapter 13: THE READY ROOM

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  The "ready room" is the room where pilots gather for mission briefings and other preparations before heading out to their planes and taking off into the friendly (or even unfriendly) skies.  In this case, Lou O'Malley's kitchen is about to become the ready room for a flight that will change her life.  Enjoy Chapter 13 of LOU'S TATTOOS.

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In Debbie's bedroom, Debbie began flinging clothing into a suitcase, all the while singing, "Off you go ... into the wild, blue yonder ...Flying high ...ta-da-da-da-dahhh...."

Lou held the travel certificate Debbie had given her in one hand while she gripped her phone in the other. She talked to the airline reservation agent while she looked down at the dresser, at the magazine open to an article on "Utah — Land of Incomparable Images."

"That's right. Utah," she said into the phone. She glanced at the magazine for confirmation before she specified, "Moab, Utah."

When dawn broke hours later, Debbie was in the apartment kitchen, cutting up carrots and packing them into plastic bags, packing a lunch. She threw a large carrot out the back door onto the porch.

"Go for it, Conan," she called.

Lou bustled into the kitchen, folded magazine under one arm, checking off notations in a pocket notebook. She put down the notebook and magazine, held her pencil between her teeth, and filled a gallon size Ziplock bag with 35-millimeter film canisters from the refrigerator's egg tray.

Switching the pencil to one side of her mouth, she was able to say, "I have to fly to Denver and change planes; then fly to Grand Junction, Colorado; then rent a car and drive across the Utah border to Moab. It'll take all day, but I'll get there."

"Great," Debbie said. "Take my Gold Card for the rental car. We'll find a way to pay for it later." Debbie took a step closer to the magazine on the counter and examined it, front and back, thoughtfully. "What does this Galen Randall look like?"

"Nobody knows. Galen the Great never allows himself to be photographed. And why would you care, as long as he's rich?"

"I'd care because a rich hunk is better than a rich hulk," said Debbie.

"You have no morals."

"No, but I have standards."

Lou closed the fridge, picked up her notebook and magazine, checked an item off her list, and then reacted with alarm. "Sleep!" she yelped. "I forgot sleep! What am I gonna do, sleep in the car?"

Debbie said only, "Nichols."

"Nickels! Dimes! Quarters!" Lou raved, "Deb, I got none of the above. I can't afford three nights in a hotel in...," she checked her notes, "...Moab."

Debbie closed and sealed the lunch she had been packing and handed it to Lou. "Jimmy Nichols," Debbie said. "He runs a bike shop and a bed and breakfast in Moab. I'll call him. You'll stay free, breakfast included. No sweat. He owes me."

Lou looked at Deb with something akin to worship. "How do you meet these guys?"

"Meh, friend of a friend." Debbie grasped Lou's shoulders and pulled her in for a fast hug. "I gotta get dressed. You sure I can't drive you to the airport?"

"No, thanks. You've really done more than enough. You go on to work."

Debbie seemed taken aback for a second. "Oh, yeah. Work."

It was Lou's turn to hug Debbie—as much as she could with magazine, bagged film, notebook and pencil, and lunch sack in her hands.

"Thanks, Deb. You're terrific."

"Honey, don't I know it! ... Oh! What if your pop calls?"

"You tell him the truth, of course. I'd tell him myself, but I don't think I'll have time before my flight."

"The truth," Debbie mused. "Cool. That could work. Okay."

The girls nearly crushed each other in the small kitchen doorway as Debbie rushed to get dressed and Lou dashed to complete her packing.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Thanks for reading, voting, and commenting!  But, don't stop now! Quick, go on to the next chapter!