The Disillusionists cont'd...

May's parents lived on a nice acerage fairly close to town. Evidently they kept the camper in a barn on the property and it was dry, mold free and in mint condition. The only thing was that, "My dad doesn't like Mike hey?" said May as she drove, "So don't tell him that... tell him that we're just using it to go camping."

"He doesn't mind you just showing up and driving away?"

"Oh he already knows. The only other thing is, it's a deisel pusher so do you have like, an air-brake rating or anything?"

"Uh, no." I had pictured a van or something, "Why, how big is this thing?"

"It's fuckin' huge... That's okay though, I'll drive it. I've got an endorsement but it's just such a pain in the ass in the city."

I was certain that whatever I said would sound stupid but I spoke anyway, "I don't mind learning..." And then, "So what does your dad do anyway?"

"Oh he's retired," said May, "I'm sure you'll hear all abouit it.

They arrived at the house a few moments later and May parked on the lawn besid the drive. The camper stood, in all it's Class A glory, outside of the barn. It was the size of a small English Council house. Three generations of the same family could easily live in it. It had twin slide-outs, an awning and dual air-conditioning units on top. The main door was open and a vacuum could be heard running inside. May called towards the house, "Mom?"

Buck and Gracie's place was an old board and batten from the late eighteen-hundreds. It had two stories and a summer kitchen (added sometime in the nineteen-teens). It was used mostly for storing stuff now... Upstairs were three gabled bedrooms and the first right on the left led into the bathroom and at the end of the hall was a window I'd bet. The basement had stood in the same place for well over a century, it's walls were sixteen inches think at least and the sump-pump kicked in regularly and that was good, because the groundwater had flooded up to five feet deep a couple of times.

"Hi hon," came a voice from inside, "your father's just putting a few touches on the cruiser. Why don't you come inside?"

We went up the steps of the porch and into the summer kitchen. Once inside the main house, in the big regular kitchen, an older, white woman sat at the table stubbing out a cigarette and wiping cat hair off her housecoat.

"Hi Mommm..." said May, holding out her arms - which seemed pretty dramatic for someone who claimed to be living at home.
"Oh honey, it's so good to see you!"

Mrs. - I wasn't sure all of a sudden what May's last name was - got up and came over to May and gave her a big hug.

"Hello," she said to me over May's shoulder.

"Hi, uh Gunther, Gunther Stevenson. I extended a hand which she took as she and May untangled.

"Oh sorry," said May, "Gunther, this is my mom, Gracie."

"Hi Gracie."

"Hi'ya Gunther, c'mon in you two, make yourselves comfortable. Would you like a cup of coffee?'

"Sure. That would be great."

"Rachel honey," she said to May, "go tell your dad to get in here. Next thing you know he'll be scraping moose dirt from nineteen ninety-seven off the undercarriage."

"Yes ma'am..." she laughed and was gone.

"Sir down Gunther, that's an interesting name..." without giving me time to respond she continued, "the old guy gets a little cagey now and then but don't let it bother you. If I see you're having trouble I'll reel 'im back in for ya." She filled up the kettle with bottled water from the fridge and took a jar of instant coffee down from a cupboard. "I hope you kids can stay for lunch."

"I'm sure we could."

"Good." Gracie sat back down and lit up another smoke. She looked at me and smiled, "So where're you two off to?"

"Oh, we're planning to head out to the coast."

She exhaled, "NIce. It's beautiful out there."

"Yeah, well May, uh Rachel is in charge."

"Aw jeez, call her May if you want, I'll know who you mean." She got up to pour hot water in some mugs, "It's just when you've known her from day one as one thing it's pretty hard to switch gears all of a sudden, y'know?"