“Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s hitchhiking we go…”

Mio threw Meri and me a withering glare.

I decided that it was well past time for me to voice my opinion. Someone was going to have to sooner or later. Besides, precious wisdom is not to be squandered. I think it chivalrous of me to offer so freely. “This isn’t working. It’s nearly dark.”

Mio waited. “And the correlation between those statements is what?”

“Um… this isn’t working and it’s nearly dark?”

Mio threw her hands in the air as if pleading for some divine intervention. “Why do I even try to work with you two?” she cried.

I could see as well as anyone that she didn’t require an answer. Nevertheless, I felt compelled to reply. “Because you’d have to bust your ass to do it alone?” I offered.

“Because there isn’t anyone better?” Meri smiled charmingly.

I had to admit that was a good point. Pity I hadn’t thought of it.

Mio ignored us and linked her arm in Camry’s and stormed on ahead of us. I wondered that there wasn’t any gray storm cloud above her head. It would have been fun to watch itty bitty little bolts of lightening fly. At any rate, she didn’t say another word until a beat up van rumbled to the side of the road. “Be nice.” she hissed.

“If there is another way to be I do not know it.” I retorted, skipping to the driver’s side window. “Hey there!” I called perkily, casually flipping my hair so that he might be awed by the glamour and general sheen as any half way decently sane person ought. “We’re looking for a ride to, uh…”

“Milwaukee.” Mio supplied.

“…and we, um…”

“We will willingly compensate for any trouble it might cost you.” Meri said, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Monetarily.” Mio added quickly. “Compensate monetarily. Surely you feed this contraption something, right?”

The man glanced at the three of us in turn. “Um, you mean gas?”

“Sure.” I nodded. Let’s not get him talking about his personal problems. I mean, if he wanted to just speak of it with complete strangers that was his prerogative, but we will not be said strangers. Gas is something you discuss with close friends, if at all, or doctors if tis a serious problem. If this guy wanted some advice I’d tell him that picking up girls in this fashion is not an altogether winning strategy.

He smiled at me as the four of us crawled into the vehicle. I tactfully avoided his gaze. Scuzzy looking with a ferret on the chin and a penchant for fashion circa 1969 is so not my cup of tea. Being married to Camry might actually come in handy for once. Who’d have thought? Certainly not I, and let me assure you that my mind usually runs rampant with thought. Granted, not all of it is useful but a great majority of it will prove to be unexpectedly handy in certain situations. Like when Mio and I were working together on that mission on E17 last year and were captured. I, recalling the properties of linked hot dogs, won our freedom.

At the moment I was busy thinking about the photographs that were secured in a small group in the back of the van. Each photo contained a smiling girl. Some were prettier than others, some taller, some thinner, some darker, some older… and some with the most dire interpretation of fashion I’ve seen since the horrendous spandex fad fiasco of ten years ago, but I digress. There seemed to be no connecting feature. What really bothered me was that the majority seemed familiar… in a vague, tingly kind of disconnected way.

I tried to get Meri’s attention, but she was muttering something about exploding turtles and I decided to leave her be. Mio was riding shotgun trying to discreetly unwrap a twinkie. It would have been poor form to call her out on her rarely indulged sweet-tooth

I decided to let the photograph quandary go for awhile when Camry shifted in his seat and threw an arm about my shoulders. I wondered at this sudden display until I caught our driver eyeing me in the rear view mirror. Camry was claiming me, branding even. I felt like a cow. I mooed softly and giggled and then promptly became serious when I noticed our driver’s lips had twisted into a sardonic smile and his eyes were searing. I’m betting cows don’t often get that look and if they do it’s just plain wrong.

Really, there’s something just plain wrong about this whole situation. I can’t place my finger on it but it will come to me in time, oh yes. If anyone has the ability to figure this out, tis I.