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Show Hw WPi I.V P I f PAGE THE ZEPHYROCTOBER 89 back. Ha's left me In Vero Beach with nine bucks and my Boy Scout pack. Ho even took the cigars. I stayed on the picnic table for another hour, trying to stay calm. My only choice, I figured, was to hitchhike north to Daytona Beach. Some college friends were there (somewhere); maybe I could find them. Maybe they'd feel sorry tor me, and give me a ride home. Maybe they'd help me find Tynes and strangle him. But first things first Id never hitchhiked before. Id always been tcid: Never pick up hitchhikers. Now I was one. Putting my thumb out for the very first time took courage. But what else could I do? A few minutes later, I caught my first ride. I thought I was in Heaven two girls in a Thunderbird drinking Coca Cola. They asked me where I was going. Daytona, I said. They giggled. They were only going as far as Wabasso, they explained. How far is that, I asked. They giggled again. About five miles. Ten minutes later, I was standing In the gravel in the hot sun with my thumb extended once again. This time, nobody stopped. An hour passed. Was I invisible? Did I look like a "hippie?1 What seemed to be the problem? I was about to give up when a 53 Ford passed me, slowed down, and pulled over to the shoulder. An arm came out the window, motioning me to climb In. There Is an old axiom look before you leap, this time I forgot I'd settled into the backseat closed the door and was back on the road before I really bothered to look around. When I did, I saw five of the meanest toughest looking desperados I believe I'd ever laid eyes on. They were In their forties or fifties, their faces and hands were weather beaten and worn. The driver was especially appealing. His face bore the deep scars of what must have been a vicious knife fight He appeared to have been the loser. As the miles rolled by, no one said a word. No one except the driver, who yelled obscenities at oncoming traffic, nearby pedestrians, and no one In particular. At Titusville, we stopped for gas. 11 hid from one shady character, I was assumed to be one myself, by none other than the owner of the shoe store. Before I could get my thumb to the edge of town, the cops arrived and hustled me to a patrol car. All I could think of were the nightmarish stories of southern justices of the peace who had recently resorted to shaving the heads of northern students as "sentencing for a variety of Infractions. My Infraction according to the cop was loitering. "I never fitter, I said, having some difficulty with his southern drawL "Dont get smart, Boy, he warned. But the cop, whos name I think was Farley, was not such a bad fellow after all In fact, he gave me a drive all the way to New Smyrna Beach. From there it was a short hitch to Daytona. After walking the beach for several hours, I found a car with a Kentucky license plate, which ultimately led to my friends and salvation. Close to broke, I took advantage of their good nature for the next three days, and bummed a ride home with them on Sunday. While . I Back In Louisville, I drove out to see if Tynes had returned. His car sat innocently In the driveway. It was a dark and moonless night I knew what had to be done. A few hours later, safe and secure In my own domicile, the phone rang -- - It was Tynes. see you're back. "However could you tell? I asked Innocently. "Youre too soft, he replied. "Who else would let the air out of my tires, and then leave me an air pump? "Did I leave that old pump?" I chuckled. "Why that pump hasnt worked In he said, "Well, Stiles, , "I years. "STILES!, Tynes roared. "Welcome home. Editors Note: Since the publication of "When I Was Young and Stupid (July), Who fo this Tynes character, and does he really exist? people have asked me He does Indeed; In fact, he rolled Into Moab one evening several weeks ago. Our community will probably never be the same. Twenty-tw- o years after I first met David L Tynes, I can honestly say that he has not changed a bit the man Is completely Insane; he Is still .crazy. "Still crazy after all these years. He provides a continuity In my life which would otherwise not exist To add further proof that Tynes is not a figment of my Imagination, I offer photographic evidence. Although the picture may more closely resemble human versions of Yogi Bear and BooBoo, it is In fact Tynes (r) and this writer. Believe It or not . , . t The driver turned to his front seat passengers, "Ive got to take a leak, he growled. "Do you mind?" They nervously shook their heads. Then he turned to each of us in the backseat and asked the same question. No problem, we said. Scarfoce, who I now realized had been sucking on a bottle of Ancient Age and was totally drunk, climbed out of the car and staggered to the men's room. When the door closed, the man next to me squirmed. "Let me guj of here, he said. "Wait a minute, I asked. "Aren't you with this guy? The entire group looked at me. "Hell no," he said. "Were all hitchhikers, Just Ike you. And that guy is nuts. The five of us lumped out of the car. I followed my fellow hitchhikers around the comer of the builc)hg where we hid behind a palmetto. Scarfoce came out of the toilet, ahd when he saw the empty car, began to pace back and forth In front of the pumps. Meanwhile, as we cowered in the shadows, I asked my new friends Just why we were hiding. We didn't know this guy. We owed him nothing. 5 to 1. What could he do? They agreed. We Besides, we had him gathered our courage, emerged as a group from behind the palmetto, and defiantly walked passed our drunken driver. The guy went nuts. He flung open the car doors and demanded that we get back in. For some reason, we stopped to listen and Scarfoce charged. A heated argument arose between him and the other four. Being a latecomer to this menagerie, I assumed the role of observer. I really didn't feel like I was "one of them. Suddenly, Scarfoce turned my way, grabbed my collar and said, "OK, Kid. At least you're riding with me. I broadsided him with my Boy Scout pack, and my unwanted chauffeur went sprawling across the sidewalk. For a moment, feeling pleased with myself, I stood there grinning at the man on the ground. But when he rolled over on his back and I saw those crazed eyes and yellow teeth, I knew.it was time to leave. I sprinted down the sidewalk and didn't look back. I could hear the guy cursing and yelling but the voice faded as I turned up a side street and hid In a shoe store. I saw my carved up friend cruise by, in search of his pals. But after awhile, the crisis finally passed. out-numb- ered WAV f ' V V . VV - t v!' ' tt N . , . Vj 0 , ' . S - h O vote for DAVE 8AKRISON City Councilman A Proven, Fair, and Accessible Leader for the 90s VOTE ON NOVEMBER 7 tt Friendly Dave |