Episode 8: Driving Through the Desert
Welcome to MOONDAY CAFE a podcast that’s posted every month on the day of the full moon.
MOONDAY CAFE is devoted to the mind-expanding, mind-bending magical power of story.
Dovey leaves the Southern Coast of California and heads back to Texas. It’s only fitting that she find her way to Dallas. After all, the character J.R. Ewing was drawing attention worldwide. Heading back to the more familiar lore of Texas felt compelling. She heads back East.
Our guide is author, inspired performer, and barefoot cowgirl, Dovey Conlee.
Follow along for next month's episode: Be sure to subscribe here to the monthly emailer.
-
Episode 8: Driving Through the Desert
The moving truck left Dovey’s San Diego apartment in less than a pair of hours after it’s early morning arrival. By this time, her books, her household affects had grown in size and volume and taking all of those things with her back to Texas felt right at night, even if it was expensive.
She set out well before sundown to drive out across the Sonoran and Mojave Deserts. She loaded up her convertible with several jugs of water and snacks, along with a treasured cassette tape of the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack and classic cassette of Z.Z. Top’s Greatest Hits. She had purchased a new spare tire for her MG convertible and stowed a fully filled 2 gallon gas can in the trunk and she was finally on her way, but not alone.
A former Miss New Mexico, that she’d met in the office building where she worked was willing, and wanted to, ride with her to Albuquerque. Miss New Mexico did have a gun, but Dovey had a machete that she’d bought at an Army-Navy supply store in San Diego. Her high school days as a feature twirler taught her how to use one like a ninja, so between the two of them, they felt capable of making it through the twelve hour drive to the beauty queen’s home at the foot of the Sandia Mountains.
As they moved East, the journey took on the tone of a slight taste of the now famousThelma and Louise, but fortunately, none of the danger. Sure, it was ambitious for two young women to make the trek through the night across a dangerous desert, but they were courageous and ripe for adventure and ready to put that wild new world of an onset drug culture behind them. Cocain had been a ‘great white wave’ that the pop culture was openly embracing, but the professionals were beginning to drop like flies and the mayhem of those that were abusing the white powder were making foolish and financially stupid decisions. It wasn’t the time to linger. And, these young women knew it.
They sang through the night, sometimes with the top down and most of the journey with the top up, capturing at least a bit of air-conditioning. The only rest stops for coffee and a bathroom break were at the massive truck stops, which actually felt safe. Somewhat safe. There were the usual gawks and hassles, but for the most part, they could refill in peace and pull the little car down in gear and zip back to the freeway.
Halfway through the trip, they were in the gorgeous city of Phoenix and raw, but refined beauty of Scottsdale. Seeing the mountains that surrounded them with the up glow of the city lights, they felt they could finally pause for a hot meal.
And, like the relief of sailorsseeing a lighthouse on a rocky shore, right there like that type of welcoming ocean beacon was a, glowing, glistening blue and white International House of Pancakes, marine blue roof and all. Dovey jammed it down in gear and they hit the exit. Within 15 minutes they had sausage, fried eggs and hash browns and coffee with real cream and a waitress that genuinely smiled.
For a moment, literally…time stood still, like both women were transported out of their bodies. Here sat an astonishingly beautiful former beauty queen that stood six feet tall with shocking red hair. Like Dovey’s mother’s red hair. It was the same color of hair as her mother’s portrait.
And, on the opposite side of the booth sat the Dove, wondering just how she got here and wondering, once again, just where she really was going.
They locked eyes and the beauty queen said, I FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE JUST SAVED MY LIFE AND I MEAN IT, DOVEY. I NEED MY FAMILY RIGHT NOW. I NEED MY MOTHER. THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME RIDE WITH YOU SO THAT I CAN GO HOME. I CANNOT BELIEVE I WILL BE IN HER DRIVEWAY IN ABOUT 6 HOURS AND I HAVEN’T SEEN HER SINCE CHRISTMAS.
Christmas, Dovey thought. A family Christmas felt so remote to her that it felt like a Dicken’s story. She caught her breath.
She signaled for the check before she felt she would cry and the waitress eased up and spoke like a prophet as she set the ticket on the edge of the formica table top.
She said, YOU ARE BOTH BRAVE AND YOU KNOW THAT, BUT YOU MUST BE THE DRIVER, focusing on Dovey. Dovey nodded.
THERE IS SOMETHING UNSINKABLE ABOUT YOU AND, EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE THIS LOVELY FRIEND TRAVELING WITH YOU, I CAN TELL THAT YOU AREN’T TRAVELING ALONE. THERE ARE SPIRITS WITH YOU. GOOD SPIRITS. AND THE INDIAN SPIRIT IS OUTSIDE BESIDE YOUR LITTLE RED CAR.
When the waitress turned from the table, her long black braids swayed with her walk and the turquoise comb in her hair was clearly Navajo pawn.
Back in the car and on the road, both women were silent.
There was no music, only the wind in their hair with the top down. As they moved out of the city and the lights dimmed behind them, the car lights ahead in their lane looked like rubies and the lights from oncoming traffic looked like diamonds. Both could smell the water pouring onto thirsty golf courses and the vanishing orange groves smelled like bergamot. High on a good meal of comfort food and stunned by the shamanic waitress, the beauty queen finally spoke.
I AM FROM NEW MEXICO, SO THINGS LIKE THIS ARE NOT FRIGHTENING TO ME, BUT YOU SEEM TAKEN BACK. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? DID THAT SCARE YOU?
Dovey turned to her and smiled, her tethered hair fiercely tugging to come loose and whip wildly in that wind. She couldn’t, or wouldn’t, share her knowing. It felt sacrosanct to Dovey to boast about knowing that she had a guide, so she shouted against the wind:
TEACH ME MORE. TEACH ME WHEN YOU CAN, BECAUSE I AM OPEN TO ALL THE POSSIBILITIES.
With that comment, the beauty queen clutched her hand and they drove in silence for a few moments, then Dovey turned up the music and let the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack play 5th of BEETHOVEN, or the disco version of Beethoven’s 5th. Soon they were in a inky black sky with nothing but the Milky Way and some pavement to guide them.
At dawn, the sky changed into soft pastels in the east. The Rio Grande Valley of Albuquerque was ahead and the mountains had a sharp, dark edge as the sun made it’s way towards morning on the back side of the Sandia Peak. The beauty queen directed Dovey off the freeway and across town to the foot of the main peak. The neighborhood was coveted with old world mission-style homes that had broad lawns and swimming pools. They drove to the end of a boulevard and into a gated area that had private streets leading up to the very, point of the mountain wall and there before them was the home of the beauty queen’s parents. As they entered the drive, where the porch light was still on and waiting for their arrival, the lights signaled their approach and through the front door came the mother of the beauty queen, dressed in a lemon yellow chiffon penoir, arms open wide and promptly followed by the father, dressed in a robe that looked like an east coast smoking jacket. He placed his arms on his wife’s shoulders and they both stood in loving receipt to welcome their daughter that had just traveled 12 hours, nocturnally, through a difficult desert.
Low landscape lighting shot beams up the wall of the mountain, into and through the manicured flowerbeds and trees and even the lights inside the swimming pool were turned on for her arrival.
When the beauty queen stepped out of the convertible and moved like a swan towards her mother and father, the embrace was pure Hollywood. Dovey put the MG in first gear and pulled the parking brake. She sat still and took in the reunion, bewildered by the love and connection. A call from the pay phone at the Phoenix I-Hop had alerted these loving parents of the ETA for arrival and they had been up early and ready to receive their beloved.
After some warm introductions, Dovey was welcomed into the house and offered an invitation to spend that night to recover from the journey. It was a thoughtful gesture and Dovey accepted the chance to shower and nap, but insisted that she be on her way after that. This kind of intimacy was awkward for her, although she was grateful for being received so well.
The father grabbed the few bags and met the women inside the home. The kitchen smelled like life with Pillsbury’s canned cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven and orange juice, champagne and coffee placed on the sideboard by the formal dining room table. The father poured a mimosa for all and raised a glass to toast the successful journey.
ALL OF US IN NEW MEXICO ARE SO GRATEFUL THAT OUR BEAUTY HAS DECIDED TO RETURN TO OUR GREAT STATE AND JOIN THE FAMILY INSURANCE BUSINESS.
He then turned to this beautiful daughter and said it from the heart:
YOU MAY HAVE NOT WON THE MISS AMERICA PAGENT, BUT YOU HAVE WON ALL OF OUR HEARTS IN SO MANY WAYS. WELCOME BACK TO YOUR HERITAGE.
They raised their small glasses. The mother touched the corners of her eyes with the ring fingers of each hand, offering a sentiment of joy as she beamed with victory.
The father placed his left hand on Dovey’s neck and shoulder and said: WE ARE SO GRATEFUL YOU GOT HER OUT OF THERE. THANK YOU. FROM OUR HEARTS, THANK YOU. THANK YOU. And then, he shook her shoulder with the feel of an exclamation point, and moved to a sliding glass door and opened it to receive a collie dog that had been brushed to death and floated with conditioned hair and a pencil nose to the hands of the beauty queen, greeting her with the poise of a show dog, compelling Dovey to wonder if the beauty queen, an only child of this wealthy duo, was just like the blue ribbon pooch; a show pony that ALMOST left the stable for good, only to return by what seemed to feel like a bounty hunter. She had no idea the situation she had landed herself into.
She lowered her glass, refused a doughy processed cinnamon roll and retreated to the guest bathroom where she turned on the hottest water available in the small shower, pulled a clean towel, stripped off her travel clothes and stepped inside. She had never seen body wash soap before, only bar soap, and the scent transported her as she let the scalding water wash her scalp and shoulders, allowing the built up sorrow of loneliness to flow as tears, hidden in the scent of lavender body wash.
She was not resentful, she had just never seen that kind of love and possession before in her life.
After the purifying shower and a brief nap, she quietly loaded her things into her convertible and left a note on the kitchen counter.
THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING. I AM ANXIOUS TO MAKE THE REST OF THE JOURNEY TO TEXAS DURING THE DAYLIGHT. YOU HAVE A LOVELY HOME AND A LOVELY LIFE. I WILL BE IN TOUCH TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I FINISHED MY JOURNEY TO DALLAS SAFELY.
I AM SO GRATEFUL THAT YOU ARE ALL RESTING SOUNDLY AND HAPPILY. ALL OF THIS MAKES ME SMILE.
She tiptoed through the front door to her car. The collie never barked, but pushed it’s nose into her hand as she quietly turned the door knob.
In the driveway, Dovey placed her left foot on the clutch to roll away from the driveway in silence, then popped the clutch and eased the car into first gear. The privacy gate responded to the electric eye and opened wide. The sun was higher now and sprinklers were arcing across the landscape. She could smell the water in the desert heat. Once through the gate, she found a gas station, filled her tiny tank, grabbed a canned Coke and eased out onto the freeway. Abilene, and the ranch where she was raised, were only 7 hours away.
She knew.
She knew she would stop there.
Want to come along? Where to listen:
