The Ryan Rescue Mission-Part 2

The Ryan Rescue Mission-part 2

*First a note of retraction: In my part one of this Blog, I said it was six months that Ryan was absent from Florida. Thank goodness for fact-checkers. The time period was actually 3 months and two weeks.

Second note of caution: The names in this Blog have not been changed to protect anyone or for any other reason. Why? Because I think after reading this, there are a very select few who will actually believe this.

My friend Tammy, who is a buyer of mechanical parts, has this odd and uncanny ability, which I, here-to-fore, hadn't recognized. She has a way of convincing you to do something (with her) that she feels compelled to do. That's powerful in and of itself. But then, somehow, she has a way of finessing you, so that you believe it's your idea.  Which, as I'm writing this, makes me wonder why she isn't making a whole lot more money, than she's currently paid.

 This is important to the plot line, because after several more phone calls to Janice/Ryan (and not speaking with Ryan) and attempts to other members of the family falling fruitless, Tammy and I had schemed and talked for four days. On Thursday night, we're at Panera bread, once again doing the "what should we do, dance", when, without my consent, it fell from my brain, on to my tongue and out of my mouth; Just like a gumball.

 "Well, then we pretty much have to go rescue him, don't we? We don't really have a choice."

 Immediately leaving Panera Bread, we went to Tire Kingdom to get an oil change for the trip.

 We befriended a man named Nick, who still wants to be informed about the results of our mission.

The trip to Tire Kingdom resulted in nearly $400 worth of work on the car and a later disaster, which, as I type this is still being resolved. It has resulted in the engine seizing up.  Remember that was Tire Kingdom.

 We were informed by Nick that the car (which Tammy invested $400 in for the oil change, tire change Tire-realignment and some other things) would not make it to Alabama, because of the brakes.

 This, I think of as a grievous error in judgment on my part. Thrice titled Brevard County's Best Psychic by Florida Today newspaper,  I confess, sometimes my insight is uncanny. This, however was not one of those nights. Tammy asked if we should borrow her mother's Camry (or as Tammy loves to call it, the Great American-Land Yacht) or should we take her car. I said her car, because it would be better on gas. Tammy then said that she should get an oil change before she went, I pointed out Tire Kingdom as we were leaving to prepare for the adventure. 

In the light of Nick's information to us, we drove (Nearly an hour' s drive my area of Melbourne) to Tammy's mother's home to swap out cars.

After that we stopped at Tammy's home and then up to my home, we were resolved to make a fresh start in the morning.

We did try one last ditch effort to not drive the 600 some odd miles to a foreign land to rescue our friend. (well at this point, "friend" was kind of grand word for my emotions) . We'd have my husband call and see if HE could get Ryan on the phone. If Walt did, maybe we could get some viable information so we could make a viable plan. Walt is such a sport. He did call, ended up leaving a voice message that he had heard about Ryan's mother, and he was an old fishin' buddy of Ryan's and wanted to offer condolences.

 So, no voice contact from Ryan, we decided we were going to go to Ryan's mother's funeral and see if we could be some help to him.

As a side note-although it's relevant, the fact that we couldn't reach or contact Ryan we "eerily familiar to me." It's a tactic that some people with anti-social personalities use to control their prey. I had experience with such a creature.  Once, when trying to explain some of these traits to Tammy I described such beings as "dragons".   Even though they are not all the same type  of dragon (some are water dragons, some are fire dragons.). The point (for Tammy) being that if you can recognize one type of dragon, you can recognize like qualities of other  dragons. By my current count we met (at least) four dragons in our dealings in Alabama.

 So the next day (Friday) we were in the-great-American-land-yacht, guided by the "ghetto Garmin" out of Florida and into (unknown to us) the inner darkness of Lincoln, Alabama.

At this juncture in our adventure, I will tell you WHY Tammy calls the GPS the "Ghetto Garmin". She claimed that this Global Positioning System, had a propensity for guiding her through the most rag-tag, low rent and/or possibly dangerous parts of any unknown town as a part of its "getting one to the destination via the fastest route" directive.

I didn't really believe that the Garmin did this, I mean it's a computer-ish thing, right?

A trip with Tammy to Virginia/Washington DC proved me wrong.  First, I didn't realize Tammy had the aggravating habit Tammy has of both questioning and arguing with the directions given by the GPS. "Did she say turn here? I am NOT turning here, that's just stupid" . Then ten minutes down the road "I should have  turned back there.". (sighs).

But I also learned that what she said was true. The Garmin would take us through the most rancid areas of Virginia, just take us back to our hotel.

  Moving on, we made amazing time through Florida and into Georgia (where we stopped for a rest stop and photo op) and were nearly out of Georgia, when I saw something I had never seen before.

One of the longest stretches of nothing, there were rows and rows of plants with white....things on them.

 I pointed out the window and said to Tammy "I wonder what THAT is."

 Tammy responded "I think that's a cotton field."  

Forgetting we were no longer in Florida, it was out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying "No we don't have any cotton fields in....." (I stopped) "Oh right we're in Georgia".

At this point a tasteless and unpolitically correct banter ensued , all of which (we agree) would, if we in fact had our own reality show and had a camera on the dashboard...would have been summarily bleeped and X-d out. Suffice it to say, it ended with me singing some old negro spirituals I learned in grade school , about picking cotton.  Tammy , however, got bonus sin points for her remarks.

The laughing until we both almost peed tapered off and ended as we passed  Fort  Benning  ,a startling sight in the setting sun.

The Great American Ryan Rescue Mission-part1

The Ryan Rescue mission

With a rapier action that left gusts of air up to my face, Tammy pointed out my passenger side window.

Pointing into the blackest Alabama night, she proclaimed "I bet a colony of serial killers live over there!"

Trying to get into the spirit of diverting us from the endless detour we'd been following aimlessly, I offered "Then next, we'll run out of gas."

"Don't SAY that." Tammy scowled "It scares me!"

"Oh...serial killers don't scare you."

"No but, running out of gas is like something that could really happen."

I closed my mouth.  The last salvo she offered was as though she believed

that serial killers were "mythical beasts" , like trolls or unicorns.

An odd perspective (if you ask me) for someone who puts on ID channel to sleep by.

In another of the many ironic things that would occur on this trip, it happened that the road on which we were traveling  sort of looped around to Talladega prison, which meant that a colony of serial killers, murderers, rapists, thieves and probably one poor soul guilty of some con artist sceme, actually were habitating in the direction Tammy had pointed.

The "ghetto Garmin" (as Tammy affectionately calls it) had faithfully lead us up Florida, around Jacksonville, around Atlanta and into Alabama. Only to fall completely usellessly into nothingness when we needed to take a detour on State Road 21. We would later learn that the detour was due to a huge sink hole.

  Deep breaths fortified us as we pulled over to a sort of "Shop-N-Go" which Tammy deduced was in a not so savory part of town. However, when we went in, and I came back from the ladies room, a very nice woman at the register was writing down directions for Tammy. It turned out to be excellent guidance, which was substantiated by our (now) yelping Garmin to the Days in hotel we were guided to stay at, in Lincoln, Alabama.

 Six months prior, Ryan had received a call from his mother, she was terminally ill and wanted him to come to her.  To quote the song "things got bad, then things got worse", as Tammy heard from him when he arrived in Alabama and then....no more phone calls. Not only that, but he didn't return her phone calls.  Then other breaches of security involving her Sams account and  Verizon phone, left Tammy despondent and angry.

Then, in September, Tammy and I were having lunch at Steak-N-Shake, and she received a voice mail from Ryan. His mother had died. Tammy has an unfaltering sense of loyalty to family. She returned his call. After a rather acidic back and forth, Tammy was crying in the booth, only to receive another phone call...not from Ryan. This call was from Janice, the woman with whom he was living. Janice was a woman that Ryan had lived with, and with whom he had had a relationship for 25 years, prior to his coming to Florida to be with Tammy (a year before).

Ryan told Tammy that the relationship with Janice had ended 10 months prior to Tammy and him reuniting in Florida. No (apparent)Contact from Janice (and related family) for the year Tammy and Ryan were journeying through their relationship, seemed to speak that the relationship was, in fact, kaput.

--Back to the present:

The next day, after the lunch on the precipice of hell (which, surprisingly to me, happens to be in a specific booth in Steak-n-shake) Tammy approached me with some observations and concerns.

She was regretting the way she spoke to Ryan and had called and asked Janice to call her back.

I listened intently to her sad regret. But then she said something else. Her blue eyes rimmed with bitter tears, she said, "I think something's wrong there. There's something in the tone of his voice in the message he left me. I think, somehow he's stuck and can't get out.".