Right now though, Ah know Ah’m too drunk tae drive, so we need to get tae open road as
quick as we can fur Ami’s sake. Unfortunately the GPS is tellin me that it’s practically city
for miles here, aw the way intae Kentucky, if we want tae keep headin south towards New
Orleans. Ah choose a random direction, back east, and there’s open roads that way. Ah start
barkin directions at Ami, listenin out for the sound ov the polis the whole time. We scoot
through dimly lit streets in some kind ov industrial area and Ah hear sirens several streets
over. Mebbe they are lookin for us. We double back on ourselves, headin for some bit called
Mariemont now, and go underneath the highway. Ah’m worrying about petrol cos Ah can see
the needle is still pointin tae empty on the fuel gauge, but there’s no way we can pull the
Porsche intae a petrol station because she’ll be recognised. Ah wonder if there’s a petrol can
in the boot, so Ah could at least get twae cans fu from somewhere in this sprawl ov towns
aroun Cincinnati that will at least get us out ov the built up area and back ontae the open road.
Ah reckon there’s a guid chance we can get away wi using an all night garage outside ov the
We pass an open garage and Ah tell Ami tae pull over intae a nearby backstreet where
there are no street lights. Ah get out, digging about in mah jaicket for mah ain cheap shite
wee mobile and Ah take the keys so Ah can hav a look in the boot ov the car. Ah have tae
use the screen on my mobile tae see inside the boot, and Ah find, much tae mah surprise, that
it’s fu ov stuff. There’s a petrol can awright, and the spare tyre and jack are still in there too,
which seems reasonable enuff. Whit’s mair surprisin is that there’s a whale load ov claes in
there. They might well be Janis’s ane. There is also some kind ov metal lock box in there an
aw, and Ah discover the key for it is mixed in wi the car keys. Ah’m about tae open it tae see
whit’s inside when a distant siren reminds me Ah dinnae really hav time jist now. Ah realise
there could also be other interestin’ stuff buried under all the mess in there. Makes me
wonder for a second why naebody has ever cleaned it out before. We’ve got to get movin
here, Ah can look later.
Ah grab the other petrol can and close the boot, then head fur the petrol station wi the two
cans and mah mobile clutched in mah hand. Ah’ve got about $50 in mah back pocket , which
is way mair as Ah’ll need. Ah wonder if they sell whiskey in garages here.
Standin in the flood lights ov the petrol station forecourt, Ah feel uncomfortably
conspicuous fillin up the petrol cans. Ah can practically feel the eyes ov the station attendant
boring intae me as he stares listlessly out ov the big windows ov the shop. Inside, Ah grab
some food, corn chips and sandwiches, and several cans o vodka mixers since they don’tseem
tae sell bottles ov whisky here, lame bastards. The wee gadge behind the counter gies me a
strange look, but he gets the 2 packs ov Lucky Strike Ah ask for and he tots everything up
wi’out a wurd, so Ah guess he disnae really care aw that much. Ah try very, very fuckin hard
to stay casual as a polis cruiser goes wailin by the petrol station while Ah stan there waitin for
him tae deal wi it aw. Ma mobile disnae make a noise though, so Ah have tae hope that Ami
is still sittin quiet and safe up that dark alley. The polis sirens fade intae the distance again,
Ah breathe a quiet sigh ov relief, but there’s still a lingerin tension in me until Ah see Ami
sittin with the car again.
Ami has her route aw worked out now, so as soon as Ah’ve got the two cans ov petrol
intae the tank, we’re headin out ov the city at top speed. When Ah crack open yin ov the
vodka mixers, Ami gies me a bit ov an arch look.
“Ah take it ye’re no plannin on drivin again the night then,” She says. Ah gie her a wee
guilty grimace frae oer the top ov the can.
“Ah wis thinking we’d pull the car up somewhere tae sleep, tae be honest. Ah suppose that
might be risky wi all the polis efter us again now,”
“We’ll see how it gauns, they seem tae have nae idea at aw where we are anyway, they’re
jist roamin the streets.” She answers wi a sigh. She no keen, that’s fur sure.
It seems we’ve got a great big fuckin slice ov luck on our side, cuz we get out ontae the
open road wi’out any mair run ins wi the polis. We make our way back tae the highway
again, much further down the road than Cincinnati and we start the long road through
Kentucky to Tennessee. We’re in the South now, below the old MasonDixon
line as they call it.
It’s been naggin at mah brain fur a whiles noo that we must need mair petrol, but the
needle on the petrol gauge didnae seem tae move at aw when Ah fed tye Porsche they cans
earlier, and we’ve been drivin fur hours since then. She’s an old car though, so it’s likely that
she’s got some wee issues, but it daes mean Ah hav tae guess at when we’re gaunae need mair
fuel fur her. An hour out ov Ohio we pull intae a run down all night garage, makin sure the
Porsche is parked well out ov the flickerin, dim lights ov the forecourt.
For the second time that night Ah’m havin tae play it cool in a petrol station, but thankfully
the station attendant is so spaced out because ov the time ov night that she barely even
registers us when we go in. We’re baith reekin ov petrol too, because the tank overflowed
while Ami was fillin her frae the pump an Ah still smell ov the stuff Ah sloshed oer myself
back on the highway earlier. There’s no booze ov any kind on sale in the garage. Ah reckon
Ami is secretly happy about that. Ah have lapses ye see, and while she never tells me aff fur
it, she gets disapointit when Ah drink like Ah have been since we switched seats in the car.
Ah’ll make it up to her. We drive for another hour, ending up surrounded by forest on baith
sides and finally decide tae stop. Before Ah try an go to sleep though Ah want a proper look
in the boot. Ah want to know whit’s in that box.
Ami’s as curious as Ah am about the boot, and as soon as Ah open it she’s rifling through
the claes. There’s the odd pair ov sandals in there, all strappy an minimal and wan pair ov
big old chunky boots with a blocky heel. The claes are all outrageously hippy and colourful,
there’s scarves in every colour ye can think ov an big flowy, flowery tops and long skirts and
baggy flared trousers. So fuckin’ 60’s, so fuckin Janis. They have tae be hers. Ami drags out
aw the purples and starts wrappin a big long, velvety scarf aroun hersel. Purple is her
favourite colour, while Ah’m usually mair ov a black and nothing but kinda bint. That said,
Ah spot a beautiful embroidered waist coat in gold and red that Ah put on, and Ami wraps a
red and gold scarf roun me tae go wi it. There’s a feather headdress
thing like somethin frae the 1920’s in there too, but neither ov us want tae wear that even though it is kinda cool.
Then Ah find the right key on the key ring and open the box. Fuck me, it’s a shock tae see
“Coo Elle!!” Ami exclaims as we stare in disbelief at the contents of it. It’s like a super
sized medicine box, wi lots ov wee compartments with lots ov wee interesting packages.
Amoung they packages are sheets ov printed blottin paper wi covered wi wee cartoon
Janis’s. We baith know they are supposed tae be sheets ov Acid. Also there’s a real fuckin
salt shaker fu ov white powder that definitely isnae salt, jist like the wan Roal Duke has in
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Ah’ll bet ma life it’s coke in there. There’s bottles ov pills
in every colour quaaludes, vallies, amphetamines and others Ah have nae idea about.
There’s bags ov grass and little pellet shaped things, which Ah wis guessin wis mescaline.
There wis even bottles ov whisky, rum and tequilla. Ah think Hunter S Thompson must have
left his stash in the back ov Janis’s car. Ah’ve never seen a collection ov drugs like this except
for in Terry Gilliam’s film. Shit, it’s a LOT ov drugs. Ah wonder if it’s worth mair time in
the slammer as Grand Theft Auto. There’s no fuckin way we could claim we had nothin tae
do wi this if we get caught wi the car, they jist wouldnae believe it had been sittin there in the
car aw the time it’s been sittin in the Rock an Roll Hall of Fame. No fuckin way. Holy shit,
whit dae we dae wi aw this?
Keep your eyes out for Part Six next week.