Choose a character from a selection on our reading list whose point of view is not reflected by the narrator, and tell the story (or some part of it) from this character’s perspective.

(From "Rock Springs" by Richard Ford):  ford_rock-springs.pdf

"Hit the Road Earl, and Don't You Come Back No More..."

     I first met Earl in the parking lot of the liquor store that sits down on the corner of my block. He was stepping out of a van that looked as if it had been driven through a war zone, and there was a tiny blonde girl, whose head I could barely see, sitting in the passenger seat. Some small-sounding breed of dog was yipping away inside, but out of sight. The man seemed a bit lost and confused. His face looked weary. I saw some wisps of white smoke rising from under the van's hood. It smelled of bad oil. We both got to the ABC entrance at the same time, and he held the door open for me to go in first. I admire that in a man. It's not a courtesy I'm used to, that's for sure. Having just recently rid myself of son-of-a-bitch husband Danny, (or so I thought), there wasn't a need for another man right then. Last thing I needed, really. But that's the way my luck runs. There's always some sad stray tomcat crossing my path at the wrong time.

     I might have gotten away from this one. But then, up at the counter, and in front of me in line, I learned he was just a little short of the funds he needed for his bourbon. “Here, let me get it” I offered, handing him a couple quarters. He thanked me, sort of sheepishly, then headed outside. But of course, when I left a few moments later, he was standing on the sidewalk waiting for me. “I appreciated that, sweetie... my name is Earl” he said and smiled. “Hey Earl. I'm Edna. I haven't seen you around here before” I heard myself reply. And that was that. Before I knew it the little girl was surrendering her seat for me in the van, and we were all headed back to my place for supper.

     That was eight months ago. Earl, his daughter Cheryl, and their dog Little Duke moved in a couple days after that first encounter. I had mixed feelings about it, but they needed somebody. And it was a good way to keep my prick ex-husband from looting the house when I was at work. That was some fun, scaring the shit out of Danny with my made-up history of Earl: I told him that Earl had killed a man in Florida. Wasn't bothered too much by Danny after that, or the kids. That's another thing; Earl didn't mind my drinking, and in fact loved to drink too. I never got any lectures like before, and little Cheryl stayed pretty much out of our way. Earl worked from time to time, and chipped in on the rent. He hinted around about his legal troubles occasionally, seemed nervous and antsy some days, but overall was fun to be with. A funny drinking buddy, good in bed, nice to his little girl... I was happy.

     Yesterday when I got home I knew something was different. He was pacing around, and already had food on the stove, which he normally waited for me to do. Earl didn't even bother to work up to it but just went ahead and blurted it out. He said, “Let's go to Tampa, baby. I talked to an old friend down there and he's got some work for me and a place we can stay. Sure would be a nice change from this damn weather around here”.

     Well, why the hell not, I thought, surprising myself. I don't have the kids around to worry about anymore. Danny's nothing but a pain in the ass, even though now it's just by telephone. Might bring some new luck my way. “Why not? My datebooks not that full” I said to him. It sounded like fun, and maybe even an adventure. But then I saw that piece-of-shit van through the window. “We're not going in that, are we?” I asked. “Oh no, babe” he replied. “I'll take care of that in the morning. We're going to ride in style”. After that we had supper, then Earl put Cheryl to bed. We then drank and watched some TV, and hit the sack early ourselves.

     When I woke up this morning, Earl had a dark red Mercedes parked in the driveway, and already had his and Cheryl's stuff packed in the back compartment. “And here we go”, I thought to myself. Where the hell did he find this ride, and did I really want to know? (No, I didn't). We left the apartment, where most of the furniture didn't belong to me anyway. The rent due I'd deal with later, if at all. I suggested that we stop by the liquor store to stock up for the road, and then we were off... It was as we were leaving Montana that my fantasy began. I kept looking back at Cheryl, Earl's sweet little girl, and imagining the life she'd had with her father so far. Such a meek little thing, and that dog that stayed with her no matter what. It somehow brought back my own maternal instincts. What kind of chance did she have with this damaged but lovable buffoon? Not very much...

     Don't get me wrong, I loved Earl. A good man, better than most I'd known. But when that goddamned oil light came on, my hunch was confirmed. Sometimes the signs are there. This man was a born failure, despite his best intentions. Cheryl and I hadn't formed much of a bond yet; I don't think she even liked me... but it seemed obvious that nothing good would ever come her way if she stayed with her father.

     I knew how to play this. Earl offered me a choice that night, when I freaked out on him after the Mercedes died: a bus ticket back to Montana. He laid the cash for the fare on the motel room table, then went outside for a cigarette (just like my dreams- up in smoke). There was zero hope in me now that we'd make it to Florida. Once again, I had let myself get tangled up with a loser. It was time to bail...

     I watched him in the motel parking lot; the last time I ever saw him in action. He was scouting around for the next ride to take him and his daughter on their way. It made me so sad. Not sure of what compelled me, I had asked for the earliest bus for the next morning. Earl was asleep, there in the last couple hours before dawn. His daughter Cheryl was too. I picked her up gently, and carried her down to the curb where the bus was loading. My destination? Undecided. We got on, settled into a seat, and were a couple hundred miles away before she or her dad ever woke up.