Falsetto

Falsetto

As in:

By ten o’clock, after she’d savored her coffee and enjoyed a breakfast burrito at the Snow Cap Drive In in Seligman, Amanda was no longer feeling quite so turbid. She was still feeling a little nonplussed, however, on account of being unable to reach either Rick or Elsie on their cell phones.

There was a good reason for this. On account of their agreed upon rule to avoid the interstate highway system whenever possible, her traveling companions (plus Caleb and his Labrador, Amigo) were still traversing gravel and unshouldered black top across the Coconino Plateau. They were hours from the nearest cell phone tower.

“If this is not the middle of nowhere,” Caleb observed wistfully. “Then I don’t know where else we’d be.”

In the meantime, Amigo had fallen in love with Elsie to the point where she could only briefly stop the dog from licking her face by giving it nuggets from the bag of flavored Snyder’s pretzel bits. And even this tactic had unintended consequences.

“Yum, Els,” Jake observed with mock enthusiasm, “your face now smells like honey mustard and onion. And dog breath. For some reason, it’s making me crave cold Mexican beer.”

“I feel like singing some Jimmie Dale Gilmore for ya,” Caleb said, as he tried to restrain Amigo once again. “Just on account of how much I appreciate you all for giving us a lift.”

Rick looked at Jake. Jake looked at Rick.

Impervious to the social cues that his singing was not necessarily improving the group’s morale, Caleb started in on “Where you Going,” in a falsetto voice that made Patrick’s eyes bulge and incited Amigo to howling.

As Caleb got to the second verse, the Vue reached the steep banks of the Havasu River.

Rick went for the brakes and then pulled the car off the road.

“I need a hike,” he announced. “And Elsie, you need a good bath.”