The Case Of The Good-For-Nothing Girlfriend. Mabel Maney

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      “Girls, did you know that today we’ll be traveling through some of the finest scenery in the country?” Cherry chirped cheerfully. She checked her sturdy nurse’s watch. It was just after eight a.m. They had been on the road for about an hour.

      “In another four hours, we’ll be crossing the Rocky Mountains, one of the world’s main mountain systems. That will be the perfect time for us to stop and have a nourishing lunch and stretch our legs while viewing some of the most spectacular scenery in all of America! Aren’t you excited, Midge?”

      Midge, who was curled up on the passenger side of the front seat with her eyes closed, just smiled.

      “We’ll miss the Grand Tetons,” Cherry continued, “We’re too far south, and we shouldn’t really take the time to go out of our way. It’s really a shame, though, don’t you think? I’ve always wanted to see them, haven’t you?”

      Midge groaned, which Cherry took as a yes. Who in her right mind, if given the opportunity, wouldn’t want to see such a sight?

      Cherry made a mental note to send her mother a picture postcard showing the spectacular scenery from this strange and enchanting land. Funny, when she had called her mother just a half hour before, she had received no answer. Oh, well! It was a lovely Idaho day, and her mother was probably out tending her rose bushes before the summer sun got too high in the sky.

      “Look! There’s a meadowlark!” Cherry called out in excitement, pointing at a yellow-breasted bird flying overhead, while taking care to keep one eye on the road. It would never do for them to have another car mishap like the one they had had yesterday, for that repair had taken all but thirty dollars of their car-trip kitty. Thirty dollars would be plenty for meals and gasoline, for the girls planned to drive all day and all night until they reached Illinois. “We’ll be fine, barring any unforeseen disasters,” Cherry thought.

      Cherry was positive they’d have no more trouble like the day before. Seeing the meadowlark was a good sign, she thought with a smile. “It’s the official state bird of Wyoming, and, despite its name, it’s not really a lark at all,” she informed her traveling companions. “It’s a blackbird, although it does live in the meadows, just like a lark. I guess you could say they’re not related, but they are neighbors,” she chuckled.

      “I sure could use some coffee from that thermos,” Cherry hinted to Midge. “There’s nothing better than a cup of good, hot coffee drunk outdoors,” she added. “Don’t you think? Midge? Are you listening?”

      “Don’t I think what?” Midge grumbled sleepily. Midge had gotten up at six a.m. with the rest of them, and stayed awake just long enough to gulp down a cup of black coffee, smoke a cigarette, and, using tape from Cherry’s first-aid kit, alter the letters of Nancy’s license plate so as to throw the police off their trail. Then she had sacked out in the front seat.

      Cherry peeked in the rearview mirror. Why, everyone’s asleep, she realized with a start. “They’re going to miss this glorious morning,” she thought. Using the car horn, she merrily tapped out the first verse of the Wyoming State Song. That did the trick! “They’ll thank me for this later,” Cherry told herself as her sleepy chums jumped awake.

      “Cherry wants a cup of coffee,” Midge muttered to Velma as she suddenly sat up. Velma was sitting in the back seat behind Midge, and the box containing the thermos, paper cups, and a sack of oranges—a gift from that nice mechanic, Mel—was at her feet.

      “And an orange, too, if you don’t mind. Peeled and split into sections. You’ll find a clean handkerchief in my purse right next to you on the seat, Midge. You can put the orange on that,” Cherry added.

      “And an orange, too,” Midge crabbed. “Peeled and split into sections. You’ll find a clean handkerchief in her purse. You can—”

      Velma pinched her girlfriend. “Perhaps I’d better sit up front and let old sleepyhead stay back here,” Velma proposed.

      Midge readily agreed. “You come up here first,” she said, as she rubbed the sore spot on her arm.

      Before Cherry could stop the car so the two girls could trade places safely, Velma tossed the thermos of coffee over the seat, then hiked up her skirt and slip, too, straddled the seat, and swung right into Midge’s lap.

      Midge put her arms around her girl and buried her face in the bosom of Velma’s soft sweater. “Can I just stay like this until we get to Illinois?” she murmured happily.

      Velma smiled and ran a hand through Midge’s hair. “That would suit me just fine,” she answered dreamily. She gave Midge a long, lingering kiss. Midge moaned.

      Cherry turned bright red. “Golly, Midge, in some states, it’s against the law for three adults to ride in the front seat of a car,” she explained. “And I haven’t my Road Guide to State Motoring Laws with me. We don’t want to call any attention to ourselves, remember?” Cherry reminded them. “Besides,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “Do you think it’s good for children to see people kissing?” She peeked in her rearview mirror. Lauren was sitting straight up and staring at the cooing couple with big bug eyes and the queerest expression on her face.

      Midge groaned and gave her girlfriend one last kiss before taking her place in the back seat. “Wake me when we get to Illinois,” she said miserably as she tried to make herself comfortable between Nancy, who was leaning on the car door and staring off into space with a sad look in her eyes, and Lauren, who was taking up more than her share of the seat. “I’ll just sleep until then,” Midge announced.

      “That’s silly, Midge,” Cherry scolded in a light tone. “Why, there’s plenty to do until then. We could see how many meadowlarks we could spot; I’ve already seen one so far. Or we could play the license plate game. That’s where you try to spot cars from different states. Whoever spots the most variety wins,” she explained eagerly.

      “But there aren’t many cars on the road,” Lauren pointed out.

      Cherry realized Lauren was right. Except for that brown car that had been keeping a steady distance behind them since they had left Pocatello, she had seen no other automobiles that morning.

      “We could sing songs,” Cherry proposed brightly. “When I was a Girl Scout, we always sang songs to pass the time. I could teach you one,” she offered eagerly. “Does that sound like fun, Nancy?” Cherry asked her chum.

      But Nancy said nothing. She just gave a great big sigh and turned her head toward the car door.

      “I think that sounds like a grand idea, Cherry!” Velma cried when she saw how crestfallen Cherry was by Nancy’s lack of enthusiasm.

      “Teach us a song, Cherry,” Midge chimed in. “But first, pass me that thermos, babe,” she said to Velma. She filled a paper cup with the steamy, hot liquid, took a big sip, and said, “Okay, Cherry. Let’s hear it.”

      In a clear, high voice, Cherry began singing a traveling tune. Soon her chums were singing merrily as they sped through western Wyoming. Everyone, that is, except Nancy who sat silently as if she were in another world—a world far removed from the gay little group.

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