Stupid kid better watch her manners, never live to make 20,000 miles. Maybe he should have given her a lesson, burnt off a tire, perhaps. Oh, well. He had a long way to drive. Let someone else play teacher.
He became quiet and watchful as he left Santa Ana and entered the Irvine area. There was little commuter traffic here • and only a few harmless beachers this early in the day. He saw only one car in the Cad’s class and that was an old yellow Thunderhood. Wasn’t sure whether or not to be disappointed or relieved as he pulled into the San Clemente rest stop for breakfast. He could have eaten at home but preferred to slip out without waking MyrTle. He’d have a couple of eggs, some toast and jam, and enjoy a view of the Pacific along with his coffee despite the low clouds which had been rolling in for the last twenty minutes. He hoped it wouldn’t rain, even though rain would cut the heat. Weather was one reason he always avoided the safer but longer desert routes. Thundershowers inland were forecast and even the best tactical driver could be outmatched in a heavy downpour. He preferred to be in a situation where his talents could operate without complications wished on him by nature.
48
Why Johnny Can’t Speed
A few warm drops, fat and heavy, hit him as he left the diner. It had grown much darker and the humidity was fierce. Still, Irvine was behind him now. Best to make speed down to Diego and get home before dark.
He had only the well-policed Camp Pendleton lanes ahead and then the near-deserted Oceanside to La Jolla run before he’d hit any real traffic again. Contrary to early predictions, the California population had spread inland instead of along the largely state-owned coast. If he’d had sense to buy that hundred acres near Mojave before the airport had gone in there…