Rod Stewart in Mexico

John Yohe

The southbound bus on Highway 1 to Cabo dropped him at a dirt road with no sign heading east at sundown. The driver got his backpack out of the bottom storage area and the man dragged it off to the edge of the road. Passengers stared out the window at him. The driver smiled.

The man asked him, —Señor, ¿cuántos kilómetros à Bahía de Los Ángeles?

The driver shrugged, still smiling. —Cuarenta, tal vez cincuenta.

—Gracias.

The bus pulled away. He stood on the pavement looking after it. Then north. No traffic. No lights. Just saguaro cacti. He lifted his pack on to his shoulders and walked east down the dirt road as the stars came out and the air cooled. He walked not more than a quarter mile and found a clear sandy spot hidden off the road behind a small rise.

He took out a space blanket, spread it out. Foam pad next. Sleeping bag. He lay his pack at the top of the space blanket, took out a primus and gas canister, screwing the one on the other and standing it in the sand next to him, placing a metal cup on top and filled it with water from a liter bottle, lighting the gas, getting out a left hand leather glove and a moroccan mint teabag. Watching the flame and last light behind the hills to the west, orange pink blue cirrus clouds off probably over the Pacific. Around him rose boojums—cactus unique to Baja, given the english name from the poem ‘The Hunting of the Snark’ by Lewis Carrol. The man didnt know why. Long huge elephant trunks rising fifteen to twenty feet, light green, with small, very small, curved ‘branches’ only one or two inches all over.

The water boiled. He put on the glove, turned off the primus and put in the tea bag, dipping it a couple times. A light breeze from the southwest. He stood, took the cup in his hand, walked back to the dirt road sipping slowly turning looking in all directions. No lights but stars. Mostly clear sky, The Star River glowing. Bird chirps—cactus wrens. Bats flapping overhead. He tossed up small pebbles to attract them. Coyote howls to the west.

When done w/his tea he returned to his spot got in his bag taking off his jacket and boots laying his head on the pack watching the stars until asleep.

In the morning he prepared another cup of tea right from his bag letting the sun rise above the hills to the east. Traffic back on the highway. Cars and semis. W/full sunlight, he got out, put on his shoes (shaking them in case of scorpions) and packed all his things, heading back to the dirt road w/pack on, walking east.

He had walked maybe two miles when he heard a vehicle coming from the west. He stuck out his right hand, thumb up and turned to face it. An SUV going fast. He stepped to the edge of the road to avoid it as it passed, seeing a group of gringo faces staring at him and smiling. The SUV skidded to a stop fifty yards up, covered in its own dust cloud. He walked fast toward it around to the driver side, tho a young woman rolled down the back passenger side window pulling herself out sitting on the door frame smiling across at him. —Hey! Do you know any Rod Stewart songs?

The man looked at her. —What?

All the young people—two boys in front, two girls in back—laughed. The young woman shook her long blonde hair spreading her arms. —You know. Rod Stewart. If you can sing us a Rod Stewart song, we/ll give you a ride.

They all stared at him. He set down his pack leaning it against his leg. He took a breath. —Wake up Maggie I think I got something to say to you!

The young people screamed.

It’s late september and I really should be back in school!

The young woman talking to him swung her arms like a conductor. —Keep going! Más! Más!

He took another breath. —I know I keep you amused but I feel I’m being abused. Oh Maggie I couldnt have tried any mo-oh-oh!

The young man driving leaned out his window. —Fuck yeah dude! Throw your pack in back and lets go!

The back hatch clacked open and lifted. The man put his pack on top of their bags and suitcases. The driver side rear door opened and he got in next to the other young woman who stared and pulled over to the other girl who put her arms around her. —This is Maggie! For real! Doesnt she look mexican? Muy guapa! I cant believe you know that song!

He leaned against the door as the vehicle sped up. —It was big back in the eighties when I was growing up. Altho I think its from the seventies.

The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror with bloodshot eyes. —Damn dude how old are you?!

—Old enough to be your father legally probably.

The kids laughed. The rubia pointed to the rest of them. —Thats Kevin driving, thats my loser boyfriend Rajit who also looks mexican and I/m Sarah. I dont look mexican.

Kevin had the vehicle up to fifty. The man grabbed the ‘oh shit’ handle above the window. —I’m Danny!

—Sing us another Rod Stewart song!

The others all cheered. —Yeah!

The man thought for a second. —Ok, uh…If you want my body, and you think I’m sexy, come on baby some-thing something!

They all screamed again. Sarah kept hugging Maggie who just stared at him. Sarah laughed. —How do you know all these?

—I mean, back when I was growing up back in Michigan, classic rock was all us white kids listened to. But, also, Rod Stewart played w/one of my favorite guitar players, Jeff Beck.

—Never heard of him!

The SUV sailed up up over a bump and bounced back down.

The man said, —Have you seen a movie called This Is Spinal Tap?

—No!

—Oh. Well the two main characters are sort of modeled on Rod Stewart and Jeff Beck. Its a comedy. A fake documentary.

—Never heard of it!

—Then how do you know who Rod Stewart is?

—They played the Maggie song at a bar down in Cabo and we became obsessed.

Maggie finally spoke. —I’ve seen Spinal Tap. It was funny.

—Danny, where you from? Michigan?

—I’m coming from LA.

—Us too! We all go to UCLA.

—What are you doing down here? Isnt the semester over?

—My dad owns a house here. We/re here celebrating. Or we were. We just got kicked out of Cabo!

—The entire town?!

Rajit looked back. —No! Our hotel! Like at four in the morning! Bastardos!

—What’d you do?

Rajit smiled. —What happens in Cabo stays in Cabo!

—Did you go to the Van Halen bar?

—Hell yeah we did!

—Do you know who Van Halen is?

—Theyre a band!

—Do you know who Sammy Hagar is?

—We went to that one too!

Sarah laughed. —We went to all the bars!

Maggie said, —I went swimming on the beach when all these guys were passed out and this huge fish swam right by me!

—Was it a shark?

—No! I dont know what it was but it scared the shit out of me!

The road climbed up thru small hills and at the top the whole bay stretched below them glowing blue surrounded by sand and rock and waving green saguaros. Kevin tore them down towards it.

—Sing us one more song before we get there!

The man smiled. —Man I dont know if I know any more Rod Stewart.

—Sing or we kick you out here!

Maggie elbowed her and Rajit turned around. —Sarah! Come on!

Sarah ignored them. —Sing! Sing for me and Maggie!

Danny thought. —Hm. Hot legs! Wearing me out! Hot legs! You can scream and shout! Hot legs! Are you still in school? I love you hon-ey!

Sarah squealed and clapped right in front of Maggie’s face. —I knew you would be interesting. Not a serial killer at all!

Kevin looked back at her. —Sarah! Jesus Christ!

—Well youre the one who said it!

Kevin looked at the man in the mirror. —Sorry dude!

Danny shrugged. —I understand.

Sarah stared at him. —But what are you doing out here?

He smiled. —Rambling. Checking out Baja. I saw this place on the map. I dont work in the winter. I was housesitting for an actor friend of mine. This is a trip before I go back north to Montana.

—I dont get it. What do you do?

—I’m a wildland firefighter. Helitack.

—Oh youre one of those guys who jumps out of planes?

—No thats smokejumpers. I go to fires in a helicopter. Sometimes we rappel out.

—Whats rappel?

—Like down a rope.

—Oh. Wow.

The car pulled into a small village and Kevin finally slowed down, their dust cloud drifting among the buildings, all mostly made of cement blocks. Kevin stopped outside a small store. —You want me to leave you here?

—Is this all there is?

He laughed. —Theres a restaurant on the way out to the gringo houses.

Sarah tapped the man’s shoulder. —We/re gonna be there tonight! You should come! Meet my parents!

—Maybe. Kevin, here’s fine. What do all the people do here? Do they fish?

—I guess? I dont know.

—Alright.

—Where are you going to stay? asked Maggie.

He opened the door and got out. —I’ll camp somewhere. Hopefully on the beach.

—Like, really?

Kevin turned around. —Maggie, duh. He’s got a backpack!

—Yeah but, I mean, alone?

—Its ok. I like to be alone.

—Dont you get lonely?

—The only time I get lonely is when I/m around people.

Maggie stared at him. Sarah pushed her off. —That doesnt make sense. But come out. We/ll be there for dinner. Its just gringos, dont worry.

The back hatch popped and opened. He got his pack and walked to Kevin. —Thank you for the ride, sir.

—De nada, amigo.

The car moved off. He stared after it. The two yong women looking back at him. He waved. They waved back.

He sighed. —Ah well.

The SUV headed south. 

The store door stood open. An old woman glared at him from inside. He left his pack outside and walked in. —Buenas dias, señora.

She glared. —Buenas.

—Una botella de agua, por favor. Sin gas.

She took a liter bottle from the shelf behind her and handed it to him. —Un dólar.

He paid an american dollar and left, saying gracias, and walked east to the water. Most buildings seemed deserted. The only other one with a door open a woman nursed a baby at a table, bare bulb overhead. He nodded hello.

The water still. To the south ran rocky hills, to the north saguaros came almost to the waters edge. The side of the bay curved around to two high points far out, the Gulf of California—open water—just visible and as flat-looking. Seagulls and crows flew in circles or hopped on the shore. Sun warm overhead. He took off his boots and rolled up his jeans. No boats or nets. Far to the south some building roofs stood out through the saguaros and palo verde trees.

He walked north on the sand. Small dead rays, like mini-mantas, lay rotting half out on the shore. He stepped over them into the water up to his calves, cutting to a sandy jetty a quarter mile north. His feet kicked up sandclouds in the water, sending crabs skittering away. He sang. —To-night’s the night! Everything’s gonna be alright!