Dawn Patrol

15

Except when he gets out to the street, a tow truck just about has its hook into the Boonemobile.

The Boonemobile is Boone's van, an '89 Dodge that the sun, wind, and salt air have turned to an indiscriminate, motley splatter of colors and lack thereof.

Despite its modest appearance, the Boonemobile is a San Diego icon that Boone has used to carry him to a few thousand epic surfing sessions. Ambitious young chargers have been known to cruise the Pacific Coast Highway, scanning the beach parking lots for the Boonemobile to learn what break its owner is hitting that day. And there is no doubt among the greater San Diego beach community that the van, when it goes to its inevitable and well-deserved rest, will find a home in the surf museum up in Carlsbad.

Boone doesn't care about any of that; he just loves his van. He has lived in it on long road trips and when he didn't have the scratch to rent an apartment. What Fury was to Joey, what Silver was to the Lone Ranger, that's what the Boonemobile is to Boone.

And now a tow truck operator is trying to sink his hook into it.

“Yo, whoa!” Boone yells. “What's up?”

“You missed two payments,” Tow Truck Guy says, bending down to fix the hook under the van's front bumper. He wears a red ball cap with aSAN DIEGO WRECK AND TOWING logo, a dirty, grease-stained orange jump-suit, and brown steel-toed work boots.

“I haven't missed any payments,” Boone says, placing himself between the hook and the van. “Okay, one.”

“Two, dude.”

“I'm good for it,” Boone says.

Tow Truck Guy shrugs, like, Not so far you ain't good for it. Boone looks like he's going to cry as Tow Truck Guy starts to tighten the chain. You put the hook on the Boonemobile, he thinks, it might not be able to take the strain.

“Stop!”

Petra's voice freezes Tow Truck Guy in his tracks. Then again, Petra's voice could freeze a polar bear in its tracks.

“If,” she pronounces, “you damage this rare vintage automobile by as much as a scratch, I'll keep you in litigation until you are no longer capable of recalling exactly why your personal and professional life is in such a shambles.”

“‘Rare vintage automobile’?” Tow Truck Guy laughs. “It's a piece of shit.”

“In which case, it is a rare vintage piece of shit,” Petra says, “and unless you are in possession of the appropriate seizure orders, I shall have you arrested for grand theft auto.”

“The papers are in my truck.”

“Kindly go fetch them?”

Tow Truck Guy kindly goes and fetches them. He hands them to Petra and stands there nervously while she peruses them.

“They seem to be in order,” she says. She pulls her checkbook out of her purse and asks, “How much is owed?”

Tow Truck Guy shakes his head. “No checks. He writes checks.”

“Mine don't bounce,” Petra says.

“Says you.”

She gives him the full benefit of the withering glare to which Boone has become so quickly accustomed. “Don't get cheeky with me,” she says. “Simply enlighten me as to the required amount and we shall all be on our separate ways.”

Tow Truck Guy is tough. “My boss told me, ‘Don't take a check.’”

Petra sighs. “Credit card?”

“His?”This strikes Tow Truck Guy as pretty funny.

“Mine.”

“I'll have to call it in.”

She hands him her cell phone. Five minutes later, Tow Truck Guy has driven off and the cold sweat of terror has evaporated from Boone's face.

“I must say, I'm shocked,” Petra says.

“That I'm behind in the payments?”

“That you have payments. ”

“Thanks for what you did,” Boone says.

“It's coming out of your fee.”

“I'll write you a receipt,” Boone says as he settles himself into the comforting familiarity of the well-worn driver's seat, the upholstery of which is held together by strips of duct tape. “So you think this is a rare vintage automobile?”

“It's a piece of shit,” Petra says. “Now may we please go and collect Ms. Roddick?”

That would be good, Boone thinks.

“Collecting” Tammy Roddick would be really good.

Epic macking good.