Chapter 12: Gene Gets Confused

"See that shoppe over there?"

"Which one? Marty's Bikers Boutique?" motioned Julia.

"Yup. I'll go purchase some biker-esque clothing, and then I'll slowly begin to infiltrate their gang. I'll start out as a runner...you know like plankton in the food chain. Then I'll eventually get promoted to a middle manager type and finally become a leader within the organization. At that point, I will command the other bikers to give their cycles to you (and an extra one for me) and I can make a run for it. I'll jump on their hog, yellin' SO LONG SUCKERS!!!"

Julia looked perturbed. "What in the hell are you talking about? This plan B will take years of planning and deception. I like the idea of using one as a baseball bat far better. Do you have any plans that won't take as long and don't involve direct confrontation?"

"Well, plans H and W are similar to that. With plan H, I don't know where we can get any duct tape around here. And I don't know if Safeway has guavas in season..."

At this point, our quiet friend Gene was a gettin' mighty fed up. An' there wuz a two days of journey left fer San Francisca by foot. Those Duke boys were in fer a big surprise; cuzin Gene had a few tricks up his sleeves yet.

"The way people get places is this," Gene chimed in, battling a migraine. "First, you identify where you're currently at. Then, you find out where you need to go. Finally, you decide how to get from where you are now, to the place you need to go."

"Good point," noted the driver. "I too subscribe to this epiphany of yours. For many years (as a taxi driver) I have tried to put into words what you have just said."

Gene was acting more ambitious than ever. "We are in Berkeley. We are trying to get to San Francisco." He then proudly walked over to the nearest Internet kiosk and booked airplane tickets through Expedia.com. They offer great deals at discount prices, thought Gene (after accepting a kickback from an unnamed source - Editor).

After the 3 mile hike back to the others, Gene announced, "Great news, I've booked a flight from here to San Francisco!"

"Great news," mimicked the driver, "I flagged down a cab and the driver happens to be my old college buddy."

"You do realize that Berkeley is only 13.02 miles from San Francisco?" asked Julia. "You should really check out www.mapquest.com...they offer great route planning at no charge."

With that, they all piled into the green tinged Ford Taurus and began to watch that little LED screen thingy as it began to count up. They exchanged uncomfortable glances with the driver (Chuck was his name). Chuck touched on the weather, slapped on some Def Leppard, and hit on Julia. It was a very typical cab ride (except for running over the toll guy). Just as Chuck was about to detail cirrus versus cumulonimbus clouds (he was college educated after all), they arrived near Pier 36 in San Francisco.

"Robin Williams has got to be around here somewhere," muttered Gene.

"Why is Gene muttering?" stammered Julia.

"How did I get stuck paying the cab fare?" sputtered the driver. He gave Chuck a twenty and Chuck drove off back towards the East Bay. The driver looked on in horror as the Ford Taurus plunged into the ocean. I can never recover that twenty now, thought the driver.

Stranded at Pier 36, three away from Pier 39, Gene was again coming up with a plan to meet up with Robin Williams and then return to his homeland in Ghana (the Irish part). Then it began to rain. Water from the heavens, thought Gene. Then the thunder and lightning began. Light by which to travel, thought Gene. Then a stray dog paused to shit near his feet. What is this significance of this, thought Gene.

As Gene was thinking, Julia and the driver were running for the shelter of Pier 39.

[Side note: Pier 39 is a major tourist attraction in San Francisco. They have a few eateries, a few shops, a few street performers, a few seals, an arcade, and insufficient parking. Two other items of note 1.) That aquarium is a total gyp; don't waste your time. 2.) He is not a robot; the sound is from a noisemaker hidden in his mouth.]

Gene was starting to tire. All this thinking has got me beat, thought Gene. When he came to, he caught a glimpse of Julia running away from him in the torrential downpour. After approximately 14 seconds of processing, he followed.

Julia and the driver had just ducked under the awning to a Russian bakery when the rain stopped. Unfortunately, Gene was looking into the rain and didn't see them.

"I hope Gene catches up with us," mentioned Julia. "Now the task at hand is to find Robin Williams."

"Why are we trying to find Robin Williams again?" queried the driver.

Julia was just about to answer with confidence when a tourist (from Latvia) poked in.

"Did you say you are looking for Robin Williams?" he asked in near perfect English.

"Yes. We absolutely have to find him. I need some information from him (and I need to ask him why he has been associated with so many bombs recently - Jakob the Liar, Patch Adams, and Bicentennial Man come to mind)."

"Yeah, okay," quoth the Latvian.

"So...you have some information on Robin Williams, or what?" asked an expectant Julia (not in the pregnant sense).

"No. I was just curious if you were looking for him. I thought I overheard you ask about him. Robin Williams, funny guy. I watched his HBO special in the hotel."

"Well thanks for nothin'," jabbed Julia. She was beginning to wonder why the Latvian tourist was even in this story. After all, the guy seemingly had no purpose. He was definitely not integral to moving the plot along. It was almost as if the author had run out of things to say. Very strange...

Gene had just reached Pier 41 when he realized his initial calculations were incorrect. He subtracted two (from his previously summed total) and managed to track down the other semi-protagonists.

"Hey, who was that Latvian you were just talking to?"

"He doesn't know where Robin Williams is, so what does it matter?"

The all reflected on the last two sentences they had uttered. They would never be spoken in succession again in the history of the English language. A strange silence passed over the group and then Julia had a brilliant idea.

She withheld the idea from the group, because it was so fantastic that she had to revel in its glory. Why hadn't they thought of this before? Gene can't even fathom this idea. The driver (why do I keep referring to him this way?) might be able to come up with this, but I did it first. Then, she adjusted her bra strap and spoke...

Continue on to the next chapter, following Julia's plotline...
Continue on to the next chapter, following the original storyline...