Chapter Two
Almost two hours later and still cruising down the same long, desolate interstate highway, Kitt felt discouraged. He had not turned up much from his data base that would help answer his questions about what plans Michael had for their 'vacation'. His search revealed that there were only 3 vacation spots in this area of the country.
The first and closest one was a place called "Last Stand". "Last Stand" is described as an 'Old West' town otherwise listed as an 'amusement park'.
"Tourist trap," Kitt quietly commented to himself. Traditionally those places are nothing but a collection of dusty over-priced so-called souvenir shops peddling such things as cowboy hats, plastic guns and worthless 'fools gold' (or more accurately known as common pebbles painted yellow). Further information accessed from public records indicate that this 'Old West' amusement park was recently updated with computer Holographic equipment.
Hmmm, not very likely, Kitt thought to himself. I can't imagine Michael wanting to play 'Jesse James' for vacation. This site is located near a high-tech computer facility known for its continued breakthroughs and accomplishments in advancing technology, noted Kitt. Now, THAT sounds more like it!
"Oh-no!" Kitt whimpered to himself. There is a nasty junk yard adjacent to that wonderful computer facility! It appears to be a deposit for cars that have been wrecked and dumped! That means there is a horrible car crusher there! Kitt could feel the fluid in his radiator steam at the thought of those poor defenseless cars being crushed to plates and blocks of mangled metal because they were simply unwanted.
Kitt turned his attention to the next amusement park listed as being located in this area. It was described as 'an African adventure experience' called Africa Alive! Further details reveal that Africa Alive! is a natural zoo for animals that would be found in Africa. A portion of the park is devoted to observing the animals in their natural state through fenced off areas from means of a guided tour bus or a dangling overhead cable-car. There also appeared to be an area for vacationers to camp-out adjacent to the enclosed safari. There appeared to be the usual souvenir shops and an indoor movie theater which shows educational nature films. Would Michael think this park would be an adventure they would both enjoy? wondered Kitt. Is this the adventure Michael spoke of?
The remaining vacation spot listed was a '6 star resort' called The Getaway. Six stars? wondered Kitt, I believe the highest rating would be 5! he thought. Public records indicate that this establishment had changed ownership only last year. At that time, several permits were issued for extensive renovations. The local newspapers report that since The Getaway opened, it has failed to turn a profit. That is not unusual for a new establishment, thought Kitt. Surely the renovations were costly, but certainly the owner would have taken that into account. Construction records show renovations to the guest suites; however, the construction of a massive health club, extensive spa and numerous high tech recreation rooms would require substantial funds. Certainly the fees for staying at this resort would be astronomical in order for the owner to turn a profit. This resort must surely be an exclusive club for the richest of the rich, concluded Kitt. Certainly, this was not a place Michael could afford to vacation.
Just as Kitt was about to delete The Getaway from his database, a newspaper advertisement caught his attention. It wasn't the attractive photos that stood out, but the delicately printed words beneath them that read:
'The Getaway,'
Truly the place to get away.
Check it out, Check in!
It's Free the first day,
After you've tried it,
We're sure you'll stay!
Considering that a free day would be in Michael's budget, Kitt reluctantly changed his mind. Then I guess I can't delete that one, Kitt concluded. I am not getting anywhere! Kitt muttered sadly.
Alert to the fast approaching weather-worn billboard Kitt became aware that they were approaching an Interstate exit. Most likely the exit Michael had intended to take. It was the only billboard on this road Kitt had seen in the past 2 hours. According to the billboard, this was the exit to take to go to the Last Stand Old West Amusement Park, Kontec Computing Company and Institute, Jakes' Pit Stop Gas 'n Go, Willie's Car Dump & Used parts and Dora's Homestyle Eats Diner. Kitt sincerely hoped they were headed toward the computer company.
"Michael," said Kitt quietly, "We are there."
Michael stirred slowly, rubbing his eyes and sat up.
"Michael, are you awake now?" Kitt asked calmly.
"Yes, Kitt, I'm awake now," Michael answered while re-adjusting his seat to the driving position.
He looked around and smiled, recognizing his surroundings.
"Great! Thanks, Kitt! I'll take it from here, old buddy" said Michael, pressing the 'manual-cruise' button releasing Kitt's automatic control.
"Michael, now that we are 'here'," Kitt began. "Would you mind telling me just where 'here' is?" Kitt's scanning lights began to flash, indicating Kitt was scanning the approaching area for any information he could find.
Michael smiled. He knew Kitt wouldn't find anything special. There was nothing in this area to find except dirt, rocks, clumps of grass and the few businesses that operated in this area.
"I'm sorry Kitt," apologized Michael. Suddenly he felt bad. This was supposed to be a vacation; Why was he feeling like he had hurt his best friend?
Kitt's scan revealed nothing but dirt, rocks, clumps of grass, a few local businesses some loose change, dried bones and metallic yellow rocks. Metallic yellow rocks? thought Kitt.
"Hey Kitt, listen," Michael began. "Define the word 'vacation'."
Kitt's lights began to flash again indicating Kitt's search through the computer files.
"Vacation," Kitt began, "according to Noah Webster's 1828 American Dictionary of the English Language, published by the Foundation for American Christian Education in San Francisco, California, taken from the August 2000 printing...."
"Noah Webster's 1828 Dictionary?" interrupted Michael "Is that the best you could come up with? Is that what April programmed you with? I'm really beginning to wonder about that girl".
"Excuse me, Michael, but April suggested that the most accurate meanings to words in the American Language would be found in Noah Webster's Dictionary. I am inclined to agree with her. If you would prefer a more modern definition...." explained Kitt.
"Never-mind," answered Michael. He quickly began to regret his comments. "Go ahead, I'm sorry for interrupting. What do you have? Oh yeah, you can skip the bibliography this time."
"Okay Michael. Vacation, noun, French word coming from the Latin word 'vacatio'".
Michael bit his tongue, not willing to interrupt Kitt again. He knew Kitt would get to the definition eventually. Even if he had to listen to these unnecessary details. He was glad he was human and could sift out important details while ignoring other useless information that wastes time and bogs one down.
"There are six definitions. The first definition: The act of making void, vacant, or of no validity; as the vacation of a charter," recited Kitt. He paused and waited for an indication from Michael as to whether he should continue.
"Great! Keep going," urged Michael.
"The second definition: Intermission of judicial proceedings; the space of time between the end of one term and the beginning of the next; non-term," Kitt stopped again, but only to allow a verbal space between definitions.
"The third definition: The intermission of the regular studies and exercises of college or other seminary, when the students have a recess." Again Kitt paused briefly before continuing.
"The fourth definition: Intermission of a stated employment."
After another brief pause, Kitt continued, "The fifth definition: The time when a see or other spiritual dignity is vacant. During the vacation of a bishopric, the dean and chapter are guardians of the spiritualities."
"The final and sixth definition is: Leisure; freedom from trouble or perplexity. In parenthesis it is noted 'Now little used'. That would be in 1828, Michael." Kitt added.
Kitt realized that Michael was approaching Jakes' Pit Stop Gas 'n Go. It was on a corner at an intersection of the main road and a barely perceivable dusty, dirt road. Directly next to and almost attached to Jake's Pit Stop was Dora's Homestyle Eats Diner.
"Are we stopping here, Michael?" asked Kitt.
"Yes, Kitt," answered Michael, "I am famished and I am sure you could use some nourishment as well. Am I right?" he asked jokingly.
"Yes Michael, I am getting low on fuel, if that is to what you are referring," answered Kitt. He had hoped to get some answers from Michael and this was starting to look like another delay tactic. Kitt couldn't fathom why Michael refused to tell him what plans he has in mind. After all, 'a vacation' is not a very enlightening term considering Noah Webster needed six definitions to explain what the term meant.
Michael eased the Trans Am off the road and into the full-service area of Jake's Pit Stop Gas 'n Go.
"You can fill up first, okay 'ol buddy?" said Michael, not expecting a reply, as he opened the driver side door.
Michael stepped out of the car and took a few steps to stretch his legs. He turned around slowly appraising his surroundings. There wasn't much to look at; the station and diner were both about 50 years old, identical in construction materials and condition. Both were in need of repair, but fully functional. The buildings were very weather-worn and aside from a few dusty corners with cobwebs and spiders, pleasantly compatible with a comfortable old western appeal.
A white-haired elderly gentleman gingerly stepped down from the station's front doorstep, where he had been sitting. A rickety old rocking chair wobbled back and forth behind him. The man appeared to be in his late 70's or early 80's and walked with a limp. Michael was not certain if this man had been injured or was coping with arthritis or some other age-related ailment.
"Hello there, sir," Michael called to the old-timer.
The kindly gentleman nodded his head and mumbled an incoherent reply that was undeniably welcoming. He continued to hobble closer to Michael and Kitt.
Michael waited patiently and offered the man his hand as he drew closer.
"My name is Michael," he said. "How are you today, sir?"
"Iyem as gooed az Iye git," the man replied, slurring his words. He smiled awaiting Michael's response. His smile revealed that the man was chewing on a large black wad of chewing tobacco.
The chewing tobacco in the man's mouth was making it nearly impossible for Michael to understand this man's speech, but Michael was catching on and quickly adapting to his speech pattern.
"That's great sir," replied Michael, not really sure it was; but it seemed the appropriate thing to say.
The gentleman stepped over to a nearby trash can and spit the clump of tobacco out of his mouth. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt and turned to face Michael again.
"Sorry, 'bout that young fella," he said speaking much more clearly now. "Not much business here these days. Sometimes go for weeks at a stretch without a soul to cut the fat with. Do I know you? This noggin ain't what it used to be, ya know. 'ol Dora keeps telling me to take my pills, but just can't seem find them little critters. Them pills are mighty small, ya know, and they can roll right out of your hand if you ain't too careful. Just yesterday 3 leaped out of my hand when good 'ol Cleon pulled in for his weekly supply."
Michael wasn't sure whether he should answer or just let this man continue. He seemed to relish human contact and conversation; his side of the conversation, anyway.
Suddenly, Michael realized the man had stopped talking.
"Say, are you 'the Jake' of Jakes Pit Stop Gas 'n Go?" asked Michael as he leaned comfortably against the driver's side of the Trans Am.
"Yessireee, young fella. You're talking to the one and only Jake Blakely. Dora and I opened this station over 50 years ago, back when families took real vacations and knew how to raise children properly. None of this disrespect and lazy living you see these days where kids camp out in front of the boob tube and learn more bad habits. Honestly, where would I be if I was raised on television and sodie pop? My worst vice is this here chewing tabaccy, and even then how bad is that I ask you?"
Jake seemed to run out of steam at that point and turned from Michael to the nearest gas pump. Lifting the lever, Jake removed the nozzle from its holster and pointed it at Michael.
"Better fill-er- up if you want to make it to the next gas station, eh?" Jake asked in a tone that was clearly not a question and rather more like a command.
Michael nodded and moved away from the car. He reached for the gas station's car window squeegee resting in the bucket containing the window washing fluid and began to clean Kitt's front window.
"Say, Jake," Michael said as he stopped what he was doing to face Jake. "Tell me, how is Dora's cookin? Is it as good as it used to be?" he asked with a smile.
Jake glanced up, his face brightening with joyful surprise. He leaned forward toward Michael and intently studied Michael's face, searching for something he would recognize. Finding nothing, his face darkened. Just then, the gasoline nozzle clicked loudly, indicating that Kitt's gasoline tank was filled to capacity, so Jake turned his complete attention back to the task of replacing the gasoline nozzle back into its holster.
Puzzled and left speechless by Jake's unexpected reaction, Michael remained silent.
"I'm sorry young fella," Jake said slowly. "Do I know you?" he asked eyeing Michael suspiciously.
"Well Jake," Michael spoke with deliberate affection. "You see, when I was a young boy, I was not what you would call an 'enthusiastic eater'. My hamburgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, bagels and even baked potatoes were always without seasoning, condiments or dressings. It wasn't a problem at home because my parents were sure that I would eventually grow out of my simple tastes so they remained very permissive when it came to the meals at home; But, when I ate anywhere else it became very frustrating for me to find the simple plain meals I preferred at the regular restaurants. Even if I ordered a hamburger without cheese or pickles it would inevitably arrive at the table with some condiment I did not eat." Michael studied Jake's face for any sign of recognition, seeing none he continued.
"When I was ten years old, my parents brought me here on a vacation. We ate Dora's cookin' every day for every meal. It wasn't just that she was a tremendous cook and endearing hostess, she had a way of taking every meal order to heart. Everything I ordered came to me exactly the way I had requested, but there was more to it than that. She invited me into her kitchen to watch her prepare meals and lovingly encouraged me to try a taste of things she knew I would like. I didn't realize it at the time, but she taught me about showing compassion and encouragement to someone whose needs seem insignificant to others."
"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle!" sighed Jake, gleefully hobbling closer to Michael to wrap his arms around Michael in a tremendous bear-hug. "If that isn't just like Dora, I don't know what is!"
Jake released Michael from the bear-hug and began to pull him toward the diner, obviously anxious to reunite Michael with Dora.
Michael flashed an uneasy look back toward Kitt. "Shouldn't I pay you for the gasoline first, Jake?" he asked, reaching for his wallet.
"Oh no, sonny!" Jake cried, "You've gotta see Dora! Wait until she sees you," he continued as he pulled Michael away from the gas pump toward the diner.
For a man in his 70's or 80's with a limp, Jake can certainly move when he wants to," observed Michael.
Michael and Jake quickly vanished into Dora's Homestyle Eats Diner, leaving Kitt alone at the gas pump with his scanner lights silently flashing.
Michael was here when he was a boy? Kitt asked himself. I don't believe I have any information on Michael that relates to his life before he joined the Foundation other than his former identity as Michael Long the police officer. Even that information is rather sketchy, he thought as he continued to search his data files for anything else in Michael's history.
Aside from his years with the California police, there appeared to be nothing else. His personal files listed the typical medical information also, but that again revealed nothing.
Searching through myriads of useless information listed in Michael's personal file, Kitt stumbled on something he thought unusual. Listed for his next of kin and life insurance beneficiary was Devon Miles. That's rather odd, thought Kitt. Why would that be? Shouldn't a blood relative be listed instead? Would that mean that Devon Miles is a blood relative of Michael Knight or rather.... Michael Long? Kitt's scanner lights glowed in contemplation at the prospect of Devon Miles and Michael Knight being blood relatives.
Ordinarily, Kitt would have eavesdropped on Michael's conversations in Dora's diner, but for some reason, the audio function on Michael's wrist watch was not activated. That is not like Michael, thought Kitt. We are NEVER out of communication. This is disturbing, thought Kitt. Perhaps the audio components have become dislodged or damaged, Kitt wondered.
Kitt ran a primary diagnostic test on the communication system in Michael's watch and found no malfunctions. Perhaps the problem is more intricately based, he concluded. So, Kitt ran the emergency comprehensive diagnostic test. After only a moment, the answer was clear. The audio communication function on Michael's watch simply appeared to be turned off.
Turned off! What was Michael thinking? screamed Kitt to himself. He NEVER turned off his communication link with Kitt.