Cameron and Pepe stopped to fuel up in Clementine, before turning onto 101.  Pepe stood at the old gas pump outside of Cameron’s window watching the numbers roll by as he filled the Chevy with gas.

Cameron took his cell phone off the seat and tapped the power on.  Nothing happened, he had nursed the cell phone battery as far as possible.  Cameron rolled down the window and waved the cell phone in front of Pepe.  “This thing is dead.  Any juice left in yours?”

Pepe slipped his hand in his pocket and then took out his phone for Cameron.

“This thing is ancient,” said Cameron.  He turned the old clamshell phone as if he had not seen one in years.  “Does it even work?”

“Ha, ha,” said Pepe.  “It works.”

“This thing is an antique.”  Cameron flipped open the clamshell and the screen lit up.  “No color?  I don’t believe it.”

“Less features is longer battery,” said Pepe, his brow stern.  “Now do you want to use it?”

“Yeah, yeah, relax,” said Cameron.

“Don’t complain,” said Pepe.

Cameron winked at Pepe and Pepe flashed a smile back.  These men had been friends for so long they had become brothers.

Cameron rapidly dialed a number and waited for the other end to pick up.

“Hello,” said a voice.  The voice was Claude, another old friend and brother.

“Claude, hey there, it’s Cameron.”

“I have not heard from you.  Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  I’ll be coming back right after I return Pepe to Montreal.”

“Pepe is there with you?”

“Sure, he says hello.”  Cameron gave Pepe a knowing glance.

“Bonjour, mon ami,” said Pepe.  Cameron continued, “He says bonjour.”

“I heard him,” said Claude, “bonjour.”

Cameron looked up at Pepe again, “Claude says bonjour.”  Pepe gave a small wave to the phone accompanied with the same smile he had flashed at Cameron a moment before.

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