Saturday Comes But Once A Year

He dug deep into the soil and then dug deeper. There was a hole growing larger in the grass where the project had begun. Simple, why pay the big money, the money he didn't have on a custom sprinkler system? He could just run down to the Home Depot on Sunset and Western and get the do it yourself kit. How hard could it be? Dig some troughs, connect the plastic tubes, whatever they were called, with some plastic elbow joints and run them to the thing that turns them on and off, the spigot. Simple.

After a few lost minutes he found his way to the section he was looking for; the Garden Center. He stood there unnoticed for a while and casually perused the various systems on display. There were all manner of sprinkler heads, automatic timers, couplers and the like. Should be easy, the commercial said so.

"Who's next?"

He looked around and found himself to be the only one standing anywhere near the help counter.

"I suppose I am."

"What do you need?"

"I want to install a sprinkler system for my lawn at home."














"What area do you need to cover?"

"I don't know exactly? I have a small front yard."

"How many sprinkler heads do you estimate."

"I'd say sixteen."

"Wow sixteen okay. What kind of heads did you have in mind?"

"What are my options?"

"Well there are single stream and multistream, pop-up and flush heads."

"Let's see. How about six single stream and ten multistream and all pop-ups."

"Alright, and how much pvc will you need?"

"That's a good one. Better to get too much, I can always cut it down right?"

"Sure. So we'll add a flexible pipe flaring and crimping tool you'll need that no matter what."

"Of course I'm glad you reminded me."

"Yeah. You'll also need some insert male adapters, tees, elbows and some funny pipe tees."

"I will."

"How else do you expect to do it?"

"Oh I knew that. I was just making sure you weren't trying to sell me stuff I really didn't need."

"We don't do that here sir."

"I know that, I didn't mean...what else?"

"I think a master control and some sprinkler mate fittings and that should get you there."

"Anything else?"

"I need to know your GPM."

"My what?"

"Your GPM, gallons per minute so we can get the right size pvc."

It continued on and on. It was supposed to be easy, that was what the friendly man in the Home Depot commercial said. Who knew there was so much to consider? He stood there and the man helping him knew that there would be no definite answer forthcoming.

"Let's just assume you are a class 40."

"Oh right that's it, class 40."

"Give me a little while to gather all this and I'll be back as soon as I can. There is a how-to guide over on the counter you might want to take with you."

"I"ll look at it but I don't think I need to take one home."

"Suit yourself."

He moved over to the counter and found the guide. He picked it up and then in one quick motion shoved it into the front of his pants. It was only a few short minutes when the clerk showed up with a trolley loaded with long white pipes and many clear plastic bags filled with every joint and plastic coupling and sprinkler head.

"This should do it. Where is your truck parked?"

"I don't have a truck."

"Oh. You can find some twine and be sure to get a red hand towel on your way out if you are planning on bringing this home yourself."

"I brought my own towel, I knew it would be a messy job."

"The towel isn't for your hands its to put on the pvc that will be hanging behind your car."

"Right, right."

Hours after the Home Depot delivery missed it's delivery time he began to work. It was better, he thought, to pay the extra for delivery especially compared to what the rest of the supplies cost. He looked through his how to guide.

He dug deep into the soil and then dug deeper. There was a hole growing larger in the grass where the project had begun. It would be some time and professional help before his once green lawn could be brought back from the dead.











It was late in the afternoon and he pulled his car into the driveway. As he opened the car door the automatic sprinkler timer went off at it's usual non specific time soaking his pants leg. Sure the grass was green but as he stood there he remembered the joy he once felt when hose in hand he would water his lawn. Technology what a gas.

Lesbian Feline Trainers

O Muses, o high genius, aid me now!

O memory that noted what I saw,

Now shall your true nobility be seen!














"Cleo left a message and said she couldn't make it."

"What do you mean she couldn't make it? I need her to speak to me. Doesn't she know that without her I am lost?"

"I don't know what she meant because she does not speak to me. The message was for you."

"Oh what cruel misery has befallen me?"

He was left alone in the room. A blank page stared at him, challenged him, bored holes though his mind. He was a child, that's it, he was a child it was summer and hot, and then...no, that won't do. He didn't much care for his childhood and moreover could not begin to draw a picture of that time in his head. Everyone had been a child so even if he were to regard a remembrance and embellish it as such then to what end?

The world is fraught with destruction and conflagration with the powers of good and evil poised to foster their eminent demise. A man comes, no, a woman comes to lead them through the darkness. Sent herself by the one almighty she...she...Oh Cleo, won't you please speak to me. She leads them where? How?

A blank page sits forlorn for it is void of meaning, wait the page doesn't sit, I sit devoid of any meaning, he thought.

It's one out in the top of the ninth and the loved ones, the Dodgers trail by two with first place on the line. Olmedo Saenz sprays a slider over the outstretched glove of San Francisco's second basemen Ray Durham allowing the tying run to cross the plate...oh not sports reportage, please not this, Cleo, please not this.














She answered the phone and demurely inquired of the caller to please make themselves known to her. It was him. She had been waiting for what felt like, seemed, could have been, might have been, was almost, in her mind, an eternity for this call but now that it had come she had trouble forming, divining the right, knowing the right, mouthing, uttering, words to speak. Bullshit, utter tripe Cleo.

I quit. I shall retire until that time that Cleo feels fit to return. Damn them all who would not allow me this convenience. Do any of them know of this vexing quandary that I now find myself in? "Dance little marionette, dance for us", I can here them scowl through smiles hiding sharp incisors. Is not the blood I have spilled enough for you? Must you demand even more? Cast me deep into the crevice and then shake the earth so to close me up in that wound. Is that what you would have of me?

"Are you there?"

"Cleo is that you?"

"I am here."

"Oh Cleo you have not forsaken me. I am saved. And what in your power might you have me tell? What tale will you gift me for to render on this page."

"Is my gift to you not good?"

"I praise you for all gifts I have past received. That I do."

"But not of today?"

"You have not gifted me as to the present."

"Have I not?"

"Pray tell?"

"Is this page now empty?"

"It is not but the words only start and err."

"And you say to tell me that this is not a gift good enough?"

"Then this indeed is the gift as well?"

"Though you toil each day with no end to spell you, may you know this one thing."

"Please Cleo, please. Your wisdom I deny not. What truth can you depart that I may lift again my hand and honor you?"

"Know this. You can't hit a home run every day."

Five And Dime Serling

"So Victor do you know where I can find this guy?"

"I heard he has a little garage off Alvarado near Kent."















"Near those tire shops?"

"Yeah. His name is Jose. There is supposed to be a clock painted on the side of the building."

"Okay I'll give it a try."

"You sure you want to?"

"I don't have a choice."

The little man with the dirty hands bent over the hood of yet another car. He reached under the front end and popped the latch. He gave a lift and the hood sprung open.

"You know once I do this you can't take it back?"

"I know, I know. Just please do this for me."

"Okay as long as you know that I'm not responsible for the outcome and as far as anyone will ever know this never happened."

"Fine, fine just do it for god's sake."

"You must not mention god. Do you hear me?"

"Sure Jose, I won't say it again. Just, could you please do this?"

"Again, how far back? You must be certain once I do this I can't take it back."

"Let's see its about twelve thousand a year so I think about thirty thousand."

"This is no time to just think you must know."

"Alright, thirty thousand, make it thirty thousand."

Jose Viajar Epoca, as he had be come to be known, grew still and then a mischievous smile bled across his face from one side to the other.

"Thirty thousand, that is a good number my friend, it is and so be it."















Jose walked over to the sheet metal garage door and with a tumultuous clang closed it enclosing the cramped space in darkness. A little blue light was lit over the car's engine. Then a votive candle was lit and Jose placed it inside the car on the dashboard. There was absolute quiet. The little garage became unbearably cold though the day outside was hot and caste in a late afternoon sun.

Jose began to hum a tune to himself breaking the hush. He moved with short rapid motions. First he was under the hood then it seemed as if without moving he was inside the car. He laughed and then it sounded if he had emitted a mournful moan. Inside the car the dashboard lights came on green, then blue, then red and finally gold. Jose looked at the odometer and watched as it spun wildly backward. Miles and miles disappeared as the odometer blurred into the past.

When it was over Jose lifted the garage door and let the sun race back in destroying the dark or any remembrance of the ceremony with it. He then pulled down hard and slammed the hood shut.

"Who are you?"

"I am Jose, they call me Senor Viajar Epoca."

"Why am I here?"

"You asked me for the help you thought you needed."

"And you gave it to me?"

"And that I did."

"What did I ask for."

"You asked me to roll back the miles. You wanted to go back and I helped you."

"I see. I think I remember."

"That is possible."

"So you have rolled back the miles, rolled back the time."

"You can only answer that."

"I believe you have. I do."

"And that is good?"

"I think it is. Tell me Jose I came to you as you say to roll back the miles and you have. You are an old man why have you not rolled back your miles?"

"You see this is what I am, whether I would be able to do this, be this, somewhere in the past I don't know and needn't know. I leave it you the unsatisfied to reach back for what you think you may have lost, that is who you are and not who I am."















The car left the small garage and Jose watched as it turned right and disappeared down Alvarado. He was making his way back to the garage to get an orange Fanta when an white Mustang pulled in. Jose saw the car then turned and continued into the garage to get his Fanta. Jose loved his orange Fanta and the first sip caused him to hiccup. It always did.

"Excuse me sir are you Jose?"

"That is my name."

"My friend Victor said I could find you here."

Double The Battery Life

"Can you hold on a second I have another call coming in. I'll be right back, I promise."

"Yeah, sure."















"Hello."

"Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"This is Koko at High-Tech, your car's ready."

"That's great, how late are you open?"

"We'll be here 'till seven."

"How much was it?"

"It was only a hose and the dealer had it in stock. Also I didn't charge you for the brakes, it was just a slipped pad, so the total is one twenty."

"That's awesome. Thanks, I'll be there by seven."

"Alright."

"Bye....I'm back. You still there?"

"Yeah."

"That was the mechanic, my car's ready."

"Cool. So you were saying?"

"What was I saying? Shit, I can't remember what we were talking about."

"Tony?"

"Oh that's right. You asked me if Ingrid was seeing Tony."

"Right. Well I saw them at this thing the other night and I don't know if they were together, it was kind of a big event but I saw them there and..."

"And its really no business of yours if they are going out."

"So they are?"

"I didn't say that. He never mentioned anything to me, I know he has some phone thing going with a girl in Boston but besides that I really don't know anything at all."

"But he could be?"

"He could be but you know what?"

"What?"

"Even if he was it would be none of your business."

"I know you said that already."

"You guys have been broken up for, what, seven, eight months?"

"More like a year."

"There you go. Already a year later and you're still obsessing on her."

"Well at least I'm not doing drive bys anymore."

"Oh, congratulations on not being a stalker."















"Shit I know but I guess I just don't have the tools to deal with this situation."

"What situation? The one you created in your head?"

"Yeah maybe. The funny thing is that when I saw her it was weird, you know we broke up and got back together something like three times and every time it fell apart like the time before, so I'm looking at her and I realize that I don't really even like her, don't know if I ever did."

"So why do you care if she is going out with Tony?"

"So she is. I knew it. Fuck that guy."

"Wait a second where'd you get that?"

"You just said it."

"I was being hypothetical."

"Are you sure?"

"Hey bud."

"What?"

"Maybe you should get some help."

"You think so?"

"Don't you?"

"You know anyone good?"

"I don't but I know someone who does."

"Who?"

"Tony."

"Tony?"

"Yep."















"You got his phone number?"

"No but I know someone who does."

"Who?"

"Ingrid."

Bouys And Gills

'Life begins at the hop...boys and girls.'

A. Partridge

It was Memphis hot and sticky. It was just past summer and the first day of school at Ridgeway High had just let out. Alex had trouble concentrating in class that day. There was a world out there somewhere and Alex wanted a piece of it. He had dreams but more then that there was Daisy.

Alex walked slowly up the shade lined street his head bowed and feet shuffling. The school bus clamored by and his friend Jimmy Dickinson yelled out the window as it passed.

"Going swimming. You coming?"

Alex barely looked up. He waved his hand unconvincingly as the bus went on. He didn't necessarily want to go to the public pool with all those other kids. Then he saw Daisy. She was with Dorette Lee just across the street.

Alex crossed the street and ambled up to the two girls.

"Hey Daisy. Hey Dorette."

"Oh hey Alex." the girls said in unison.

"Daisy I got to git. I'll call you later. Bye Alex."

"See ya Dorette." Alex and Daisy chimed.

The two teenagers stood there, Daisy swaying back and forth, her summer dress billowing just a little as she twisted. Alex looked at his feet unable to move. He didn't know what to say to her but deep within him he heard music...

"Won't you let me walk you home from school, won't you let me meet you at the pool. Maybe Friday I can get tickets for the dance and I'll take you."

Alex surprised himself. He had no idea where these words came from. He didn't know what to say but a burning desire within him needed to explain to Daisy, explain something he didn't know how to say but felt to his core. His mind blazed with ideas. He had to, just had to, explain himself to Daisy. It was so important that she knew. And then the music again sang to him...

"Won't you tell your dad, "get off my back". Tell him what we said 'bout 'Paint It Black'. Rock 'n roll is here to stay, come inside where it's okay and I'll shake you."

Daisy saw it in Alex's eyes. There was something deep going on. Alex wasn't like any of the other boys. Alex was going to be someone, he was going to be a big star.

"Let's walk okay Alex."

Daisy wanted Alex to reach out and take her hand. When she 'accidentally' brushed against him Alex felt the electrical jolt. Under the surface he struggled to say anything. The stakes were so high. This was his life on the line. He burnt with the kind of love only experienced in the mystery of youth. He was still pure and for him the world was contained in this moment.

"This is my street."












They stood there on the corner in that hot Memphis sun. Alex was frozen and then Daisy reached out and took his hand in hers. Alex looked up at her. The light shone through her hair and the sun made Alex to squint. He looked at his love and knew he would remember this face, this moment, this place in time, forever. Then the music ...

"Won't you tell me what you're thinking of. Would you be an outlaw for my love? If it's so, well, let me know if it's 'no', well, I can go. I won't make you."

Daisy shifted her head and the sunlight exploded from behind her blinding Alex. She let go of his hand and as her head moved once again blocking the sun's brilliance Alex saw that she was crying. She lifted her hands together and clasped them under her chin.

"Oh Alex."

She leaned over and placed the smallest kiss on his cheek.

Daisy turned, spinning on her heels, her dress fanning out like a pastel parasol, then ran off down her street. Alex watched, consumed and alive.

Daisy stopped at the small gate that led to her house. She turned back to him.

"I'll see you at the pool."

She waved to him then ran inside.














Alex turned and went back up the street. Could she have known what he had meant? Did it matter? She was going to meet him at the pool. Thirteen, oh to be thirteen.

Six By Nine Rear Deck

"Where you guys wanta griz?"

"How about Brightworld?"

"Hale no. That place is well past beaten down now."














"I know it aint the same since Garnold got shit canned."

"Fuck Garnold, the cook there sent Tall Walter to the emergency room, dude was bleeding out his ass."

"What from?"

"The frys or the chicken he aint sure."

"Well then fuck it where to?"

"How about that vegan joint that just opened by the Butterfly's house."

"Isn't it called the Green Leaf or some such hippy bo-shit?"

"Think so."

"Fuck it let's just do it. I need a grizzle and no waiting around is gonna change the fact."

"Damn straight. Two car it, first ones there grab a table."

The group of dudes split into two and jumped into their cars. It was another Monday night and they could think of nothing better to do then go put the feed bag on. There was no band no club no movie that needed seeing and so they went to eat.

The Green Leaf was a vegan restaurant freshly opened. The neighborhood was going all warm and fuzzy and gentrified and new age and hip and over priced and a vegan restaurant was just what somebody thought it needed to complete the picture.

There were eight of them in all and as the first group of four entered the restaurant they were surprised at how clean and orderly the place was...

"Shit this isn't the hippy alfalfa sprout palace I expected it to be."

They took a booth in the back. The two single ones among them hurried to angle on and get there backs against a wall affording them a view of the entire room; just in case...

"You never know some of these hippy chicks can be kinda hot."

"If you can get by the braided underarm hair."

"Fuck that noise."

"Joking bro, joking."

"I know. Shit."

The next four joined them at the adjoining table and now the whole posse was in effect. A young Asian woman came out, greeted them and then handed out the menus.















Their voices all exploded at once. There was no way to decipher one from another it was just one big jumbled mess of half sentences...

"What do you eat at this joint."

"Damn the menu's pretty deep."

"They got a lot of Asian shit. Pad Thai, noodles, Miso."

"I think I'm going for the chicken and pancakes."

"Fucking hippy Roscoe's, no way."

"Says right here, but its tofu chicken."

"They got vegan grease? Cause it aint Roscoe's if it aint greasy."

"Damn they got a BLT and a side of onion rings I'm going to fire on that."

"I don't get it. They got all this food pretending to be real food what the fuck is up with that?"

"I know if we wanted this shit why didn't we just go across the street to Home and get the real thing there aint but one vegeterrible amongst us."

"Shut the fuck up. The Chief says this place is good."

"I just want some rice and vegetables but all they got is that fucked up brown rice."

"Dude have a curry that shit is good."

The waitress came out and after much seat switching, order changing, bartering, questioning and pleading the orders were in. Moments later the drinks were delivered...

"Hey man I didn't know Coca Cola was vegan."

"I know, is high fructose corn syrup supposed to be vegan?"

"Well the genetically modified corn probably isn't. Didn't they splice some fish genes to the corn to make it grow so indestructible."

"How about all the other shit they put in there?"

"Prolly pretty fucked up too."

"Dude this place aint even that hippy you notice that."

"I know its like a real grub spot."

The food came out soon after. Plates of chicken and pancakes, chicken sandwiches, BLTs, steak satay and other foods that looked strangely like the real thing although it was all made form mysteriously transformed tofu. They all began to grizzle in earnest...













"Dude how is that chicken?"

"Pretty fucking good. Here taste."

"What the fuck that is awful."

"Let me try the pancakes."

"They're pretty good too."

"Oh man. Now that is some hippy shit. You know when you go eat with hippies you see all that good shit but when you taste it its just off. That pancake tasted like, well shit just tastes limp. That aint no pancake."

"Fuck this BLT, its just fakin bits and some fucked up veganaisse on some wimpy bread, it's even got fake cheese on it. Whoever heard of a BLT with cheese? This should have been called a fake BLT with fake cheese."

"This place sucks so bad it almost makes me wish it were more of a hippy place, at least then I coulda gotten a salad with some healthy guy vegetables, you know avocado and cukes and carrots, sure do love me a raw carrot."

"Chief likes this place although he says you get the farts heinously a few hours after the grub."

"Great. Shitty food and crop dusting to boot. Remind me to tell the Chief he's full of shit when I see him."

The guys continued on talking shit about the food and girls and movies and clubs and bands. The once frenetic chowing mellowed...

"Oh shit man, look at that. It was his call and the motherfucker barely touched his own food."

"I wasn't that hungry."

"Bro just admit it the place blew."

"Mine was good I just..."

"Dude just cause you called it doesn't make you responsible for the crap food."

The bill came and it was not cheap...

"Holy fuck, I feel sick and now I got to shell out over the top for this?"

As they all stood out front and smoked...

"Maybe we shouldn't stand out front here and smoke."

"Why not? There aint no people around we aint disturbing anyone."

"No not that. Its just that if we stand here it will make the place look busy and I don't want some fool coming in here on my account then going and holding me responsible for upping the place."

They moved down the street and stood across from the Home restaurant.

"Damn we shoulda aten there."

"Yup next time someone says the Chief likes a joint remind me to walk away."

Then it happened...

Brrrraaaaaaaappppfaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrt

They all fell about the place...

"I'll play through."

"The one who smelt it dealt it."

"The one who denied it fried it."














As the last one was being dropped off at his apartment...

"Alright man I'll see ya later."

"Alright...hey man do you think I could come upstairs for a minute."

"What for?"

"I need to use your restroom."

"Dude just pee in the bushes."

"I aint gotta pee."

Their stomachs grumbled in unison...

"Fuck you. Not in my place."

The tires spun and the car left a trail of smoke behind it. Another Monday night put to rest.

Hey Didn't They Film Swingers Here? Part XXVIII

Marty hung up the telephone. A thousand dollars was a lot of money. Why would Elaine write a check to Rene for so much money? It was well over what he would make in a week. Marty stood by the phone as these questions swirled around in his head . He tried his best not to let his imagination run down the litany of terrible predicaments that could have precipitated the transpiring of this seemingly bizarre circumstance.

"Marty, I'm ready. Shall we?"

Elaine entered the kitchen and spun herself three hundred and sixty degrees showing herself off to her man. Marty knew he wasn't going to bring up the phone call from Fast Check, he wouldn't put Elaine in a position to have to lie like that.

"You look beautiful as usual."

"As usual?"

"You look more beautiful then ever before dear."

"You mean it?"

Marty did mean it. The stakes were so much higher these days and that only brought out the love that he held inside for his wife that much more intensely.

"Elaine, it would make me so proud if you would join me for dinner this evening."

"It would be my honor sir."

They had played this game of formality as a way to smooth over whatever uncomfortable situation might have befallen them since the early days of their relationship. It was a signal that they both knew but would never admit to.












"I know a little place where the food is pretty good and after we have dined the entertainment is supposed to be the best in town."

"In town?"

"Maybe the world."

"That's more like it."

Elaine came to Marty and kissed his neck then turned and left the room. Marty stood there for a moment and watched as his wife walked away from him, stopped in his tracks, afraid to leave the sanctity of their home. What would this night bring?

"Hello."

"Rene, what the fuck?"

"Oh hey Sal."

Rene pressed the cell phone tight to his ear. The sound of the Pinto had worsened and it was difficult to hear as he drove.

"I got two things buddy."

"Don't worry I'm not going to be late."

"That aint one of them."

"Then what?"

"First off you got to get me another one of those bags. You might not be good for much pal but I gotta say whoever your connection is, well that's worth the price of admission right there. You wanna come by early and get the cash and no spending it on your car, I don't want to hear next week that you got a front and now the guy won't sell you anymore."

Rene felt the bulge of the thousand dollars, less the fee Fast Check had charged, in his pocket.

"I think I can cover it but you got to hit me back tonight."

"Shit Rene, I'm not a broke ass like you. I got a real job."

"Thanks Sal. Not a very cool way to talk to someone who is doing you a favor."

"Save it Rene."

"Okay so I'll pick it up and I'll see you when I see you."

"Not so fast pal."

"What now?"

"A little birdie tells me that you have been a bad boy."

Rene tensed a bit. Sal wasn't one to fuck around. If he knew what Rene had pulled there might be hell to pay. He couldn't let on that he knew where Sal might be going with this so he decided to play dumb. He could cover his ass later if the need arose.

"How so?"

"Well I'm not saying, but if there comes a time where I hear you've been harassing any of the employees at the restaurant, all I can say is that shit won't fly."

"Can you be more specific?"

"What, there's more then one?"

"I'm not sure what you're on about."

"Let's just say I overheard some shit about personal information being used in the off hours and I tell you if any of my girls says word one to me about you, and I don't give a fuck what Marty and Elaine have to say, you're fucking history."

"Shit Sal, no worries man."

"Don't you know worries me."

"Alright, I hear you straight up, loud and clear. No messing with the merchandise."

"You're a sick fuck Rene."

"I'll see you tonight."

"No fucking around and don't pinch the bag."

"See ya Sal."

Rene felt a wave of relief wash over him. Messing with the girls, he didn't want any of those girls, he had just wanted some money that's all.

Marty waved to Enrique the valet and then pulled the Allante directly behind the back door of the restaurant. Enrique ran over and opened the door for Elaine.















"Good evening Elaine. My you look special tonight."

"Thanks Enrique."

Enrique ran around the back of the Cadillac and took the keys from Marty.

"Its going to be a wild night tonight Marty. I don't know, but I can just feel it."

"Maybe you're right Enrique, maybe you're right."

Pulling Numbers Drawing Lots

"Shut the goddamn door, you're letting the cold in asshole."

"Did you kiss your mom with that mouth?"















"Fuck you."

"Nice to see you too."

Sam entered the one room apartment and fought to make his way to a chair. Stacks of magazines and old newspapers, clothes and dirty dishes were strewn about over everything and if the situation hadn't been so desperate it might almost have been seen as poetic. A little black and white television crackled the local news in the darkened shade drawn room. Old man Stenson was on the stretch run and if not for Sam he might have already sped past the finish line.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you Stennie."

"You checking up on me or something? Let me tell you one thing, I'm just fine and I don't need no one's help. You got that?"

"I know you're alright but I was in the neighborhood and I just figured since I was passing by anyways..."

"How come you're always passing by? Tell me that? Seems you're in this neighborhood quite a bit."

"Okay, okay. I'm not saying I was checking up on you but I did come by specifically to see if you needed anything."

"What could I need? I got everything."

"I don't know. Hey Stennie why don't you let me clean this place up a little bit. You know give it some class."

"I know what you mean. You want to get rid of my files."

"What do you need all these old magazines and newspapers for Stennie?"

"There is important information in those documents and if you continue making these aggressive threats against my property you may as well just get up and leave right now. There's the fucking door."

"Ah don't get all bunched up Sten, aint no big deal. Sorry I mentioned it. Okay?"

"I guess so."

Old man Stenson stared straight ahead watching as the local newscaster related events of a world so far removed from his own.

"Good thing we're in that Iraq. Those motherfuckers best should have known not to have fucked with the old stars and stripes. Think they can fuck with those towers, I don't care much for New York but not on our soil you hear me?"

"Sure I hear ya Sten."

"Did I ever tell you about when I was stationed in Greenland during W W two?"

Sam had heard about Stenson's exploits as a young man flying submarine watch over the North Atlantic many times in the past in fact as the story had changed so much over the years he wasn't sure if he knew the story better then the old man.















"Maybe a long time ago. Hey old man why don't I run out and get you a little something? I can go to the store and bring back something sweet then we can have a little treat and watch Jeopardy together."

"I sure do like Jeopardy but I think they give those folks the answers backstage. You know there was a big hoopla when the '$64,000 Question', got caught doing it."

"Sure Sten, I remember you told me about that."

"I got a report on it in my files."

"So what do you think? Ice Cream maybe some pie?"

"I don't know Sam. I'm just fine like this."

"I know you are Sten. Why don't I go get us some of that Caramel Cone ice cream you like so much and maybe a strawberry rhubarb pie, huh?"

"Gee Sam. You really think so?"

Sam knew the old man loved ice cream and pie but he also knew that Stenson was afraid he wouldn't come back. They always went through this dance. Sam would go get the treats but while he was out he would also get the old man a few other items and then sneak them into the little kitchen.

"Come on Sten, I'll only be gone a little while."

"Well Jeopardy is on in forty minutes."

"I know, I'll be back before it starts."

"Okay Sammy, that would be nice."

"Alright then. I'll be right back."















Sam got up and made his way to the door and stood there. As he stepped out he turned and looked back at his friend sitting in his chair and started to miss him. What would he do when there was no more old man Stenson?

"Shut the goddamn door, you're letting the cold in asshole."

The old man was smiling. What would he do when there was no more old man Stenson?

Welcome To The Virgin Star People

He parked the Ryder truck on the east of Hillhurst just north of Franklin. He took a long moment and sat behind the wheel and thought. He thought of the water and sand, of bats and balls and the green green expanse that led to the outfield wall.

The sky was a burnt forest fire orange and the day, smoke filled, was growing prematurely dark. It was another end to endure and so he left the truck and entered the store knowing that no matter how long he dawdled he couldn't stop the end. He dragged into that store unwilling to comprehend what was about to happen. It had occurred for as long as he could remember and it scared him to realize it was happening again.

Box Brothers had every kind of materiel for packing things, packing them away and shipping them off. There were two men working amongst the shipping supplies and when they saw him they greeted him in a most familiar manner though he had rarely crossed their threshold.

"Howdy. What can we help you with?"

He could barely respond so deep was sadness. Could they possibly help him?

"I think I need a box."

"What size?"

"I'm not sure. Probably really big"

"What are you planning on putting in it?"

"I really can't say that for sure."

"Do you need some more time?"

"Yes I do. That is what I really need; more time."

"No sweat just let us know when you are ready."

"But I'm ready now."

"Okay? So what will it be?"

"More time, I need more time."

"Do you need more time to decide?"

"No. I just need more time."

He was left alone, his sadness now so profound as to not go unnoticed. It was no use, there was nothing in Box Brothers that would help him though he appreciated the kind man's effort. He moved back towards the truck and then sat behind the wheel and clicked over the ignition.













Where could he go? South America, Australia, Hawaii? It just wouldn't be the same, it wouldn't be here, his home. He didn't want the change. He wanted things just as they had been but this could never be. So he drove. A quick u-turn then west on Franklin. He ran that street until it deadened at Sierra Bonita then south and a right onto Hollywood Blvd. He drove Hollywood then left on Stanley and to the right on Sunset. Now west in earnest through the city, into the curves of Bel Air and then into the straights of Brentwood. A quick left onto Canyon View then right onto San Vincente. One stop light at 26th then a right at 7th Street.

He descended the canyon and then made the left at West Channel. The ocean, the ocean, he could see the water. He was overcome with grief at his loss. Could he wait through another winter. Could he? He made the left onto the Pacific Coast Highway and traveled south. There it was, Parking Lot Nine; his church. Deserted now, he pulled the truck over and entered the lot and parked.

The ocean, the ocean. Could he live without her? He walked from the truck and to the end of the blacktop. He pulled his shoes free and then set them down and left them where they lay.

The sand embraced his feet, the last of the days warmth being slowly leeched from it into the coming night. So soon this sand would not know the heat of the sun for the short days and merciless cold winds of inevitability would be blasted down upon it.

He walked toward the sea. Where were the people? They had abandoned her. He walked to the sea's edge.

'Must there be an autumn and then a winter?'.

He looked into the water and sought out a sign. A formation of Pelicans flew northward over his head.

"Is this a sign?"

He looked back to the sea. Somewhere out there past the breakers there was a beach, warm, but he could not go there, this was his home. He saw the dorsal fin of a dolphin glide and then the blow of mist.

His disquiet ebbed as the tide rose. He sat upon the sand as the water raced ever closer to him.

'I will wait for you. When you are ready I will be here to once again feel your warm embrace.'














The night came and he looked out to her vast blackness. Tiring he lay down and looked to the sky. Andromeda, Pegasus greeted him. Brilliant stars.

'Forgive me for I just wanted to say good bye. I miss you already. I will wait as I have each year for you, for the summer to return. I can not put you in a box, or chase you around the world but I will wait, I will wait for the summer to return to me.'

Sleep Now Sleep

She sits silently and waits, watches.

She is a waterfall.

Smoke curls heavenward from her cigarette as it rests in the ashtray. Blue smoke against grey dark skies, a teapot steams in the chorus and a book folds open before her. An old woman, kaftan wrapped in beige, sits, beret'd over long grey hair and ponders too her days. Long fingers lift the tea cup to lips tired from speaking and the warmth counters the chill and damp.

She is a waterfall.

A cab speeds by, it's wake turns the pages and they land arbitrarily?

'Awaken thee in thy meadow and behold. Behold the light which is the day. And feel the green beneath thee and then rise. Seek what you have never sought and find what you have never looked for and you will find all.'

She is a waterfall.

Across the wide cobbled street sat a beggar too tired to beg, gloves bared at the fingers and eyes too sad to see. The cigarette laid itself to rest and she closed the book.

Pulling her kaftan tight the old woman arose slow and delicate. Standing quiet and still she turned...

"Miss may I please sit with you?"

She is a waterfall.














The beret sat askew and then she reached over and with a smile made it to right.

"I am old and my days live in my eyes. I have read your book and I have seen the words too."

She is a waterfall.

She held her hand in the both of her own and the old lady looked off into the distance.

"Are you so kind? Can you know that for an old woman I have need to be held yet all those who have held me are gone? Can you know that one day you may too need a hand outstretched?"

The old woman looked back and then deep into those eyes.

She is a waterfall.

"Like this road we think we can see how far it goes but we can not know it's end. My end is near and I do not fear. I have no regret nor should you. These things, these days and people that have made my life, the crucible that has forged me in it's fire, these times hold me dear."

The old woman freed her hands and then touched them to her cheeks.

"You are a waterfall."

The old woman stood and then leaned to kiss that forehead. The warmth, the tear, it dropped down to the cheek of her own.

The book was reopened and the pages sang to her. The tea was steeped anew and she read on and on. The grey was not so grey. The cobbled street seemed not so wide and she too stood.

She bent low and those glove bared fingers lifted to take the cup. She is a waterfall. The twin blue plumes rose skyward and then the sad eyes brightened.

The book was left there on the far side of that cobbled road held by fingers not dirtied but fingers alive.














That night in the that quiet, in that still the old woman spoke...

'Awaken thee in thy meadow and behold. Behold the light which is the day. And feel the green beneath thee and then rise. Seek what you have never sought and find what you have never looked for and you will find all.'

She is a waterfall...

And Then The Sun Set

"Did you read the newspaper today."

"Sure, what about it?"

"In Column One, a scientist claims that he has empirical proof that purgatory exists."

"Is he referring to empirical theory or law."

"Oh he is steadfast in his belief that he has proved through experiment and not observation that his findings are true."

"Isn't it true that only Roman Catholics ascribe to the concept of purgatory?"

"I didn't know that."

"Oh yes. Purgatory is a place where the souls of the newly dead go and are put through unimaginable torture and pain and not until they have suffered enough for their spirit to be cleansed, is their soul released to heaven."

"Wow that makes his findings even more amazing."

"Do you believe a scientist can actually in any manner make experiments that can prove a concept that not only a small fraction of the world's populace endorses but even more so proves that there is life beyond death?"

"Don't be so closed minded. Everything is unbelievable until it is proved and then once it is established as scientific law it becomes impossible to remember a time when wasn't so."

"I agree, the world is flat, the earth is the center of the universe and on and on."

"Right. What this scientist claims is that there may be more then one reality. Therefore for the person who believes in purgatory, purgatory then exists."

"That is observational theory at best and not exactly scientific reasoning."

"Oh he has scientific proof as well."

"Such as?"

"Years of case study of documented fact and scientific research."

"What case study does he refer to."

"He looked into the files of a detective who had died."

"A detective?"

"Not just any detective, he was a paranormal detective named Sim Burnett."

"Come on, a paranormal detective, that sounds a lot like that show the 'X Files'.













"Maybe, but this scientist went through over a thousand files and his conclusion was that when people thought that they were visited by spirits then strange occurrences happened, you know wispy figures and bleeding walls and the like. A non-believer himself Burnett reported seeing these visions too so the scientist concluded that these things can be made real by those who believe they exist."

"So?"

"Well those people believed in their visions to such a degree that they accepted them as fact and therefore for those people it was fact, the concept was manifested in reality."

"So you are saying that if someone believes in purgatory the when they die they will go to purgatory?"

"I'm not saying it but the scientist says he has proved it."

"So if the scientist claims to have proven that there is a purgatory why doesn't he also proclaim that there is a heaven?"

"I guess he didn't have a case study on heaven."

"What test could he have undertaken, or should I say what controlled test study could he have undertaken that would not entail speaking to the dead?"

"He did talk to the dead."

"No way."

"Not literally because of course that would be impossible."

"Then how."

"He touched on it briefly in the article but it all seemed like a lot of technical jargon well over my ability to understand."

"So what is the upshoot of all this?"

"I guess that if you really believe something then for you that thing is true."

"That suits me fine."

"Why do you say that?"














"Because I don't believe in purgatory."

"That'll sure save you a lot of tortuous pain."

"Amen."

A Place Where Nothing Ever Happens

"What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I don't know. Well maybe I do. I just wrote this great story. It was about a guy named Sim Burnett he was a paranormal detective, you know hard boiled, old fashioned gum shoe type. A real no nonsense character. So he goes up into the Hollywood Hills on a call."

"Sounds cool."

"Oh yeah it was. So he gets up there and he is met by some coked out chick who leads him into the house and inside there is some pseudo rock dude, real name was Grosner, he wanted to be called Jimmy Lee right."

"Yeah so far."

"So Sim doesn't really believe in all the supernatural hoo-ha, he knows he's seen some weird shit but knows he's not god and if these things were real he would be in no position to effect them."

"Right. Spiritual but hard boiled, gotcha."

"So first off Sim wants his check, five g, the dude is rich and doesn't flinch, sends the girl to get the check book she comes back extra gacked. The dude writes the check so Sim asks him what's with all the hubbub, you know does a Joe Friday on the guy."

"Straight shootin' bro."

"So the dude starts going off about the weird noises going on upstairs, claims that a wall was bleeding and the like, so Sim asks him what it might be, you know what the dude's best guess might be."

"What did he say?"

"Well the guy starts going off about how he is creating this music and he is afraid that he tapped into a vein of music from the beyond, really fucked with some heavy spirits and now they were all fired pissed at him."

"What does Sim say?"

"He says maybe the kid is right and goes upstairs to have a little look see."

"What was up there?"

"Nothing really visible to the naked eye but Sim does feel it a little, not like some scare factories he had been in but maybe just a little but he doesn't see any tell tale signs of a haunting so he goes into the bathroom."

"Yikes."

"Not really he opens up the drawer next to the sink and sees a bunch of rigs and some spoons, just the normal boring coke geezer paraphenalia so he goes back downstairs to make a report to his clients."

"And he tells them they're a couple of tweaked paranoids right?"

"No, he goes down and asks them if they think there is a heaven or a hell, where they might think these spirits might have originated."















"Why? He didn't believe them did he?"

"Didn't matter it wasn't his job to believe or disbelieve. He was there to serve his clients best interests. Turns out they, well the guy because the girl just sat glazed over in a chair, the guy didn't believe in hell but he believed in heaven so Sim asks him if there is only a heaven then why should he be afraid of some ghosts or whatever."

"Just the facts ma'am."

"So at this point the story is moving along. The writing style is there the characters are drawn we're ready for the fireworks."

"And."

"The damn computer goes awol and drops the connection, nothing is saved and the story goes bye bye."

"Maybe the spirits were mad at you and took that shit."

"Its not my job to say if that is true or not."

"Now you're getting spooky. So what was going to happen?"

"Well they were going to get into this heavy dialogue about divine nature, heaven, spiritual truth, destiny, providence the supernatural, quantum mechanics and the like."

"Damn. How was it going to end?"

"Well the sun would have risen and Sim would leave about ten-thirty in the morning. All the talk would have made him hungry. In the discussion he had come to grips with the fact that for him heaven was on earth."

"And?"















"So he ends up at Musso and Frank's eating flannel cakes, you know analogous to his concept of heaven."

"Bummer you didn't get to write it."

"Yeah. A real bummer."

His Master's Voice

"Have you ever been a patient here before?"

"No this is my first time."

"That's fine dear. Just take these forms and have a seat and fill them out. We'll call you when the doctor can see you."



Paul took a seat on a small creme colored sofa. He was alone in the small waiting area. This wasn't like the doctor's offices he was used to, this wasn't a clinic or an emergency room; Paul had made an appointment with a specialist. He held the clipboard in his lap and looked at the form. He filled in the usual information the best he could, birthdate, non-smoker though he was thinking of starting, major illnesses; he had none. The second page was for insurance. 'Would my insurance cover this?,' he thought.

Paul got up and handed the completed forms to the kind lady and once again took his seat. The wooden door leading to the doctor's office opened and a pretty young lady stood half way into the waiting area with her back to him. She must have been still been speaking with the doctor.

"So you think that's all it is? Thank you so much Dr. Samuels. Yes I have the prescription and I promise to check back in a week. Thank you so much."

She turned and entered the waiting room, accidentally making eye contact with Paul. She quickly averted her eyes and with a look of embarrassment hurried from the room and out the doctor's office.

Paul had forgotten her even before he had seen her. She had been stunningly beautiful but Paul couldn't remember the color of her hair, it's length, not even the clothes she wore or the color of her eyes. He tried to conjure her image but if he could have done that then he would have had no reason to see the specialist.

"Young man, Dr. Samuels can see you now."

Paul got up and passed through the wooden door. The examination rooms were small, smaller then he had expected as he passed by an open one. He came to the second door and the kind lady opened the it for him.

"Now why don't you just take off your clothes and get into a gown and the doctor will be with you shortly."

Paul entered the little room and she closed the door behind him. 'That's odd', he thought, 'why would I need to disrobe?' but he proceeded to take off his clothes and get into the powder blue gown. 'I wonder if I have this thing on the right way?'. After tying himself in Paul hopped up on the examination table. The table, covered in a beige vinyl was cold to the touch, the crisp white sheet of paper that ran down the middle of it made a crinkling sound as he laid down upon it, and not knowing what else to do he waited.

Paul was feeling calm, quite contrary to what he had expected. The few trips he had made to see a doctor were usually cause for great trepidation and fretting. He was so relaxed he felt as if he might just fall out as he lay quietly on that cool examination table.

Paul heard the swoosh of the door opening.

"Good day Paul, I'm Dr. Samuels."

Paul sat aright on the table.

"I see you are in a gown, that wasn't quite necessary but I don't think it will impede the examination."

Dr. Samuels didn't look to be a doctor, more a mechanic or factory worker. He wore a white smock over what appeared to be coveralls and work boots and smiled broadly in a very unserious manner.

"So Paul let's see if we can get to the bottom of what ails you."

"Do you think we can?", quizzed Paul.

"Like anything else Paul, we can only try."

Not exactly the reassurance Paul was looking for.

"So you seem to be having trouble remembering pretty girls is that true?"

"Do you think I have a brain tumor doctor?"

"Could be but then again maybe not."

"What would cause this then?"

"Could be any number of things. Let's start by having you answer a few questions."

"Sure."

"When did you first notice this condition?"

"I think it was sometime in late July."

"So roughly six weeks ago?"

"Right."

"Did you receive any trauma to the head around then that you can remember?"

"No."

"Have you lost consciousness in that time?"

"No."

"How often do you use your cel phone?"

"I guess no more then is usual."

"That's good. Now I want you to look at my pencil. Follow it with your eyes not your head."

"Like a police sobriety test."

"Well sort of but not really. Just watch the pencil please."















Dr. Samuels passed the pencil slowly in front of Paul's eyes. Back and forth, back and forth.

"Uh huh, right...that's good, keep it up, just a minute longer. Great now follow it with your head and not your eyes. Do you understand?"

"Sure."

Again the pencil passed in front of Paul and he tried to follow it with his head but strangely he couldn't do it.

"Don't be frustrated just do the best you can."

Again Paul tried but as hard as he concentrated he couldn't move his head, only his eyes. Dr. Samuels returned the pencil to his pocket.

"Does that mean something doctor?"

"Everything means something Paul. If your meaning is, does it mean something bad, well we just can't be sure yet. Why don't you get up off the table and stand here in front of me."

Paul did as he was instructed. Dr. Samuels placed his palm over Paul's heart and closed his eyes.

"What is it doctor."

"Shhh... Paul. I'm sorry but you will have to be perfectly silent right now for this test."

Paul stood there in his gown and tried to think why the doctor would be going through such an odd series of tests, 'but then again', he thought, 'maybe this strange malady calls for some equally exotic diagnostic procedures'.

"Well Paul you can get back into your clothes. I will leave you alone and come back in a few minutes when you are dressed."

"Is everything alright?"

"I'll tell you my diagnosis when I return."

"Sure doctor. Thanks."

Paul was nervous now as he dressed. 'I don't want to come back for more tests. He didn't rule out a brain tumor, my god am I going to die?' His mind raced and in his distress he forgot to button the fly on his pants. Just as he was finishing tying the last lace of his shoes the door opened and Dr. Samuels returned.

"Well doctor how bad is it?"

"Paul that depends on your point of view as does so many things in life."

"Will I survive it?"

"I don't think that is a question I am trained to answer."

"Well what is it doctor?"

"Paul your heart is full."

"What?"

"Simple as that."

"Is it that bad?"

"Well if you mean is it going to kill you, I don't think so."

"So what does it mean?"

"It means that your heart is full. The reason you can not see beautiful girls is that your heart is already full and therefore there isn't room for any more inside of it."

"Is it a physical condition? Do I need to take drugs? Do I need a prescription?"

"No Paul I think you will be just fine."

"Then what should I do?"

"There is only one thing you can do."

"What's that?"

"Listen to your heart. Do what it tells you."

"Wow."

"I know. It would be great if I could just prescribe something for it but I can't. No drug has been found effective in treating your condition."

"Will it get worse?"

"Son, your heart is full. Luckily for you a full heart will not burst although at times it feels like it will. If you want you can check in next week and we can see how you are doing then."

"Thanks doctor."














Dr. Samuels walked out the examination room door and left it open. Paul walked out into the waiting area but the receptionist was no longer there.

'I guess its going to have to get worse before it gets any better'.

Hey Didn't They Film Swingers Here? Part XXVII

Sheri turned down the alley and pulled into the parking lot behind the restaurant. It was early, before the valet would arrive, but they knew her car so she parked in the space closest to the rear entrance of the restaurant. Just as she was about to enter she saw Melanie pull in and so she lit a two cigarettes, one for her and one for Melanie and then waited for her friend.

"Hey Mel."

"Oh thanks babe."

Melanie took a deep drag and then gave Sheri a cracked smile as she exhaled.

"Any more news from the stalker."

"Who Rene?"

"Who else."

"No I haven't. Let's just forget about all that tonight could we?"

"I'm good with anything you want but I really think you should talk to Elaine about it."

"We went over that and I think we decided that if he tried anything tonight then I would go to Elaine."

"You decided that but like I said, whatever you want babe."

"Thanks. Let's get inside I don't want to leave Jerry hanging to do all the prep."

Melanie pulled the heavy door open...

"Wouldn't hurt him to slice a few hundred lemons."

"Geez Mel."

They walked past the restrooms and looked into the restaurant proper. There were a few elderly couples spread about dining at the white linen covered tables. Genevieve, one of the waitresses was busy trying to be nice to a table of customers and looked over at them, she raised an eyebrow in frustration, gave them a little wave of recognition, then went back to her table of fussy customers.

They turned to their left then took the three steps down into the bar. At the far end of the bar there was a couple relaxing on stools sipping martinis and behind the bar, Jerry the bartender, stood in front of a mound of sliced lemons.

"About time the wonder twins showed."

"Awe Jerry baby, you know you love it. You know you want some of this."

Melanie smacked her hand flat on her ass and then turned her back to him.

"Hi Jerry, you should have waited for us."

"Oh that's alright Sheri."

"You aint getting none of that either Jerry so stop playing sensitive guy. It aint working."

"Who asked you Mel?"

Sal walked in on the exchange.

"Okay children let's play nice for the customers."

"Gee Sal, what's with the peacemaker act? Must have been a good bag."

"Christ Mel, can't you just be cool for one night.", pleaded Sheri.

"Okay Sal sweetheart, anything you say dearest. Why don't we go back in the office and I'll blow you."














"My god Mel."

"Don't sweat it Sheri, I've already been there. How do you think she got the job in the first place? I have no desire to conduct that interview again."

"Oh burn Mel."

"Fuck you Jerry."

"Alright kids let's get to work we have poison to sling and money to make."

Sheri sat down at the bar in front of Jerry.

"Hey Jer, I'll do the limes."

"Sure. You alright girl?"

"Yeah why do you say that?"

"Sensitive guy." Melanie interjected from across the room.

"Don't pay any attention to her."

"You don't have to tell me but really what's up? You seem a little freaked."

Sheri looked away from Jerry down to the pile of dark green limes and started to slice them into wedges.

"Its nothing really."

"What, there is something going on and you just don't want to tell me, right?"

"No that's not it."

"Well?"

"I don't know there is just a lot on my mind these days. I have some things I'm trying to work out for myself... and...I don't know, just shit like that."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No Jer, thanks for the offer, really, but this is stuff I need to figure out on my own."

"Okay but I'm here if you want to talk."

"With your dress off that is."

Melanie sat down with them and picked up a knife and started slicing limes.

"Melanie that was really uncalled for."

"Alright, sorry Jer. You know I was just funnin'."

"No sweat Mel I wouldn't expect anything less from you."















The three of them sat in silence busily slicing limes as the day turned to night. The front door of the restaurant opened and the days last light spilled in. A tourist couple dressed inappropriately in summer shorts and sandals walked over to them.

"Hey didn't they film Swingers here?"

200 And More To Go

"Where is everyone?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean where is everyone? I expected a lot more people to be here."

"Well who did you invite?"

"I called a ton of people."

"A ton? Averaging each person at 150 pounds I guess that means, and excuse my math, maybe at least eighteen people."

"Something less then a ton then."

"Did you invite Dave?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't like his girlfriend."

"Why?"

"She's got bad breath."

"Oh great just because his girl friend has bad breath you don't invite him. Wait, how do you know she has bad breath?"

"She wasn't always Dave's girlfriend."

"Okay so you didn't invite Dave how about Marcella?"

"Umm, no."

"Alright. Why not?"

"I owe her fifty bucks."

"So."

"I don't have it and if she came then I would have to borrow it from someone to pay her back."

"Then you would just owe that other person. Where's the logic in that?"

"I've owed Marcella the money for over a year and if I borrowed the money, say form you, it would be a fresh debt and not as pressing so in reality I did you a favor by not inviting her."

"Those kind of favors I can do without. So who did you invite?"

"Rolf."

"Rolf? Rolf moved to Prague a year ago."

"I know."

"So why did you invite him?"















"Because I knew he wouldn't come because he would think I invited Shauna and if she came he wouldn't."

"Did you invite Shauna then?"

"No."

"I hate to ask but why not?"

"I didn't want to upset Rolf if she came."

"But Rolf wasn't coming he's in Prague."

"I know but there was an extremely outside chance that he might."

"Anton?"

"No."

"Susan?"

"No."

"You had to have invited Gary he's your brother for god's sake."

"I was going to but I remembered when we were kids and went to Sandy Pollack's birthday he cried and wouldn't go inside so I just assumed he didn't like parties."

"And I guess Chris, Michael, Heather, Bridget, John, Alexa, Frankie, Molly and Clara didn't get invitations either?"

"Not specifically, no."

"Alright stop. Who did you invite then?"

"I invited you."

"Just me."

"I guess so."















"Why only me?"

"Because you're the only one I care about."

"Oh."

"Can we cut the cake now?"

"Sure. We can cut the cake."

The Good Hands People

"You ever hear of the Van Allen radiation theory?"

Hunter tried not to pay attention. Why was it that whenever he stopped near the desert for any reason, even before he could get two steps from the car, some nut would drag him into a conversation he'd rather not partake in. The man started to make a circle in the sand, the half circles emanating from the poles of the circles like half moons coming from the top to the bottom.

"There are these radiation fields something like three hundred miles from the earth, you can't get through 'em."

'Oh great, I just bet when he opens his mouth...' thought Hunter.

The man tried to smile and showed his missing front tooth.

'Here we go again'.

"There are these great bands of radiation, did you know when the first space shuttles went up and they got up to three hundred miles the astronauts reported becoming radioactive blind and nauseous, the first signs of radiation poisoning? It's true. How far is the moon, something like, I don't know, its way out there but it sure is farther then three hundred miles."

Hunter gave in..."And?"

"It just proves that no one has ever been to the moon."

"It does?"












"When Cooper one of the astronauts was asked after he had just touched down back on earth if he felt the effects of the Van Allen Radiation Belt and he said he didn't know what it was and then a NASA coach came over and whispered in his ear and then Cooper said he didn't remember."

"I don't follow."

"He couldn't have traveled in space that far. How come when you are on the moon the earth looks so small shouldn't it look bigger then the moon does from the earth? They got that part all wrong."

"Who did?"

"The ones who designed the moon landing."

"What do you mean designed the moon landing, do you mean NASA?"

"Only if NASA is in the fiction business cause no man ever got to the moon, they all couldn't get passed the Van Allen Radiation Belt. Did you know the polarity of the magnetic poles of earth have changed at least seven times, they got core samples to prove it, they don't know why it happened but it could be from the trapped radiation in the Van Allen Fields."

"Sounds interesting, you don't want a dollar or anything do you?"

"No I don't want a dollar but I will tell you one thing, at the end of world war two, right before the Nazis fell Hitler escaped to an underground cave in antarctica."

"Hold on a minute."

"You don't think so, how come the U.S.A. lost ten boats trying to follow him in? Its there in black and white if you just look for the documents. There was one admiral, a big one like Nimitz, damn you'd know his name, shit, anyways they had to lock him up because he went crazy looking for the hole in the pole. Supposedly all the Nazi secrets are in there, Hitler too."















"Probably Elvis as well."

"Don't be crazy."

"I would never I..."

"Oh by the way do you think..."

Hunter felt five dollars a small price to pay. He couldn't wait to get home and look up Van Allen's Radiation Theory. The moon sure did look big that night.

Hidden Among The Babies

"Oh I love this song. Turn it up."












She reached over as he had requested and cranked the volume. The Stooges 'Search and Destroy' tore through the speakers and nearly decimated the automobile. Outside it was a beautiful day. There wasn't a cloud or trace of fog in the endless blue sky as they rolled north on the Pacific Coast Highway thirty miles north of San Simeon on their way to Big Sur.

"I am the world's forgotten boy, the one who's searching to destroy" he sang along thinking for all the world he was Iggy incarnate.

She watched him and saw his joy but for her this somehow made no sense. The grandeur of the sea and coastline and then here was Iggy railing against the world, it just didn't fit. As the song was nearing it's calamitous completion she reached behind her to the back seat and retrieved a case filled with CD's.

She flipped through the sleeves until she came to a CD that was special to her. Up until this point she had let him listen to whatever he desired with no compunction to interfere but that time had passed.

"Do you think we could listen to this for a while?"

"I don't know, what is it?"

"I don't know if you are going to like it but this is my favorite music in the whole world."

"Well, what is it?"

"Try and be open minded."

"What is it?"

"Mozart?"

"Why do you want to listen to that?"

"I told you its my favorite."

"What's wrong with The Stooges?"

"I guess there's nothing wrong with it, its just that I think Mozart would be great for this drive up the coast."

"We had a deal if I was driving I could listen to anything I wanted."

"I know."

"So."

"I just thought it would be nice to listen to Mozart that's all."

"Nice try."

The next song kicked in...

'Gimme danger little stranger and I feel with you at ease
Gimme danger little stranger and I feel your disease
There's nothing in my dreams just some ugly memories
Kiss me like the ocean breeze...'















She turned and watched him in his controlled hysteria. The music consumed him. It was a moment of reckoning. Maybe there was a way to get back from Big Sur other then a car. Maybe she made a mistake.

The Four Seasons Of Mexico City

The marquee loomed ugly and overburdened, laden with the titles of movies too silly to fathom. Bad comedies and action pictures assured to offer the unconcerned viewer only the latest in performed product, designed by committee with their only intention being to spin the turnstiles. None of this concerned Little J she hadn't come for a day at the cinema, she was there on business.










The line at the multiplex was long for a matinee. There was no accounting for taste here. The crowds flocked by droves to the escape that two hours in the dark might afford. Little J waited as patiently as she could manage without betraying her real motives.

"I'd like a ticket for the 3:00 screening of 'Pirates of the Caribbean II' please."

Little J always made sure to pick theaters that didn't offer a discounted early bird admission.

"That will be eight dollars please."

Little J counted out her last eight singles and handed them to the young boy in the box office. When choosing who to help her in the box office Little J always went for a young boy if she had any choice even if that line was longer.

"Excuse me sir, I am meeting a group of friends here, maybe six or so, you see we are all coming from the hospital and we might be called back at any moment because my friend Christiane is going to have a baby."

"Here's your ticket."

The boy handed her a ticket and she rushed into the theater. She didn't buy popcorn, a drink or candy. She went directly to theater fifteen and got to work.

She always picked the most popular film and when she got inside the theater the room was nearly full. She saw a group of hipsters and being young and cute herself made her way over to them.

"Excuse me you guys, I'm doing an art project and I'm collecting ticket stubs as part of the piece. Do you think I could have your stubs if you don't need them anymore?"

The hipsters stood and fumbled through their pockets. Two of them found their stubs and handed them to her.

An artier older couple overheard her and waved to get her attention.

"Here miss, could you use these?"

She had two more. She walked down the aisle and asked a group of stoned teenagers.

"Hey guys, I'm doing an art project and if you don't need them could I have your ticket stubs?"

"What kind of art project."

"Yeah, what kind of art project? Hey what if we need these later?"

"Don't be a jerk Tom."

"Don't worry about it, I'll find someone else."

Little J began to walk away when one of the boys called over to her.

"No its okay."

All four teenagers stood and produced tickets. She now had eight. 'Eight would be pushing it' she thought. Little J sat down in a seat near the back of the theater and waited for the movie to begin. The commercials came and went and so then did the trailers.













Then the feature started. Little J didn't own a watch and she knew the best amount of time to wait would be fifteen minutes so she sat and counted...one one thousand, two two thousand, three three thousand. When she got to nine hundred the fifteen minutes were up and she got up out of her seat.

She walked through the lobby back to the box office. Now she looked for the most experienced box office person, preferably a manager for they knew theater policy the best.

She found a man in his thirties helping a younger girl in one of the booths.

"Excuse me sir. I came with some friends to see this film but we have to go to the hospital, my friend is giving birth. They have already gone but can I get the money back on our tickets."

"Can I offer you a rain check on them?"

"I would but we don't live around here."

"We have other theaters."

"That's okay, I'll just take the money, that's what they wanted me to do. Isn't that theater policy? That's what they told me when I came in, a full refund within the first thirty minutes."

"Well we don't like to but you are right that is our policy."

Little J felt confident and decided to offer up all eight stubs. She passed them through the slot under the box offices' bullet proof window.

"Okay, one second please."














"Eight tickets, that'll be sixty four dollars."

The money was passed back through the slot and Little J turned on her heels and nearly sprinted back to the car.

There was a 4:00 showing across town and if she hurried she might make it.

You Talking To Me? There's No One Else Here

She was crying in New York City again. He had heard her cry in New York, Cincinnati, Omaha, Los Angeles, Las Vegas but most often in New York City. She had shed tears almost every day of her life and he really couldn't blame her. Who could? The usual feelings of impotence concerning her situation gripped him and he slunk slowly to the corner of the room by the second story window.

It was a small flat, it seemed everyone he knew in New York City had a small flat. Her sobs controlled and studied continued on and he climbed out onto the fire escape to catch some air; to play his part. The smell from the street wasn't as bad as it could have been for as the summer neared it's end the stench from behind The Hunan House was arrested by the daily afternoon showers. He looked down and watched a large rat casually cross the alley and then disappear behind a blue dumpster, unreadably tagged and filled beyond it's need.

He knew his role and so he pulled out a Lucky Strike and put a Zippo to it then with the proper and expected degree of insouciance retreated into his thoughts.

They were in the Valiant miles east of Joplin, Missouri on Highway 44. It was the first time he had seen her cry. It was a hot, oppressive and gray mid-west day. She was sitting beside him and they had been quiet since stopping to fill the radiator in Joplin. He reached over and played with the dial trying to find a ball game on the radio to break the mood, the tedium. Then she started, the tears making their original descent. If he only knew then what he knew now, oh how he wished to go back, just once with his hard won knowledge.

It was if someone had smashed a window from which behind all her pain had been pent up and then the jagged shards rained forth upon her cheeks, freely, without shame.

"Hey babe, you alright?"

She turned away from him and looked out her window to the distance.

"Is it something I said?"

They drove on, the road deserted save for a passing truck bound from Springfield or points further east.

"If it was something I said I think you should tell me what it is. Don't you think this is unfair?"

She didn't appear angry or sad, more detached and lost somewhere else.

"What do you want me to say? Can't you just please talk to me maybe I can help."

He was starting to anger. What could he have possibly done to upset her so? It destroyed him to see those tears, unexpected, mysterious and unreachable.

"That's it I'm pulling over until you tell me what's up."

He pulled the car to the side of the road. A large semi passed close and the whole car swayed in it's draft. They sat beside the road the heat making waves, distorting the highway and in that vision he saw the promise that the road, that on this road, he might find an oasis somewhere down the line where they might find what they were searching for.

"Listen its alright if you don't want to tell me. Really it is."

Her gaze still hadn't returned, the tears still came.

He pulled the Valiant back on to Route 44, and set out east for Springfield in silence.

She never did tell him.












He flicked the Lucky down into the alley and watched the small spray of sparks as it landed. There was a crack of thunder and then a low rumble that rolled over New York City and then the rains came.

He felt her hand on his shoulder and he knew now not to turn around. The tears would be gone. She would love him and he her. If he only knew then what he knew now.

I'm Waiting Waiting Waiting

"If they only knew."

"Knew what?"

As she sat down on the passenger seat she watched as he moved to the windshield and with a dirty tee shirt wiped the accumulated dew away as best as was possible. She watched him through the streaked window as he toiled to no great effect, his features distorted, the lights of the oncoming cars exploding running with reds and whites.
















He jumped behind the wheel and then the engine kicked over.

"Knew what?"

"What we're doing."

The car jumped onto the road and quietly made it's way into the dead of night.

"I don't think it really matters if they know or not but I'd rather they didn't."

"I know its our secret."

"And I like it that way."

"I don't see why you want to keep it such a secret? It isn't as if we're hurting anyone."

"Oh I know but this is ours and I just don't feel its anyone else's business."

The road made smooth slalomed turns and the poplars that lined the way stood tall in the moonlight.

"Of course it isn't anyone's business but ours, but still, I could care less who knows about it."

"Oh you know I don't care who knows it's just that I'd rather not have to explain myself to anyone."

"You don't have to explain anything to anybody."

"I know."

"But what if I wanted to talk about it."

"You can say anything you want, to me."

"I know and I do but this is different."

"How is it different? What do you want to do go shout it off a mountaintop?"

"And if I did?"

"Well then do it you know I would never stop you."

"I know you wouldn't."

They on rode in silence though there was so much being said that wasn't spoken. She reached over and put her arm on his shoulder.

"I've told someone."

"I know you have."

"And?"















"I don't blame you in the least."

"I knew you wouldn't."

They continued on in silence there was no more need for words. The sun began to color the sky pink from the east and he pulled over to the side of the road.

They sat in silence and watched as the sun made it's move into the day. He looked over to her and saw that she had drifted off. Their secret was safe for at least a little while longer.

Hey Didn't They Film Swingers Here? Part XXVI

Rene Navarette was on top. The Pinto was, even as he drove it, almost a memory. There was a check for a thousand dollars in his pocket made out to cash and he was on his way to turn that check into real money, real cash. He headed south on Hillhurst then made a left on Clayton. He made the next right on Rosalia Rd. and drove to the end of the block. There were 'no parking anytime without permit' signs posted everywhere but Rene didn't care, it wasn't his car.

He got out and as he walked west he looked across Sunset Dr. at the pretty girls sitting about in front of Rudy's Barbershop. 'I could have any one of these girls but good ole Rene doesn't have time now; maybe later'. He walked past the Vista Theater and then turned into the Fast Check.

The Fast Check lobby was filthy with scraps of paper and half drank soda cups laying about and spilled over. The rows of crude metal chairs were empty and there was but one employee behind the wall of bulletproof Plexiglas. There was an obvious drug addict, mid twenties, wearing clothes that fit but didn't look like they did, a kind of dirty that a shower and a shave hadn't fixed at the window pleading his case to the clerk.

"But you have to cash it, my mom sent it to me."

"Sir, I don't have to cash anything." The amplified yet muted voice of the clerk replied from behind the inch thick glass.

"But you don't understand."

"Sir, I do understand that no one is answering at that number and with the banks being closed I can not verify the check unless I get the issuing party on the telephone."

"Can you try again?"

'What a fucking loser this guy is', thought Rene, 'just give up and go away I got real business here'. Rene tried his best not to join in but couldn't stop himself.

"Hey buddy, the lady says its a no go why don't you just take a seat and let me take care of business."

"Hey, who asked you? Back up will you!"















"I'd watch that tone pal."

The junky turned on Rene, his eyes dilated and red, his face white with little sores on it as if he had his skin picked at.

"Fuck you asshole."

Rene was just about to swing when a security guard appeared from nowhere and beelined to the junky.

"Next in line. Sir you'll have to come back later."

Rene caught that ammonia smell in his sinus' that came just before violence, the adrenaline smell of fists and anger.

The junky gave Rene a shove as he passed and moved quickly out the door.

"Sorry for the inconvenience sir."

"No problem my man."

Rene stepped up to the window experiencing the same feeling as if he were cashing a winning ticket at the track and passed Elaine's check under the slot in the window.

"I'd like to cash this check if I could, please." Rene switched to his sweet persona without the least effort.

"Are you on file here?"

"Why yes ma'am, I am."

"Can I see a photo I.D. please?"

"Sure."

Rene pulled out his wallet and passed his driver's license through to the clerk.

"Some people don't know when to take a break, the jerks you must have to deal with here."

The clerk wasn't buying it. She had seen Rene's type before, in fact most of the people who came before her had tried to pull the same suck up move. With a look ten miles past blase she held up the I.D. and checked it against Rene's face.

"I'll be right back."

She got up from her chair and left Rene alone at the window.

Rene's mind was clear, there wasn't a thought fighting to be heard. All was well, the money would be his in moments.

Marty was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for Elaine to come down. 'Why does Elaine have to have secrets? Doesn't she know she can tell me anything?'.

Elaine was upstairs in the bedroom finishing getting dressed. She wanted to look special this night and she wore her flashiest outfit. She moved to her vanity and got out her jewelry box. Marty had been very generous, as generous as he could and she wanted to find her jade earrings that he had purchased for her for their first wedding anniversary. She held the beautiful stones up and admired them before attaching them to her ears. She remembered the time she had thought she had lost one of the earrings and was so afraid of upsetting Marty that she hadn't told him. Then one day to her surprise it magically appeared back in the jewelry box. She had known Marty had found it but she never mentioned it to him nor he to her.















The phone rang and Marty got up to answer it.

"Hello this is Mary from Fast Check can I speak to..."

Cool To The Touch

"Who is this?"

"Who is this?"

"Who are you two?"















"I'm Polly. This is the weirdest thing, I just logged on to Master Butterfly Eats Yesterday and I now I hear voices coming out of my computer."

"Are you calling me strange?"

"I didn't mean it that way but who are you?"

"I'm Paula and the exact same thing happened to me."

"Me too, I'm Maria."

"What do you think is going on here? This is freaking me out."

"Who said that?"

"Sorry, this is Polly."

"This is Paula and I'm not sure what is happening but I bet Sufferwords is behind it somehow."

"This is Maria and I have a feeling you're right but how did he get in our computers?"

"Who knows, perhaps Sufferwords is some mad computer genius."

"C'mon Paula, you've read his stuff, he uses words and I equate that with being technically illiterate. Besides he's a drummer and if he had any talent at all he would play something with strings or keys."

"I don't know Polly, he must have done something, this didn't happen by accident."

"Why do you think he chose us Maria?"

"I think it is because we comment on the Sufferwords on most days."

"Do you agree Paula?"

"Seems to make sense, by the way where are you?"

"Who?"

"Start with Maria, oh and I'm in Australia."

"I live near the Mediterranean Sea but I don't want Sufferwords to know the country. I make him think I'm from Spain, but he can not be sure. "

"Polly, where are you?"

"I'm in Los Angeles but like Maria I don't want to be too specific."

"You mean you live in the same city as Sufferwords?"

"Yes."

"Isn't there someone missing?"

"Who do you mean?"

"The girl from Memphis, the one who likes the drug stories."

"You're right I wonder why she isn't here? Maria you seem to have some answers what do you think?"

"I can't remember her name either I'll have to check the comments and find her. What I want to know is if Polly has seen him?"

"You're right, well Polly?"

"No. I have only seen the pictures he posted."

"How can you be sure that those pictures are really him, and besides he's only posted two them?"

"I just know and that's all I'm going to say."














"Wait a minute here, is there something you're not telling us?"

"Like have you ever talked to him?"

"No."

"Then how can you be so sure? Sufferwords rigs it so we get together and talk about him, he can surely veil himself with false images."

"I just think if he were to put up phony pictures he would have made himself a lot more handsome."

"You're right there."

"Who does he think he is the Wizard of Oz or something?"

"I don't know Paula...wait...maybe he's listening to us right now."

"You're right Maria, I wouldn't put it past him."

"He wouldn't do that. I think he's nice."

"We know we read your comments remember."

"Oh..."

"Do you -*- the things -*- writes are real stories?"

"I'm losing you Maria -*- cutting in and out."

"I can't -*- you."

"Polly?"

"You're breaking up Paula -*- can't -*- you -*- very good."

"Maria? Are you still there."

"-*-Y vivieron felices y comieron perdices -*-"

"What did she say Polly?"

"I-*-think she -*- happily ever after."

"Polly I'm losing you -*- write -*- comment -*- Sufferwords."















"Paula -*- I -*- know about -*- Sufferwords..."

"Polly?"

"-*- Pau -*-"

" -*- "

" -*- "

Rose Pedals And Cool Nights

He didn't want to do it, who would? Just one more time the back of the hand had caught firm flesh, this time the face. He didn't know where it came from, he only knew that when the time came he couldn't stop himself from doing it. Many a time he had said to himself, to her, to anyone who would listen, that it would never happen again. It always did. He ran from the house, from the tears and the screaming and jumped in the car.

His mind was ablaze. He forced the accelerator down and spun the wheels forward and away to some place, any place. The night was calm and a thin layer of clouds veiled the full moon like the lace hanging over the lamp in their bedroom. There was no place he ought to be and at the speed he was commanding, the road was probably the worst of all. He slowed and stopped at the first neon lights he saw. 'Goldiggers'... drinks and pool.

The last thing he needed was a drink and he needed it more then he ever had before. The bar was dark lonely, or so it seemed to him. There were a few people there and he saw a clear spot at the bar so he set down before it. The bartender was deep in conversation with a couple at the far end of the bar. A bottle blonde and some jean wearing regular were holding sway and then a grand laugh was shared by the merry three. The bartender looked at him, held a finger up, then went back to his conversation. Didn't that bartender know that he needed a drink? One more minute of this and there would be no mistaking the fact.

"What's it gonna be pal?"

He wasn't ready for that question and it caught him like a straight left cross. What did he want? He wanted to go back in time, he wanted to take it all back, that's what he wanted but now that there was no chance of that happening a double J&B on the rocks would have to make do.













"Right away friend."

The bartender flipped a little napkin with a funny cartoon on it down on the bar then turned his back and went to pour. The napkin had the picture of a red nosed booze hound and printed in a dialogue balloon over his head, 'The drinker I get the thimkier I am'.

"J&B double rocks, six bucks."

He dug out seven and left it on the bar. That first blast took him strong and he bit down hard on the fumes. The next was colder as the ice took effect and was easier to swallow. He looked around and saw that nothing had changed. The pool players still shot and sucked long necks, the merry three were back at it and his mind still wouldn't quiet. He did his best to bust the rest and nearly did, ice flushing to his nose and spirits coursing from the corners of his mouth. One last delicious drink and it was gone. Nothing.

"No problem, another J&B double it is."

This time there was no hesitation and his stomach warmed. It was most gone in a cool burning flash.

"Mind if I sit here?"

He was a businessman, cheeks pink and head balded. His suit was clean and his squinty little eyes were clear and concise.

"No, go right ahead."

"What're you drinking?"

"Double J&B rocks."

"Fine choice. Hey bartender one of these for me and on more for my friend." he shouted down the bar pointing at the emptied glass without the least bit of worry.

"I'm not your friend."

"Your not?"

"If you knew me you wouldn't call me a friend at all."

"Oh I'm sure I've seen worse then your likes. In fact I'm sure."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

"Well friend what makes you so bad? What happened? Hit your girl did you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know you just have that look about you."

"Why's that?"

"I guess that was how I looked right after I had given my girl a whack."

"You say that like its no big deal."

"Oh don't get me wrong, it was a very big deal in fact I hated myself for it."














The bartender placed the drinks on the bar and the businessman took out a fine leather billfold and tossed a twenty on the bar. He took his and sipped nice and slow. The businessman just let his cool there by itself.

"I hated myself for years after. It wasn't the first time I had done it, you know hit my girl but it was the last."

"Yeah, I hear that song. I just don't know what gets into me. You know it just comes on me and then as soon as its over, its like... I don't know how it happened. This might be the last time because I know she's done with me."

"Perhaps friend, perhaps."

He finished his drink in two great sips. He was surely starting to feel the effects and he fought it, he wanted to hear what this businessman with the small eyes had to say.

"Made me thirsty too. Real damn thirsty I tell you."

"Well what'd you do?"

"Well I got so thirsty that I had to spend myself some good time drinking. Why don't you have mine, you probably need it more then I do."

"I couldn't do that."

"Go ahead it would make me happy."

He reached over and took the drink. It was cold and wet in his hand and slipped a bit as he tried to raise it to his mouth.

"That sure is nice of you friend."

"See we're friends now aren't we there?"

"I suppose we are."

He felt some relief finally. Maybe the booze was starting to work, it was about time.

"So what did you do? I mean how come you never hit her again, she left you right?"

"You see I never meant to hit her its just that, well, I didn't know any better. I didn't know when I was coming or going for that matter, thought I did. Fact was I thought I knew everything and I was going to be the first one to tell you so."

"Okay?"

"Fact was I didn't know a damn thing. Now it took a lot of drinking and fights and lockups..."

"You been locked up?"

"Oh sure. More then once."

"You sure don't look like it."

The businessman let out a deep robust laugh nearly choking on his pleasure.

"Why thank you so much for that but let me tell you I sure didn't look like this back then."

"When was then?"

"Its been six years already. Damn if time don't just slip right by. My point is this, here I was this guy who thought he knew it all and in fact I didn't know anything and as soon as I found out I didn't know anything then I knew everything."

"You what?"

"I didn't want to hit my girl in fact I know now I didn't even want to know everything."

"I don't want to hit my girl ever again."

"I know you don't. Who would? Sometimes we just don't know any better. So I had to find another way."

"How'd you do that?"













"I drank until I couldn't drink anymore."

"What then?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"You're going to have to find out for yourself."

With that the businessman got up and started to leave the bar. He turned back and smiled as he reached the door...

"See ya friend."

"Yeah, see ya... friend."

Minimum Wage And A Beer Chaser

It was the start of the new school year and at Andasol Elementary it was business as usual. There was the requisite kindergarteners, crying, unable to release their grasps from mommy's leg. First graders lost and frightened by their transition to the new bigger main campus. Smart ass sixth graders running rough shod over the younger kids. It was still summer warm and for the teachers another chance to hopefully reach these balls of energy without the help of a defined seasonal change. For the kids it may have been the start of a new school year but for their young minds and bodies it was still summer playtime.

Billy French and Stevie List had been friends for a long time, at least from the year before in kindergarten. Now as first graders they were new men. Their new teacher was beautiful with long dark hair and a loose fitting summer dress. The first thing Stevie noticed was her smell, he didn't know what flower it was but it was probably the greatest thing he had ever smelled in his whole entire life. Billy and Stevie had been in class with most of these kids the year before but there were a few new faces and one particularly stood out to Billy; Julie Graham.









That first morning was spent with the teacher, Miss Saint Marie getting to know her class and in turn they getting to know her. She told them that she was new at the school and looked forward to spending a great schoolyear with each and every one of them. Stevie noticed that she was almost constantly smiling and saying nice things, he liked that a whole lot too. She had the class stand then form a large circle and one by one introduce themselves. One by one each child said their names. Billy watched in anticipation, a funny feeling gaining hold right there in the middle of his belly and when it came for Julie Graham to say her name he could hardly stand it anymore.

"My name is Julie Graham and I act in t.v. commercials. I've done McDonalds and Frosted Flakes."

Billy was smitten, this was his first crush and he nearly burst into flames. She was so pretty and she was a movie star to boot. He wondered if she got to eat as much McDonalds as she wanted? Could anything ever in the whole world be as great as that?
He wondered if she got to meet Tony the Tiger? That would have been really great. When it came time to say his name he could barely get the words out of his mouth. He looked at his chest, swung his arms back and forth and in a barely audible whisper intimated that he was Billy French. Miss Saint Marie was smiling even more then usual and the rest of the kids didn't seem to notice that his face had turned a bright pink.

After they had had their juice and enough time fidgeting at their desks the morning recess was called. Miss Saint Marie had them line up in twos, boys next to girls, and holding on to each others hands, she led them to the playground.

As soon as they were on the blacktop Billy and Stevie ran to each other.

"I think Miss Saint Marie is really the best." gushed Stevie.

"Yeah I think she's really, really, good too."

"She's going to be the best teacher I ever am going to ever have, ever."

"That girl Julie was in a McDonalds commercial. Do you think they let her eat as much McDonalds as she wanted?"

"That would really be the greatest ever."

"Yeah I know."

"I got to go the bathroom."

"Okay bye."

Stevie walked over to a bathroom marked 'boys' at the end of one of the classroom buildings. When he entered he was amazed, he had never seen anything like it. In kindergarten there was two little stalls that sat side by side, one for girls one for boys. This bathroom had urinals and Stevie had never used one before. He saw another kid standing in front of one peeing and so he walked to the one directly next to him. He pulled on his pants and the elastic waistband let them drop to his knees and with them came his underwear...

"Hey there's a kid in here stripping!", shouted the kid at the next urinal.

Stevie looked all around but couldn't see the kid who was stripping.

"Where is he? Where is he." Stevie said. If there was a kid stripping he wanted to see it, this new school was going to be the greatest thing ever.

"Its you retard. Are you mental or something?" said the kid pointing at Stevie.

Stevie fought hard and did not cry. He pulled up his pants and ran with all his might back to his class. He ran over to Billy then looked back and saw the kid pointing at him from across the yard and he was laughing at him.















"Stevie guess what?"

Stevie looked to Billy and tried to pay attention.

"What?"

"Julie Graham came over and socked me in the arm."

"Why did she do that?"

"I don't know but this is going to be the really greatest year ever in the whole wide world."

The Price Of A Cup Of Coffee

There was a lilt to the evening. The moon, full, shown magnificently down and reflected vainly on the lake. The breeze was more of an idea then a reality and the smell of night blooming jasmine made itself known every so often. There were tables dressed in white linen spread star like across the great expanse of verdant lawn. Candles flickered on the tables and a great floral bouquet, ten feet tall, pastel and eloquent stood as the centerpiece to the magical affair. The summer was to be celebrated this eve and silver clinked on china and glasses were refilled beyond their rims without any hesitation.

The main house sat up a sloping grass hill back from the lakeshore, it's four roman columns lit softly from below giving the impression of four large candles protecting the stately old dame. On the veranda there were assembled a small orchestra. The sound filtered down from the porch past the tables and then mutedly over the lake.

The women in their evening dresses of soft summer colors and their white suited dates danced here and there among the tables and by the band...

'Only you can make this change in me
For it's true you are my destiny
When you hold my hand I understand
The magic that you do
You're my dream come true
My one and only you'

They sat at the table unsure of what to do. They had just met and although their conversation came easy there was a tension building...

"I didn't stay long, six months in New York was plenty enough for me." He said afraid of his perceived arrogance.

"Oh I agree, I mean I do love the city but I couldn't live there. Where did you go next?" It was a ploy of hers, keep him talking. She was surely interested in what he had to say but was unsure of how much of herself she should reveal.

"I came back home, I'll always live in Los Angeles, I will always travel too but I know that this is my home and I just can't ever see leaving. How about you?"

The evenings events were spinning in her head. She had never seen such a beautiful home and grounds.

"I'm not sure where I'll end up."

He felt a pang of sadness, he had just met her, had he already lost her?



"Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm fine."

They sat next to each other and watched as the people at the other tables laughed and flirted.

'Only you can make this world seem right
Only you can make the darkness bright
Only you and you alone
Can thrill me like you do
And fill my heart with love for only you'

The song lyric was impossible to ignore and then their eyes accidentally met. They held the gaze a moment and then a moment longer. Everything he ever wanted to say to a girl he wanted to say to her. There was a fury of thoughts and ideas forcing their way to his lips and their onslaught overwhelmed his ability to make them known and so he looked away to gain his composure.

He looked to the lake and saw a boat floating alone. 'How could that boat be anchored so far from shore? They would have had to swim in from there'.

He reached out and took her hand.

"I've always dreamed of a night like this."

"So have I."

"Let's us, the two of us make it that night. Will you do that with me? I have seen this before. I know it by heart. I see myself under a moon swollen yellow and full dancing by the edge of a lake, barefoot with a girl as beautiful as you."

She felt his hand and knew. It was that kind of night. Without saying a word she let loose his hand and moved herself back in her chair. She reached below the table and a moment later she held out her shoes to him.

The grass was cool under their feet. He held her close and they swayed and saw the moon flicker, wink, in the reflection of the water.














'Only you can make this change in me
For it's true you are my destiny
When you hold my hand I understand
The magic that you do
You're my dream come true
My one and only you'

No Time For A Sunny Day

Flash west on the 101.

Fool driver won't back down at fifty in the fast lane.

Turn signals are now extinct haven't you heard.

Smoke belching truck at danger speed veers left and toys with the launching of a tricked Toyota.

E is for empty and F is for full. Grip, grip, grip the wheel it summer burns in your hands.

Build the barrier higher in the Cahuenga Pass no death near Universal keep it in The City of Industry.

Faster damn you my time needs supersede your value as a human.

Melt me another dinosaur I'm getting hungry.

The vote is in, brown wins blue is too pre-automobile breathe, breathe, breathe.

We are lonely so we must all get together and sit side by side dead stop on the 101.

Get me on the 101.














No 134. No 405. No 110. No 70. No 5. No, no, no.

Get me off the 101.

Get me to Sunset. Give me the sunset. Let the sunset.

Sunset.

She's Like Heroin To Me

'She is like an eye-blue swimming pool
But she will never know that she is there,
We sit together drunk like our fathers used to be,
I'm looking up and God is saying, "What are you gonna do?"
I'm looking up and I'm crying, "I thought it was up to you!"

Jeffrey Lee Pierce r.i.p.


"I don't know what she's thinking?"

"I don't know but I have a pretty good idea."

It was morning and the heat was unbearable. It might not have even been hot that day but for Pat and The Chief their skin, their blood, boiled; they were sick. They had scraped up enough money, or at least Pat had, to get a few bags and The Chief went along for the ride with the assumption that he would get a kick down for facilitating the deal. They peddled their stolen bicycles down side streets that ran south a mile west of Alvarado. In a cruel twist of fate, they both, like two women whose close proximity puts them on the same menstrual cycle, were about to lose their bowels.


















The bicycles leaned against the wall outside the front door of the IHOP on the corner of Wilshire Street and Shatto Place.

"I'm going in first Chief you watch the bikes."

"Oh c'mon Pat, I can't stand it another minute."

"Chief! Watch the bikes!"

The Chief stood alone out front as Pat went in. He was sick on his way to being too sick. Pat came out of the IHOP a few minutes later but he didn't look any better, in fact he looked worse then when he went in.

"Hurry up Chief."

The Chief didn't hear Pat he was already scrambling by the morning diners and their Rooty Tooty Good and Fruity breakfasts; the smell made him gag.

Pat was already on his bike when The Chief exited.

"What took you so long?"

Then Pat sped away, well he went as fast as his cramping legs might allow. The Chief was dripping sweat and his skin had gone from an unhealthy pallor to an unhealthy pallor with a fire engine red forehead.

"Pat wait up."

The Chief peddled for all he was worth and a few blocks later sidled up beside the slowing Pat.

"Pat don't you think she would have gotten the hint, I mean no one wants her there, she doesn't have a room, she doesn't pay rent. Does she think its cool to just lay on the couch all day?"

"Chief you don't pay rent either."

"I know but at least I have a room."

"Only because Mike is your best friend."

"So. I think she should leave already, she doesn't even kick down and she always has money and stuff."

"She sells her pussy for that money, you want to sell your pussy, oh that's right you don't have one you just bitch like you do."

Pat knew he could push The Chief around because he had the money and he controlled their fate. He would have never brought him along but for the fact that The Chief knew the scene far better then he and he was afraid he might get ripped, he was afraid to do the deal, he was afraid of everything but The Chief.

"I don't think she's that bad. I think she's pretty."

"Oh shit, of course she's pretty but I aint going to pay for it."

They were now a block west of Ninth and Bonnie Brae and they pulled the bikes to the curb. A police car rolled by and they acted cool, just a couple of guys on bikes going for a morning ride if you will officer.

"Dude give me the scratch."

"I swear if you burn me Chief..."

"I won't burn you."

"You better not and remember you get it then give all, and I mean all of it to me and then I'll kick you down."

"Don't worry just give me the money and I'll meet you at McArthur Park."

"Okay."

Pat handed him the money immediately feeling he had made the wrong decision. There was a good chance he might not see The Chief for days.

"Shit."

The Chief counted the money, thirty bucks, put it in his shirt pocket and rode down the street. Pat watched him go then turned his bike around and headed back towards Alvarado. 'What gives him the right to talk about her the fucking loser?'.

The Chief rolled up to a stop sign and looked at the big white apartment building. He hid his the bike in the bushes, praying against all odds it would still be there when he returned. Maybe he should have brought Pat to watch the bike but then Pat would be a bust if the cops came and anyways he needed the time away from him to pinch the bags.

He walked up towards the parking garage and made contact with a set of eyes standing on the sidewalk. The Chief nodded and the lookout let out a high pitched whistle. The Chief was cool in this environment even when he was sick, he relished the hustle it was almost as good as the dope. Another whistle came from a window high above and then he saw another set of eyes peer out from behind the gated garage. He flashed the money and the gate opened. It was quick, this was a pro operation and the bags were flat and sticky.


Pat sat in the park and looked across the intersection of 7th and Alvarado to Langer's delicatessen. He used to eat at Langer's back when he still ate. The corner was thick with hustlers trying to move fake I.D.'s and Pat was getting tired of shooing them away. Just what he needed another I.D. so he could fuck up that life too. Just when he thought he might spend the rest of his life waiting for The Chief to show, to his surprise, he saw him riding in heavy traffic on Alvarado.

The Chief crossed the street and joined Pat. He looked awful and Pat considered this a hopeful sign and the Chief knew it. If he had returned well there might be hell to pay, show up sick and Pat might not catch him for shorting the issue.

"Give it to me, all of it."

"Not here, wait until we get out of the park."

"Fuck that. The deal was, fuck it, just give it to me!"

"You think I'm going to burn you?"

"You shouldn't have asked that question because you already know the answer so just hand it over and we can go get well."

The Chief looked casually around and pretended he was laughing as he reached over and gave the stash to Pat.

"Where to?"

"Gaylord is always good."

Pat didn't wait for an answer. The Gaylord was only three blocks away and he wasn't going to wait another second. Before they knew it they were outside the Gaylord on Wilshire Blvd. The Gaylord was an apartment building famous for it's proximity to the Ambassador hotel and for having in it's previous incarnation been a hotel famous for housing Sirhan Sirhan the night before he assassinated Bobby Kennedy.

With the dope in hand the securing of the bicycles was no longer an issue, once they were well they could roll with anything, missing bikes or not.

"Play it cool we have to get by the guard at the desk so just follow my lead."

"I'm not giving it to you until we are in the bathroom so don't try anything."

"Okay, okay. Just try not to look sick and act like we're just a couple of guys I need of the john."

"Alright let's go already."

They opened the front door to the once grand building and entered.

"Right, so you like her do you?"

Pat couldn't believe that The Chief wouldn't let this one go. He would have given it to him but they needed to act cool. Pat talked through a insincere smile.

"You are an ass Chief but see I'm smiling."

"Bathroom to the right, don't be in a hurry."

They walked past The Bounty Lounge and entered the large reception area. Pat beelined for the bathroom but the Chief slowed. The guard was sitting behind his desk but there was someone with him. The Chief marked him for a cop and then casually made his way into the bathroom.



Upon entering The Chief called out to Pat.

"We have to do this quick."

"Why do you say that shit about her fucker?"

The Chief heard Pat's voice and took a stall next to him.

"I think they're on to us, hurry give me a piece."

"Who's on to us."

"I think there is a cop with the guard."

"Fuck, here take this."

The Chief already had his works out as Pat put his hand under the stall and passed him a small chip, just as he expected he would. The Chief added his pinch to the little piece Pat had given him, he knew he had to be fast even if he was going to be busted he didn't want to do it sick. Again like women they were both just about to hit when the bathroom door opened.

"I think they're using drugs in here."

There was silence as Pat and The Chief fixed. Too quiet. The Chief acted fast. He rolled a huge wad of toilet paper from the roll and quietly dipped it in the toilet water. He stood to give maximum effect and then dropped it with a loud plop into the toilet...

"Unnnnnh, unnnnnnh, oooooh, phew." Again plop.

"I suppose they really needed to use the facilities."

There was the sound of footsteps and then door opened and closed again. More silence but this time sans the tension.



It was a beautiful day. White cumulus clouds rolled overhead against the crystal azure. The Ambassador had been repainted and gleamed in all her beauty. The streets were clean and all the people on them smiling.

"I guess she's not so bad, you know if she wants to stay then maybe she should stay."

"Yeah man. She's really a great girl. I'm going to get her to go straight. You know I'm going to kick?"

"Me too man, me too. I'll do it tomorrow."

"You and me buddy we can do it. We can do it tomorrow."

Hey Didn't They Film Swingers Here? Part XXV

Marty watched from the upstairs bedroom window as Rene exited the Pinto and walked casually to the mailbox. Rene felt he held all the cards and with assured arrogance took the envelope from out of the mailbox, and so to flaunt his position left it open. He didn't care if Marty found out, that would be Elaine's problem. Rene looked up to the bedroom window but due to the time of day could not see inside. He didn't care.

Marty peered down from above and saw Rene cock his head up. It struck him odd for it appeared Rene was looking right at him, almost as if he were looking right through him. He saw Rene smile at him and so he raised his hand and gave a little wave of recognition feeling foolish as soon as he had finished. To Marty's ultimate chagrin Rene simply turned his back and got back in the Pinto and without a hint of further recognition, leaving a small puff of smoke in his wake, drove off.

Elaine entered the bedroom quietly and then seeing Marty at the window hurried herself into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Are you done in here dear?"

Marty was still at a loss over what he had seen. What could Rene have been up to?

"Yes... Elaine?"

Elaine quickly grabbed her toothbrush and turned on the bath water. There was a tap on the door.

"Elaine."



"One minute dear. I can't hear you the water is running I'll be out in a sec, I'm just running a bath."

Marty didn't bother to answer, why should he? Elaine couldn't hear him anyways; she had even said so. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited patiently. He wasn't worried but he was befuddled by Rene's actions, the fact was the entire day had been a riddle and he wasn't too convinced he wanted it solved.

Elaine brushed her teeth and then rinsed with Scope. There was alcohol in the Scope and Elaine fooled herself into thinking that it would cover her breath from Marty. She disrobed and then wrapped a towel around herself. She still looked good for her age and Marty was as smitten with her form as he was the day they had first been totally as one.

Elaine came into the bedroom, the bath water raging and echoing behind her. She sat beside Marty on the bed and put her head on his shoulder.

"You shouldn't bathe dear, I would hate for the water to wash away your smell."

"Marty." That was all Elaine could manage. Neither the progression of time nor the sometimes endless succession of daily worries could change the fact that she was still madly in love with her husband. Why couldn't they just stay right here, like this, just the two of them, forever? Why did the world have to intrude on their passion?

"Elaine I just saw the strangest thing."

Marty felt Elaine tense.

"I was looking out the window and Rene pulled up in an old car and got an envelope out of our mailbox. Then he looked up to me and smiled."

"Oh that. His car is in the shop so I gave him his paycheck a few days early."

Elaine felt awful. She tried not to lie to Marty but she had become ever increasingly able to do so and she hated herself for it.

"Why didn't he just get it at the restaurant?"

"I never really thought of it, he called and asked if he could pick it up and without thinking I said yes."

"Do you think he's on drugs? I've been through that and its the one thing I won't stand for."

"I know dear, I'll never forgive Art Pepper for what he did to you."

"He's dead."

"I know dear and I don't think Rene is on drugs."

"It was the oddest thing he looked right up at me and smiled, so I waved back. I don't know why I did it, he couldn't have seen me."

"I wouldn't worry about it. Listen...I'm going to take a bath and I promise not to scrub too hard then we'll go have dinner and then later tonight we'll wow 'em."

"Sure, sure. You do that. I don't know why but I feel we should celebrate."

"Okay then, its a deal."

Elaine got up and went into the bathroom. After she had closed the door Marty sat in silence. He knew she had lied to him, he always knew when she was lying, that was love. He didn't care what she was lying about, he really didn't care that she had lied. What he did care about was Elaine so he had brought up the celebration so she wouldn't feel so bad about betraying their trust.















Marty went downstairs and took a seat at the kitchen table. On the table the brochure with the smiling face of happy real estate agent Peter Kinnaird stared up at him. Marty picked up the brochure, he held in his hands, barely looking at it, and then slowly placed it back down onto the kitchen table...face down.

A Freshly Wrapped Box Of Chocolates For An Amputee

It was Jimmy Colliers' easy escape. He knew he wanted something but he didn't know what it was. He looked online and he shopped in stores but he just didn't see that one thing that he somehow knew he was on a quest to find. He walked the corridors of the large indoor malls and peered in every store window. He saw the high tech electronics store but he already had a television and he couldn't see why someone would buy a digital device for listening to music, he was fine with vinyl and his vintage stereo at home was warm and he loved it's sound.

The stores that sold clothes held no interest for him. He had enough clothes in fact he had summer, winter, fall and spring clothes. What would he do with even more clothes? He looked in the record store and although he saw some titles that interested him he knew that wasn't what he was looking for. He looked at major appliances, 'why would anyone get a dishwasher?', Jimmy loved to wash his dishes by hand.

Jimmy knew not to become frustrated at his situation. He had been in this spot before and in the past it always just seemed to work out. With this in mind you would think that he would just relax and wait for whatever it was to come to him but Jimmy couldn't help himself. He was compelled to look, to seek, whatever it was that was out there that was alluding him.















Tired form his search Jimmy returned home. He went to his records and pulled a special album out and placed it upon the turntable. He lovingly placed the tonearm down on the record and listened. The song was one of his favorites and he listened causally until...

And if it's just a game
Then we'll hold hands just the same
So what, we're bleeding but we ain't cut

And I could purge my soul perhaps
For the imminent collapse
Oh yeah, I'll tell you what we could do
You be me for a while and
I'll be you

Then it struck him. He walked out to the mail box and in it sat a letter. He came back inside and sat in his chair. He used a knife to slice the letter open then carefully extracted it's contents; one printed page.

Dear Jerry,

I have missed you so. I was sorry to have to leave you and I hope you'll understand that I meant you no harm. I still remember that day when you first played me that song by the Replacements, I'll always remember that. I'll always remember you. I keep looking for you in other people but you're just not there. Please don't be mad at me I'll write again when I am able.

Again Sorry.

Love,

Me



Jerry examined the envelope but there was no return address. The hunger in him subsided and he sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. As the record played to it's conclusion images and memories of those days flashed before his eyes. He was not sad, he was okay with his past.




click

click

click

click

So Glad We Could Spend This Time Together

"Polk Salad Annie."

"Begin The Beguine."

"Everyday I Write The Book."

"What A Wonderful World."

"Whole Lotta Love."

"Thirteen."

"Boy About Town."

"Artificial."

"Richie Dagger's Crime."

"What's New Pussycat."

They stared straight ahead, their gazes fixed into one another's eyes. It was a rock off. There was no logic just a challenge to stare and unhesitatingly call out song titles. The first one to flinch or stammer was the loser. It had been over a half an hour. The game was on and though the rules left room for any song title there was an understanding that the better the song the stronger the player.

"Virginia Avenue."

"Misterioso."

"In Walked Bud."

"Meet Me In St Louis."

"I'm The One."

"Itchicoo Park."

"Innagadda-davida."

"She's About A Mover."

"Friday On My Mind."

"Life Of Crime."

"Smoke Gets In Your Eyes."

"Pushin' Too Hard."

"Sometimes Good Guys Don't Wear White."

"Oh Yoko."

The game was entering it's third hour and the resolve of the participants could not be questioned. Something would have to happen to break the deadlock; there were just too many songs.














"How Much Is That Doggy In The Window."

"Jesus Christ Superstar."

"The Star Spangled Banner."

Then there was silence. Tears began to stream from both their eyes. The game that they had played with such vigor and determination all of a sudden was no longer fun.

There was no winner.