Archive for the ‘literature/stories’ Category

The Making of Wu Youming

November 2, 2009

As promised, here is the first article about the educational world in China. As you will see, it has nothing to do with education per se; but it does have something to do with the kind of people who work in that bizarre little world: narrow-minded, petty, racist. This is my rendering of a particular vicious incidence of character assassination. It is in film (TV) format, though I also wrote it for theatre.

You will see that the characters are “letters”: there are no names but for the woman who was persecuted and ruined via rumor. Her name is Wu Youming吴有名, which could be read as Nobody Famous or The Famous Nobody (Wu being a family name that is homonomous with “nobody,” and youming meaning “famous”). It is pure and simple revenge on the part of L, M, G and C (though C is just a toady).

The irony is that by running her to ground, these character assassins actually made her famous, she wasn’t important enough to make a big deal over. The play/film was written about a year ago. I spent alot of time writing social satire, first in theatre 40 years ago, then in prose. I love Absurdism. I pull no punches.

Any filmmaker who would like to film this and show it, please do so. Anyone who wants the play script, please ask. So…The Making of Wu Youming.

 The Making of 吴有名 

Blank screen

White noise

Titles:

The Making of吴有名

Written by: James L. Secor

Directed by:

 

PLACE: A copse of trees. Idyllic. 

TIME: Dusk. 

                 ANGLE: From the side and behind 吴有名. Still camera. 

Silence. 

The only noise is that accompanying the action. 

A dirty street person (woman) shuffles into the scene. This is 吴有名. 

Ruffles her rags. Scratches her ass. 

As she makes her way into the trees. . . 

Voice Over: A formal, serious Master of Ceremonies voice telling the TV audience a secret. If he speaks too loudly, the old woman might hear him. 

                                                 Voice Over

This is 吴有名. That is not her real name. That has long been forgotten. 吴有名 is how she is known. During the bad times, everyone suffered. Perhaps the richer sorts more than the others. My father knew the man who ran the local tavern so I went to work. Workers came here and the out-of-sorts due to the bad times, the better sort and the pretenders. And吴有名. No one really knew who she was. She never said. Always, it was, “I’m just nobody. A figment of your imagination. Don’t even pay attention to me.” But everyone did.

“Hey, look! Nobody’s here!” would be the inevitable shout when 吴 showed up at the door.

Sometimes, she would growl back, “If I’m nobody, how can I be here?”

And everyone laughed.

吴有名 was the local joke. Downing her was a way to make everyone else feel better. The times, they were not good.

吴 never came into the tavern. She would sit on the jamb and call for her wine. It was my job to take her her wine. She had no job that anyone knew of. It was rumored, though, she’d once been a teacher. But she gave that up. No one knew why. Some of the patrons called her “professor” on account of her past life and because she would often talk about things no one understood. When she began, everyone would egg her on and tease her and laugh at her outpourings of gibberish– gibberish to them and to a 13-year old as well. Though I laughed with the others and did not understand much at all of what 吴 said, I nevertheless felt she was somehow–different. Under my skin, I knew she knew something the rest of us didn’t. Her eyes were more intense, less dry. They should have been empty because of her situation. She was more real to me than everybody else. How can I explain that? 

By this time, 吴有名 has disappeared into the woods. 

ANGLE: Hold still-camera and. . .

 IRIS IN TO SEPIA. 

IRIS OUT. 

PLACE: The bedroom of a house. Everything is white. Sparsely furnished. No windows. 

TIME: Mid-day, bright and sunny. 

ANGLE: From above and slightly off centre. 

                                                 Voice Over

This is a bedroom.                        

ANGLE: Camera pans around the room.

Stops at a clothes closet. 

                                                 Voice Over

This is a closet. It is dark in there. A small little room. Confining. It is a place for storing things. Usually clothes. But sometimes people live in closets. 

Suddenly, the closet door flies open. 

ANGLE: Close-up of a multitude of masks crowded together in the closet. 

                                                 Voice Over

And on the inside of the door is written. . . 

ANGLE: Slow pan around to sign on door. Fills TV screen. 

SIGN READS: No Exit. 

Pause. 

       ANGLE: Camera pulls away for a long shot of the closet with open door. 

But now there are only three men crushed into the closet, their masks staring out at the camera. 

ANGLE: Hold. 

                                                 Voice Over

It is a very narrow world in there. But it is all the world they’ve got. Centred on themselves, they like to impose their worldview on everyone outside, anyone who doesn’t fit with their closed belief of how things are. Anyone they think threatens them is ripe for a revaluing. 

The closet door slowly closes and latches itself shut. 

Banging around in the closet. 

SLOW FADE TO SEPIA AS. . . 

                                                 Voice Over

When the door’s closed too long, it begins to smell in there. 

BLACKOUT. 

LIGHTS UP. 

PLACE: An office. Typical office. But the desk is over-sized, as is the other furniture. The room is stark white. The furniture is brown, resembling piles of shit. 

TIME: Late afternoon. 

A short man sits behind the desk. He is almost lost. He wears a mask. The mask is of a well-groomed, debonnaire businessman. It is slightly too big for his head. This is Mr. L. 

Sitting on the sofa is a somewhat less formally dressed man, also in a mask that is too large for his head. He is taller than Mr. L. This man is smoking. When one cigarette is finished, he lights another. This is Mr. M. 

                                                 Mr. L

We have a problem. 

                                                 Mr. M

We do? 

                                                 L

We do. 

                                                 M

What is it? 

                                                 L

One of our staff is misbehaving. 

                                                 M

Oh, no! Not again! 

                                                 L

Different one. 

                                                 M

Oh? Who? 

                                                 L

Miss吴. 

                                                 M

Nice Miss吴? 

                                                 L

A wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

                                                 M

I knew it. I just knew it. 

                                                 L

Me too. 

                                                 M

They’re all really too much alike. 

                                                 L

So! (Stands) We must do something about it. 

Mr. L goes to the chair near the sofa and sits. 

                                                 L

Before things get out of hand. 

Mr. L lights a cigarette. L & M smoke awhile. 

As the scene progresses, the smoke haze grows thicker and thicker. They adjust by raising their voices til they are shouting at each other because they cannot see each other. 

                                                   M

What do you suggest we do? 

                                                   L

Find corroborating evidence.

                                                   M

You mean dig up more dirt? 

                                                   L

No, no. Digging up what’s been left behind. She’s obviously hiding something. 

                                                   M

Or she wouldn’t be here. 

                                                   L

Exactly. If she’s really who she says she is, she wouldn’t be in this backwater. 

                                                   M

Yes. Of course. It’s the way of the world. 

L & M smoke for a bit, contrapuntally. 

                                                   M

Why do they think we are so stupid we won’t see this? 

                                                   L

Racial prejudice. 

                                                   M

Ah. Yes. Always right. 

                                                   L

Superior. 

                                                   M

But we are not so stupid. 

                                                   L

No indeed not. We are very intelligent and insightful. 

                                                   M

We have a long history of intelligence and. . .stuff. Stuff like that. 

                                                   L

And so we find things out. 

Smoking continues

                                                   M

How do we do it? 

                                                   L

We’re missing something. 

                                                   M

Yes! We are! 

                                                   L

Let us take another look at her resume.

                                                    M

Yes. Let’s. 

Mr. L retrieves several sheets of paper from his desk, returns to chair, hands one piece of paper to Mr. M. 

They peruse the pages, holding them up against their noses. They grunt like pigs. 

They switch pages and repeat. 

They switch pages several times. 

                                                   M

I find nothing. 

                                                   L

Me neither. 

                                                   M

This must not be all.

                                                    L

Hiding something. 

                                                   M

As you say.

 Although L & M have been lighting up before, it is necessary that they light up now, filling the air with great beginning puffs of smoke. 

                                                   L

Ask for a complete resume.

                                                   M

Isn’t this it?

                                                   L

She’s obviously hiding something. 

                                                   M

Ahhhh. . .yes.

                                                   L

Then we will jump on her. 

                                                   M

How do you know she’ll do it? 

                                                   L

They’re all the same. What do they know about subtlety and cunning? We have a long history of language ambiguity and hiding our minds behind smiling eyes and gentle winning ways. 

                                                   M

Stupid to the point of ridiculousness. Easy pickings.

                                                   L

In the meantime, I’ll investigate her house. 

                                                   M

How will you do that? 

                                                   L

I have connections. 

                                                   M

Oh. Those guys. 

                                                   L

Yes. Those guys. 

                                                   M

We’re bound to find something, then. 

                                                   L

It’s inevitable.

FADE OUT. 

FADE UP. 

PLACE: A different office with the same furniture rearranged.

TIME: Late afternoon. A slant of sunlight slices through the room. 

Mr. G sits at his computer. He is doing nothing. He is about the same age as Mr. M.  

Mr. M appears at the open door and knocks. 

Mr. G turns in his chair. He is wearing a mask. Too big for him. A dapper, superior-looking mask as befits his nattily dressed figure. He is a smooth, controlled talker.

                                                   Mr. G

Yes? Come in. 

                                                   M

I’m Mr. M. 

                                                   G

Ahh! Mr. M. Welcome. Welcome. Come in. Come in. 

Mr. G goes to Mr. M and shakes his hand, guides him to the chair. 

Mr. G stands a moment looking down on Mr. M. Mr. M looks up to Mr. G 

Mr. G sits on sofa, far from Mr. M

                                                   G

I’m glad you could come. 

                                                   M

I’ve come about Miss吴. 

                                                   G

Yes. Yes. I remember her well. Caused quite a stir here. Upset the smooth running of everything. Even questioned me, of all people. Can you imagine? 

                                                   M

Yes. She is a problem.

                                                   G

Yes. I mean. . .who does she think she is? I’m the internationally known translator and Bible expert. 

                                                   M

And Dean.                                                    G

Yes, yes. Indeed. I am that. (Pause. Claps hands together) So! What can I do for you? 

                                                   M

It’s Miss吴. 

                                                   G

So you said. 

                                                   M

We want to know if she did anything similar down here to what she’s done up there. With us. 

                                                   G

And what might that be? 

                                                   M

It seems–(Coughs)–she likes little boys. 

                                                   G

Is that so? Well. . .oh, yes! I do recall something like that. Seduced– sexually abused a young boy student. Yes. Very terrible, sad thing. (Pause) Is that the kind of thing you’re looking for? 

                                                   M

Yes. Exactly. 

                                                   G

Glad to be of help. Will there be anything else?

                                                   M

Could we see the boy? 

                                                   G

Ah, no. I’m afraid not. He’s. . .not here, you know. So traumatized we had to send him home. We can’t have you disturbing the poor innocent.

                                                   M

No, no. Of course not. We would like you to come up and talk with Mr. L, my superior. And perhaps sign a statement. 

                                                   G

Ahhh. No. No. I can’t do that. No, no. Too many responsibilities down here. I’m the dean, you know. People rely on me. And there’s a great school event we’re involved in carrying off. Perhaps you saw the banners. . . 

                                                   M

No. I saw no banners. 

                                                   G

Well. . .perhaps they’ve not gotten them up–as they should. (Goes to window and looks out) You know how some workers are. Let me see. . .I’ll just make a note of that. . . (Scribbles on a scrap of paper) Anything else 

                                                   M

We are willing to make it worth your while. 

                                                   G

Well, now. . .let me check my calendar. . . 

Mr. G goes to computer and messes around a bit. 

Turns in chair. 

                                                   G

It looks like I could manage to sneak away for a day or two. I find I’m really not needed right away after all. My secretary can take care of things. Delightfully competent young lady. And quite alluring, too. 

Mr. G rubs his hands together. Licks his lips. 

BLACKOUT. 

                                                   G

(Voice in blackout) I’ll show you to best me! I’ll ruin you! I’ll stomp you into the ground. You. . .you. . . 

LIGHTS UP. 

PLACE: Mr. L’s office. 

TIME: Evening. Full moon visible out the window. 

Mr. L and Mr. M at door, having just seen Mr. G out.  

They look at each other. 

They offer each other a cigarette. 

They shake hands. 

Mr. L. and Mr. M go to sofa and chair and light up. 

                                                   M

Imagine. . .finding the filthy, dirty proof so easily. 

                                                   L

Yes. We are good. But you know. . . 

                                                   M

What?

                                                   L

She is so stupid to leave it lying around for all to see.

                                                   M

They are all so stupid. 

                                                   L

Especially to think that we are so stupid. 

                                                   M

That we would not find it. 

                                                   L

Luckily Mr. G was around and had a story to tell. 

                                                   M

Very convincing story, too.                                                  

                                                   L

Can you imagine even thinking you could get away with something so disgusting. 

                                                   M

I would never think of such a thing. Even with Miss C. 

                                                   L

Oh, yes. She is very. . . 

                                                   M

Delicious. 

                                                   L

Yes. Delicious. 

Phone rings. 

Mr. L goes to desk to answer it. 

                                                   L

Yah? . . . Oh? . . . Right out in the open? . . . How disgusting. . . . Eh? You’re kidding! . . . Oh. Thank you for keeping me posted, Miss C. (Hangs up. To Mr. M) That was Miss C. 

                                                   M

Ah. She is a good spy. 

                                                   L

Yes, she is. And Miss吴 does not know. She tells her everything and Miss C sifts through it for the truth she knows lies hidden in there. 

Mr. L and Mr. M laugh and puff their cigarettes. 

Mr. L returns to his chair, carrying his phone with him. 

                                                   M

What did Miss C say? 

                                                   L

Miss吴 hugs the boys in public. 

                                                   M

Oh. That is disgusting. 

                                                   L

In the school yard where everyone can see. 

                                                   M

I mean! 

                                                   L

She doesn’t even try to hide it. 

                                                   M

Miss C tells me they visit her house often on the weekends. 

                                                   L

Oh? She tells me it is only one boy. 

                                                   M

One boy? 

                                                   L

The public displays of affection are only cover for what happens in her house. Of course. 

                                                   M

How sneaky. 

                                                   L

Devious. 

Mr. L and Mr. M smoke. 

                                                   L

We found spots on the bed clothes. 

                                                   M

Really? Stiff white ones? 

                                                   L

Of course. I don’t think she washes her sheets. 

                                                   M

Likes to revel in the deed 

                                                   L

Yes. Disgusting. 

                                                   M

Who is the boy? 

                                                   L

Little N. 

                                                   M

How interesting. 

                                                   L

Yes. Isn’t it. 

                                                   M

You’d think he would know better. 

                                                   L

Oh, you know. . .boys today. It’s the only thing they think of. She just takes advantage of the situation. 

                                                   M

It must be the only thing she thinks of, too. 

                                                   L

Doubtless. 

                                                   M

Not like our day. 

                                                   L

Certainly not. 

Mr. L and Mr. M smoke. 

The phone rings. 

                                                   L

Yah? . . .Oh. Hi, sweet thing. . . . Hmm? . . .You must go away for another meeting? . . . I was so hoping you’d be around this weekend, I’m feeling particularly randy. . . . Yes, yes. I know. . . . Yes. I can fend for myself. I’m a big boy, you know. . . . Alright. ‘Bye, dear. (To Mr. M) That was my wife. 

                                                   M

Ah. Off on another business trip? 

                                                   L

Yes. So very many. 

                                                   M

There is a nice young girl at the massage parlor. 

                                                   L

Yes? 

                                                   M

Yes. Must be all of 14 or 15. Nice pert little breasts. No stretch marks. 

                                                   L

Yes? 

                                                   M

Yes. Cherry red nipples that stand right up. 

                                                   L

White skin? 

                                                   M

Like milk. 

                                                   L

Hair? 

                                                   M

Shaved. 

                                                   L

Ooh! How nice. 

                                                   M

She’ll do anything you ask. 

                                                   L

Really? 

                                                   M

Yes. And not so very expensive, all things considering. 

                                                   L

Pity she’s not a virgin. 

                                                   M

There are no more of them at that age. 

                                                   L

Not like the old days. 

                                                   M

Not like our wives. 

                                                   L

Yes. . .what has happened to the world? No more purity. 

Phone rings. 

                                                   L

Yah? . . . What?! (Jumps up) What? . . . What? . . . You’re kidding. . . . Damn! . . . Alright. You know who to talk to. (To Mr. M) She’s slipping through the net. 

                                                   M

What? How could she. 

                                                   L

I don’t know. We didn’t do anything to tip her off. 

                                                   M

No, no, no. But she’s so disgusting, it’s hard to talk to her. 

                                                   L

Yes. Or even be pleasant. 

Pause. 

                                                   M

How do you know? 

                                                   L

Miss C’s with her now. At the train depot. 

                                                   M

Damn! 

                                                   L

She was going to leave without telling us. 

                                                   M

That’s breaking the contract. 

                                                   L

She can’t do that. 

                                                   M

We can sue her. 

                                                   L

Yes. . .if we can keep track of her. 

                                                   M

What are you going to do? 

                                                   L

Plan B. 

                                                   M

Plan B? 

                                                   L

Always have a contingency plan, Mr. M. You must keep in mind that things do occasionally go wrong. So. . .Miss C is going to leak the truth to a few key people. We must do the same. 

                                                   M

But she might get away. 

                                                   L

I can take care of that. 

Mr. L and Mr. M stub out their cigarettes. Mr. M immediately lights another. 

Mr. M leaves. 

Mr. L picks up his phone.

SLOW SAD FADE TO BLACK. 

IRIS OUT. 

Sepia of opening shot. 

吴有名’s voice. Over the action. She has a scratchy, alto voice. 

                                                   吴有名

Some people look at life through a pirate’s spy glass and at the other end they see themselves. Their coping mechanism is putting everything into this universe’s orb. Behavior is, after all, what you see. (Snorts) To everything there is a reason. These people construct reasons for whatever disconnected bits and pieces they see and want to see in their spy glass. They commit murder. Kongzi said, Clever talk, a pretentious manner and a reverence that is only of the feet–Tso Ch’iu Ming was incapable of stooping to them, and I too could never stoop to them. (Scratches her ass. Farts) I don’t know. I just don’t know. Not any more. 

IRIS IN TO BLACK 

LIGHTS UP. 

PLACE: Mr. L’s office. 

TIME: Mid-day. Sun streams in through the window. Very, very bright. 

Mr. L is at his desk, on his phone.

                                                 

Yes, that’s right. . . . Yes. Well, you know. They are all pretty stupid. . . . Yes. Easy to pull the wool over their eyes. . . . Yes. String her along. . . . That’s right. And then dump her. . . . Yes, I know. It is disgusting. But what can we do, eh? It is our job as citizens to stop crime before it happens. . . . Ah. Yes. Well. How she escaped here is a mystery. But we have her now, yes? . . . What?! . . . She’s making friends with the girls?! . . . How utterly despicable! Boys and girls. . . . Yes. Be nice and keep your distance. . . . Alright. Thank you. (Ends call) Yes! We’ve got her! The foreign devil. 

Knock at door. 

                                                   L

Enter! 

Mr. M comes in holding newspapers. 

                                                   M

We have a problem. 

                                                   L

Solved. 

                                                   M

No. I don’t think so. Take a look at this. 

Mr. M hands papers to Mr. L. 

Mr. L. reads, exasperated. Reads another and another. Exasperation grows. 

                                                   M

She has made herself so public. 

                                                   L

This makes our job more difficult. 

Mr. L and Mr. M sit at sofa and chair and light up. They puff awhile. 

                                                   L

Those kinds of people cannot not leave a trail of slime. And she has the gall to do this! 

                                                   M

You mean like they are hooked? Like on drugs? 

                                                   L

Exactly. 

                                                   M

And when they are high, druggies do wild and crazy things. Everybody knows that. 

Mr. L and Mr. M puff on their cigarettes. 

                                                   L

I have spoken to the people down there. 

                                                   M

You have? 

                                                   L

Yes. Miss吴 is now into girls. 

                                                   M

What?! Oh, that’s horrible! 

                                                   L

Yes. It is. Insatiable filth. 

                                                   M

Does she do both together? 

                                                   L

What a. . .thought! 

Pause. 

                                                   M

Grime and shit. 

                                                   L

Soiled and dingy. 

Mr. L and Mr. M smoke in time with their epithets. 

                                                   M

Musty and messy. 

                                                   L

Sloppy and untidy. 

                                                   M

Foul and mucky. 

                                                   L

Rotten and putrid. 

                                                   M

Smutty and slimy. 

                                                   L

Come and juice! 

                                                   M

Tongues and fingers! 

                                                   L

Front door and back door! 

                                                   M

Sixty-nine! 

                                                   L & M

(Shout) Mouse eats little brother! 

Silence at fever pitch. 

                                                   M

I wouldn’t mind getting her. 

                                                   L

You filthy bastard. 

                                                   M

Wouldn’t you like to get her? 

Mr. L stands. Straightens clothes. 

                                                   M

You know what they say. .  

                                                   L

I’m a man

                                                   M

Me too. 

Mr. M lights another cigarette and sucks strongly on it. 

Mr. L goes to bookcases. Rummages around. Comes out with a bottle of champagne. 

                                                   L

I’ve been saving this. 

                                                   M

Good stuff, huh? 

                                                   L

Oh, my, yes. 

Mr. M gets out paper cups. 

Mr. L. goes to chair. 

They stand a moment. 

They take off their masks. 

ANGLE: Close-up of faces. 

Mr. L and Mr. M are truly disgusting looking. Their faces are distorted and almost inhuman-looking and spotted with greenish mold. 

                              ANGLE: Tight frame on Mr. L and Mr. M and champagne. 

Mr. L pops the cork. Foam billows out over bottle neck and hands. They laugh suggestively. 

Mr. L pours two paper cups full. They foam over. Mr. L and Mr. M laugh again. 

                                                   L

Another one bites the dust. 

                                                   M

Another one bites the dust. 

ANGLE: Pull away as Mr. L and Mr. M drink and laugh. 

MUSIC: Queen, “Another One Bites the Dust.” 

SLOW FADE TO SEPIA. 

Run credits.

 THE END

 

The Preacher

May 3, 2008

One day, as I was passing through Lebanon, I came across a crowd at Swine Corners. On the NW corner, standing on a little bandwagon, stood a rather plainly dressed man. He sported a black ribbon tie, starched white shirt, black cut-away morning coat and black trousers. I assume he wore black boots, for the heads of his listeners obscured my vision. Those gathered about him in amphitheatre fashion wore checked cotton shirts and jeans or bib overalls and browned boots.

I asked one of the gathered, “Who’s that speaking?”

He looked me up and down and turned back to his listening. “That’s the preacher, Brother Ron Berptoast.”

“What’s he talking about?”

“He’s impartin’ his vision.”

“What did he envision? God?”

The man turned full around and looked unwaveringly into my face. “We don’t cotton to no ridicule in these here parts. Brother Berptoast is serious business.” And he turned away again.

I decided I would step back and observe the goings-on from the opposite corner. There was a wooden bench there and my legs ached, felt rubbery. I looked up at the sky—glaring blue. I sat, hoping a breeze would come along. My shirt was already wet and salt stained at the pits.

“And it behooved me to pass along my vision, my puissance, my revelation to you, my fellow men.” He fetched his handkerchief from his coat breast pocket and touched his mouth with it. “I say to you. . .I was stranded at the entrance to the chapel when it came upon me. Descended upon me in a bright steel blue flash like the lightning that Paul in the desert saw before his vision. I was blinded, mindless and senseless, to all but the picture put into me from above. I was touched, I say. Touched by the Holiest of Holies.” He dabbed at his upper lip with his sparkling white hanky. The ring on his little finger gleamed too. “And I am here to tell it to you all, that you, too, might know.” He paused. His voice lowered in register. “It was late in the evening. In the gloaming when the world is more than it is. A chariot appeared to me. Before me. A chariot! In this here day and age. There was no one around. It was a dark chariot. Drawn by eight milk white steeds. Driven by a tall dark stranger with fire in his eyes. Flashing from his dark black eyes. A slightly askew smile on his thin lips. I was awed. I trembled with fear and trepidation. A complexion darker—I say, darker than any man I have ever seen stared out at me from an atmosphere so hot and suffocating that I knew he was a being from another realm. And following this chariot was a host, a multitude of dark liveries mounted on dark steeds that stood a full 21 hands high. I trembled in my bones. My shoes became loose on my feet. My hair stood on end to rival the silky flowing mass of the charioteer’s black locks.” Brother Berptoast mopped his brow. “Appreciating my fear and over-awedness, he spoke to me. He spoke to me the words that make my appearance before you a reality. A necessity.” Pause. “He said, step upon my chariot, human, and I shall show you wonders beyond all calculation. And do you know? Do you know my crazed feet carried me up upon that dark chariot and stood joyous as a baby’s first steps next that raven stranger. Why in my fear and trembling had I done such a thing? Lord, lord, lord, there was a power here I did not understand. A power greater than myself. There was naught I could do but follow.” Brother Ron raised his hanky high and then pointed it directly at his audience. “I had no power to refuse! And before I was aware, I found I was in the chariot proceeding through the thick sulfurous air at a speed I dare not calculate. Onward we went. Onward and upward. Onward with the rapidity and ease of the wind until we stopped before a door in the High Street of Climax. Nary a word spoke my deep, dark companion. There was a crowd of people in the street. But no notice did they take of my caliginous caravan with its extraordinary equipage. Was I then invisible? It would have been difficult to miss the entourage and chariot from which I alighted—for I knew this was the place. The place I should get off. The place that was intended for me. Yet no one saw!” Brother Berptoast jabbed the air with each insistent word. I shifted my position. “The house at which we sopped appeared to be a shop. I do not know what kind of shop. I could see no sign. I also do not remember ever having seen a shop in this place before. When the dark stranger ushered me in, I was confronted by a vast half-ruined palace. Far in excess of what that common little shop door could have realized. I was in awe of the space. The high ceilings disappeared into the vague sky—if sky it was, for my eyes could not see so high. Intricate yet heavy columns evenly spaced about like a cathedral. Huge pillars of marble. And windows. . .windows of cut glass and pointed gothic arches from which no light emanated. But dark flashes of lightning rose up behind them illuminating the walls of intricately woven stone that went on and on. . .” Brother Berptoast let his hand and his gaze move on and on. I crossed my legs. “Room after room my mysterious mentor led me, pausing only to urge my befuddled feet onward. What did these rooms look like? I no longer remember but they were numberless. Numberless as the rooms in God’s mansion. But. . .I do remember that last room. That room was more cave-like than the rest. Its walls less finished. Yet with all the dancing shadows from the firelight, great bleeding torches, I could not be sure. The tall dark stranger stopped. And gestured. And there before me sat a senate of ghosts debating on the progress of the plague.  Yes! That same plague that ravishes our land today! And around the edges of this grand cavern, illuminated by garish bouts of twisted lightning, I saw gibbering and chattering skeletons running about. Running lasciviously after each other. Playing leap-frog. I shrank into myself. I did not belong here. My legs trembled and became rooted to the spot as my will strove to drive me onward. Escape! Escape! My inner voice roared at me. But I could not move. . .until the man bid me proceed beyond these squabbling ghosts into a wild, uncultivated plot of ground out of which rose up a black rock as smooth as—there is nothing so smooth.” I took a drink of water. Brother Berptoast wiped around his face, his eyes round and filled with wonder. “Down the walls of this cavern oozed and drooled water. A water that sparkled a yellow-green. This is my water, the darksome man said, pointing with a long finger. A very long finger with a very long blue-black fingernail. Vin invitae! He laughed. His lips pulled back to reveal long white fang-like teeth, the incisors creasing his lower lips. A grimace from out of which blew the mirthless laugher and a stench that only the brimstone of hell could produce. My knees went weak. I stepped back, reaching out to catch my balance. Don’t touch! he shouted at me. His voice rang off the walls. I covered my ears.” Brother Berptoast covered his ears. “The ringing bugged my eyes out.” Brother Ron did so. “I could not tolerate the tintinnabulation. I thought my mind would come squeezing out my ears. My nose. My open gaping mouth.” Brother Berptoast paused, filling the silence with his grimacing. I looked up at the sky and was immediately blinded. When I returned to Brother Berptoast’s bathos, he was a gyrating ghost in a tarnished halo. As he turned blue, he sucked in a great gasping breath and raised his hands to the sky. “Never in the world had I heard such a concatenation. I tried to plead my cause to the Lord. . .the bleating risibility ceased. I was enveloped in silence, silence that took my breath away. I looked at my Cimmerian companion—I didn’t want to! Lord help me, I did not want to! And yet I could not but look at him.” Brother Berptoast looked, handkerchief at his mouth. “His finger shot out, pointing to the ground. My gaze followed.” He followed his own trembling finger. “And. . .Lord help me! It was no longer stone but earth! The Earth. The ground beneath your feet. And that poison sucked itself into that earth. My earth. I saw it sinking into the world and polluting all the life therein. All the life upon it. And its noxious fumes rose up like highway heat mirage and choked the life out of the birds and the bees and they fell to the putrid earth and were consumed. And I saw this venomous liquid insinuate itself into the very wells and springs of the city making the water unfit to drink. By the Lord above I was struck dumb. . .the people were drinking of this polluted water. They knew not what they did. And they paid the price. I saw their walking corpses green and pus-filled bursting their humanity and falling empty to the ground.” I took a drink. “After seeing all this, the Stygian stranger showed me into yet a further room. What a marvelous, glorious chamber it was! Gilt and gold everywhere. My eyes were struck dumb from the brilliance. Piles. Piles and piles. Pile upon pile of rubies and pearls and sapphires and diamonds rose up before me. The floor was strewn with semi-precious stones. Once again his finger shot out, pointing at each and every stack of gems. These, he breathed, these are all yours, wealth beyond imagination. . .if you but do two things. I looked up into his imposing, hypnotic eyes. You must kneel to me and worship me. And you must go about the land and smear this pestiferous salve on all the doors I tell you.” Brother Ron Berptoast paused. He let the power of the moment seep into his by now bewitched spectators and I shifted my position. The preacher began again in a soft voice. “I knew then that this black spectre was Satan. And somehow. . .somehow the Lord gave me strength to refuse this primordial bribe.” Preacher Ron’s voice rent the air and I leaned forward. “Lightning flashed from his eyes! A gurgling, growling roar rose up out of him! He scowled down at me. His fingers clawed the air. And a loud clap of thunder burst over his head!” Brother Berptoast thundered, hands furiously tearing at the air. His listeners jumped. I sat up straight, grasping my water bottle. And then the preacher settled himself, wiping the spit from about his lips. Dabbing at his eyes. “And then. . .and then I found myself standing on the steps of the chapel. Alone.”

I took to following Preacher Ron Berptoast as he toured the country. He repeated his vision day after day. Without variation. Word for word. And all the populace became firm believers in his truth—that the scourge upon the land was due to the devil. As everyone wished to root out the devil, people searched high and low for his mysterious house. The police became involved. The Reserves. The military. Yet the demon of the pestilence could not be found. Nor the hall of ghosts. Nor the poisonous fountain. But the minds of the people were so imbued with Brother Berptoast’s idea that scores of witnesses, half-crazed by disease, came forward to swear that they too had seen the diabolical stranger, heard his chariot clattering down the street at the head of eight milk white steeds and a teeming dark multitude of liveries, dancing skeletons and arguing ghosts. Some even heard the thunder of his accursed laughter. And they’d point out this house or that, this person or that.

Then one day, Brother Ron Berptoast stepped up on his little bandwagon and told of another vision he had had.

When the Stone Man Nods His Head

May 3, 2008

It was a long journey and I stopped to rest. My legs ached from hanging loosely down from the saddle blanket. My ass from the donkey’s backbone. My lower back from the animal’s steady plodding sway. My hat shaded me but sweat oozed out around the brim and coursed down my face, collecting in my moustache and beard. I halted the donkey and slid off. I shambled to the edge of the road hoping the bow in my legs would straighten up. The dusty air was no better at the side of the road but I perched atop a rock anyway. My donkey lumbered off to graze near-by, content to be free of my lead. I tried to clear the dust from before me. I sneezed. This was not the first time. I decided that resting here, in such tainted air, was not such a good idea. But where was the surcease? I led my reluctant ass back to the roadway, mounted and continued my journey.

Not too much farther along, I came upon another traveller. I stopped. He sat on the side of the road. On a stone. His staff lay at his feet, covered with the detritus of his travels and collecting more. I saw no pack beside him. He was travelling light. He rocked and moaned as if asking pity of the relentless gods. Clutched in one hand, the veins standing out against his dusky skin, was a little pouch. A medicine or herb bag. Perhaps a magic charm lay within, for he occasionally shook it.

“Is that medicine in the bag?”

“Yes. Here. Take it.”

“I don’t need it but it might do you some good. What’s the problem?”

“Nothing can help me. I’ve lost my way and don’t know where I am.”

“Well, then, come along with me. We shall be two.”

“No. I can’t.”

“I don’t understand. We must find you–”

“Where are you going?”

“Down the road. To my destination”

“Where is your destination?”

“At the end of my journey. And yours?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“I see.”

“A sword blade cuts things but eyes do not see themselves.”

“Then what can you tell me?”

“I can tell you why this road is so dusty.”

“Can you?”

“Yes. I can.”

I thought about this for a moment. This powdered air was a bit unnatural. There was no wind. As he didn’t seem inclined to continue, I thought I might humor him and dismounted, taking a seat beside him.

“Why is this road so dusty, then?”

“Do you really want to know or are you humoring me?”

“Yes. I have sat beside you.”

“I see that. Are you sure you don’t want this medicine? It’s good medicine. No explanation needed.”

“I have no disease.”

“Well then. . .I’ll begin my story. It isn’t a long story. As stories go.”

“I have plenty of time.”

“Are you some kind of holy man?”

“No. I wouldn’t say so.”

“Ah. . .a wise man!”

“I wouldn’t call myself that.”

“It’s what others think and say about you that makes you what you are.”

“So wise men and fools live together.”

“Yes! That’s it. And they travel down this road. But that’s not where the dust comes from. That is from the digging of Jeppe. You don’t now Jeppe. You’re not from these parts. This dust is because Jeppe became obsessed with digging. So much so that people avoided him. And this road. One day he found a tiny gold nugget beside the road. A little farther on he spied another. Jeppe was a fool. He did not look up to see that there was a rich merchant ahead of him with a hole in his saddlebag. Jeppe ran home to get some digging utensils. His wife caught him. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ ‘I’m digging for gold.’ ‘You put those tools back before I beat some sense into you.’ ‘Oh woman of little faith! What do you think this is?’ He thrust the gold nuggets in her face. She took them from him. As was her wont. She took everything from him lest it slip through his fingers. Jeppe scampered off to his digging.

“Jeppe dug pits all along the roadside. He dug furiously. There was no gold. Never had been. Jeppe, though, could not see that, immersed in his cloud as he was. Once he had dug up one side of the road, he started on the other. The clouds of dust he raised became thicker. So thick he could not see where he was going. Or what he was doing. Travellers began taking other roads than this to avoid the dust and discomfort. The way was longer but what could they do? They raised the prices on their goods to make up for lost time. Around town, it began to be asked, ‘When will the fellow who plays with dirt ever be done?’

“Well, one day Jeppe struck his gold. ‘Eureka!’ he cried. ‘I’ve done it!’ By this time he had dug himself out near the lake. You’ll see the place a little farther on. There’s a marker there. He had covered that lake with dust. The townsmen said that at night the frogs could be heard coughing and choking in Jeppe’s dust. People couldn’t eat fish any more. They died from lack of oxygen.

“Jeppe saw his little vein of gold and shouted. Thinking one more thrust would unearth more gold, he jabbed at the sparkling metal. His shovel clanged. Sparks flew. Dust and debris were tossed up around him. Jeppe screamed, grabbing at his face. He twisted and shouted and writhed about until he fell into the lake and drowned. Jeppe hit gold alright. And then he blinded himself with a shard of the precious metal.”

The man became silent. He still rocked back and forth. He still held the bag of medicine out and up, an offering. I waited for more but as no more seemed to be forthcoming, I spoke up.

“So that’s why this road is so dusty?”

“It is.”

“That’s very interesting.”

“You must take the medicine.”

“I have no need of it.”

“You will. It is medicine. It will cure you. If you go along this road.”

“Let me tell you a story.”

“Eh? You have a story?”

“Yes. I’ve travelled a bit.”

“Ah. Have you? Well, then. I’ll hear your story.”

“In a far off land there was a doctor. He was a very good doctor. People liked him. One day a strange epidemic came into his town. It crippled children and killed adults. It threatened to sweep through the district, leaving a decimated ruin of a world behind. Luckily, however, this good doctor stumbled onto a cure for the disease. Instantly he became famous. For the epidemic was not just in his district. It was throughout the land.

“As the ravaging disease was taken under control, more and more uses were found for his medicine. His fame grew as did the stories about him. But his practice at home suffered. He fell under the spell of Super Doc. His diagnosing became superficial, always ending with a treatment of his curative. There were deaths and defections. This doctor had stopped paying attention to people.

“This went on for some time until he had lost all his old patients. He then turned to treating out-of-towners who wanted a personal infusion of his magical curative. The doctor, coming to believe that it could cure anything, was more than happy to oblige. Until he gave his medicine to a young girl who promptly died. When questioned about this, it was found that the doctor had not diagnosed the girl but simply given her the miracle cure as a matter of course. The girl was his daughter.”

“So. . .you will take this medicine?”

“I’m not sick.”

“You will be when you get to the other side of this dust.”

“Hmm. . .since you are staying here in the middle of this dirty fog, I should think you will need it more than me.”

With that, I gathered up the halter rope of my donkey and set out on my journey again. The man had been right. The dust did get worse. But once past the lake, the air suddenly cleared. I took a deep breath. I felt this was the first I had breathed in weeks. I sat down to rest and clear my lungs. I sat back and looked at the clouds and thought about the meaning of life. Interesting that there were as many meanings to life as there were people. Everyone was ready to fight for the preeminence of his meaning. How silly this was. There is a saying, all voices are the master’s voice, all forms are the master’s form. Still, there are those that think one voice is many voices. If it’s all one, why does anyone fight over it? Why does anyone try to change others’ minds? There is no miracle cure for life.

I took a deep breath and rose. I could not stay here forever, lost in the ramblings of an aging man. A common man on a journey of no particular importance. I gathered up my donkey’s lead and led him down the road into the sunset, happy to walk at a time like this.

Locater Nun

May 3, 2008

        Locater Nun. AKA the Plainclothes Nun. She was out and about. Again. She wasn’t often still. She had a calling. It was her duty. Her job she sometimes thought. But. She consoled herself. The way was never easy. So. She cultivated perseverance. It was perhaps her most admirable quality. She persisted. No matter what. She did not give up. Stayed the course. Loyal. To herself. To her ideals. To the end.

As I say. Admirable. Perhaps. After all. The message must get out. An inspired message. Divinely inspired. Luckily she had a habit otherwise people would label her insane. But she did not believe in histrionics. Not like those who threw themselves to the floor. Speaking in strange tongues. Eating carpets. Fists and feet flailing. No sir. Not her. Not Locater Nun. No such antics for her. Her agenda was different. Her agenda was open and forthright. Above board.

Locater Nun was after hypocrisy. Sanctimony. She ferreted it out. But. Let us lay this to rest. For the moment. We’ll pick it up later. Like a Puritan it will always be with us.

Now. A little about Locater Nun. Herself. The soul of the woman. Which wasn’t as simple as some said. Simon. Put your mouth where your hands are. Put your feet in your mouth. Heh-heh.

You see. Some say she is of the establishment. That is. She has the corporate mindset. Because. She’s a fine specimen of the Institution of God. Godliness. She succumbs. She knows her place. Has accepted her hooded state. She has been habituated. Even though she’s a plainclothes nun. An undercover agent. As such. The saying goes. She can only think what she’s been programmed to think. A robot for God. And. Of course. It is true. When you are inside the castle you cannot see beyond the walls. And. Again. Those who have been affected by the thought police don’t know they’ve been effected by the thought police. But they think everyone else has been. Oh well. You know. When you’re right you’re right. And if you’re right you’re not left. Behind.

But this is being harsh. There is more to Locater Nun. Though for some there is only one. One thing. One to her.

You see what you want to see. Mirror mirror. Etc. Etc.

No. Locater Nun believed she was the Charioteer of God. She had a good soul. She. Herself. And. She took seriously. Literally. The dictum. “Go forth and stand upon the outside of heaven.” Even here Locator Nun had her detractors. They said. Concrete thinking is a sign of mental instability. There are always naysayers. Let us be kind. Love your enemy. Otherwise how will you know what he or she is thinking?

The Charioteer of God. Locater Nun. Knows true knowledge. Abides there. In colorless formless intangible essence. Visible only to mind. The pilot of the soul. As they say. I am therefore I have thoughts without a thinker which demand a mind to think about them. Yes. Locater Nun was mindful of this. And so it was. That. Being nurtured upon pure knowledge she rejoiced at beholding Reality. Halleluiah! And she gazed upon Truth. And she was replenished. She was glad. Knowledge in absolute. Existence in absolute. Justice and temperance. In absolution. And. Beholding true Existence. She. Locater Nun. Passes down into the interior of heaven and says. Nay. I cannot accept ambrosia and nectar until all reality is saved. That is. All mankind.

What devotion. What dedication. Benevolence. Beneficence. Compassion is the greatest love. Let there be light!

Locater Nun’s avowed job. Her chosen path. Her raison d’etre. Is to save other souls. To bring them enlightenment. By confronting them with reality. With the error of their ways. They are troubled. She believes. By uncontrollable steeds. Unruly Houyhnhnm. This is because these people are not strong enough. And so they are carried round and down. Plunging. Lunging. Treading on each other. Everyone striving to be number one. To be on the top. Falling. Espying. Failing again. Confusion. Perspiration. Extreme effort. They become lamed. Clip-winged fallen angels. Fruitless toil. And. Disillusioned. They imbibe opinion. Even though there is pasturage. Unable to follow. Unable to behold Truth. Ill-happed. They slip and slide into forgetfulness. And vice. Aiya! What to do? What to do!

Enter Locater Nun. Come to show them the error of their ways. Determined, Diligent. Demanding.

None. She vowed. None would escape her revelatory zeal. It was as if she were on a witch hunt. Only as if. You understand.

Hypocrisy. Sanctimony. She came after them.

She kept a little black book. And in that book she noted who was naughty and who was nice. Who got their stockings filled. And who got their blocks of coal.

“There is no profit in a man’s life,” she began, “if his body and mind are in an evil plight. You must rid yourselves of these lurid sex stories from anonymous assistant crudite girls who work on arts and crafts service tables at this or that carnival of animals hoping, hoping for that big break only to uncover nonexistent penumbras of delight to airhead anti-humanists.”

So went Locator Nun’s hysterical anti-humanitarian rants. She traversed the land. In seven league boots even. Maintaining. In appropriate self-righteous tones. After all. She was saved. God’s charioteer. Here to bring the fallen back to the proper way. The enlightened way. Yes. She maintained that the few anti-humanists were perverting the rest of humanity. And they had to be stopped. In their tracks. Before they led the goodly humanists over the abyss. They. The anti-humanists. Were traitors. To all of humanity. Humanism. The people who really cared.

But. Of course. They didn’t know it. The anti-humanists. So. It was time the error of their ways was smashed unceremoniously in their repugnant faces. Locater Nun called them what they were. She called a spade a spade. She wasted no flowery rhetoric. Judgment was coming. Judgment would be swift. And final.

Taking a deep breath Locator Nun lowered her already worldly standards to speak in language that these traitors to humanity and humanism could understand. Traitors needed to have their anti-humanitarian ways thrust unceremoniously into their lurid disgusting pig-eyed little faces. Locator Nun was bringing home the bacon. Plopping it unceremoniously in their back yards.

And so. These are the kinds of things she said. Distilled. You understand. She’d been at this for oh so many years. Spurred on by her sense of mission. Her horses were becoming restless.

“Anti-humanists could never persuade humanists to follow their insane ideas. Infanticide. Sexual perversion. Adoption. Trigger finger tampering. Mixing and matching. Abolishing punishment finalities. Opportunity knocking. And yet. Anti-humanitarians wage a vicious campaign. Of vilification. And. Therefore. Of course. Craven moderately humanist humanists would be expected to follow.”

Yes. She said, “We face moral choices. Between good and evil. Every day. Every day. Day in and day out. Everyman’s everychoice everyday. If we make excuses for evil soon we cease being able to distinguish evil from good at all. With each choice we make. Large or small. We therefore take a step closer to the Devil. And so. Yes. They have made excuses for evil for so long they cannot recognize evil any more. The closest thing to it. Evil. In their vocabulary someone who wears fur. Yet many anti-humanists wear beards!” She would need to take a deep breath here. Sucking back the excess saliva that had accumulated on her rosy lips. Natural. No lipstick. You understand.

“Hiding their true selves. Behind their masks of fur. They are become amoral appeasers and foreign suck-ups whose faces are no stranger to confusion or befuddlement. Look at their beards for the love of God!”

It was all so self-evident. You know.

“God’s charioteer is come to Earth to meet out the punishment they deserve. The anti-humanists. You see. Anti-humanists simply can’t grasp the problem. Their specialty is hysterical overreaction. The truth is not their forte. What is the problem?” Another sage pause. “It is so self-evident! It need not be stated. They. They use words like decent and solid to describe their two-faced weasel hypocrisy.” And here. Locater Nun leaned forward over whatever podium she happened to be standing behind. For emphasis. “You don’t have to enter the No Spin Zone to see the disconnect.”

You’d think this would be enough. But no. There’s more.

“They talk about simulating belief in something. Anti-humanists believe in crazy God crap. They hoodwink others into believing they should believe in the crazy God crap too. It’s part of the casual contempt anti-humanists have for the views of normal people. Righteous people. The yous and mes of the world. Everymans. Hypocrisy! Hypocrisy I tell you. Hypocrisy is the sin that inflames them. And they say the humanists are the hypocrites.”

Take a deep breath. To calm her audience down. To calm herself down. Then begin again. Her diatribe. Hmm. To whom is she talking?

“Inasmuch as anti-humanitarians have no morals they sit back and criticize other people for failing to meet the standards they renounce. It’s an intriguing strategy.”

But Locater Nun. You understand. Has been deferential. She. In the face of this concatenation. Yes. She resisted the persistent. Illiterate urge. By others. You understand. To call anti-humanists traitors. At first. With a great deal of charity. And a willing suspension of disbelief. She conceded that many anti-humanists were merely fatuous fools fomenting at the mouth. Village idiots. But. Alas. The time came. It could not be put off. After all. And Locater Nun did some straight talking. Then. At that time. From then on.

Often in meandering mind-numbing prose. Like. The anti-humanists have turned a savage fascist nation into a peace-loving democracy overnight.

“Totalitarian monsters. Bloody tyrants. Fascists.”

The enlightened often talk in paradoxes.

The ends justify the means. But only if the end is to slander anti-humanists.

“Anti-humanists are fanatical liars. Hobgoblinists. They engage in myth-making. Rewriting history. Blackening reputations. They are on a horrid campaign of horrendous lies and disinformation. Anti-humanists are noise machines.”

They were matched by the canting of one. Locater Nun.

“Anti-humanists are incapable of feeling hate for the enemy. Anti-humanists unabashedly invoke lies in order to shield their ongoing traitorous behavior. They wear masks. Look at their bears for Christ’s sake.”

There was the word. She had sealed fate. Traitorous bastards. Sullying  out-from-unders. Pantywaists. Gutless wonders. Chicken livereds. Self-aggrandizers.

Locater Nun the plethora tongued.

“Anti-humanists become highly histrionically indignant when I question their patriotism. To life. Social terrors. Terrorists. They prattle on and on about the right to dissent being the true mark of humanitarianism when of course they are wrong. It is God.”

And the Papal treasury. Aka the World Bank.

“Those who cannot stay focused on fighting the enemy are objectively pro-terrorist. They too are traitors. The innocent are guilty. Traitors do that to you.”

So. Mind your P’s and Q’s. Or. Locater Nun’s come to get you.

Some said she sounded like a woman quarrelling with her husband. In conceit of her happiness.

Being a self-righteous charioteer of God. Locater Nun obeyed the laws of man. Roman laws. Derivative laws. Empirical because of the empire. Perpetuated down through time. Ad absurdum. The only way to go. And so. It was. Traitors should be shot. Would be shot. Put to death. Finis. It’s the law. Human. Humanitarian. It saves lives. In the end. You just gotta cut it off at the source. Baby. Anyway. No penalty which the law inflicts is designed for evil. Always makes him who suffers either better or not so much more worse. As he would have been. But. If any unmentionable be found guilty let the judge deem him uncurable. Remembering. After receiving such an excellent education and training from youth upward. The rogue has not abstained from the greatest of crimes. Which is being led to godlessness. Insolence. Injustice. Exile and death are too good. They must be disgraced as well. No criminal shall go unpunished.

The law is right. The law is good. Whoever enslaves the laws. Uses violence. Stirs up sedition. Wanting to change the state. This person is the greatest criminal of all. Worse than a god-defier. Already the worst. Yea I say unto you. Even cowards are as bad as traitors.

Kill. Kill. Kill. Clean out the trash. The detritus of humanity. So humanity might live. Amen.

Some said that she should beware. Lest from imitation she become what she imitates.

And so it came to pass. 10,000,000 people. Traitors all. They were put to death. It was the only humane way. Contamination had to be resourced out. When people cannot see the error of their ways. They must be made to see the error of their ways. They must be made to accept responsibility for their actions. So. All 10,000,000 traitors were executed in the humanist fashion of the day. That they might climb aboard the chariot of God. And meet him. And know absolute truth. It is the way of the world.

 Locator Nun sat back. Crossed her legs. Sighed. Took out a cigarette. She puffed and puffed. Lots of smoke. Screening her from the heavens above. Life was not always so sweet. Or clean. But when you have a job to do. A duty. A calling. You must remain loyal. To the cause. Whatever.

But. You know. Now. Locater Nun’s without a job. A duty. A calling. All’s quiet on the Western front.

And she’s misplaced her chariot.

[Locator Nun = anagram of Ann Coulter; metaphors are from Plato]

The Mayor’s Business

April 11, 2008

 

 

 

The Mayor’s Business

by

James L. Secor 

 

The Mayor was a man who liked paper. He believed in paper. And so there was lots of paper on his desk. It was a very big mahogany roll-top affair with a throng of cubbyholes and myriad drawers. Stacks of paper adorned his deck, a side table and the bottom shelves of the bookcase. The Mayor’s office was a veritable library of paper that, to the untrained eye, looked like chaos. But The Mayor had a practiced eye. He knew where everything was.

On this particular day, he was furiously reading papers in three different piles. He stood up from his padded leather swivel chair and laid out the papers from each pile so they were next to each other. They were full of figures. The Mayor liked numbers, believing in the basic mathematical numerology of life. He moved from one to the other to the other and back again. And again. Again and again. And then he slammed his hands down on the papers, stared at or through the office wall and smiled. His eyes grew big. He put the papers together and slipped them into a particular cubbyhole, pulled down and locked the roll top and strode out of his office.

“Lunch meeting,” he said over his shoulder as he shut the City Offices door.

It was 10 AM.

The sun was high in the cloudless blue sky. Even with his 10-gallon white hat on, The Mayor shielded his eyes as he walked across the street to the Lone Star Inn and Bordello Lounge and Coffee Bar where it just so happened that Medusi Minkowski IV, Captain Bill and a few of his other cronies were gathered chewing the fat over the weather, the immigrants and the fate of the world over a cup of java. The Mayor scuttled across the dusty main street and down the boardwalk and into the Lone Star Inn and Bordello lobby like a horny toad after a good meal. He didn’t even slow down to say hello to his two favorites hostesses, Jezebel and Delilah. They, of course, hailed him in passing. Before even sitting down, The Mayor began his pitch:

“Boys. I got us a opportunity.”

“Take a load of, The,” suggested the Sheriff.

“Hey, boy!” ordered Captain Bill. “Another cup o’ black joe.” He elbowed his buddies to either side, “I just love sayin’ that to that jigaboo.” And laughed and laughed at his own joke.

“What is it, The?” asked one of the other good old boys.

“We got us a bidniss,” The said.

“Spit it out, The. You know we’re always lookin’ for a way to make a buck,” said Medusi, twisting his head from side to side and brushing off his badge.

“Here it is–thanks, boy,” said The Mayor as his coffee was set before him. “This town’s been growin’. More’n more people been comin’ in.”

“Tell us somethin’ we don’t know, The.”

“Every year the past three years we been growin’. Steadily. Each year a bit more. Now, what’d'ya think that means?”

They all looked at each other.

“The town’s growin’ bigger?” ventured Medusi.

“You been readin’ yer figgers again, The?” Captain Bill teased.

But The Mayor paid no mind to their ribbing.

“It means they gotta have houses.”

“Yeah-uh. Since it’s against the law to live in a tent,” concluded Clint Flintlock, attorney-at-large for The Bildersberger & Gunpowder Law Firm.

“And somebody gotta supply the wood,” continued The, oblivious to the teasing. They were ever a hard group to bring around, favoring the obvious in their judgments.

“They git their wood from Waco,” said another of the gang.

“But we got our own forest right to hand.”

“Chalk Mountain Forest?”

“And we can operate the Brazos River Basin Logging and Builders Association. Exclusive suppliers to the metropolis of Chokepointe Piste.”

Everyone was quiet for awhile. This was a good idea and needed some ruminating.

“How do we stiff the competition? Waco Board gonna throw a hissy fit,” said Clint.

“Import tax,” said The Mayor, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

“How we gonna collect?” asked Captain Bill.

“Well. . .that gimp’s got himself a toll booth out there. We pass a law he’s gotta collect and we give him ten percent for services rendered. He’s gotta be good for somethin’ besides hoppin’ ’round after that damn Hellecchino character.”

“Five percent.”

“Three percent.”

“Okay. Three percent. He’s only got one and a half legs to feed,” quipped Clint.

Everyone laughed. It was always good to laugh at others’ misfortunes.

“We build the lumber yard just outside of town right on the river. Right there at the narrows so’s we can trap the logs as they come floatin’ downriver.”

“Damn! Ain’tchu the thinker,” said Medusi, slapping his thigh and twisting his head from side to side.

“I’ll go draw up the papers,” said Clint.

“And git me an import tax law for an emergency session of the City Council tomorrow,” said The Mayor. “Bill. . .you take some boys out there and scout out a location for the mill. I’ll run down to Andy Warthole’s an’ git him workin’ on a signboard.”

They all got up and went their separate ways. The waiter boy waited five minutes, to make sure they’d all dispersed, before he asked for leave til the noon rush hour. As the lounge and coffee bar were empty, this was allowed, though his pay would be docked for the time off, and off he went to tell Buck of the doing’s around town.

That evening, another of The Mayor’s business ventures was in full swing–both arms. The enterprise was a very successful operation. The Mayor ran a rather exclusive prostitution ring. The main house, which catered especially to sado-masochistic proclivities within the male populace, was located outside the city limits, just north of the Chalk Mountain Forest that was to be harvested. Only Mr. Mayor had figured that logging would also increase his sex trade as, via the logging road, access to the house of ill repute would be more direct, relieving the burden of time some of his clientele suffered under. This was listed, at the Chamber of Commerce, as a private gentlemen’s club, name: The Bait and Switch. Mr. Mayor never ceased to wonder at the many fishing aficionados there were in town. A special offer was available for business associations: delivery service.

The second piece of this clandestine concern was gathering resources, which had become much more difficult with the disappearance of the disappearing machine; however, low tech solutions to the problem had worked before the advent of high tech and, though rather painstaking, would be adequate again. That is, girls had to be procured. Kidnapping was effective but costly, for there were laws and some laws could not be broken with impunity. Getting caught in the act–or even ex poste haste –was a dangerous business risk. So, a more effective and efficient method was adopted: buying the goods. There were always people who were hard up, who had too many mouths to feed or were simply–as with The Mayor and his business associates –greedy. Money talks. Indeed, money talks so loudly that it trumps humanity. As people continued to be fruitful and multiply–who wants to take the fun out of life?–there was an unending supply. Generally speaking, this ingredient of the business was acquired under cover of darkness, as much due to its nefarious nature as to its inherent furtive excitement. However, it must be admitted that there were contract workers, brought in, of course, from outside: unsatisfied housewives and bored socialites. The thrill of taboo breaking had immense drawing power.

Of course, there were further enhancements to pleasure and thus there was a brisk trade in pharmaceuticals. The Mayor steered clear of this. Captain Bill–Roaring Bill MacDonald–took care of this end of the food chain. Medusi Minkowski IV, Sheriff of Chokepointe Piste, helped by making appropriate raids and confiscating the evidence, to be distributed elsewhere for a 100% profit.

As is the way of the world, everything went along smoothly for some time, including the new logging and building adventure. Indeed, so efficient were they at clearing the forest that the partners found themselves with a surplus of wood. They took up the slack by building a surplus of houses. Planned communities. This investing in the future occurred at all levels of society, from shanties to dream houses, all constructed according to code and in the appropriate location.

Nevertheless, this super-efficiency and over-exuberant zeal had an unforeseen downside. Log jam. This log jam on the river created another problem. A shortage of water. Water for farming, water for washing, water for cooking, water for drinking. That is, when the supply diminished, it was discovered just how important to life water was. You’d expect that the business conglomerate would see their way to making more money from this debacle but such was not the case. Before The was able to see how he could profit from the misery of others yet again, the people’s complaints reached Hellecchino’s ears.  Of course, most of the people so adversely affected were from the other side of the wall and their lot was already a hard one. Their frustration boiled over easily. Like all good heroes, Hellecchino had good hearing. And he was a good listener. Like a true hero, too, he reassured the restless citizens, for he had a plan. When asked what it was, all Hellecchino said was, “Greed is a kind of hubris and hubris is a kind of blindness.”

Everybody thought that was pretty profound and returned to their dry homes ooohing and ahhing.

Hellecchino however heighed himself into town to buy a kazoo.

“Hold down the fort, Buck. I’m going into town to buy a kazoo and then I’m going out into the woods to practice.”

And that’s just what he did.

As Hellecchino expected, it wasn’t too very long before he was discovered out in the woods. He was caught gathering faggots for firewood. In these woods, this had become against the law with the result that people were reduced to eating cold gruel, cold soup, cold stew, cold etc. So it was he was caught red-handed picking up sticks.

What brought about Hellecchino’s discovery was that every time he strained, he kazood. Sometimes, this sounded like a sick bird, kind of like a duck with indigestion. And the perimeter guard heard this. And he went in search of the sound. And he found a man all in brown bent over grappling with the vines and bushes and pulling together sticks and branches–and kazooing as he did so.

“Who the hell are you?” shouted the cowboy perimeter guard.

Hellecchino was in disguise.

Hellecchino did not answer.

“What the hell are yew doin’!” shouted the cowboy perimeter guard.

Hellecchino continued scratching at the underbrush for good kindling.

“I said goddamnit who the hell are you!”

There was the ominous click of a gun being cocked.

Hellecchino did not stop what he was doing but he did bend over a little more, making his butt stick out from beneath his brown cloth over-blouse.

“I’m man-who-breaks-wind.”

“Yer shittin’ me.”

Just then, Medusi Minkowski IV rode by on his way to supervising the new business development. They were now harvesting green pine. He was going to see if they could sell them as “you don’t have to paint your house” lumber. Always fresh as the day you bought it.

“What seems to be the trouble, cowboy?”

“I got this here guy says he’s man-who-breaks-wind.”

“And you were going to shoot him to see the escaped wind?”

“No, sir. He just wasn’t answerin’ to my query.”

“God damn! You know I don’t cotton to homosectshuals! You’re fired!”

Before the cowboy perimeter guard had a chance to explain himself, Medusi Minkowski IV began beating him with his reins and kicking him with his pointy-toed boots. This not only caused the cowboy to run off but the horse to buck and skitter about and carry on til the Sheriff fell off.

Hellecchino never once turned around.

Sheriff Minkowski IV gained his feet and wiped himself off. He polished his badge and twisted his head from side to side. He gathered up the reins of his horse.

“You the man-who-breaks-wind?” he asked the swaying ass before him.

“Yeah. Dat’s me. Man-who-breaks-wind.”

“Let me see ya prove it or I’m takin’ you in. You know who I am?”

“Nope.”

“I’m Medusi Minkowski IV, Sheriff of Chokepointe Piste.”

“Yew don’t say. . .”

“I do. And if you don’t prove you’re who you say you are, I’ll arresting you for impersonating an old fart.”

“Okay. Glad to oblige.”

Now, Hellecchino never did anything half-assed. And, true to form, he did not this time either. He not only kazood as he strained, he kazood bird calls and at least one verse of a popular hymn.

Well! Medusi Minkowski IV was truly amazed. He laughed and laughed and asked for an encore. Hellecchino very nearly shit himself obliging the Sheriff.

“This is great. I just gotta tell the boys ’bout this.”

So, up he got up and spurred his mount into a near gallop back toward town.

Hellecchino, once the hoof beats had paled, stood up, gathered his firewood in a bundle, strapped it to his back and walked off. He knew Buck would be pleased as punch to get some warm food for dinner.

When Medusi Minkowski IV returned with The Mayor, Clint Flintlock, Clyde Moyen Bucket (“bouquet”), Gyorgy Yabu and the Yabu Yeoman editor, Edward Garcon, Hellecchino was long gone. As fate would have it, though, a big brown bear had wandered into the Chalk Mountain Forest foraging for food and escaping the Indians on his trail. The town fathers hunted around and, hearing the snorting and pawing, followed the sound to the bear. They were on foot as getting the horses to pass through the undergrowth and trees was a mite too difficult. They were laughing and carrying on and not paying one bit of attention to what they were doing.

“Hey! I’m back. Go on and do your ass singin’ again,” shouted the Sheriff.

The bear did not respond.

Medusi Minkowski IV walked up to the big brown mass and kicked it in the ass.

The bear responded. He spun around and stood on his hind legs and roared his indignation. Great paws gnashed at the air. Spit flew from his jaws. And the town fathers took to their heels. The bear, of course, took off after them, though his hunger for satisfaction and human meat was never satisfied. The humans jumped on their horses and high-tailed it back to town.

Next day the Yabu Yeoman blared a panic-stricken headline: Bear Found Shitting In The Woods!!

That pretty much put an end to both the logging business and the whoring business. It also brought about the rediscovery of some of the missing peoples because, without their pharmaceutical fix, they wandered off in search of something to make themselves feel better. Addiction is not a pleasant sight. Nevertheless, when these denizens of ill-got means were discovered, their families were ecstatic and thankful all to heaven. There would have been a scandal but most of the damaged goods belonged on the other side of the wall and so the Yabu Yeoman carried no story. It was as if nothing had happened. And, of course, the good side of town was happy in its ignorance, ignorant of the fact that it was ignorant.

But the other side of town benefited in another way, too, for now they safely foraged for wood for fires and once again were able to drink hot coffee, hot chocolate and hot toddies.  This was so because of two reasons: 1) the Indians caught up to the bear and took him down; and 2) everyone else was afraid to go into the woods, bears being known for their mindless frenzy.

No one did anything about the log jam, following Hellecchino’s suggestion, for he realized that eventually the water would overflow the river’s banks and work its way around the dead wood and continue its way downstream, thus opening up water to the populace. Eventually, too, the lumber would flood downstream and be harvested by any interested bystander and used for fuel, thus getting rid of the need to raid the Chalk Mountain Forest, which really was a long walk, especially on the way back.

“Sometimes,” explained Hellecchino to Buck one evening from atop the toll booth blockhouse, “sometimes you just have to let the problem overwhelm itself.”

Jim Hatfield Undercover

April 7, 2008

One fine morning, Jim Hatfield presented himself at the Hacienda loco plátano under the guise of Janus Beauregarde, assistant to Dr. Chicane Milchrot. Nothing could be done about Jim’s height but his grey eyes were somewhat shielded behind large, black-framed spectacles and his eyebrows had been plucked and peaked. His nose had been reshaped into a moderate hatchet-shape, to mimic of Gyorgy Yabu’s. One tooth was missing from the front right. Jim had grown long fingernails, though not quite so long as those sported by the ancient Chinese. And he walked with short, mincing steps, as if hampered by skirts. He carried with him especially elaborate stationary with Chicane Milchrot’s heading and writing in order to introduce himself in his boss’s absence. Anything impressive was guaranteed to work with Gyorgy Yabu. He liked show.

“So,” said Gyorgy by way of a conversation opener, “you’re Dr. Milchrot’s assistant. How come you wasn’t here before?”

“I was left behind,” Jim said in his smooth, slightly East European accent, “to carry out further experiments, of course.”

“Ah. Good. Good,” said Yabu for lack of anything else to say.

“May I see the machine, please, yes?” And Jim-Janus bowed slightly from the waist.

“Well, yes. Of course! Raght this way, mah man.”

On the way down to the basement, Yabu was conniving how to get information from this Janus Beauregarde guy. He figured it would not be too difficult as second raters or second seaters were ever ready to show off their stuff in the absence of their overlords. All he had to do was ask, really. And so, when they stood before the machine, he did.

“Ah!” shouted Janus, throwing up his hands in glee. “The Chicane Disintegrator! How wonderful it is, no?”

“How th’hell does this dang thang work?”

Janus-Jim took a deep breath.

“Simple,” he silvered. “Let me give you an example. When certain crystals are placed in water, they dissolve and disappear. You would not know that they had ever been there.”

“What are crystals? You don’t mean the ones that’re worth money, do ya?”

“I am talking about salt or sugar.” Yabu nodded, mouth open in comprehension. “If, by evaporation or by some other fashion, you lessen the amount of water–et voilá!–there you have crystals again, visible and the same as before. It is by this evaporation process that you, an organic being made up of the same crystals, can be dissolved into the cosmos. Then, by a subtle reversal of fortune, your bits and pieces are reassembled elsewhere.”

Jim-Janus rolled his eyes to the ceiling, hoping this mishmash made sense, for, truly, the body was not made up of crystals, though it was of the same substance as the rest of the cosmos. Yabu, however, thought Janus was looking to heaven for insight and thanks for a job well done, something that he himself did often enough.

Nevertheless, “This is stupid,” he cried. “It is a monstrous assertion that we could be dispersed by some disruptin’ power.”

“The objection is an obvious one. But it is working, no? This is how Dr. Milchrot’s Chicane Disintegrator works, I assure you. He has carefully instructed me in all its various phases and conundrums and I can assure you there is a visible framework that requires that every crystal flies back into its true place,” lied Jim, Janus-faced. “You may smile, Mr. Yabu, sir, but your incredulity and your smile may soon be replaced by quite another emotion. After all, we have disappeared many, no?”

“Where did they go?”

“Ah! It would not be a secret if I told you, would it?”

“Yes. I see your point. You know,” and Yabu kind of giggled, indicating the kitchen above with his head, “sometimes I’d like to disappear–but only fer awhile, y’ understand.”

“I could arrange it.”

“Could you?” Yabu bit his lip, shifted his eyes round a bit. “Does it hurt?”

“No one has ever complained,” replied Janus in a reassuring but no less conspiratorial voice.

Yabu shrugged his shoulders. “I’m ready, then. Perhaps I c’n relieve some o’ th’ stress ‘n strain o’ home life. If ya know what I mean.”

“Yes. There is something I would impress upon you, Mr. Yabu, which may help you to grasp the idea. You have heard in Oriental magic and Western occultism of the phenomenon of the ‘apport’ of objects, when suddenly brought from a distance to appear in a new place, yes?”

“I don’t understand this term ‘apport,’” said Yabu shaking his head. “I’m not good at scientific stuff. As long as it works is good enough for me.”

“It is the loosening of molecules, their conveyance upon an etheric wave and their reassembling, each exactly in its place drawn together by the irresistible laws of physics and philosophy.”

“I do not believe in apports, Mr. Beauregarde, since I do not understand them. Since I do not believe in them, they do not exist. My time is valuable and if we are t’ have any sorta demonstration, I wanna proceed right this minute, without farther ado.” Gyorgy Yabu’s haughtiness hid an inner trepidation, as could be seen by the constant shifting of his feet and the little cough he occasioned throughout his demand.

“Yes,” said Janus, approaching the machine and placing a hand against its smooth, shiny surface. “This is the machine that is destined to be famous, altering the balance of power in the country. Who holds this, rules the world.” Jim tried to hold back the rising sourness from his stomach. Sometimes, playing a part was not so tasteful. “Now, Mr. Yabu, will you dare to sit upon the chair and allow me to demonstrate upon your own body the capabilities of this new force?”

But Gyorgy Yabu had not the courage of a lion and anything in the nature of defiance or threat, real or otherwise, roused him to an instant frenzy and he spluttered and gaggled as if speaking in tongues. Then, “I shall go.”

“Perhaps you’re life is too valuable–”

“It is monstrous, this contraption,” said Yabu in awe-struck wonder. “The nearest approach to this thing I’ve ever seen is the ‘lectric chair at Sing Sing. This ain’t gonna fry my ass, is it?”

“I guarantee its safety,” said Janus, bowing. “I would be held for manslaughter if anything befell you, no?”

“That would be poor consolation t’ me, leavin’ the work unfinished. Let you, at least, go first, an’ then I c’n follow.”

“And who would work the machine then?”

“Ah! Good point.” Yabu stamped his foot.

Personal danger had never assailed Gyorgy Yabu before and the idea that this scientific work might leave him unfinished hit him hard. He hesitated. Before he could make up his mind, Janus pushed him forward and into the chair. Janus put his hand to the handle. It clicked. Then, for a moment, there was a sensation of confusion and a mist before his eyes. When this cleared, Mr. Yabu, with an odious smile, was standing beside Janus, his usually apple-red cheeks drained of blood and color, staring over his shoulder.

“Well, get on with it!” he said.

Janus pulled himself up. “It is all over. You responded admirably.”

Although he himself was amazed, Jim had never seen a man so utterly upset. His nerve, for a moment completely failed him and he grasped Yabu’s arm with a shaking hand.

“My, God, Mr. Beauregard, it is true! I vanished from there and now I’m here. There’s no doubt about it. There was an instant of vacancy as I’ve never felt before and. . .how long was I away?”

“Two or three minutes. I clicked this lever, if it is a lever, into a new slot and there you were, standing where you now stand, looking a little bewildered but otherwise the same as ever.” Janus mopped his brow with a gig red handkerchief. He was horrified–even at the perfect coolness of his operation. But he managed a cool, “It is an interesting process, is it not? When you consider the tremendous inocuity of the Professor, it is strange to think that he is at present a molecular cloud suspended somewhere. He is now, of course, entirely busy on a mission of mercy. If we choose to leave him in suspension, there is nothing on god’s earth to prevent us.” Janus smiled broadly, revealing long yellow teeth. “Do you know. . .I have discovered that the hair of the body, being at an entirely different vibration to other living organic tissues, can be included or excluded at will. It would interest me to see the bear without his bristles. Behold him!” And Jim-Janus, without the slightest idea what he was doing, flicked a small lever and Yabu stood before him, bald as a jaybird. He could hardly keep from roaring with laughter at the joke he played.

Perhaps at the wide-eyed laughter of Janus Beauregarde and, perhaps, the evil glint in his eyes tipped Yabu off, for his hand shot up to his head and he became conscious of his condition. His huge head was as bald as a baby’s ass and as smooth as a girl’s lily white breast. The next instant, he sprang forward and seized Janus by the throat, hurling him to the ground.

“For God’s sake be careful!” shouted Janus. “If you kill me, you can never get matters right again.”

“Really?” snarled Yabu from betwixt his clenched teeth. Then he began babbling again, as he ever did when excited and out of sorts. “This violence is quite unnecessary. It is not a harmless joke–”

“It was my wish to demonstrate the power of the machine. I imagined that you wanted a full demonstration. No offense, I assure you, Mr. Yabu. None in the world.”

“You will fix me. Do not take any liberties.”

Janus was let go and rose on shaky legs. He approached The Lagniappe. For all of his bravado, could Jim bring this off? Damn him for getting a big head! Now he understood the problem of the actor who loses himself in his role–no control. He took a deep breath.  He pulled the same lever in the opposite direction and, in an instant, there was Gyorgy Yabu with his tangled mane once more. Gyorgy stroked his head affectionately with his hands, passing them over his cranium to be sure that the hair restoration was complete. Then he turned an angry visage on Janus Beauregarde.

“You done taken a liberty, Mr. Beauregarde, that woulda had very serious consequences to yoreself. However. . .I am content to accept yore explanation that you only did it fer purposes of demonstration. Now, if I may ask you a few direct questions upon this remarkable power which you claim to have discovered for me. . .”

“I am ready to answer anything save what the source of power is. That is my secret–and that of the great Chicane Milchrot, my inestimable teacher.”

“Do you seriously inform us that no one in the world knows of this except yoreself and Milchrot?”

“No one has the least inkling.” Finally, Jim Hatfield spoke the truth. Nevertheless, he broke out in a tingly, cold sweat.

“How does it work?”

“Well,” Jim collected himself for another salvo from neverneverland, “it acts vertically. Certain currents are above you and certain others are below you and they set up vibrations. But the process could be lateral. If it were so conducted, it would have the same effect and cover a space in proportion to the strength of the current.”

“And you have sold this secret as a monopoly to only me, yes?” Gyorgy rubbed his hands together.

“Yes, sir. When the money is paid over, you shall have such power as no man ever yet has had. You don’t even now the extent of the possibilities if placed in capable hands, hands which did not fear to wield the weapon which they held. They are. . .immeasurable.” A gloating, evil smile passed over Janus’ face. “Conceive a quarter of Bexar gone in the flick of a switch. Poof! The people we’ve been doing so far are peanuts. Imagine the effect of such a current. . .”

“Why,” Yabu burst into laugher, “I could imagine the whole Pecos Valley being swept clean, and not one man, woman or child left of all those teeming millions to disturb my peace. No Injuns. No immigrants. No darkies. Nobody to stand in my way.”

These words filled Jim with horror–the air of exultation with which they were pronounced. But, then, to hide his disgust, Janus himself broke into a genial, yellow-toothed smile and held out his well-manicured hand.

“Well, Mr. Beauregarde, I must congratulate you and Dr. Chicane Milchrot. There is no doubt that you have come upon a remarkable property of naytcha which you have succeeded in harnessin’ for my use. That this use should also have a destructive power is no doubt very deplorable but science knows no distinctions of the sort, following knowledge where it may lead, no? Apart from the principle involved, you have, I suppose, no objection to my examinin’ the construction of the miraculous Lagniappe?”

“None in the least. The machine is merely the body. It is the soul of it, the animating principle, which you can never hope to capture. It is so scientifically etheric.”

“Exactly. . .but the mere mechanism. . .”

For some time, Gyorgy Yabu walked around The Lagniappe and fingered its several parts and levers. Then he hoisted himself into the insulated chair.

“Ah. Would you care for another excursion into the cosmos?” asked Janus.

“Later, perhaps, later. But meanwhile. . .is there not some leakage of. . .electricity? I can distinctly feel a weak current passing through me.”

“Impossible! It is quite insulated.”

“But I assure ya, Ah do feel it.” He got down from the chair and indicated that Janus take his place.

Janus sat down. “I can feel nothing.”

“There is not a tingling down your spine?”

Janus closed his eyes and considered. “No, sir. I do not observe it.”

There was a sharp click and Janus disappeared.

“Good heavens,” said Yabu, smiling benignly. “Dear me. I may have inadvertently touched the handle. One is very liable to have awkward incidents with a rough model of this kind. This never should certainly be guarded. Hmm. . .it is in the number three slot. That must be th’ slot that causes disinteegration. Yes. I c’n operate this. Yes. Quite adequately indeed.” And he moved the lever again. A white, slightly shaken Janus Beauregarde reappeared. “Enjoy yore trip? I was so excited I guess I didn’t watch what I was doin’. Didja notice it?”

“I may have noticed it, yes, Mr. Yabu. But I do not burden my mind with such small details.

“There are many slots and I do not know their purpose. I might make the matter worse if I experiment with the unknown, don’tcha think? Perhaps it is best to leave matters as they are, in yore hands. For the moment.”

“And you would–”

“Exactly. It is better so. With your interesting personality distributed throughout the cosmos, this machine is worthless and certain people. . .if you get my drift. . .”

“The first duty of a loyal citizen is to prevent murder,’ said Janus.

“Enough! Enough!” said Yabu, holding up his hand. “The theme will not bear discussion. It has already disengaged my thoughts too long from matters of more importance.”

And Yabu stalked out of the basement, leaving Janus, aka Jim Hatfield, alone, still with the problem of finding and re-rendering the disappeared. He looked again at the machine. . .so many levers. . .was there perhaps a storage bin? He looked around for Milchrot’s plans.

Missing Persons

March 21, 2008

Gyorgy Yabu was not a man to sit still with his victory or even find it satisfactory, that is, enough. There was always more to be had and Gorgy Yabu wanted it. Wanted it all. He was a man famine-cursed: in a famine, no matter how much is planted, it is not enough. With a famine, there is not enough. Of anything. Gyorgy Yabu was like a famine: no matter how much he ate up, he was never satisfied. Would he sell his soul–to the Devil, of course–to win the world? Would he sell his daughter? Well, perhaps only one of them would do the trick. After all, Agamemnon only required one.
So, it should not come as a surprise that when people stood in his way, Gyorgy Yabu became frustrated until he had removed them. This was often exhausting, causing him uncomfortable sleep and a general kind of irritation by day and occasionally a twitch at the left side of his mouth that caused him to grimace in a smiling sort of way. It was in his wish to banish these physical impediments, including the people, that Gyorgy Yabu found and hired–every hand has his price–Dr. Chicane Milchrot, an expert in his field. The project he set him was building a machine, a smart machine, a machine that would disappear people. It was of no concern where they were rendered, as long as they were gone out of his way. In the perfecting of such a miraculous machine, the more miraculous as it was to be designed to select one individual out of a crowd, guinea pigs were needed. Thus it was that arbitrary people were randomly picked up off the street, usually from the other side of the wall, and disappeared, never to be heard from again. Which, of course, was the whole idea. However, all along the way, people were incapacitated and died. An unfortunate side-effect but unavoidable, all things considered. As the dead were secretly disposed of, tortured limbs and all, it was all the same: they just disappeared and no amount of inquiry could uncover them.
Buck notified Hellecchino of every disappearance. Hellecchino kept a Domesday Book of names, dates and circumstances. Buck’s position as town disabled person and his living outside of town made it easy for him to disappear for days at a time in his search for Hellecchino, who was never in one place twice. They could have used carrier pigeons but Clyde Moyen Bucket liked to bird hunt and to him all birds were the same: dinner on the wing. And he liked to be the one with the most hits, so he often used a modified short barrel with #1 buckshot, even though it occasionally took out a fellow hunter. A mortally wounded pigeon would divulge its message and a later look for similarly fine feathered friends would have drive Clyde to ride through the night across the Coahuila near-desert sands in an attempt to follow the bird to its destination: Hellecchino, the swingest grade A number one East Texas choice frustration. So, the most obvious and direct method, so utterly within everyone’s sight and right under their noses, was the best way. Thus it was Buck hopped on his burro and clip-copped across the chaparral to wherever Hellecchino might be. Even I can’t tell you where he was or it’d not be a secret. Buck always limped back home with guidance for the corralled population, that is, all those on the other side of the wall. Fat lot of good it did–where was he when he was needed, eh? Stupid fucking hero!
Of course, Buck wasn’t the only one looking for Hellecchino. Jim Hatfield was looking for him, too. Jim Hatfield, no longer a Texas Ranger, had time on his hands. What better way to employ his time than by finding this much-talked-about thorn in Gyorgy Yabu’s, Medusi Minkowski IV’s, Clyde Moyen Bucket’s and The Mayor’s sides. Any man capable of invigorating so many enemies in so short a time must be formidable indeed. Now that Jim Hatfield knew how Gyorgy Yabu worked and what the long arm of the law really meant, he was anxious to meet Hellecchino. Perhaps there was something that he could learn, old dog that he was.
So it was that one day, in the middle of Yabu and Brownwood Causeway, just outside of Kaikai’s Hostelry, Jim Griffin and Kaikai waved good-bye to Jim Hatfield and Goldie. Even though the boardwalks were crowded with shoppers and loungers and the street modestly filled with buggies, buckboards and horses, nobody noted Jim Hatfield’s passing. After all, people were coming and going daily. Nothing unusual here.
So it was, too, that Jim Hatfield found Hellecchino. In amongst a group of wildly gesticulating and shouting Indians, Hellecchino stood cool as a cucumber. Everybody reverted to silence as Jim Hatfield rode up. Hellecchino looked around.
“Why, Jim Hatfield! Glad to see ya, buddy. Hop on down and join in the discussion,” said Hellecchino.
Jim did, loosely holding Goldie’s reins in his left hand in case the palomino got spooked.
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Everybody knows ya, Jim. You’re the most known man in the West.” A couple of the Indians grunted. “The most known white man in the West.” The Indians were happy with this. “But we can talk about that later. How’d you find me?”
“Buck’s burro bunnies,” replied Jim with a smile.
“We’ll have to see about his bagging it. You weren’t followed, were you?”
“Nobody even remarked my leaving.” Jim looked down, Goldie blew a gust out his great nostrils. “You ain’t afraid of them finding you, are you?”
“Hell no! But I’m not ready to be found. Ya gotta keep ‘em guessin’, Jim.”
“I suppose so,” said Jim, rubbing his chin. “But there’s no telling what’s going on in their heads.”
“The more fantasy, the better. Keeps ‘em occupied. Besides, they’ll be so involved in their possibility stories, we can slip right by ‘em. It’s a pink elephant, Jim.”
What the hell’s a pink elephant got to do with things?”
“Just you don’t think nothin’ about it.”
“What’s going on here? It’s against the law for Indians to gather like this.”
“You see anybody watching?”
Jim scanned the horizon. No hill or rise or big bush anywhere around. “Nope,” he said.
“That’s why we’re here. Right out in the open right where everyone can see is right where no one will be looking. If people think you’re sneaking around, they will only be looking for hiding places.” Hellecchino turned to the Indians. “Jim Hatfield wants to know what’s the problem” The Indians were silent. “It’s okay. He’s not a Texas Ranger any more. Gained some Indian friends out to the west of here.”
The Indians looked around to each other.
“You come do sweat lodge?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.”
“They come after our land. It’s our land. We don’t want them to have it. It’s all we got,” said a big Indian.
“They will return with blue coats. Always it is so,” said a short Indian standing right before Jim.
“Who’s they?” asked Jim.
“Monkey Ears and Twisted Lips.”
“We don’t know what to do.”
“Yeah. We always lose.”
“Not so damn fast,” warned Jim Hatfield. “If you think that way, you certainly will lose. You’ve already lost.”
“You’re language sure has taken a tumble, Jim,” said Hellecchino.
“Happens when I’m a little put out.”
“What do we do, Hellecchino–why you have such a difficult name?”
“I had no choice.” Hellecchino paused. “What land is this?”
“Our holy land. It is where we go to feel the spirit.”
“And so they want it.”
“They come two, three times. Always more money.”
“Soon we have no land.”
Great group assent.
“Well. . .the more you fight for it, the more they’ll want it. They want it because it’s important to you. You gotta tell ‘em they can have it as long as they don’t take the other place.”
“What place?”
“Hell, I don’t know! Any old piece of worthless land a ways away. Draw a circle of stones on it. Don’t give it up. Fight tooth and nail–metaphorically, that is–and when you got a better deal, right up to the point that they’re threatening you, you give in like a bunch of yellow bellied cowards.”
“What do they want with worthless land?”
“If you’re fighting to keep it, they’ll think it’s worth plenty. Only you know it’s priceless.”
Jim Hatfield burst out laughing. Goldie neighed.
“That’s good hone, Hellecchino! Priceless indeed.”
The Indians were scratching their heads.
“Look,” explained Hellecchino, “you are leading them down a blind alley.” No comprehension in their eyes. “On a wild goose chase.” Still no comprehension ase’ceov the seminole sasv’kwv.”
“A group “Ah” and holding of black long-haired heads. These foreigners and their Indian!
“No one wants worthless land, right? Only you can make it worth something.”
“That’s a good idea,” said the big Indian.
“Alright then. Problem solved. Now. . .when you make the sale, you come find me and we’ll celebrate with a big dinner.”
And with that, the Indians jumped on their pintos and rode off into the south wind.
“You’re pretty slick,” commented Jim after the sound of hooves had receded and the dust settled.
“Depends on which plane of existence you live on.”
“I don’t think I follow you,” said Jim, scratching his head and unsettling his hat.
“You don’t have to live in the world somebody else makes for you. You may not like their rules and their interpretation of the world. Ain’t that why you quit?”
“So?”
“Well, if you don’t buy into it, you know the rules anyway and you can play it back at ‘em. Charming Jonson called it blow back.”
“And Jimmy Zimmerman called it blowing in the wind.”
“More like spittin’ into the wind.”
“I guess now I’m on a different plane.”
“Sure seems like it.”
Jim and Hellecchino stood around shuffling their boots for awhile.
“I’m parched,” Hellecchino broke the self-conscious silence. “Let’s go get a drink.”
“Where do we find a drink out here? You gotta be careful of drink. It clouds the mind.”
“Lu Da’s got some fine wine. Water, too, for you.”
“Okay, let’s go.”

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the disappearing machine was working well, though not so secretively as planned, and the disappearances became pandemic. Gyorgy and Chicane Milchrot had no idea who leaked the knowledge of the machine, nicknamed The Lagniappe, though Gyorgy liked to call it the Giving Machine. He was into Critias-type rhetoric, though, in reality, he would have had no idea who Critias was–and probably wouldn’t be able to pronounce the name properly. Everything outside of Brazos River Basin dialect was Greek to him. But sometimes secrecy was not as important as chutzpah, for if you pull it off right in front of people’s faces, they’re so appalled at your gall, at your audacity to flaunt your inhumanity, that they’re frozen in action and reduced to bitching about it. The best defense is denial, anyway.
Hellecchino was able, by way of his Domesday Book, to discover a pattern to the disappearances, temporally and geographically. This was not difficult to do, as people who are so sure of themselves that they feel they can do the most heinous of deeds right out in the open tend to operate in a very constrained and predictable manner. More often that not, they will also react predictably. And this is how Hellecchino worked to thwart Gyorgy’s plans for total Coahuila domination. This is why, too, the people of Chokepointe Piste considered Hellecchino to be a gifted, if not magical, being. Of course, he was a hero. Heroes were known for their superhuman life-saving efforts.
It was not at all surprising that at the time and placed of the next disappearance, directly upon the heels of outrageous behavior of one sort or another, in order to thwart it, Hellecchino was to be found. Unfortunately, spies and–worse–informers were about. Chicane Milchrot knew of the plot and simply retimed his disappearing act and–bingo!–Hellecchino was discredited, made to be a fool. Ll it takes is one such incident to get people to wondering about a person’s worth and reliability, especially those who are dependent, that is, those who do nothing. But this happened twice before Hellecchino found the clue to his failure. So, he set a trap. A stupid, simple trap. So simple in fact, that it smacked of the ingenious. Directly in front of the suspected snitch, Hellecchino told a secret to Buck that was easily overhead. And, sure enough, the Lagniappe did its bit just ahead of schedule. Hellecchino and Buck were there to witness it, as were, of course, a few others, including the ratfink, who was of course duly astounded and flabbergasted and ran off lickety-split to report the faux pas thus giving himself away. No one disappeared because Hellecchino told the intended to stay away until 10 minutes after the incident. Which he did. It was so good to see him again that Hellecchino’s reputation was restored. As for the ratfink, well, he disappeared, albeit not as cleanly rendered as Chicane Milchrot’s victims. Which is why Medusi Minkowski IV and a posse comeditatis tracked down Hellecchino and surrounded him, bull-in-the-ring fashion, south of Chokepointe Piste, on the way to McDonald’s farm, though why he was heading in that direction was a mystery and would remain so forever. However, legends grew up.
“Is this a welcoming committee?” asked Hellecchino after he’d been duly surrounded.
“Yore wanted for questioning,” said Medusi Minkowski IV.
“Well! Here I am. Ask away.”
“Yore willin’ to be questioned?” Medusi Minkowski8 IV was incredulous.
“Shore thang, sheriff. ‘Sides, I ain’t got much of a choice.”
“That’s for sure!” Medusi Minkowski IV jabbed a finger at Hellecchino.
And then everyone was silent. The posse comeditatis had come expecting resistance. They did not know what to do with acquiescence. Finally, Medusi Minkowski IV spurred his mount into the ring. He bent over his saddle horn and breathed down into Hellecchino’s face.
“I don’t like your sort,” he snarled.
“So?”
“I wanna know about the disappearance.”
“What disappearance?”
“Harvey Matusow.”
“Harvey?”
“Yes. Harvey. You hard o’ hearin’?”
“Harvey’s disappeared?”
“I just said so, didn’t I?”
“Where’d he go?”
“Are you really so fucking dumb?!@ When people disappears nobody knows where they gone.”
“How should I know?”
“I ain’t out here on no wild goose chase, goddamnit! Now, tell us what you know!”: shouted Medusi Minkowski IV, getting down off his horse.
“I don’t know noting’, ‘ceptin. . .”
Medusi Minkowski leaned in. All members of the po9sse comeditatis leaned in.
“‘Ceptin there’s been alotta disappearances lately.” Silence. “You ever check into them?”
Medusi Minkowski IV put his hands on his guns, took a wide stance. “I’m takin’ you in.”
“Hey!” Hellecchino held out his hands, pals up. “My hands are clean. I washed ‘em before I left Lu Da’s. See?”
Medusi Minkowski IV looked.
“Alright.” He stuck a finger in Hellecchino’s face. “I’m goin’ t’check. If’n you wasn’t there, yore ass is grass. Alright, boys,” he said, still staring menacingly at Hellecchino, “let’s ride.”
Medusi Minkowski IV turned and strode manfully, purposefully to his horse, relinquished hid hold on his guns and mounted up. The cowboys rode off, leaving Hellecchino standing in a cloud of dust.

Among the wondrous things that Chicane Milchrot had created–aside from the disappearing machine and an eater of the dead–was a remote sensing telegraph. A hand ditta. It was because of this particular invention that Chicane was able to be at the next disappearance at the same time Hellecchino was: he had been telegraphed.
“Ah-ha! I’ve got you now, Hellecchino! You’ll never get away.” Eureka’s Chicane Milchrot.
Hellecchino was surprised. “Whoa!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? I mean. . .how did you know?”
“I have a hand job,” announced Chicane rather proudly, throwing out his chest.
With that, the great scientist opened up his hand and showed Hellecchino his new device: the hand job. AKA the hand conn. Gyorgy Yabu, however, called it the Bush Pilot. Hellecchino was duly amazed if not over-reactive, a kind of wild goose chasing behavior in order to induce the confidently proud scientists to further exhibit his device. Chicane was more than obliging.
After an hour or two of dissertation, Hellecchino, still nodding and smiling, asked the dapper fabricationist one simple question. It was a safe question because there was no one else around. Thus Chicane Milchrot’s next solution to the problem would hurt no one in particular.
“Now you have me, Dr. Milchrot, what are you going to do with me?”
“Ah-ha!” And the hand job disappeared into a large side pocket of his Zoot Suit coat and out of another another hand held device appeared. “I’m going to disappear you with my mini-lagniappe.” And without another word, he flicked a switch and the little gadget leapt to life. “What’re you gonna do about that!” A button was depressed –but too late.
You see, Hellecchino had jumped back and assumed one of the many Kong-fu pre-set stances, left hand extended before him, a look of horror or hatred on his face, and when the mini-lagniappe’s disappearing ray struck his hand Dr. Chicane Milchrot disappeared with a little pop. He had been rendered into never never land. Because Hellecchino was holding a mirror in his extended hand and the ray of the unseen was imaged right back at the Frankensteinian doctor.
End of problem.
Many years later, Hellecchino was to explain this phenomenon by stating that a good many people could not look at themselves in a mirror because they’d see nothing. He did not tell that he’d gotten the mirror from Walt Disney, though. That would have been just too unbelievable. Who believes in magic mirrors, eh?
Later that night, as Gyorgy was fretting that his ace in the hole scientist was not home yet, Hellecchino, Jim Hatfield and Buck were discussing things over an open fire outside the cinderblock house. There was no need to hide any more. Indeed, it was better to be out in the open and above-board with everything as this would be threateningly frustrating to the bad guys who thought they owned the world and assumed everyone was secretly plotting against them, thus creating a self-fulfilling prophesy, creating their own little world and, at the same time, imposing a nightmare scenario on everyone else. A kind of perpetual paranoia machine.
“Seems like we got ourselves a new problem,” opined Jim Hatfield.
“How so, Ranger?”
“Buck,” Jim leaned forward on his chair, “I’m not a Ranger any more.”
“But. . .but. . .you’ll always be Ranger Jim to me. Ya just can’t give up yore identity like that. It ain’t right.”
“I’m still the same man, Buck. Just with a coat of a different color.”
“What’m I gonna call you, then?”
“Jim would be fine.”
“How’m I s’posed to do that? There are so many Jims.” Buck chewed on a thought for awhile. “I’ll call you Jimhatfield.”
“How about me?” said a voice from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
“Hello, Jim.”
“Hello, Jim. What are y’all doing?”
“We have a problem now Hellecchino got rid of Milchrot. Come on in and join the discussion,” Jim Hatfield said.
“How can getting rid of Milchrot be a problem?” queried Jim Griffin.
“Well. . .we still have to find and deactivate the machine and with Milchrot gone there’s no telling what Yabu will do.”
Jim Griffin shook his head. “You really did it this time, Hellecchino.”
“I’m fallible. I’m only human,” Hellecchino spread his hands sheepishly.
“Yore a hero, Hellecchino. You ain’t allowed,” said Buck. “Not everybody can be a hero, y’know.”
“There’s no need for everyone to be a hero, Buck,” Hellecchino clapped his sidekick on the back. “I’ll just have to think of something, that’s all.”
“But yore a hero!”
“C’mon, Buck,” Jim Griffin remonstrated. “Give the guy a chance. It’s not like it’s the end of the world.”
“It is if Yabu discovers Milchrot is no longer around!” shouted Buck.
“Well, then,” drawled Jim Hatfield, “we’ll have to make sure he doesn’t find out right away. That’s all.”
“How you plan on doin’ it?”
“That’s the problem we’re discussing here, Buck,” Hellecchino quipped.
“Somebody better start thinkin’ then,” mumbled the little man.
So they all sat around thinking for awhile.
“We have to get to the machine and put it out of commission, it seems to me,” suggested Jim Griffin.
“Nobody gets into Yabu’s ranch.”
“If he thought it was one of his own. . .”
“Milchrot’s gone. Disappeared by his own hand.”
“But his assistant’s still here.”
Jim Griffin sat back and let the silence settle.
“He gotta assistant?” asked Buck, screwing up his face.
“He does now.”
“Yore joshin’ me!”
Hellecchino laughed.
“Where did he come from, Jim?”
“We just made him up, Jim. Dr. Theodore Nemore.”
Hellecchino laughed. People were solving their own problems. Amazing!
“I’ve been talkin’ to Sherlock Holmes about disguises. . .” Jim Griffin let the thought hang in the air again.
After a moment, Buck slapped his thigh. “We just make up Hellecchino and send him in there. Great idea Jimgriffin.”
“Nope. Not Hellecchino.”
“Nope, Not me,” said Hellecchino.
“Who then?” asked Jim Hatfield.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Nope. Not me. No, sir. I’m not up to–I’m not going to be in one of your fictions, Jim Griffin!”
“I’ll work out okay, Jim.”
“No it won’t.”
“You doubtin’ my creativity?”
“Ain’t no doubt about it.”
“Good! Come on with me and I’ll fix you right up. In the meantime, we have to come up with an excuse for Milchrot not being around.”
Jim Griffin pushed Jim Hatfield out, leaving Hellecchino and Buck to come up with a lame duck excuse for Milchrot sending his trusted assistant to take up the slack. But where to put the good doctor in the meantime. . .

when the stone man nods his head

March 7, 2008

It was a long journey and I stopped to rest. My legs ached from hanging loosely down from the saddle blanket. My ass from the donkey’s backbone. My lower back from the animal’s steady plodding sway. My hat shaded me but sweat oozed out around the brim and coursed down my face, collecting in my moustache and beard. I halted the donkey and slid off. I shambled to the edge of the road hoping the bow in my legs would straighten up. The dusty air was no better at the side of the road but I perched atop a rock anyway. My donkey lumbered off to graze near-by, content to be free of my lead. I tried to clear the dust from before me. I sneezed. This was not the first time. I decided that resting here, in such tainted air, was not such a good idea. But where was the surcease? I led my reluctant ass back to the roadway, mounted and continued my journey.
Not too much farther along, I came upon another traveller. I stopped. He sat on the side of the road. On a stone. His staff lay at his feet, covered with the detritus of his travels and collecting more. I saw no pack beside him. He was travelling light. He rocked and moaned as if asking pity of the relentless gods. Clutched in one hand, the veins standing out against his dusky skin, was a little pouch. A medicine or herb bag. Perhaps a magic charm lay within, for he occasionally shook it.
“Is that medicine in the bag?”
“Yes. Here. Take it.”
“I don’t need it but it might do you some good. What’s the problem?”
“Nothing can help me. I’ve lost my way and don’t know where I am.”
“Well, then, come along with me. We shall be two.”
“No. I can’t.”
“I don’t understand. We must find you–”
“Where are you going?”
“Down the road. To my destination”
“Where is your destination?”
“At the end of my journey. And yours?”
“I cannot tell you.”
“I see.”
“A sword blade cuts things but eyes do not see themselves.”
“Then what can you tell me?”
“I can tell you why this road is so dusty.”
“Can you?”
“Yes. I can.”
I thought about this for a moment. This powdered air was a bit unnatural. There was no wind. As he didn’t seem inclined to continue, I thought I might humor him and dismounted, taking a seat beside him.
“Why is this road so dusty, then?”
“Do you really want to know or are you humoring me?”
“Yes. I have sat beside you.”
“I see that. Are you sure you don’t want this medicine? It’s good medicine. No explanation needed.”
“I have no disease.”
“Well then. . .I’ll begin my story. It isn’t a long story. As stories go.”
“I have plenty of time.”
“Are you some kind of holy man?”
“No. I wouldn’t say so.”
“Ah. . .a wise man!”
“I wouldn’t call myself that.”
“It’s what others think and say about you that makes you what you are.”
“So wise men and fools live together.”
“Yes! That’s it. And they travel down this road. But that’s not where the dust comes from. That is from the digging of Jeppe. You don’t now Jeppe. You’re not from these parts. This dust is because Jeppe became obsessed with digging. So much so that people avoided him. And this road. One day he found a tiny gold nugget beside the road. A little farther on he spied another. Jeppe was a fool. He did not look up to see that there was a rich merchant ahead of him with a hole in his saddlebag. Jeppe ran home to get some digging utensils. His wife caught him. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ ‘I’m digging for gold.’ ‘You put those tools back before I beat some sense into you.’ ‘Oh woman of little faith! What do you think this is?’ He thrust the gold nuggets in her face. She took them from him. As was her wont. She took everything from him lest it slip through his fingers. Jeppe scampered off to his digging.
“Jeppe dug pits all along the roadside. He dug furiously. There was no gold. Never had been. Jeppe, though, could not see that, immersed in his cloud as he was. Once he had dug up one side of the road, he started on the other. The clouds of dust he raised became thicker. So thick he could not see where he was going. Or what he was doing. Travellers began taking other roads than this to avoid the dust and discomfort. The way was longer but what could they do? They raised the prices on their goods to make up for lost time. Around town, it began to be asked, ‘When will the fellow who plays with dirt ever be done?’
“Well, one day Jeppe struck his gold. ‘Eureka!’ he cried. ‘I’ve done it!’ By this time he had dug himself out near the lake. You’ll see the place a little farther on. There’s a marker there. He had covered that lake with dust. The townsmen said that at night the frogs could be heard coughing and choking in Jeppe’s dust. People couldn’t eat fish any more. They died from lack of oxygen.
“Jeppe saw his little vein of gold and shouted. Thinking one more thrust would unearth more gold, he jabbed at the sparkling metal. His shovel clanged. Sparks flew. Dust and debris were tossed up around him. Jeppe screamed, grabbing at his face. He twisted and shouted and writhed about until he fell into the lake and drowned. Jeppe hit gold alright. And then he blinded himself with a shard of the precious metal.”
The man became silent. He still rocked back and forth. He still held the bag of medicine out and up, an offering. I waited for more but as no more seemed to be forthcoming, I spoke up.
“So that’s why this road is so dusty?”
“It is.”
“That’s very interesting.”
“You must take the medicine.”
“I have no need of it.”
“You will. It is medicine. It will cure you. If you go along this road.”
“Let me tell you a story.”
“Eh? You have a story?”
“Yes. I’ve travelled a bit.”
“Ah. Have you? Well, then. I’ll hear your story.”
“In a far off land there was a doctor. He was a very good doctor. People liked him. One day a strange epidemic came into his town. It crippled children and killed adults. It threatened to sweep through the district, leaving a decimated ruin of a world behind. Luckily, however, this good doctor stumbled onto a cure for the disease. Instantly he became famous. For the epidemic was not just in his district. It was throughout the land.
“As the ravaging disease was taken under control, more and more uses were found for his medicine. His fame grew as did the stories about him. But his practice at home suffered. He fell under the spell of Super Doc. His diagnosing became superficial, always ending with a treatment of his curative. There were deaths and defections. This doctor had stopped paying attention to people.
“This went on for some time until he had lost all his old patients. He then turned to treating out-of-towners who wanted a personal infusion of his magical curative. The doctor, coming to believe that it could cure anything, was more than happy to oblige. Until he gave his medicine to a young girl who promptly died. When questioned about this, it was found that the doctor had not diagnosed the girl but simply given her the miracle cure as a matter of course. The girl was his daughter.”
“So. . .you will take this medicine?”
“I’m not sick.”
“You will be when you get to the other side of this dust.”
“Hmm. . .since you are staying here in the middle of this dirty fog, I should think you will need it more than me.”
With that, I gathered up the halter rope of my donkey and set out on my journey again. The man had been right. The dust did get worse. But once past the lake, the air suddenly cleared. I took a deep breath. I felt this was the first I had breathed in weeks. I sat down to rest and clear my lungs. I sat back and looked at the clouds and thought about the meaning of life. Interesting that there were as many meanings to life as there were people. Everyone was ready to fight for the preeminence of his meaning. How silly this was. There is a saying, all voices are the master’s voice, all forms are the master’s form. Still, there are those that think one voice is many voices. If it’s all one, why does anyone fight over it? Why does anyone try to change others’ minds? There is no miracle cure for life.
I took a deep breath and rose. I could not stay here forever, lost in the ramblings of an aging man. A common man on a journey of no particular importance. I gathered up my donkey’s lead and led him down the road into the sunset, happy to walk at a time like this.

the empty cart

March 7, 2008

Mr. King walked to work as he had for the past year, with an assured step and a sense of his own importance. Here he was, at age 36, second in command of a small school within a big college. He was in charge of production and he had been successful enough at his young age that continuance in his position was assured. After all, nothing had happened on his watch; this was because he believed in smoothness and harmony. Balance was what was important and as long as nothing happened balance was maintained. Mr. King even prided himself at the balance in his own life.
Mr. King did not think about why the morning was so enjoyable. It was, in fact, no more enjoyable or wonderful or enjoined as it was any other day. As per usual, nature was without consideration of Mr. King. So, Mr. King was imbuing the day with his own perception of himself, as men have done since time immemorial; however, this is different from projection, being more akin to the Queen’s magic mirror, for nature cannot answer back, so man gives it voice for his own pleasure.
Mr. King was so pleased with the world because he was so pleased with himself. He had been up into the wee hours of the morning, the deep shadows filling his office, slithering stealthily along walls and floor and ceiling until he was alone by himself in a pool of metallic light until a wrinkled smile broke up his face and he sighed through his tired teeth. He had solved his problem. He had figured out how to get rid of an irritant, an unwonted burden thrust upon him by necessity. And this very morning he struck. The simplicity of the solution brought another crooked smile to his bovine face. Foreigners always thought themselves superior, so ingratiatingly superior, but, in reality, they were ignorant arrogants—which was why it was so terribly easy to fix this one’s wagon. He was Mr. King. He was Dean. He could do it. So, he did it. Mr. King terminated the foreigner’s priveleges based on executive decision based on rules and regulations that could be bent and adjusted when and where necessary. This was the traditional way. It was making sure nothing happened. By the time the ugly foreigner—ugly being a sign of degeneration and decadence—discovered that he’d been invalidated, it would be too late. Satisfaction was so easy to come by sometimes.
And so, the morning was fine and blown full of confidence. But Mr. King did not think of the connection between his self-righteous victory and the nature, which was, inreality, indifferent to him. Because he did not think so deeply was not a symptom of a wanting or weakness in intellectual ability. No. Mr. King was one of those liberals who has an open heart and curtained windows and closed shutters—he kept his best rooms empty awaiting guests he didn’t have to put up.
As he was crossing a side street, without looking as was his wont, something untoward occurred. That is, something that was not supposed to happen. Mr. King was hit by a racing electric bike, spun around and had his pants leg torn. He called after the driver but what could he do? Nothing. As he was uninjured, it was nothing serious and so he continued on his way. Mr. King would telephone Mrs. King and have her bring another pair of pants to the office.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Call my wife and have her bring me another pair, would you?” said Mr. King to his secretary and disappeared into his office.
Mr. King never shut his door when he was in the office. It was more amenable and inviting to have it open. To close his door would be closing other people out and Mr. King did not wish to give that impression. No. If he had private business with a subordinate, Mr. King went elsewhere and shut the door there. But, it must be said in all fairness that Mr. King never invited anyone into his office because no one ever came by. Other than his secretary.
Shortly after Mr. King had made himself at home in his nice leather chair, there was a loud crack outside his window and a large branch from the great big tree there plummeted to the ground, shearing off scads of smaller branches in passing and carrying telephone and electrical wiring with it. These lines snapped, the electric lines writhing around like angry snakes and spitting fire. The building went dark. Nothing worked. All activity ceased. Even at 10 AM, without lights it was dark and eerie. There was no background hum. Nothing.
“What was that!?” shouted the secretary.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see a thing.”
“What do you think we ought to do?”
“Nothing. Someone will fix whatever it is.”
As the cracking and popping continued outside, the secretary went to the window, opened it and leaned out. A crowd had gathered across the street. They were watching the dying spasms of the electrical line and the small fire the sparks had ignited in the dry leaves. It wasn’t a big fire but a bit more than a smoulder. The secretary looked hard—no one was doing anything. It wasn’t often they got to see a fire in broad daylight, so they were perhaps enjoying the spectacle.
“Mr. King?”
“Yes?”
“People are doing nothing out there.”
“And we’re doing nothing up here.”
“But there’s a fire out there.”
Mr. King grudgingly rose from his seat, went to the window, opened it and looked out. “Sure enough,” he said, “there is.”
“What should we do?” The secretary squealed, seeing the first flames erupt from the smoulder.
“There’s nothing we can do. Besides, the appropriate responsible parties will arrive soon.”
Mr. King sat back down. The gentle crackling and popping from outside the window lulled him into a half-sleeping stupor, so that he did not wake to the shouts of the people until the blaze was a virtual bonfire and his curtains were melting and curling round the edges. There was nothing he could do. But suddenly he wanted to do something. He wanted to do something in the worst pssible way and ran around the office shouting, “Do something! Do something! Somebody do something!”

No one ever found out just what it was that happened. There was a fire, a conflagation, yes. This was readily agreed to. In fact, it could not be denied. Too many people had seen it. But, then, well, an explanation was in order so that throughout the university there was a frenzied activity. People who had not been known to have move, other than for nature, food and going home, shuffled furiously from office to office, sometimes muttering under their breaths, sometimes shaking handsful of paper. Once self-assured, smooth telephone voices mutated into strident, pinched acute angles sharp and hard enough to cut diamonds.
It could not be the Fire Department’s fault, if for no other reason than the firehouse was too far away to have had any effect if it had known. But, of course, it was not called and by the time the billowing smoke came to the firemen’s attention, it was too late. The clouds did look like storm clouds—at least to begin with. And it was the rainy season. Such billowing dark clouds were a common occurrence and protented rain. Who could know that they would bring a bonfire?
The campus police were about their first priority and most important business: directing traffic. There was a rather middling serious accident down at the major intersection and traffic had to be rerouted amidst the bloody murder shouting drivers and the ineffectual amelioration of the campus police on the scene. City police were also involved in the melee, so their hands were full too—so many people to police. By the time they were free to acknowledge the greater world around them, it was too late and they had another problem on their hands: keeping the crowds away from the blaze.
And the administration across the street. . .well, they were busy shuffling paperwork concerning human affirs—as they were after the fact—to have the time to look out their smoked-glass privy-windows and through the heavy foliage of the trees at the workings of the world. Everyone must, after all, be responsible for carrying out his duty else the machinery of life will not function smoothly and efficiently, albeit somewhat slowly.
Teachers being the dedicated and responsible lot they are, the school was sure they were concentrating on carrying out their jobs instructing students on the most efficatious and appropriate way to think. So that a great many students were similarly engaged in their life’s work: making the grade. There could be no fault here.
There were those students, staff and visitors who were not otherwise engaged to consider. They watched in dumb horror, it is true, but the innocence of the passer-by cannot be questioned. They were not there by design, chance being what it is. Though, of course, not all passers-by are equal. That is, some are entirely different. The school found this to be notably notable and a good lead to be investigated fully and, so, they began examining the evidence. Sure enough, an oddity exhibited itself, as oddities are wont to do. It was observed, after seemingly endless interviews, that, off to one side of the crowd, a foreigner had been seen sculking about. With blackened face and hands. And, oh yes—singeing to his shirt. Definitely a him. Definitely foreign, judging from his nose and his blond hair. All of the locals were blackheads.
Here was the culprit. The fault had been found and explanations and excuses could be laid aside and an easy breath drawn.
But when he was sought after, no one could find him. True, he had enough time to abscond, as the fault-finding investigation had taken six weeks due to the care and consideration required in such a sensitive situation. It was decided then to accept, in the name of saving face and assuring a continuance of parental and alumni giving, as well as maintenance of enrollment, that circumspection was the better part of valor and the incident was ascribed to a freak of nature, much as this went against the controlling interests of the school officials. But, after all, no foreigner, no problem.

A page 17 story later appeared in one of the city’s rags about the heroic efforts of some foreigner in saving someone from some burning building, a story gotten from some secretary or other. It was a story that died a quick death.

the law east of the pecos

March 7, 2008

It was one of those usual Indian Summer Octobers when the sky is a bluer blue and the wind is windy, portending the incoming clouds and greyness that mark off winter form the rest of the year, when Jim Hatfield rode into Chokepointe Piste. He’d been gone a long time, so no one questioned or even raised a second thought to his hardened look. Oh, he smiled at those who spoke to him, his white teeth flashing in the dusky sunlight, but he eyes remained uninvolved and kind of like the sky over the Gulf of Mexico before a storm. Otherwise, he looked his usual self: tall in the saddle, his white hat hot quite hiding his jet-black hair, a straight back with his left hand on the reins and his right running free along his side and brushing his holster, his dusty boots held slightly forwards so he didn’t accidentally spur Goldy into a run for his life. He just wasn’t too happy.
Like every range rider, Jim rode straight to the saloon to wet his whistle. There’s a lot to be said for the healthful effects of fresh water or the succulence of cactus or aloe, but a man of the range needs a little more taste, a little more fire, and even though it was inevitably a shot or two of the rawest rotgut whiskey west of Boston, Baltimore or Baton Rouge, it was a welcome quaff indeed. But, unlike most saddlebums, drifters and cowpokes, Jim was a responsible man. He was a Texas Ranger. The Texas Rangers’ Texas Ranger. Jim Hatfield had obligations and he was not a man to shirk his duty. So, he only had one shot and then strode back out of the saloon. He looked both ways, up and down the boardwalk, and then crossed the street to the Texas Ranger office.
The glass-paned door was dusty, not having been opened or cleaned in his absence, and inside was musty and humid. Upon opening the door, the little office exhaled a great pent up sigh of hot air. Jim did not close the door. He jangled to the solitary desk and sat down in the old swivel chair. He dusted off the desk, took his hat off and set it at the far left corner of the desk top. From the stubborn desk drawer, Jim drew out a piece of paper, a pen and a bottle of ink. It was report writing time.
Later, after he closed up shop and took his golden sorrel to Kaikai’s livery that he discovered the wall. He stood there in the dusty roadway looking at its expressionless face. He looked up and down the length of wall before him and couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was doing there. Goldy snorted and shook his head.
“Kaikai,” Jim hailed the horse hosteller.
“Well, Jim Hatfield!” said Kaikai, jumping up from his chair. “When did you blow into town? Good to have you back.”
“Thanks. Good to be back. Sleeping out on the plains ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Cooped up schoolboy nonsense, eh? Bet your legs are sore, too.”
“I guess you can tell by the way I’m walking,” Jim smiled and patted him on the back as he moved into the darker, shadier interior of the great barn. “This old friend of mine’s tired too. You take good care of him.”
“Don’t I always?”
“You’re a good man, Kaikai.”
“Alot’s been happenin’ since you been gone,” ventured the stocky little man.
“So I see.”
“Oh, yeah. That too. Kinda splits the world into two difficult parts. Like a woman ain’t speakin’ to her man over somethin’ she ain’t talkin’ to him about ’cause if she tole him what was buggin’ her she’d be talking to him and she ain’t talkin’ to him.”
Jim began unsaddling Goldy. “Must not be too good for business, either.”
“No. It ain’t. I expect to make it through the winter but I ain’t too sure of the summer. Ain’t nobody thought o’ that, of what’s gonna happen tomorrow.”
“Depends on where your focus is, I guess.”
“I guess. People got longer noses than that there French guy. Still. . .damnedest thing I ever seen.”
“Me too. Worse than any fence out on the range,” sighed Jim. “Gimme the brush, will you?”
Kaikai did so.
“What the hell they got fences out there for?”
“Beats the hell outa me. Makes gettin’ around difficult. You have no idea how far I had to ride outa my way to get where I was going.” He decided against talking about the other kind of fence out there in God’s Country, the kind that was more or less invisible unless you looked at the kind of land it enclosed and the comings and goings of the blue-clad caretakers and the lost faces of the contained. Jim shook his head. His white brethren had such ironic names for things. Even the Great Wall of China did not keep the barbarians out.
“Why do people feel they have to own a piece of the world and keep other people off’n it? Downright uncivil, if’n you ask me.”
“Well, Kaikai, my man, I saw enough uncivility while I was gone to make any man sick.” Jim handed the brush back to Kaikai. “But. . .I don’t want to dwell on it now. I want to put my feet up and relax a bit. Maybe I’ll have better eyesight in the morning.”
“It’ll still be there, Jim.”
“I suppose you’re right. But I gotta rest anyway.”

The next day, Jim rode on out to Fort Fisher to make his report and catch up on shop talk but there was no one around other than the little secretary, Miss Brooks, a new face for Jim Hatfield.
“Hi. I’m Jim Hatfield. Where is everybody?”
“Hi, Ranger Hatfield. I’m Miss Brooks. Somewhere or other I lost my given name but, anyway, a secretary doesn’t need one, does she? No one knows who we are–not like you. Everyone’s heard of you. I’ve been waiting to meet you and now here you are! Right out of the blue yonder. You’re just as tall and handsome as your dime novels depict you to be.”
“You can’t believe everything you read, Miss Brooks.”
“Why’s that, Ranger Hatfield? Are you telling me your report here is fiction?”
“No, ma’am. I’m not. It’s not. It all has to do with rhetoric and writing one thing when you mean another. Using a lot of high-sounding words to impress you with your stupidity.”
“Oh, yes. Convincing people of a wrong thing just to convince ‘em. Um-hum. I’ve been there. I used to be a school teacher, you know.”
“What brought you out to the wild west?”
“Intellectual stimulation.”
“Things must be dull back East.”
“Dull. Yes. That’s one way to put it.”
“I see.” Jim shuffled his feet.
“The answer to your question is that they’re all out policing the wall that Gyorgy built.”
“I might have known it was his idea.”
“They draw walls differently in the East. You can’t see the walls out there. It’s called ‘it’s just the way things are.’ “
“Oh, yes. I know those walls. They’re out here, too.”
“Well, I guess I haven’t gone far enough, then.”
“Well, look, Miss Brooks. Since no one’s around, I’m going on back to Chokepointe Piste. That’s my station. You tell the Captain I’m back, will you?”
“Sure thing, Ranger Hatfield.”
Back in Chokepointe Piste, Jim didn’t rightly know where to go. His usual haunt was on the other side of the wall. He’d learned quite quickly which side was the good side. So, he went on to The Lone Star Inn & Bordello. No sooner had he swung through the batwings than a booming voice called out from the far end.
“Jim Hatfield!”
Jim looked up. There at a table just to one side of the backroom door sat his old buddy, Jim Griffin, writer extraordinaire.
“Long time no see, Jim Griffin,” he shouted back.
“Come on over and join me, Jim Hatfield. Ain’t had no one to talk to since you left town.”
“Where’s Buck?”
“Oh, he’s got his own place out north of town. A toll booth or something like that. Most disgusting block house you ever saw. Great big umbrella atop the roof, too.”
Jim sauntered over. “Do tell.”
“It’s all on account of that new guy that blew into town and now ain’t here no more. Name of Hellecchino. He certainly made things interesting around here.”
“Never heard of him,” Jim commented as he sat down.
“Nor did nobody. Goofiest lookin’ cowboy I ever saw.”
“Musta got his idea of how to dress from your books.”
“Hey, hey!” said Jim Griffin grinning from ear to ear. “Is that any way to say howdy-do?”
“Best I can do for a damn scribbler. At least you know somebody’s reading your books.”
“Only person I ever met. Here’s to ya,” and Jim saluted Jim with his sarsaparilla.
“How can you drink that stuff, Griff?”
“Ten o’clock in the morning. That’s how.”
“Hey, Randy?” called Jim to the bartender. “You got any coffee in the back?”
“I can heat it up, Jim,” suggested Randy.
“That’d be appreciated.”
And so it was that over more or less burnt coffee and sarsaparilla the two Jim’s told their tales, though mostly it was Jim Griffin, for he was not only a writer, he was a talker. He told about the things Hellecchino had done, especially the embarrassment of Clyde Moyen Bucket, the Millinery Bargaining Incident as it had come to be known. Jim Hatfield laughed fully and heartily, as if he had not laughed in centuries and now all of the pent up humanity came pouring forth in great puffs of sound. It was around noon before they took a break–before Jim Griffin ran out of talking points–and so they decided to go to Fancy Dan’s for some lunch.
“Can’t afford a place like that on a Ranger’s salary, Jim.”
“I’ll pay–if’n it ain’t on the house. You know how these people treat you ’round here.”
“Yeah,” Jim stood up, “and it gets to me sometimes. I can’t be a hero all the time. I’m only human.”
“Ain’t many o’ your type left, seems to me, buddy. Come on. Let’s go.”

The table in the far front corner, just outside the visible portion of the window, was the favorite of Jim Griffin. Indeed, he’d not sit anywhere else and if it were taken, he’d go elsewhere for his feeding. But this particular day, there weren’t too many customers. Jim Griffin ordered two shredded pork sandwiches on thick bread and two beers. “And bring the beer now. This man’s got a thirst to kill from riding through range dust.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Griffin. How are you, Ranger Hatfield? Good to have you back in town.”
“Thanks, Dan. It’s good to be back.”
As Dan personally brought the beers to the Jims, he smiled and said, “This’ll be on the house.”
“Rangers don’t take bribes, Dan.”
“Jim Hatfield!” said Dan straightening up and opening his eyes wide. “However could you think that of me?”
The three men laughed and Dan went back to his front desk and his new-fangled adding machine. He’d not had it long, perhaps a year, but the red paint on the handle had been worn off in spots and the metallic paint was chipped in places. The mechanical operating noise that was the drawback to any technology was a little more clattering that when he’d bought it. But apparently it still worked fine. Jim Hatfield noted a few new wall hangings as he looked around the place. Mostly old wanted posters in shiny black frames. Pictures of bad guys certainly were romanticized, thought Jim. They usually weren’t so grubby–or so well-got-up in some cases.
“So. . .tell me about yourself, Jim,” said Jim.
“Ain’t much to tell,” Jim said, drinking his beer and trying to avoid the subject. He looked out the window.
Jim let him have some time to himself, then suggested, “Chasin’ the bad guys gets to you sometimes, don’t it?”
“Sometimes the guys you’re chasin’ ain’t the bad ones,” drawled Jim.
Another pause imposed itself between the friends. Both took drinks of their beers, Jim Griffin wiping the suds from his mustache. Jim Hatfield, contrary to fashion, did not sport a mustache. He was clean shaven, what the women called devilishly handsome.
Although his eyes flashed that kind of sea grey that presaged action, Jim Hatfield spoke slowly, “I was sent out to round up the Indians. Put ‘em back in their places.” He didn’t speak for awhile again. “I couldn’t do it this time, Griff. I spent my time roundin’ ‘em up and then listenin’ to ‘em talk. There ain’t nothin’ dangerous ’bout ‘em.”
Jim Griffin knew that something was bothering his friend in a deep and abiding way, for he rarely spoke such poor English.
“God damn,” Jim Hatfield whispered and took another drink. “There’s a wall up out there, Griff, an’ I come back here and I find another kinda wall. Out there it’s a wall of words an’ ideas that just don’t fit reality. . .don’t fit the crime. That’s what it is, Griff. A crime. And al the talkin’ in the world ain’t gonna make it fit the facts. Not at all.”
“Prejudice?”
“Yeah. . .yeah. It’s that, I guess. But it’s bigger and so invisible it can be denied as it’s being built–not just by the builders, neither. Both sides got. . .both sides are stuck in the mire.”
Jim Hatfield finished his beer. Jim Griffin signaled for another.
“This’ll have to last me, Griff. I still got work to do.”
“You don’t hafta apologize to me, buddy.”
“Well, then, who the hell do I apologize to for what it is I’m supposed to be doing!”
“Calm down, big boy.”
“You ever been with the Indians, Griff?”
“No. Can’t say as I have. They’re kind of off-putting. Don’t smile much.”
“They ain’t got much to smile about. . .and their souls come out in their smiles. They don’t want that. They gotta keep somethin’ for themselves. White man’s taken everything else.”
The waitress, Lulu’s replacement, brought the sandwiches and plopped them down on the table. She turned and trundled back to the kitchen.
“She’s a saucy wench,” commented Jim Griffin.
“Saucy wenches ain’t the problem, Griff.”
“No. I s’pose not. Not out on the range.”
“It was easy trailing them,” began Jim Hatfield. “There was no attempt to hide their coming and goings. When I came upon them, I camped around their tee-pees. I told them why I’d come. They invited me in for dinner. After dinner, we sat around chatting, everyone speaking his turn until they had had their say. Then they quietly looked at me. What was I supposed to say to a bunch of people we raped of their self-respect? I felt sick to my stomach for my job.”
“You’re a Texas Ranger, Jim. You have a duty.”
“Not when my duty is hurtin’ others, I ain’t!” his eyes flashed grey again.
“Easy, boy. Easy,” calmed Griff. “Go on with your story.”
“I told that group that sooner or later they’d get caught. I couldn’t stop that.” Jim sighed, drank some. “The old one stood up and signaled me to follow him. We went outside. The sky was red and purple and orange all around its edge and creeping in on the grey-blue up top. A few stars glinted up there. He indicated the surrounding countryside in its eerie sunset light. He swept his hand over the whole of it. Big and open like I never seen it, Griff. I was bowled over by it. Then, he touched my shoulder. ‘Even a little freedom can keep a man from death.” Well, I spent the night and rode on the next morning. Next day, I came upon a different group of Indians–you know, Griff. . .they’re not all alike. So many different looks, so many different characters.” Jim stopped for another sip of beer. “This group was led by an old grandmother, Singing Cloud. She was very different, very different. I listened to her tell a story to the children.” Jim took another sip. “I saw. . .I saw in this story an ill-fortuned future. She showed me how prejudice is passed on and kept alive and I saw how some people must keep their hat alive in order to stay alive themselves. They kind of need it like people need air. This is her story, a best as I recollect. . .
‘The white man says, it is aggravating you can not talk to these people, they never give a straight answer but speak instead in circles.
Grandmother would laugh and try to explain, there are many answers to each question it is the seeking that brings the lesson.
White man writes his words in books hard answers in black and white, but how many times through the years are these answers proved untrue?
Red man tells his children if you ask then you should be seeking, there is no set answer the questions have many shadings.
White man says these are the rules I ask you answer it is that simple, what I say is so must be, I went to school and was taught this way.
Red man laughs and says to him, Mother Earth is my school what she tells she proves, in this life there are no rules everything is always changing.
White man says God rules my life, He approves my greed and strife, because my skin is white He loves my kind more than yours.
Red man answers with a question, did not Creator make all things, what then makes you better than the rocks, earth and trees?
White man says I have a brain, I can think, feel, love and hate, I know that I am right do not I rule all in sight?
Red man only laughs and laughs, if you had a brain you forgot to use it, your kind only destroys and what you rule is only in your mind.
Rise up say your prayers give thanks to your Creator, sing, dance, find true joy, live your life in humbleness.
We are equals all in the sight of our Creator, there are answers to every question it is up to you to find them.
The man who forces his truth on another has no truth, peace or happiness, he is forever on his guard afraid someone will take it from him.
Live to find peace, gentleness and unity of heart, let the feelings in your spirit guide you, each person knows right from wrong and there is no person better than another!’ “
“Sounds like she’s damning all white folk, not just the bad guys,” commented Griff.
“Yup. I was real uncomfortable staying there, so I made some excuse or other and slept out in the open. I told her they’d sooner or later find her but she just spat into the dirt and walked away. I roamed around for awhile, not really wanting to have anything to do with anybody, red, white or black, until some old man found me sitting on a bluff throwing stones into the stream at its foot. He took me back to his camp. He was a man of few words. But the next day he took me herb hunting with him. At noon, we stopped and had some pemmican, sitting in the shade of the only tree for miles. Don’t see how he found it. There’d been none all day. “See. . .how cruel the whites look. Their lips are thin, their noses sharp, their faces furrowed and distorted by folds. Their eyes have a staring expression. They are always seeking something. What are they seeking? The whites always want something. They are always uneasy and restless. We do not know what they want. We do not understand them. We think that they are mad.’ ‘Why are whites all mad?’ ‘They say they think with their heads.’ ‘Of course. What do you think with?’ ‘We think here.’ He tapped himself on the chest. ‘Why are you telling me this? I am a white man.’ ‘You are a different kind of white man. For you, the vessel floats freely on deep, alien seas.’ ‘I am afraid it is a new kind of sailing.’ ‘And what is more enjoyable, catching sight of new shores or discovering new approaches to old knowledge almost forgotten.’ Then he got up and went back to his tee-pee.” Jim finished his beer. “I stayed awhile with those people. But eventually, I had to come back.” He sat back in his chair. “I do not like my job any more, Griff.”
“What’re you gonna do about it?”
“I don’t know,” sighed Jim.
In the silence that followed, the other customer, who’d been sitting quietly, apparently minding his own business, scraped his chair back and stomped out. He stopped on the boardwalk and spit viciously, then mounted his horse and rode off.
“You gonna quit?”
“There are bad people out there, Griff.”
“Hell of a place for you to be in, buddy.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“Maybe I’ll write this into my next book.”
“And ruin your career?”
“I can always get the you-guy tortured and killed. Gotta satisfy the bloodthirsty public, you know.”
The both laughed.
Later, sitting in his office going over the mail, Jim Hatfield was interrupted by a dusty cowboy. The same cowboy who stomped out of Fancy Dan’s.
“Mr. Yabu wants to see you,” he said and remained standing in the doorway.
Jim looked up at him, realized the messenger wasn’t going anywhere and rose slowly to his full height. He put his hat on and strode over to the door, standing over the short cowboy.
“You gonna let me get my horse or you gonna stand there like a cow paddy waitin’ for the sun to turn you into a pancake?”
The dusty dude stepped out of the way. He mounted his horse and followed Jim to Kaikai’s. Then he followed Him all the way to Hacienda loco plátano where he dismounted, mounted the porch, opened the door and poked his head through the opening.
“That fella’s here.” And then he stepped off the porch and led his horse to the corral, where a group of ranch hands had gathered.
Gyorgy Yabu opened the door and stuck out his hand.
“Jim Hatfield! How are ya, buddy? Come on in and set for a spell.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just turned and went back inside. He knew the Texas Ranger would follow. Jim did, quietly shutting the door behind him. He did not immediately sit.
“Siddown. Siddown,” Gyorgy gestured. “Don’t worry ’bout the dirt. The little woman’ll clean it up. There been dirtier’n you through this house.” Gyorgy chuckled. Jim sat. “What’ll it be? You must be mighty thirsty, ridin’ the range long as you been.”
“I’m working. Just water, thank you.”
“What it is, then!”
Gyorgy went to the bar and presently returned with drinks. Water for Jim, whiskey for himself.
“You’re a good ranger, Jim,” began Gyorgy. “The best.”
“That’s what people say,” replied Jim, not biting.
“You done everything you been asked to–and more sometimes.” Jim remained silent. “But this time I hear you was in derlixicon of your duty.”
“People say odd things. Others her how they want.”
“Selective blindness, eh?”
“Sorry, sir. I’ve never known anyone to see with his ears.”
Gyorgy laughed. “Oh, that’s a good one!” Gyorgy laughed some more.
Jim Hatfield was silent and still, all but his eyes, they were keen on Gyorgy, cutting him out of his surroundings, isolating the form of the man.
“How long you been a Texas Ranger, Jim?”
“Twenty years.”
“That’s a long time doin’ anything. I hear the pay ain’t so hot neither.”
“No, sir, it’s not. But being a public servant is what I like.”
“You ain’t no public servant, Jim Hatfield. You’re mine.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you, sir.”
“I support the Texas Rangers. I foot the bill. I own the Texas Rangers. It’s my private club.”
“As you own Chokepointe Piste?”
“And all of the country round about.”
“Except that you have to wall off the parts you don’t like. You don’t own them, sir.”
“I do. I wall ‘em off an’ all they can do is bitch about it. If they decide to fight back, the law’s on my side. So it’s treason.”
“You don’t own all the law, sir.”
“Why is that, Jim Hatfield? I pay your salary.”
“Not any more, Mr. Yabu.”
Jim Hatfield carefully unpinned his star and set it on the table between them. Jim Hatfield stood up. Jim Hatfield walked to the door.
“Where you goin’ boy?!”
“I’m not your boy, Mr. Yabu. And I’m going out to live my life.”
“You can’t do that. There’s a job to be done.”
“You’ll have to do it yourself. You’re not writing my story any more.” Jim Hatfield opened the door.
“And the legend dies,” mused Gyorgy.
“Legends never die, Mr. Yabu, and the bad guy always becomes a lesson on proper comportment.”
“What the hell are you on about?” asked Gyorgy to the closed door. “Clyde!” Clyde Moyen Bucket slid out of the kitchen. “You hear what that boy said to me? You see what that boy did to me? We gonna let him git away with it?”
“I’ll think of something.”
“Good. Meanwhile, contact that Ratso fella.”
“Roñoso Ratón. He’s on his way. But there’s a problem, sir.” As Gyorgy did not answer, Clyde continued. “He’s an illegal immigrant.”
“Not if I hire him, he ain’t.”
“But the people, sir–”
“I’ll fire him when the job’s done. Lied to me about his parentagion. Then he’ll be a damned foreigner taking good jobs away from Chokepointe Pisters. You git my drift?”
“We think alike, sir.”
“Let’s go fishin’. Problem solving is exhausting.”

But Yabu had other plans up his sleeve. . .