143 GATE

The Little Lion Man simply smiled and said, “Weeeeee-ill. You need help.”












I looked up into the fading colors of the darkening sky for a jet trail of an eastern-bound night flight that perhaps would not crash into the sea.





Poolside is always the best thing, and it is even better when you are with your best friends.





And yet, there is no substitution for the fresh, clean water of a river (named after your people) that runs from the holiest place on Earth, into a bay that is named after your people.




Into the ocean.







I got up out of the poolside-lounge chair because I was done lounging about, with this short but mighty lounge dancer.





Joey understood, good host that he was, and he followed me to the side gate. He stepped forward and unlocked it with his key. Katheena exited in front of me. Ladies first, hold the door open, be a gentleman. Always.





Joey held the iron gate open behind us with one hand and said, “Weeeee-ill. I cannot imagine what you are going through now. I wish I had been in that Jeep with you guys, so maybe I could understand better.”







I chust looked back at him and said, “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. No one deserves that shit we went through after it happened.”






Katheena opened her mouth to say something, but Joey interrupted her intentions. He said, “No. I should have been there. I should have followed you.”






Katheena looked up at me, waiting by my side.







They both were looking at me for some sort of answer, for some guidance, or even a fucking clue.






I had none of the above, so check the “D” on your multiple choice test answer sheet.




“Joseph, you might have been killed in that crash. Fuck it, we all should have died from that shit that night. Hell, some of us almost did. And there were some who did. I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t know much, but I have an idea.”






Little Lion Man said, “OK. Don’t forget this.”





He held out his other hand, palm down, and then he dropped the broken screw into my palm.





He said, “Ya know, I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth.”




I looked down at the tiniest piece of evidence of something that might possibly make a difference in such a world of fuck, and I felt like I had to tell him something.



Something, anything.




Nothing was not an option.




So I said, “I think you would. Perhaps you will.”





He had no words.





Sometimes, it speaks volumes when you don’t say anything at all.








I did not know to where this new path would lead, but I tell you something my friend:


I would not be alone in this quest any longer.




Perhaps you will follow me along as well?





The path will be ugly, but there is redemption at the end.














God Help You.



God Help Us All.



---willies out.













For you, from Dotta, here.














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