170 Splashdown : : : Weekend At Willies TDC WEAW

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The music included in this chapter is essential to this part of the tale. These were found on youtube by my Lady. Thank you very much, Lisa.




B. B. King. Blues Boys Tune. Yup. The King’s sound on his Lady Lucille. man....






The black horse with the flaming blue mane crested the rim of the moon crater and sought the downward spiral trail into the crater to the floor below.


The ghost girl with the mane of blue fire that once stretched a hundred miles up into the night sky was helping the weakest member of our group.



Blues figure deeply. Here’s why:





A dream? A coma? What was it? Certainly, a coma or dream is not shared by another person at the same time.



Perhaps I was dreaming alone, and I was imagining that Sean was there too.



That was it.



Of course it was.



Well, in that case, onward to the moonshot, baby, and then let’s go check out Saturn, the coolest planet in the solar system, if you ask me.



Giddy Up, Yippee Kai-O, Get along little doggie, Let’s go.




--------------O----------------




Tellesco climbed into his own rocket ship and splashed down in the bucket seat. The cold rain water shriveled his balls up into his torso, and he jumped back up, charley horsing his thighs on the steering wheel.




“Boo Hoo!” He wiped his eyes, but they were beyond drying. If he’d been a chick wearing eye make-up, it would have been all washed away weeks ago on this night.




What a fucking awful night for him. He wanted to go and take a warm bath and play with his submarine. He wanted to slip into his footie jammies and snuggle in his huge bed with the down comforter and down pillows and Mr. Buns his floppy bunny and not wake up until he smelled bacon cooking.





Fuck this awful night. Nothing but a bad dream. What happened in the top floors of that mansion was a blur. It reminded him of other things that were also a blur, and that was all, nothing else, nothing left to see, move along folks.




He felt the hand on his shivering right bicep and he stopped his whimpering and looked down. She glowed with a bluish tint in the downpour. Her white hair seemed to float about her head like she was underwater. Her smile warmed his cockles. He wanted chust one kiss from her…




He looked at the headlights glowing from the side of the road to over here, where he stood in his Jeep.





Sean.



He had to go back for Sean.



Of course he did.




Etta James. I’d Rather Go Blind. Rest well, you lovely angel with the strong, beautiful voice.






Tellesco looked down at the pretty ghost girl and smiled at her. She slowly nodded and then looked back to the road, back to the car crashes. He really wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t want to, because he felt that if he did she would disappear. If he kissed her, he would wake up.




What if she woke up?




Maybe she was the dreamer, and he was only a figment of her dream?


What if she woke up, and everything, our tiny blue marble, her sister the moon, the angry, accusing sun, and all the planets (even Saturn?) they all dissipated and faded away into a forgotten dream?



That would suck.




The rain felt so friggin cold. How realistic, for a dream? How could a dream feel so real?



He decided, there and then, that he would not kiss her until after he became the Hero.



For once, he would be the Hero, and then afterwards, he would make a move on this beautiful apparition who sat below him in her own bucket seat.



She was strapped in for the ride. She would never leave her seat.



She would go to the depths of the ocean in her seat. She would sit in her seat until the ocean crumbled it into fine silt, there at the bottom of the sea.



The water currents would carry the particles across the globe.



The particles would wash up on shore, and mingle with the bits of shell, granite, and different colored glass from sunken cruise ships, drowned airliners that never made it to France or their passengers to Germany beyond, and broken beer bottles all eroded down to miniscule size from rubbing up against each other in their eternal night club dance to the beat of the ocean’s waves.





You know, all of the Earth's deserts were once oceans. Each of them was once the bottom of their sea.




Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, it's all the same thing.







Fuck it, he thought, after you are drenched to a certain point, you chust can’t get any wetter.



He splashed back down and buckled his own seat belt like a good boy. He ignited his rocket ship, and looked one last time into her eyes. For the first time this night, he chust wasn’t so sad anymore.





Chust don’t vant you to be ssso sad.


Huh.





But you should know that Lorelei’s ghost wasn’t leaving him any time soon.




Lucky bastard.



Little Walter and the Night Cats. Boom Boom. Out Go The Light







Fat Jerry snapped his knuckles in his fingerless gloves, (you knew he’d be wearing those friggin things) and he could not keep himself from grinning ear to ear.


Someone was coming to tea.


Except, he had to take care of the lumps.


Well, fuck the lumps. They were all snuggled in for a nice desert nap, and he could go and make some new friends. These ones would be quite bone- snappity snap snap fun to play with.


He looked back down at the lump in the car with the crushed roof.


His grin faded.


Fuck. Fuck it to hell. Shit. Fuck shit. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.


He sighed, his shoulders slumped, and then he swore softly as he bent back into the ride to drag the lump out and place him in the back of the hearse.


Shitfuck.



--------------O----------------



Sean steadied himself against the side of the ghost carriage. “Whoah. Almost slipped off the moon there!”


I looked over at him from the window. “Hah?”


He put a hand to the top of his head. “I don’t think I’m doing all that well. I feel…”



I went over and sat next to him on his own bench seat. “Let me check your head.”


He bent towards me, and I saw that the top of his head was sticky with matted hair and clotted blood. “Sean, you look like you took one hell of a hit to the top of your noggin. What the fuck happened to you?”



He slowly straightened back up. “I was playing chicken. Looks like I lost, huh. So, is this Heaven? Seems kind of fucked up if this is Heaven.”


I shrugged. “At least there ain’t no fires!”


He laughed and tried to keep his head steady. “Man. I think I should lie down for just a second…”



Something in the back of my mind told me to keep him awake. I didn’t know what was telling me that, but it seemed very important. Maybe I was remembering that when you had a concussion, you should not take a nice nap for a while.


You could slip into permanent unconsciousness.


A coma.


Of course, this was all a dream, and I was dreaming it. I could just let him take a nice nap, and that would be the end of it. Then I could step out and go play on the surface of the moon for a while. Go cave exploring or someshit.


The voice at the back of my mind screamed, “You Fucking Lump! Don’t Fucking Die on me!”


Then Sean slumped sideways, and he fell against the side of the carriage.






God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.







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