Search This Blog

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Queen Of The Desert Ch 6 Katheena Rides

Katheena hugged me, and even though I knew she was a ghost, her body felt quite hot and curvy on the bottom part.  

A certain consideration arose and it made a strong point.

Yeah, that was fucked up.







If I Had a Tail   by Q O T S A   





Hey, I could feel her body under the cloak she wore, and it reminded me of when we’d been together, and how she’d…


Katheena said, “Will!  What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I said, “It ain’t thinking here.”



She pushed me away, but she had her goofy, honest grin back. 

I composed myself.



Katheena pointed at them bastard punks and said, “Two of those guys are butt-naked over there.”


I looked at Tellesco pulling the angry punk rocker from the utility vehicle. 

I said, “Yeah, they been fist-fighting each other.”



She said, “That is one fucking odd way to fight.  What you boys been doing out here in the desert dunes anyways?”

I said, “Digging.”



Katheena shook her head and looked up into my eyes.  She said, “That really makes it sound bad, Will.”

I would have to agree.




But,




I was just a little bit taken aback by her.



Again…





 




Dreams I’ll Never See   by Molly Hatchet     






Hey, don’t look at me that way.  I didn’t write this: the story has.



She said, “I need my ride and that fat punk rocker needs his as well.”  She was talking about her lovely gold Firebird with the huge black decal on the hood that she’d named Orion.   http://williesthestories.blogspot.com/2011/09/katheena-truth.html







  I had re-named it Phoenix, you know.



I said, “Them cars?  They both dead!  One been drowned in a swimming pool and the other drowned in the desert,


…like you have been.” 




Damn.








She said, “Don’t you need your own car?”


I felt weak in the knees.

Matilda?





None of this was possible.  There would be way too much work involved in reclaiming all of those vehicles.  There was no time.  War Done Begun, according to The Glinty’s odd vernacular. 


I said, “Katheena, we ain’t got time to get them autos.”

She said, “Will.  You listen here now.  You never just charge ahead.  You will fail if you just run in to a fight, no matter how strong you feel at the moment.  You need your arms if you want to swim.”



I said, “We got to get that huge angry guy tied up first!  We can’t just tell him we sorry for burying him in the desert!  I already told him I was sorry for killing his fucking hearse.  He didn’t like that at all.”


She said, “I’ll go talk to him.”




You know, Katheena could enter a party, charm each person there, and then she would leave with all the cool people.


I climbed down from the top of Glinty’s hearse wagon using the old iron hand rails and then I waited for her to come down.  I would help her, guide her with my hands on her voluptuous back side…


I stepped down and looked up.  But she didn’t come down them rails.

She was gone.


I looked over at Mayhem and he was eyeing me.  He just snorted and swung his huge head at the utility truck.  He nodded at it.


I looked over at them young men by the utility truck and saw Katheena stalking towards them.


I felt cheated.   I know, ghost-butt in my hands?  Jeez.


I ran to catch up to her.  I didn’t want to be left behind.


What the hell was she gonna do?  Maybe she had something in mind.



Them boys didn’t see her  (they couldn’t, yet…) but that angry punk rocker sure did.  He quit wriggling against all them boys holding him down in the desert dust and looked up beyond them.



He saw her.


Well fuck all, mistah man, she went right on over there and them boys didn’t care a whip.  They saw me coming and just turned back to that Fat Jerry when they felt him give up his resolve.  He must have started quivering.  So they and held him down even harder. 


Then they saw his face.  He was frightened.


They looked back at me.  Was I scaring him?


I caught up to Katheena and she looked down at him.


She said, “Look at you lying there in the desert dust, all swaddled up like a big baby.  You make a woman want to cuddle you!  How old are you, you snuggly thing?”


Them young men released their hold and sat back in astonishment when they heard Fat Jerry say, “Awww.  It’s been a while since someone babied me.  I’m a thousand years old, nice momma.”



What the hell was going on?

Oh yeah, I remembered.  Fat Jerry could turn on a dime.




Evidently, lovely Katheena knew how to spin a dime.








(Can’t Get My) Head Into You   by The Offspring  












God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.























OK, Some More For Ya:



These are spoilers, so don't read.




The shack had once been somebody’s home.

Now it looked to be the sort of place where someone might have planted bodies in the dry desert dust, never hoping for them to rise, to be sown, or seen, again.







Glinty’s cabin was built atop a mass grave, as a testament, a monument in the desert.



There were tools inside the horse-stable that did not make much sense to anyone out here, but they were very important.




Katheena said, “you need to bring out the screw-top from your pocket.  From the broken latch.”


Always remember:

This is about the Power in the whole valley.  In this earlier chapter, Katheena’s ghost woke Joey up with a scream in his ear.  He was lying next to Patrick Till-Bury, and who was one of them Purple Robes.










You see, Patrick Till-Bury was an insider, loyal to them Purple Robes.  Would he convert?





Don’t forget about Sherry, who followed Kenny.





Don’t forget the little ghost girl, and don’t forget about Lorelei.

From here:













Photograph  by The Verve Pipe   .

Friday, December 13, 2013

Queen Of The Desert CH 5 ALL of US





This chapter is dedicated to a gang of punks who will play in Boston tonight.  Rock on, you magnificent bastards.  You are indeed invincible.







So, let's check out Katheena, cool with you?  She shined again, tahoo, amen










Invincible   by OK GO  







Katheena stood there with me atop the black hearse wagon in the icefall and said, “It’s not about you, and it’s not about me.”


I shook my head.  I said, “I dunno, but I feel like folks are all looking at us.  What about that?”


She growled at me.  I stepped back, and remembered that I was not on the ground.

I didn’t have any more back-steps left for me.


She said, “It’s not about them either.  It’s not us nor them.  It’s US.”



I looked down at the utility truck with them bastard punks all attending to the huge punk rocker with the purple mohawk.  He was freshly shot in the face from that Glinty asshole.

I recalled that his roots were actually red. 



I’d found out something about Katheena from Tommy Hewitt.




You know, the first time that the angry punk got shot in the face was at the end of the three day party at Tellesco’s house.




I considered Katheena’s important words and I studied the math.  I weighed options, and then I arrived at my best evaluation.











I said, “hah?”



She dropped her arms at her sides and began to laugh.


That was when them ice pellets stopped falling from the purple sky.


She came over to me as I shrank away from her.  I didn’t want to die.


She took my cringing fingers from my closed eyes---


I mean, she grabbed my powerful biceps and she said, “It’s about the mix of us all.  Blue and Red.  This is something that has been taken, and must be restored to us all.”



She pointed over to the utility truck, at them blasted punks who were loyal to each other to the end, and she said, “We need that big fucker as well.  And that ghost dude whom you call The Glinty.  We got some fighting and dying to do.  Well, most of us.”


I said, “Dying?”


She nodded and said, “All these men in this blue line have been undead for a hundred years or so. This is their opportunity to pass on.  They can complete.”

I said, “What’s this got to do with me?”



She said, “You can bring the red.”



I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about.


But ya know what?




I understood something.



I was not only along for the ride:  I had to sit with her in the driver’s seat.












Fuck.












God Help You.

God Help Us All.


---willies out.






She Builds Quick Machines   by Velvet Revolver  










.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Queen Of The Desert CH 4 Katheena ICE






Take Me Home   by QOTSA  




The long-dead cowboy-preacher lowered his shotgun and looked over to his burning cabin. 

He said, “What did you boys do to my home?!  It’s all busted to hell and burning to shit!”


Tellesco said, “We didn’t do that!  The storm did!  It was a lightning bolt!”


The Glinty hopped down from his hearse carriage and stalked over to us.  He looked up at the sky and as he did, so did we all.  Them clouds roiled like a pot of boiling sea water.


The steam had a purple tinge.


He said, “Looks like we been found out!  Gawd Dayam it.  Time to get a move on.  War done begun.  You boys tend to that there big vehicle.  NOW!”




War done begun, how about that.






W A R








D O N E








B E G U N









As them other damned punks attended to the huge crying baby in the white utility truck, I went right up to Glinty and looked him tight in the eye. 

Hell, he only had one eye, you know.


I said, “This all we got?  You and this horse and your hearse and that big truck and those guys running to it?!”


Glinty looked down at me.  Why did he always seem taller every time we spoke?


He turned his head and nodded back at the seat atop the wagon hearse, and then he looked back down at me.


He said, “We got her, and we got them.”


I looked behind him and saw the blue blade.


Ya know, it gave me the willies.  I now saw what others did not see.  The only one other than me who could see them ghosts was Tellesco, and that was only when he was weeping like a baby.


He could see them blue folks only when he had tears in his eyes.



When I’d taken a bump to the noggin in the baptized mansion, I must have got permanently fucked up in the head.

I could see them blue ghosts all day long whenever they appeared.


Even in the bright light of day.



But this was the darkest day.




A long blue line of ghosts stretched far from each side of the hearse wagon toward the ends of the desert valley.


I knew whom they must be.  They were them lost souls of the Sans Joking River Valley, and most of them had been dead for much over a hundred years and beyond. 


Some were newer dead.


Odd enough, many still sat atop their huge dead horses. 


What really put the frighteners on me was that each and every one of them had their head turned.


They were all and each looked right at me.


Some were without limbs; horse and man alike.


But there were their guns.


These they held pointed up toward the purple clouds, and they stood there, frozen like monuments to a distant time: a lost and forgotten era.


They were all silent. 


They sat still.



I gulped.



They were waiting for me to take action.



I looked up to seat of the wagon hearse at that sole figure sitting there, and I wanted to run away.


It was the moment of Trvth.


I knew that I had to go and talk to her.  I didn’t need that Glinty bastard to tell me to do it.


And that, my friend, scared me the worst.





Rrrrrrgh.



I hated that shit.



Rrrrrgh.




I hated it because, well



Rrrrrgh.






OK.





I pushed that Glinty fucker aside and went to her.



Glinty did not make a sound.



Rain began to fall.  All of them ghosts cowboys, aligned across hundreds of miles of the desert dust-


Dust?


Trust?


Justice?


Busted?




…Chust?




All of them watched what I was doing.


Rrrrrrrrrrrghhhhh.



I placed my boot onto the step and grabbed them old iron-wrought rails and pulled myself up.


I looked over at Her.


My Star.


It was my fault she died.






See you next time, for the


 Sorry.  You know me



Rrrrrgh.



OK.  Here we go.





I said, “Permission to come aboard.”


The dark figure looked over at me.


The air grew cold, and the falling rain turned to pellets of ice.


I made that growling sound I always did when I was about to do something that I really did not want to do.


“Rrrrrgh.”


I pulled myself up onto the top of the hearse wagon.


She said, “You growling at me?”




I shook my head.  




I said, “Katheena.”



She nodded.



I did not feel any better.



She said, “What you got to say to me?”




Time froze like them ice pellets falling from the sky.


I had to dig deep.


I wanted to tell her that I was sorry for what happened to her.  I had shown her the evil desert dust, and then I’d left her alone to go fight demons, and when she tried to chase us damned bastard punks, she ended up crashing her car trying to defend us.


I had found her, and carried her back to my stolen car, and when the Lion Man came back in his own stolen car and found us, I had left her with him.


If only I had taken her to that fucking hostible, not him, then it should have ended better.


A lonely traffic light, blinking in the eternity of space and desert dust:  the last remnant of humanity when all the world ends.



A testament to our path here on this tiny blue marble alone in the far reaches of our galaxy, one of many trillions…



Lost and alone


I gulped again.


I said, “I was the reason that you died.”





Katheena pulled her cowl back and stood up. 




She glared at me. 



She said, “Will.  You really need to lighten the fuck up.  This isn’t about you.”






Hah?



Wha?






God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.


 .




.

Friday, November 29, 2013

Queen Of The Desert CH 3 Katheena REBOOT







The Full Count (acoustic)  by Killing Moon 





Katheena had never been very good at planning anything at all. 

But she sure could make a presentation. 



The thin blue blade swept across the wide valley of the San Joking River and I swear, I felt the thunder of a thousand hooves in the ground.

The cabin behind us roared with lightning-struck fury and we damned punks witnessed fear that struck bone.


I looked back at my friends and they were chust standing there with their mouths agape.


Fat Jerry broke the hold of Tellesco and stood up.  He looked past me and his eyes opened wide. 


It was the herald to the End of Fuckno, like a blast from the trumpets of Heaven.


He said, “You dug me up for THIS?!”


He ran towards the big white truck as the blue blade arrived.  He climbed up into the driver seat and the cloud of dust blasted us from the huge black horse, held to a stop by his reins.


Mayhem had arrived.



Tahoo/Amen.



The Glinty held them reins taut in one hand, and his other hand clamped the hearse-wagon brake-handle.

The cloud of dust rained down on us.  Glinty stood up and dropped the reins.  He grabbed his shotgun and aimed it at the fat punk rocker in the utility truck.


Mayhem snorted dust from his snout and shook his head.  He whinnied and looked back at the old ghost-cowboy atop the wagon.


Glinty nodded towards us.


The huge horse whipped his head back to face us.  His wild mane of blue flames was a blinding sight to behold.  


The white truck started up its engine and The Glinty fired his shotgun through the missing windshield at the face of that punk rocker with the purple spikes.




From inside the cabin of the truck we heard a shriek.

“NO!  Birdshot?!  Again?!”


It seemed like new old times among bad friends.


I wiped the dust out of my eyes and regarded the small figure sitting next to The Glinty.

 
Nothing like a blast from the heavens to wake you the fuck up.

I could see her.


Katheena.



Did she betray me?



















Q U E E N


O F


T H E


D E S E R T






C H   3




KATHEENA


(R E B O O T)








Dayam.





Katheena had never been very good at planning anything at all. 

Of course, she could plan a hook-up, a meeting, a dinner, but never a party.


Such a thing takes constant and unerring commitment until it actually happens. It is a skill that can be both taught and learned, but it is not an inherent talent that comes along with the DNA of simply being borne.


Yup.



None of us hold all the keys, you know. 

We each have our weaknesses, and we each have our strengths. 

These may balance out if you pay close enough attention to all of them details, but the whole equation is known only at the end of one’s life. 


The best that you can do is attempt to put more plusses into your math and hope for the best against the negatives that occur along the way. 

That there, my friend, is known as Faith.






Seasons by Chris Cornell   






Katheena’s smile could brighten a room when she entered.  She never hung against a wall like a flower. 

Nope. 

She was rather like a shotgun.


When she left the room, all the lights dimmed and you were left with a feeling of wanting to follow her. 


Others would be right behind her, out the door.  Where was she headed next?  She was like a pied piper.


How could she enter a party, make a full sweep and charm each person with a few words and her goofy, honest grin and then leave with all the fun people?


You wanted to run to catch up to her, to follow her to the next place. 


Were you been left behind?


There was still time to join her, if you made quick steps.


Would you have stayed behind?

Would you follow?




God help you

God help us All

---willies out.












OK, One More For You:




It was Katheena that went missing from this tale. 

It was also me.


The tale will unfold as it wants to, but I guess it comes back to the Truth.

I want to follow her.


It’s just that…


Well,


It’s a different sort of scary for me.


I been fighting it.



I apologize to you Katheena for what happened to you.






Rrrrrrgh.




.

Friday, November 22, 2013

Queen Of The Desert Ch 2: Hope


Welcome back to this tale.  God Help You.









Modern Jesus  by Portugal The Man  






Katheeeeee-na was what The Little Lion Man Joey would call her…




She 



was





Well…


She had been my...





Star.




She was the One.









I lost her.









That, my friend, was my fault.
















QUEEN

OF

THE

DESERT




HOPE











An exploded cabin knocked us the fuck down.  It roared with vehemence.  We punk bastards needed to regroup. 



It was time to get the fuck out.



A mighty steed with blue flames for a mane sped towards us with a ghost hearse in tow, and I felt like I was gonna die. 



Fuck that shit. 



I shouted orders.


“Get that fat bastard up!  Put him in the back of the big truck and tie him down!  We getting out NOW!”


Time to go.

Gawdamn.


Tellesco squeezed his big arm around the throat of the giant punk until that bastard sunk back down.  He screamed at us.  It was rare to hear him sound like that. 


He said, “Get some rope!  No, wait, get some wires!”


I ran to the big truck and opened up a panel.  There were many panels, and this one did not have wire inside it.

The next one did not either, but there was a tool belt. 

In one of its pouches I found a pair of dikes.  That is a proper name for a large pair of pliers that are strong enough to cut large strands of wire, or ten-penny nails, or even wood screws, but it is easier to say, “A pair of dikes.”


I wrapped the tool belt about my waist and buckled it, and scrambled to the next panel.

I opened it and pulled it down to find long drawers full of  wire caps and fasteners and such and I knew I was getting close to the wire.


In the middle part of this side of the truck, I found several coils of wire, and pulled out some ten-gauge four, which simply means that it was very strong and also covered in plastic.

Didn’t want to hurt the big baby that Tellesco held down.


I ran from the truck and looked over my shoulder at the approaching front.

The blue blade across the horizon gleamed brighter in the dark light as it neared.

I remembered something.  




 The following words are from here:

http://williesthestories.blogspot.com/2013/05/tfw-ch-14-iron-mettle.html



He put his hat back on his head and said, “No, son, you done had them visions.  You seen things that are true.  You ain’t dreamt a thing.”



I shook my head.  I said, “I was lost in the desert.  I was buried up to my waist.  I was left behind.”


Glinty said, “That’s all up for grabs.  Only thing I know is this:  Them dream things are fears.  Consternations. Worriment.  That’s what the lady folk do to pass the time.  Now, Visions are another sort of thing.  You have to find the difference between the two, boy.  Ya see, we men, we fighters, well, we got to face them fears head on.”


That there, my friend, showed to me the chink in the armor of The Glinty.

I thought about two ladies.

One had died in the ocean, and one had died in the desert.

Both had come back.

One showed me the way.

And one had such anger that she could freeze a room when she walked in.


I thought that this old cowboy preacher should meet them.  It was obvious that he hadn't.


Maybe he would.







Well, it was obvious that he’d met at least one of them women.  


You see, that old cowboy preacher witnessed his weakness, and then he recognized it, and then he overcame it.




Perhaps I would need to do that as well.   

I would have to make amends to my anger at Tellesco.   


I would have to make peace with bailing on Katheena. 




Dayam was that a lot of work to do in a short time.



But it looked liked it was work that needed to be done.   


Ya know.



You should also know why The LGinty needed us to have to deal with that angry punk rocker.

 

Jerry hated the Glinty because they had different perspectives:





The punk rocker had a purple mohawk because he was a Purple Robe.


 

How fucked up was that?




(To Be Continued)




God Help You.

God Help Us All.


---willies out








It’s About Time   by Young The Giant  





.