Weekend At Willies Ch Eleven Hard Pan

Them Shoes   by The Eagles 

The young man sitting in the passenger seat of the old hearse kept wiping his eyes.  There was nothing to see through the windshield.  The only thing that might be seen, if the fierce rain did not occlude our view, would be cactus and Joshua trees.

Those trees would hold up their arms in a shrug. “What?  What you want?”  Joshua trees might not have the answer for you, but maybe it isn’t time to tell you their truth.

I said, “Tellesco.  What the fuck is going on with you?”

He looked back at me with hollow eyes.  “I have no fucking clue.”

Or course.

That is the way we would end up.

With out a single clue.

Great.

Now what?

The rain coursing down from the unseen clouds overhead in the depths of the desert made it hard to see.  But Tellesco knew his way home.  He pointed at the street signs, and said, “The next one on the left is my street!”

I slowed down and turned off of the old, crumbly tar onto the dirt road.  The thing about a dirt road in the desert is that when it is an ancient river valley, well, the dirt goes down only so far.

The mud of a million years of being a river bottom will become packed into a solid, impenetrable, impermeable surface when it has become a high valley desert.  The inch or so of silt will make the tires slide if one is not careful, but the tires may not get mired in mud on a dirt road, if kept clear of the dust.

The dirt goes down only so far because the eons of mud have become cement, which is known as “Hard Pan.”   It is like iron.

Across the surface of the hard pan was the desert dust, and mixed with rain, it would be slick.

We would have to continue on at a slower pace.

We had to go home, and not end up in the fig tree orchards.

We passed the occasional driveway now and then as we traveled along the rainy lane, with the hint of a purple glow above the mountains off to the side, to the east.

Tellesco grabbed my arm and I almost spun the steering wheel.  I regained control.  “Don’t do that!” I said.

His eyes freaked me out,  They looked like crazy marbles.  Dude was scared.

He said, “Mr. Will!  I really don’t want to go any further!”

I slowed the heavy hearse to a stop and put her in park.  I said, “Do you want to get out here?”

He said, “We need to turn back.  I have a cousin who can help us out.”

I shrugged his grabby hands off of my leather and swung around to look directly into his eyes.  He was refracted from the light coming in through the windshield.  He looked like a ghost of his former self.  I said, “You ain’t got no cousin who can help us out.  You just afraid, that’s all.  Have you been back here since the fires?”

He shivered.  His white claws reached for my leather.  I let him grab hold of my arm. I said, “Ain’t you got no one else to help you?”

He closed his eyes to stop the tears.  “Sh.. Sh…Sh… Sean.”

Aw, Jeebus fucking shit. 

Looked like it was only me now.  Sean was gone. 

Fuckity fuck fuck.

Fuck.

I said, “Tellesco, Sean would want us to go forward.  You know it.”  It was a gamble, but it was all I had.

His grip on my arm eased, but then it tightened again.  He said, “Don’t talk about Sean like he’s dead!”

Damn.  I didn’t know if Sean was dead or alive, but I had a feeling that he was gone.  Yet, this would have been a bad thing for Tellesco to hear.  So I said, “Sean wants you to go back here.”

Tellesco wiped his eyes with the back of one white, clawed-up hand, and he said, “How do you know?”

I said, “Because Sean ain’t afraid of nothing.  And if you want to be his friend, then you gotta man up here.  You gotta stop being a pussy and fucking deal with this shit.  Tell me I’m wrong.”

Tellesco got mad.  “I ain’t no pussy!”  He threw my arm away and he folded his clawed-up hands across his bare chest. “I ain’t no fucking pussy.”

I pulled my leather on right, and put that old bitch back into gear.  “Then shut the fuck up and stop crying,” I said.  I felt bad saying that, but he needed to stop being a whiny bitch.

He looked out of the window at nothing, and stopped his sniveling. 

About damn time.

Of course, I had no idea why he had such a hard time with going back home, but I had a clue.

I just chose to ignore it.

I was an asshole, you see.

.

Weekend At Willies Chapter Six: Sibilance

Birds Of Paradise, by Rumspringa.

Dirty Boots London has the only full version of it in all the intertubes.

Right-click on this link if you would like to hear it in a new tab.

It'll auto-play once, but other songs will follow.

Joey found himself full of adrenaline. He had no ride, but he had game. This little lion man could untie any knot that presented itself to his face. He was an instigator, and that would always be his super-power.


He hid and waited for the hostibal constable to stop chasing him, and while he crept down low behind many locked and secured vehicles, he knew that one of them would hold the key to his escape. The fear of alarm held him back. There would be no way to test each door one at a time and risk the car becoming alarmed, and flashing its lights and honking like an angry or frightened goose.



But what if every one of them was alarmed? Being the little instigator that he was, he decided to alarm all of them.

At once.

And then, there would be one or two who stuck out in the crowd because their owner had not locked them up. Sometimes, folks who park in the emergency lot of a hostibal have other things on their minds.


Once all of the cars were alarmed, he would not have long before someone would take notice and come see what all of the ruckus was. So he would have to find a car that was unlocked, and then he would have to try to start it, and he would not have much time at all.


+ + + + + + +



The young man went back to his iron cot and sat down. It was going to be a long night. The hiss of a death rattle echoed over and over in his brain. That is what the last exhale of a dead person sounds like. He was not going to be able to get back to sleep.



In his mind, he heard the sibilance of soft whispering from the lips of someone who held his memory intact, and she was gone. He knew it. He felt it in his bones.



Katheena was a dead girl.


“…Bryan…”


He jumped up and swung around. Someone had whispered his name in his ear.




It sounded like her.





+ + + + + + +



“It seems that your friend has left you here alone.”



“My friend? Oh, yes, that naked Tellesco chap. Did he tell you to where he was headed?”





“Tellesco? Is that his name?”


“Yes, it is. He said that he is my best friend.”



“Well, I don’t know why someone would leave his best friend alone in a strange place to fend for himself when he was incapacitated.”




“Yes, this is a strange place, indeed. But I’m certain he will be back. I could see it in his eyes. He would never leave Sean alone without help. Are you going to help me?” Seen looked up into the nurse’s eyes.



She nodded. “Don’t you worry, we will help you. You are out of danger.”


Seen smiled at her. She seemed to be telling the truth. He was happy that he was there, in a brightly lit place, when for so long, it had been all a black hole, and he had been awaiting his freedom. He had things that needed to be done.

He would get them done.


He had his own agenda.



+ + + + + + +



Tellesco screamed at me in surprise as I yanked that heavy hearse door open, and then he said, “Mr. Will! I thought it was all over for me! What’s going on?!”



“Drive.” I slammed the door shut and looked him right in the eye. “Sean is getting help. Now you need to get this bitch right the fuck out of here.”


Tellesco’s lip began to tremble. “Leave Sean here alone? But he’s hurt!”



I would have grabbed him by the lapels if he had been wearing any clothes. “Sean is safe. Now fucking drive.”


Tellesco wiped his tears and he put that iron beast into gear. “Ok. If you say so.”


Best thing he could have said.



We were gone.



God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.

Weekend At Willies Chapter Five: Admissions

.

Problems. By Salmonella Dub.

“You lost him? Did you see where he went?”



“Yeah!” (Wheeze) “He ran into the parking structure.” (Cough cough) “He’s probably hiding on one of the levels.” (Wheeze)





“You Ok, Freddie? You gonna make it?”


“I’m Ok. (cough) I radioed the Police. They said they on the lookout (wheeze) for some stolen cars from that explosion up north. (Wheeze) That fancy sports car he brought the dead girl in looks like it might be one of them.” (Cough, wheeze.)






“Hell, he’s not hiding. That boy is gone, Freddie. Gone.”





+ + + + + + +





“What is your name?”



“My name is Sean now, evidently.”


“Excuse me? Sean Noffidently? How do you spell that?”






I leaned over Sean and looked into the Admissions nurse’s eyes. “He’s taken a bump on the noggin.”



She looked up into my eyes and said, “It’s quite evident. His head is bald and sooty with a big cut on top and he smells like burnt hair. He has dried blood all over his neck.”


I didn’t like her tone. She eyed me up and down, and noticed my right hand. It was covered with dried red paint. She said, “Did you do this to him?”



Her hand reached for the phone. I said, “No. I helped him. This is paint on my hand.”



Her hand came back from the phone and she turned back to Sean. “We will get your insurance information after you have been seen by the doctor.”



She looked back up at me. “Can you tell me his next of kin and their contact information?”






Oh.





I remembered the last time I’d met his folks in the hostibal, and it was all about Sean back then as well. It was not such a good visit.




“Yeah, I can give that info to you.” I looked over my shoulder to see if Tellesco was still out there. Gawdamn it, he was. He was idling there in the huge black hearse. I turned back to the nurse and saw that she was waiting with an impatient look in her eyes. So I told her what she needed to know.




She told me to “wait here” as she directed the orderly to wheel Sean over to the corridor down to one of the examination rooms.





I stood up, turned around and walked straight the fuck out of there.




My heart was racing along from the desert dust I’d inhaled moments before arriving to West Clovis Medical Center.



Tellesco was the naked chauffeur of the hearse.





+ + + + + + +



The dead girl had lived long enough to cause Joey to drive away from the car crashes that would have killed him. He drove her south to the nearest hostibal in Fuckno, trying to save her.


She had left us.


So had Sean.



But someone else had come back. He was a Walkin.




+ + + + + + +




Joey had driven the dead girl to the hostibal in a very expensive car and it was the car that was the connection to the explosions up north. This matters.




Here is a picture of such a car. It was a Maserati Bora, if you recall.










+ + + + + + + +




“Hello, this is Trish Tocker for KFUK TV’s “On The Scene,” and I am here at yet another great explosion up in the north side of our lovely city of Fuckno! We have a huge mansion that’s been drowned in the desert, and the explosions came from a parking garage that burned down and left millions of dollars of damage from the melted and exploded classic cars inside, except, get this: four are missing! Yes, there are four of these cars somewhere out there, driven by car thieves. So be on the lookout for these cars, and there will be pictures of them when our news program starts at 5 AM. Back to your regularly scheduled pre-paid program.”




Huh.



God Help You.



God Help Us All.



---willies out.










.

CHAPTER THREE: SEEN

.

















The young man driving the hearse swerved to avoid one of the last obstacles lying on the old, crumbly tar in the off-skirts of Fuckno, Califoreveryonebutme. It was a fat balloon tire, and it was the last remnant of the young man’s once-powerful Jeep. The tire looked similar to one that might have been on a Moon Rover, bouncing along the surface of our lovely satellite. She has waltzed with our blue marble for billions of years, and she will continue to guide us through the night until the angry sun explodes and devours us all.



When he swerved, I rolled over and fell against a damp, doughy body lying there. It had considerably more mass than me, and I scrambled away in horror.


“What The Fuck?!”


The young man up front hollered back in horror as well. “What?! What?!” He heard the frightened register in my voice, and it unnerved him to a great deal. You see, he was just barely hanging on to his own wits already. He was dancing along the brink of a black chasm of fear, and the only thing keeping him from falling into the hole was his intention to drive us to safety.


I screamed back at him. “You have a body back here!”



The body groaned. My skin crawled all over, and I felt a clammy hand on my knee. Fuck that. I clambered over into the front seat and spun around. In the back of the hearse, I could see nothing.


I could not hear anything but the rain punishing the roof.



And then a pale face rose up and a fat arm reached over to grab at me.



I reached for the door handle. Time up. Game over. Please insert another quarter to continue. No high score. I was gonna bail. Take my chances on the tar.


The young man at the wheel shouted at me. “Calm down! It’s Sean!”




Except one thing. It wasn’t Sean. Sean was gone. This was something new. We just didn’t know it yet.




+ + + + + + +


The young man in the expensive vehicle swung in to the Hostibal Emergency Lane and screeched the brakes to a halt in front of the automatic doors. He had come in the wrong way. A man in uniform ran out to meet him and opened the passenger-side door.

“Hello son, what is your emergency?”


Joey pointed at the limp figure in the passenger seat. “She been in a crash! She ain’t breathing now! She got mud in her lungs! Help her! Help her!”



“Calm down, son. Let me call this in.” He clicked the walkie-talkie mic on his lapel and shouted orders. Then he said, “Now hold on, does she have any broken bones?”



Joey shrugged. “I don’t know! My buddy put her in here! She AIN”T FUCKING BREATHING!”



A group of hospital folks came running out, one with a gurney. The man in uniform appraised them of the situation, and they got her out of the car in the exact position she was sitting in.



One checked her for a pulse and another put a face mask over her mouth and nose and slowly squeezed the big rubber ball attached to it, forcing air into her lungs.


Joey began to feel weak in the knees and he climbed back into the driver seat. He felt the world begin to spin, and his hands would not stop shaking.


Adrenaline had run its course. He had made it. But would she?


He passed out.




+ + + + + + +


The young driver at the wheel of the hearse pulled over to the side of the rode as I was opening the door to get the fuck out. The interior light came on.


He pulled me back in and turned back to Sean. “You Ok?”




Sean’s eyes rolled, and he felt his head. All of his hair was burned off. In its place was a matt of dried blood, and the scattered, dried remains of a poultice.

He said, “Never felt better.” He sat forward and looked at each of us in turn. “Where am I?”



I felt trembly from fear, but also relief. I could have giggled like a schoolgirl from my delirium. So I did.


Sean looked at me, and then back at the young man. “What’s going on with him?”



The young man smiled. “He made it, and so did you. I saved you both. I said I would, and I did. I’m so happy to see you are alive, Sean.” He looked like he wanted to give Sean a man-hug.



Sean smiled back. “Sean, huh? Yes, it’s good to be alive. What’s your name?”



The young man stopped smiling. “I’m Tellesco. Don’t you remember me? I’m your best friend!”


Sean grinned. “Best friend. Nice. Thank you for saving me. I think I took a bit of a bump on the noggin. Please forgive me while I get my bearings.”




I shivered, and not from the rain dumping in on me through the open door beside me.


Something about his way of speaking had changed.


Something about his mannerisms wasn’t the same.


Something was quite different here.


I had the willies, and it would not go away.


Ever.






There sat another young man awake in the night, with his legs draped over the edge of his metal bed, and his bare feet pressed firmly upon the slick, cold concrete. His walls were also made of the same material, and upon them were taped letters and photos of his friends. There were none of,


nor from


his family.




He looked into his interlaced fingers, as he sat with his elbows propped upon his knees.



He recalled his nightmare.







(A dark figure staggered down a hallway, with the sound of jangling keys falling from a kitchen table echoing again and again.)




This was a memory that wasn’t his own.




(The dark figure reached the last bedroom on its left.)





The young man furrowed his brow as he sought for a meaning. He got up and went to the bars in front of the skinny window that was set deep in the concrete.





(The dark figure reached for the doorknob, turned it, and pushed. The hinges squeaked loud and then they stopped, and the dark figure muttered swear words.)





The young man would be getting out of jail in a couple of days. Good Behavior. But what awaited him? What had been going on all this time in the real world?





(The door opened quite slowly this time, and the squeak of the hinges became a low growl of metal pain, in resistance to their movement. Something bad was about to happen.)






The young man looked out through the streams and blur of a powerful desert storm pelting the bullet-proof glass before him. The lights of the city of Fuckno gleamed in their blur and made him want to repaint them. He wanted to fix them. He was a fixer, and while he had the urge, he did not yet know that he was capable of such an ability.





The world had changed.




Something bad was going to happen.





He wished he could get out tonight.




He wondered whose memories these were, and why he was dreaming them.




He had an idea.






His time in prison was not wasted. He had cleaned up, you see. He saw the world for what it is. It is a watercolor painting, and because such a medium is vulnerable to change, it is possible to repaint your direction.





People do not change. No one suddenly becomes the hero, saves the world, and lives happily ever after.




But there is something else.




There is the ability that resides deep within each of us to recognize and control our animal impulses. It becomes a life-long battle, but each battle can be won, each time.


It simply takes great effort, a great determination to do such a thing.


Such a pursuit to change your path takes digging deep, and unearthing one's inner strength.



This is called Mettle.







God Help You.


God Help Us All.


---willies out.








.

Chapter One

The huge black horse with the mane of blue flames galloped into a cave on the moon.

Black and blue.

Red and white.

Moon dust and desert rain.


+ + + + + +


The naked young man put the hearse into gear and pressed the petal to the mettle.


Lights from behind grew brighter, and he shivered. They were coming for him. He felt it in his bones. He was borne out of the muck anew, and was baptized by the tears of the night sky.

The funeral vehicle spun its rear wheels on the slick tar, searching for traction under the massive weight and he eased up on the accelerator. This was not like his powerful Jeep with the balloon tires. Those chunky treads would have carried him forward, fast.

His Jeep now laid scattered in pieces and strange twists of metal all about the desert before him. It had come apart at the seams.

His practice of patience paid off. The huge black beast lurched forward, finally, and picked up speed and momentum. He re-adjusted his driving ability according to the ride. No fast, tight corners for this old crate. That thing would go in a straight line and resist any change in its direction because of its mass.


He lurched her left, then right, and navigated around strewn parts of the once mighty Jeep. Large tires, an engine block, a twisted chassis: these are heavy things that are not good to encounter when you are traveling at a high rate of speed.


When you do not know that they lie ahead in the pouring rain, they can be quite dangerous.


The headlights from behind grew brighter as they neared.


They were traveling very fast.


+ + + + + +


I woke up screaming. Tellesco screamed from where he sat, naked in the driver’s seat up front. Together, we made a chorus from Hell.


I did not know where I was. All was black, and I heard his screams, and it frightened the fuck out of me, so I kept screaming in horror.


I felt like I was in a coffin at the bottom of the sea. The depth of black all around me felt heavy and thick. I could feel the darkness touching my face. Its depth and breadth spread off into eternity like a bottomless pit. I was falling from the Earth through space and I had no stars to guide me.


Then I slid forward as Tellesco stomped on the brakes and he shouted, “Stop Screaming!”


Ah.


A familiar voice from out of the depths of the chasm, the void.


He opened his door to come around to the side and when he did, the interior light gleamed. I saw that I was in the back of a hearse. Black velvet lining on every surface. I rose up on my elbows and saw lights through the rear window. They were glowing brighter with each beat of my heart.


They were coming quite fast.


Tellesco opened up the side door and yelled at me. “What the hell is going on?!”


I yelled back, “I have no fucking clue!”


I looked down and raised my eyebrows. “Where are your clothes?”


Tellesco looked down as well, and then he slammed the door shut.


He climbed back into the driver’s seat and faced me from behind the front bench seat. “I lost my clothes when I crashed.”


Indeed, it was making less sense the more we went forward.


I pointed at the lights shining through the rear window. “Who are those people coming?”


Tellesco shrugged. Great. No one had a fucking clue.


What would you have done?



Well, I’ll tell you about it, and you won’t have to wait until next weekend.



God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.



.

176 The Mettle Of Tellesco TDC WEAW Weekend At Willies

.





Feist. My Man, My Moon. Grizzly Remix.






I turned the knob and yanked that cabin door open.




The stars awaited. How odd to see the sun as it set in a black sky, while the stars gleamed without twinkling. It looked like them stars were trying to stare me down hard.


There were no clouds catching fire with orange and red as the sun set. Black sky, no blue.



The blue sky shields you from having to deal with how small and insignificant we are as we make our way through the day.


Eternity is spread out all the time overhead, but the blue sky hides it.



Infinity is a hard donut with your morning coffee or tea.



A blue shield blankets over our maze, as we scurry along looking for the cheese.




I strode out of that damn cabin and went to explore the moon. Why the hell not? Gonna die anyway. Might as well go where no one had gone before.



I scrunched down and then leaped forward as strong as I could.



I flew, baby, I fucking flew. There was no air so I did not have to flap my arms.


I arced over the surface of the waxing gibbous and looked below at the sharp shadows that indicated each rock, crater, and cave. What was inside those caves?



I wondered how much strength it would take to leap from the moon and then land on Saturn.



Only thing was, I could not make out where Saturn twirled in her pastel evening gown of stormy clouds and her hundred golden rings.



I couldn’t see any of the planets except for our own, and she was very big. The only other thing I could make out was our sun. He was not so near, but he was friggin hot as hell as he glared at me.


Talk about a temper.




The lunar surface loomed closer and I braced my knees for impact. I was headed for a crash.



+ + + + + + +



Tellesco saw those lights loom closer and he did not know what the fuck. He did not know that Fat Jerry was staring him down. There would never be anyone else like that punk bastard in our tiny realm, nor did there ever really need to be.



He simply existed like the planet Pluto, with her own moon Charon almost the same size, dancing in an eternal waltz together, way out where no one would ever suspect, hiding among the big chunks of broken stars, until it was time for that punk bastard to intrude and cause mayhem and disaster.


He enjoyed himself at the detriment to anyone else at all.



Fat Jerry didn’t know who was coming toward him, but he figured his odds were quite good at surviving a game of chicken with the poor fool who stood in his way.



He was supposed to be leaving the car crashes because he had bills to pay. A hearse such as his own was built like an ingot of iron, forged in the fires of the sun.



Tellesco would not have a chance.



Fat Jerry hated me for having to leave the party behind him early, but this new set of headlights before him was quite inviting, and he would not pass up this opportunity to dance with them lights.



= = = = = = =



Little Lion Man looked over at Katheena. She had stopped coughing, and she looked like she was feeling a bit blue.



He slammed down on the brakes and the Maserati Bora screeched long and loud in her disappointment.




He jumped out and ran around to her door, opened it, and pulled her up to him, close.



He tilted her head back and felt for a pulse in the side of her neck,




...my star.




He clamped his eyes shut hard as if that would make his fingertips feel any better at all.




Nothing.




He pulled her leather away from her chest and pressed his ear down on her tit and he stopped breathing like she was doing at that time.






There it was.




Her heart was still beating.





It was a soft, tiny flutter.




He pinched her nose closed and opened her jaw up wide, and then he kissed her deep.




He gave her the kiss of life.





He filled her lungs with air.





God Bless Him.









Strange Behaviour featuring Tasha Baxter, by Feed Me.








I landed and rolled in the desert dust of the moon. It was not as hard a landing as I thought it would be. I weighed only a sixth of my weight there on the moon, if you recall.




I took in a deep breath, and then I stretched out and yawned really big. My body tingled.



The dust slowly settled all over me, and I felt drowsy and snuggly as I nestled and drifted off.



I had taken a dose of “Fuckitall” and was going to take a nice desert nap.



Then the ground shook.




I looked up.



An angry cowboy preacher glared down at me with his one eye, and he grabbed my left boot with his right hand. He pulled me up by that lone Doc Marten, swung me around and around again, and then he let me go.



I was flying again, tumbling head over arse. This is not a very graceful manner in which to fly, and I do not recommend it for you.



You probably know to where he had flung me.


Well I did too.




Bastard.



- - - - - - -



Tellesco looked down at the seat beside him as the headlights in front of him grew brighter. His new girlfriend was not there to guide him.


He did not have Sean to help him out of a jam either.


He looked back up at the lights and felt lost, like he was off on the moon or something.



He only thought of the promise he’d made to Sean, his savior, earlier. It was the only time Sean had made him promise such a thing.


Sean had made Tellesco promise to come save him.


Tellesco understood what it meant. Now he was the savior.


It was up to him to come back after the damage happened, and collect Sean and take him to the hostibal.


He would not let Sean down.


No matter what.


In this combination of fear and determination, he found his mettle.


Mettle can be found in you when you do something that is the right thing to do, even if it means personal danger. It could mean that you will lose every thing. You could lose your life.


Tellesco made such a decision.



Good for him.


Bad for him?



Huh, we will see.







But he did it.





He said YES to whatever awaited, and he hoped for the best.






YES, and thank you.





He hoped for the best.





Taho, Amen.












God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.







.

169 Float : : : Weekend At Willies TDC WEAW

.



The Kills. Night Train.








“Willies. I don’t think we’re in Fuckno anymore.”


Sean sat across from me in the flickering blue light and shook his head. Then we hit a bump. He reached over and pulled the black drapes aside and looked out.


“Willies Boy, you gotta check this shit out.”




I slid across the leather seat and pulled back the black drapes so I could see. The stars touched the ground. There was no moon out. Nothing was there. Chust the ground and the stars. There were no cacti, no sage brush, no tumbleweeds, no flora at all.


“We in the Mohave?” Sean’s eyes were bug big.




I shook my head. “No, man. Even Death Valley has some shit out there. There’s nothing here.”



I looked off into the distance and saw a mountain range that we were heading toward. It looked like we were traveling very fast, because it loomed up higher at a quick rate.




Looking at the ground revealed that we were not speeding much faster than thirty miles per hour or so. This was odd. Then we were riding up higher on the side of the mountain, and when we got to the top, it was a rim.




The black carriage swung left and next thing you know, we were traveling along the rim of a circular canyon.




I went to the other window and yanked them drapes back. Off in the distance, the sun blasted my eyes like the shriek from an electric guitar.




But there was no blue sky? The stars gleamed all around the sun, against the black eternity of space.




I went back to the other window and saw our shadow on the bottom of the canyon, riding atop the rim’s own shadow. In the center of the canyon’s floor was a round pile of debris.




It was a crater.




We were riding on the rim of a crater.





+ + + + + + + + + + + + + +




Tellesco pulled his Birkenstock sandal out of the muck and decided to take the other one off as well. He headed off to where the headlights shined, towards his powerful 4X4 Jeep with the fat balloon tires that had big chunks for tread.




His date led him along, and he carried his sandals in the other hand. The keys to his ride jangled against his lower belly, tied to the drawstring dangling inside his shorts.




The rain poured down into his eyes, and he had to keep wiping his eyes so he could see. After a bit, he chust closed them, and followed the tug of the ghost girl. This is known as blind trust.



+ + + + + + + + + + + + +




Fat Jerry straightened up in the rain and cocked his ear. He could feel it, but not quite hear it. That was good enough for him. Someone was coming, and he could go meet them and have a spot of tea and some crumpets with them.



But first, he had a bleeding lump in this crushed car to retrieve, and then he would return to the other lump he’d left behind up the road a piece. Since he was now certain that neither lump was bleeding to death on the outside, he simply needed to collect us.



The Kills. URA Fever









“Willie Boy, where the fuck are we heading?”



I pulled the drape back. It was overwhelming to me. It was too much to see. My head was full. The stars were right there. The edge of the moon was a hundred yards away, and you could fall off if you weren’t careful.




“Uh, Sean, we on the fucking moon.”


Sean nodded. “Yup. Kinda figured.”









God Help You.


God Help Us All.




---willies out.






.

168 Talisman : : : Weekend At Willies TDC WEAW

.








Razorblade, by The Knux.








The fat punk rocker pulled himself out of the sleek hearse with one meaty hand on the edge of the long door. He closed his eyes and smiled big into the rain lashing down with thundering applause.



His smile held a thousand fangs.



He howled.




Then he giggled. He was looking at the headlights all pointing off into various directions. Some stared into the sky. Those looked like the bright light from the top of the Luxor, the pyramid of Las Vegas, which can be seen from space.



The rain outlined their beams of photons jetting off relentlessly at the speed of light, into the stars above. But these were refracted and they never made it.




Other headlights were cross-eyed. Another one was a lone headlight, staring glumly into the desert mud of Fuckno.




He really wanted to go to the other headlights to have some of his own brand of fun, but he had eyes for only the ’57. He restrained himself from pleasure to take care of business.




He slogged through the desert mud in his boots with the chrome shin guards, and when he got to the ’57, he grabbed on the door handle, clicked the button, and yarded on it.



The handle busted out in his hand. He stopped grinning and looked down into his palm. He pocketed the chrome handle and looked back at the car.




Crows collect shiny things along the highway. You thought it was all road kill. Some things are talisman. They become talisman when they mark a certain occasion, or an event in time. They record our human condition, when the occasion holds a strong emotion in a life-changing event. A chrome door handle, a broken screw from the latch-lock of a missing horse stable, or even a…



…I apologize to you for getting off track here.




Fat Jerry saw the wrinkle in the door where it met the front fender. This door was wedded to the rest of the car, all made from woodstove metal. He bent and peered in and saw a dark shape leaned over the passenger seat.




He leaned in and poked its shoulder. “Hey! Wake up!”

No response.




“Hey! WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

Nothing.




In any other case, he would have simply grabbed on the lump and yanked it out of the car and then proceeded to bust its bones, but he restrained himself. He reached into his leather jacket and brought out a lighter, and flicked its shiny top open.


He spun its wheel, and there was light.


He shined it around the face and noted a large, bleeding welt on the forehead. But no blood came from the nose, lips, eyelids or ear. This was a good sign.



He cast the wan light about the rest of the figure and didn’t see anything poking or jutting out, covered in meat or blood, and that was good too. He had seen the movie “The Other Side Of The Mountain, so he knew about the danger of moving an injured person and by doing so causing them to become paralyzed for life.



But that was where his medical expertise ended.


What the hell was he going to do?



He thought about the other car that got away, and wondered how long it would be before some other folks, angry people, would be showing up.



He knew that he had to go and collect another lump, in another car, and wondered if that one was in need of more immediate attention.




This was all knew data, new ground for him to cover.



Why the hell did he even care?








One For The Road, by Leslie West, with Slash. Get ready to have your head kicked in. Best wishes for good health Mr. West.









Tellesco smiled at the watery figure in the seat beside him as he slowed the car to a crawl. The desert looked much different on such a dark and stormy night, even though he had traversed this crumbly old lane many times before.



The shade of the beautiful girl pointed off to his left.



Tellesco looked out, and he didn’t see anything, but he nodded anyway. He pulled over to the side of the road and pointed the car into the direction she had indicated. He jumped out to open the door for his date, but she was gone.



His bottom lip quivered, but then he felt her tug on his other arm, to lead him off to his Jeep.



He smiled again.




Jeez.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -



It wasn’t all that much further down the road to drive. The car’s roof was all smashed in, and it laid just beyond another one which was upside down, with its headlamps all cross-eyed. He resisted the strong urge to go off to that one and have some bone-snapping fun.



Instead, he went to this one’s passenger side, which was less dented-in, and he looked inside.



This car’s single headlamp did not offer much by way of light in the cloud of splashing rain, so he brought out the lighter again.



He bent inside, flicked it open, and was just about to ignite it when his chubby nose caught the scent of gasoline fumes.



Well, ok then. Instead of flicking it anyway as he done before to an unlucky soul, he pocketed his light in his leather and dried his rained-drenched hands on the lump’s clothing. He closed his eyes and felt around for broken bones.



Broken bones were his favorite, but all he felt was broken glass.



Then he felt the top of the lump’s head. It was sticky wet, not wet from the rain entering through the busted out windshield.



This lump needed some attention.


The skin under his leather creeped.


Someone was coming. He straightened out of the vehicle. He began to smile again. He couldn’t help himself.




= = = = = = = = = = = = =






“Sean! What the fuck dude?”


“Willie Boy! Where is Tellesco?”




“Last I seen him, he was with you. You lost him?”


“No! I mean, …I wouldn’t do that! I mean… Wait, he was facing the other way.”





“The other way from what?”

“From me. From me heading back to you. I was driving back to you to save you.”





“Sean, you trying to save me?”


“I mean, help you . Help you and Joey out. Where is Joey?”





“Joey? He is, ah… Hey, Joey is driving away with Katheena!”


“Katheena? He’s with Katheena? Dayam dude, what else did I miss?”





“Shit. It’s coming back to me. Katheena died!”


“Uh, wha?! Willie Boy, you need to start at the beginning!”





“I wish I knew. Where the fuck are we anyway?”





There was nothing.




Nothing at all.










God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.






.

167 Mayhem

.






For Tellesco. I Got a Girl. By Tripping Daisy.




Tellesco drove away with his dead girlfriend.


Yeah,


He had a girl.



How cool was that for him?





And you thought he was in love with Sean.



Well, you would be correct on that point. But it was more like adoration. Nothing sexual. You see, he and Sean had connected in a way that many of us will never know.


When you have gone through some serious shit, and you don’t think that anyone else on this tiny blue marble has never been through it,

Well,


When you discover that you are not alone in the vast eternity of space, it kinda has an effect on you.


You become a soul mate, of sorts.


Enough said on that.




Myself, I had a blood brother and sister, and I was blood brother to the Sans Joking desert river valley due to the Figging Crash.


My two blood relatives sped to the closest Hostibal, which meant I was all alone out on the off-skirts of North Fuckno.


Except for the fat punk in his hearse, and a ghost cowboy, of which I had no clue.



I was heading towards mayhem and doom.





I found my mettle, and it was ugly.




Damn.




+ + + + + + + + + + + + + +





Fat Jerry was heading for a crash.


Black Keys. Stop Stop. This is loud, so turn down your volume, my friend. Or, do like I am, and turn it right the fuck up.





The rain strummed along on his windshield like a guitar out of tune. Fat Jerry gassed his carburetor again, and he smashed into the ass end of the car on the right.


It swerved and caught its traction again, and then its brake lights flashed bright.


Jerry punched his ass again and swung left.

The car spun around and hit some dirt. And then it flipped. The young man inside was not smart enough to have strapped in with his seatbelt, and so his head and upper half flung itself through the driver’s side window, and he felt the impact of the roof in the desert dunes, upon his top parts, as it rolled over and over again.


Dude would not be waking up ever again.


Always wear your seat belt.



Fat Jerry giggled like a creepy baby, and then he tickled the fun button below his steering wheel, and the nitrous oxide pulsed again into his engine.


His hearse jetted forward again towards the other car.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



Sean watched the headlights in front of him grow brighter. Behind them he saw a blue flame whipping wildly in the black hole of the night.


It entered the small slot between the pair of cars ahead, and then an explosion of blue gun fire caught the one on the left with shock and awe.

The driver swerved and spun around on the slick, crumbly tar. He disappeared from view.


He was the one who got away. He went back to the other purple robes and told his story.





The other car kept right on speeding towards Sean.


They would meet, shake hands, and go have a drink at The Dunes.




Yeah. Right.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -




I saw the one of the cars racing towards me spin around and then flip and tumble, and a new set of headlamps took its place.


I don’t know why, but I aimed the old ’57 towards the pair on the left. Fuck the new set of lights that had appeared.



That set of lights swerved into the other one, which swung off to the left when I slammed into its driver’s side.


T-boned that fucker.


We’d been playing chicken, but now it didn’t matter anymore.




Smash,



Crash,




Sleep.




Gone and out for the count.




Sorry about that.





Fail.




- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



Sean smashed into the other car head on, and it flipped up and over his own ride. He kept steering even though his windshield was gone, baby, gone, and he had glass and blood in his mouth. He was chuggin on his new set of false teeth as he went into the desert dust for a nice, wet nap. His roof was caved in on his head, but he was slumped over as his car came to rest.

He had worn his seat belt.


Always wear your seat belt when you play chicken.


Chust sayin’








God Help You.



God Help Us All





---tdcwillies out.










.

Weekend At Willies, TDC WEAW, williesthestories 166

.






My own Flickerstick: The Jefferson. Days Are Falling.







Here is some "exposition" to catch you up. It will make your head spin, and I apologize to you for that.

Of course, you could simply read the previous chapters instead, but who wants to do that?




Sean and I were the only ones left in the equation, and we faced each other, with eight cars between us, plus a black hearse, and also a horse drawn wagon, with an old cowboy ghost as a driver.

We chust didn’t know about that shit yet.




Two cars faced opposite directions from us on either end of this stretch of old, crumbly tar, up on the north end of Fuckno. One had a dying girl as a passenger, and the other one had a dead girl as a passenger.



Only four of the eight cars driven by those purple robes were still on the road.




Two were heading for Sean and Tellesco, and two were heading for me.


And I was driving toward them in a car from decades ago, built of solid metal, like a woodstove. 1957 Chevy. She was a collector’s edition, before they called them that.



My buddy Joey had stolen her, but now he was taking the dying girl to the “hostibal” in my own stolen car, and I was going to play chicken with assholes who were fucking shit up, with this old car I drove that could not be stopped.



Great. This was going to hurt.



Now, Sean was on the other end of this shit, and he saw those headlights coming up. More of those assholes. He looked over at his buddy Tellesco, from his own driver's window through Tellesco's driver-side window. These were my friends, and they were also in stolen cars. We had taken all four of them from the garage way down south of this line of trouble.


Tellesco didn’t have the balls to play chicken, so he sat in his car, facing the opposite direction of Sean. He was going to bail.


This was OK with Sean. He’d prefer to have his buddy Tellesco survive, and come back after shit had happened to take us all to the “hostibal.”



Sean gritted his teeth, waved at Tellesco, and then he sped off to meet his doom.


Tellesco waved back, oblivious fool that he was, and he put his car into drive. He looked into the passenger seat next to the smashed-out passenger-side window. The rain poured in, which had opened a portal of sorts.


It was a portal of water, for a watery ghost to enter.


The dead girl still sat there: a shade, a shadow, a glint of a glimpse of someone who had died months ago. A ghost. She smiled back at him.




Weird.






This would not end well.




+ + + + + + + + + +




In between the two pairs of assholes speeding in opposite directions from each other; one pair toward me on one end of this long stretch of old, crumbly tar in the desert of Fuckno, and the other pair toward Sean on the other end, there were two curious-looking vehicles also racing along.




One was a long, sleek hearse with a fat punk rocker who had a mohawk of high, sharp, purple spikes and a smile on his pale face that held a thousand fangs. Fat Jerry was his name, and he enjoyed causing pain.




Speeding in the other direction was a black carriage driven by an old, forgotten cowboy ghost who sat up high in the rain, holding the reins to a huge black horse with a mane of blue flames.



Glinty McFlintlock strung the reins in one hand and then he hefted up his old shotgun, and he took aim.



This giant horse, dark as an invisible black hole, well, he knew what was about to happen.




His horseshoes clicked blue sparks on the tar as they raced along to doom and damnation.





The name of this giant black horse was Mayhem.











Are you still with me?





It gets worse before it gets better. It gets fucking worse.







Ok, enough description and exposition.






Here we go.



Massive Attack. Paradise Circus, with Hope Sandoval on lyrics. You know, she is the Mazzy Star vocalist. Her vocals are fucking sexy. She got that silky Texas drawl. You can thank youtube's DamselBoo for putting up this high quality sound on youtube from a great duo that we know as the Massive Attack.


"It's unfortunate that when we feel a stone, we can roll our selves over because we're uncomfortable.


Or,


Where:


The Devil makes us sin.


But we like it when we're spinning...



...in his grip.



Look at her, with her eyes like a flame...




She will love you like if I never loved you ...




...Again"



I wish I could write that well.


Uhhh...Huh.....













I adjusted my tie. My leather jacket squeaked against the cold, hard vinyl seat as I straightened up and looked past the windshield into the black hole that awaited me.



Up ahead, a pair of yellow eyes glared at me, blurred, then glared, blurred, and glared, between the brush strokes of the windshield wipers.


A watercolor painting in the black torrent of tears from the hidden moon above, it was being re-painted with each beat of my heart.



I didn't want to die. I feared death, or course.



But those assholes had injured the girl in the car Joey drove now, racing away to safety.


Fuck them.


I felt blind rage.



Fuck them to hell.


The pair of eyes glaring at me from up ahead split apart, and became a new pair of eyes, each.



Blur, glare.


Blur, glare.



Two cars sped towards me.



My pulse raced.



I gripped the hard steering wheel and braced for impact.



I wondered if my teeth would meet this steering wheel. The seat belt held my waist, below my leather jacket, but not my torso.



Air bags had not been invented when this car was built.



Possibly, the steering column would enter my torso before I met the metal dashboard.



Who had built this metal stove; Hephaestus in his fiery hell of a blacksmiths shop?


Perhaps I would meet him there, and we could share stories about our Venus stars.


Mine was named Katheena. She had a lung full of muddy water.



Fucking assholes.



Fuck them.




Blur, glare.



Blur, glare.


Crash.



Sleep.





- - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Sean, gobless him, he pulled himself close to the steering wheel and glared into the windshield.


He did not have fear of death. He had lost it long ago.



In his head, he wanted escape. Fuck this place. Nothing but lying, cheating, and stealing. Those were the colors on his palette. Mix them up, and you would not get grey.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - -




Fat Jerry reached down and turned the volume up. The Misfits wailed in the empty carcass of his hearse. No other music was ever heard in his ride. He had their skull spray painted on the back of his leather, and on the hood of his car.



He floored the accelerator and his heavy beast blasted along with hunger in its belly. He saw those tail lights come closer, and that was when he flicked the tiny metal switch beneath the steering wheel, in its hole.

A strange gas entered the carburetor, and this caused the huge beast to surge forward and throw Fat Jerry's mighty melon back.


He howled with laughter and looked back ahead again. It was like light speed.


Nitrous Oxide, baby.



- - - - - - - - - - - - -




The horse glinted its sparks onto the old tar in the downpour. Its driver wore a pair of round glasses with black lenses, and one was broken down the middle, where the bullet had smashed it, and entered his brain, killing him a century ago.


He had his own anger as fuel, and this will be explored after the demolition that was about to ensue.





Next time.





Sorry about that, my friend.









God Help You.



God Help Us All.



---willies out.








Check this out:






NSFW dubstep video of the Massive Attack song above.

Ode 2011 Ver2 NSFW from grayagent on Vimeo.

It's from The Lucid Dreams of Grayagent. Grays Provocation. Thank you, Grayagent. Keep up your good work.






.






















.

165 The Return

.



For Tellesco. He had fallen in love with a dead girl. And he was the only one who would ever see her again. He had never been kissed. For whatever reasons. Ya know.


Volta. Never Been Kissed.






Tellesco watched Sean look at the abyss, and he shivered. It was cold in the car. He looked down at his hands in his lap. The rain poured down into his car, through the window Sean had smashed open minutes before with his big fists.



He wanted to follow Sean, but he chust couldn’t.



No, you must not fault Tellesco here for his cowardice. It would take quite a lot for this young man to finally find his own mettle. But when he did, he would become a force of nature.




You see, he felt a presence in the car.




Through the open window, the crashing rain opened a portal of sorts.




His eyes stung with salt water, as he sat, looking at his arm that had, for a few hours after the Figgin Episode, appeared to be in the shape of a snail.




The screws and the rods in his arm cried in pain. But there was something else.




Love at first sight, in a hidden stairwell, in a mansion now baptized with water and fire.




Can you believe it?




How can someone fall in love with the glint of a dead girl, strapped into an airplane seat thousands of miles away, off the coast of France, on its way to Germany?




An airplane at the bottom of the ocean, a night flight that had crashed into the sea?




Tellesco was in love with a dead girl. For whatever reasons, perhaps we revisit this earthly plane over and over again to re-connect with a soul we have known all along.



Call it Déjà vu, or the feeling like you have awakened from a dream that you wish to get back to, have you ever seen a person that you wanted to talk to, but you never got the chance?



A chance meeting, or even a glint of someone, and you always think of: "What could have happened if I had stopped and said hi?"



You never get a second chance.





He felt a hand on his arm, and he felt strength.





Huh.



He had never been kissed by a girl in this lifetime, yet, and that was because of his own shit he had to deal with.



He looked up, and he saw her in the passenger seat.




Instead of screaming out loud and bailing out of the car like any one of us would do, he smiled.



It felt like home.


Hah?





= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =





N.E.R.D. Rock Star.







Sean looked into the abyss and he knew that he would have to go balls to the wall, petal to the metal, and scream into the direction of hell.




He thumped the accelerator down to the floor, and his automobile awoke.





This would not end well.




- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -




In the distance between the oncoming pairs of cars driven by purple robes searching for mayhem and the ones behind them, a new set of lights appeared.





In the rain that punished the valley of the Sans Joking River Valley, a long, sleek, black as death, gleaming and glinty hearse joined the fray.






It had a circle A spray painted on its side.






The driver had an evil grin on his fat face.



He would bring his own mayhem to the party.





His grin glinted with a hundred fangs.











Uh, Wha?









God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.






.

164 One Red Light

The Features. How It Starts.






I watched Joey drive off with Katheena in the Maserati Bora. Alone in the dark, with no one but some mangled heaps down to the left, I watched the red tail lights fade and grow together into one red dot.



The rain began to scour the ‘57’s roof like rocks from a fire hose. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t take my eyes off the tiny red dot until it disappeared in the blur of water.



Alone.




Joey had hinted at seeing Lorelei, I was certain of it. But he hadn’t come right out and said her name. He didn’t need to. It was understood. Strange things were happening that night, I tell you. It was one long hell of a day.



It would be one long hell of a night, too.



The seats were cold and hard. Hell, everything inside and out of the Chevy was cold and hard. The dashboard was painted metal: red, like the outside of her. The vinyl seats were not original, but close to it. Cold, hard plastic, which was the fashion back then.



Even the white walled tires were hard, to match the suspension.




And the engine? Well, she was hot and bothered. She wanted to get going, baby, go. Time to blow out some carbon and clean the plugs off. She wanted to drink and I wanted to pour.




I squealed her rear left tire and she hung there for a moment and then she ambled forward. It might take her a bit to get there, but once she did, there was no stopping her.




+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +



Joey looked over at Katheena when she began to cough. Her cough was not easing up. It was becoming continuous, and sort of hollow, like a rattle. It was an empty coughing.




She didn’t open her eyes at all. She didn’t even move her hands up to her mouth. She just coughed like a puppet. It was like she wasn’t there anymore. Her body was chust going through the motions. Joey felt like he was driving a hearse. He looked up and saw his own face in the rearview mirror.




He pushed the mirror away. He didn’t want to see anything anymore. He was just about done with everything that night.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -




Tellesco looked over at Sean’s car in the deluge of rain. Sean had swung around and was now facing the other way, on the other side of Tellesco.




Tellesco thought he should turn around as well. He would follow Sean to the grave, if he was asked to. He would go wherever Sean went, and he would do his best to protect Sean. They were best buddies, and that is what best buddies did. They watched out for each other. Buds for life, dude.




But when it came down to brass tacks, well, those intentions were just words. Those words got washed away in the rain. When it was called, the number was wrong.



He could feel evil in his bones. He was no stranger to evil. Evil was a drunken man in a dark hallway, feeling his way along.




Tellesco wanted to jet off in the other direction. He felt it in his bones. Evil was coming.



French Kicks. Trial Of The Century.








Sean looked over at Tellesco’s car. He knew why Tellesco was still facing the other way, and that was ok. In fact, it was a good thing. Whatever was about to happen, perhaps Tellesco would be safe, and he could come back after whatever it was had happened, and he could get Sean to the Hostibal.



He didn’t want anything to happen to Tellesco.




He had to save him.




Self styled martyr, or was it a wannabe hero? Well, whatever was going on in his head, he was headed for another crash.







God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.





.

163 Two In Darkness

.









Do not click on this, unless you wish to travel forward in time to the start of the pay back series.






My Lady Lisa found this gem for you and me. Thanks babe.




Joe Cocker. High Time We Went.









The moon baptized the desert. Furious rain blurred the lights growing brighter, from way down yonder in the dark.


“There they are Sean! We musta dusted them hard!”


“Huh. Well so we did, Tellesco, so we did.”




The blur of lights spread apart, and went off to the left and the right, and they smeared and tumbled off into their new trajectories.


A black hole enveloped the night.



Sean and Tellesco stood on the crumbly tar, rain dousing their shivering bodies, as they looked down into the abyss, and then they looked at each other.




Then, much further down the dark country lane, another pair of glinty eyes, blurred and painted yellow, grew from where the first pair had parted ways.



Sean’s skin crawled. What the hell was going on?



“Tellesco. Get back in your car.”


“But why? I want to laugh at them when they get here. We dusted them so well that---”




“TELLESCO! Get Back in your CAR!”


“Boo Hoo!”








Sean had always been a skeptic and a pragmatist. These are, indeed, solid qualities to have in your mental toolbox. But it may be good to not let the shiny tools out-gleam the dirty ones.


Sometimes, dirty is better.


Sometimes, you have to go by feel, in the dark.




Sean hopped back into his own ride, and he did not know what to do.



He sat there, and his knuckles trembled in the downpour.



He looked up into his rearview mirror.



Sitting duck.




How many times had he felt this way in his youth? Waiting for the next thing to happen to him.







Victim.




Band Of Skulls. Sweet Sour.














(He waited for his father to return home from the bars and strip clubs…)



The headlights in his rearview mirror blurred, but their blur grew brighter with each moment that passed...









(The snore of his mother in the room down the hall…)



The fearful sky above pelted the roof of his ride with louder and sharper pings that sounded like a ball peen hammer...







(The slump of a leather jacket dropping to the floor in the kitchen, the smack and tingle of keys on the kitchen table, sliding across and then jangling onto the floor below. Sean would never, ever wear leather at all…)


The wind howled outside of the car, and them lights blurred into two sets of two…









(The mutter of a swear, and the stagger of footfalls, echoing down the hallway…)


The lights behind him and Tellesco became clear now…







(The twist of a bedroom doorknob…)





Tellesco sat there in his own car, awaiting the rest of us to come, so he could laugh in our faces and joke about how we were slow pokes, with the rain dumping into his shattered passenger side window…





Sean understood that it was not we bastard punks who were coming up fast and bright. He realized that Tellesco and he were in danger. He knew that he would have to save them both.





Alone.






Alone.





In the dark.






Yet again…









You see, that had been his mission all along, to save Tellesco. He knew why, even if he didn’t exactly know why…



Frozen in fear he saw the lights coming closer.








(The door creaked open… Bad… Bad… Bad…)






Perhaps he knew through instinct that in saving Tellesco, he could



save




himself






...










And now, he had put them both into danger, because he had been full of bravado, feeling like a victor, like someone who had chust come from one hell of a victory.





Water and fire.




Baptism and explosions.




Black hole and light.









Never the twain should meet.










Sean gunned his engine and he swung his car around.






The rain blurred his eyes.







= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =







God Help You.



God Help Us All.



---willies out.







.

162 Damage and Collateral

No More Links.


Chust Story.



Ya Know.




Pack your bowl and pour your mug.




Let's go.




We in for a loooooong ride, baby.






Touch, Peel and Stand. ---by Days Of The New







I reached in my pocket for my ID card, and there, upon the gleaming hood of Katheena’s beautiful bitch, I brushed off the desert dust and lined us up.



The black bird spread its wings wide.






Crows record our human condition, lest you have forgotten.



We took a lesson from Katheena’s Mettle Book.




I looked about the surface of the moon.



I made an assessment of the shituation, looking across the road.



Joey joined me. “We going after those fuckers?”



Nope.


I looked down at his face, and then I turned and looked at Katheena, back inside the car.


“Not we. One of us will stay and one of us will go. Katheena been chugging mud, and she ain’t awake.”



Joey looked over at those fuckers whom we thought had caused this. “They need to be paid back for this.”



I thought about that. “Joseph. This shit is mine. Someone needs to take Katheena to the nearest hostibal.”



Joey looked at her. “In this here car? She looks pretty fast. Why you handing her over to me?”


I think he was talking about two things, when he said, "her."





I shrugged. “She is a fast bitch. Now get her south.”




Joey looked up at me and shook his head.


I felt hot under my leather. Katheena needed to be taken away. “Joseph, she has mud in her lungs. You need to get her to safety.”


Joey wasn't having it. “Weeeeee-ill! We both bail on this shit! That other car over there is like a cast iron stove. It won’t go fast! Come back with us NOW!”



I turned around and grabbed him by his leather. Always mind your leather. “Joseph, this shit is chust starting. I will end it.”




Joey looked over at those bastards in the mangled heap with their headlights shining all about. It looked like they had been dancing a tango and then fallen down to take a nice desert dust nap on top of a soft pillow, legs all intertwined.



He looked back up at me. “OK.”



Led Zepplin. The Rover.







After he shot off in the Maserati Bora, heading to a side street that would lead to south, and then to help and a hostibal, something occurred.


Headlamps appeared in the other direction from Joey. Some cars were coming back for us.



To us.


Who were they?



This was not going to be a good thing.


Sean and Tellesco had their own shit to deal with, which will be the description next time.



I did not need to deal with the mangled heap of broken bodies.



Fresh ones were coming.


For me.




Oh.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I creaked open the heavy door to the old car. She smiled at me from inside. I think she liked me.


I would not treat her well.



But, I think she understood.


You see,


When you have spent your life gathering dust in a garage, instead of maximizing your potential, well, you will welcome a chance to show what it is that you can do.


When you are made out of solid iron, instead of plastic or aluminum, or thin-pressed sheet-metal, you can cause quite a bit of damage to those other cars,


...the younger ones.





Iron Horse.




Do not stand in the way of the Iron Horse.


It’s like a train.



She was an excellent 1957 Chevy.




To you, my friend, that means she was a:




Heavy,


Beautiful,


Unstoppable


Rocket.







a Rocket Ship.




They were built like rocket back then.



And now, she would finally get her chance to fly to the moon.





We would do it together.






We would die together.




We would get revenge.



That was the intention.






God Help You.


God Help Us All.




---willies out.

161 REBIRTH

We are not done yet. We have a long way to go, my friend.







Manchester Orchestra. Virgin.







Whatever you have done, or not yet accomplished, wherever you have gone or not yet have visited, you are not done here.



We are not alone, here, upon a tiny blue marble floating in an ocean of cold black in the vast eternity of space.




We have each other.




It is because we have each other that we know of a greater good.




It is because of the impact we have upon each other that we know that there is something else.




It is, indeed, what you have been looking for, and which you may find, after all.




Look for it.






You will find it.






It is real.







Just sayin'







+ + + + + + + + + + + + + +





Shards of crystal goblets and bone china plates pelted me.


Us.






White and red, rain and dust.




Chill the whites, let the reds breathe.





Desert mettle and ocean salt.



Iron and water.





Rust.




Rust In Peace.








Mud and tears in your eyes.








But,









Never say die.




"Rage, rage against the dying of the light." ---Dylan Thomas





These were the thoughts I had in my head as I slogged away from Orion, the mighty hunter in the night sky, the name of Katheena’s golden bird.



I carried a star on my shoulder to the highway that headed East.



The star.




Katheena had been my star, as well you know.




Taho.







In the crash of the cold tears of the hidden moon above, I felt hot water run down my legs and then I heard a gasp.




I felt Katheena heave over my shoulder.



Her body shivered as she regurgitated water, and she coughed.



Wha?




I set her down in the desert mud and pulled her face up to my face.



She coughed over and over again, into my face.



I can not tell you what it felt like to hear her breathe again.



So I won’t.




I can't.




+ + + + + + + + + + +






Well, I had her dead and buried and I’d gone and moved back to Maine and started a new life as a lumberjack before even reaching the highway and the Maserati that awaited us.







I think it was like that time when the handle of the bale barrow came down on the top of my head when I was nine years old at my gram’s farm in South Freeport, Maine, and I staggered around gibbering nonsense for a few minutes. Cousin Richard, rest his soul, he tried to get me to stop stalking about so he could see if I was bleeding, but I wouldn’t have it.



I had been stunned, in a state of shock.






I picked her up again and carried her properly now, which was not over my shoulder, to the Maserati. She kept coughing.




I think some dust had gotten into my eyes or something as I stumbled along...







Angel Eyes, by Worldwide Groove Corporation.













Joey pulled over to the side of the road as I was placing Katheena in the passenger seat.


“Weeeee-ill!” He came running over. “Who is that?”



I got up from her and his face fell. “Katheeeee-na! Why her face all bloody?!”



I pointed way over to where Orion rested in the darkness. He was unseeable, like a black hole, but you could still feel his pull.



“She crashed her car. I think those bastards over there in that heap of cars had something to do with it. She was following after us. I think she was trying to rescue us.”


We looked down at her, and she was not awake.



Joey whispered, "You don't even want to know who I chust saw..."



Huh.




- - - - - - - - - - - - -




Tellesco pulled up beside Sean and asked why they were stopping now. His window was still up.


Sean got out and smashed the window open with both of his huge hands. He leaned in and shouted. “Tellesco! Where are the others?!”



Tellesco looked back over his shoulder.



Headlights glowed from way back down the highway, in the pelting rain.



They were coming quite fast.





Huh.




= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

I never saw Lorelei again. No one did. She had put me and Katheena back together again.




My watery angel, she with eyes the color of the deep green sea.




Lorelei had once told me, “I chust don’t want you to be so sad.”




You recall that, don’t you?




Perhaps that is what she intended, and she could not rest, wherever she lied, at the bottom of the sea, until she made some sort of closure between us.






Rest in peace, you original punk lady with the white hair was bright like a wildfire on the planet Mercury, closest rock to the Sun.



You opened a new world for me, and for that, I will forever remain grateful.



Never forget.





Never forgotten.





Taho.



You put me and Katheena back together again, and you put the Little Lion Man back into this equation, whatever it was.


But why did you also put Tellesco into this new math?


We may never know.



Or will we?






One must not forget The Glinty, he on his horse-drawn carriage that glowed blue in the night, like Lorelei’s hair had on that night in the desert, when we went off into space on a Moon Shot, baby.


Did you forget to remember Sean and Tellesco?




That there is the start of a new chapter.



Next time, my friend.



Ya know.




Let the slag fall from the pure mettle, all around.


Orion was hidden.



He was hidden in the desert, when we went back to find him, and we could not see him, simply because he was a golden car, with gold-tinted windows, and he was covered in desert mud up past his wheels.




A black hole, a former star,

The phoenix would rise again.




The phoenix would ride again.





Orion would rise again.



We would all rise again.






= = = = = = = = = = = = = =






Happy Rebirth Day to you, my friend.




We all have a long path to travel.




Thank you for following me along this path.




It will end well, if you care to continue along.




We simply have many more things to do before the end.





But you know this.










God Help You.



God Help Us All.



---willies out.








My wife of 18 years (I mean, we have been married eighteen years) gets a laugh from this tune below. Hey, she was watching The Sound of Something or other last night while we finished wrapping up stocking stuffers and then she laughed when...


... well, you'll see.


Listen.



Bob River’s Jingle Hell’s Bells







.