johnny and jackie, part 2

by bofa xesjum

part two of ?

ackie did not decide to hate johnny overnight. he had been encouraged to do so by colonel musgrave, and by ralph johnson, who was not what he seemed to be. johnny , on the other hand, suspected none of this. it started to rain. the circus was in town. sitting behind the wheel of his state police cruiser, eddie watched the big tent go up. no matter where he was, jackie was alone with his thoughts. ralph johnson observed jackie from under the brim of his straw hat. because that was the kind of guy ralph johnaon was. sometimes jackie forgot exactly why he hated johnny. raindrops ran down the window of the diner. mona starbuck remembered the last stranger who passed through town. the two strangers stopped and watched the circus tent go up. the first stranger - the original stranger - came up behind them. hatred can be a curious thing. sheriff john brown did nor care for circus people, especially clowns, was johnny really as good a person as all that? was sheriff john brown really as bad a person as all that? and what about mona starbuck? so far, nobody asked johnny what he thought the whole situation. or stagger lee, for that matter. what do you think? and what does eddie, sitting in his cruiser watching the circus tent go up in the rain, think? the two strangers nodded to each other and proceeded into town. colonel musgrave poured himself another stiff drink. mona starbuck got up and turned on her new television set.

johnny and jackie, part 1

by bofa xesjum

part one of ?

the stranger came down the road, and did not look left or right. jackie was the jealous type. and when the strangers came to town, jackie took notice. jackie hated johnny. and jackie did not like the looks of the strangers. rlaph johnson never harmed anybody. stagger lee had an understanding with sheriff john brown. sheriff john brown was a bad person. one of the worst. or so the strangers had been told. colonel musgrove poured himself a stiff drink. the strangers looked out the window as he dd so. mona starbuck remembered the last stranger who passed through town. stagger lee remembered him too. his name was ———————. eddie was in the state police. but then, jackie did not care for too many people. the stranger - the original stranger - walked into marie;s diner. sheriff john brown looked up from his cup of black coffee. jackie, who hated everybody, looked up from his slice of blueberry pie. outside, it started to rain. sheriff john brown hesitated - he had a date with stagger lee. sheriff john brown loved the rain. johnny was a good person. jackie hated johnny because he was a good person. eddie was on the way.

the closed orange

by bofa xesjum

he long orange encapsulation of knoxville tennessee had overtaken the children on the deserted highway there was nothing more to be said apparently but then a blue voice appeared across the moon and a termite drew a picture in the surf the assembled partygoers felt in their brittle bones that here at last was something worth defeating look at the crabs, miss muffet exclaimed they have lost all sense of decorum but have left a light in the window for the young master if he ever decides to return but the market is closed for the hurricane

personal information, part 2

by bofa xesjum

part two of two

all right, dylan, my friend, let’s get on with it. my name isn’t dylan, it is zenith. you told me it was dylan. i just changed it. i can give myself any name i choose. not a problem. we are all friends here, just trying to keep the ball rolling and the machinery of civilization humming. no we are not friends, you are hateful bureaucratic scum and would be eliminated in a truly inclusive and caring society. i will make a note of that. but to return to the next question - do we really have to? we do if we want to finish in time for lunch. oh, all right. what is your favorite color? carmine. carmine? let me see - that is some shade of red, is it not? blood red - the blood of tyrants, fascists, and bureaucrats like you. oh look, here are your apple juice and doughnut. thank you, 784. they do not look all that appetizing. try to make the best of it - next question: what was your first pet’s name? goldie. thank you. what - don’t you want to know what kind of pet goldie was? no. that is not one of the questions. goldie was a sea lion, the sweetest sea lion who ever lived, and i loved her with all my innocent childish heart. what is your favorite restaurant - mcdonalds, arby’s, burger king or chick-fil-a? the french laundry. i will put down chick-fil-a. where are you from? someplace. i have absolutely no idea. what was your first job? assistant consultant. that is what they all say. are you doubting my word? what your mother’s maiden name? jones. that is what they all say. look here, i do not care much for your attitude, mister bureaucrat. time’s up. thank you for your input, zenith. you did very well, we will forward you your results. my name is not zenith - it is yorba the magnificent. good-bye, yorba. can i finish my doughnut and apple juice? yes, in the elevator. i do my best work and have my best thoughts in the elevator. next!

personal information, part 1

by bofa xesjum

the cubicles stretched for miles, were small and narrow, and did not appear to afford much privacy. a nondescript person carrying a green manila folder entered one of them, and sat down across from a second, equally nondescript person looking down at the pale blue screen of a small tablet. a sign behind the second person read: do not give your personal information except to authorized personnel. your name is roger mortimer? the second person asked the first person. no, it is dylan sansculotte. you gave it as roger mortimer to the sentinel at the gate. i changed it in the elevator on the way up. fair enough. you say your first job was assistant maintenance supervisor - is that correct? no, i was a dog walker dispatcher. i changed that too in the elevator. all right. did you change anything else in the elevator? everything. good. i like a person who is not afraid to change their mind. i did not change my mind, i changed who i was. not a problem, just tell me who you are. do you not have a list of questions? of course - the next one is - what is your favorite food? beef stew. do you make it yourself, or get it out of a can? do i look like the kind of person who eats beef stew out of a can? i have never known a person who admitted to eating beef stew, let alone liking it, so i can not really say. maybe when this interview is over, you can take me to lunch and i can show you where to get the best beef stew in town. i will consider it. so, if you get your beef stew in a restaurant, i guess you do not make it yourself. not necessarily. how do you know i am not the head chef at the place that makes the best beef stew in town? did you stop to think of that? no, i did not. i apologize. that is the trouble with you soulless bureaucratic dorks - you never stop to think about anything except your next doughnut and your next cardboard cup of watery coffee. do you know where i can get some non-watery coffee? but the doughnuts here are actually pretty good, would you like one? i will take one. do you have anything to drink - besides the watery coffee? orange juice, grape juice, apple juice? apple juice, if it is indigenous. made from apples planted by johnny appleseed himself. do you know which country produces the most apples? i think it is either afghanistan or angola. but it is not my job to know such things. what is your job? to obtain your personal information. so far, i do not seem to be doing a very good job of of it.

the empty road - 40. the end

by bofa xesjum

part forty of forty

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to begin at the beginning, click here

john prester fell asleep at the wheel, and delilah ran off the road and down a bank and flipped over. when john woke up he could not move and did not know who he was or what he was. it was between three and four o'clock in the morning and the sky was filled with threatening clouds. where are the highway patrol now when you need them, john might have thought but did not. he was riding through the same night he always had. looking for something to look for. he wanted to be a strange man, because that was who he wanted to be. to have men point at him and say, brother, there goes a strange man. to have women whisper to each other about him in their mink coats walking down the gangplank of the haunted house in malibu or marseille. smoking a cigarette in a holder like the king of greece. no orchestra - just a gypsy to toss a coin to. a gold coin from the tomb of a pharoah. whom he had been in a previous life. i am afraid it is closing time. yes, even for you, my lord. the good times are over. how quickly, how quickly. they went by. good night. night. the end

the empty road - 39. the plain

by bofa xesjum

part thirty-nine of forty

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to begin at the beginning, click here

the creature ran and ran and ran across the plain, chased by another creature about three times bigger than itself.. the creature was fast, and the bigger creature was equally fast, but might tire quicker , the smaller creature hoped. they ran and ran, kicking up dust, past rocks, and past shrubs that might be good to eat. but the big creature was not the least bit interested in stopping to eat the tasty shrubs. the smaller creature had no choice but to hope the bigger one got tired and quit. suddenly another, even larger creature appeared from behind a large rock - all three creatures froze. the third creature snarled at the first larger creature, apparently ignoring the small creature. this is my chance, the small creature thought, and he ran off sideways. the small creature did not look back , and gave it his all. he ran and ran until he dropped on to the sand. because that was all there was - sand and more sand . where am i, it thought sadly, , as night fell. it could see nothing to eat in sight. it had escaped the large hungry creatures. who might return at any instant. only to die of hunger? it was not fair. and getting cold. very cold. cold. next