54 - 17. well furnished

by bofa xesjum

outside, the snow began to fall at an alarming rate. huddled in the grimy doorway, roger valmont felt very unhappy, he turned the collar of his ragged green coat up, how had it come to this? he asked himself speculatively. wet snow began to cover the glass in the doorway. roger could no longer see the people in the street. i am wasting my valuable time, he told himself despondently. the door opened suddenly and roger was confronted by aldington. aldington shook snow off his topcoat and glared at roger. do you live here, fellow,? aldington demanded in his brusque manner. aldington! do you not know me? roger cried out piteously. aldington’s eyes retracted in the way roger remembred so well. yes, of course, he murmured, what do you want now? now! it has been at least thirty years, roger cried. well, what is it that you want, after thirty yrars? shelter from the storm, what else would i possibly want? what could anyone possibly want? aldington muittered grimly to himself. come on up then, he added, pointing to the stairs. the elevator is broken, but the room is well furnished. roger followed aldington up four flights of dimly lit stairs. the room was indeed well furnished, and warm as well. roger sat down on a shabby but soft oriental divan. might i be offered a drink next, he mused hopefully. not yet, for aldington had disappeared into an adjoining room. roger heard aldington’s voice rising and falling, angry as ever. outside the wind joined the snow in a fierce embrace.

54 - 16. olivia and the colonel

by bofa xesjum

after olivia escaped from the dictator, she wanted to relax. she rented a cottage on the outskirts of the wilderness. she liked to look out the window at the grass. beyond the grass was the desert, and a few mudholes. a hippo named the colonel lived in the biggest mudhole. olivia was warned never to disturb or approach he colonel. because he was the fiercest beast in the southern hemisphere. olivia spent a week reading the memoirs of empress josephine. inevitably, she grew bored and sauntered down to the mudhole. the colonel was sitting there, with a supremely indifferent air. a little boy wearing a fedora sat on his back. he was the last descendant of a tribe of vikings. who had terrorized the countryside in king herod’s time. olivia offered the boy one of her hand rolled cheroots. and a light, which he accepted with casually mperial politesse. they smoked for a while in silence under the clouds. do you come here often? olivia finally asked the boy. only every sixth day after the full moon, he replied. if you do not mind my asking, olivia began tentatively - oh, you may ask me anything at all you like. they covers a great deal of territory, does it not? territory is what we have a great deal of here. you seem something of a sage for one so young. there is no youth or age here in the mudhole. is this beast actually as ferocious as he is reputed? why do you not pat his nose and find out?

54 - 15. jennifer and the potatoes

by bofa xesjum

jennifer johnson, the center of the universe, had a dream. one of the strangest dreams any human being ever had. so strange it can hardly be put into coherent words. the economy of the kingdom was based on green grapes. neither the peasants nor the nobles ever seriously questioned this. suddenly an ostrich ran across the road carrying a flag. jennifer realized she was dreaming, and tried hard to wake up. this can not be happening to me, she thought desperately. if i walk along quietly, the underlings will ignore me. and the monkeys will arrive on the mayflower in time. i have always tried to be an innocent good person. and not surrender to farmer fred and his ferocious friends. very soon, the ships will return with their precious cargo. suddenly the pile of potatoes blocked jennifer’s right of way. they never go completely away, now, do they, jennifer? it must be a judgement on you, don’t you think? a camel carrying his back to old virginia suddenly appeared.’’ need some help with those potatoes, miss, he enquired soliticiously. get behind me, devil, jennifer hissed, i know your ways. the camel turned into a rabbit and loped casually away. jennifer tried to be brave, despite all that was happening. maybe it was all meant to be, she mused hopefully. a rider appeared on the horizon, all by his lonesome. faster and faster he approached the expectant pile of potatoes. jennifer finally accepted that she was only a potato herself. even a potato needs a friendly word now and then.

54 - 14. out on highway x

by bofa xesjum

are you lonesome tonight, blackbeard sang softly to the moon. you should get a new song, little john advised him. i can remember the words to this one, blackbeard replied. the man will hear you if you sing too loud. he can hear me anyway if he dang so desires. i see we are dropping all pretenses this fine summer evening. in response to little john’s words, rain began to fall. the drops plopped on the windshield of the old vehicle . blackbeard and little john had been waiting for a while. since the beginning of time, according to some accounts. not quite so long as that, per other interested parties. in any case, blackbeard continued to sing his lonesome song. before dawn, right on time, a highway patrol car appeared. sheriff jane brown got right to the point, as usual. have we not encountered you two fellows before? she asked. and have we not previously told you to move along? officer mary white nodded her agreement in her forthright way. we have moved along, blackbeard replied in his imperturbable manner. but we have moved back again, little john added smoothly. why do you persist in your persistence, officer white demanded. you have a deeper purpose, sheriff jane brown insisted adamantly. and we will never give up until we unearth it. and that goes double for me, officer mary white concurred. we have the same purpose as the stars, blackbeard reorted. just to keep on shining, and to be lonesome tonight. oh, are you lonesome tonight, are you with me tonight?

54 - 13. eddie in the river

by bofa xesjum

the big guy watched from the window as benny parked. benny took his sweet time getting out of the truck. so how did it go? the big guy growled menacingly. it went smooth, how did you think it would go? so both packages were safely delivered, the big guy persisted. of course what else would i presumably do with them? the big guy took a small notepad out of his pocket. and a sharpened pencil, and handed them both to benny. write down exactly what you did, the big guy commanded. and keep your back to the window, he added peremptorily. benny rolled his sleepy eyes at the big guy’s paranoia. but did as he was instructed and quickly wrote something. let’s go for a ride, the big guy’s note read. the big guy absolutely never talked in his own car. they headed down the broad highway into the setting sun. benny pointed, then turned down a barely visible dirt road. they bumped along for about two miles, and then stopped. dirt was carefully smoothed over under an old black tree. looks like an awful big hole for a small package. i did not think eddie was that small a package. eddie! you moron! you were supposed to bury the money! and dump eddie in the river down by the mill. my mistake, i thought it was the other way around. the other way around? so then where is the money? benny’s trusty old .45 suddenly appeared in his steady hand. you can guess the rest - under an old black tree.

54 - 12. gilroy and jared

by bofa xesjum

the waiting room in the bus station was strangely quiet. the man behind the ticket counter exhaled slowly and menacingly. the young man with the ticket to indianapolis slept peacefully. his name was gilroy and he was called laughing boy. he was in love with a girl named olive branch. whom he had left behind in a state of expectation. somewhere in wyoming, or maybe somewhere else outside of montana. the heavy breathing of the man behind the counter continued. the name on his drivers license was jared hunter yancey. he was a direct descendant of the conqueror genghis khan. behind his counter, he often dreamed of being a conqueror. when he did not dream of being a hit man. or a trained deadly assassin, or a drive by shooter. or a movie star, or president of the united states. right now his mind was focused on gilroy, the sleeper. he read gilroy’s mind like a newsreel and a cartoon. he saw olive running down the road with outstretched arms. and saw and heard gilroy pledge his eternal heartfelt love. jared’s brain began to bubble like a witch’s black cauldron. i have to pull myself together, he suddenly thought desperately gilroy woke up and sat up - the connection was broken. jared took a deep breath and blinked his bulging eyes. gilroy got up and walked over to the coke machine. he carefully considered its bright red exterior surface and paused. he inserted the required coins and received his icy bottle. he slowly ,returned to his seat without looking at jared.

54 - 11. arthur and jennifer

by bofa xesjum

arthur jones was sort of different from the other boys. most of them wanted to be astronauts or omnipresent oligarchs. arthur aspired to be a kind person or a prophet. what those occupations actually involved he was not quite sure. so he saved his money and took to the highway. suddenly a black tornado appeared in the hitherto blue sky. this was an exceptional event in arthur’s stolidly uneventful life. he felt a vast something or other overwhelming his being. a gremlin in a red tuxedo made a sudden appearance. the gremlin made a sincere effort to articulate his message. and yet in the end he failed miserably and spectacularly. and poor arthur, none the wiser, headed into the maelstrom. all of these things happened a very kong time ago. they happened under the long reign of good king henry. and many of the details have been lost to time. despite this, arthur soldiered on down the ever broadening road. arthur’s mind was essentially shapeless at this point in time. so far his journey had not changed this smple fact. on the seventh day he met a woman named jennifer. she carried him away to her cave in the hills. jennifer had a vision of the way things should be. and she was not to be denied, then or ever. arthur's grand dreams became obsolete in no little time. a river ran from jennifer’s cave to the blue sea. in the end, arthur never made a single accurate prophecy. but he did always try to be a kind person.