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.

54 - 10. barton the dreamer

by bofa xesjum

boris barton, a highly regarded disciplinarian, seemed a sad fellow. he made a good living whipping recalcitrant lordlings into shape. those who employed him thought he must harbor some secret. the lads whom he disciplined were sure that he did. and had many sniggering speculations among themselves on the subject. but the lords and their offspring were both quite mistaken. barton waked slowly home in the evenings through the fog. very occasionally he stopped at a pub for a pint. he never spoke to anybody, and nobody spoke to him. he slept eight hours every night, and dreamed seven hours. he never remembered the dreams, or knew he had them. the dreams were never of persons he encountered by day. or of persons he had known in his earlier life. or of famous persons, or persons recently in the news. or of familiar animals — cats, dogs, horses, cows, pigs, sheep. or of lions tigers, leooards, jaguars, elephants, hippos, or dionosaurs. or of clowns, ballerinas, vampires, werewolves, zombies, or mad scientists or of being famous himself, or of performing heroic deeds. very well, then, what, if anything, did he dream of? i think we both know the answer to that question. pray, why do you not just tell me the answer? a woman named jenkins lived across the hall from barton. unknown to both barton and herself, she shared his dreams . they never spoke, just nodded, if they passed in the hallway. barton ate breakfast every day at the same corner cafe. he said good morning to the waitress - neevr anything else.

54 - 9. a picture in a hallway

by bofa xesjum

hortense escorted miss garberson into wroth towers, hortense’s ancestral home. a row of framed paintings lined the long dim hallway. most of them were portraits of long deceased unsmiling ancestors. but one depicted a hooded man hanging from a gallows. miss garberson stopped and considered it with a furrowed brow. forgive me for asking, what is this a picture of? it is a picture of great-grandfather walter wroth’s untimely demise. he was hanged? miss garberson asked with a perplexed air. the picture is clear enough, is it not? hortense replied. was he hanged for any particular reason,? miss garberson persisted. it was widely accepted that he was an unloyal citizen. but of course, miss garberson murmured softly, yes, of course. of course what? hortense replied, perhaps a bit too sharply. of course he was hanged - it was in his stars. what do you know about it? hortense, now amused, asked. we knew each other, quite intimarely, in a previous life. how can you tell, when he is wearing a hood? because i would know him anywhere - we were in love. we met on a summer evening, under a pale moon. i was an orphan - he was heir to a dukedom. walter was npt heir to any dukedom, or to anything. he was heir to my heart, miss garberson asserted confidently. but the old duke did not approve of my existence. and arranged for poor walter to be unjustly accused of - . of something dreadful, but it hardly matters now, does it? thank you so much for sharing, shall we move on?

54 - 8. bigboy and tulip

by bofa xesjum

bigboy liked to go for long walks in the rain. especially at night, when a cold north wind was blowing. and the lights behind the hills flickered and went out. because the new so-called humans had all gone to sleep. what a sorry bunch of pathetic sponges, bigboy mused contemptuously. how would they have fared, back in the old days? bigboy had roamed these same hills for a million years. he had seen a lot, but not so much lately. the signs were going out of the sky, night after night. it was good that the rain blotted out the sky. and that the wind blew away the ashes of mountains. and the great beasts were hardly more than a memory. by day bigboy worked at a savings and loan association. when the sun went down he forgot all about it. and returned to his beloved hills and wind and rain. things went on in this way until they did not. tulip tucker was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. all the daughters were ladies maids at the mountaintop hotel. they each worked at the hotel for thirty years . and then retired and married a game warden named troy. tulip was a maid at the hotel for thirteen years. miss jack was the oldest resident of the mountaintop hotel. one night miss jack asked tulip to walk her dog . it was a fearfully dark and rtainy and windy night. tulip and the dog lost their way and met bigboy. you can just guess what happened next - or maybe not.

54 - 7. jeremiah and mose

by bofa xesjum

there are two types of people in this strange world. people who dream of power, people who dream of freedom. which type of person are you? old man mose asked. you see which type i am, jeremiah johnson replied easily. do you only dream of power? old man mose reciprocated.. good one, jeremiah acknowledged laughingly, looking out at the skyline. the skyline was most impressive, dozens of towering shining skyscrapers. the two old friends sipped their drinks and sighed contentedly. they had been lads together, down by the old mill. jeremiah was a son of the richest man in town. though under gardener falls was not a particularly large town. mose - bright-eyed tyke mose then - was already a confirmed layabout. he thought - knew - that jeremiah and his family were rich. they had all the money in the world and more. and could spend it all day every day until doomsday. and have plenty left over to spend in the grave. sometimes mose was invited to dinner at the johnson house. he always stole something - and took it to nick’s pawnshop. the years went slowly by - jeremiah and mose drifted apart. jeremiah took over the family business - it crashed and burned, jeremiah became a homeless bum - a wanderer and an outcast. mose saved the money he got from everything he stole. he went to law school, and made millions on corporate battlefields. jeremiah killed a man in a fight over a crack pipe. suddenly feeling sentimental, mose defended him and got him off. now they sat in mose’s office and watched the sunset.

54 - 6. under a blue sky

by bofa xesjum

remember when you could walk down the same street twice? and? the earl of pearl responded uncertainly to lancelot’s question. and it would still be there, just as you remembered. the earl was well aware of his own widespread reputation. as somewhat of a dullard and a person easily twitted. explain yourself more eloquently - you know my mind is blank. i mean the world is changing more rapidly than ever. how so exactly? the earl responded with a crooked smile. two members of the royal guard appeared out of nowhere. they eyed lancelot and the earl with a suspicious mien. what are you layabouts doing on this fine day, eh? why? lancelot replied innocently, what exactly should we be doing? there is unrest in the countryside, the first guard asserted. and his majesty the king has decreed, his companion continued - that all gentlemen should play their part, number one concluded. lancelot and the earl scratched their pates in befuddled perplexity. play their parts? what were these foolish fellows on about? they had gotten through the world well enough, thank you.. white clouds were drifting peaceably enough through the blue sky. and the tree on the horizon was not going anywhere. what do you want from us? the earl asked the guards. without warning, the guards began to change their familiar shapes. the first guard turned into a dragon and devoured lancelot. his companion turned into a bear and seized the earl. i protest this outrage, the earl cried to no avail. the sky became a kaleidoscope of red and black ashes.

54 - 5. a heavy load

by bofa xesjum

a man walked down a street, carrying a heavy load. nobody stopped to look at him, or offered to help him. but he did not care - in fact, he felt relieved. because he was robin hood, the world’s most celebrated thief. he had had a lucky day and a narrow escape. he had robbed king midas, reputedly the world’s richest man. and was on his way to meet zoroaster chan o’riley. who was, of course, the world’s most well connected fence. but fickle fate had placed a joker in robin’s deck. out of nowhere an omen appeared in the blue sky. everyone in the street, including robin, looked up at it. as suddenly as it had appeared, it was totally gone. robin blinked - he felt something was very wrong - seriously wrong. he looked down at the sidewalk - where was the load? the heavy load he had stolen from rich king midas. that zoroaster chan o’riley was waiting for at his pawnshop. zoroaster would think robin had doublecrosed him - and then what? he would hunt robin to the ends of the earth. poor robin - all he ever wanted was to be free. a purple cab came along and he hurriedly hailed it. where are you headed pal, the cab driver asked lackadaisically. robin felt in his pocket for his loose spare change. how far will two dollars and ffifty-three cents take me? just about to the bleak and barren outskirts of town. what will i find out there, robin asked the driver. quicksand, alligators, and the hand of fate, the driver replied.

54 - 4. carlos and nick

by bofa xesjum

the hard rain fell down on the dark deserted street. things were never easy for carlos chan abdul macgregor smith. he was born with a surplus of barely suppressed rage. and hated the whole human race, and many other creatures besides. his sort of best friend was nick 23 , an instigator. carlos wanted to be an instigator just like nick was. and stand in the street and in parks and shout. at all the people passing by who were complete idiots. the instigators mostly hung out all together in the park. and sometimes they wandered out into the busy city streets. nick 23 was assuredly the alpha dog of the instigators. carlos aspired to be just like him, some sweet day. what, you may well enquire, did the instigators instigate about? that is a good question, i am glad you asked. the instigators, generally speaking, did not actually call themselves instigators. they just felt disquiet in the depths of their beings. carlos chan abdul macgregor smith could not read or write. he wanted to make himself felt, and not be ignored. he picked up phrases from nick and other agitators. he shouted the phrases and waved his arms a lot. sometimes the police chased the instigators out of the park. not all that often - maybe once a month at most. one day the instigators were chased out - it was raining. but carlos never returned, not that day or any other. the only person who noticed was nick, strange to say. but he never mentioned it, not to anybody at all.

54 - 3. yolanda and robert

by bofa xesjum

olanda jones was preparing to prepare her famous eggplant salad. there was a knock on her door - how extremely surprising. this was indeed an exceptional event - virtually almost unheard of. there had been an upsurge of murders in the metropolis. yolanda did not pay very much attention to the news. in fact, she often expressed skepticism as to their truthfulness however, the reports of the murders had penetrated her consciousness. barely, but they did float on the top of her brain. yolanda reached under her apron and carefully extracted her phone. she hesitated - maybe it was just robert from next door. in the past, yolanda and robert had been fast friends. bit they had drifted imperceptibly apart over the receding years. except that they saw each other about every three months. just outside their doors or outside in the quiet street. yolanda and robert were both modern humans, count on. it. neither of them dreamed much any more, sad to say. but that was then, and now was the real thing. moments passed - the knock on the door was not repeated. i expect it was nothing, yolanda said to herself reassuringly. there is nobody there - i must have been imagining it. li should put more paprika in my famous eggplant salad. i should really try to understand things in general more. and not waste my mental energy on the media’s nonsense. nutmeg - more nutmeg - and maybe just a touch more oregano. the door burst open - and there stood robert the murderer! it as not quite how ylanda had expected everything to end.

54 - 2. mickey and the flowers

by bofa xesjum

quietly the night goes though its eternal cycle, mickey mused. the new king was asleep in his spartanly furnished room. it was mickey’s job to keep the king’s dreams safe. mickey had once been a dreamer himself, many years ago. outside in the darkness, the wolves began to yowl relentlessly. all holy hell threatened to break loose, and then what? but just then mickey fell asleep in a flowery meadow perhaps this is all for the best, he thought helplessly. every time he had a job to do, things happened. white clouds rolled by overhead in the way they had. a vision, mickey thought, what i need is a vision. but all he heard was laughter - and he woke up. was the king still asleep ? he wondered in a panic. hastily he got up and stealthily approached the bedroom door. slowly, slowly, he opened the door - the king was gone. truth be told, he had expected no other possible outcome. so this was the end - but was it after all? mickey ran through the night - and into the flowery meadow. the flowers clutched at his flying feet - no ,not again! the soft petals crawled up his legs , showing no mercy. under the grassy ground, the seeds were growing increasingly restless. they had seen and heard the footprints many times before. victory always seemed to be just tantalizingly out of reach . but the night and the stars always had their excuses. the joke was on mickey - he sank into the earth. the grass straightened up and put on its best face.

54 - 1. peter and harry

by bofa xesjum

peter the great was not an easy person to like. everybody in the town of ——— disliked him somewhat intensely. can you imagine what it must have sadly felt like? quietly remove your shoes before you enter the inner perimeter. harry houdini was peter’s best friend and most implacable enemy. the slow boat to china was almost ready to leave. just then lightning split the sky and thunder roared loudly. you guys will never understand, peter addressed the snappily dressed crowd. except for peter and harry, everybody in the crowd was drunk. many long years would pass before they met again. alas. all the same, the world did not change that much. the day was not marked when everything would suddenly erupt. king kong had been peter’s best friend as a child. despite their sincere protestations of eternal buddiness, they drifted apart. nothing succeeds like the implacable weariness of slowly falling raindrops. a billion raindrops add up to zero proclamations of wisdom. let us return to peter and harry and king kong. oh, all right, if you insist, george washington agreed reluctantly. the red sun dissappeared overr the horizon with shocking abruptness. but the slow boat to china, exasperatingly, had not materialized. china was a million miles away, even as a dream. and it was getting late - too late to turn back. suddenly peter exclaimed, i say, let us have a drink. never say die, harry rejoindered, with a somewhat crooked smile. under the circmustances, there was surely nothing else for it. the wine flowed freely, as you can very well iamgine.