The Queen Of Purple And The Broken Finger

"Why don't you come back to my place?"

"I like it here. Stay here with me awhile."

"It's too bright in here. Everything is white."

"I know. The sun is shining. The wind is blowing through the whole place."

"Come back to my place. Don't you want to fuck me?"

"Can't we fuck here?"

"No. We can't. Bye I'm leaving."

"Bye."

She pops her head back into the doorway one more time smiling and then disappears down the walkway between our apartments. I lay back on the white bed cover, and look up at the white ceiling. Suddenly the room seems so bright. My thoughts swirl in questions and commentary. "I will be a vampire soon for sure.Where does she get all that weed? I'ts black in there. No, it's cozy. One day I will never come out. One day she would lick the skin off my body for sure."

She is probably in the shower now. Overly soaped. Shaving her body smooth. Her lips catching the water. She's not a vampire. She's a vegetarian who lives in the dark. Stepping from the shower she will wrap herself still wet in a purple silk kimono. Two black cats purring around her feet. This the daily ritual. She sits upon her purple bed. The drapes also purple. She is the goddess of darkness.

A four foot bong. A two foot bong. A one foot bong. A wide bottom bong. A double bong. A cigarette one hitter. A little wooden pipe with the secret compartment. Little works of colored glass. A pack of rizlas. A pack of zig zags. Her preference is the bong hit. She has a bag of swag. A couple of film canisters with the purple haired, the orange haired, and some minty green all approximately half full. She will be choosing the purple. She cleans it with a snap and falls back on the bed, and she should be knocking again any second now.

Maybe she will have a quesadilla first. What kind of vegetarian doesn't eat vegetables? Cheese is not a vegetable. The only vegetables she eats are avocados and - and - that's it. Tomatoes in salsa, but not fresh tomatoes so they don't count. Chips and salsa. Soy milk. Cheese and tortillas. Why soy milk if you eat cheese? Felafel's with sour cream. No fruit. She hates fruit. Vegetarian my ass. This diet will kill me. I think of her body: curvy and warm. She always smells of fresh morning earth. Suddenly I miss her. I sit up.

My room now seems so sterile. So plastic with vertical blinds, and everything is so damn white. My surfboards look lonely in the corner. They call to me. Take me. Take me. Feeling guilty I leave them standing with their old wax, and sand encrusted leashes wrapped around their salty fins. I stroke the rail of one as I walk out the door. I will slowly die. I think of her breasts against my face. Yes, coughing on a bong hit I will surely die in her arms in the darkness. I am knocking on her door.

"Who is it?"

"Me"

"Come in."

The drapes are shut. Candles are lit. Nag champas incense fills the room. Her body glows pale against purple. She drags her painted toes along the sheets. A toe ring catches the candle light. Her eyes glow golden. The cats purr on the floor. Her temple beckons me. I hold on to the door knob. A narrow beam of bright sunshine through the crack in the door lays across the carpet. The final fight of the light against the darkness. I look back toward the light. I can smell the salt in the ocean air. Across the street the blond and tanned play in two foot crumbly beach break flying over little sections of white water as if floating on clouds. I push the doorknob behind me and the light dies. I fall to the bed and into her caress. Mick Jagger moans "oh don't do that" to keith's nasty rhythm and we twist and grind. I hold in a tantric pause as she pushes a swirl of glass art between my lips. I enhale the purple. I am lost in the suck of her wet mouth, and her tongue wraps around my body.

When I awaken she is alseep. There is just an annoying hint of litter box behind the incense, and the faint smell of bong water. I look at her cheek as she sleeps. Now she looks gray instead of luninous pale. She snores loudly. I see the demon. Slowly I crawl from her cocoon.

"Where are you..." Then her voice trails off.

It is the morning. The moments before dawn. The sun momentarily will rise over apartment tops and spread it's light over the Pacific. I walk in boxer shorts down the walk way and down the steps. I cross the street and walk up the small court to the board walk. Concrete, but that is still what it is called. I lean my body against the wall that separates the sand from the cement. To the left and right of me their are others. Shadows in the mist. They stand as I do scanning the ocean. Looking for movement.

"How'z it look?"

"It looks like it's comin' up."

A body clad in a black wet suit jumps over the wall beside me. A recognizable face. The first one out. I will be next. I turn and run back to my apartment and grab my wetsuit hanging from my bathroom window and quickly I am back out the door. I stand where the water touches the sand and laugh loudly at the sky. I have escaped. I am free. Diving into the pacific I feel my head throbs momentarily from the cold. There could be no better pain. The dark turns to day.

I walk wet crossing the boulevard with my board weaving casually through the traffic and up the steps of my apartment building. To my left is the beach market. To my right is the last vacant lot in Mission Beach. I stand my board in the corner of my studio and give it a quick wipe with a towel. and jump in the shower and peel out of my wet suit. I hang it from my bathroom window like a trophy.

Sitting on my bed I lower my head and a stream of salt water runs from my nose to the floor. For some reason I always find this evacuation to be gratifying. A voice in my head says I should examine why the salt water is running down a hose that looks like it's attached to a vacuum cleaner. One of those ribbed hoses. It's clear. Fluid seems to be shooting up the inside in smaller hoses.

"What is this?" I say aloud.

"Come now" says a voice.

"What's going on here?"

"You've been gone awhile."

"No I haven't. I just sat down"

I look down and all I can see is this white hose leading into whiteness and then disappearing. I feel panic an nausea at the same time. I hear footsteps echoing on hard floor and glass against glass.

"Where am I?"

"You've been falling to pieces", says the voice.

"Sherri?"

Laughter echoes around the room. " She can't hear you. She went to New Jersey remember?"

"No"

"Sure, you do remember she got pregnant?"

"But I shoot blanks"

"Well yes, it was someone else's."

"She never believed you. She thought she could get pregnant and fool you. Remember."

"No, I just went surfing"

"No you have a hose attached to your medulla oblongata which is essentially an artificial spine. Congratulations on being awake."

"I'm still wet, I can taste salt water... just now I..."

"No you haven't surfed in years. You started to fall apart remember?"

"Who are you?"

"First was your right arm. You started to lose...or rather it was your little finger of your right hand...you lost movement. Then you lost your arm. A pain in your bone remember?

"Sherri", I scream.

"She is definitely not going to hear you. Judging from what we know, apparently you left her standing in a phone booth while she was having a bad trip on LSD and then you called the ambulance and they took her to jail for being suicidal and then you disowned her...something about liking white curtains or sunshine...or something...and she felt so sad that she moved to New Jersey. She got pregnant and came back and you would not even say hello when she banged on your door. Then she went back to New Jersey and married someone she did not love...and eventually died of a broken heart."

"She was a girl I dated once, or am dating now... what year is this?"

"Well memories of her have woke you up, so she must have been more than that."

"What happened to me?"

"Well as I said, you started to fall to pieces. You bent your little finger, and then the whole system started to just sort of get screwed up."

Suddenly a sharp pain ran down my right arm. It felt deep to the bone and I grabbed my arm with my left hand screaming. I felt like I was going to fall to the floor. The fluids began to speed up in the tube.

"Oh goodness don't worry about that. You just think it's your arm. Just memory, I assure you all of your nerve endings are simply dummy receptors on the other end. We've tried to end these sensations of limbs, especially painful ones."

My head swam.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Who are you?"

"I am the agent assigned to you."

"What kind of agent?"

"A government agent of course. Have you ever belonged to the communist party of the United States? Well let me help you, we know that you were a registered party member at one point, you had a card..."

"I just did that as a joke"

"You delivered the newspaper for them. Bundles. you wrote for them."

"I wrote them a letter"

"They printed it. Well part of it. Evidently it was rambling."

"What year is this? What happened after my arm?"

A huge blurry nose came out of the vast whiteness and touched mine. I could feel hot medicine breath enter my nostrils.

"Listen, I think I should be asking the questions."

"What's happening here?"

"Okay well anyway you continued to fall to pieces bit by bit and now here you are. You are a head with a hose attached to it and you have some bad memories evidently, and one string of your memories is of interest to us."

"I Must be dreaming. This is a nightmare."

"I tell you what, I will let you bounce around a bit in that head of yours. I'll be back when I think you have a bit more control of your thoughts."

 I raise my head and stand up. I look at my feet. I open the door and walk outside. The sun is high in the sky. Across the alley on the opposite balcony two young men wave hello.  At the bottom of the stair well next to the beach market the phone booth is empty.

I flex all my fingers. My little finger on my right hand is stiff. I can't remember Sherri's last name. Guilt is eating me up inside.

39. First Letter From Captivity: June 2009

Dear Captain,

You have asked me to give you the details of my life. You have specific questions related to the facts surrounding my two sets of genitalia. I have one complete male set with a fully functional appendage, and a female set. Both sets contain all the requisite parts, and I am fertile in both directions. Meaning that I am capable of impregnating someone, and I also am capable of being impregnated.


My mother was advised shortly after my birth that I should become a female, and have the male organs removed. It would have been easier to remove the male organs than to have a full hysterectomy which the Doctors considered to be a more dangerous operation for an infant. My mother not wishing to interfere with the natural processes of my living decided not to have the operation. She has told me that it was not that she wished for me to remain a hermaphrodite, but rather it was only that she was not certain if I should be a boy or a girl. She thought that it was best if I was allowed to mature a bit so she could watch, and see if I would show male or female personality traits. I am eternally grateful to my mother for her decision. Before I can answer your other questions I will give you an overview of how it is that I function.


I am not alone as you know. There are many more like me. More are being born all the time. Our highest numbers are in the so called third world countries. The reason for this is that villages, and slums are less likely to have doctors present. Midwives often will hide our births, and thus we are able to survive. In first world countries, as you know, operations are usually conducted at birth which are hideous in their barbarity. Doctors typically will force mothers to make a choice, and then the child is butchered of it's natural organs so that it can appear to be normal. I wish again to acknowledge my mother for rescuing me from such a fate.


Because it is now the 21st century, and we are in the information age, those of us who are survivors are now for the first time able to network with each other using the Internet. Through this process we have been able to track our numbers, and also to track our abilities, and character traits. We are different from you in many ways. Not just the overt physical characteristics, but in other ways as well. We are able for example, to change our appearance. To choose if we wish to appear physically as a man or woman. We don't do this instantly. If we wish to change we go into a sort of dormancy or mini hibernation. Like when a snake is changing skin for example. The original slang term used in English for this was becoming a couch potato. The term has stuck, and regardless of the language the slang has become simply Potato.


For example, let's say I am currently showing the appearance of a man, and wish to become a woman. I simple would lay around the house for a couple of weeks. During this time, as a potato, I can gradually change my hormonal levels at will. My facial hair falls out. My skin becomes soft. My breasts will grow. Most of us have rather small breasts, but there are exceptions. Even body shape will gradually change. For example, fat and muscle tissue is lost or gained. We all tend to begin rather mid range. Think for example, of the androgynous Rock and Roll singers you may have admired. We have that androgyny to begin with, and simply amplify in either direction as we want. This tends to happen as our love interests change.


We can become attracted to men or women, and change to fit the current desire. We may also change to suit what we believe may be the desires of a potential mate. We are not limited to heterosexual couplings. For example, I may become a male to suit a potential homosexual suitor if it is my desire. I may become female to attract a lesbian. When I say male or female I am speaking of appearances. The genitalia always remain the same within the parameters of what you would call normal. If in the female mode as we tend to call it, then my penis tends to be small, and as dormant as is all the male aspects of me. The other case leaves me with an enlarged penis, and my vagina wanting to stay closed. My urine flow is through the male appendage. Anal sex is simply a matter of choice for us, and has little to do with anything other than personal desire for pleasure (or denial of pain) depending on preference.


Some of us prefer to remain fairly obviously as male or female in outward appearance for extended periods, while others like to play off androgynous aspects, and remain somewhat neutral. I said earlier that all of my parts are intact, and we are all capable of reproducing. If we mate with each other we are capable of reproducing twice as fast as you. We can get our mate pregnant while we are pregnant.


We know no bounds to our sexuality, and tend to like to live communally. Raising our young in this manner is natural for us. We may live six or eight together. We couple off in all sorts of ways, and move between partners quite easily when we do so. There are families in the favelas of Rio in Brazil that I have heard have eighty to ninety children. We maintain the same sexual taboos that you do in regard to incest or pedophilia.


In the United States, and other Western countries we are careful. My being here is not the first time I have heard rumours of abductions of our kind. We never had evidence until recently, but because we are harder to find in the west we long suspected that forces were at work that upset the natural balance. For this reason we have attempted to remain underground for so long.


Aside from our abilities to morph into male or female appearance over a period of a a couple of weeks, we also have the ability to have rapid changes in body chemistry to suit our mood or sexual appetites. For example we can activate sensitivity to our genitalia instantly. We can change our vocal patterns rapidly male to female or opposite. We also can rapidly change the way we move to suit male or female patterns of feminine or masculine. We have also found these abilities to be useful to our survival. Their are breaks in normal patterns that confuse your kind as your senses do not expect them.

We are not sure why we have come into being. We are sure that our numbers are on the rise. While we can not prove any reason for this we have come to believe that climate change is the reason. We have no scientific studies. We do know that in reptiles worldwide there have been increases in births with malformed genitalia or hermaphrodites. In reptiles though they are losing the ability to breed. In our case, the ability to breed has obviously increased. There is apparently great dominance in our genes. If we mate with one of you the child born will be one of us. If we mate with each other the result is the same. In the West must be careful. We fear doctors for obvious reasons.


Even though we can't prove why our numbers may be rising we have all come to believe that we are the next phase or new generation of mankind. We are aware that you have begun to think of us in terms of a threat. The feeling is mutual. I am assuming I am not the only one of us being kept as a lab rat. I find no reason for me to be held here against my will. I ask that you assist in my release, and do not put any of my family through any of the torment which you have put me through under your hands. We do consider ourselves, and your kind as well to be human beings.

Finally, we are very complex creatures. I have left out much of our behavior, and physicality. Natural breeding overtime will leave us the dominant species. We are peaceful. If you stop trying to cut the natural organs from our young and end your programs of sterilization - yes we are very aware - then there is no reason we cannot live in peace. Over time measured in generations you will be like us. There is no reason to fight what is inevitable.

Yours in the name of the unknown Creator, and all of our Prophets who preach loudly in human voices the denial of mythology that falls outside of known scientific truths; in Love, and in the best interests of the future which is ours.

Sincerely,

Jack

38. How To Score: 2009

"Mr O'Daniels, what exactly are you doing here?"

"I don't want to be out there anymore."

"Out where?"

"Outside of this hospital."

"Well we can't keep you here."

"Why not?"

"We don't have a reason to."

"I'm dangerous."

"To who?"

"To myself. To everyone."

"That's not what your test scores say."

"What do the test scores say?"

"They say you are narcissistic, and obsessive compulsive."

"So I can't be self centered thorough and dangerous?"

"You're not dangerous."

"What if I picked up my chair, and hit you over the head with it?"

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"What if I don't?"

"I'll call the police."

"They'll hold me for one day. I'll come back."

"I'll call them again."

"How many times?"

"Mr. O'Daniels, really your test scores say you are doing fine. How about if I schedule you in to one of our out patient groups?"

"I Don't like people."

"Well that's a problem."

"That's what I'm trying to say."

"Why would you want to live here? In a hospital? We have people here who are seriously ill. They aren't always pleasurable to be around. Maybe you won't like it here so much."

"I feel like out there everyone has gone completely mad. For example, I don't want to use money anymore. I hate guns. I hate religion. I hate Jesus. I hate Mohammad. Well I don't really hate them because they're dead. I hate the people who follow them. I hate Moses, and his followers too. I hate the government. I hate the Military. I don't want to be part of it. They are all mad. The whole civilization is mad. Everyone is killing everybody else. It's an epidemic. We are even killing the whole damn earth now. So let me out of it. I want to live here."

"What would you do in here? Don't you want to be productive?

"You can medicate me with expensive drugs. The Government can pay for it. The drug companies will love it. They can use me as a guinea pig. Just keep me dosed out of my brain all day and all night. Sit me in a corner to drool."

"Look, you just need a job."

"No I don't want to be part of it."

"Of what?"

"All of it."

"So you want to drool all day?"

"Do you know they are making seeds now that don't produce seed?"

"Yes I Know."

"Do you know the frogs are leaving?"

"Where are they going?"

"I don't know. The bee's are leaving too."

"This still isn't a reason for you to live in a hospital."

"Do you know the United States has over seven hundred military bases all around the world. Huge cities they are every where and no one even questions what the fuck they are they're for. I mean who are we going to fight?"

"Mr. O'Daniels please don't cuss at me."

"Are you religious?"

"Yes"

"And you're a Doctor? You see what I mean?

"What do you mean?

"You're crazy too."

"This isn't going anywhere. I think you should leave."

"Oh I've offended your religious sensibilities now have I?

"No I'm not offended."

"And you're a liar too. All of you are liars."

"So are you going to sit here an insult me all day?"

"Are you offended?"

"No"

"Liar. Do you know that the first School shooting was in 1764 and then the next one was in 1966."

"So..."

"So after 1966 there have been fifty eight more. All in the United States. Ha ha shit, there was nine of them last year alone."

"Is this going to go somewhere?

"Where the fuck do you need it to go? Don't you feel a sense of panic? I sure do. I don't want to be out there any more. Just give me the drugs. Make me drool."

"I'm sorry. I don't have any drugs for you."

"Oh yeah you do. You have plenty. I just didn't ask you the right way."

"I just told you no."

" A chunk of ice the size of Manhattan fell off the Northern Ice shelf up in Canada somewhere. They said they were shocked. It's a record."

"Yes I suppose it's a reason for concern."

"A reason for concern? You are kidding me right? I feel terror. How come you don't feel the same terror I feel Doctor? You know I talk to people all the time who laugh at me when I tell them that story. Like I made it up or something."

"Well maybe you keep the wrong company."

"I don't keep any company. I just bump into people sometimes and I tell them all this shit and they just laugh and walk away from me. They think I'm crazy. So that's why I'm here."

"I thought you are here because you are dangerous?"

"Well the next time someone laughs at me like that I am going to grab them by the skull and squeeze their brain until the fucking jello comes out. The jello and the corn syrup, and the text messages, and..."

"I get the idea."

"You get what idea?"

"I understand you are unhappy that no one seems to notice the things that are important to you."

"Important to me? Do I sound like I'm talking about my feelings of inadequacy or loneliness? We got the whole damn Army chasing after a bogey man who lives in a cave. The reserves - the State guard - guys are on their third tour - chasing a guy in a cave - we destroyed Hitler's army - were chasing a bogey man in a cave. Are you kidding me? Am I the only one who is watching this shit? The soviets are gone man, and were still building more and more. We kill a hundred civilians in a clip - oops - who gives a fuck right? Okay sorry let me quiet down a second. Can you just give me something? If I can't stay here can you give me some Valium or something?"

"Can I trust that you will take your medication?"

"Of course. I must be at least as crazy as the other sixty seven million Americans who take Anti-Depressants. Everyone is crazy out there. I'm telling you the truth. Of course you know that already."

"Okay I'm going to give you a mild Anti-depressant. I'm going to want you to come back here in one month to let me know how you feel."

"I'm not leaving"

"Mary, can you call security to escort Mr O'Daniels out please."

"I was hoping for something much stronger than this. Do you have any idea what's going to happen to the temperature of Africa in the next few years. Do you have any idea what that's going to do to their crop yields?"

"Goodbye Mr. O'Daniels."

"Did you know in the ocean fish are showing up where they're not supposed to be?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. You tell me Doc."

"Thank you Mr. O'Daniels. Goodbye."

"Thanks for the drugs Doc."

All Content Property of Ron Andrew O'Daniels

37. Carmen In Orange County: 2000

My right arm kept Carmen from hitting the dash as I braked. Gravel smacked the car on all sides. I let off the brake, clutched, downshifted. Hit the gas, and spun from the gravel back in to the wet black shine of the Santa Ana Freeway. I had slowed to about sixty now. Sideways. We continued across the lanes, and I saw the guard rail getting closer. I pushed on the gas swung around, and now was looking at the other guard rail. Wow this was one hell of a controlled slide. Shit. Finally we stopped on in the middle lane looking toward the oncoming traffic. Luckily at 4am there was none. I swung us to the side of the road. Not much further ahead from where it had all started. So this is how it ends. A long night.


Carmen's motel room was somewhere in the middle of cheap Orange County central. Where late in the evening Methamphetamine wafts through the air from cheap single burners perched on top of expansive sinks next to plastic cups. Fly away chemicals through broken screens. She came out to tell me to wait. "Give me a minute I got drama." Her girlfriend peeked through the curtain stone faced and violent. "Okay" I said. She was dressed real butch with long baggie shorts past her knees, and her hair pulled tight in a pony tail. An over sized t-shirt. Her make up was off. Even then she had a beauty that radiated.


I fought hard to ignore myself. I had been trying to figure her out for awhile. A few minutes later out she walked in a little black dress. Her hair also black was out free and wild. She wore classic pumps, and full giant hoop silver earrings. Her legs glistened. Her lips red with gloss. Nothing overdone. Even her walk changed into a confident strut. A small clutch in her hand. She was light skinned but Latin. Not pale; more like luminous. Her skin did not play in the sun. She opened her own door, and sat next to me. Closed the door. Put her purse in the glove box, and sighed a deep sigh. Then she looked at me and smiled. "I'm ready" she said. I smiled back, and did not say anything. We drove.


Our first stop was a party. A large gathering of several Latin families. Someone leaving town or something. Sometimes I go to the door. Sometimes I wait down the street. Depends on who called, and what they want. She went to the door on her own, and came back a few minutes later handing me $250.00. "This is going to be short. They want me to dance, and I only do privates. Keep the engine running." I had already learned from experience to follow these kinds of instructions so I did. A short ten minutes later she came out of the house with a brisk get away walk. I began to back toward her on the street, and opened the door. Five or six men streamed out of the house cussing at her in Spanish. She jumped in the car. "Go." We were moving as she slammed the door shut. Right turn. Left turn. Left turn. Right turn. I made as many turns as I could until I was going far from where I would have been expected to be if they started following.


"Fuck. I tell them all the time I don't dance man. She laughed. "Fucking scary man. She looked into the side mirror, and the rear view.


"No one's back there."


"I started to do a private show for like two of them. Then they all started opening the door. I just stopped, and said I'm out of here. You want some gum?"


The next stop was down south. In the hills somewhere. Big rustic looking dark wood house with huge windows set low from the street down a long driveway. This was another park away, and don't come to the door. As long as they know I'm out here. I stepped out of the car to stretch my legs. I was standing against the car smoking when she brought me the money. I always count. "See you soon sweetie," she said. I watched her walk down the driveway. I have never seen a walk like that again. About five minutes later she appeared in the window. Nude. She held a wine glass up high. Gracefully walking the whole length of the house toward him. I was sure she knew I was watching. Whoever he was. He must be pleased. Certainly. I had one eye open when she returned. "Hard at work?" It was forty five minutes later.


"Do you have a girlfriend?"


"No."


"What do you do for sex."


"I don't."


This was not the first time the question had been asked. Most of them try to pay using their bodies at some point. What they are really looking for is the permanence, and convenience of me. If I accept they have gained the ultimate in control. They want a daddy to love them. I always avoid this drama. I am interested more in the money. Not love. Carmen was different, for her I had real want. A famished want. She was in my head at the wrong times. She was the whore with a heart.


"So you're just the driver huh?" She smiled while she spoke. Like she had a secret.


"That's right."


This gig had been going on for four months. I worked for an agency that operated out of parking lots using cell phones. Each day I met them at a different spot to do the cash drop. Always on short notice. They were East European. That's all I knew. They were smart. Different cars, places, faces, and times. All the time. Girls came and went. They always did me straight. Cash money.


All the girls had their quirks. Some were outright prostitutes. Others soon would be. Some wanted me to stop at a gas station after every call so they could hit a bathroom, and snort speed or cocaine. Some only danced. Some only did privates - massages or rubdowns. Some more. Not my call. Some were beautiful, and some were ugly. A few scared me with their lack of self control. Some caused fights, and dragged me in. I didn't always sit in the car. Sometimes I came in the house to monitor bachelor parties. Sometimes I came in to check out the room first. With customers sometimes I was simply a confident bystander. Sometimes I was an intimidator. It's a scary world. Carmen was new. She was not like the others. She had a composure about her, and control of her world. She wanted to control me too.


The next call was around 2 A.M. We drove far south. Carmen lay against me resting upon my shoulder. She smelled nice. Like flowers. Cheap body spray I thought. I liked it just the same. All the way down to the water front. The real mansions are down here. It was new even for me to make this drive. The last house on the street, and we saw two young men standing in the drive way. I stopped a few houses short of the house, and dimmed the lights. I wanted to recheck the address. I didn't like them out in the drive way. I called in and confirmed. "What did they sound like on the phone?" An Eastern accent flatly said "Okay. They shouldn't be a problem." I swung the car around so it was pointed up the street for easy exit. They approached the car. She kept her window up, and I rolled mine down. "Go back, and wait at your house I said." I spoke the words like an order, and they obeyed.

"What are they doing milling around in the driveway?"

"They look shifty. Like plotters"

"Plotters?" She laughed. "Did you make that up?"

"Stay close to me."

They were twenty something. One was much larger than me, and both had a look I didn't like. The look of spoiled rich excess. We stepped from the car and walked toward them. The driveway led to an open three car garage under the main house. There was a door in the garage leading to the inside of the house, and another exiting outside. The garage was clean, and well lit. Bright to be exact. When I was up close I spotted them out right away. Both were very high, but without the happiness of the casual drug user. They grinded their jaws non-stop, and spoke to us with blood shot eyes of paranoia. I put them as up on speed for three or four days. Maybe more. From the tight jaws, and teeth grinding probably a few hits of e thrown in which failed to do anything except add to their over driving motors. They were on a train that was driving them into a black hole. Like it eventually does to everyone. I didn't like the way they couldn't smile. They just looked bad. Souless.


They looked Carmen up and down approvingly, and maliciously. They licked dry lips, and tugged their crotches.

"Well what do we do now," the bigger one said. I quickly labeled him as Fat Face.

"First of all, which one of you made the call?


"I Did" said Fat face.


"I need to verify your ID."


I don't normally verify anything, but I was on a roll now so I decided I would keep going, and get the money sorted. I already figured chances were that this was not going to happen to plan. We spent an hour driving down here.

"I need Two hundred, and fifty Dollars," I said.

"The guy on the phone said one seventy five." Again, Fat face was talking.

"No he said two fifty, and you're wasting my time."

The smaller one, pock marked and pallid, started to close the garage door. I'll call you Mr. Pimple I thought. I don't like to remember the names of people I don't want to remember. I checked the side door exit for a clear path to the driveway as the door was coming down. Satisfied, I let the door fall without a word. Fat face reluctantly handed over the money. They both grabbed at ends of a large blanket, and threw it down on the garage floor.

"What's that for?" Said Carmen.


"You can dance here." Fat Face was doing all the talking. Mr Pimple was grinding so hard it made my teeth hurt to watch him. Both were hiding something.

"In the garage? I don't dance like that, and I do private shows only."

"There's only two of us."

"Can you give us a second please." Carmen pulled me close and whispered into my ear. "What the fuck are we doing in this garage? Why aren't we going into the house?"

"I decided to ask, "Guys, what are we doing in the garage?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean why aren't we going into the house?"


"...and what do you think he's going to do with that camera?" Said Carmen, pointing at Mr Pimple who was now sitting on a lawn chair with a monstrous video camera between his legs.


"That's it. I'm outta here."


"Were leaving now guys. You broke the rules."


They both jumped to block our paths. The Fat Face now obviously agitated.


"We need our Two hundred and fifty bucks back before you even think about going anywhere."


I motioned for Carmen to keep walking up the driveway toward the car but Mr. Pimple jumped in front of her. Bad move. Women in this line of work have short fuses. She grabbed him by the shirt, and flung him like he was laundry out of her way. I watched to see his reaction, but he stood where he was waiting for some kind of sign from Fat Face on what to do now. Fat Face stepped closer to me not letting me follow. I looked into his eyes. I'll deflect this one, I thought. No sense leaving a bloody scene.


"You aren't leaving with my money."


"When I finish speaking I am going to politely step around you, and start walking toward my car. Then we're going to get in our car, and leave. You've wasted our time down here long enough, and we don't give refunds. You paid for the girls time, and had her time so we are leaving. You are welcome to call the agency, but let's not make this a violent situation. That's it we're done"


"I'm going to call the cops"


"I know every cop in this County. As soon as they show up they're going to take you, and your little tweaker friend to jail. So call 'em if you like."


Of course I don't know any cops, but it sounded good. I started walking up the driveway. He was confused now. They stood mumbling to each other. I joined her in the car.


"Jesus, you almost put that guy on the ground."


"I'm telling you. Seriously let's get out of here these guys creep me out."


"The big guy is on his cell phone."


"What do you think he's saying?"


"Well it's either he's calling the agency or he's trying to call for reinforcements. Either way we're outta here."

"They're punks" she said. Carmen rested her palm on my thigh as she looked back between the seats through the rear window.

"Yeah, but they've been awake for days. They're not thinking straight." I was thinking about other times I had run in to the judgement impaired. I bounced old names, and faces through my head. They all ended badly. I wondered if I was ignoring the happy endings. I thought it through again; there weren't any.

We were heading north in a light mist. I watched the wipers through my tired eyes. She lay with her back against the door, and her legs across my lap. I had one hand on the wheel and the other lightly floated across her ankles, and calves as she slept with a contented look of peace on her face. I felt privileged. Like she felt safe with me. I wondered what it would be like to wake up with her. To run my fingers through her black hair and kiss her awake. A normal life. I laughed to myself. Would I aways have to be her driver? I wondered what else she could do besides rub downs, and masturbation shows. Would she content herself to be a bank teller somewhere or go to school to learn nursing or something? Could we be regular folks?

The first shot was an announcement. It said "hello we're here," and I sped up to about ninety, and moved to the inside lane. Carmen sat up. "What the fuck is going on." I looked to my left. I didn't recognize the face. He hung out the window with a pistol. I'm not a fan of guns so I couldn't tell you what kind. Just a pistol. He waved it crazy. Blond hair. Cropped short. Some kind of loud night club shirt like a greenish blue print. A gold chain. A watch. The gun in the right hand. In the back window Mr. Pimple. Fat Face must have stayed home I thought.

They drove to the front of me, and forced me into a gravel spill. Just my luck. A second shot came through the front windshield. Carmen slumped forward, and I pulled her back as I turned off the gravel, and out back onto the wet Santa Ana. I spun the car two times before we stopped. They were gone. I was facing the wrong direction on a long empty stretch when the car stopped. It was 4am. Carmen was slumped to the side. I drove to the side of the Freeway. The bullet hit her just above her hair line. It had gone through the windshield, and made one of those classic bullet holes. Just a hole with some spider web around it. I kept thinking in terms of that hole. Like it wasn't right. She can't be dead because the windshield didn't shatter. The science was wrong. Funny how your mind works sometimes. I couldn't call the police. I could leave her, and call anonymously I thought. Maybe. I drove off the freeway, and drove around a Walmart parking lot twice just trying to think things through. Her body slumped in the seat. There was almost no blood. Just a little hole. I stopped the car. She glowed under the giant super store parking lot lights. The emptiness was heavy. I literally felt the black sky falling on me.

"Okay Carmen," I said. "Let's go get our revenge."

I headed South again. It was 420 A.M.

All Content Property of Ron Andrew O'Daniels

36. The secret Life and Times of Jesus: 2000 Years Ago.

Mary picked herself up from the dirt, and ran from the darkness. She reached for the wetness, and found it to be blood. She fell. Again she ran. Tears mixed with dirt on her face. His stink still upon her. More tears. Falling in the woman's arms she wept more. Convulsing uncontrollably. She turned her head and vomited to the ground, and the tears still streamed. She choked on dust. She could not speak. Days past. Then weeks.

"I am with child. I will be cast out."

"Have no fear child said her Mother. It is God that grows the child in your womb. He will grow to be a man of great strength. He will be a son of God."

Joseph a good man heard of Mary. He loved her, and took her as his wife. They moved to a new town.

Once Jesus went to the spring, and saw a man laying on a mat by the water. "Why are you laying here" said Jesus. "My Spirit is broken" said the man. "I have been laying here a long time looking to be healed. Get up said Jesus.

"You are well. Just believe it."

"I am?" said the man.

"Yeah man"

"Don't let anyone get you down."

"Who are you?"

"I'm a child of God. Just like you."

"What is God?"

"I really don't know. I only know I exist, and I'm happy to be here."

"Very cool"

"You don't need to know anything else really, do you?"

"No not really."

"Good go live your life."

The Priests heard what Jesus said. They didn't like it, so they had Jesus brought before them.

"Jesus," they said. "You are interfering with our whole operation. If you don't stop we will take you to the Governor."

"Stop what?"

"All the son's of God stuff. It doesn't fall in line with what we have written down."

They sent Jesus to the Governor. "I wash my hands of this whole mess, but I need tax money to come in so I can't let you go man."

They crucified Jesus on a cross. He died. It was a painfully slow agonizing death. Most painful for his mother. Watching men kill her son was the second violation she had suffered from the hands of wicked men. The followers of Jesus took the body away, and placed it in a grave.

Later his followers produced copies of his words and passed them around. "Jesus lives," they said. You can kill the body of a man, but you can't kill his spirit. These are some more secret sayings about Jesus:

When Jesus shows up at a party expect the wine to show up with him.

Jesus went to a gathering with only 12 loaves of bread. Everyone shared equally to make sure everyone got a chance to eat. He did the same thing with fish. Jesus was all about everyone getting something to eat.

Once a whore was being beaten in front of Jesus, and he said "why don't you go after her pimp?"

Once Jesus held up a coin and said, "Do you see who's picture is on this coin?" Everyone said yes it's Caesar. Jesus said, "that's right, so give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar."

Someone stood up and said, "Jesus I'm not really sure what you mean. Do you mean in the literal sense to give our money over to Caesar, or just figuratively like we should not covet too much money, or rather keep our hearts for God, but still use money, or what exactly do you mean?"

Finally Jesus got all pissed off, and he said "Look, money sucks, and really doesn't fit into the kind of world I would envision as a utopia. Do you follow me? I mean if we are sharing everything; food, clothing, and everything. Then what do you need money for anyway? Oh and one more thing. Don't try to equate me with Joseph Stalin, because it's a seriously flawed argument."

Jesus said, "blessed are the peace makers for they will inherit the earth."

Someone raised their hand and said "well what if someone has something I desperately need to run my economy. Let's say for example that I needed this to maintain my lifestyle. Nothing too fancy. Let's just suppose I wanted to have three houses, and five cars, and I wanted enough to travel around the world year round, and live in plush comfort. What if someone else had a substance I needed, and would not give it to me at the price I wanted. I mean shouldn't I be able to go, and take it. I mean, say I tried peaceful means first, and then this person said no "I am not going to share with you." I mean if he isn't sharing shouldn't I be able to go in, and take what I need to continue to live a good life style?"

Jesus looked up at the sky for a moment. Then down at the ground. He picked up a stick, and drew some lines. Then he flung the stick in the direction of the man who asked the question. The guy had to jump out of the way real quick so he wouldn't get hit.

"Look" said Jesus "why don't I just walk over to you, and take your bag of money so I can have a better life style. I mean why not?"

'That would be stealing" said the man.

"You took someones labor, and resold it. You kept all the proceeds for yourself because you are at an unequal advantage over the man who gave you that labor. You sir, are the thief. The man worked all day for you. So that you could sell his fruits, and keep almost all the money. He sleeps in a slum on the outskirts of town, and you live in a mansion with servants and a huge mega yacht. Now I ask you is that fair? What exactly did you do for the money? Nothing. As a matter of fact you don't even care if he has running water in his house do you?"

"Well not really" said the man.

"No" said Jesus, "not only are you not giving up the coin like I suggested that you do, but instead you're using it to build up an army of thugs that you use against this little guy if he doesn't sell you his stuff at a price next to nothing. You know why? Because you want to live in a mansion, and drive a Hummer around don't you?" The man just got mad at Jesus and walked off.

Then another man raised his hand "but Jesus if the man in the slum wants me to give up my purse to him isn't he robbing me? I mean I work very hard for this purse.. and..."

Jesus, totally exasperated cut him off, "no you greedy little maggot. You have all of your money because of him. You have your education because of him. You are able to have leisure time to put toward creative endeavours because of him. You go to the lake, and drive your motor boat because of him. You send your kids to the best schools in the best shoes with special inflatable compartments because of him. Now you are telling me you don't want him to be able to go to a hospital when he's sick, or put his own kids in a school. He lives in a dump for crying out loud. I swear to God you people make me sick."

These are a few of the secret sayings of Jesus.

All content Property of Ron Andrew O'Daniels