Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Chapter 6

Hi and Bee could not contain their excitement. Ruben Beardsley, one of their long lost high school friends, had called asking permission to visit, of course being eagerly obliged. Ruben had become impresario--writer-actor-chief cook and bottle washer and psychological-hand-holder to a small troupe of actors and actresses. They worked wherever they were allowed, putting on stage shows and making films, some for hire and some self-produced, the latter category being their elusive road to the stars. More than two decades of life on the road had left them with little more than a name known as “competent” to the few interested in populating their own visions, a bevy of plays and films nobody had seen and a passive-aggressive desire to hit it big, coupled with an intense disdain for commerciality which indicated that if they were to “hit it big” that would be the day their work became banal. And they were tired.

Hi and Bee attempted to prepare the kids for something that could be mundane, but also might be unusual, realizing that was a highly difficult task, while nervously trying to stress proper

“manners” if the kids saw or heard something they considered inane.

Posie asked; “Will we be required to sit through any of their productions?”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 61

In a high pitched voice Bee said; “Your value-heavy phraseology will not be tolerated. If we are fortunate we may be blessed with some of their fine work.”

Posie turned from Bee and looked at Kale with raised eyebrows.

Kale remained grim faced and asked; “Do they have more similarities to Altman or Corman?”

Posie smiled in a vindicated way.

Wellborn knew Kale was treading on thin ice (Not as in

“Tenth of December”) but he considered it deftly done and therefore not meritorious of chastisement. He answered; “They were a rather heterogeneous group, and I haven’t any idea what they’ve doing the past few years. Could be Newman for all I know.” He flashed a grin. “I’ve told Mr. Beardsley that my children are well educated in the arts, and he is looking forward to receiving youthful assessments. A film’s financial success is largely dependent on the reaction of teenage boys, as absurd as that may sound. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me.”

The duplicitous meaning was well taken. Kale and Otis smiled; Amber, Tory and Posie remained stone-faced; but Arthur’s feathers were ruffled and he was compelled to blurt out; “The old has no choice but to make room for the new.”

Not the least bit startled by the well-worn axiom, Hi calmly said; “That’s the way it has always been and always will

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 62

be. I guess I’m just a bit disappointed that in previous generations the young showed competence BEFORE taking over.”

Arthur was still unsettled and much too directly said; “Do you consider me incompetent?”

With a lilt possibly masking sarcasm, Hi said; “Of course not. I’m referring to the unthinking crazies I read of in Time Magazine.”

Bee laughed and was soon joined by everyone but red-faced, serious Arthur, who contented himself busily brushing blunt the lack of wrinkles on his up-to-the-neck, bogus, Beach Boys, blue, button-down.

Amber flipped her hair and over-dramatically said; “I am destined to be an actress. There is no time. There is no place.

....... I may consider leaving with them.”

Tory seemed entirely rational when she followed with; “I’ve always been more attracted to the editing end of the business.

The directors, actors and actresses receive all the glory, but without good cutting the audience would soon see the unsightly blemishes.”

Amber thought this was an overly obvious reference to the small car-crash scar on her upper left thigh, with which she was extremely sensitive. In actuality, the rather innocuous two inch red line was of importance to no one except Amber. Her eyes shot

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 63

daggers in Tory’s direction and she sarcastically responded;

“Why is it that editing fascinates the best looking women?”

Bee stepped in with a reproving look to both and said;

“Cattiness is reprehensible and only results in the laughter of certain males. I will have none of it in my house.”

Amber and Tory simultaneously opened their mouths, intending some protestation of their guilt. Bee cut in with; “I didn’t make any accusations. Consider my statement a disordered interjection of an item of importance to me.”

Otis said; “Get thee to a nunnery,“ and received guffaws from Hi and Bee and mild amusement from the others, predominately for his timing.

Late afternoon brought a driveway rumble as four vintage foreign mini sports cars sputtered toward the house; an Aston Martin, an Alfa Romeo and two Fiats. Hi and Bee trotted to greet them, while the kids huddled on the porch, noses wrinkled, evaluating the change in air quality produced by the exhaust spouting dwarfs of the highway. Hi hugged Ruben and asked him when he would get an efficient American car. Ruben made no response and introduced his fellow travelers.

Exiting Ruben’s Fiat was a thirtyish woman who apparently had a fascination with makeup artistry, as there was not one part of her face which exposed natural skin. Ruben referred to

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 64

Katharine (not Kathy) Oxford as his “leading lady” as she carefully and reservedly approached Hi and Bee, offering tepid embraces. She fanned herself waving her left hand, a reference to her intolerance of the late day summer heat (and perhaps its drying effects) and walked to the porch shade, joining the kids.

As she posed in expectation of admiration, Posie stared at the untraditional use of mascara on Katharine’s mask and the bizarre patterns unnerved her, subliminally reminding her of the Wicked Witch of the West. Kale sensed something was wrong and squeezed her hand, which was well noticed by Katharine, who boldly said;

“Special friends?” While not receiving any answer she took in their bodies, moving her eyes in such a way that her appearance further unsettled Posie, who went back inside the house.

Katharine basked in the glory of answering questions about her favorite roles, films and plays by giving unnecessarily lengthy answers, as she was certain that she must establish context to people who have not seen or heard of any of her defining performances. She also greatly relished being the center of attention. For the moment she was able to forget that the primary reason she was there was that her freaky appearance turned on Ruben. Kale showed his opinion by walking back into the house to find Posie in the middle of one of her run on sentences.

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 65

Margarita Valenciaga left her Alfa Romeo, shaking her long, curly, black hair as a seeming greeting to the heat. Her olive skin bore no “enhancements” other than a genuine smile in recognition of having reached her destination and finding it emboldening, in its display of parental affection and many shy kids.

Jonathan Brakeswater made a production of leaving his Aston Martin, enjoying the silliness he exhibited in his English gentry’s campaign posture, wearing short khaki pants, a white cotton shirt and a plaid beret, topped by a pith helmet. In actuality he grew up in Brooklyn and would not be able to locate Johannesburg on a map, even if aided by Google.

Luc and Sandrine Malaire remained seated in the other Fiat, voices contained and hand gestures virulent, superficially having some sort of a tiff. Noticing that the other party members were introduced, they cleared their throats and exited,

“ironing” their static charged clothing with both hands. Their proper attention to public civility was endemic of their Montreaux upbringing, while their private games of abandon probably stemmed from summers spent at Beziers in le Midi.

The group brunched from tables brought to the center hall, some sitting on the inadequate amount of chairs brought in for the showing. Posie felt uncomfortable near Katharine and tried

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 66

to position herself as far from her as possible, which served to compel Katharine to keep moving in her direction.

Ruben stood in front of the screen and announced that he would be showing a film oriented specifically at “young people.”

The adults retired to the chairs and the children sat on the rug. Amber mumbled; “Sex and violence,” and heard a number of hearty “Yeahs” from a few of the other young people. Ruben said that he welcomed thoughts after the showing, as this was not yet

“in the can.” He walked to his chair, shutting the last remaining light in the room. The projector whirred and a severe isosceles, three dimensional triangle highlighted the dust as its images hit the screen. Credits of names now familiar to the people in the room were followed by the simple title;

“Gabrielle” in light brown.

Don burst through the front door and exuberantly yelled;

”Martha, my love. You’ll never believe what just happened!” He didn’t see his love in the living room, so he entered the master bedroom and saw her sitting up in bed reading “Through the Looking Glass.” She slowly removed her wire rimmed glasses and placed the book in her lap. She placed her bleary eyes on him, and he said; “The greatest thing just happened. I just met an angel.” He paused a second and again spoke to her incredulous face; “Well, I think she’s an angel. She didn’t actually say

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 67

that.” He sat on the bed’s edge and kissed her pink cheek as she brushed back her long gray hair, still reserving comment. He nervously added; “I should have said that I’ve met another angel. I love you, Martha.”

She warmly smiled at his jittery playfulness as she continued to get a whiff of wine. She was a bit annoyed that he had again imbibed after countless promises to the contrary. But she wasn’t surprised and thought that he had at least come up with a more inventive story. She sportively said; “Did the angel share the same bottle?”

He took her hand, his 68 year old eyes smiling into her 68

year old blue ones, and said; “No. I was finished with the bottle by the time she showed up.”

She took a hard look at the crusted mud on his beard and clothes, now flaking onto her and the bed and softly chastised him with; “Get off the bed, at least until you clean yourself up a bit.” He didn’t move quickly enough and she gave him a little push.

He said; “Sorry, I should have thought of that. I just got so excited.”

He stood up and she eyed him saying; “If it wasn’t for that ancient face and silly beard, you’d look like an eight year old who just finished skating at the local mud hole.”

“Kids still do that?”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 68

She sighed and said; “I really don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around any little kids.”

Don saw the wistfulness and felt the same way. It was 25

years since their last child left home, like his sister relocating to another part of the country. It was understandable as there weren’t many good jobs locally, but still the loud little busy kids were missed. It was so quiet now. He tried to restore the upbeat feel he just had and confidently said; “Well, you will soon be seeing more kids than ever. So start brushing up on your grand-mothering skills.”

Martha just looked at him quizzically, so he continued on;

“I know that I’ve said it before, but I’ve had my last drink.”

He saw a look of cheerful disbelief on her, so caught himself and spoke a little more precisely adding; “Well, at least my last excessive drink.” She wanted to believe that and fluttered her eyes, still a bit overwhelmed by this evening’s revelations.

Don excitedly continued; “The angel helped me. She said that instead of drinking and doing nothing other than dreaming about the past, I should do something useful today.”

“I’ll bet that’s not the first time you heard that.”

“No, it’s not. But I was so embarrassed not being able to stand up in the mud, and she was so young, it really registered this time.”

“Taking care of kids?”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 69

“Kind of. There’s lots of old discarded junk down by the river. Some of it gets dumped and some floats down from God knows where. The angel said that it would be good for everyone if I take the old toys, fix them up, and give them to the local kids.”

“That would be nice. Can you do it?”

Don furrowed both brows, looked right in her eyes, and confidently said; “Sure, I’ve been fixing up old houses all my life. I can fix anything.”

Martha reflected quickly on the accuracy of that pronouncement. She and he had lived in old fixer uppers all their married lives, including this five room adobe casita in Tedesco, New Mexico they had been occupying the last two years.

She said; “So, you’ll be doing that instead of drinking?”

He loudly answered; “Yes, starting sunrise tomorrow.” He paused, then sheepishly added; “You know, a glass or two here and there won’t hurt anything.”

Martha got up and put her arms around Don, forgetting the caked mud and said; “God bless us, baby.” They cuddled awhile, and then she cajoled; “Just one thing, honey. Don’t tell anyone else about the angel. That will be our little secret. All right?”

Just an hour earlier the situation was a bit different.

Something woke him and it wasn’t the sound of a gong. It could

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 70

have been the light snow pelting his face; it could have been the twenty-eight degree temperature; or, it could merely have been the right time to end his slumber. Don, again, found himself on his back at the edge of the Rio Grande River. Though it was undoubtedly night time he could see no moon or stars, those being obliterated by the zillions of unique delicate objects now falling to earth. Don put a stop to his musing as something much more important was facing him. He had one too many again, fell asleep, and now would have to go home and face his wife.

What could he say that hadn’t already been said? What promises could he make that weren’t already broken? What adventure story could he concoct that anyone would believe?

Maybe it would be for the best if he just stayed where he was, and patiently waited for a new thought. Bad idea; the snowflakes were accumulating on his chest length white beard, melting on his face, and running down his neck. He never minded being wet or cold, but couldn’t tolerate both conditions at the same time.

As a prelude to the task of standing, he rolled onto his belly. His ungloved hands got in push-up position, but his 68

year old body didn’t co-operate. He thought; “Oh, great. Now I’ve got mud all over both sides.” He tried again, but this time his hands slid forward, producing the same result. Worse, the mud was now in his beard. A new tactic was called for. He again

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 71

rolled onto his back and tried a sit-up. It worked! Now, could he do a leg-up? “With difficulty at best”, he laughingly thought to himself.

He bent his knees, put his hands on the ground behind him, got his butt in the air, and then another disaster; his feet slid forward. He took a break and looked around. He was ten feet from the nearest tall tree. If he could get to it, he could probably use it to pull himself up. He began slowly sliding over to it when he heard footsteps. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw her.

Her body was well dressed for early December in a bulky green jacket and heavy black pants. Her long blonde hair escaped from the brown woolen scarf wrapped around her neck and part of her face. She looked pretty and young, backlit by a now emergent full moon, but all women looked pretty and young to him at his age. He was dazzled at how the moon chose to sit right behind her head.

As he stared at her dumbfounded, she with an innocent and proper tone said; “What on earth are you trying to do?”

He thought the answer was obvious, and he was also embarrassed, so he gruffly replied; “What does it look like I’m trying to do? And, what are you doing out here alone at night?”

She shook her head from side to side and replied with a tone that suggested that she had just heard the dumbest thing,

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 72

saying; “I’m not alone. You’re here. And I suppose that either you’re trying to be a turtle, or you’re trying to stand up.”

Don thought a bit. Being a turtle might be preferable to his current state of affairs. It also sounded like it could be a lot of fun. But, he decided to keep that thought under his hat, at least for the time being, and answered; “I’m trying to get up and go home. I must have fallen asleep. Who are you, anyway?”

“My name is Gabrielle, and it looks like I’m here to help you, first, with getting on your feet.” She put her left hand on her knee, stooped a bit, and offered him her right. He grabbed onto it with both hands and tried to elevate. He slipped, but got his arms around her belly, lurched forward, and was standing. She took three small steps to retain her balance, and exhaled; “Whoompf.”

Don let go of her and said; “Sorry.”

Rather than making a standard response Gabrielle said; “You should be.”

Somewhat confused, Don blinked a few times, and said; “I beg your pardon.”

She repeated; “You should be sorry. Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself. Not to mention others you’ve touched.”

Don indignantly said; “So, I had one too many today. I don’t need a lecture about it.”

“Today, yesterday, the day before yesterday, on and on.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 73

“We’ve just met. How do you know so much about me?”

“I’ve just chosen to make my presence known to you today, but I’ve seen you countless times.”

Don felt embarrassed, uneasy, quizzical and guilty. He said; “Well, I’m not hurting anyone, but myself, and frankly, I don’t have anything else to do.”

Gabrielle raised her voice and said; “You’re hurting Martha, you self-centered so and so.” She chose not to say the word that was in her mind.

Don sighed and was silent, wondering how she knew of Martha.

Gabrielle continued in a calmer tone; “Try forgetting yourself once in a while. It’s so easy to discern the feelings of others when you do.” When Don looked at the ground she thought it was the right time to add; “And as far as having nothing else to do, didn’t you ever consider helping anyone?

Lord knows lots of people need some.”

Don said; “Nobody wants any help from me.”

“Sure they don’t. In your condition you’d give them more problems than they already had.”

“Are you from AA or something?”

“Look, Don, all I’m trying to say is that it would be nice if you considered Martha first, and there are lots of kids around here who need toys to play with. There are loads of

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 74

broken ones here. Why don’t you take them home and fix them up?

I know you can.”

Don said; “Mind if I call you Gabby?” When she laughed he added; “I think I’d like that. It’s probably healthier for me AND MARTHA, but the kids don’t come anywhere near me,”

Gabrielle said; “Now they have no reason to. Their parents probably tell them to stay away. But I assure you that if they see workable toys in your yard they will come.”

Don felt very sober, and nodded his head thinking; It’s worth a try. Martha will like it too.” He also became very conscious of being old, while someone so young had better insights. He hugged her, let go, and said; “Thanks, Gabby.”

Don started to walk home and Gabrielle went the other way.

After each took a few steps she stopped and said; “Don.” When he looked back in her direction she said; “I’m not as young as you think. Just remember to consider the other. It’s fun.” She warmly smiled, then continued on her way.

After a few steps Don thought; “She must have read my mind.” He turned around to ask her something, but she was gone.

He continued his fifteen minute walk home hearing only the flow of the river and the snowflakes settling on brown leaves.

Don was so excited that he had trouble sleeping that night.

He tossed, turned, got up for drinks of water, and generally

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 75

kept waking an annoyed Martha. When he saw the first glimmer of sunshine behind the mountain he got up for good.

He made coffee and looked out the kitchen window as he waited, and saw that last night’s snow had stopped, leaving a half inch layer; just enough to make two legged walking tricky.

After he drank a cup he decided that under the circumstances he needed a bit of fortification, and downed a small glass of red wine, hoping that Martha wouldn’t come out at that moment.

He was fortunate, felt a bit warmer, put on his heavy clothes and woolen cap, and went out into the 25 degree air. As he closed the door of the light brown adobe casita, some snow tumbled from the entrance overhang, settling on his head and shoulders. Undaunted, he continued slowly down the winding path to the river, thankful for the lack of wind, and sorry that some snow was melting on him, and running down his neck. The rabbits and squirrels scurried away when they saw him coming and hid behind cottonwood trees. They were wet and facing a more difficult day than usual, their gathering activities hindered by the snow, and now this large beast.

“Can’t you move a little more quickly!” called out one impatient bunny and the others made small click-clicks of agreement. Not to be outdone, one of the larger squirrels climbed ten feet up his tree and said; “Come on, you can do better than that.”, and his family stood on their hind legs and

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 76

shook their heads in approval. Don never had learned rabbit or squirrel talk, so he thought they were greeting him, said “Hi”, and waved to them.

“What a pleasant way to start out,” he thought, as he picked up his pace a bit. He wondered if Gabrielle was watching, hoped she was, and headed north, toward a place that seemed to attract unwanted items. It was a piece of land that jutted out into the river, and was underwater when the tide was high, and became a catching receptacle for things people threw in. He had seen it many times before, but wasn’t interested in anything there, sometimes annoyed that “slobs” couldn’t dispose of their junk properly. Today he was wishing that they threw in more, and that the precious stuff was all still there.

His lucky day continued, as when he got to the spot, it looked like it was all still there. With the rough terrain in the area, he couldn’t bring in his little red wagon, so had to carry anything back home by hand. He took a red and yellow plastic tricycle first, as it appeared not to need much, if any, repairing. He thought it was a good idea to start out slowly, at least until he had re-honed his skills.

As he walked back home with the tricycle he was unaware of the eyes on him. It wasn’t Gabrielle. It wasn’t the local squirrels or rabbits. It was the neighborhood kids, looking out their windows, wondering what Don was doing.

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 77

Don got back to his yard, went into the shed and found his old tools. Martha watched him go to work on the old tricycle and was pleased. In no time his skills came back and with the addition of a few improvised replacement parts he had a working machine. To be sure, he sat on it and pedaled around the yard.

Now the kids thought that he had really lost it.

He walked back to the Bosque devoid of human company, but in the presence of many squirrels and rabbits who sighed as they scurried out of his way. Comments of “Can’t you make up your mind?” and “He doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going,” were heard by those capable of understanding rabbit and squirrel, while Don focused on his new mission and heard click-clicks and rustling leaves. He rapidly returned with most of a small plastic sliding pond. He went to his shed, took some screws and plywood and soon he had two toys. He really wanted to take a slide, but couldn’t come anywhere near fitting.

The kids’ interest started to outweigh their fear of a nut and the boldest of them, Ramon, took a casual stroll to Don’s property line wire fence. When Don looked toward him Ramon was prepared to run while he quickly rattled; “What are you doing with those old toys?”

“I was fixing them up, but I find that I no longer fit. I guess I’ll have to give them away. Interested?”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 78

Ramon’s friends Sharon, Billy and Melissa were now two feet behind him and Melissa couldn’t contain herself and called out

“Yes,” as she had always wanted a sliding pond.

Don said; “Come on,” walked to the gate and let them in.

Through her window, Martha saw the activity and joined everyone outside. Melissa ran to the slide and climbed it, while Martha also ran to it, only for the purpose of support as it was not yet tested. Melissa said; “Whooo,” as she descended the curved slide and then prevented herself from falling forward at the end by using her hands for temporary balance.

“It worked,” cried a jubilant Don.

“It worked too well,” retorted a more cautious Martha.

“I’ll just rub it with sandpaper to slow it down,” and Don proceeded to do so.

Ramon, Sharon and Billy took turns on the tricycle.

Don happily and diligently worked on more toys and the kids made use of each, sometimes bringing them home and sometimes storing them at Don and Martha’s place.

The flurry of neighborhood activity got the attention of two old biddies (what didn’t?) who lived together in a Victorian house built around 1910 and not maintained since 1940. People stayed away as it looked like a haunted house and the occupants,

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 79

Petra and Olga, fancied wearing pointed black hats, though it was merely to cover their pointy pin heads.

They stopped the playing kids on the dirt road in front of their house and informed them that they looked ridiculous (they had the audacity) playing with inferior merchandise. They pointed out the toys’ numerous imperfections and snidely laughed in the appropriate places. Their ploy, intended to end all frivolity in their environment, worked as the kids now saw the serviceable toys as laughable junk and returned them to Don’s yard.

He was working there on a dollhouse, when he saw them angrily leave the toys, Ramon saying; “Keep your stupid junk,”

as they turned and left.

Don called out; “What’s wrong?”

Billy said; “They’re second rate.”

Sharon added; “Third or fourth.”

Melissa said; “It’s an embarrassment.”

Don was shocked.

Martha was watching and came outside to console Don. She was not shocked, but disappointed. She massaged his slumping shoulders and said; “They’ll be back,” not thinking that her momentary encouragement held much truth.

Don lost interest in the dollhouse, went inside and lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He slept and woke after dark.

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 80

He checked to see that Martha was already asleep in bed, took a bottle of wine and walked to the river; each step increasingly more of a stumble than a walk. He sat on the bank and watched the edges freeze in the dropping temperature. His head began spinning and fearful of falling in he lay on his side, snickering when he thought it possible high tide was on the way.

He heard a rustle behind him, but didn’t feel like moving until he heard Gabrielle’s voice say; “Don!”

He turned and again saw her standing with the moon behind her. He said; “Hi, Gabby. Got any more bright ideas?”

Gabrielle hesitated, finally saying; “Feeling sorry for yourself is more disgusting than making second rate toys.”

She gave him a bit of a kick in the butt and he said; “Get out of here.”

Her tone became more apologetic. She said; “All right. I admit that I made a mistake.”

“Darn right.”

“So what did it hurt? It just cost you a few days’ work.

You didn’t have anything better to do anyway.”

Don grimaced, held up his almost empty bottle and waved her away.

She said; “I admit that I got that one wrong. I haven’t been here in some time and things have certainly changed. But I have another idea.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 81

Don offered her the bottle and said; “Want a slug?”

Gabrielle said; “New times call for new solutions. I may be overstepping my bounds, but that’s my problem. One can make things materialize by truly wishing them for someone else. No one ever noticed this because they are too busy thinking about their own deficiencies, wishing things for themselves, despite the fact that it obviously doesn’t work. For some its psychiatric induced devil worship. The self, the self and the self. Just like you right now. Martha is probably worried to death about you.”

Don felt a twinge of guilt, but was far from convinced. He said; “I’ve never been to a psychiatrist.”

“Then there is hope for you. Go home and make Martha rest comfortably. Tomorrow go out and teach the kids what I’ve taught you.”

“And look like a complete fool. Show me that your ‘wisdom’

works.”

“Oh ye of little faith. All right. I’m going to wish something for you.” She closed her eyes as tightly as she could and Don stood up and went to her, thinking that she was having some sort of seizure. When Don touched her elbow Gabrielle opened her eyes widely and said; “See, you have regained your balance.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 82

Before Don could make a reply Gabrielle turned away and walked into a thicket of cottonwoods. Before disappearing she turned and said; “Just do it.”

Flabbergasted, Don walked soberly home and got into bed with Martha. She pretended to have slept through his excursion.

The next morning was particularly cold and the gray sky threatened snow. Undeterred, Don ventured into the great outdoors, while the rabbits and squirrels still remained in their bunkers. After wandering in the bleakness for a freezing hour, he saw Melissa bringing out the family garbage to a can at the road. He called to her, and though she first tried to avoid him, his persistence worked and she turned to him.

Don excitedly told her of his new “toy manufacturing method.”

Melissa was certain that he was crazy, as the kids always suspected, and took a few steps toward her house.

Don gambled and said; “I can get you a new slide.”

Still a bit frightened, but intrigued, she decided to stop and wait one minute in the frigid air. Don was nervous. He was not sure if it would work, but like Gabrielle, he closed his eyes and thought only of Melissa. It took some concentration as he had difficulty forgetting about his own potential embarrassment as well as the possibility of being some kind of

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 83

hero. He thought that his mind went blank and when he opened his eyes, Melissa was sitting at the top of a brand new slide, ready to descend. She successfully did it and laughed. Don was elated.

As he stood there and watched her slide and slide and slide, Ramon, Billy and Sharon came to investigate.

Melissa told them what Don had done, and they asked him to do the same for them. Don explained that his participation was not necessary and that it was better if they learned to do it for each other. It took some convincing, but in not too long a time the kids were materializing each other’s favorite toy, brand spanking new and top of the line.

Don got his reward in seeing them happily play as the sun burned its way through the gloomy clouds, warming the land.

However, Don was always a worrier and today was no different. Though Gabrielle had not told him, he had a fearsome thought; “What can the kids answer if asked where they got their toys? They could be accused of stealing them. If they demonstrated the truth, they ran the risk of becoming mere servants to adults demanding their own coveted wishes. And if the kids couldn’t fulfill the adults’ needs, who knows what would happen next?” Before he went home to tell Martha the exciting news he told the kids that when they were through playing that they should do the reverse process and make the

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 84

toys disappear. They could always make them materialize again, the next time they wanted to play.

The kids seemed to understand, didn’t ask any questions and said that they would do exactly that. Don went home and materialized something for Martha and she returned the favor.

The kids did as promised and things seemed to be going extremely well. Don and Martha enjoyed watching them play and the kids would show off for them doing daredevil stunts.

However, the old biddies (possibly witches) were watching events unfold. Petra and Olga took shifts at their largest window in an effort to find out the source of the largesse. With jealous, painstaking study they were correctly able to see that magic was being done, but incorrectly concluded that Don was the magician. Neither having previously been accused of having a sharp pencil they had made prior observations that the source of their house’s minimal heat came from the sun because the upper room was always warmer than the lower and that their water supply came from the rain and snow as if there were water under the ground, the earth would obviously collapse. This was fortunate for the kids, but a problem for Don.

Petra lured Don into their decaying house under the guise of Olga having been hurt. When he knelt to the still body of Olga on the floor, Petra slipped on handcuffs and the two

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 85

proceeded to tie him to a chair. They insisted that he perform his “magic” for their benefit. Don insisted that he had no

“magic” in him that everyone else doesn’t also have, and he thinks that it would be impossible to do anything for them, as that would require thinking only of them. Yuck, yuck and yuck.

When it became obvious that they were not going to release him Don made a deal. He said; “If you release me, I will produce whatever you want.” The non-magical witches had their doubts, but decided that Don was honest enough to live up to the bargain if they untied him and that there seemed no other approach to get their way.

They undid his bonds and informed him that they wanted a new Lamborghini.

Don said; “Okay,” and tried to focus only on Olga. His difficulty came from clearly seeing her steely, cold, mean eyes and the hair protruding from the warts on her face. He gave up and tried to focus on Petra, this time keeping his eyes closed.

Olga screamed when she saw a new, silver Lamborghini in their driveway.

The two took a ride through town, waving and yelling to everyone they didn’t know to make sure that they were seen in their sleek, fast, status car. Petra got it up to 120 MPH as they laughed and watched the people they thought were envious.

Paying attention to things other than driving caused Petra to

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 86

slam into a 120 foot cottonwood tree and the two mercifully died instantly.

Other would-be, non-magical witches heard various versions of the story and decided to make Don produce what they need. Don learned of this through the internet savvy kids, and it prompted him and Martha to leave.

The kids performed their magic judiciously and played on the grounds of Don’s empty house.

A five year old boy, Timmy, with multiple sclerosis, had been watching all the action from his window in the room where he had spent most of his life. He never went out and spent his days and nights with his furry white bunny, Snookers. He loved the bunny and wished that it didn’t have to spend all its time in one room like him. He knew how bad it felt and didn’t want his lifelong friend to endure the same punishment he experienced with his inability to walk and play. He cried as he looked at Snookers and wished with all his might that his only friend could have a life.

Snookers, the rabbit moved his legs and Timmy let him outside, but the boy couldn’t follow on his crutches. The puzzled rabbit spent two days near the house waiting for his friend, not understanding why he was put out. The boy saw him and wanted to chase him away so that Snookers could live a full life with the other rabbits. Timmy tried to go outside and fell

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 87

in the snow. Snookers now understood and wished that his friend, Timmy, would be well. Timmy stood and took four unsure steps, laughing and crying at the same time. Leaving the crutches in the snow, he walked the rest of the way to waiting Snookers.

They heard carolers singing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” reminding them that it was Christmas morning.

Gabrielle watched from a lofty perch in a tall oak tree and thought that it was great. She kept her horn in her back pocket.

A huge red “THE END” appeared on the screen and soon everything went dark.

Ruben walked to the screen, lights came on, and he said;

“That’s as much as we’ve completed on that one. It might be as much as we will. Thoughts?”

Arthur’s “date,” Melanie, was very interested in impressing him. She wanted a lucrative career and was interested in the business acumen she thought he had, and also liked art and was mesmerized with his knowledge of that. To her it was a perfect mix. Her demeanor was much too enthused, when she stood and blurted out; “I think it is excellent. Uplifting tales are too uncommon.”

Arthur remained on the floor and followed with; “It is much like early 1950’s fantasy film, said to be a reaction to the then played out “noir,” mixed with a well-known children’s story, ‘The Velveteen Rabbit,’ with an allusion to faith and

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 88

unfortunately God. I do find some aspects of Don and Martha’s relationship interesting as well as the suggested personal Catch-22 in their having to leave. I think this audience is a bit old for the film, with one exception.” He peered at Melanie in unhidden disdain. She was mortified, began crying and ran from the room. Arthur shrugged his shoulders and unemotionally continued; “I’m not saying that it is a failure. I’m saying that you would do better in assessing its commercial value to show it to an audience under the age of eight. Or, perhaps show it to parents, who pay for the tickets, of children under eight.”

Ruben said; “That is quite an outlook coming from someone so young. I’ll certainly keep it in mind. Are there any other thoughts?”

Silence ruled the hall as each thought that any commentary they could offer would be simplistic in comparison.

Ruben, prepared to introduce the next film, said; “Well,

......... .”

He was interrupted by Posie, who flatly said; “I just liked it. It’s warm. ………….. Wouldn’t you agree, Kale?”

Kale said; “Without a doubt.”

Arthur snorted and replied; “You two are always together.”

The hall again became silent as each thought they knew that to be true, but felt it improper to convey that, considering Arthur’s unnecessary comment more than an innocent faux pas.

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 89

Ruben seemed to detect the mood, wanted to break it and said; “This one is a bit different; a private eye story spoofing itself and other mysteries, crossed with a ‘Walter Mitty-ish lead, a laborious start, a ridiculously quick end and a small commentary on the value of mothers. We’re hoping the black and white photography attracts the art houses, as we otherwise expect the commercial value to be virtually nil, an anathema to mystery lovers.” Ruben chuckled and looked at Hi, adding; “One might ask why bother. The answer is simple. It only took two days of our time and we did think that the boilerplate mysteries deserved a bit of a chiding, not in the vein of Clousseau or Smart. I hope this one is more in line with Arthur’s discriminating palate.”

The projector did its thing and the title, “Another Crapass Mystery” followed the credits.

He ran into the library to answer the blasting phone, and was immediately reminded of his long delayed desire to have it changed over to a system which plays some type of watered down musaak; an “easy listening” nothing-ness, subdued orchestration of Jerry Lee Lewis “Great Balls of Fire” came to mind. He was so excited at the prospect of work he tripped on an edge of the Persian rug, but picked up the receiver on the sixth ring.

Afraid that he missed the call, he said; “Hello! Hello!”

The male voice responded; “Is this Mr. Crap-ass?”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 90

Peeved at hearing the incorrect pronunciation he had endured most of his life, he advertised his annoyance when he said; “That’s Cra-pass. It’s French continental.”

“Whatever, you’re a private eye, right?”

“That’s private investigator. This isn’t a 1940’s film noir or a 1950’s French New Wave adaptation.”

“What?”

Remembering that he really wanted the work Crapass said;

“Yes, I’m a private eye. What can I do for you?”

“Well, Mr. Crap-ass, one of my family members has disappeared.”

“Again that’s Cra-pass. Isn’t the police missing persons unit working on it? What would you like me to do?”

“Of course the cops have been called, but they say he hasn’t been missing long enough to warrant their involvement.

Are you being purposely difficult? I want you to find him. What do you think?”

Reticent to explain the many possible custom services that could be provided, he was quiet two seconds, during which the caller had second thoughts and offered a clarification;

“Actually, the bastard owes me money and finding it will suffice. It’s probably a package deal though.”

This was his first possible investigation and he had not yet established a routine and he was not prepared to ask any

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 91

relevant questions, so not wanting to sound stupid, Crapass said; “I think we should make an appointment to meet in person.

Bring anything relevant to the case with you, and of course some money. Let me check my schedule.” He paused and counted; one thousand and one, one thousand and two ...... one thousand and ten, in an attempt to advertise his high degree of activity. He then added; “I can fit you in at 2PM this afternoon. Is that good for you?”

“Yeah, that works for me. At your place, I guess?”

“Of course, unless you’d like to buy me lunch somewhere nice. Ha, ha.”

“No, I’ll be at your place at two.” He hung up.

It was only 9:30 AM, so it gave Gunther T. Crapass time for last-minute preparation. He needed it, as this would be his first foray into the real world of crime in a sequestered 45

year life. He belatedly realized that to appear professional he would have to take care of little details; like getting the caller’s name and phone number. Up until today Gunther had spent most of his time as a voracious reader of mysteries, and they never dealt with those kinds of boring details. They dealt with other kinds of boring details; like a wordy description of the sound of a waterfall, a precise description of the music wooden wheels make on a cobblestone street, cobble by cobble, or the perceived psychological effect all the “action” was having on a

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 92

delicate relationship with some relative, remotely and tangently connected to the “story” and it’s super-insightful and super-intelligent sleuth/hero/heroine.

For the last ten years Gunther had used his mystery books to create a data base, containing information such as crime, motive, how caught, sleuth techniques, nutty relatives, informants who know whole “story” (in case writer runs dry), usual suspects, false leads, topography, dwellings, sex activity (infrequent, always tasteful) , etc., etc. Trying to refrain from spending exorbitant time with the last item, now, using this database, Gunther wanted to spend the remainder of his, to date, sheltered life seeing if the books contained any semblance of reality.

Gunther was short, prematurely balding and devoid of female companionship, and though people didn’t tell him, they thought he resembled Don Rickles, with forty additional pounds in his belly and ass. However, he worked on affecting the look of Hercule Poirot, at least as he was portrayed on television. He thought that the quick, intelligent, sophisticated air of the little one with the upwardly curled mustache, living in the wild world of the 1920’s would counter the truth that he was more than a little embarrassed about. He considered adopting an unusual accent, but correctly concluded that approach would be of better use in Europe than it would be in Plainsboro, New

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 93

Jersey, where a simple down-homey, working hard, and “We all put on our pants the same way” approach seemed more apropos. At least that was the plan that would get its first trial today.

He sat on his ornate Chippendale chair and turned on his computer, which rested on the overworked Chippendale desk, the only furniture in the library, excepting the overflowing, highly decorative Chippendale bookcases, which lined the walls.

His ornate Chippendale ass wasn’t rested for ten seconds when the phone rang again. Drawing on his previous experience this time he was prepared. He picked up the imitation French antique receiver and confidently said; “My secretary is indisposed, so you’ve got Cra-pass, himself.”

The female voice was incredulous in tone, and said;

“Gunther, what kind of nonsense are you up to?”

He dragged out the first word; “M-o-o-o-o-m. I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“What you should be in the middle of, is finding a nice girl. You know you’re not getting any younger.”

“Mom, I’m all right as is.”

“Or even finding a nice boy. Times have changed and nobody cares about that sort of thing anymore. . . . .” Gunther was at a loss for words, as he was never interested in boys, men, or in-betweens, but knew that his single status and appearance would make people consider the possibility, and was occasionally

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 94

very uncomfortable about it, like now. This wasn’t the first time Mom broached the subject, but even if he were so disposed, he wouldn’t be discussing it with her. He attempted a quick subject change and came up with; “I saw a really good movie the other day; “The Postman Always Rings Twice.”

“What was that about?”

“Oh, it’s an old “noir” one. John Garfield playing a drifter hot for Lana Turner.”

“I don’t know any of those names you’re saying.”

Gunther was at a loss for words, trying to decide whether to sound professorial, and explain more, think of a one-liner he didn’t have, or risk getting back to his least favorite subject.

The indecision cost him as, in the momentary lull, Mom went right back to her currently favorite subject, and said; “Do you remember Tommy Long, that tall boy who played a lot of basketball?”

“Yeah, we were in some of the same classes in high school.”

‘Well, he’s one of them.”

“Mom, I don’t really care.”

“Did you know him well?”

“No, and I really don’t care.”

“That’s the point. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.

Nobody cares anymore. It’s all right. Even the Catholic Church has gay parishes. That, frankly, doesn’t make a whole lot of

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 95

sense to me. They condone that, but only allow men and women to do things that make babies. .................. Hell, I don’t know.”

Gunther’s mind was racing; perhaps it was more akin to spinning its wheels. He rubbed one hand over his forehead, of course not able to come up with anything that might derail his mother’s one tracked mind. He considered lying and saying something really gross about “getting some pussy’ recently, but decided against it.

With the lack of response Mom was compelled to elaborate;

“Of course, if your father, God rest his soul, was still alive .

. . . . Ah, but, he was always kind of traditional when it came to the sex stuff. Sometimes, even I could have kicked him right in his ass.”

Gunther felt as if he were again 13 years old, trying to think of a response, that would at least temporarily divert the tide, so he desperately and abruptly changed the subject to something of interest to him, full well knowing that this topic could also become unpleasant and said; “Mom, I’m going to be handling my first investigation today.”

Mom said; “Well, if you’re really uncomfortable talking about it.”

Gunther yelled; “Mom.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 96

In a discouraged and weary tone, Mom said; “So what are you investigating?”

Just like the confident big boy he now was, Gunther casually responded; “Oh, the usual stuff, missing money, a missing person.”

“That could be dangerous. Why don’t you read a nice book instead?”

“I’ve read them all. It’s high time I got some real world experience.”

“I’ll say. How about some real experience with a nice girl?

. . . . . “Or boy?”

“Mom, for Christ’s sake, cut it out. And what would I want with a NICE girl anyway? I like the other kind.”

“Gunther, don’t start talking blasphemy to your mother.”

“I thought you started it with that boy stuff.”

“That’s not blasphemy. There’s some other word for that. I can’t remember it right now. You know the one.”

“I can’t think of it either.”

“Oh, come on. You’re better with words than I am. What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s your thought. You tell me.”

‘I know you know that word.”

Gunther was thoroughly annoyed with the entirety of this conversation, as he had endured a facsimile countless other

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 97

times, but rather than saying something about not being a mind reader or that he didn’t care anyway, and risk being accused of being surly, he chose to play it tritely and, again, changed the subject and said; “How’s everything in Florida?”

“Hot.”

“Hot? Is that all?”

“Yeah.”

He hoped to get her talking about something other than him, and tried again with; “It’s hot here, too.” He tried his best to sound like a sarcastic Johnny Carson and added; “So, how hot is it?”

Mom took the cue and said; “It’s so hot ........ that the rubbers are emitting steam on the beach.”

Though he didn’t find that particularly funny, he considered it okay for an improvisation, and laughed outrageously, most significantly, in an attempt to end the conversation on a good note.

Encouraged, Mom continued with; “You should see the dogs doing their own form of investigation.”

Gunther visualized that and found it amusing, laughed, and said; “That’s a good one.”

“I’m not kidding. That’s what I see out my window.”

“Wish I was there. Speaking of out the window, my client is coming down the driveway. Got to go.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 98

“All right. So, everything’s okay with you?”

“Fine. How about you?”

“Ah, we’ll save that for another time. You be careful, all right?”

“Sure. You too. Gotta go. Bye.”

“Bye.”

There was no car in the driveway. That was just an efficient way to end the call. He wanted to do some last minute research before encountering his first real client. He also knew from previous experience that his mother’s “Ah, we’ll save that for another time” answer was nothing to worry about. Next call she would either not remember what she was referring to, or again, tell him about the guy living on the floor above her, and his abnormal desire to walk around loudly, always right over her head, listening to everything she said.

Back to the computer. Database program. Crime. Motive. How discovered. Unnecessary filler. Ironic conversations. Scenery and sound conditions. Weather. False leads. Man who knows all.

Gunther forgot about lunch, attempting to tie the “facts”

together. His mental indulgence ended when he heard the sound of a car truly coming down his gravel driveway. He looked up at the faux antique rococo wall clock, and saw that it was already 2PM.

“Dammit,” he thought as he dashed to don his best clean suit, a black pinstriped Mickey Spillane model. He made a quick bathroom

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 99

stop, where he brushed back what remained of his black hair, and made it to the front door ahead of his guest/customer.

He peered through the transom, and saw a modestly well-dressed man of about 40, peering through the transom at him. He felt overdressed, as the other guy was obviously wearing attire that screamed; “Money,” but whispered; “I’m not stooping to try and impress.” More specifically he was wearing designer- just pressed- blue jeans and a mail order label red shirt, open to the third button.

Gunther opened the door, extended his right hand, and said;

“Come right in Mr. . . . . .”

“Slattery, James.” They shook, in Gunther’s case all over, he hoped, undetected. The little one extended his left hand and said; “Right this way to the library.” He hoped that the mere fact that he HAD a library would impress the client with his intelligence.

He offered Slattery a seat, simultaneously realizing that it was the only one in the room. He briefly considered standing, but thought better of it. He said; “Please excuse me. The last client moved things around a bit.” He knew that didn’t make much sense, but couldn’t resist the opportunity to say that he had other business. He went into the adjoining bedroom and returned with an ornate Chippendale chair.

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 100

Slattery was fingering the computer, and Gunther quickly put his arm on his client’s shoulder, and said; “If you don’t mind,” ushering him to the newly arrived chair. He sat in front of his computer, and after a few masterful strokes, was back at his preferred database program screen. He said; “Name?”

With a tone of slight annoyance the client again said;

“Slattery, James.”

“Is Slattery your first name?”

Slattery continued in the same tone responding; “Of course not.”

“I expected that, but I had to ask because one cannot make any assumptions in this business. You’ll come to appreciate that.” He smiled at his imagined prey and added; “You know that if you break down the word ‘assume’, the result is that you make an ‘ass’ of ‘u’ and ‘me.’”

Slattery didn’t smile back and said; “Yeah, I may have heard that somewhere.”

Gunther continued; “Do you always put your last name first?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes. What difference does it make?”

“Nothing I can think of at the moment. But, who knows the future? Address?”

“500 Juniper Crescent.”

“Plainsboro?”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 101

“Apartment number 308. Missed that one, ace. And yes, Plainsboro.”

Gunther was sure his face flushed. “Phone?”

“With or without area code?”

“As you wish. I’ll make the appropriate adjustment here.”

“Good man. 237-6567.”

Gunther looked Slattery in the eye and said; “I believe you said something about missing money and a missing relative, the latter of subordinate interest. Would you please elaborate.”

“Well, about a week ago I tried to contact my bum brother-in-law, Bernie. And I couldn’t.”

Gunther interrupted and said; “Think I got you this time, ace. Bernie’s last name is not Slattery, correct?”

“Right, genius. It’s Protokowitz. Anyway, I made the mistake of loaning him $300,000 a little over a year ago, haven’t gotten a nickel back, and now he’s nowhere to be found.”

“What was the purpose of the loan?”

“I’m really not completely sure. I felt sorry for him at the time. I think it was used to do some drug deals.”

“Did he have experience with that sort of thing?”

“Only as a user, I think.”

“Very unwise.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Let me just continue the story a bit.”

“My sincere apologies for the interruption.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 102

“The other disturbing thing is that Gladys, Bernie’s wife, is also nowhere to be found.”

“Your sister is probably with Bernie.”

“I hope the hell not. They divorced a year ago. Gladys is his new wife and a drug fiend. Gotcha.”

“Very amusing, my friend. I see we enjoy a similar brand of gamesmanship.”

“Thought you’d appreciate that one.” Slattery emptied a pocket and tossed some papers on the ornate Chippendale desk, and said; “Here is everyone’s addresses, phone numbers, e-mail addresses, known hangouts and some miscellaneous crap. Most interesting to Gunther was a photo of Bernie and some woman, as Bernie looked like Gunther’s double. The only significant difference was that Bernie’s balding head was host to long black hair tied in a ponytail which reached the middle of his back.

Not to be fooled twice with the same thing Gunther was proud of his wiles, and asked; “Is this Gladys?”

Slattery laughed and said; “No. That’s my sister Agnes.”

Gunther looked at him questioningly and Slattery added;

“Just kidding. Yes, that’s Gladys. Some shit, huh?”

Not accustomed to this manner of speech, Gunther tried to sound the part, and replied; “Yes. Really some turd.” Slattery looked at him strangely, which Gunther didn’t notice as he was eyeballing the photo of the sexy middle-aged blond, with a

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 103

crazy, large, psychedelic Star of David around her neck, bearing most of the colors of the rainbow. He asked; “Jewish?”

Slattery said; “Yeah, Protokowitz and Baumstein. She pronounces it Bowm-stine, and hates it when someone says Bomb-steen. You understand, I guess.”

Gunther cleared his throat, and said; “Now, about my fee.”

Slattery wrote a check.

Slattery silently left. Gunther thought he did pretty well for a first effort. His self-evaluation was that after a weak start segueing into an okay middle, he had a strong ending, better than most of the mysteries he had read. He sat at his computer and searched.

Owes money. Drug involvement. Divorce. Client possibly lied. Family intruder ................

Gunther didn’t find a clear course of action, so he decided to make a perilous journey into the real world, hoping that it would lead him in some direction, or at least narrow the possibilities suggested by his used IBM 360, depending on one’s viewpoint. One of Bernie’s listed hangouts was “Pete’s Paraphernalia Pub” in downtown Plainsboro, which Gunther knew well, at least from the outside, as he had passed it many times on his way to the town superstore.

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 104

He went into his mother’s former bedroom and found the black fall he remembered her wearing years prior, when she mistakenly got “modern” with a pageboy haircut. It was in one of the closets, and he used a rubber band to tie it into a ponytail, and attached it to the back of his head. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he thought; “Cool.” His suit now appeared out of place, so he changed into a pair of blue jeans that he usually wore while gardening and a Rolling Stones tee-shirt.

He jumped into his 1965, four door, almost silver, Impala.

After again admiring his new look in the rearview mirror, he felt good and confidently headed out into the sultry summer late afternoon, visualizing himself as Humphrey Bogart in “To Have and Have Not.” He got into it, turned on the tape player and blasted Chuck Berry doing “Roll Over Beethoven,” front windows wide open. Nearing his destination, he saw three pedestrian young women in tube tops, tight jeans, and high heels turn their heads in his direction. He slowed down, lowered the volume, waved and called out; “Later, girls. Got business.” As he again picked up speed and volume, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw the three look at each other, then his car, then back at each other shaking their heads. Gunther didn’t take it as any sort of rejection, and interpreted it as; “I don’t know him. Do you?” He briefly considered driving around the block for a

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 105

second viewing, but decided against it, suddenly remembering that he was Gunther Crapass, rather than James Dean.

His mind raced as he turned the corner; “Bad mindset. Got to get rid of it quickly. I’m almost there. What went wrong?

................. Started to think of reality. Got to stay in fantasy. Don’t know what I’m walking into. Could be dangerous.

Think drugs. Think money. Think bluff. Think big-tit Gladys Baumstein. Think bad-ass Bernie ....... Protocowitz? Stop thinking.”

He parked in the side lot of “Pete’s”, as far away from the entrance as possible. It was still on the early side of nightlife, he surmised, as there were only six other cars, and no doubt a few belonged to employees, while the lot had an approximate capacity of fifty or sixty. Either it was early, or Bernie was one of the few to like the place.

He walked through the paved lot and saw no one hanging around. He then focused on the building itself; one story, brick, flat roof, few windows with shades drawn, and a plain black and white wooden painted sign which said; “Pete’s Paraphernalia Pub” enclosed by a crude drawing of a twisted snake, with exaggerated fangs and tongue, eating its tail. He pushed one of the heavy, black double doors open and entered the darkness. The cooler air was his first observation, and the dim lighting suited him well. With only the slightest degree of

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 106

trepidation, he would now execute his simple plan; to say little or nothing, and hope that someone would mistake him for Bernie Protokowitz, and tell him something interesting.

He only saw one man who wore a sporty, light green vest with black pinstripes, made of some shiny plastic composite, complete with a “Pete’s” designation, in a red circle, on the rear, with his back to Gunther, squatting and meticulously putting away some glasses, behind the bar at the right of the room. Gunther slowly sauntered over, watching the barman watch him in the mirror that ran the length of it. He sat on one of the twenty high stools, picking one near the center and the squatting man, who now pretended not to notice him.

He spoke in a normal tone of voice, and said; “Hey.

Service, man.”

The squatting man slowly rose, with a threatening look on his stone face. As he walked over to Gunther he did a double take and his expression changed to a surprised smile, and the man whose nametag indicated “Tony,” said; “Bernie?”

“Yeah, man. How ‘ya been Tony?”

“All right. Where the fuck you been?”

“Here, there and everywhere. You know.”

“Hey, man, I’m like fucking desperate. You holding?”

Gunther confirmed what he already was told; Bernie was a dealer.

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 107

“No, man. That’s why I’m back here. It’s dry. Motherfuckers keep intercepting the boats. Somebody’s got to be playing both ends.”

“Ah, I hope they crucify the fuck. Well, what can I getcha?”

“The usual shit.”

Tony mixed a double Dickel and soda, and placed it in front of Gunther/Bernie.

A door to the back and side of the bar opened, and a vision appeared. It was a fortyish blond woman wearing a pink tube top and a red mini-dress. Gunther knew it had to be Gladys Baumstein when he saw the psychedelic Star of David emerge from between her breasts, dangling like a heavy bondage chain. Bernie saw her eyes staring right at his pants, and that caused him to give her a better view. He waved off Tony, and turned to the hot chick, who slowly sauntered over with her head down, and took the seat next to him at the bar. She said; “You ain’t Bernie. What game you playin’?”

Gunther got up the nerve to put his hand on her well-exposed left leg. When she made no objection he slowly slid it to the apex, and felt the humidity increase. He removed his hand, put it to his lips, and said; “Shh. It’s complicated. I’ll let you in on it little by little, Gladys.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 108

She smiled, licked her lips, carefully circling the entirety of the red painted kisser and massaged his growing interest.

After meeting the standard-mystery-story-ominous-people, including a hermit, two hopeless drunks, a crooked cop on the drug take, several would be bad asses, a penny ante drug dealer, a blind paraplegic beggar who thinks she knows everything, one legitimate bad ass, a double dealing information peddler, a deranged addict, a rich freak who likes to see “real life,” a snitch who doesn’t know his ass from his elbow, a thieving lawyer, two lesbian teenage hookers, Slattery in drag, and one boring “normal person” Gunther-Bernie wound up with Gladys and all the money. They lived happily ever after; all thanks to his mother’s fall.

“THE END” flashed on the screen and lights went on revealing many cautiously smiling faces on the verge of laughter, but which were looking to each other for approval.

Cognizant of the impasse, Hi stood, clapped his hands and said;

“Bravo, bravo maestro.” The children laughed, applauded and babbled to each other.

Not within earshot of Hi and Bee, Otis whispered; “Doesn’t give one hint of a shit.”

Amber added; “Fuck you all over.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 109

Kale smiled toward Posie and cooed; “Whatever comes to the mind.”

Arthur, the son who still thought he was fooling someone by playing “good” Abel in the context of Hi and Bee’s rules of lexicon, thought he closed the discussion with an audible, authoritative and anachronistic announcement; “Not only an amusing satire, but a biting dismissal of semi-sacred cows.”

Not to allow Arthur the last word Kale called out; “Yay for muthas.”

Receiving silence he added; “Just a goof. ...... Not as in mistake, as in making fun.”

While Bee made the faintest of smiles, Hi shot Kale a look bordering on malicious. He had two thoughts in his mind, neither benign. One was infuriation at Kale’s open use of the vernacular and the other verged on a guarded wariness, not completely coherent to him.

Posie whispered to Kale; “God help making fun.”

Lovely Summer Smoke Deluged Page 110