DESERT SNOW CH DIeuX NOT THE PREVIOUS MAN

[The Urbane Spaceman]

Sean said, “What the hell does that mean, Flower Dumal?”

Joey shook his head. He didn’t even know his own tongue, the Hispanish language.


Those bastards looked at me. What the hell? I shrugged. I said, “Hey. OK. I went to a couple of classes to learn that shexxy language. You know, to get them panties wet.”


Those other two laughed their asses off. The ZID we had in our mouths was about twenty minutes from impact. We were simply boarding the rocket ship.


I said, “It means that our new friend is not a little flower. Dudes. She is working with that Brian guy, and he is a badass. He owes her for what he carries in that case of his. Well, at least that block of cheese.”


Joey nodded. He said, “I know all of this, Urb. Brian is the dealer. He has many suppliers. But what does La Fleur Du Mal actually mean?”


I chugged my last warm beer and said, “It means that we have to go to the store and get us some booze. Now.”




Joey locked the front door while I opened up the sliding glass door to the broken patio and went out. The hot air of a bright, Fuckno day greeted me like the blast form an iron smelter. I squinted and was about to go back in and grab my eye shades when I saw that big purple-haired punk rocker standing there.


He smoked his cigarette like a man on death row, back to me, with his arm on the top of the shabby wooden fence that faced the parking lot where his hearse got stolen.


He turned around to face me like someone who expected to meet the devil, and his face was white. Well, more white than usual. I swear, I could see his veins.

Fat Jerry said, “Whoa. Where’s the biker?”


I said, “I think he forgot about you. He took off.”


Jerry said, “I heard a motorcycle leave form here a while ago. That was him, huh. Why did he take off without coming to bitch me out?”

I considered this. Maybe it was not a good idea to involve this man with our new pact. Yeah, it would not be good to say anything. So I said, “You must be forgettable. Does this news break your heart?”

Jerry looked relieved. He said, “I just need to get my ride back. I can pay him back. Where’s Sean? His girl took my hearse!”


Sean came out behind me and I turned around. I stared into his eyes and I put my finger to my lips. Sean nodded at me.

He said, “Hey there you purple-haired fuck. Give us a ride to the damned store, you lazy bastard.”


Jerry’s eyes got really big. He shouted. He said, “Fuck you! Give me my ride back!” He ran at Sean but I stood in between them two.

I shouted back at him. I said, “NO! Don’t be busting anything you assholes! For fuck’s sake Francis of Assisi! Sean, go call that Monica chick and give Jerry something to do, would ya?”


Sean put his dukes down and laughed. He said, “Yeah, all right. Damn Urb, you cuss like a nun.” He went inside and made that call on the telephony.

I turned back to Fat Jerry and I said, “Shit, that was a hell of a night. You need to find your vehicle, damn straight. You still have your money, right? You can take them busses to it when you find out where she left it.”

Jerry said, “I don’t take the fucking bus. Who do you think I am? How would that look? Me, a true punk rocker, riding a mutha fucking bus for crissakes.”

I said, “I think you are a man without his ride. Don’t tell me you are going to ride in a taxicab. That is fucking expensive.”

Jerry said, “I got friends. I’ll call my buddies and tell them to come here and pick me up.”


I growled. I shook my head at him. I said, “Don’t you ever tell anyone about this place. No fucking way. You got it?”

Jerry stood back. He said, “Holy shit Urb! Jeez! What the hell got into you? All right. I won’t. Damn. I’ll use the phone here and tell them to meet me at the corner store.”

I nodded. I said, “Hey, we’re going that way anyway. We will get some drinks. You could probably use a couple of 40’s yourself.”

Jerry nodded. He said, “Damn straight. I’m thirsty as fuck here and now.”


Sean came back out and said, “Looks like she will meet us there. I have the address written down. She has your keys.”

Jerry said, “Us? You and me?”

Sean nodded. He said, “I’m coming with you. I don’t want you to be alone with her. She’s mine. You pay for the ride, and I’ll bring you to the address.”


Jerry was all tensed up and ready to fight Sean, but his shoulders slunk back down and he nodded. He said, “OK. But you find your own way back to your place.”


Sean smiled. He said, “Monica is taking me to her place. Her family has a swimming pool. They are all gone for the week.”

Jerry’s eyes widened. He said, “House Party!”


Sean shouted. He said, “No Fucking Way.”


Joey slid the glass door closed behind him and put on his own shades. He said, “You guys all set? Let’s get some DRINK!”

With that he left us all there in the broken patio. Well, I don’t know about you mistah man, but when someone says something like that, you better scoot.


So we did.



MONDIEUXMONDIEXMONDIEXMONDIEUXMONDIEXMONDIEXMONDIEUXMONDIEXMONDIEXMONDIEUXMONDIEXMONDIEXMONDIEUXMONDIEXMONDIEXMONDIEUXMONDIEXMONDIEX





It was a beautiful day for young, invincible men to walk along the water canal behind the apartment complex. I looked down at the sunlight reflecting off the surface of the man-made river. It sparkled like broken glass on black asphalt from a car accident. I recalled the night of my first experience with ZID.


The little Lion man and I walked this exact path to the local candy store. We lied down in desert dust in the meridian in traffic. We looked up into the stars as automobiles sped pass on either side, in opposite directions, and it made our minds spin like Pluto and Charon.


There was a telephone on the outside wall of the store where Jerry would call a taxi for him and Sean.


All would be good.


The thirst for my true heart, my lovely Miss Ethyl,


…well, she sang to me in a soft, lilting tone. She beckoned me like a beacon, and not a Siren. No cause for alarm.


We walked along, and no one gave a thought about anything at all. The warm desert air kissed our cheeks like butterflies, and the ZID was saying hello. This caused my mouth to turn upward at the corners.

We walked like proper gentleman across the street at the corner. We did not race through traffic like wild men. We waited for the lights to change.

As we approached the glass doors to the store, I saw our reflection.

No one had bathed in a week.

I wore my leather that smelled like smoky pussy juice, Joey had bandages on his burnt paws, Fat Jerry wore his wet leather jacket that smelled like cow shit, and Sean was still wearing those fucking belts across his bloody/scabby chest and his legs were covered in melted thigh-high pleather boots.

We smelled like fire and death and accidents and bad dreams.

Then I remembered what Joey and I had done in this store the last time we visited. Joey had urinated all over the place while lying on his back while I threw candy everywhere to see the colors.

Now, the ZID was kicking in again as we approached.

Well, OK. Good.


Fat Jerry went to the outside telephone and put in a dime. Back then, it was the proper vernacular to answer the phone with this: “Your dime, my time.” That is form where it originated. A telephony call form a public phone cost only ten cents. No one ever washed off the receiver. Sometimes you could find it to be sticky. Sometimes you could get ear worms. I think that back then, such things made us stronger. We built up resistance to infection. Nowadays, folks use hand sanitizer on everything, and we have become weak.

Jerry ordered a cab, and Sean walked into the store. I grabbed Joey’s leather.

I said, “What if that old man is in there?”

Joey smirked. He said, “Then we learn how to swim!” He nodded at the water canal down the street. Fucking Joey. He was fearless, man.

I said, “I can taste that old familiar flavor again. ZID. This time, no pissing on the floor. No candy in the air.”


Joey said, “Aw. Where’s the fun in that?” Then he pulled the door open and walked in like a true Lion.


Well, there you go. That was Joey. That's how he was. Lion.


I left my shades on like that would make me look like some other, completely different punk asshole, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust from the blazing white sunshine outside. I saw Sean setting down six 40-ouncers on the counter and he turned around to see me. He winked, and he cracked one open and took a long haul form it.


The man behind the counter appeared to have concern. He said, “Dude! You cannot do this thing! There is none of the drinking in this establishment! Go outside to do this like the other drunks!”


My eyes adjusted further and I saw that is was not the previous man. Well, that was some relief.
But now, the ZID was roiling up inside my brain. It percolated in my nerve endings. I felt the warm body buzz that starts in the spine and then it extends down the limbs. Oh yes! And Oh no!

I immediately went to the candy isle. Oh no. Those pretty colored candy wrappers called to me, my friend.

Joey said, “Urb, come help me. I can’t hold all of these bottles.”

You know, that helped me quite a lot. I set those candy bars and bags back down in a pile on the floor, and I straightened back up like a proper gentleman, all covered in filth and explosions and death-smell, and I went to help him.

Joey held seven bottles of various color. Red wine, Orange Cointreau, Yellow Tequila, Green Midori, Blue Curacao, an Indigo bag that held Crown Royale, and Crème De Lavender.

ROYGBIV, baby.




OK, my apeologies. No, that was not the place to hold such things. Joey held as many bottles as he could carry. These were all various red wines. One of the bottles was slipping out of his greedy arms and about to crash on the floor.

You recall, form on of the previous chapters, that Joey had become infatuated with red wine all of a sudden, correct?

So I tickled his side and those bottles all smashed and then the cops came and took us to jail.



OK, wait. I think this black ink is getting ahead of me.

I helped him get to the counter with his wine pruchases. Then I went and returned to the counter with two cases of cheap ‘Murrican brewskies.



We got two cartons of ciggies and the man behind the counter was very happy to make such a great sale today.


We paid for it with the profits form the ZID sale at the burned house.


We would need a shopping cart to get this all back, but instead of that, Jerry’s taxicab arrived as we exited the store, and we made him take us all back to the shitty apartment before we would allow Jerry to leave.


But you know, Joey gifted Fat Jerry with a bottle of his precious wine. I think that they were friends for a liong time.

Joey was pretty cool like that.


Then we had to figure out about the feta cheese after that purple-haired freak left in the cab.


Now don’t forget to DRINK! That’s what I am going to finish doing, and think about how to tell you the next part without alerting the authorities.


Bacchus help us.



.

[oettinger]

You guys lost your jobs at this moment right?
Take the sugar cubes, disgusting to get down without throwing up but worth the trouble. I remember vividly eating three and heading for beer and vodka, ten minutes later and shit already kicked in on the parking lot.