Still at Rimbaud Ranch, Lolly was trying to figure out whether Gator had seen the manifestation of Moses or Keith Kumasen Abbott. The table was divided. “Do you think that Keith Kumasen Abbott was a superior man? I mean it’s obvious Moses was,” Lolly asked Gator. “And surely you can agree with me on this point.”
Gator wasn’t sure what to answer. He eyed Buck. Gator was a little weary of Buck suddenly demonstrating his deep love of any type of weaponry whenever a different point of view was offered. As the sign embedded in the fireplace mantle stated, “Different points of view? Fuck ‘em.”
“Reputation,” Gator finally said, “has a way of leading the way.”
Lolly then realized that Gator wasn’t willing to say anything revealing. He was becoming slightly disappointed in Gator. Lolly had also opted for the faux escargot and now he was wondering about the main ingredient of the greasy dish. What exactly had he eaten?
“Gator,” Buck said, “let’s see if Laverne can shed some light on the matter.” Buck gestured for Laverne to initiate the seance. So far, Buck was on his best behaviour.
At Lolly’s end of the table, Laverne stood up in her purple gown and turban. Across from Lolly, John and Johnita adjusted their dinner jackets. Lolly didn’t quite know what to make of John and Johnita. They were both wearing tuxedos, but with different colored shirts. One shirt was neon green and the other shirt was neon orange. They insisted that they were good Christians, and Lolly always liked a good Christian. But he wasn’t enjoying being around John and Johnita.
Laverne channeled a representative of the spirit world. “He’s here,” she announced. “Rimbaud has arrived. “He says….” Laverne’s eyes were closed and she raised her eyebrows, “Come, come down to the dunes where the waves temper our drunken lips…”
“Oh, God,” Buck said. “Not again.”
“We are not anywhere near an ocean,” Mrs. Buck said. “Ask him about Moses.”
“A storm,” Laverne recited, “is passing soon, forty-five miles an hour southeast.”
Right then the French doors to the patio burst open and the Water Demon stepped into the dining room. “Don Buck Rogers,” he sang in his deep bass voice, “a cenar teco, m’invitasti e son venuto!”
“Crap!” Buck exclaimed. “This event is not Don Giovanni, Vodnik. Try going back to Rusalka out in the pond.”
“My Czech is a little rusty,” the Water Demon replied, but he was instantly distracted when a harpoon pierced his body. “What the hell!” he said, voicing his final words.
Outside Rhino Ritz was assessing the matter. Smitty was behind the wheel and Ernie was cutting the line. “Bug OUT,” Ernie screamed. Smitty stepped on the gas, the truck’s wheels squealed. Buck grabbed a Winchester from the wall and aimed at the departing truck, but didn’t shoot.
Once all the commotion had died down and it was apparent that there was nothing more to be done for the operatic Water Demon, it equally became clear that Lolly, John and Johnita had somehow left of their own accord.
“Well,” Buck said, looking around. “What do you say we adjourn to the sitting room and watch the rerun of Times Square?” This wasn’t really what was planned, it was just a ruse. Nobody wanted to see the ball drop, but it was New Year’s Eve and Pablo, Juan and Trevor were cleaning up the Water Demon’s remains.
In the sitting room a bookie was setting up. A sign behind her read:
Place Your Bets!!
Trump “achievements” by January 1st 2026 - Will he make it happen?
Groceries subsidized for card carrying “Packing and Toting” Christians.
Waiting lists for privileged African Americans wanting to get back in the fields again!
2027 elections onwards postponed until women relinquish the right to vote.
Farmers bought out by North Korean corporations and rehoused in Russia for their own good.
Trumpania: a new commonwealth, beach front, gambling and adult entertainment, nice climate
Bitcoin! The only valid currency.
Prisons provide 23.75% of the GNP of North and South America
Comey going down – take that bitch to prison!
The Pentagon: QAnon’s new address by appointment only
Windowless annex for the White House designed by Lee & Sakahara, work crew: ex data engineers
Keith read down the list, his heart sinking.
Lolly wasn’t at the party anymore, John and Johnita had also abandoned ship. That left Gator, Tirzah, Laverne, The Artist, Musetta, The Poet, Neurosis and Mr. and Mrs. Buck Rogers who gazed at the vision of the bookie and the betting board.
“I am going to give all of you twenty-five grand in bitcoin to play,” Buck announced. “Next year we’ll review and see who won big!”
The bookie smiled. “Happy New Year,” she said. "Feeling lucky?"
Mila, Emery and Blessing were tired of playing video games. They went up to Mila’s room.
“Hey,” Mila said, looking at her phone. She frowned.
“What?” Emery said.
“Do you guys want to go see some drag racing?”
“Uh…,” Blessing said, “it's three in the morning.”
Emery whipped her blond hair around to face Blessing. “Chicken?”
Blessing stared at Emery. “What do you mean? Do you want to go?”
Emery shrugged. “Why not?”
“Cuz it’s dangerous to be out with all the drunken drivers and do you know how hard it was to get my mom to let me come here?” Blessing asked.
Mila looked at her friends. “It’s not a great idea,” she admitted. She looked at her phone again. “It’s just that sometimes I miss my old life.”
“Yeah, but you’re sixteen now and you can legally drive and you have John…” Blessing said.
“Yeah, and I can pay car insurance and buy pampers,” Mila sighed.
“So what could we do?” Emery said. “I just want to do something.”
“Live dangerously and drink a Coke,” Blessing suggested peevishly.
“You don’t understand,” Emery said. “I could take a chance at going out to see a drag race, but if I touch a Coke…..” She fell silent. “It’s so twisted,” she finally said.
Mila looked at Blessing. “Hey,” she said. “I know something we can do.”
Out on the roof of the front porch, the girls huddled together for warmth. They had a pair of binoculars that they passed between them. There wasn’t much happening outside in the streets.
“What’s that car doing?” Emery asked.
Mila had the binoculars in her hands. “It’s a Subaru, Colorado plates. Whoa…”
“What?” Blessing said.
“The lady just dropped it in the mail box.”
“What?” Emery said,
“An envelope.”
“So?” Blessing said.
“She was using tongs.”
“So? There’s that tiktok video about keeping a pair of tongs in your car.” Emery said.
“The envelope was in a sandwich bag.”
“So?” Emery said.
“So why is some lady posting a letter at three in the morning, using tongs to pull the letter out of a sandwich bag and drop it into a mailbox?”
Blessing stared hard in front of her. Mila turned and saw the look on Blessing’s face.
“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Mila asked.
Comments
Post a Comment