Julie lay in her bed. Roy was also laying in the bed. They were laying next to each other in the house on 1046 Grant Street.
“Did you know Blessing was friends with Mila?” Julie asked.
“Nope.”
“Her aunt was nice. She said they called Mila their very own Cameron Diaz,” Julie said.
“Why?”
“Because of the blue eyes,” Julie replied, but she was busy thinking about Mila’s baby.
“Why do you like Emery, Julie?” Roy asked.
“Well, for one, she’s not a teenage mother,” Julie sighed.
Roy was considering the consequences of saying what was on his mind. “You know, the LDS is pretty racist.”
Julie didn’t say anything.
“They won’t ever really accept Blessing. Of course, it’s great that Emery and Blessing are friends, but I question,” Roy paused, “the idea that Blessing should spend so much with those Mormons.”
“OK, Roy, I get that the LDS does not hold an open minded view of the world. And I am definitely not encouraging my daughter to gussy up like a deranged baker to save dead souls,” Julie snapped. “God help me, I used to do it. Once upon a time.”
“Look, she’s nearly fifteen,” Roy said. He was thinking it was a shame that he hadn’t been able to take his step-daughter fishing that fall. They both enjoyed being up at the lake and somehow it just hadn’t worked out this year. Where had the time gone?
“I just don’t know what to do to keep her safe,” Julie said.
“Blessing’s a good kid. Why don’t I take her out to lunch on Sunday?” Roy offered.
Julie turned to face Roy. “You never take me out to lunch,” she said.
Roy turned to face Julie, “You never take me out to lunch,” he said.
“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to,” Julie said.
“Well, you could always surprise me one of these days,” Roy said.
“I tell you what,” Julie tapped Roy on his salt and pepper chest, “why won’t we both try to surprise each other by next Monday? Doesn’t have to cost any money, just a nice surprise.”
Roy looked at Julie with a twinkle in his eye, “Say there, are you trying to romance me?”
Keith Abbott set foot into McCarthy’s Pub at the exact same time El-Don Mast was being thrown out of the bar. Keith had entered the bar via the portal in the wall that led him to and from Monterey California and El-Don was exiting via the front door that led to Main Street in Longmont Colorado.
The band had just finished playing their freshest tune entitled “Goose Shit Park”. The song had met with the audience’s approval and the band was being served a round of beers.
Keith looked around the bar. While living, he’d never spent any time at the establishment because he realized that it declined a certain kind of clientele. He decided, since he was invisible, to stick around for the next song. He settled in the back of the bar to watch the scene. The band’s leader was wearing a cowboy hat and sneakers. The drummer looked about sixteen and had on a white singlet partially covered by a white towel. Playing the bass was a nondescript guy sporting a racoon hat. But it was the keyboardist who had the most style of them all. The dude was decked out in a flannel bathrobe, cowboy boots and a travel pillow hung around his neck.
“You might have noticed,” the band leader was saying, “Sleepy Sam here is ready for the tour.” Bret leaned over and took a sip of his beer. “Too bad, we don’t have a tour.”
“No way out of Longmont, man,” a voice shouted, “you can never leave!”
“I was told that was California,” Bret said, looking out over the crowd. “Listen, we’re happy you all made it here to McCarthy's tonight. So here’s our next song, written by Sleepy Sam himself. One, two, and a one and a two…”
The band began to play a ballad.
I told her the night we met
a desert is not plagued
by weeds
Keith was enjoying himself. He glanced around. A woman was looking straight at him. He realized she could see him. She started talking into her friend’s ear. Keith got up. Should he leave through the door or the wall? In his white kimono and long flowing hair, he looked pretty out of sorts at McCarthy’s bar. He decided he should leave as quickly as possible. He ducked behind the bar counter and exited through the wall.
Sitting in his sedan, El-Don was reviewing his disgrace. He was unhappy, and because he liked to think he was a guy who could reasonably talk to anyone, he was most unhappy about not being able to fit in for a bare minimum of ten minutes while at McCarthy’s Pub. How would he ever be a successful missionary? Not that he had tried, but it had been a dream of his before he had gotten married. He still thought about it at night.
He was trying to envision in which peaceful country he might still be able to perform missionary work for His Lord and Saviour Jesus, when he saw something slip out of the sign on the side of the bar. There it was! El-Don sat up to take a closer look. He could just see a blurry form. This time he was certain. It was not a mountain lion.
He was startled when two women bolted out the bar’s door and came around the side of the building. They were obviously looking for something and no one had tossed either one of them out of the bar. They gestured wildly at the form that was moving away from the bar. El-Don watched as the two women started to chase the blurry form. The blurry form started to pick up speed.
El-Don thought he recognized one of the women. He started the car’s engine. “Yes,” he thought as he turned onto Main Street and headed north, “that is Candace.”
Tags: #longmont #1046grantstreet #mccarthy'spub #colorado #keithabbott #mast #bouldermennonitechurch #mensfellowship #mordecaiofmonterey #keithkumasenabbott #gertrudestein #boulder #rhinoritz
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