by Miles Klee
*
I axed Ty at Harvey House why Freddy will be so mad. Ty keeps watching on the TV and says, “Tell you what. Buy some Nicaraguan vampire bats. Release them into Freddy’s home, let them fly down through the chimney, and you can’t get out because shit there’s something blocking the door—I put big rocks there—and the guano is flying, and God there’s a bat in your hair and it’s like of course the bat’s just as scared and trying to untangle but it’s hopelessly caught and the leathery wings are smacking you in the face as it screeches pathetically, which just attracts more bats, and what the fuck, seems like these bats got their sonar screwy cause all they do is crash into you, and finally one forward-thinking bat gets the inspired idea to bite you in the jugular vein and hey: that’s when you black out.” I can’t do these fancy Ty things. Where can a man get some bats? I axed him an easier way. He says, “Shush, space shuttle news is on.” He’s a weird one, but he’s trying you know.
*
But like we say, this was the days. Dr. Hal Rockefeller and I, we don’t now bicycle together cause of scoundrels that did lock my bicycle and also because Dr. Hal Rockefeller is lost yesterday. I was leaving him play outside on our walk, and what do you know—he’s gone. I told Liz, a Harvey House helper lady. “That weasel of yours running around loose?” I says he’s a ferret. She says, “He’s dangerous?” I says ‘course not, Dr. Hal Rockefeller is a courteous ferret and with manners. She says, “She’ll turn up.” I says it’s a he not she.
*
I was showing people my only picture of Dr. Hal Rockefeller. Of the doctor in his bike basket and me steering. People say nothing or else “I haven’t seen your rat” or suchlike unhelpful things. Dr. Hal Rockefeller most of times is coming home before long, but he was lost for a day now and I hadn’t ever missed him so awful much as this. Could’ve looked for Dr. Hal on my bike if not for scoundrels! The police says last time I had no ID and never no bike. Police Ed goes, “Who would give you a bike? You’d just hurt yourself.” My bike is a gift to me by one Henri Acton, who has the absolute best music band (that’s different from Freddy’s bands from the card shop) all by himself, with zero backup, on the little piano. He says I’ll enjoy it more and I’m his biggest fan, and that L president-hey of the Henri Acton fan society has important things that needs modes of transport. But now! I had to be on some searches for Dr. Hal with no bike no help, even though I axed Ty. Ty says, “This government is soft on crime.” Not as soft as Dr. Hal Rockefeller, you be sure, I says, but Ty is a meanly shout, “Quiet for America Sings! And P.S., the rat-finding expedition is a no-go.” On TV some guy, singing, and wow, was he somewhat loud. I says that guy would make good at a baseball game announcing.
*
By the tracks where I can be taking breaks from searches I watched some big wooshy trains. They were fun and neat. I seen trains lots and some littler with pretend towns suchlike Henri and I were playing at times ago, in Harvey House around the Christmas tree. It has littler pretend people to be waiting for the train and it’s fun cause I’m like a giant at them, but a friendly giant. I was too close to a regular train and in a shiny woosh it blew away from my arms some drawings of Dr. Hal Rockefeller I wrote for passing out. Flying and I can’t catch them from the air. There’s a man with a hat who I catched at on accident. “Whaddayu think you’re doing, throwing those all over the platform.” I says I was catching only and no throwing. “Don’t let me see you at that again.” He gives his dumb hat some touches and is stepping on the train. I have only been once inside of a train, when I was a kid and having a nosebleed. Thing is some ways I’ll do a nosebleed, but no biggy, just for a usual. Dad though was shouting cause I was eating of the blood to get it back in. “Stop!” which is a word I know is on red octagons, and he was crying at me, but my blood were like funny candy. Henri taught me octagons and others of crazy shapes. Nosebleeds nothing, Henri was like to say, Dad still loves me, it’s his job.
*
There’s a whole buncha people that I talked at for the Dr. Hal Rockefeller-finding expedition, the word I learned from Ty, and all standing like dinner line-up. They were getting at train tickets, obvious. My stomach was growls because some criminal had a delicious hot dog and my stomach was thinking bout Texas Wieners, a tip-top restaurant, only I can’t ever remember where it is and when I try a map it just has lines of colors and it can’t work. Criminal for sure. Ty says all niggers are interested with one thing: crime. “Nigger?” I was saying, to practice. “Nigger? Who? How do we spot the nigger,” I ax. “That,” Ty points at Ernie, a cleaning Harvey House guy. “O, a nigger is a cleaner guy!” “No!” Ty says, “with the skin.” “O,” I’m shouting more, “a nigger is a guy with cleaner skin!” “No! A nigger does not have clean skin … they have dirty skin. So dirty it’s black.” “O,” I’m whispery, “am I a nigger?” “Idiot,” Ty grumbles like dogs, “a nigger has really dirty skin. You’re just kind of dirty.” “O,” I says, “now you’re understood. I’m just kind of nigger.” “Yes,” Ty says, “but full niggers are criminals, not like you.” We watched on TV an animals show where a baby walrus was rescued so he could grow big. Ty kept on saying “Just die,” at the baby walrus, but boy was I happy the walrus didn’t. I wished it could’ve sat with me suchlike it was my baby. Then they make the walrus go back to his real wilderness home, and zoo people are having a cry?—hello, it’s a happy ending! “Ty,” I axed, “a criminal. How do we spot a … criminal?” “Just look for a nigger,” Ty says.
*
I’m going at the line-up people and none want a chat, not even the criminal with his Texas Wiener. They just move up the line with toys in their ears and talking to the back of someone else’s head. The train-ticket guy in the jail was frowning a lot and says, “You, come over here.” I was too afraid and looked around. “Yeah, pajama pants. Come here.” But here’s what: everyone is wearing pants and can sleep in them, which means we’re all wearing of pajama pants. The train ticket guy is just more frowning. “Get lost,” he goes. And there are moments too soon! Cause right there in a wall hole on the side of the jail is some tail. “There!” I shout to the line-up, and diving for Dr. Hal. The tail goes in the hole so I stick my arm all in too. The line-up people say stuff, but I don’t hear so much cause I called at Dr. Hal Rockefeller to come, and was promising some cheese—his favorite kinds, which is monster. My fingers in dark can feel at rocks and a box with soft pills in it. I felt a moving. I grabbed it and found a tail to pull, which I was sorry to do cause you know it hurts, but when Dr. Hal comes out he’s not looking like himself and his tail is naked and gross suchlike nothing else, not ever. He’s dangly and bitey and I say: “Hey, you’re not the doctor,” because for certain this thing is not. He’s squirmy and try to bite again, and then some line-up people saw. A lady screamed, and others making big fusses for nothing. “Don’t be worrisome,” I say, using a Henri word, “Only a rat, like Ratopia on Animal Channel,” and brung it closer to show how harmless, but these people are screams. The criminal holding a Texas Wiener has a surprise and dropping his Texas Wiener and that darn rat wiggled out my hand. He took a chunk from the Texas Wiener on the ground and runned out so fast, you have no ideas.
*
The train-ticket man came out of the jail and with a mad face. He says, “I told you, get lost,” and pushed me, and went to give the screamest lady some touches. I was crying but pretended I wasn’t cause the line-up people were looking, and hey, a cry is for little kids. But it was too late to not have a cry and I wiped at my crying, and I go downstairs to sit by the ice cream place but not wanting some and crying still. Who walks out with some ice cream in a sugar cone, my favorite, but a police name of Bert. “Why you crying, Grady?” “A cry is for kids.” He’s licky at his ice cream and says, “Why don’t you hang with me, Grady, take a load off?” I yell, “I don’t take what isn’t mine!” and runned off, boy. Runned and runned. Runned in a tunnel under the train tracks and runned smack into some boy kids. One boy shouting: “Hey, watch whe
re the fuck you’re going!” I tell that swearing is for bad people, and he goes, “I am bad.” It was darkful with the tunnel but I can’t leave. Another boy is saying, “It’s that guy! I know who you are.” “Cause I’m famous?” “Yeah, a famous loser.” “Famous,” I says, “wow.” And then the boys are laughy, and I’m laughing but the laugh is making more crying come out. “What’s wrong with you,” says the bad boy. Dr. Hal Rockefeller is gone. “Who is that, your boyfriend,” goes the bad boy, and the other boys are laughy again. No, I says, he’s my ferret friend. “I have an idea,” says one boy, “we’ll help you find it.” “What?” says another boy. “Are you retarded?” “Shh, dude, trust me.” “This is stupid.” “O Jesus,” goes some others. “Yes please!” I’m yelling, “you have to!” and the boys are almost scared. “I was needing help.” And I wanted to cry some more, but holding it in to be brave. And one boy, who is so gosh-darn familiar, looks at me and looks away.
*
The boys are walking into Harvey House with me to help with a sign, a sign with real words. Amy, a helper lady, says, “Oh you’ve got some new friends there, have you,” and smiles. I smile. I got a poster thing at the arts and crafts room that Ty always calls arts and farts, and I laugh for it. Ty goes, “You don’t even know what a fart is, do you.” I says no. He tells, “A fart is when white stuff comes out your weiner.” I was so laughy at this, maybe most ever. Ty is looking bad and says, “That noise. What is that stupid noise you make?” The boys draw words I told for the poster, about Dr. Hal Rockefeller and his personality, his favorites of cheese. I tell his color and softness, and the boys were making the fanciest words. “It’s done?” I keep asking. “Almost.” In a bazillion years it was ready, so long and fancy! “It’s the best,” I say, and the boys was smiling, but one boy not, and he’s looking same—this boy is like Leo. He says, “Grady, don’t use this sign.” Other boys say, “Shh.” I say: “It’s perfect.” The boy says again, “Don’t use it,” and catched at it to rip! I say “No! Please don’t! Please.” And before you knew I was crying again at the Leo kinda boy but more cause I was needing the sign so much. “See,” says the bad boy, “he likes his sign, it’ll work great.” He takes it from the Leo boy and give it at me. “Grady,” he says, “I have a feeling this sign will make you very happy.” And the little Leo putting his chin on his chest.
*
I was walking with a sign so beautiful. Up to the trains for the line-up train people to see and tell me clues. And sure you bet sure some people talked at me. Of most, people were looking sad at me, prolly cause it is so sad when animals get lost. The talky people, surprise: they knowed nothing about Dr. Hal. They give me free dollars like the Harvey House helper ladies give dollars for Ice Cream Saturdays. It was riches for me! At the first, I was giving dollars back and axed about Dr. Hal, but these people just was talking bout other things. One goes: “Can’t your worthless ass get a better job than this?” I say my weekly chore job is organizing arts and farts table at Harvey House. He says to shut up. I axed if some information ‘bout my ferret, but again he was saying to shut up, and is calling me Simon. I ax who Simon is. He is saying, “My worthless ass son,” and leaves.
*
More yelling at the train tracks. More dollars. Some peoples throwing dollars but not yelling. What about Dr. Hal Rockefeller? Nothing. One guy is yelling bout his girlfriend that is sexy but making him nuts. I was laughy cause he’s saying sexy, a laughy word. I had a girlfriend one day at Harvey House, helper lady name of Jessica, except o boy is here the kick: her favorite Jell-O being orange! And since mine is lime green which will be of course a superior flavor of all time, we must be calling it grits, which for usual come the day after Jell-O Night. I told Henri bout my love life once, and he says, “Irreconcilable differences.” Sing it! Cause I say that also to Henri’s music—they say it too on Sunday morning singing TV with criminals.
*
A train stops once for long. Sad and sadder faces in it.
*
One guy is going, “What do I want to rant about.” He’s looking at my sign and says, “Boss, that’s good,” and then was yelling bout Mr. Price someone. He’s yelling into a while, well, other peoples want turns. He says, “We need more people like you.” I says, “Tell Dr. Hal I’m here, if you’re seeing his furry behind.” Just then I heard my name and there’s good old Vince! He goes, “Grady, what’s this racket?” I says it’s cause of wanting to find Dr. Hal. He reads at the sign. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Somebody played a joke on you.” And even though I fuss he wouldn’t hear me explain and says he has to take my great sign! That was the most sad, so here I was to cry. Again. He took the sign. “Grady Grady Grady” is Vince’s words, and he is fold of the sign. I am not a kid forever, but sometimes just like the Harvey House helper ladies say, you can’t help it. Vince is not mean like this, I think, and the people waiting in a line for talking at me start leaving cause of Vince! I try no more crying and yell, “Dr. Hal Rockefeller is alone plus to that prolly scared!” But my crying is making the yells blubby and I know I still look like big stupids, cause I am. “Trust me,” goes Vince, giving me a touch, which I am hating now and want to say but so ugly a word, suchlike a thing always they tell at Harvey House to Ty, they tell that Hate Is An Ugly Word. So true, cause I feel an ugly in my guts. So I runned, I runned. And downstairs of the trains, even worse! The bike locked up by the scoundrels is not locked up but gone! The criminal unlocking my bike finally, but stealing it, the frosting on a fate worse than breath. I runned again for Harvey House and a phone: the police given me a hotline to a detective. He is Larry and at most times sleepy on a desk, but other police are telling me don’t let it fool you, don’t judge a book by his sleepiness, cause he is extremely detectively.
*
Only it’s lated. I runned past the creek for telling me the way back to Harvey House and look and my precious bike is sinky in the crappy brown water! All bent. All crappy. And I don’t swear like Ty but jeez is it crappy now. And the crying, like a dumb baby, but Vince was mean and criminals broke my bike and Dr. Hal is lost and Henri doesn’t play me songs or come visit even and nothing is fair, so I lie in the garbagy grass and let the cry cry.
DH /// ANDRONICUS, FLORIDA /// LAST FALL
DH Forsyth and Leviticus Van Vetchen sit dozing in their renovated ice cream truck until a clanging at the rear door startles them.
LEV
Open Sesame.
DH obeys. A rangy, tanned man with a torn white shirt and faded Miami Dolphins cap climbs into the truck and stands, hips thrust, facing its owners.
DH
You with Endless?
LEV
Yeah, are you?
TOM
F’ize with Endless, I’d be dressed better.
DH and Lev share a look.
LEV
What can we do for you? (scrutinizing) Facelift? Not gastric.
TOM
Name’s Tom. Want the VV.
DH
Who said we—
LEV
Five hundred.
TOM
Shit, son, I only got but three. Ball’n’chain doesn’t know I have that much. Won it on the ballgame today.
DH and Lev share a look. Tom pulls a crumpled brown bag from his jacket pocket, flinging it onto the operating table. He produces a second brown bag and drinks from it.
TOM
Suppose I need to be a damn sight drunker to not feel the cut and all.
DH
Actually, we’ve got the gas.
Lev smacks his forehead as Tom’s eyes drift up to the shelf of silver tanks.
TOM
Make me manager at a MexiLickin’SurfHog. I don’t believe this.
LEV
Tom, I would love to perform VV on you, for your own continued safety and blah blah blah, but Hallaxor gas is expens—
TOM
Okay. Cards on the table. You give me the VV, I can direct you toward a high school car wash. This truck hasn’t me
t much dirt, but there’s a little firecracker working there you’d get along with nicely. My daughter. They’re all in bikinis; she’s the only one in red. Babysitter hair.
He takes another swallow of booze.
DH
We’ll do it.
LEV
“We.”
Lev starts rooting around in cabinets for his tools.
DH
Can I ask why you want the procedure, Tom?
LEV
(Head hidden) O, yes, let’s not forget the survey.
TOM
Sad story, but sure. New baby died, couldn’t’ve seen it coming. Wife said it was the crib death, something infant death syndrome, crazyass thing I never heard of. Thought that up on her PMS and plus she was half stupid from losing the baby on top of being half stupid to begin. But a doctor said no doubt about it, H12. A professional said. Wife and me at risk, he said, and we can’t afford the surgery, not the real thing. But I was at the bar watching the Little League World Series and got lucky and heard about you all, so here I am.