The chicklings loved visiting the milking sheds. The new baby goats fascinated the chicks and they were just beginning to stand on their own. The chicks watched the baby goats, bok-bokking their myriad questions, peppering their mother with them at a mile a minute. The ice cold sun was distant, but it was still showing bright through the force field and down upon all of them. It was glorious!
Sparkle sensed that what she was experiencing could in no way be real. She knew it was a dream, that her delight was due to Crosstown, but dang it if it wasn’t a good dream. She felt the love she had for her children every bit as palpably as the shy sun on her upturned face. Sparkle glanced down at them and they gazed back at her, filled to the brim, simply overflowing, with love and trust. She felt their love. She felt it most intensely.
A shadow fell over them. Sparkle looked up and over where her shoulder would be if she had any and saw The Good Doctor, himself.
“Dr. Sir,” greeted Sparkle.
“My Dear,” he replied, kissing both her gobbles. He knelt down. The chicklings came to The Good Doctor and circled excitedly all around him. He smiled vast and let the youngsters hop on and jump about. Even when they accidently dropped bottom-bombs on The Good Doctor’s crisp suit of clothes, he smiled and didn’t mind. He knew the babies couldn’t help themselves. They were immensely jazzed about seeing their father. The Good Doctor was not able to spend as much time as he would like with his chick-kids. They, of course, adored him even more because of this.
“How are all my babies doing today, hmm?” The chattering from the chicks became even more incessant.
“They are just beside themselves, husband,” Sparkle answered for them. The Good Doctor laughed and smiled. Delighted, he stood.
“Follow me then,” he replied. “I have something fabulous to show you all.”
The chicks erupted, chirping, chattering and bottom-bombing the whole area.
“Wonderful! Children, everyone get in line and follow me. Chop-chop, now,” she told them, “let us make haste.”
The chicklings lined up and followed Sparkle and their father. The grown-ups led them through the gate and straight into the root garden where the gnomes dwelled. There was to be a ceremony today. They were all invited to attend the festivities.
A small contingent of gnomes was waiting for them, right between the rows of carrots and radishes. They all bowed severely at the waist when they saw their Creator. The leader of the gnomes prostrated himself before The Good Doctor.
“Rise, please,” The Good Doctor stated and the gnomes all complied. The one who had prostrated himself turned and disappeared between the vegetable rows. The Good Doctor turned then to Sparkle and the kids and said: “They are wheeling him out now.”
“Who is it?” asked Sparkle.
“It is one of their Elders. They are going to perform a ceremony of Renewal.”
“What is that, my love?”
“Their Eldest Seer is dying. The ceremony, the gnomes believe, will ensure that his wisdom, caring and strength remains with the clan.”
The gnomes wheeled their Elder out on an old kid’s skateboard. The gnome was tied down. He was still breathing, but just barely. Sparkle had the chicks back up a touch when some gnomes came forward. They all had wicked sharp spears. They rolled their dying leader to a stop. One of the spear-wielding gnomes came forward to the supine gnome. He bowed slightly from the waist and then plunged the spear tip into the chest and split their leader open. He quickly cut out the heart, while it was still beating and squirting red life. He presented it to the reigning member of the Warrior Elite, who gobbled it down like it was so much pumpkin pie.
The eyes of the now dead corpse were popped out with the same spear tip. The optic nerves were severed and the orbs themselves were presented to the gnome’s new Seer of the Clan. He ate the windows to the soul with relish and all due reverence. The wisdom that was necessary to lead the clan, the gnomes believed, were centered in the eyes. The brain of the former Leader was detached from the stem connecting it to the spine. It was presented whole to the Clan’s Healer and Midwife. She wrapped it lovingly and took it with her crying softly the whole time.
Sparkle, The Good Doctor and their chicklings watched enraptured as the rest of the gnomes proceeded to empty out the thorax and the abdomen of all the vital organs. They planned to cook it all in a stew for the whole of the clan to enjoy. Once they finished scooping out the dead gnome’s still warm innards, the clan invited the chicklings to feast upon the remainder of the gnome. The gnomes wasted nothing.
The chicklings just adored gnome meat and the bones held much savory marrow. Sparkle smiled, delighted with the sight of the chicks gorging themselves. She was still smiling when the darkness closed around her and she was brought back up to the surface.
* * * * *
Sparkle was no longer a mother and a wife. Now she was just Sparkle, the sex performer. Dang it!
Sparkle lifted her head from her deep breast and inhaled sharply. She came to, smiling at Donna.
“What do you think?” she asked Sparkle.
“That was really something,” she said, trying to steady her excited heart.
“You liked it then?”
“Loved it,” Sparkle replied. “I want in.”
Donna grinned. This was more like it.
“Excellent,” she said. “How deep do you want to dive, Sparkle?”
The egg-layer paused a moment to reflect on her trip.
“All the way in,” she replied. Sparkle reached into her clutch and removed the cash with her beak. She dropped the stack of cash she’d received for the solo performance into the waiting hand of 3D. “Fifteen thousand Rupees,” she said. “Is that enough to make me an equal partner in this new venture?”
Donna looked down at the stack of cash. “Yes it will,” she told Sparkle.
“Good,” Sparkle replied, but with a catch: “Let me have a gram right now.”
“No problem.”
“And never let me run out,” she added.
“You got it,” Donna assured her. She smiled grandly at Sparkle. Another satisfied customer, the drug dealer thought. Sometimes it pays to get up in the morning. Even in this dirt hole.
* * * * *
Love is all you need.
It is a loaded gun and it shoots to kill. And even though it is a battlefield and it hurts, you need it, way down inside. It’s a second-hand emotion and it’s all you need. It burns when it’s hot. It is a temple, the higher law. It can be deep inside, it can be suicide. It is a ghost train howling at the radio. It is the leech sucking you up. It is the vampire drinking your blood. It is like oxygen. It is like a dying ember, only memories remain. I want to know what it is. I want you to show me.
We only need the one more. Just one. Then We can skip the light fandango.
Love is the key that fits a million locks. And We are going to find it. Even if it the last thing We ever do.
Love is all you need…love is all you need…love is all you need…
SEPTUM
Slow Bennie awoke in the usual fashion. He opened his eyes and tried with his feeble brain to determine his location. He was fully clothed, lying on the floor of his bedroom. He had the thumb of one hand lodged firmly in his mouth, suckling it. The other hand was cupping protectively his penis and testicles. Slow Bennie blinked himself awake as he remembered that he was home. Then again, he was always home. Slow Bennie never went anywhere off grounds. It was awfully cold up top and outside the force field protected GRID.
Slow Bennie and his uncle Elron Hunt had to themselves all of five hundred square meters of livable space underground, which was good. Their home was certainly bigger than most. But what was truly remarkable and valuable was the one-third of an acre of GRID protected land directly above their domicile. This is the kind of land that is worth more than can ever be quantified. Of course Slow Bennie had no concept of this. He held no realization of the immense value of his inheritance. He didn’t know that that was the m
ain and really only reason why his uncle allowed him to do whatever his punchy water head told him to do. Slow Bennie just simply knew that Uncle Elron never ever punished him for anything he did, no matter how stupid.
Fortunately for uncle and nephew alike, Bennie loved being up top and Elron could care less. Bennie enjoyed tending to the easier to grow fruits and vegetables that graced their table. Elron was usually too smacked out of his mind to truly appreciate the organic goodness the land provided. Feeling sorry for himself and nodding his way into the loving and perpetually forgiving arms of Morpheus monopolized Elron’s home life.
Beside the food bearing plants and trees, Bennie also had a knack for maintaining and shaping the pines and oaks and mulberry trees that graduated out in concentric circles from the fish freezer. Bennie loved his green time. It was his job and he took it seriously. The sowing and reaping and cleanup were delightful to Slow Bennie. The man-child had just enough going on upstairs to realize that the tiny farm (no animals; too difficult) was his job, while his Uncle Elron did his at the Club. Whatever the heck that was.
Slow Bennie liked farming, sure, but what he adored most was making fish jerky. He did it in the big dehydrator that came with the farm he had inherited from his dead mother, who had been a respected member of the Village Council. His Uncle knew how much he dug using the dehydrator, so Elron made sure to keep the freezer container well-stocked. This would keep Bennie busy and out of trouble. Well, most of the time, anyway. The frozen fish came from the handful of ice trawling clans that worked the perpetually frozen Lake and sold their wares at The Harbor Market. Elron would order the fish directly from the Market and someone would deliver it to the farm.
The dehydrator seemed to sooth Bennie and the jerked fish was spiced during the latter stages of the process. The smoked and dried fish was delicious, which is nice, because it represented the bulk of their animal protein. Most Harbor tunnel rats would never even see any animal protein except for the mutated rodents of which the denizens derived their derogatory name. The tumor-filled rat flesh kept them alive, anyway. The two of them were very fortunate and would be deemed quite prosperous by the standards of most. Even Elron agreed on the tastiness of Slow Bennie’s fish, when he was sober enough to remember to eat. The fish were stored in a great big stainless steel lined box under a long shaft-like opening in the GRID. Responding to Bennie and Elron’s verbal commands, as well as set on an automatic timing mechanism, the micro-pore openings in the GRID protected force field sent quick, tiny bursts of frigid ice age cold down through the long shaft before finding eventual solace in the freezer box. This kept the fish frozen until needed, without flash freezing everything else around it. It was still further shielded by a graduating outward ripple of tall boreal forest pines and other trees and shrubs and whatnot. This would keep most of the tiny bursts within those necessary confines. Bennie’s mother did a fantastic job designing the small farm and Bennie had never known anything else. It was very pretty. He had no past to run away from or mourn, so he was happy and would be more than a little surprised to learn that not many other folks and freaks in the ACE Harbor shared his joy.
Slow Bennie rose from his bedroom floor, waving his arms and stomping his feet in an attempt to warm up some. He was already dressed in the same outfit he had worn all week, even the footwear. Bennie smelled horrible, naturally, but he didn’t know this. He was one of those fortunate souls that enjoyed his own brand of funk. His Uncle Elron never complained about his nephew’s malodorous cloud, so he had not the ability to even notice. Really, no personal grooming was ever discussed and Elron, unbeknownst to Bennie, avoided his bubble headed nephew like the Outbreak. He didn’t like to brush his rotting teeth, either, and his Uncle never told him he should. So, the poor kid’s choppers hurt him something awful, which is why he started the habit of helping himself to Elron’s Downtown Leroy Brown whenever he could find it. The soft waxy plug liberally applied would numb his bleeding gums and after that, the slow swell of delight that builds within whenever he chewed it would make him forget his dental issues anyway. La, la-la. Even up top looked to Bennie as a brighter and even more beautiful version than it was of its own accord.
Bennie tore a pinch from his pinched stash and set it between the cheek and gum of the most painful area of his mouth. He could feel it working its opiate magic almost immediately. He intended to go up top and begin his farming chores, but he heard Uncle Elron returning home. The door from the thoroughfare tunnel access to the rear entry of their place opened and then closed just as quickly.
The man-child heard Elron come in and tramp his way down the short hall to his own room. Slow Bennie got himself even happier because now he had someone to play tricks on! If possible, this was maybe even more enjoyable than farming. He felt a wonderful butterfly tickle his tummy-tum and privates.
Boy, oh boy, this is gonna be great! He thought, excitedly.
Hearing Elron heading away from his bedroom, Slow Bennie ducked down behind his door. He sneaked a sneaky peek through the crack in his door at his Uncle’s retreating backside. He saw Elron disappear into his bedroom and shut the door. He heard the lock as it was engaged and this made him giggle. Theirs was an old place and was never decked out with any thumb-print or eye-scanning locks. The doors were presently outfitted with good old-fashioned key locks and Bennie giggled into his hand because his Uncle didn’t recognize that Bennie had a spare key. That was how he’d been helping himself to Elron’s Downtown Leroy Brown. Silly Rabbit!
Slow Bennie snuck, as slowly and as carefully as his excited self could, down the hall to his Uncle’s room. He stifled another giggle fit. The solar powered light above him turned on automatically as he passed beneath it. That won’t do. Bennie was, after all, a Jedi, 007 super-spy, and a ninja all rolled into one. He crouched low and pretended to speak into his wrist, giving whispered instructions.
“Off,” he whispered and the light was doused. He then went to the door and pressed his ear close. He heard a chop-chop-chop on the other side and lifted his pretend firearm to his chest, index finger pointing skyward, ready for action. Thank goodness that the fate of the free world was in Bennie’s well trained hands!
* * * * *
Elron dropped his shoulder satchel to the floor of his bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and undid the tie to his drab shift. He padded in his thermal stocking feet to the desk, dropping the small zippie of Crosstown Traffic on the top. It was an unadorned, aged recovered school teacher’s desk. Elron Hunt appreciated the simple small table. The uncomplicated metal and wood counter housed no lighted calendar, audio reminders, or any other technological doo-hicky-doos. Thank the blankety-blank stars above.
Elron was now as relaxed and at ease as he could get himself. He was going to go under once more and he made darn sure that he was only a short stumble back to his small awaiting bed. Elron was hoping to get ripped on a small bit of Crosstown Traffic and revisit his classroom again. He had loved the last trip so very much. But this time, the professor was going to visit his office with some company of the young, female variety. He was getting himself a rare Woodrow just thinking about it.
Elron crushed a little and sniffed it back. He began back-peddling just in time to tumble backward into the drug vision and onto his bed. Elron Hunt was unconscious and tripping stones before thumping the mattress. He settled back with a whimper and a grin.
* * * * *
Slow Bennie unlocked his uncle’s bedroom door. He carefully and quietly opened it and stepped with ninja stealth inside. His uncle was lying on his back, half-clothed on his bed. He was breathing kind of heavy and was pretty well red-faced. Bennie clocked the tears streaming down his uncle’s cheeks and already soaking the bed sheets. Elron had a titanic erection and a blissful beam that belied the tears.
Slow Bennie laughed in his hand at his uncle’s rigid tumescence and turned toward the desk. It was time to cadge some of Uncle’s Downtown Leroy Brown. Imagine his surprise when he saw the small zippie of dried tears.
* * * * *
Elron’s second trip led him from his classroom with a comely co-ed in tow. Laughing and flirting, Elron led his vision conquest to his spacious office at the University. He unlocked the door and opened it wide, beckoning the young lass inside.
She took care of shutting the door herself, and locking it tight. The down like a clown, Charlie Brown, frosh was on her knees in a freeze-framed instant. She began squeezing and pulling on Elron’s pud like it was a nearly empty soap dispenser. The professor had his hands in her brick red hair, watching her felate him with more skill than any nineteen year old should possess. He could feel her warm mouth and wondered with much anticipation what exact shade of ruby her tulip was going to be, when she morphed right before his eyes.
* * * * *
Slow Bennie saw his uncle’s mouth open and close as his eyes fluttered and lolled beneath the lids. Even in his softened brain, Bennie knew the small pile on the desk was goodie good goods.
He went to it feverishly. Slow Bennie intended on gobbling the lot of it.
* * * * *
“Bennie!” shouted Elron when he saw who was on his knees with his mouth inexplicably wrapped tight around his constituent. He shoved at his nephew out of sheer outrage, and none too gently either. “What do you think you’re doing? Where the heck is Cammy?”
But Bennie didn’t say a word. He shook off his uncle’s attempt at force as though an insect had landed. He clamped down even tighter on Elron’s and then bit the head completely off, blood squirting everywhere. Elron screamed, feeling the pain acutely and real as a counterpoint to the pleasure and wet warmth. He punched at his nephew viciously, fully expecting the lad to reel backwards, but it did not transpire. Instead, Bennie suckled even more uncomfortably his uncle’s associate as though he was trying to drain him dry. The boy was trying his level best to empty the man standing before him. Elron was boxing his nephew’s ears and ripping handfuls of hair from the handi’s head. Slow Bennie kept at it, though, ignoring his uncle’s violent assault and verbal abuse. It was very much like his life depended on leaching out every tiny liquid jeweled drop of Elron Hunt’s precious fluids. And nothing was going to stop Us.
The Place in Between Page 15