Chapter Two – MIDNIGHT at last!
VENERATIONAN ODE FROM THE BORDER BARD
Adoration
POME
My Lady
If I can be your sticking-point,
May I take my Self to you?
And softly breasts would billow me,
Like clouds, your calves hold firm my neck,
As we’d last, would live, until the sticking-point
Undoes. The all-desired pain?
To meet as one again…
So in these, our circles
Round us love-wards
By the old-school book
We’d bundle in each other’s arms
Every good at the same time; my temple is you.
We/they’d breathe each other’s breaths
While sailing on our summer sheets
And we’d taste our mouths (will taste)
And we’d chew our lips (will kiss, high bliss)
And we’d be each other’s will (will be, still)
Because I am here solely…to love you.
--Ante-Shakespearean sonnet, from Gabriello “Beau” Sancto to Lady Saragina DeSoto, his second true love – post Himself.
AN HISTORIC MOMENT fit fer a Glass Teat Documentary, havin’ a toothless mouth producin’ no dreams or screams, merely ice cream by Lithuanistic Dwarf Carla…or, a semi-brief flashback to the nearest possible past:
Gabe was, naturally, fired from his job at Endeavor Specialty Hospital. The authorities never proved anything, but they could’ve slowly pieced it together and implicated him. He was the only person seen on a regular basis walking with the patient. They wrote him down as a “quit.” He was left unable to collect unemployment that way, but had a touch of cash saved up.
A newspaper advertisement for manual laborers through the Catholic mission in Rama, WA, caught Gabe’s attention. They promised steady work at decent pay. Gabe received one good recommendation, from Flo Herberkin, RN; she said he was an excellent character. “Good luck, you rube!”
Quietly the old apartment was emptied, cleaned, dumped into the back of a rented pick-up truck. It served for two full loads. A new apartment in Rama awaited “Beau,” thanks to his infrequent girlfriend, Saragina DeSoto. She vouched for him with the manager and helped him with the paperwork. Gabe had just enough set aside for the deposit and first and last month’s rent, and he moved in the same day he left. Lead-pipe cinch, it was magically delicious.
A new town, and a new life, and the same old story it was for him now. Lack of education, out of work. He'd been seeing Sarah on and off anyway for the last three years, having met her at a New Year’s Eve party in Unionville. It was almost an aptly-named town…
Rama was scarcely larger than any of the rest of those outback, regional townships making up this overall farming community, this open, low-horizon, grandly verdant portion of rains wept pastoral space. With cows. Artie also was in Rama. Trees were off in the distance, towering like true angels of mercy. Maybe she is out there, Gabe thought, dying in the cold and happy as a lark for a change. He did try the Demoral at last, and had found everything out.
Sarah took handsome Gabe, for the first time ever, to the Krakatoa. “You’ll love the crazy giant volcano! I jus’ love our local volcanoes, I toured Mt. St. Helens once with my high school class – we all had enough class to march straight towards it, chattering like insects!” she tittered, bell-like, as they approached the glass front doors. It was dark in there. Gabe suddenly about-faced and swung hard astern, staring awake and thunder stricken at Sara's lovely face.
“Why are you lookin’ at me so funny, sweet sugar-man?” inquired Herself. “What is giving you such a naked pause?”
“Don’t know,” said being unhurriedly whispered, with a minor hint of malevolence. Gee, wasn’t he responsible for what happened now to other her? “Dunno. I just have a feeling something unholy is going to happen. Either that, or it's simply that I should be the one holding the door open, for you, my sweet.”
Stolidly, Gabe went ahead and opened it first, and was immediately hit hard by one terrifically solid pool ball. It was the orange number five. It HURT, but badly, for approximately ten minutes. The ball had struck his abdomen and would have wedged tightly in his naval, ‘cept it was too big.
It was a verifiable “uff-da, * and she gestured wildly at the ball-thrower to stop. At least her fella wasn’t gonna get pregnant ever, but gee, he sure could have problems in life now after that, couldn’t he?
“We’re friends! We’re friends! Werefriends!” Sara’s purse hit the ground, splat, and spilled as she took a defensive carrot-tay stance, looking for all the world like a black Emma Peel, but sans the phony imitative leather “skin” or the three-inch spike heels. But as for her purse, what a MESS!! Brown creamy foundation puddled wetly on the firmament oozing into floor cracks. Tissue stuck to it, and a brilliant yellow hair pick added its misplaced charms to floor decor.
“GODDAMMNNITT!!! Whay don’ does suckahs steh park’ hon th’ tay-bull whar dey bee-langs! Oh, garsh,” and through blurs, mists and shadows there was this image of a fuzzy green pool table way over there; a gigantic blonde hippie was swiftly throwing his pool cue down, clatter, running madly towards them in hair-flipping leaps, and finally with towering and looming him talents ferociously and menacingly over both “Beau” and Sara. But whoever-it-was, the guy was apologetically passing both his lengthy hands over Gabe like a doctoring old-timey minstrel performer. He looked sorry as he should, and he was.
The Rainbow Horizon - A Tale of Goofy Chaos Page 7