30) The water felt good. Today I thought I had finally drawn the better hand, that is until the pool splashers reversed their course. Out of the house they stormed, angry, wide-eyed, throaty, and well armed with a common go-to weapon: the machete. One small man had a rifle.
Nothing to explain. Time to run. I grab my clothes poolside, but leave Dr. Creep's gift of the weather-proof coat. I had only my backpack to conceal my shame. I ran faster than them all. Fear and shouting seemed to tire these once proud people. Down a hill side, across playa and vine, one by one they lost their breath. Only the small man with the gun was able to follow. Running pell-mell ended me in the pocket of a steep rock fall. Panting, I turned to face my pursuer. I didn't need to wait long. The brush parted and there he was, the small pock-marked soul. It was his leveled gun that held my interest. He began by stammering very loudly in that same unknowable tongue. His tactic was as poor as my own, which was nothing more than a pointless effort to blend into the stones. He gestures with the rifle for me to walk back the way we came. I am taken prisoner. I cooperate and advance, yet, though under duress, I offer my hand in friendship. An angel passes. The small man takes a quiet step back, there is a hitch in his breath, his eyes roll off of me. His knees buckle and he falls to the ground. I've done nothing, but he falls to the ground. This is one custom too many, my first thought. But this is more real, my second thought. And as he falls the gun discharges. I stand over him for long seconds. I must have been in shock, for suddenly my belly is aflame. I've been shot.
I can hear the others, drawn by the report, catching up. I have to run some more. Around the rockfall, deeper into the woods I go, bleeding through the dirty, wadded clothes I press against the hole in my gut. It was late afternoon. I was getting colder. I paused to put on my bloody clothes, and in taking the time for this I found I was very near a ruin, a shed or small barn overgrown with freshvine, etc. There is a threshold but no door. Inside it is already dusk. I do not feel well. I lay on the wooden floor among the leaves, spiders, and creatures I'll encounter only in total darkness. I might die tonight.
Dr. Creep...please....
Nothing to explain. Time to run. I grab my clothes poolside, but leave Dr. Creep's gift of the weather-proof coat. I had only my backpack to conceal my shame. I ran faster than them all. Fear and shouting seemed to tire these once proud people. Down a hill side, across playa and vine, one by one they lost their breath. Only the small man with the gun was able to follow. Running pell-mell ended me in the pocket of a steep rock fall. Panting, I turned to face my pursuer. I didn't need to wait long. The brush parted and there he was, the small pock-marked soul. It was his leveled gun that held my interest. He began by stammering very loudly in that same unknowable tongue. His tactic was as poor as my own, which was nothing more than a pointless effort to blend into the stones. He gestures with the rifle for me to walk back the way we came. I am taken prisoner. I cooperate and advance, yet, though under duress, I offer my hand in friendship. An angel passes. The small man takes a quiet step back, there is a hitch in his breath, his eyes roll off of me. His knees buckle and he falls to the ground. I've done nothing, but he falls to the ground. This is one custom too many, my first thought. But this is more real, my second thought. And as he falls the gun discharges. I stand over him for long seconds. I must have been in shock, for suddenly my belly is aflame. I've been shot.I can hear the others, drawn by the report, catching up. I have to run some more. Around the rockfall, deeper into the woods I go, bleeding through the dirty, wadded clothes I press against the hole in my gut. It was late afternoon. I was getting colder. I paused to put on my bloody clothes, and in taking the time for this I found I was very near a ruin, a shed or small barn overgrown with freshvine, etc. There is a threshold but no door. Inside it is already dusk. I do not feel well. I lay on the wooden floor among the leaves, spiders, and creatures I'll encounter only in total darkness. I might die tonight.
Dr. Creep...please....
posted by KJP at 8:48 AM
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