(Get caught up on this next chapter.)
I wanted to go back to Maine. I’d had enough of that Fuckno, Califorgetthisshit. When I walked in through the front door with my mom, Spamela and Galen, those two little cute sisters of mine, they came up and hugged me.
My mom’s friend “Tuffy” was kind enough to lend her hand and mind these two girls while my mom went to pick me up from the hostible.
Of course, my mom had driven off all worried that her only son had been in a car accident and they needed her signature for me to get stitches on the top of my noggin.
Spamela and Galen were all excited about me being in a car accident.
“Did it hurt?”
“Did anybody die?”
“Was there blood?”
I showed them my stitches under the gauze and they got quiet and marveled at it.
My mom took me into her bedroom and closed the door. “You told me on the ride back home about this “Figging” thing that Sean is into, but I have to ask you something, and I want you to be honest. There was an explosion at a party up in the Fig Orchards in the Upper West Side late last night. Does this have anything to do with that?”
Now I don’t know about you, but I could never lie to my mom. She could see through lead, for chrissakes. And, she was the only one I had left, you see. Spamela and Galen were my own charges. Never doubt that.
“Well, yes and no.” I could not bring myself to look into her eyes. Lorelei was still with me. “Well yes, we went figging in those orchards, but no, we were not there when the explosion happened. We had nothing to do with that.”
My mom nodded. “Whew. I’m glad to hear you say that. Kids were hurt. Some got burns. Some lost their hair.”
I looked her directly in the eyes. “Mom, I want to go back to Maine now.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You wha---? Back to Maine? Why? What’s happened?”
I shook my head. I could not even begin to tell her. So I stuffed it all up, in, down, whatever you want to call it. “I’ve just had it with this place. There’s nothing but trouble here. It’s kinda fucked.”
She smiled and touched my shoulder. “The doctors said you might have a concussion, but I think it’s safe for you to get some sleep. You look like you’ve been to the moon and back. Your eyes are all hollowed out.”
I shrugged. “I don’t think that sleep will change my mind.”
She patted me. “You don’t now, but you’ll see. The world will look a lot nicer after you have some rest.”
She didn’t know that I’d all ready taken a dirt nap earlier.
= = = = = = = = = = = =
I showed up for work on Wednesday and lost my job. My boss told me, “Where the hell have you been? You left me in the lurch, Will. I opened up each morning and had to mop up all that shit myself. That was your job.”
“I’m sorry Prick, (that was his name) but I was in an accident. See these stitches?”
I showed him my head.
He just looked at me and shook his head. “Hell, that little cut ain’t nothing compared to these.” He pulled up his cowboy shirt and showed me a chest that looked like it belonged to Iggy Pop. Lines crisscrossed and others went around to the back.
“Uh, OK, but what does that have to do wi---“
“I’ll tell you what that has to do with this. You have a responsibility to your employment. You have a responsibility to call in and let a fella know that you won’t be coming in. Folks depend on you. Now I’m willing to give you a second chance, but you owe me five days of work with no pay for my troubles.”
Fuck that shit.
No, it wasn’t the money. It was everything else. I had gone through hell and come back to this shit hole to swab everyday before school?
Fuck that shit.
I stepped up to him and looked him right in the eye. “Fuck you and fuck this shit hole. I won’t be asking you for a recommendation. Shove that mop up your ass, Prick.”
Well, he got all red in the face, but I left before he could take a swing at me or someshit. I ran out and hopped on my ten speed, and looking back, I swore I could see him grinning.
What the fuck?
When I saw him later on, he told me that on that day, he’d been proud of me. He’d gotten red in the face because he was trying not to laugh. “You should have seen the look on your face, Will. You said ‘fuck you’ to a shitty job, and you stood up for yourself. You grew up a little bit. Onward to a man.”
I needed to get a job if I was going to fund my own passage back to Maine. I would not be leaving Spamela and Galen behind, of course. I know it sounded like kidnapping, and perhaps it was, but I would figure it all out once I got back home.
My mom could have that megalopolis all to her herself if she so desired. I was done with it.
Well, there was this new restaurant being built up in Clovis, just a half mile from where I lived. I’d cruised by the construction site a few times on my ten speed, on my way to Manchester Cinemas. I went to movies by myself back then. I liked the private escape.
All of a sudden, there was this huge banner proclaiming “Now Hiring” strapped across the front façade, so I pulled in and locked up my bike.
I would become hired there, you see, and that was where I met The Swallower.
Amazing word clock.
What happened in my birth year?
Funny gif files.
Two for one: yacht and supercar.
Robot Pirate Game for ya.
Hack a weak bathroom light bulb with a soda bottle. Huh.
Here are some funny ways Congress uses to blow taxpayer money: Earmarks.
Another game for ya. Ovum Defender. Kinda gross toon thing.
Meet this Eastern Congo BAMF.
Exploding Rabbit Game for ya.
God Help You.
God Help Us All.
OK, one more for ya.