Huntington Blues

It was real sadistic shit. The birds in a stir. A broken crow thrashed about screaming with black, bleeding, frilled feathers. It rolled onto the grass. For a second, still and squawking. Then a final shutter, curling beak first into the earth. A solemn silence tagged me but Ulie rolled around with uncontained delight.

I shook off that ugly scene and went inside. The walls were closing in again. Frantic decision. I jumped into my crap covered, side view cracked car attempting to leave the walls behind.

Parked at the beach, waiting, staring. A man pulls up in a mini-van beside me and asks if I'd seen two black dogs around. I thought for a moment, hmm, vaguely, but I couldn't recall. No sorry. He drove away in haste. Then, yes, wait a minute, I did, actually, down by the bridge earlier, shit. Didn't think much of it at the time. Oh well, I hope he finds them.

Marcos was preparing some desserts for a table when I waltzed into the kitchen, wrapped my mouth around the can of whip cream and pulled the trigger. The Chicanos didn't understand what I was doing. Inhale deep. Arms out, head back. Frozen for about thirty seconds, a goofy smile, a soft buzz, a sigh. A muffled murmur from inside my mind. I looked around at a confused room and dropped the spent can in the garbage. Es necesario. The cooking continued.

Unable to escape. Bitter faces curled in every direction on the street and sidewalk. Stopped. Suddenly in the company of happy-hour high-strung office jockeys and starched-up weekend warriors. Can there be more Beamers and Benzos to surround and contrast my modest '89 champagne Maxima? Because I don't think there's enough. Self-important pricks. Caught; in the middle of an Audi parallel parking, holding up traffic, while a 5 series and a Lex honked each other into oblivion. Time melted under the afternoon heat. And those Range Rover MILFs ran rampant around the region as all the flags flew at half staff.

Damn that's an ugly baby, I said to myself standing before a boorish boss' unfortunate son on my day off. The best compliment I could come up with; "Looks like it's going to be a strong child." The baby looked up with its oversized forehead. Its name was Giovanni. I was six drinks down. Someone laughed and I slipped out back, over the wall.

Sunday, just about to take my friend to the train station, I let Ulie out for a midday scamper. He rushed right back in with a limp, little chipmunk clamped between his teeth. Poor thing. It was still alive though, heart beating in the corner. So now I had to get this tiny, terrified critter out. I locked Ulie upstairs and went in with a large pair of tongs and a rubber glove. I probed the radiator where it hid. Reaching for its tail I must have given the little furry ass a good poke because it jumped right out of the radiator and ran free, straight out the door. It got away. I was relieved.

 

Please feel free to express any and all memories or stories concerning Wyles at the 1 Tuff Message Board.