There was electricity in the fog

and the faint sound of music

played quietly against a background

of voices – raised – emotions un-earthed

I wandered thru this maze

looking for a woman named Wanda

and as something invisible & unheard

guided my pen across this page

the years peeled away

exposing jagged edges around decades

of deceit and normalcy - of course

while in the back seat we loved

to the sounds we pine for – today

Leo tells me in a circular way

that my wants, desires, and fears

all come from the center

while Colo tells true tales

that astounds and amaze

and life’s little secrets lay naked on the stream

 

There was electricity in the fog

and droplets of moisture

dripped from somewhere above

leaking little blue flashes

that illuminates the faces

around my table

Leo in all his majesty,

draped in tapestry to my left

an intensified Puppy along with

Colo, Daze, & Jackson – all with a puzzled look

as they listen to the reading

about Lady Bird Johnson

who once -when- asked whether she believed in heaven -?

said – “Oh yes, I do.  I do know that there is something

hereafter, because all this has been too significant,

too magnificent,for there not be something after.

Heaven, to me, is a mystery,

a place - where - I’ll know what all this...

the events of my life – meant.”

 

Meanwhile the song was still playing

making me wonder about its name

and ‘The Tennessee Waltz’ kept coming to mind

 

There was electricity in the air

like I’d never felt before

people I’d known forever

mixed with those of you

I’ve never seen before

& as we all wondered about life together

the birds sung and the bees buzzed

in a fog that was electric

in a age like we’ll never see again

& I wept not for me

but for mankind – complete

for as sure as the sky is blue

and night follows day

we’re all destined to fall

& as we fall together – forever

I remember Leo & the rest

in a fog that was indeed…

…electric

 

 

 

 

THE NEW RESIDENCIA *** EST - 1945 EDITOR – ICE ASST. EDITOR – PUP VICE PRES = DAZE EXEC VP – SIX SCOOP REP – SCRATCH ACE REP – JOHNNIE   “So,” Leo is saying as he sits down at the patio table, with a cup of coffee.   “I was looking over your play-list on the computer, man you’ve got some good music, Ray Charles, Queen Latifah, Eagles, Brenda Lee, Hank Sr and Jr, Intruders, James Taylor, and ol Waylon.”   When neither of us said anything, he broke the silence with, “so, what’s your problem?”   I just look at him dumbly, as I start to slide into the ‘who me,’ routine that us mortals so like to do.   “Well, if you won’t tell me, I’ll tell you, he says, taking a sip of coffee.”   “Let’s see, your Number 1 ‘probmo’ has to be that you’re getting older, and those life defining questions that you’ve had all your life - are still unanswered…   “But,” he continues, as he fishes in his shirt pocket, without any live bait, for his cigarette pack, “what you need to realize - is we all have a past, which unknown to most of us, actually answers those difficult questions we have about life.”   “For example," he says; lighting a cigarette I don’t wish I had, "your latest story, the one about the girl in the ditch.”   “What about it,” I say, defensively, which is easy for him to pick up on.   “Nice to see that the cat didn’t keep your tongue, just borrowed it I guess.”   “Whatever - Circle Man, get to the point,” I say.   He laughs heartily, like you see so few people do these days, and takes another drink from his coffee cup.   “Iceman, you always accuse me of talking in circles, like some of those preacher men, when in actuality, if you’d just think about it, I’m one of the original straight-shooters.

“I guess you’ve got a point Leo, it’s just that so many say they have the answers, but nobody seems to know anymore than I do.”   Leo takes a drag from his cigarette, but his eyes never leave mine, as he says, “so tell me about the story?”   “The key element that I wanted to get across was how quickly life can change on us.” I say.   “You mean,” he says, while rubbing a invisible spot on the table, like the way yours did recently?”   “One toke over the line, Sweet Jesus.”   I’m singing along with the song, not wanting to answer his question, but deciding to do so, I shake my head in the affirmative, and smile.   “You’re really going to run for President, I ask?”   “Sure, but Colo might have had a good idea about doing so under a different name?”   “This country’s going to hell in a hand-basket, you know.”   He laughs out loud and says, “Iceman, it’s always been going to hell in a hand-basket.”   “So, I say, looking up as Pup walks out on the patio, I’ve done a little research and Stuart’s Blog, Those were the Days,’ published it’s last article on 12-05-05.’  I guess that be you, uh?”   “Yeah, it was me, but I got busy during the Christmas Season that year and never made it back to the blog, but I enjoyed it while it lasted.”   The lead-in to one of the greatest songs ever, ‘Desperado’ begins to play and we both stop what we’re doing to listen to the words that follow.   “Desperado why don’t you come to your senses, you’ve been out riding fences for so long, oh you’re a hard one; I know that you’ve got your reasons, these things that are pleasing you will hurt you somehow.”

We listen to the entire song, Leo ‘smoking and squinting,’ myself drifting somewhere off the coast of California.  Finally, after the song ends, I say, “the event that you talked about,- that happened a long time ago, which also happened on that date; what was it?”   Leo leaned back in his chair, took off his old cowboy hat, and wiped his brow; “man, it was a screwy day, the war was just finished, the big war, WWII, and we were just making a routine training flight, it shouldn’t of been a big deal.    By the way, I was listening to a talk show the other day, and they were interviewing this young school teacher, she said she was 22, anyhow, there was a 4th of July theme to the show, since it was getting close to Independence Day, and as they interviewed this school teacher, the host asked her what we were celebrating on the 4th of July.  Well, she got the ‘Independence Day thing,” right, but when he asked what was the name of the war that won our Independence, instead of saying the ‘Revolutionary War,’ she said, WWII.  God, I damn near ran into the car in front of me, WWII --!!!!… for god’s shake!  And, a teacher of all things.  I could not believe what my ears were hearing.  Un=fucking believable!” Then before I could change the station, he asked the little school-marm “from whom did we win our Independence from.”   I looked at Leo as he paused.   Then he dead-panned, “she said - France.”   “Yeah, I say, without smiling, I’m afraid our young have no idea what’s going on when it comes to our history.”   After a three second pause, Pup says, “Did she really say France?”   “Yeah Pup, she sure did, and the host said later - that it was the ‘scariest interview’ he’d ever did.”.   “It’s a damn shame,” I add, looking at Pup.   “I think they just don’t care Ice. They’re too intent on the present to worry much about what’s already happened.”   Leo looks at Pup as she finishes, and nods his head in agreement, saying, “The cold truth is they don’t care?”   “You’re just a ‘Desperado’- Iceman, like the rest of us.”   Leo is lighting yet another cigarette and smiling at me over the flame of his lighter.   “And, he says, like everyone else - your prison is walking through this world. All alone.

 

 

“Hi yourself Ice.”

 

“Would you, I say in a steady voice, mind telling me what was just going on?”

 

“Well, er, I’m actually sorry about that; I’d heard that you and Pup were thinking about getting one of those new WII games, so I thought I’d give you a shot of another kind of virtual reality.”

 

“That was a game,” I ask incredulously?

 

“Yeah sure.”  The deal is – you spray the juice in your eyes, just a dab will do you, and you’re instantly injected into a game mode; most of them last 15 minutes but you can set them for longer.”

 

“Probably can’t buy this game at Wal-Mart can I?”

 

Leo looks at me and smiles, ‘nah, I don’t think WallyWorld carries them just yet.”

 

“So, what else are you up to?”

 

“Well I know you’ve been hearing voices –again – so I thought I would offer my expertise.”

 

“That’s mighty nice of you Leo, but I was hoping you had something to do with me hearing voices.”

 

“Well, uh, er, as a matter of fact I have been playing with another new toy, “a mental telepathy thingamajig.” As he says this, he’s obviously trying to keep from laughing.

 

I smile, and say, “you don’t know how much of a relief it is – to know that instead of going crazy and hearing voices – I’m just getting fucked with by you.”

 

He just laughs as he lights a cigarette and blows smoke upwards, away from me.

 

“So, he says, “You quit the cigs?”

 

“Yeah, and never felt better.”

 

“Good for you man, good for you, I’d quit myself if I hadn’t already smoked for so many centuries, er, years I mean.”

 

I just look at him curiously, as he smokes his cigarette.

 

“December 5, 2005, I say aloud.”

 

“Oh that, - that was my last post in my one and only foray into Blogstream.”  Then he adds, “it was also the 60^th anniversary of another day in my life, a long, long time ago.”

 

As I digest this information, Leo gets up and excuses himself, telling me he needs to go see a man about an horse, but as he walks past me he says, “oh by the way, I wanted you to be the first to know, I’m running for President of the United States.”

 

I hear him speaking to Pup as he makes his way through the living room apparently headed for the bathroom. 

 

“President of the United States.” I say aloud, letting it roll over my tongue.  “President Leo…., hmm… what is his last name I wonder to myself?  He’s going to need a last name if he expects to get elected to the Presidency.  Then I laugh out loud at the thought.  Hell, this country couldn’t stand Leo as President, because he makes too much sense when he talks.

 

 

But, the voice didn’t say anything, and by the time Pup left for the kitchen, I was alone on the patio with my thoughts.  Sliding down in my chair, I close my eyes almost completely, allowing only a small sliver of sunlight in -by which to play ‘peek a boo’ with my mind - as I shift to neutral, intending on taking a short nap. The change is so quick - I instinctively think it’s a dream, and almost in the same instant – know I’m wrong, and then I wonder how I can be so blatantly wrong.

 

 My universe, once a lazy summer morning on my patio, has collapsed into a topsy – turvy galaxy, full of lights, millions and millions of lights it seems, some blinking, some burning brightly, and some as dark and cold as the blackness, which encompasses all.  As I gaze forward, sideways and behind, all I can see for as far as I can see, is a crazy world of light and darkness.  

 

Intermixed within the maze, are electrical and electronic components, which are emitting intermittent electrical flashes, giving the entire area a nightmarish look; little droplets of water are beading up on everything, spreading dampness around evenly. 

 

This mishmash of electrical components, and wires is laced with an acrid odor that seems to have a life of its own, alternating between a chemical burning smell, and the smell of rotting food.  Strangely I realize that though I can see all, I can’t see me; I seem to be – no, I ‘am’ detached from the rest of my surroundings, yet, I am in the midst of it all. In most dreams, there comes a point when you realize you’re dreaming, usually because the content of your dream is far too bizarre to be accepted as reality; the problem that I’m having now, is that my reality is indeed bizarre, and the fear that I’m feeling is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. 

 

Suddenly a wave of very warm air engulfs me, and like a raging fever, runs through me, and as I feel the heat, and hear it gushing by, it occurs to me that it would be impossible to do so without a physical body, which I don’t seem to possess at the moment.  The total stupidity of it all, blows me away, there is no way I would believe this if I were reading it like you are.

Then I hear the voice.  “Ice, Ice, my man, just be still for a second, very still.”  I do as I’m told and instantly feel an icy liquid spray in my eyes.  “Blink man, blink.”  Again I follow orders and on the second blink my reality slowly returns to my patio, and as I rub my eyes and take in the sights, the table, the chairs, I look straight into the smiling face of one of my best friends.

 

“Hello Leo, I say, long time no see.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It jolted me - to hear her say those words, and I notice for the first time – that her eyes are red as from crying, her hands on the steering wheel are ‘white-knuckled,’ and fear is being absorbed into her body by the second - like dirty sweat.  I hear the un-nerving sound of a bird singing in the far off distance, and the rumble of a truck – even before I see it – heralding it’s arrival from around the curve in the road some 40 or 50 yards in front of us.  As it comes into view, I feel time 'grindingly' slowing down, and notice the hair on my wrist for some strange reason, realizing at the same time that in an irrational way I’m wondering about the bird too.  Has it found refuge somewhere?  Then the truck is pulling to a stop within 10 feet of us, and as I take in the burly man behind the wheel, I sense rather than see… evil.

 

He is clutching a small child of about 4 or 5, to his side, in a not so loving manner.

 

Behind me, I hear the woman say; “Johnny…… oh Johnny, and I remember her earlier utterance – He’s going to kill us.”

 

And... that is when "time" – stopped.

 

“Oh, that’s so melodramatic my friend.”

 

The voice, a male voice, speaking - in my head – it seemed like, sounded familiar, but as to who it belonged to….

 

I’d just finished a chapter for a new story I was going to post on my blog.  I’d typed the last sentence, and then heard, “Oh, that’s so melodramatic my friend.” --- I damn near came unglued.  Jumping from my chair I looked all around me, but I was still alone in the house, as Pup had not gotten home from work yet.  Then, I thought - it –the voice – was coming from one of our televisions, or more likely, the other computer (Pup’s) in the house.  Nope, everything was off, except for my stereo in the living room which I had turned down low.   Then it occurred to me that maybe I was ‘hearing things,’ after all, people do, you know, hear things; right?  Finally I convinced myself that my mind had played a little trick on me, that’s all.  Still, as if my brain was a cockpit for an echo chamber, I kept repeating the words to myself for the rest of the evening, or at least I think I did, maybe in actuality I was hearing them repeated to me, I really don’t know for sure.

 

By the next day, Saturday, things were back to normal and I was back in the living room at my computer, answering comments on my blog, when out of the blue, literally from nowhere – I hear the voice again, ‘pretty cheesy story if you ask me.’

 

“Just what do you mean cheesy?” I say aloud, to an empty living room.”

 

“that is when time– stopped” - good grief Charlie Brown, can’t you do better than that?’

 

“What did you say?” It was Pup hollering from the kitchen.

 

“Nothing,” I answer back, as I look around, wondering exactly what was going on.

 

‘And, btw, “out of the blue,” is a tired old saying that nobody uses anymore except for old men in Arkansas.’

 

“Just who in the fuck are you,” I yell, …again to an empty room.

 

“Paul.”

 

I look in the direction of the voice, and see my father-in-law, Paul, walking into the living room with a cup of coffee in one hand, a doughnut in the other; as he strolls over to a chair, he looks at me in a queer way and says, “are you talking to yourself or something?”

 

‘a queer way, good god that’s awful!’

 

By now I’m steamed.  “Stay out of my writing god-damnit!” I shout.

 

Pup walks in about this time with a cup of coffee and a doughnut. 

 

Sitting the coffee on my desk she hands me the doughnut, and says,     “ what’s going on, why all the yelling?”

 

My father-in-law, a very religious man, looks at me, and shakes his head, saying, ‘shouldn’t be taking the lords name in vain.’

 

Later after my father-in-law has left, and me and Pup are sitting out on the patio finishing our coffee, I tell Pup what is going on.

 

Clearly she is taking what I say seriously, but still, I think I see a hint of a smile on her face, although I’m afraid to say anything because it’s bad enough to be hearing voices – but to be accused of ‘seeing things,’ as well, would be worse.  Suddenly I’m conscious of the fact that as I type, I feel as if someone is looking over my shoulder, critiquing how I arrange these words on the white screen.  I also realize that my story, the one about “time” stopping” is in shambles, and there is no way I’m going to be able to finish it.  Not with all this going on I say to myself.  “December 5, 2005” --------“ What!” I say, aloud, in response to the voice.

 

“December 5, 2005? What does that mean, Pup asks?”

 

“Did you hear that,” I say, excitedly, as I jump from my chair and run around the table?

 

Pup just stares at me, as I circle the table again, beginning to pick up a slight limp in my right leg (old football injury).

 

“If you keep circling this table you’re going to get the dogs to howling, she says, just as the dogs begin to howl.  “See?” she says.

 

“Did you hear him say December 5, 2005?”

 

“I, Pup says very slowly…. I heard you say December 5, 2005.”

 

“But, that’s just it darling, I didn’t say it, at least not aloud, maybe I repeated to myself when I heard it, but I didn’t say it aloud.”

 

Pup just shakes her head, as if it might have cobwebs, and then a look of puzzlement crosses her face as she says, “that date is familiar to me for some reason.”

 

“Yeah, me too, me too,” I say, looking over my shoulder, waiting for the voice to elaborate on what I was saying, or thinking perhaps.