When Leo told me that they fucking got lost, I wanted to laugh, but not a humorous laugh, it would have been a sarcastic one because his statement pissed me off, although I did a good job not showing it. But - as to what pissed me off?  Simply put, I wanted to hear an answer not a put-off. And “put off” is how I felt, so instead of laughing, I just nodded my head and looked at him, hardly an expression on my face at all.

 

Finally, he spoke, “didn’t think it was funny, eh?”

 

“Not really man, I said, don’t take me wrong Leo, but I have very little patience anymore, and when I come across people trying to sell me on a product or an idea, they always seem to want to spend time telling me how good it is, but they never get around to the actual thing itself.”

 

“Is that another way of saying you have no time for people who talk in circles?”

 

“Yeah,” I said. 

 

“You’ve accused me of talking in circles before.”

 

“Yeah, and that’s because you have.  I just don’t have time to be taken on wild goose chases.”

 

“So, you don’t believe me?”

 

“Believing and knowing are two different things, Leo. I need to know, I don’t have the faith to believe without proof.”

 

“Which is not inconsistent with your life is it Dan?”

 

He was right; I’d never believed much that I couldn’t prove, which was the main reason I’d never been a member of a church, or particular religion.

 

“But, he said, you do believe in much that can’t be proved, which you’d admit easily enough, like the fact we’ve been to the moon.”

 

“Of course, I said, but the difference is, though I can’t prove or disprove that we’ve been to the moon, whether or not it is true or not, is really inconsequential to me. I just choose to believe it probably because most everyone does, and like I said, it really doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.”

 

I continued, before he could say anything, saying, “I guess you’d say I pick and chose what I want to believe, based on how much it affects me, which is true, but that’s the way I am.”

 

“So, he said, holding up a hand in front of his face, inspecting his fingernails, when faced with a situation without proof, your decision to believe or not to believe is based on whether or not it has a direct affect on you? In other words, he continued, you have to be able to prove something to believe it, except for those things that don’t affect you?”

 

“For example, he said with a wry smile, you believe 2 + 2 = 4, but if I told you it equaled five, you would not believe it, because you could not prove it to yourself?”

 

“That’s-“ I began….....

 

“A way of putting it,” Leo said, which was what I was going to say, before he’d interrupted me. 

 

I just looked at him, and he looked at me.

 

He read my mind, I thought.

 

“Mental Telepathy, is what it’s called,” he said.

 

I scooted back my chair, causing a screeching sound, and jumped up, never taking my eyes off of him. “What the fuck?”

 

“Could one say, he said drolly, that you now believe 2+2 = 5?”

 

“How’d you do that?” I asked.

 

Doesn’t matter how I done it Dan, what matters is that I did it.

 

“It’s some kind of trick,” I said, looking at him for confirmation.

 

No trick Dan.

 

It was then, as I watched him closely, that I realized that he was not actually saying anything, I was hearing him in my head.

 

Again, in my head, - you’re right Dan, I’m not talking to you, but I’m definitely communicating with you.

 

“This is weird,” I finally managed.

 

“Then,” he said, aloud, “I’ll speak to you instead of projecting my thoughts.”

 

“You might feel better if you sit down,” he said.

 

“Okay,” I said, and as I sat down at the table, I noticed my hand shaking as I reached for my drink.

 

“You see, he said, you can’t prove Mental Telepathy to yourself, but it’s affecting you, so you are forced to believe it.”

 

As I sat there dumbfounded, he continued, “yet if you were to try and convince someone that Mental Telepathy exists, it would be like trying to convince them that 2+2=5.”

 

“My point Dan, is, you want proof to believe what I tell you, but the only way to prove it to you is to demonstrate it, like I did with the Mental Telepathy thing, but how am I to prove that I was one of the lost twelve without demonstrating it to you?”

 

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head, thinking how much the whole thing reminded me of when as a teenager, the preacher of the church I attended, (forced on me by my parents) kept telling me that I had to have faith.”

 

“The age old dilemma, to have faith, or not,” Leo said.

 

“Why is it so hard to have,” I asked?

 

Why is it necessary to have?

 

I looked at Leo quickly, had he said it, or was he projecting the thought? I wasn’t sure, I hadn’t been watching him that close.

 

When you require nothing less than proof to believe something, then you will only believe that which can be proved.

 

I’d been watching him this time; he’d not said anything, so, it was his thoughts I was listening to again.  I continued to look at him as he looked at me, both of us smoking our cigarettes in the silence.

 

“Tell me, I said, aloud, about the woman named Jackie, who was traveling alone, and who everyone loved.”

 

“You want to know about her because of her name, right?”

 

“Yes, I said, I find it odd that a woman in 1846 had such a modern sounding name, although I realize it’s short for Jacqueline.”

 

It’s also a slang form of Jack or John, which in this case - was exactly what it was, for Jackie was actually posing as a man who was known as John Duncan.

 

Go on I thought.

 

And he did….

 

Jackie was a beautiful lady of 40 something, I never knew her exact age, but she was posing as a man, in his forties, and she was an expert with make-up and clothes. Nobody but a few had a clue she was anything other than what she projected. Many of us figured that she had come from the stage or somewhere similar; in any event, her disguise as I said was excellent.

 

She was on the run from somebody, I never knew exactly, but it was obvious she was running from instead of to. But I know the reason she was running.

 

Pausing for a drink, Leo looked into the darkness, and another match came alive in his hand; lighting his cigarette he looked at me and said, aloud, “she was an alchemist.”

 

I came home tonight and Pup was doing better, and immediately I’m doing better, hence this post, and the Crown on my desk.  Don’t worry Colo… I’ll go light on it.

 

Somebody commenting on my last blog asked about “The Lost Twelve,” I think it was Scratchomo, but anyway…. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I read the comment.  What did happen to “The Lost Twelve?”

 

Back on the patio with Leo, the thought comes over me that I’ve been talking to one of the “lost twelve”….

 

Did I tell you?  I think Leo is one of the lost twelve.

 

God! I wish I were one.  Don’t you?

 

But, if like me, you’re not, are we? Then the next best thing is to be with one, right?

 

Which we are – and as he walks back over to the table where I sit, I know that the rest of you are here too, ready for a ride, always ready for a ride aren’t we?

 

“Want something other than that beer,” he says.

 

I look at him and see the bottle of Crown in his hand, and say, “some of that will work.”

 

“So Colo thinks you drink too much, eh?”

 

“She did, I said, until I interviewed her and told her I didn’t drink and smoke near as much as I put on.”

 

“Oh, he said, as he poured me some brown glory, so that comment at the beginning of this blog is a dig at her or something?”

 

Chuckling a little, I look at him and say, “how would you know about the comment? I’ve not written it yet.

 

“Oh but you’re wrong my friend, you’re writing it now, just like your life is unfolding as we speak.”

 

“Like yours … back in 1846,” I say, almost in a whisper.

 

A match strikes, flaming to life in Leo’s hand, as he smiles at me, the yellow light …flickering, alone in the dark.

 

“Yeah Dan… like in 1846.”

 

“I left Missouri early that year, headed for California. Man! Was I ready! Missouri was full of fever-invested swamps back in those days, the weather perpetually lousy, and I was 22, single, and knew that I wanted to see more, and go everywhere.

 

The only way I ever thought of making the trip was by Wagon train, although it was slow going; it would only average 10miles a day in good weather, less if caught in the rains, making the entire trip around six months.  But it was far more safer than going it alone or with just a few, those damn Indians were savages don’t let anyone kid you.

 

I could see a chill come over his face as he spoke these words, and as he dragged on his cigarette I looked into the fire, and felt fear... lurking about, and then he smiled, blowing smoke, saying, “but they really weren’t the problem, it was the fucking weather that messed with us the most. 

 

I wanted to hear more about the Indians, so pushing a little, I said, “tell me about the Indians Leo.”

 

“You lived in fear of a bunch of them on you, one on one I wasn’t scared of any man, but to be caught in the open by yourself , or badly outnumbered by Indians was a death sentence.  We all lived in mortal fear of it.

 

The strange thing was that in  the previous year only four emigrants had been killed by Indians - but 20 Indians had been killed by emigrants. Still the fear was there, and it was strong.  Frances and me never trusted them.

 

“Frances,” I say, “who’s Frances?”

 

“Think of your Scracthomo, that’s who Frances was.”

 

“Scratch is someone I know through the blog, so I guess you’re talking about his..head?”

 

“Yeah that’s the way I knew Frances too, isn’t that the way you know everyone?”

 

“You’re asking questions you know and I know the answers to now,” I said, pouring some more whiskey.

 

“Not everyone is open to knowing you that way,” he admitted, along with a slight nod of his head, “but good friends know each other that way, at least the people I’m good friends with.”

 

I started to say, “but Leo I don’t know you that way,” but realized in time, that I really didn’t know him at all, and then wondered if it was possible, that I never would.

 

“I wouldn’t of made it through that winter, he was saying, I’d died in the snow….”

 

And then  abruptly - he changed directions  - by saying, “Me and the group I was with had decided to take the conventional route, but Frances was pleading with us, begging us to take the short-cut, so for some reason I decided to go with him, which was all he really wanted anyway, and when I did, eleven others did too, and so we headed back to catch up with the Donner Party.

 

9 women and 4 men, three of the women had been posing as men, which I knew about, as did Frances and a few of the others, but it didn’t bother us none.

 

Jean and Jenny were sisters, Jackie was by herself, but everyone loved her; Sarah, Beth, Betty, Louise, and the two Mary’s were all traveling together from Kansas.

 

Frances, me, Leon, and a guy by the name of Pierce were the only men, but like I say - three of the women had been posing as men, so to the rest it looked like 7 men and

6 women.  Seems like a small thing now, but back then 9 women could of never left the camp with only 4 men.

 

“So, I say, what happened?”

 

“Well,” Leo says, running a hand through his hair, “we fucking got lost.”

 

T  H    E    New Residencia   Editor – Ice Dep Editor – PuP Vice Pres. – Daze Exec VP/Med Consult – Six StoryLine – Whit Asst Story Line – Rod Serling Scoop Reporter – Scratchomo Ace Reporter – Jonnie Chief Art Director – Lucy   Editor’s Note – it has been quite some time since I’ve been able to post a continuation of my story, much to my displeasure, but, alas, another issue is here.  To refresh your memory in case you’ve forgotten, we return now to the patio of one of Ice’s friends on the west coast, scene of a semi-fiery confrontation between Ice and one of his High School chums, the one and only D.A. of L.A. county. When we left them, the D.A. had just received a phone call, and had walked away leaving Ice and Leo standing on the patio conversing about… things.  So, return with me to those thrilling days of not so long ago….. The same phone call that had temporarily taken Roger from our presence was also responsible for him having to return to his office a few minutes later; “a big break in a case,” is what he told us, and, as he and Keala left together, me and Leo could only exchange raised eyebrows.   Collin, complaining of a headache said he was returning to his Hotel, leaving Leo and myself alone on the patio.   As I stood - gazing at the ocean, full darkness dropping all around, I said, “I love the smell of the ocean.”   Leo didn’t say anything, just pulled on his cigarette, the fiery red tip glowing.   “Leo,” I said, pausing to look at him, before continuing, “I’ve always wondered what this life is about, and I’ve always thought you might tell me someday.”   “Ever been told something you didn’t understand”, he said with a slight smile.   “Yeah…. I said, chuckling; “like the bullshit I heard tonight. “   “Well… maybe I can explain this in a way you’ll understand,” he said. “What do you think of when you smell rain?”   I looked at him, but he was just a dark shadow, staring into the night’s eye.   When I didn’t answer, he answered himself; “you think of the past.”   “Yeah,” I said in agreement.   “The smell of rain is a melancholy whiff of another time,” he said, his voice a low whisper. "Dan…  you spend a lot of time worrying about what’s to come, though you can do nothing about it; you just have to ride it out.”   “Oh I don’t mind the excitement,” I said, “I just want to know where it’s all going, and … why.”   “Why do you think you don’t?” Leo said.   “Don’t start that circle jerk stuff on me, please,” I said, with a half laugh.   He laughed too, and reaching in his pocket for smokes, said, “I won’t circle tonight, it’ll be straight.”   “Why don’t we sit at the table Dan,” he said, as he suddenly turned, and walked toward the table.   “You know you don’t know, because you don’t know the answer to the question,” he said, after we’d sat down at the table, adding, “all you know - being just speculation.”   “Yeah, I said, and people cling to that speculation like it’s a life raft in the ocean.”   But…” and he held his hand up, red glow of the cigarette like a small beacon in the night.  “But, only because they would drown without it,” and before you ask: the reason that not all people need it, like yourself for example, is… your mind keeps you up.”   “And… there’s nothing wrong with being that way, until, you begin to wonder how much longer you can keep yourself up.”   “You know Leo,” I said, this is kind of like talking to myself.”   “Dan,” his voice a little louder than before, although still a bit raspy, “the experiment of what we know as life, started a long time ago, in a place so far from here I cannot even begin to say; and yet I feel as if it’s right here, in the air, tonight.   There is a “reason,” for everything that happens, and we know that for every action, there is a cause, or maybe reason is a better word. Remember Janis singing about a little piece of my heart?”   Before I could answer he went on.   “Most of us never even give that much, instead, we live from day one - to the last one - completely enclosed in our own little cocoon, safe and sound.”   Naturally you are aware of the action, for you see life all around you; everywhere, but it’s the “cause” you search for, and because the answer to the question is unknown, it becomes mysterious, and sometimes dark.”   “Mysterious and dark,” he said, repeating the line, then, “like you Dan.”

“Yeah Dan, what everyone misses - is that we all hold back, some like Colo, holds back less, but even she holds something in reserve.”   “Why is that, Leo?” I said, riding his train of thought.    “Mainly because we all have traits that we don’t trust the majority with, although a few are lucky enough to have a friend or two that they’ll entrust their entire psyche to, but even then, we “still” hold a little back.”   “But what’s that got to do with the mystery of life….”?   “Everything!”  He exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table, causing me to grab my beer in mid-air, as I marveled at an intensity in this man I’d never seen before.    “The experiment is to cause you to broaden your mind, and expand your presence outward, meeting each other in the process.”   “Experiment,” I said slowly, “do you mean …”   “Yes, Dan, the reason for life.   I just stared at him, this man who I’d known for so long, yet, didn’t know at all. I wanted to reach out and touch him, his arm, the rough skin of his neck; I wanted to feel him, to see if he was real. It was stunning for me to hear what he was saying, but as I began to grasp the concept, the thought itself seemed to engulf me.  And as I rambled down that dusty corridor, I couldn’t help but think, “I’d asked for it.” “Everything we know of” he was saying,  - “that lives, is striving upward, which is what life is, a constant striving to do more, know more. There are 6,000,000,000 people in the world, and what we are trying to do - is to “connect” all of them at once…with each other and with all other life.  Can you imagine it?” “Everyone – Everything communicating with each other, with each breath, with each thought, nothing held back, all knowledge available for everyone… everything alive.” My mind was not reeling as you might expect, instead, I was relaxing internally, which is what Leo had always referred to as leveling; I must admit that it was a high like I’d never experienced before, and I couldn’t wait to hear more.  “Let’s go back,” he was saying to me, his words catching up to my thoughts and causing me to focus on what he was saying, even as I wondered if anyone would believe this - when and if - I ever repeated it. Some will, some won’t, which is the reason most never understand it, even when they hear it. “Back to the smell of rain," Leo is saying, as I struggled with what I’d just heard, or thought I’d heard, which had interlaced with his comment about the rain. Remember the question?” The question hung in the air, as I looked at Leo and wondered for the first time if he’d spoken out loud or not. “About the smell of rain,” he said. “Yes,” I said, “I remember the question and your answer, “the smell of rain makes me think of the past.” “Why do you think that is so,” he said, his eyes drifting away, and then back to mine. “I don’t know,” I said, stammering a little. “Rain is essential to life Dan,” he said, not unlike a teacher to a pupil; “without it, everything alive dies, but it is also a soothing balm to our souls, it mellows us out, causes us to stop and reflect a little, it reminds us of another time, another place.. another life; Remember Dan, there is a reason for everything, and sometimes more than one.” “Is that why we have music,” I asked, trying to grasp the basic element of what he was saying? “The reason for music is simple, it’s a way of communication, which is our goal.” Leo took a drink from his beer and in the pause, I recalled how we’d talked one night at length, about his love of music, and his intense disappointment in the fact that some people could not enjoy it much at all. I now felt like I understood the reason for that disappointment. Suddenly I understood many things better, and in my excitement - I blurted out, “Why don’t you tell the world then!” “Cause the world wouldn’t believe it, regardless of the messenger, and, if everyone understood the answer – then no one would strive to find the answer, thus, the expansion we want would never happen.  It has to be this way Dan,” he added, as he stood up and walked toward the edge of the patio again, leaving me at the table with a multitude of thoughts. The revelations by Leo, that at first seemed to sooth me, now caused confusion to run rampant in my mind.  Could it all be so simple?  Could I ask for an answer and get one that easily?  Somehow I didn’t think so, yet, Leo was a trusted friend, and one that I’d long suspected of being from another time, another place, and possessing a greater intelligence, one that I could not begin to fully understand. Now as the black night wrapped itself around me, even the stars were in hiding, and I knew this night, and conversation with Leo, was just beginning.

 

 

WoW! Just been looking through some comments on my last blog. Seems "my public" is getting restless, lol.

Thanks for all the nice comments....

I spent the weekend trying to sell Puppies, but for some reason I only sold 2 out of 5 and still have 3 left. Anybody want to buy a puppy? lol..

In any event the hot summer sun (which has cooled from the blistering heat wave we had been going through) really took it out of me plus the 560 mile round trip, so.... my previous "prediction" of a new issue of "Leo and Friends" was "premature" to say the least, but ... I am going to try to make it in the next day or two. Again thanks for the comments.

PuP is scheduled for some "Physical Therapy" on Wednesday at 2:30p.m. which was the best we could do in the little "podunk" town we live.

She is pretty much "disabled" from doing anything, don't let her kid you about that. We are being told (by the Doc) to be "patient" and we will for a little while, but if the Physical Therapy does not help soon, I foresee me loading her up and carrying her to Dallas to get in front of a specilist.

Thanks for all the comments to her blog and mine - wishing her a speedy recovery.

We hope to have her back up and running soon.....

thanks again

Ice

The New Residencia

 

Editor – Ice

Dep Editor – Pup

Storyline – Rod Sterling

Verification Expert - Whit

Vice Pres. – Daze

Exec VP – Six

Scoop Reporter – Scratchoma

Ace Reporter – Jonnie

Chief of Creative Branch – Lucy

p.s. this is in addition to her duties

as Chief Engineer/Custodian

 

The New Residencia would like to announce that it is the birthday of one “Prairie Prankster,” so yall go on over there to the “Party.” Lol

 

Also… since the recent illness of the “rag’s” Dep Editor, and Ice’s needing to attend to her, plus a “puppy selling event this coming weekend in the big city, the next installment of “Leo and the gang” from out there in California, is not expected to hit the “stands,” until probably late Sunday night (23 July) or maybe Monday, the 24^th. 

 

I do appreciate all the great comments/compliments on the “rag,” and I do appreciate your patience…..

 

For the time being – Enjoy yourselves, Pranks Birthday, and the coming “Weekend.”

 

And remember ….   “ to keep on buying this rag”

 

Thanks

 

Ice, Editor In Chief