<\/p>\n
I got the call at 4:30 am:\u00a0 “I’ve stolen her.”\u00a0 It was James, the old college buddy I needed to get rid of.\u00a0 “I replaced her with a nurse.\u00a0 I switched clothes, see, and just walked her out.\u00a0 Put the nurse in the bed, doped her good, doped her real good.\u00a0 Thought about jamming the feeding tube down her throat.”<\/p>\n
“What the fuck are you — ”<\/p>\n
“The girl!\u00a0 The girl in the news!\u00a0 The creepy starey girl.\u00a0 The bed wetter — The Living Motherfucking Corpse, baby.”<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
“I’ve got her.\u00a0 I stole her.”<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
“What-what-what!\u00a0 Is this What Day?\u00a0 I’m at your fucking front door!\u00a0 Open up!”<\/p>\n
“You’ve stolen a corpse?”<\/p>\n
“No!\u00a0 The news girl!\u00a0 She’s not a corpse.\u00a0 She can smile and shudder and piss herself.\u00a0 Far from corpse-like behavior.\u00a0 More like you after a bad Saturday.\u00a0 Come on!”<\/p>\n
I tip-toed through the house, where not a creature was stirring, and unlocked the front door.\u00a0 James blundered in, dragging Terry Schiavo in a nurse’s uniform.\u00a0 “Flat tits!”\u00a0 He hissed in my ear, letting her tumble to the floor with a bone-shattering crash.\u00a0 I stood staring for a moment.<\/p>\n
“Drink?” He handed me his hip flask.<\/p>\n
I took a long swallow, gathered my wits, then turned to him, “What have you done?”<\/p>\n
“It’s like a college prank,” he replied.\u00a0 “You know, like, stealing the mascot.\u00a0 They won’t miss her till the morning.”<\/p>\n
“You drove her up here from Florida?”<\/p>\n
“I find the drive relaxing.\u00a0 I often go to Florida.\u00a0 Usually I just sleep in my car for an hour then turn around.\u00a0 The point is, we’ve got her now.\u00a0 Let’s write a ransom note!\u00a0 We can demand something strange and frivolous!\u00a0 Like slices of white American cheese.”<\/p>\n
“They make that.”<\/p>\n
“Okay, blue then!\u00a0 I don’t fucking know.\u00a0 You’re the brains<\/em>, man.”<\/p>\n “Woah, woah, woah!\u00a0 I ain’t nothing in this, sweetheart.\u00a0 This is your corpse.”<\/p>\n “She’s not a corpse.” He cleared his throat, then mumbled, “She had a bowel movement on the way up.”\u00a0 He looked down at her, “It was strange.\u00a0 Somehow calming, though.\u00a0 Peaceful.\u00a0 The gentle flow of shit.\u00a0 Like some sort of zen-like — ”<\/p>\n “James!\u00a0 This is kidnapping.”<\/p>\n “Is it kidnapping or grave robbing, Nach?\u00a0 We’ll let the fucking United States Government decide that point after a days long debate, during which the world collapses without anyone noticing.\u00a0 But, for right now, we need to face the facts.\u00a0 You’ve got stare girl in your house and, any moment now, someone’s going to notice what’s happened.\u00a0 It’ll be all over the news.”<\/p>\n “So we’re fucked.”<\/p>\n James leaned in close, his lips to my ear, “Unless you call someone who controls the news…”<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n I wouldn’t usually do what I did.\u00a0 Under the circumstances, it seemed that I had no choice.\u00a0 We dragged Terry to the kitchen and propped her up in one of the chairs at the table, then I grabbed the wall phone and dialed a number I swore I would never call again.<\/p>\n The other end picked up after one ring, but no one spoke.\u00a0 Instead, I listened to about ten seconds of \u2018ohGr’ before I finally took the initiative:\u00a0 “Oscar?”<\/p>\n “Nacho?”\u00a0 Texas Billionaire Oscar bin Laden sounded the same as ever.<\/p>\n “Yeah.”<\/p>\n “Allah be praised, I’ haven’t heard from you in -”<\/p>\n “Look, Oscar, I need a favor.\u00a0 I need a cover up news story.”<\/p>\n “Great Society finally get hit by the FBI?”<\/p>\n “No.\u00a0 James stole Terry Schiavo.”<\/p>\n “Old Tubey?”\u00a0 OBL laughed for several long seconds, “Oh, no.\u00a0 That James!\u00a0 What won’t<\/em> he do?”<\/p>\n “That’s what we say about you.\u00a0 And that’s why I’m calling!”<\/p>\n “Nacho, please, the whole thing with me, it’s a misunderstanding.\u00a0 I’m an upstanding citizen with oil interests in Iraq, Afghanistan, Chechnya and New Jersey.\u00a0 Just like many other loyal Americans.\u00a0 Are you on a cell phone?”<\/p>\n “Oscar, I need help.\u00a0 Seriously.”<\/p>\n “Are you on a cell phone?<\/em>”<\/p>\n “No.”<\/p>\n “Okay, I’ll send Ali and the boys.\u00a0 Make sure you have a suitcase of unmarked, mixed denomination bills prepared.”<\/p>\n “How much?<\/p>\n “Forty dollars.”<\/p>\n “What?”<\/p>\n “Gas money.\u00a0 Maybe burgers and soda.\u00a0 Ali has low blood sugar.”<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n James and I switched to coffee at dawn, Terry still perched at the table.\u00a0 On a lark, he pulled off her shirt and left her leaning backwards in the chair.<\/p>\n “Flat,” he said.\u00a0 “It’s hideous.\u00a0 Yet, I watch then, rise gently…every breath…like a corpse…of life!”<\/p>\n “Fuck, James…”<\/p>\n “I don’t expect someone like you to appreciate fine poetry.\u00a0 All I ask is that you remain silent while I compose.\u00a0 It’s a very delicate task, which you don’t understand because you clobber sentences together as if they were unruly dogs.”<\/p>\n My grandfather, wearing skimpy underwear and a wife beater, wandered in at that moment.\u00a0 He stopped dead.\u00a0 The topless vegetable at the table, head lolled back, spit trailing down her cheek.\u00a0 James and I, clutching each other, staring back as if we’d been caught diddling an infant.\u00a0 For an intense and powerful minute, we held that pose.\u00a0 Then he furrowed his brow, pursed his lips, and turned around back to the bedroom.<\/p>\n “Narrow miss,” James muttered, “I thought he’d see us for sure.”<\/p>\n “What?”<\/p>\n “It is What Day!”<\/p>\n Several rapid knocks at the front door nearly brought us out of our skin.\u00a0 I ran to the front of the house and let Ali and the boys in.<\/p>\n “With me,” I said, leading them to the kitchen.\u00a0 I pointed at Terry, “So James stole Terry Schiavo and now they’re going to find out and we need to – ”<\/p>\n Ali held up a hand, nodding as if he knew all about the problem.\u00a0 He tilted his head and his team grabbed Terry, dragging her out.\u00a0 Then he put out his palm.<\/p>\n “Forty bucks, James.” I mumbled.<\/p>\n “How \u2018bout the latest Tori Amos album?”<\/p>\n Ali nodded enthusiastically and snatched the CD when James pulled it out from under his coat.\u00a0 He slung his rifle on his shoulder, nuzzled the Tori album and ran off.<\/p>\n James smiled sheepishly at me, “Strongest currency in the Mid-East.\u00a0 Let’s go.”<\/p>\n “No!”<\/p>\n “Hey, Terry’s my find, Mr. Hornblower.\u00a0 I’m not going to let those bloody wogs claim the prize!”<\/p>\n I put my hands to my head, “James!\u00a0 The prize is a jail cell!”<\/p>\n “To me!”\u00a0 He shouted, racing to the front of the house and onto the driveway.\u00a0 I followed, being foolish and weak, and we piled into the back of Ali’s nondescript white van.\u00a0 One of Ali’s boys handed me a cell phone.\u00a0 It was Oscar bin Laden on the other end.<\/p>\n “Has the package been collected?”<\/p>\n “Terry’s – ”<\/p>\n “Sshh! Cell phone!”<\/p>\n “Sorry.”<\/p>\n “The chair is against the door.”<\/p>\n “What?\u00a0 Oscar, I – ”<\/p>\n “The chair<\/em> is against the door<\/em>.”<\/p>\n I held the cell phone away from me, then put it back against my ear.\u00a0 “I don’t – ”<\/p>\n “The farmer<\/em> plows the field<\/em> uphill.”<\/p>\n “Oscar!”<\/p>\n “Over and out.”<\/p>\n Ali slammed the van into reverse and we were on my road and away before I could hand the phone back.\u00a0 Though, for all the fancy driving, we only made it about ten miles, into downtown Silver Spring, before James started screaming and shaking. Ali hit the breaks and we screeched to a stop along Georgia Avenue, Terry’s body flinging forward and crashing against the seats.<\/p>\n “Quarry House!” James shouted.<\/p>\n I looked at Ali, then at James.<\/p>\n James tilted his head, “A drink!”<\/p>\n “It’s morning.\u00a0 We have an undead corpse here, which you kidnapped or grave robbed or whatever.\u00a0 We’re in a van full of international – ”\u00a0 I saw Ali tense out of the corner of my eye, ” – entrepreneurs.\u00a0 Come on!”<\/p>\n James crawled forward, putting his hand close to my face and holding his thumb and forefinger about a quarter inch apart, “Just a…just a wee thimbleful.\u00a0 So much to ask for such a dear friend?”<\/p>\n “We can’t leave old tubey in the car.”<\/p>\n “We’ll walk her in.\u00a0 Weekend at Bernie’s<\/em> trick.\u00a0 Easy.”<\/p>\n “Is the Quarry House even open?”<\/p>\n “They are.\u00a0 Do you know how I know?”<\/p>\n “Because you’re drinking yourself to death?”<\/p>\n James grinned, “To quote you:\u00a0 \u2018What?'”<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n Ali took one side and I took the other and we walked Terry a quarter block to the Quarry House, then followed James down the narrow steps and into the basement bar.\u00a0 We had to duck to get in, but forgot about Terry.\u00a0 She cracked her head against one of the overhead pipes.<\/p>\n “Dude!\u00a0 She shuddered!” I called ahead to James.<\/p>\n “Just a bowel movement!”\u00a0 He called back.\u00a0 “Hey, make sure you didn’t break her neck.”<\/p>\n We all took a seat at Magical Table One and the morning waitress breezed by.\u00a0 I ordered the winter ale, as did James.\u00a0 It was the strongest beer around.\u00a0 Ali and the boys all ordered water.\u00a0 Then the waitress looked at Terry, whose head had lobbed forward onto her chest, spit flowing freely down the front of her shirt.<\/p>\n “Um…” the waitress looked strangely at us.<\/p>\n James curled back his lips and spoke slowly through clenched teeth.\u00a0 “My friend will have a Coca-Cola.”<\/p>\n Ali closed his eyes as if in pain when the cell phone rang.\u00a0 He flipped it open, listened, then handed it to me.<\/p>\n “So, all okay?”\u00a0 Oscar asked.<\/p>\n “Just fine, Oscar.\u00a0 We brought her to a bar.”<\/p>\n Ali squeezed past with his Tori Amos CD and spoke softly to the bartender.\u00a0 It only took a few seconds to get some keening on the stereo.<\/p>\n “Is that Tori Amos?” Oscar asked.<\/p>\n “Yes.”<\/p>\n “You’re there with Ali?”<\/p>\n “Yes.”<\/p>\n “Oh, Nacho.\u00a0 Oh, Nacho, Nacho.”<\/p>\n Ali pulled up his shirt, tying it off at his sternum, then he began undulating his hairy stomach and dancing some bizarre tribal belly dance, pulling out a curved knife.<\/p>\n “I know what’s happening,” Oscar said.\u00a0 “It’s the new album, right?\u00a0 The Beekeeper.”<\/p>\n “Uh…” I was transfixed by Ali’s hideously homosexual dance, his free hand running to his crotch, rubbing himself, the curved knife playing across his stomach, his impossibly long tongue flicking towards me as he moved his body in some terrible mockery of a dance.<\/p>\n I put the cellphone down on the table.<\/p>\n “We need our beers to come, I think,” James muttered.\u00a0 “Everything will be much easier, then.\u00a0 Everything will be much easier then.\u00a0 Everything will be – ”<\/p>\n I looked over at him, his eyes focused on middle space, rocking back and forth and chanting his mantra.<\/p>\n I was going to shake him out of it, but my eyes were drawn, car-crash-fast, to Ali, rolling his body to Tori.<\/p>\n When I come to terms to terms with this Ali tore off his shirt, began to spin wildly with that wicked Arabian knife, then he came towards us, thrusting his crotch towards me repeatedly.\u00a0 I watched the knife glint as he spun it beneath the lights then, without any sense of reality, James screamed for his beer.\u00a0 He stood, pushing me forward into Ali.\u00a0 My face connected with Ali’s crotch and, as I reeled back into James, knocking him back towards the floor, I watched the curved dagger rise through the air.<\/p>\n Someone, somewhere, screamed, “Your retarded friend!”\u00a0 But it was too late.\u00a0 The knife came down and slammed into the back of Terry’s skull, digging in about four inches.<\/p>\n “Oh!”\u00a0 James shouted from the floor, looking up at Terry’s blank face, “Party foul!”<\/p>\n Ali, tenderly, pulled the knife out of her skull as the waitress rushed over, screeching and threatening to call an ambulance.\u00a0 I placed a hand on her shoulder,<\/p>\n “Old tubey’s a tough bird.\u00a0 We’ll just take her home.”<\/p>\n I don’t know what happened.\u00a0 I don’t really follow the news anymore.\u00a0 I mean, I scan and see if the Pope’s dead or if we’re involved in some new war.\u00a0 I like to read the foreign press and see what’s going on in the world.\u00a0 Sometimes, I get really involved in Nepal and all those weird places.\u00a0 You know, the places I’d like to see some day.\u00a0 I’ve always dreamed of trekking in Bhutan, so I stop and read articles about them.\u00a0 Sometimes a friend sends along some silly local story.\u00a0 As for Terry Schiavo, I never pay attention.\u00a0 Maybe a part of me is afraid to look too closely.<\/p>\n James and I left her in a bus stop in Silver Spring.\u00a0 Despite the knife to the head, she seemed okay.\u00a0 It was hard to tell.\u00a0 She cried, so I guess that was acknowledging her wound.\u00a0 James swears she squeezed his hand, but he was a little hopped up on my prescription painkillers at that point.\u00a0 I just turned away and told Ali to drive us home.\u00a0 It was 9am by the time I hit my house again, dragged myself past my grandfather who glanced over at me but didn’t speak, and then hit the sack.\u00a0 As always, James had screwed up my sleep patterns.\u00a0 Something that takes me weeks to correct.\u00a0 I have a delicate constitution.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[352],"tags":[353,179],"class_list":["post-2488","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-gsarchive","tag-gs-archive-2004-2008","tag-james"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2488","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2488"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2488\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2804,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2488\/revisions\/2804"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2488"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2488"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2488"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nWhen I come to terms with this
\nWhen I come to terms with this whip lash
\nof silk on wool embroidery<\/em><\/p>\n