Monday, March 23, 2015
For all my yapping and chest puffing, Clay knew better. I wasn’t fond of confrontation and embraced my native guy streak of laziness. Non natives saw it as lazy but we called it pacing.
“What ya thinkin’ now Ain’t It?” asked Clay. His smug look dared me to answer or challenge his rhetorical question.
“I’m thinking this whole thing’s pretty much out of my control so lead on scout. Give me some idea of what your way of doing things might look like.
Grabbing the pill bottle, Clay shook it rhythmically like a gourd rattle and hummed a faked native tune. He walked to the cabinet above the coffee maker and placed the bottle inside.
“I’m puttin’ these here see. I think, if you truly want my real story, you’re gonna hafta meet the brain trust. They don’t like them pills ya know so I gotta stop taking ‘em. Get it?”
Bummed, I nodded anyway, his way and all that. A disturbing image came to mind. I saw two large glass measuring cups of 1 quart capacity sitting on the table, one for Clay, one for me. A bell rings and as if racing, we take the tops of our heads off and remove our brains. Wringing insanity from them and into our cups we see whose cup has more. I lost.
“Ain’t It, Ain’t It, HEY Ain’t It, ya with me bro?” asked Clay trying to get my attention.
“Huh? Oh, yes, I follow. But…ahem…can I ask a question without you thinking I’m criticizing your plan?”
Clay sat down and drummed his fingers on the table. They looked like little knobby soldiers doing a precision rifle drill. Toby appeared from the insect condos located somewhere under the table. He was no doubt using the one vacated by roach. That would be the native thing to do. Toby did a grass dance this time and honored me.
“Traitor,” says Clay to Toby who took offense and left. “Yah alright Migizi, ask away.”
I smiled and answered.
“His Favorite Gal knows the brain trust better than anyone including you. She’s off taking a break from it all. This tells us both how exhausting it must be to deal with you when you’re off the meds. That’s one thing. The thing I’m concerned about is how violent or harmful this, you, can get. We don’t need you getting kenneled up downtown. Should I be concerned?”
“The pills is right there in the cupboard Ain’t It. Use ‘em on me if need be. Actually, you got the better medicine anyhow. Just shoot me with the shotgun shell, I mean show me, jeez. It always works right? Don’t I always snap outta whatever funk I’m in when ya show me our friendship shell?”
I could argue the strategy but what would it matter? It all came down to doing the right thing or not.
“Alright brother, we’ll deal. Now what? It’s near lunch time already and I’m as hungry as a taped wormed dog.”
Clay leaned and raised his right butt cheek in the chair.
“Yah, me too, I ain’t even gots a fart I’m so empty. Hey dude, I know. The first Pow-Wow of the season starts today, yah, Friday of Memorial Day weekend. The first vendor to set up outside the circle is the Indian Taco stand. What ya say?”
“I’m in. Been forever since I had me a greasy ole frybread taco. Let’s dress and go.”
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