God Laughs At Plans

“Follow? Just try to keep up Ain’t It,” said Clay laughing so hard he started wheezing.

 

His Special Gal took a drink of coffee then gave approval by slapping her hand on the table so hard it made dishes rattle.

“Dam straight on that one Wheel Boy, yah Ain’t It, your brother here spoke it true for sure.”

Clay looked at his companion with a knowing smile and added, “You haven’t called me that since like Juvember. Megwetch honey, thanks babe.”

The couple made up interesting words and concepts I found humorous and clever. Wheel Boy is what she called my friend soon after they met at a bar. Clay told the story best so I asked him to recite it. I thought it might make the pudding of his mind set up while the pill took hold.

“Common then Clay, tell me again about snaggin’ each other at the bar after Pow Wow so many empty bottles ago.”

Standing, His Favorite Gal winked at me as she took the coffee pan to the maker for refilling. She knew it was going to be a long and good sit-down-catch-up session. A cockroach appeared from nowhere special and climbed aboard a remaining third of a wafer on the saucer. Nobody cared.

“Yah alright then,” says Clay as he looks around to either side of me. “Hey man, where’s the rest of the fish jerky? Good stuff.”

I pointed at the bag sitting beside him on the floor where he put it but was too dazed to remember. He pulled some out and went at it.

Biting a chunk off, he started talking. I never got why he did, talking with food in his mouth, and it annoyed the hell outta me. Probably why he did it.

“Yah, so I bought her a drink and rubbed her shoulder while whispering a poem in her ear. Don’t ask I won’t tell.”

I always asked what the poem said and neither of them ever obliged.

“Anyways, she asks my name, I tell her, and she said that if I took her home she would put this ole lump of Clay on a wheel and give me a wild ride. Yah, put both her hands on me and mold me in love.”

His Favorite Gal returned from the sink and added, “And spun your ass right off I did.”

“Did for sure,” said Clay.

“And I never said that last thing. Just wishful thinkin’ on your part,” said Gal.

I smiled at their banter and watched the roach nibble some cookie. Clay got the look in his eye. It always meant the same thing, I was Clay’s suspect.

“What ya up to Ain’t It? What ya plannin’?” Clay asked.

“Listen brother, I’m concerned for you, worried even, and I gave that up a long time. Now I’m off that wagon and anxious about your future, our future man. I figured if you could remember something good it would make your mind more stable.”

His Favorite Gal brought fresh brew, filled cups, and sat the pan down. The roach moved slightly and went back to eating. Gal stood behind Clay, put her hands on his shoulders, and waited for me to say more. When I didn’t, she did.

“Migizi, tell him the plan but remember, God finds man’s plans entertaining. Wheel Boy, he’s got a good one. He’s being modest and holdin’ out is all.”