Still gloating in perceived victory from a debate
with Sheriff, suspense slapped its hand over my mouth. Breathless, I waiting to
see which spirit might emerge wearing Clay’s face.
The fire crackled with applause for a symphony of
insects whose tempo increases while daylight drifted away. Clay didn’t blink.
Taking a gulp of air, I coughed my bud into fully
phasing. His eyes, warming and moistening, looked to me and the act jostled a
smile loose.
“What were you saying, Ain’t It? I blanked out for a
bit.” Clay stood and stretched. “Aw shoots, who was it this time Migizi?”
Smugness tapped me on the shoulder as I remembered
my rant and pride egged me on. I sat down and took a drink of warm pop so it
wouldn’t be so obvious then answered.
“It was Sheriff, brother. I got into it with him
when he took a nasty tone with me. But, I think he was okay at the end. And
thus far pal, I have little in my notes for your eulogy. I find no helpfulness
in what these spirit citizens of yours have shared. I regret going along with
your plan.”
Wrinkles on Clay’s forehead huddled for discussion
over my statement.
“So you wish I was back on that dope hunh, Migizi,
to duck tape the mouths of the personuva-guns lippin’ off at ya. They’ll still
be here in my gourd for me to negotiate with but at least you’ll be free of
them.”
“Clay, that isn’t it. I just don’t see how it’s
accomplishing what you wanted. They
seem more deceptive and vague than anything. I simply prefer good ole Clay stay
around and chat, bullshit and the like, talk about the highlights of your
life.”
Big bullfrogs got into a bellowing contest by the
water. Clay got up and brought the lanterns by us. They’d need lighting soon.
It was a bit warm to be in a small tent so I hoped to stay up late conversing
with Clay. I wanted to make up lost time. My buddy resurrected the fire from a
coal the size of a dime and sat down.
“Ain’t It, it doesn’t matter. I ditched the drug so
whatever happens, well, it happens. Let’s try to do what you said as long as we
can before another hijacking happens. Ask me somethun to get me started.”
I swapped empty bottle with full, poked the fire for
good measure, and went for it. I asked for an answer to a long held mystery for
me, the history and story behind His Favorite Gal. Through the years, Clay and
Gal refused answering and took pleasure in annoying me with the secret. This
was the perfect time at last. I already had one victory and another would be
great before bed.
“Take
heed…” said a voice in my head, conscience I presumed. I didn’t
listen.
“Come on brother, share the story of Gal’s name and tell
about why you are still together,” I urged.
Copyright ©
2015 Migizi M. New Song. All Rights Reserved.
No comments:
Post a Comment