I've decided to start publishing bits from my novel in here. I did this once before, way back in November--but that was before I had any friends. I really would like your feedback on this thing--its my attempt at a Alice in Wonderland/quantum physics/nonsense book. I don't even know if it's something I can publish.
When Lee Driston Awoke on the 22nd of July
By Michael S. Walker
Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.
William Shakespeare
When Lee Dritson awoke on the 22nd of July, he should have been astounded at the first sight that met his watery, unstable eyes. On his walnut desk, his computer monitor (which he was certain he had turned off the night before after doing his usual three hours of writing) was alive with a virtual face: the gaunt visage of a man with glaring red eyes.
That is one scary looking face, he thought as he stared at the monitor. Only Lee wasnt scared, or astounded, or even mystified. He just lay there in his bed, waiting for new developments. He was certain they were coming.
Well, the face on the computer monitor said in a high girlish voice. It is about time you woke up.
What time is it? Lee asked. He didnt glance at the alarm clock on the dresser next to his bed.
Time-you-woke-up, the man in the monitor said in a slow voice, as if he were explaining quantum mechanics to an idiot child. You need to get dressed, go to the lobby. Mrs. Robinson is waiting for you.
Lee had absolutely no idea who Mrs. Robinson was. Visions of Anne Bancroft seducing Dustin Hoffman in the film The Graduate started to play in his head.
Wrong Mrs. Robinson, Man in the Monitor said.
Lee got out of bed automatically, searching for the blue jeans and t. shirt that he had thrown on the carpet of his bedroom the night before. A very small voice in the back of his mind was suggesting that he should be screaming and running out of his apartment, but it was a very very small voice indeed. So, theres a man on my computer screen. Stranger things have happened, he thought.
Yes, indeed, the man in the monitor agreed.
As Lee began to dress, he studied the face floating in the screen. That was all there was: an angular, wizened faceno neck, no shoulders. The mans hair was a tangle of sandy curls. He reminded Lee of someone he had gone to high school with Dave, umm Dave...
Please, dont compare me to that odious Dave Suanders who you went to school with, the man said. He always smelled like garlic and he was always calling you Lee Dristan, like it was so droll. Just go to the lobby, please.
As Lee finished putting on his clothes, he parted the slats of Venetian blinds to look out his bedroom window and see what kind of day it was. The sky was green. Very green. Like the color of the top of a pool table green.
Must be a tornado coming, he thought, indifferently.
Undoubtedly, the man agreed. Would you go, now?
O.K., Im going. I just need to find my keys and...
Never mind all that, the man said, rolling his red eyes. Youre probably not coming back here again, anyway.
Even that tidbit of information did not seem to faze Lee Driston.
In the hallway of Lees apartment building, there was a flyer on the floor, next to the door. This was not unusual at all. The management always had some piece of information that it wished to pass on to its many tenants: what wasnt working, where rent checks were supposed to go, where cars could and could not be parked, etc. etc.
Lee picked up the flyer. A thousand copies were strewn on the floor, one in front of each doorway. This is what it said:
Two Hoom It May Concurn:
AT Too this Aftir, the right Honorible Bede will bee resighting fragmints of chaptirs of his own histery of the quantum mekanics wars for all gentlilmen residing on thees hear premices. The rite Honorible Beed is the scribe of such mastirworks as: Abrehem LinkonWhie He Killd Are Beluved Jon Wilks Booth and How the Rushins Got to The Mune First and Whie They Blue It Up. The reeding will bee in the lobbie bie the male boxes (refreshmints too fallow.) Pleese keep xcitable childrin and wild animals away as the rite Onirbul Beede gets vary nervis at these reedings and may bolt if provoked.
Sinceerly,
The Landlord
Even though this missive was very unusual, (Lee had never seen a flyer like it before) he didnt give it any more than a cursory look. He very carefully placed it on the carpet and continued walking on down the hall. After all, Mrs. Robinson was waiting for him.
Thats right, he heard a muffled voice behind his apartment door yell. Get going.
The lobby of his apartment building seemed to be exactly the same: same gray tile and pink-striped wallpaper; same row of metal mailboxes adorning one oblong wall; same opulent Bacarat chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Yes, everything was the same except against the far wall, where a plate of glass looked out onto the outdoor swimming pool. In place of the large upholstered couch that usually ran in front of this window, there was a green lawn chair. A large black woman sat on this lawn chair placidly knitting a scarf. She was wearing a pair of navy-blue sweat pants and navy-blue socks that were pulled up over the sweat pants and beige sandals over the socks. On the top of her head, she wore a navy-blue toboggan cap. Next to her was a shopping cart filled with all sorts of knick-knacks and trash: towels, bulky plastic garbage bags, skyrockets, pinwheels, stuffed animals, glass decanters. Lee wasnt sure how she had gotten this unwieldy shopping cart through the front doors of the apartment complex or how she had managed to get it past the security guard who was on duty there twenty-four hours a day, but she had and, like everything else so far, he didnt give it a second thought.
Mrs. Robinson? he asked, tentatively.
Thas me, honey. She didnt look up from her knitting.
I was told to see you... Lee said, even more tentatively.
Speaking of seeing, Mrs. Robinson said. Ever see one of these before? From somewhere inside the sweat pants she produced a small shape and handed it to Lee. Well, have ya?
Lee glanced at the small shape in his hand. Those two words, small and shape, were the only words that described what rested in his palm. Lee couldnt tell if the small shape was rectangular or circular or elliptical or even star shaped for that matter. He couldnt tell if it was gray, green, red, black, or navy blue in color. He couldnt tell if it was animal, vegetable, or mineral. It was justa small shape.
What is it? Lee asked.
Oh, nothin much. Later on, I hears it becomes somethin, but right now, its nothin much.
Lee certainly had to agree with her.
Im gonna need that back, Mrs. Robinson said. Lee handed over the object without any extra persuading. After all, what use did he have for nothing much.
I tell ya, later on, it does become somethin, she said, winking at Lee and putting the nothing much back in her sweat pants. Well, I spose we oughta be up an a doin as my Uncle Fred used to say. She gathered up her knitting materials and stuffed them into the shopping cart. You ever meet my Uncle Fred? she asked, with a touch of eagerness in her husky voice.
I cant say that I ever did, Lee replied.
Ah, thas too bad. He was a lovely man. Jes lovely. He kept thylacines as pets. Had about a hundred or so of em in a barn behind his house. You shoulda seen em when they yawned! She shuddered and crossed herself.
Whats a thylacine? Lee said, genuinely interested.
Tasmanian tigers?
Lee looked at her blankly.
Where ya been boy, hidin under rocks or somethin?
Im beginning to think so although. . .
Well, enough of this jabberin. I spose we should take the train out.
Out? Where? Lee asked.
Well, hon...it dont really exist yet, so I cant tell you. But it will once we get there. And then, well, then well know.
But. . .how will we know weve gotten there if we dont know where were going? Lee asked.
Man, you axe way too many questions. Les jus go, O.K.? Oh, almos forgot! She turned to her shopping cart and extended her arms to grab each end of it. Then, with one swift movement, she collapsed the bulk of the shopping cart as if she were merely squeezing an accordion bellows. The shopping cart and its motley contents were telescoped downward until they occupied about as much space as a traveling alarm clock. She took the resulting package and stuffed it up under her toboggan.
Likes to keep all my belongins safe, she said. All right, les go, then.
Outside of Lees apartment complex, the sky had changed color from a pool table green to more of a dark forest green.
Usually, at this time in the morning (if it was morningLee wasnt really sure about anything anymore) cars were leaving the parking lot or people were walking toward the commuter rail station, which was about a block or so away from the building. So far, Lee hadnt seen a living soul except for Mrs. Robinson and the face in the monitorif he counted as a living soul.
Where is everybody? Lee asked as they walked south toward the train station.
Everybody who? Mrs. Robinson asked. She had a very peculiar fashion of walking, which was difficult for Lee to keep up with. She would take three slow, giant steps and then she would break into a run for ten seconds or so. Then she would take two giant steps and run again. Then she would take one giant step and run. And then, the whole process would begin again.
Mrs. Robinson, may I ask why you are walking like that? Lee fairly shouted as he struggled to match her steps. At one point, he almost collided with her large body when she abruptly stopped after a run.
Cause evlution favored bipedalism, she said, with a touch of disdain. Why do you walk that way? Lee didnt say anything elsejust tried to keep up with her as she led the way toward the station.
They had gotten fairly close to the train station (which seemed to be in the same spot as the day before) when Lee looked across the eerily empty street that ran past his apartment and spotted an animal he had never ever seen in his life. It was staring at him with curious eyes. It looked like a long large dog, tapered like a greyhound, although it certainly didnt look like any breed Lee had seen before. It had short brown fur and a large head with an elongated snout. Perhaps the most amazing thing about the animal was that it had a series of about thirteen or so brown stripes on either side of its bodylike tiger stripes.
Mrs. Robinson, what is that? he shouted to the back of the woman, who was just beginning to break into her periodic sprint. As if in answer to his voice, the animal across the road cocked its head to the left and let out a double yap like a terriers.
Huh? Mrs. Robinson turned to see where he was pointing.
Thylacine. Tasmanian tiger, she said matter-of-factly. Thank God theres only one of em. If ya get five or more together ya could be in trouble. Cmon. Ignore him. Wes almos there.
Lee gave the animal one last parting look and, as he did, the tiger opened its jaws and yawned. It was like watching a crocodile open its mouth or something--suddenly the head was just swallowed up by the maw of the tigers mouth. Now he knew why Mrs. Robinson had shuddered and crossed herself when she had talked about one hundred of them yawning at once. Even one was an impressive sight.
Would ya stop starin at that ole furball tiger and get a move on! Mrs. Robinson grabbed one of his shirtsleeves and yanked him forward.
The train station was in the same place, but that was all that could be said for it.
Lee took the train to the city everyday to work. Ordinarily, there were two sleek elevated train rails: one going east and the other going west. Lee always took the train going west into the city, where he worked everyday behind the counter in a camera shop. Today, however, there were four separate train rails for each point of the compass. Lee looked up, watching as a train pulled into one of the two stations that were built on top of each other like bunk beds. Even the train was completely different. Instead of the ultramodern monorail cars that Lee was used to seeing, the train that chugged into the station was like some ancient, elegant touring car. It even had wheels on it.
Come on then, Mrs. Robinson said. We hast to decide which way wes goin.
I thought you said wed know that when we got there? Lee said, still distracted by the distant sight of the weird train. Yet, again, he felt no astonishment. It was as if, on some instinctual level, he was accepting all of it: man in computer monitor, arcane flyer, Mrs. Robinson with her malleable shopping cart and strange objects, Tasmanian tiger, train stationall of it as if it were just the minutiae of some ordinary life.
Yes, thas it honey, Mrs. Robinson said. Jes an ordinary day. Gettin on a train an goin somewheres. Now, hurry up.
That was another thing. It seemed to Lee there had been several instances during the course of the morning when Mrs. Robinson had replied to certain things he hadnt even vocalized, as if she were. . .
Nothin unusual bout that, honey, she said. Been readin an writin thoughts since I was four.
How do you. . .write thoughts? he asked, perplexed.
It aint too easy, she said. You gotta finds ya a tabula resa for that. Course, they gettin more common all the time. Anyway, its important now that we decide on a direction. That we can determine even if we dont know where wes gonna end up. She reached into her sweat pants and pulled out a small, circular coin, which she tossed to Lee who barely caught it. You remember that nothin much from earlier? Well, its become sumpthin jes like I foretold. Its now a coin for tossin an Ill let you do the honors. I figures you can handle that at least.
Lee looked at the coin Mrs. Robinson had tossed to him-- the coin that, until recently, had just been an indeterminate shape. It was about four inches in diameter and seemed to be composed of solid gold. It was very heavy. On one side of the coin was the profile of some face that Lee didnt recognize: a bland young face with a heavy moustache.
Who. . .
John Wilkes Booth-- 18th President of the U.S.A. I swear boy, I could write some serious thoughts on that empty skull of yours. Look, its very simple. If the coin lands heads, we goes north. If it lands tails, we goes south
O.K., Lee started.
Wait a minute. I aint finished, ya know. Thats only two directions. Now, if the coin lands on its edge we go east. An an if it jes stays up in the air, then we take the train west.
Howhow could it possibly do something like that? Lee asked.
Mrs. Robinson shook her large head in amazement. Boy, you is jes plumb ignorant, thas all. You must not do a lot of coin tossing.
Well, Ive done my share, Lee replied. And Ive never ever seen a coin land on its edge or just stay up in the air.
Well, jes cause ya aint seen it, dont mean nothing. Bless me, those are two of the most probable probabilities. Coin could turn into a small rock. Coin could start ricochetin off the station walls. Coin wasnt even a coin until very recently, right?
Lee nodded. Mrs. Robinson had a point there.
Well, she said, are ya gonna toss it?
Lee tossed the heavy coin and, thankfully, it landed with a heavy thud on the tiled floor of the train station. Lee looked down at the coin. It had landed on the tails side. Lee was amazed (not amazed) to see that the tails side of the coin was stamped with this legend: Your coin has landed on the tails side. Looks like you get to go south.
Its a very helpful coin, Lee said stupidly, picking it up.
It sure is, Mrs. Robinson said. She plucked the coin out of Lees hand. Im gonna need that for later. You never know. Well, I guess we get the train goin south.
All right, Lee said.
Mrs. Robinson put the coin back into her sweat pants. Les get goin boy. Oh, and try not to take anything from the panhandlers.
(to be cont.)
When Lee Driston Awoke on the 22nd of July
By Michael S. Walker
Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.
William Shakespeare
When Lee Dritson awoke on the 22nd of July, he should have been astounded at the first sight that met his watery, unstable eyes. On his walnut desk, his computer monitor (which he was certain he had turned off the night before after doing his usual three hours of writing) was alive with a virtual face: the gaunt visage of a man with glaring red eyes.
That is one scary looking face, he thought as he stared at the monitor. Only Lee wasnt scared, or astounded, or even mystified. He just lay there in his bed, waiting for new developments. He was certain they were coming.
Well, the face on the computer monitor said in a high girlish voice. It is about time you woke up.
What time is it? Lee asked. He didnt glance at the alarm clock on the dresser next to his bed.
Time-you-woke-up, the man in the monitor said in a slow voice, as if he were explaining quantum mechanics to an idiot child. You need to get dressed, go to the lobby. Mrs. Robinson is waiting for you.
Lee had absolutely no idea who Mrs. Robinson was. Visions of Anne Bancroft seducing Dustin Hoffman in the film The Graduate started to play in his head.
Wrong Mrs. Robinson, Man in the Monitor said.
Lee got out of bed automatically, searching for the blue jeans and t. shirt that he had thrown on the carpet of his bedroom the night before. A very small voice in the back of his mind was suggesting that he should be screaming and running out of his apartment, but it was a very very small voice indeed. So, theres a man on my computer screen. Stranger things have happened, he thought.
Yes, indeed, the man in the monitor agreed.
As Lee began to dress, he studied the face floating in the screen. That was all there was: an angular, wizened faceno neck, no shoulders. The mans hair was a tangle of sandy curls. He reminded Lee of someone he had gone to high school with Dave, umm Dave...
Please, dont compare me to that odious Dave Suanders who you went to school with, the man said. He always smelled like garlic and he was always calling you Lee Dristan, like it was so droll. Just go to the lobby, please.
As Lee finished putting on his clothes, he parted the slats of Venetian blinds to look out his bedroom window and see what kind of day it was. The sky was green. Very green. Like the color of the top of a pool table green.
Must be a tornado coming, he thought, indifferently.
Undoubtedly, the man agreed. Would you go, now?
O.K., Im going. I just need to find my keys and...
Never mind all that, the man said, rolling his red eyes. Youre probably not coming back here again, anyway.
Even that tidbit of information did not seem to faze Lee Driston.
In the hallway of Lees apartment building, there was a flyer on the floor, next to the door. This was not unusual at all. The management always had some piece of information that it wished to pass on to its many tenants: what wasnt working, where rent checks were supposed to go, where cars could and could not be parked, etc. etc.
Lee picked up the flyer. A thousand copies were strewn on the floor, one in front of each doorway. This is what it said:
Two Hoom It May Concurn:
AT Too this Aftir, the right Honorible Bede will bee resighting fragmints of chaptirs of his own histery of the quantum mekanics wars for all gentlilmen residing on thees hear premices. The rite Honorible Beed is the scribe of such mastirworks as: Abrehem LinkonWhie He Killd Are Beluved Jon Wilks Booth and How the Rushins Got to The Mune First and Whie They Blue It Up. The reeding will bee in the lobbie bie the male boxes (refreshmints too fallow.) Pleese keep xcitable childrin and wild animals away as the rite Onirbul Beede gets vary nervis at these reedings and may bolt if provoked.
Sinceerly,
The Landlord
Even though this missive was very unusual, (Lee had never seen a flyer like it before) he didnt give it any more than a cursory look. He very carefully placed it on the carpet and continued walking on down the hall. After all, Mrs. Robinson was waiting for him.
Thats right, he heard a muffled voice behind his apartment door yell. Get going.
The lobby of his apartment building seemed to be exactly the same: same gray tile and pink-striped wallpaper; same row of metal mailboxes adorning one oblong wall; same opulent Bacarat chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Yes, everything was the same except against the far wall, where a plate of glass looked out onto the outdoor swimming pool. In place of the large upholstered couch that usually ran in front of this window, there was a green lawn chair. A large black woman sat on this lawn chair placidly knitting a scarf. She was wearing a pair of navy-blue sweat pants and navy-blue socks that were pulled up over the sweat pants and beige sandals over the socks. On the top of her head, she wore a navy-blue toboggan cap. Next to her was a shopping cart filled with all sorts of knick-knacks and trash: towels, bulky plastic garbage bags, skyrockets, pinwheels, stuffed animals, glass decanters. Lee wasnt sure how she had gotten this unwieldy shopping cart through the front doors of the apartment complex or how she had managed to get it past the security guard who was on duty there twenty-four hours a day, but she had and, like everything else so far, he didnt give it a second thought.
Mrs. Robinson? he asked, tentatively.
Thas me, honey. She didnt look up from her knitting.
I was told to see you... Lee said, even more tentatively.
Speaking of seeing, Mrs. Robinson said. Ever see one of these before? From somewhere inside the sweat pants she produced a small shape and handed it to Lee. Well, have ya?
Lee glanced at the small shape in his hand. Those two words, small and shape, were the only words that described what rested in his palm. Lee couldnt tell if the small shape was rectangular or circular or elliptical or even star shaped for that matter. He couldnt tell if it was gray, green, red, black, or navy blue in color. He couldnt tell if it was animal, vegetable, or mineral. It was justa small shape.
What is it? Lee asked.
Oh, nothin much. Later on, I hears it becomes somethin, but right now, its nothin much.
Lee certainly had to agree with her.
Im gonna need that back, Mrs. Robinson said. Lee handed over the object without any extra persuading. After all, what use did he have for nothing much.
I tell ya, later on, it does become somethin, she said, winking at Lee and putting the nothing much back in her sweat pants. Well, I spose we oughta be up an a doin as my Uncle Fred used to say. She gathered up her knitting materials and stuffed them into the shopping cart. You ever meet my Uncle Fred? she asked, with a touch of eagerness in her husky voice.
I cant say that I ever did, Lee replied.
Ah, thas too bad. He was a lovely man. Jes lovely. He kept thylacines as pets. Had about a hundred or so of em in a barn behind his house. You shoulda seen em when they yawned! She shuddered and crossed herself.
Whats a thylacine? Lee said, genuinely interested.
Tasmanian tigers?
Lee looked at her blankly.
Where ya been boy, hidin under rocks or somethin?
Im beginning to think so although. . .
Well, enough of this jabberin. I spose we should take the train out.
Out? Where? Lee asked.
Well, hon...it dont really exist yet, so I cant tell you. But it will once we get there. And then, well, then well know.
But. . .how will we know weve gotten there if we dont know where were going? Lee asked.
Man, you axe way too many questions. Les jus go, O.K.? Oh, almos forgot! She turned to her shopping cart and extended her arms to grab each end of it. Then, with one swift movement, she collapsed the bulk of the shopping cart as if she were merely squeezing an accordion bellows. The shopping cart and its motley contents were telescoped downward until they occupied about as much space as a traveling alarm clock. She took the resulting package and stuffed it up under her toboggan.
Likes to keep all my belongins safe, she said. All right, les go, then.
Outside of Lees apartment complex, the sky had changed color from a pool table green to more of a dark forest green.
Usually, at this time in the morning (if it was morningLee wasnt really sure about anything anymore) cars were leaving the parking lot or people were walking toward the commuter rail station, which was about a block or so away from the building. So far, Lee hadnt seen a living soul except for Mrs. Robinson and the face in the monitorif he counted as a living soul.
Where is everybody? Lee asked as they walked south toward the train station.
Everybody who? Mrs. Robinson asked. She had a very peculiar fashion of walking, which was difficult for Lee to keep up with. She would take three slow, giant steps and then she would break into a run for ten seconds or so. Then she would take two giant steps and run again. Then she would take one giant step and run. And then, the whole process would begin again.
Mrs. Robinson, may I ask why you are walking like that? Lee fairly shouted as he struggled to match her steps. At one point, he almost collided with her large body when she abruptly stopped after a run.
Cause evlution favored bipedalism, she said, with a touch of disdain. Why do you walk that way? Lee didnt say anything elsejust tried to keep up with her as she led the way toward the station.
They had gotten fairly close to the train station (which seemed to be in the same spot as the day before) when Lee looked across the eerily empty street that ran past his apartment and spotted an animal he had never ever seen in his life. It was staring at him with curious eyes. It looked like a long large dog, tapered like a greyhound, although it certainly didnt look like any breed Lee had seen before. It had short brown fur and a large head with an elongated snout. Perhaps the most amazing thing about the animal was that it had a series of about thirteen or so brown stripes on either side of its bodylike tiger stripes.
Mrs. Robinson, what is that? he shouted to the back of the woman, who was just beginning to break into her periodic sprint. As if in answer to his voice, the animal across the road cocked its head to the left and let out a double yap like a terriers.
Huh? Mrs. Robinson turned to see where he was pointing.
Thylacine. Tasmanian tiger, she said matter-of-factly. Thank God theres only one of em. If ya get five or more together ya could be in trouble. Cmon. Ignore him. Wes almos there.
Lee gave the animal one last parting look and, as he did, the tiger opened its jaws and yawned. It was like watching a crocodile open its mouth or something--suddenly the head was just swallowed up by the maw of the tigers mouth. Now he knew why Mrs. Robinson had shuddered and crossed herself when she had talked about one hundred of them yawning at once. Even one was an impressive sight.
Would ya stop starin at that ole furball tiger and get a move on! Mrs. Robinson grabbed one of his shirtsleeves and yanked him forward.
The train station was in the same place, but that was all that could be said for it.
Lee took the train to the city everyday to work. Ordinarily, there were two sleek elevated train rails: one going east and the other going west. Lee always took the train going west into the city, where he worked everyday behind the counter in a camera shop. Today, however, there were four separate train rails for each point of the compass. Lee looked up, watching as a train pulled into one of the two stations that were built on top of each other like bunk beds. Even the train was completely different. Instead of the ultramodern monorail cars that Lee was used to seeing, the train that chugged into the station was like some ancient, elegant touring car. It even had wheels on it.
Come on then, Mrs. Robinson said. We hast to decide which way wes goin.
I thought you said wed know that when we got there? Lee said, still distracted by the distant sight of the weird train. Yet, again, he felt no astonishment. It was as if, on some instinctual level, he was accepting all of it: man in computer monitor, arcane flyer, Mrs. Robinson with her malleable shopping cart and strange objects, Tasmanian tiger, train stationall of it as if it were just the minutiae of some ordinary life.
Yes, thas it honey, Mrs. Robinson said. Jes an ordinary day. Gettin on a train an goin somewheres. Now, hurry up.
That was another thing. It seemed to Lee there had been several instances during the course of the morning when Mrs. Robinson had replied to certain things he hadnt even vocalized, as if she were. . .
Nothin unusual bout that, honey, she said. Been readin an writin thoughts since I was four.
How do you. . .write thoughts? he asked, perplexed.
It aint too easy, she said. You gotta finds ya a tabula resa for that. Course, they gettin more common all the time. Anyway, its important now that we decide on a direction. That we can determine even if we dont know where wes gonna end up. She reached into her sweat pants and pulled out a small, circular coin, which she tossed to Lee who barely caught it. You remember that nothin much from earlier? Well, its become sumpthin jes like I foretold. Its now a coin for tossin an Ill let you do the honors. I figures you can handle that at least.
Lee looked at the coin Mrs. Robinson had tossed to him-- the coin that, until recently, had just been an indeterminate shape. It was about four inches in diameter and seemed to be composed of solid gold. It was very heavy. On one side of the coin was the profile of some face that Lee didnt recognize: a bland young face with a heavy moustache.
Who. . .
John Wilkes Booth-- 18th President of the U.S.A. I swear boy, I could write some serious thoughts on that empty skull of yours. Look, its very simple. If the coin lands heads, we goes north. If it lands tails, we goes south
O.K., Lee started.
Wait a minute. I aint finished, ya know. Thats only two directions. Now, if the coin lands on its edge we go east. An an if it jes stays up in the air, then we take the train west.
Howhow could it possibly do something like that? Lee asked.
Mrs. Robinson shook her large head in amazement. Boy, you is jes plumb ignorant, thas all. You must not do a lot of coin tossing.
Well, Ive done my share, Lee replied. And Ive never ever seen a coin land on its edge or just stay up in the air.
Well, jes cause ya aint seen it, dont mean nothing. Bless me, those are two of the most probable probabilities. Coin could turn into a small rock. Coin could start ricochetin off the station walls. Coin wasnt even a coin until very recently, right?
Lee nodded. Mrs. Robinson had a point there.
Well, she said, are ya gonna toss it?
Lee tossed the heavy coin and, thankfully, it landed with a heavy thud on the tiled floor of the train station. Lee looked down at the coin. It had landed on the tails side. Lee was amazed (not amazed) to see that the tails side of the coin was stamped with this legend: Your coin has landed on the tails side. Looks like you get to go south.
Its a very helpful coin, Lee said stupidly, picking it up.
It sure is, Mrs. Robinson said. She plucked the coin out of Lees hand. Im gonna need that for later. You never know. Well, I guess we get the train goin south.
All right, Lee said.
Mrs. Robinson put the coin back into her sweat pants. Les get goin boy. Oh, and try not to take anything from the panhandlers.
(to be cont.)
VIEW 25 of 31 COMMENTS
celainen:
yes, i wrote it yesterday. it is still raining today. so good when the earth and the soul correspond. i'm glad you like it. it's actually quite meaningful to me.
laruby1565:
Hey,post the rest-this is GREAT! 