Chapter Seventeen

When Louis, with the one arm, made it back to my front door that evening, he found Bob sitting in an almost comatose state on the stoop. He was staring past Louis, into the parking lot, stroking Oprah in a rhythmic , mechanical motion. Louis stood still, looming above Bob, waiting for any sign of recognition. Bob's t-shirt was soaked in dog urine from his chest down into his pants. Oprah's head was wet from Bob slobber, and the moisture was constantly being pushed down his neck onto his back by Bob's monstrously large hand. Louis gave it a good five minutes before opening his mouth.

" Bob?" Louis said sweetly. "Bob, you might want to put the dog down on the ground from time to time....just a thought."

I awoke with Lisa next to me. I remembered something. I remembered I smoke, and boy was I ready for a cigarette. Slipping out from under the sheets I scoured the room for a pack. I traipsed down the hall into the kitchen and began pulling out drawers. There were ashtrays and matches but no butts. I lifted magazines and pillows, I got on all fours and looked under the couch. Another thing I need to remember is to start locking my door, especially if I'm going to run around in the nude.

Everybody I know and a few I didn't recognize came marching through the door.

"Hi Marty!"

"Oh, Marty."

"Got any chicken Dad?"

"Ha ha, Mahtee!"

They filed past me like I was taking tickets at the megaplex and filled up all my chairs and empty space on the floor. Lisa walked, naked, into the hallway and ran back into the bedroom with a screech.

"What did you want to see us about?" queried Russell.

"I see you haven't changed." said Cynthia.

Before Cynthia spoke I didn't know who she was. This was my ex-wife who worked at the Louisville Slugger plant in New Albany, Indiana. She was kinda gorgeous. I guessed that the pretty blonde with the expensive business suit and tasteful jewelry was Candace, the radio personality from Chicago. Dave Price, the weatherman followed her very closely, he had made a new friend. Carol and Dr. Granger had come together, looking very sheepish. Russell and my son Louis were together, carrying mitts and covered in sweat.

Bob dropped Oprah to the floor and his feet were running before they touched ground. He scampered under the coffee table and cowered, his slobber soaked head shaking.

I ducked into the hall closet and emerged wearing my winter coat. When I stuck my hands into the pockets I found a pack of Marlboro menthols and a gold lighter with the inscription, "Marty, Love you Always, Elizabeth" etched on the side. Elizabeth? I made for the kitchen and lit up. Using my short term memory, I pulled open the drawer with the ashtray, and pulled in out. When I turned around there was Dr. Granger.

"Marty, I wanted to let you know that Carol and I are seeing each other. While you were in the coma she came to see you almost every day, and we kinda became, well, familiar." his laugh sounded uncharacteristically nervous. "You know Marty, she's a wonderful lady, very pretty, charming, sweet, and most importantly...she's white." I coughed like I'd swallowed a moth.

"Excuse me?" I hacked

"You know, she's a perfect fit for me, she's just...right!" he said with a question mark on his brow.

I swear that I heard him say that she was "white." I wondered if I had been a racist before the injury and it was sneaking it's way back into my psyche.

"Can I get you a coke?" I said

"Now I can see how this might make you uncomfortable, but you must understand that it all happened so innocently." he was pleading now. "I mean you had a major hunk of fried poultry in your head, we thought you were going to be a vegetable for the rest of your life." that made me feel better in a horrible kind of way. "She needed assurance and comforting, and in a funny way, well so did I." I took a long hard drag. "Plus, she's a white woman, and you knows how we like the white womens." He laughed madly.

I gagged and smoke came out my nose and through the top of my bandage.

"I knew you'd understand!" He slapped me on the back and left the room. I was trying to make my chest stop hurting.

After a few minutes I had composed myself I walked back into the living room. The entire collection of friends and wives stopped their internal conversations and turned their attention towards me. Lisa, Candace, Carol, and Cynthia were all sitting together on the couch. Dave was on his knees behind the divan, his head very close to Candace's. I studied the menagerie and looked each person in the eye for a short period. I cleared my throat.

"Who here knows who George Rogers Clark is?" I asked

Intermission

Chapter Sixteen

Lisa reminded me of someone and I'm not sure who. It could be an actress or an ex wife. She was stunning. We spent the next hour talking about our lives, at least what I could remember of mine and what she was willing to tell me about hers. She has a sweet lilting pattern of speech that calms the anxiety I seem to carry with me, and a pair of bright green eyes that will occasionally flash when they catch a runaway ray of light. After we had shared everything we were going to for this day, she stood up an began inspecting my home. She rifled through my CD collection and pulled out an album. "Who are the Flaming Lips?" she asked with her head cocked sideways.

"Probably the best band that ever walked the earth." I said earnestly

"Is this a glam band?" She opened the jewel case and fired up the stereo.

"Not exactly...Try cut 6." I instructed. I wanted her to hear the song "buggin"

The stereo clicked and the music poured out. "All those bugs, buzzin around your head." Lisa looked amazed and confused but began swaying to the lyrics. The "lips" take some getting used to but she was making a valiant effort.

"Is this about insects?" she spoke loudly to be heard over the music.

"They fly through the air, as you comb your hair, and the summer time will make you itch those, mosquito bites." Sang lead singer Wayne Coyne

She pulled the chord on the drapes and the light became dim. Her blue jeans slid down her legs showing her red, thong underwear. I was very worried about what I was going to do about this. I couldn't possibly look sexy with a 2 foot high bandage on my head and a Fender Stratocaster t-shirt, ripped at the neck so I could slide it over my massive wound covering. She danced across the room, coming dangerously close to the cocktail table at times. She stared into my eyes as she began to raise her black, mock turtleneck up towards her head. The sleeves were tangled on her long arms at the elbow. As she wrestled with it, her entire face became covered and she waltzed about the room trying to fight it off. She was wearing nothing underneath and created a conflicting image of sexy versus comical. As the shirt became even more tangled she was finding it difficult to breathe and began hopping and pulling and, I guess, dancing.

"...And they bite, yes they bite, but you can't see them there.." The music played.

I rose to see if I could be some help, but she was flailing and spinning, her bosoms bouncing wildly. It was like trying to stop a runaway merry-go-round, I didn't know exactly where to grab.

Just then there was a knock at the door and without hesitation the knob turned and light filled the room.

"Can I pway wif Opaaa now? Bob yelled to be heard above the music.

Lisa planted her heel into a fresh gift of puppy poop and her feet slipped out from under her. She landed hard on her behind on the coffee table and recoiled head first on to the floor. As she struggled to get to her knees her butt cheeks rose to visibility, separated by a line of red cloth. It looked like a divided moon rising over the coffee table's horizon.

"Hi Lisa." spoke Bob knowingly, he never forgot a buddox. "Can I pway wif Opaa now?"

I grabbed Oprah and handed him to Bob. The puppy gave me a "What did I do exactly to deserve this?" look with his big brown eyes that kept constant contact with mine as Bob carried him out the door. Bob was cackling and a stroking and smiling as they left together. Oraph's ears were pinned back as far as he could make them go.

I pulled the tangled blouse from Lisa's head and we slowly stood together. She took my hand and we walked towards the bedroom. She pushed open the door and I turned my eyes away from her face, I couldn't remember if I had made the bed, or removed the plate of chicken bones from the night stand. I didn't want to make a bad first impression.

The door to the bedroom opened fully and I was overwhelmed by the number of animals strewn across my bed. Birds were perched on the headboard. Cats were sleeping on my pillows. Dogs were licking their fur, and other things. Fish were swimming in the air towards the bathroom. I remembered the summer I spent on my Uncle's sheep farm. Actually all the sheep in the room served as a perfect reminder. Paul McCartney walked into the room and began herding the animals away. I guess he really did die in a car crash back in the 70's.

"You two need some time alone." He started pushing the sheep from behind with his hands. He was much cuter than the guy pretending to be Paul McCartney is now. He sang. "With a love like that, you know you should be glad." Not as good as the Flaming Lips, but the sentiment was there.

"Lisa." I said. "There is something I need to tell you."

"Later." she spoke.

Chapter Fifteen

"Can I keep the dog?" Bob said it with clarity and most importantly only once. I can only surmise that he expected the answer to be no and that allowed him to suddenly join the world of the normal, if there is such a thing, long enough to attain the appearance of normality for the time it took to speak the words.

Russell, Louis, and Louis all made eye contact with me, pleading for a right answer to come from my direction. I pleaded right back. There was a period of silence that was awkward in nature. Someone in the group needed to know that I was surrounded by the dead pet society. How could I be expected to formulate a rational response while every dead anole chameleon I ever owned was crawling up my legs? How could I possibly explain to the innocent Bob that I was in the need of a large bottle of liquor? Could Bob ever take care of a puppy? A tennis shoe would die if it were Bob's responsibility. I said the only thing that would diffuse the situation. The only thing that I could possibly say. 'Bob, what do you say I keep the puppy, and you can come play with it whenever you want to?"

"Hoowayy!" Bob cried, his speech impediment came back without suffering any mal-effects. "I can pway wif the puppy! Hoowayy!" his face went blank. "Wha is hid name, Marty? Wha is hid name?"

"I have no idea." I scratched my bandage and looked at all the other pets in the room.

"You've named your pets alphabetically in the past Dad." said Louis my son. "Your last dog was named Mabel."

"Mabel?" As the named left my mouth, a large black Labrador retriever bounded into the room and sat, wagging her tail at my feet. "Well, that leaves us with O, doesn't it." I tried to say calmly.

"How about Oprah?" added the Louis with one arm.

"The dog is a MALE!" Russell resonated.

"And?" replied Louis

"The dog is not a female!" Russell said.

"So?" Louis replied with a blank stare.

Louis my son laughed.

"Opaaaa!" Bob repeated with glee. "Opaaa!"

"Oprah it is then," I found the name somehow endearing. There was nothing about the dog that would make the name offensive to anyone. Had I named Mabel after a black, female, talk show host, there may have been some racial and feminist problems, but seeing as how the puppy was a tri-colored mongrel then the name would work perfectly. "Come here Oprah." I said, kneeling and holding my hands open. Oprah broke free of Russell and came leaping and hopping into my arms. He licked my face and barked as I stroked his head. All of my other dogs surrounded us and sat, jealously waiting for their turns. The cats all disappeared, the rodents scurried off to safety, and the reptiles continued doing what they were doing.

"I love you Marty." Said Doug the mynah bird. "

"Let's get together tonight, all of us, I have something we need to discuss." I told the group.

"You throwing us out Dad?" Louis said with a grin.

"Of course I am, but I especially need to talk to you later, Louis. Now,everybody get out of here, I need some time alone right now." I held the door open and the gang marched out single file. Louis patted me on the back, and then the puppy with his one existent hand.

About one minute after I closed the door and I heard Russell's SUV start up and drive away, I heard Bob howl. "I saw yoo buddox!"

"Lisa?" I asked myself. I opened the door to find her walking towards me. As she neared I realized that up to this point I have never seen her when I was standing on my feet. My head began to tilt back as she approached. She was about the length of my hand taller than me. She stooped down to give me a kiss. I could tell she had been in this position before.

"Marty, is there anyway to get Bob to stop saying that?" she spoke with consternation. "It's pissing me off."

"There's only one way to make him forget, and you don't wanna do it." I answered using a serious tone. "He just stopped talking about how cold the Doctor's forceps felt on his forehead the day he was born."

Chapter Fourteen

When I woke the next morning I could hear the sounds of men, rustling in the front room. I heard Bob whispering at the top of his lungs.

"Shud Up..you goind to wake up Mahtee, you goind to wake up Mahtee, Mahtees goind to wake up, you go-eeng to wake up Mahtee!" He was afraid the noise would wake me up.

Nancy was lying on the bed, at my knees, with her stubby little tail facing me. I reached down and stroked her back and gathered her fur between my fingers. The little stub wiggled back and forth, an automatic response from a lazy cocker spaniel, it didn't require her to be awake. I wrestled myself around so I could press her face next to mine. She opened her big, cow like eyes, and raised her head slightly off the mattress. There was a stain, a slobber pool, on top of the covers, under her chin. Damn that Louis! I worried all night about Dr. Granger and my ex-wife. Dog slobber.

The night had been fitful. It started with a dream that my father was pushing me into the mill that Louis used to work at. The sign at the front door said "No day(s) since the last accident!" The machinery inside was still and my dad guided me to a giant red button just beyond the factory entry. The button had the word START written in big black letters on its face. My dad pointed at it and said. "It's your turn to make things happen, son" His mouth shut with the sound of a door slam, and he was gone.

I was wearing a yellow hard hat on the top of my large bandages. My bib overalls hung down to the tops of my steel toed boots. The movement and noise of the machinery started up slowly like a merry go round in hell and feathers began drifting down from the ceiling. I was standing beneath the giant washing machines and they were rocking and humming. Something like warm rain sprayed on my hands, it was hot fat from the cast iron bellies spewing down all around me. The droplets began to hurt like bee stings and I tried to run but my feet were slipping out from under me. I saw the giant box on springs and I made my way beneath it. Now the feathers that were falling had turned into dangerous vipers, and I climbed to the top of the box and fell inside. As soon as I landed in the bottom, the box began to shake wildly and I was thrown from side to side and upside down. It was about this time that I realized that I was completely nude. You gotta love the crap that happens in a dream. There was one last shudder and I flew upward and then down flat on my back. Heads began popping into the open space above me, staring down at my naked body. There was my Mom and Dad, Louis my son, and Louis my friend. There were lots of women that I didn't recognize. Then there was John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe, Jim Morrison with Mother Theresa, Adolph Hitler and Dottie Condra. Dottie was a girl in my high school who was very large and very mean. She would be a perfect date for Hitler. There was a Marching band. There was Jesus, with the halo and everything. Thank God I woke up.

I rose from my bed silently, leaving Nancy, squeezing her eyelids tightly. The busy buzzing in the front room ceased as soon as I walked in. It looked like a wax museum of my mutant friends. On the couch was my pal Louis sitting with my son. My son Louis was holding Louis' detached , plastic, tattooed arm in his hands and they both had the startled, guilty look of a couple disturbed during sex. Louis looked like he was partially melted with an empty sleeve hanging from his side. Russell was on the floor with a mongrel puppy in his lap and Bob, his legs oddly disjointed at the knees was leaning down to the dog's face and trying his best to pat it on the head. The puppy's head was bouncing up and down like a fisherman's bobber with a crappie on the hook. Russell was looking at me with his red, surprised stare. Bob was the last to notice I had come into the room and his big head swayed and snapped in my direction. "Mahtee! Russell has a puppy!" His giant teeth parted his thick lips.

"What's with the dog Russell?" I was worried that Nancy might not react well to another canine in her territory.

"It's for you Marty." Russell said with pride. " I figured you would need the company."

"Why would I need more company Russell, Nancy.." Russell interrupted.

"Marty, it's nobody's fault...It couldn't be helped." There was a bit of a cry in his voice. I looked back toward the bedroom door. Nancy had risen and was peering around the corner with a combination of fear and distrustful look on her muzzle. "I can't bring Nancy back to life, all I can offer is this little guy." He stroked the puppy's head.

"Nancy's dead?" I said with disbelief.

"She broke her neck in the accident Marty, she died pretty quick." Louis spoke as he recovered his arm from my son.

"I buried her down by the golf course Dad, she's right next to Gidrey's creek." Louis had a long face and I wondered if that's what I looked like when I was sad.

Nancy walked deliberately towards the pup, her back end pushing the bedroom door even wider. My confusion became panic and wonder as the collie I had as a child followed her into the room. As a matter of fact, every dog I have ever owned came in tow. Familiar cats crawled out from behind the couch and kitchen cabinets. Hamsters and mice scurried across the rug. Five turtles inched their way into the menagerie. My pet mynah Bird from when I was 10 years old landed on the coffee table. What was happening didn't really become clear until the fish came. Hundreds of fish, goldfish, tropical, and salt water varieties were floating in through the air, brushing my head and fingers. The room was filled with every dead pet I'd ever owned.
Every one. Including Nancy.

"You goin to keep him Mahtee, you goin to keep him?" Bob asked with the most worried face one could ever imagine.

"I'm not sure there's going to be enough room." I said to a confused audience.

Christ on the cross...on a chicken bone

Chapter Thirteen

It was time to take stock. I was standing in the bathroom staring in the mirror at what looked like a character in a science fiction movie from the 60s. Dr. Granger had been to the party and he along with two paramedics...a pair of medics, had removed my charred, head wound dressing. They wrapped my shaved and scarred skull with a fresh bandage and then put a plastic, helmut-like affair on top of that. Then they covered the helmut with gauze and wrapped that in another bandage. I was maybe a foot taller than I was before. My eyes were blackened from the broken nose I received in the car accident. The left side of my face was red and burned, someone at the party tried to put my head fire out with a cosmopolitan. My neck was scratched from Nancy's paws.

Louis appeared behind me in the mirror. "If you're not careful, your modeling career is going to be in serious shit." he spoke

"Louis, do you have time to answer some questions for me?" I walked out of the bathroom expecting him to follow me. He did not.

"Shoot." said Louis followed by the sound of a race horse urinating.

I paused and swallowed. I didn't feel like this was the best way to have a serious man to man chat, that may alter the course of my existence. Oh well. "I need to know who those people were."

"What people?" Apparently Louis had not noticed the 50 some faces in my apartment.

"I dunno, uh, let's see, oh yea like the young man that called me DAD!" I barked

"That's your son Marty." Louis punctuated the comment with a fart.

"Oh really? Well thank you Dr. Phil, I'm glad we could have this talk." I laid back down on my bed but there was so much crap on my head between me and the pillow that my chin stuck to my chest.

Louis came bouncing out of the bathroom, zipping his fly with one hand."We've had this same talk about 40 times now Marty, I thinking of writing a song and recording it for you."

What's his name?" I said bluntly

Louis looked at me blankly. I swear I heard a click every time he blinked his eyes. There was a long silence, lots of staring, and many clicks. Finally his mouth opened. "Louis. Your son's name is LOOO--USSS. You named him after me. Asshole."

"Who is his Mother?" I squeezed my eyelids shut

"Her name is Carol, she was the woman who kissed you, the short petite brunette." His lips were straight, like he was angry. "She visited you several times while you were in the coma. "She has been very concerned about your well-being."

"Are we married?" I wasn't ready for a yes answer.

"You are divorced and she married a guy that works at the drug store." He began picking his nose.

"Raymond?" I asked

Louis yanked his finger out of his nose in surprise and whipped his gaze at me. "How did you know that?"

"Lucky guess, I remember maybe 6 people...Tops, and he's one of em." I looked at his index finger and he startedly switched his attention to what was on it. He wiped it on my bandage.

"Yea, well, they got divorced last year and she is living in Phillips Ridge, with Louis." He grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the bed. "You lived with a woman named Candace, very pretty, very smart, she left you and is now a radio personality in Chicago making 7 figures." he sounded like he was reading from a book. "You married another woman named Cynthia, she was a party animal, and a daredevil. You divorced her when you caught her with another man. Also Raymond."

"Geez, what is this thing with Raymond anyway?" I asked.

"Dunno, but I can kill him if you want, it's been a standing offer for several years." Louis is a loyal friend, maybe I will have him kill Raymond for me. "Cynthia moved to New Albany, Indiana and works at the Louisville Slugger plant."

"I love those bats, I used to have one when I was a kid." I said

"Your Mom was at the party, Bob was pushing her wheelchair around all evening, whether she wanted him to or not." he smirked. "I believe she said something about the bat, she told us about your entire life, in real time."

"Oh god!" I put my hands on my bandage.

"Yesterday was the anniversary of when you stopped wetting the bed." He said very directly.

"I was going to ask you if I wet the bed. Thank you." I paused thoughtfully. "Louis am I a good person, or am I a bad person?"

"Marty, you are my best friend and you have been since 3rd grade. If you are a bad person, then I must be one too." His eyes looked a little moist at this point. "I think you are a fantastic man, you are my hero and every time you nearly die it sucks the life out of me my friend. If there is anything bad about you its the fact that you have more accidents than the normal human. You have been in 5 serious car accidents, you were struck by lightening at the age of 18. You fell out of a 7 story window when you were 25 and landed on an awning that broke your fall, and your elbows." He held up his one elbow to make his point and I looked at mine. "You survived a plane crash in which 10 people were killed when you were 29, you broke most of your toes."

I wiggled my tootsies, they seemed fine. "Wow, that's a bunch!"

"Just gettin started Marty, just gettin started." his face changed demeanor. "Lisa called, she wanted to know how you were, I told her you were on fire, she stopped me and said "No, I mean emotionally." she's very funny Marty." he paused. "You do remember Lisa don't you?"

"Yes, I remember." I curtly replied. I noticed a stain on the bed. "what's this?"

"While you were passed out, Dr. Granger and Carol were in here making out on the bed. I think they had sex." Louis started to touch the spot and then pulled his hand away.

"Is there any chicken left?" I asked

Illustration by my favorite artist