Chapter Fifty Four

Oprah the dog sat on the porch looking out towards the parking lot of the condominium project where Bob lives. He hadn't eaten much since the terrible accident at the Oprah Winfrey show. His eyes darted from left to right as he searched the area for any sign of me or Louis, or anyone other than Bob.

The sun glinted off the brilliant, red paint job of an SUV and it caused him to squint a little bit. Oprah stood and wagged his tail when the truck pulled into Bob's unused parking space. The shock absorbers of the heavy duty vehicle relaxed as Russell's giant frame lumbered out of the driver's side door.

"Hey little fella!" Russell bent and patted the dog on his head. It was a real good pat, and Oprah's head bobbed under the pressure. "Is you friend here?" He rang the doorbell.

You could hear the sound of Bob's shuffling feet and the crash of a lamp falling over. "Heewoooo!!!" shouted Bob.

"Bob, it's Russell." Russell knew that Bob would spend about 5 minutes pushing a step stool to the door and then another five to climb up it in order to see through the peep hole. People seldom came to Bob's house, and he rarely had the chance to use the peep hole for real. Some days he went through all the effort to look out the peep hole when no one was at the door.

After 10 minutes or so he heard Bob screech. "Russoooo!" It would take another 7 minutes to get down off of the ladder and move it so he could open the door.

Oprah actually got a furrowed brow knowing that Bob was coming. He had all the attention from Bob that he wanted for a while. He wanted a little "Oprah" time.

"Russso!" Bob repeated as he opened the door. With his thick glasses he really couldn't tell who it was by looking in the spy hole, he knew it was Russell when he heard Russell say...

"It's me...Russell!"

"Bob, get your stuff! We're taking a road trip!"

"A Woad Tip?" Bob looked confused. "Where are we doeing on vis woad tip, Russooo?"

"I'm not sure what the hell you just said Bob, but I just got a call from Marty's agent, Cy. He says that we need to get to Louisville...Pronto!"

"Woo-Wee-Bill!"

"Settle down little fella, yes, Louisville."

Bob's speech pattern shifted into high gear. Russell lifted the patch off of his empty eye socket in an attempt to understand what he was saying.

"I ssawdisshow un de TV on FOX about hossies and Turkjill Dows and dere wes dis one hoss dar wud bite de pipple and they ewectocute him....." You get the point. Russell just nodded his head and pushed Bob inside.

Russell grabbed a bag out of Bob's neatly arranged closet and threw a few clothing items inside, and then stopped at the refrigerator and filled the remaining space with packets of Sunny Delight juice drinks and straws. On his way towards the door he noticed something that amazed him. There were 30 or 40 number puzzles called Sudoku, on Bob's coffee table, completely finished. Russell had tried Sudoku, the oriental puzzle that requires you to fill out a grid of numbers in such a fashion that they don't repeat in any 9 digit sequence. Russell barely understood the concept. "Did you do these puzzles Bob?"

"Yes." Bob said very plainly.

"Really? How long did it take you to do all of these?"

"Uh...I dond know....about an hour and a hap I dess."

"You did all of these today?"

Bob held up one of the puzzles to Russell's face. "I did dis one while you wus at the freeridgadator."

Russell hiked up the waistband of his pants. He looked at the puzzle, and then he looked at Bob. He hiked up his pants again.

"WOO-WEE-BILL!!!!"

"How in the Devil's name did you do these thing?"

"WOO-WEE-BILL!!"

"This must be some kind of trick!"

"Wo-WHY-Vood!!!"

"Marty needs to know about this!"

"Marteee has a agent?"

"Cy." said Russell

"Ahhhhhh'" replied Bob

Chapter Fifty Three

Lightning flashed as we flew over the bridgeless gap. The car was frozen in midair like it was a photograph. I looked back and could still see it floating, motionless, over the blackened space.

"I don't want to ride with you anymore." I spoke with calmness and confidence.

"That's the first brave thing you've said since I met you." Ted was wearing a friendly smile.

"So, are you going to let me out?"

"No."

"Sorry."

"Marty, there are only a few things in this world that a man can do for himself. After that, he needs help. If you wanted to you could live by yourself off the fat of the land. You are capable of building your own dwelling, growing crops, domesticating and slaughtering animals, entertaining yourself, make your own clothes...... That's it, everything else is dependent upon the existence of others. People trade services and affection and relate in such a way as to fill the voids that exist as part of being alive. It's true that you can't "go it" alone in this world and expect to survive. Most humans believe that survival is the meaning of life, that continuing the species is the basis to all existence. To procreate and evolve. Some believe that it's important to leave a legacy, to advance the knowledge base, and to make the planet, the universe, a better place for all creatures. You have touched upon the belief that music and the arts is what ties the fabric of the life on earth and the connection of all thought and being."

I smiled with the affirmation of being on the right path.

"While that is all well and good, you must be brought to the awareness that this is the kind of thinking that makes you into the pathetic sap that lives for 72 years in hopeless turmoil and is destined to become a pickled corpse to be viewed, dressed in your favorite suit, lying in a shiny new, lacquered coffin from the Oklahoma casket company, Inc.. "

Ted was not good at turning a frown, upside down.

"What do think the difference is between just being alive, and really being alive? What makes one man exist, and another flourish? What has God put on this Earth, that every man has full access to, but only a handful will every discover?"

I thought of the trees and the sky, the oceans. The untold mysteries of the psyche. I pondered the gift of living on the line between life and afterlife and the questions that this aberration has left me. Ted had been sent to me in order to find a place in my mind and heart that held the answers to my dilemma.

The headlights of the car lit the facade of a hidden mansion in the woods we had been racing through. It was a picture of southern elegance, old but timeless. Columns that stood sentry on the 3 story palace were covered with Ivy and Spanish moss. The white brick had become cream colored with time. The wooden treads to the porch were worn with use, but not worn out. It all had the appearance of a home and not an institution, a warmth that beckoned you to enter.

The storm had ended and the heat of the night had changed the rain into steam. Stars flickered as the clouds in the dark sky began to break. The sound of crickets chirping and frogs barking was as loud as the thunder had been only moments earlier. A light above the porch switched on illuminating the front door. My eyes widened as the black space between the Door and the jamb expanded.

"Marty, the one element that differentiates a life lived, and a life that makes a difference is within your grasp."

Just then a figure emerged from the darkness and walked towards the car. It was a chimpanzee carrying a briefcase and talking on a cell phone.

Ted smiled from ear to ear and his eyes sparkled as he turned to me. The words welled up from the bottom of his heart, and though I could hear them forming from the depths of his frame, I had no clue as to what they might be.

He removed his hat and placed it over his heart. "An agent."

A musical interlude

Check this out, an old video of Bob Dylan's Subterranean Homesick Blues and the tv ad for the new Flaming lips album.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7049230177333347206&q=bob+dylan

http://streamos.wbr.com/wmedia/wbr/flaminglips/tvspots/flaminglips_out-monday_300.wvx

Chapter Fifty Two

Ted and I were flying through the night like a meteor, our taillights leaving a red stripe across the moonless landscape. A storm was flashing strobe lightning in the distance. My mind was racing with new memories of my life before the tornado, the pain that I learned to experience, and of Temptation. The news report had said that two people died in the shooting at the diner. I can only guess that it was Mel and Tempation that they were talking about but I didn't want to believe that such a beautiful soul could be lost before I had a chance to find out if she was the woman of my dreams. "Where are you taking me?"

"Marty, I can't believe that in all this time you haven't asked that question. You know, curiosity killed the cat is only an expression that mothers use to shut their kids up when they're irritated. Asking questions is the basis of all existence, otherwise you don't even need to be. Where do you think we would be if Shakespeare never asked "To be or not to be."? Where would we be if Edison never asked if man could simulate the Sun?"

"So where are we going?"

"I remember Columbus standing at the edge of the water wondering what was on the other side. The Wright Brothers trying to figure out why man couldn't fly. Les Paul just didn't want his guitar to be louder, he went right ahead and invented an electrified guitar. They all asked questions of their friends and scholars, they sought the truth to find a meaning in their individual quests. If you are just going to sit there and let things happen to you, then you might as well be watching TV for the rest of eternity. Fox TV."

"Do I know where we're going, is the answer inside of me?"

"There was a man who asked the question..."What if my razor had 3 blades, instead of just the two, and vibrated...would I be able to create a closer shave?" Just so you know, that is a stupid question. That's not the question that intelligent fuckers ask themselves. That is what they call a gimmick, the only goal is to make money. Not that there's anything wrong with making money, mind you. Thomas Edison and his heirs made a fortune from the lightbulb. Look at the dashboard. It's full of little tiny lightbulbs. We couldn't see to drive if it wasn't for Edison. We would have to stop for the night and watch TV in some crummy motel. "

"Could there be television if there was no lightbulb?"

"That's a stupid question Marty. Of course not, that was a joke on my part. You wouldn't have TV's, computers, radios, stereos, or the electronic pet on a keychain if it wasn't for Thomas Edison. By the way, that's another expression that's full of shit. "There are no stupid questions, just stupid people" that is not true. There is a whole buttload of stupid questions out there being asked as we speak. Stupid questions slow down the progress of mankind more than anything else. "

"I just felt like the question needed to be asked."

"What if I fell from the sky? What if the lightbulb doesn't work? What if we sail off the end of the world? What if I regretted my decisions?"

"That's kind of harsh Ted."

"What if this delicious looking Steak was filled with poison? Is it better to starve to death rather than die from what you eat?"

"That's very Zen."

"Thanks, I've been reading a book on Zen Golf."

"You golf?"

"Not well. That's one bitch of a game. How about that Tiger Woods? There is a guy that really knows how to focus and play golf. I swear if I could focus just half as much as that dude I would be on the tour."

"I can't imagine you wearing the shoes."

"Got a trunk full of them. Footjoys mostly. That's a good shoe!"

"I like them too."

"I just can't put my game together. I either hit the ball well and putt like a retard or vice versa. I can't seem to get out of the 80's. Just one putt here, just one muscle twitch there and I'm shooting in the low 70's. Did you watch the Masters this year? What a course! It is so beautiful. Bobby Jones built that after he quit playing tournaments. You know he never became a professional golfer. He beat the best players of his day, he won the Grand Slam of golf, by God he coined the phrase Grand Slam of golf, and he never made one cent from it. That was kind of stupid on his part if you ask me. It wasn't like he needed the money. He was a Golfer, a Lawyer, he served in the war. "

"Where are we going?"

"Louisville."

"Why?"

"All hell is about to break loose there Marty and you have to be there."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

I was scratching my pants."Why would I want to be in the middle of all hell breaking loose?"

"Because it wouldn't break loose if you're not there." Ted laughed knowingly.

"So if we don't go there nothing will happen."

"That's right." Ted seemed to baiting me to ask.

"So why do we go there?"

"To be, or not to be. That is the stupid question." Ted cranked up the organ music as we broke through the "Bridge Out" sign.