Charles Pendelton
       2008 Marty Langdon
Chapter 41

               How late is thy morning hour

Stepping into the shower felt a bit awkward, but as the warm water touched my
skin, it was the best feeling in the world! I came downstairs and was seated at the
right-hand of the table. “Eat your eggs,” said John in a glowing tone, as he moved
things that were on the counter to the table, and things that were on the table to
the sink. I sat there looking down at two sunny side up eggs, crackling in a
brushed white dish. The albugineous color made the eggs appear only slightly
appetizing. The slimy layer which adhered to them made them very unappetizing,
for they now looked like a Bulldog had drooled saliva on them. "Eat 'em, what are
you waiting for?" He then left to enter another room. "They're cold now anyway."

His voice was extracted from the bowels of a windy living room,
as the air conditioner blew the drapes in and out.

I touched the middle of one egg without breaking it and found the center to be
cool. I smiled as my head nodded forward, like a rocking chair gently pushed,
for I now realized that the answer to all of life's problems was solely in my mind. 

It's not the rain that makes a person sad,
but ones own inability to
absorb the light which radiates down from Heaven bringing peace

Slowly, I managed to gently scrape as much of that clear mucus coating from
my eggs as could be expected, before I went to work on them. Not really
interested in eating the sunny yokes, I cut away as much of the white as I could
and slowly ate it. When I was done, two bright orange eyes stare up at me from
that plate. John walks into the room and sees them. "Hey, nice job!" He used the
top end of my fork to roll one over. "How the hell did you do that without breaking
them?" That's a good question cause, I have no idea! You want one? "Yeah, why not."
He opens the drawer to remove a vegetable spoon and then proceeds to dip it in the
fat from the bacon grease that was still lying on the stove. John then puts the egg
in the spoon as Barbara walks into the kitchen. "Watch this, come on!"

We follow him into the backyard where he begins a series of deep breathing exercises.
"What are you doing," asks his mom in a mildly acerbic tone, "auditioning for the Special
Olympics?" "You think I got a shot
" "I seriously doubt it!" "Okay, here we go," shouted
John, in the direction of his mother!" With that spoon he shoots the egg into the air and
magically catches it under his tongue. It was almost as though it happened in slow motion.
Wow, I said totally unable to believe it, for it had to go a good ten feet in the air. "That's the
one thing my son can do like a pro, eat!!!" "You got that right" said John, delighted! "Your
turn." You know I can't do that man! "Come on Charles" said Barbara, "it's the least you
could do for waking me in the middle of the night like you did!" Okay, I said and John
ran into the house to get the other yoke. No sooner would he pass through the doorway
did he stroll out of the house balancing the egg on the spoon like he was walking on a
sidewalk that was beginning to freeze!

                                                                               Pg 263

He handed me the spoon with the xanthous yellow globe
and I really wasn't sure what I was about to do with it.

Okay, here we go. . .

I launched that egg yoke perfectly into the morning sky, and it had to go about thirty
feet! As it started to come down, I became over-anxious, and I misjudged it. Just then,
I twisted my ankle on one of those cumbersome stones separating the garden from the
yard and that egg landed right in my eye. In that brief instant, I saw swirling stars! Like
an uncoordinated fool, I was unable to retain my balance, and so I charged like a linebacker
over several tomato plants and straight through John's parents dry rotted backyard fence!
There were a couple of flimsy metal stand up suitcase tables set up in his neighbor's
backyard, one of which I took with me into Fran Cohen's in-ground pool.

Thank God I wasn't more to the left! Had that happened, I would have careened head
first into the six foot concrete statue of a woman casually drying herself off with a
towel. How appropriate I thought, that this particular statue be placed by a pool.

As I hit the water, after flipping over the table and landing on my back, the giant
Rottweiler who was abruptly startled tried to kill me! Lucky for the pool or he would
have! As Fran came running out with her hair up in curlers and screaming at the top
of her lungs, I saw her waving what appeared to be a large sheet of paper in one hand!
I was just bobbing up and down peacefully while trying to keep myself afloat. After
bringing that vicious dog in, she was back and screaming louder than ever!

Yes, I was surrounded by a floating section of broken fence that had probably
punctured the pool's liner. Paper plates and plastic forks that rose to the surface
where the water seemed to turn a brownish black, and oh yes, let us not forget
the long backyard table that had gone down like the Titanic, and was now resting
peacefully at the bottom of the pool.

"What the hell are you doing?" I looked at her with egg yoke running from my
throbbing eye. I'm sorry, I fell. "Fell? You crashed through the fence! Look at
my yard!!!" *Waiving her hand around like she was Italian* I could hear John
reveling in this with that laughter of his. I... I'll fix it. "Fix it? How are you
going to fix it? I'm having a party today!!!"

As I pulled myself out of the pool and rose to my feet, I could see John lying
on the grass and his mother clinging desperately to that barbecue grill to keep
herself from falling! For no obvious reason at all, I found that I had just waved
to her. "Did you just fuc-king wave to me? Are you retarded?" I don't know,
I said trying not to laugh hysterically, I might be! Her last words were, and
I quote "I'm calling the cops on you sick mot-her fuc-kers!"

With that I heard the loud sound of a barbecue grill hitting the concrete patio
and all the little rocks spilled out everywhere! Barbara was now down for the
count as well! (And I smiled) "Wherever Charlie goes, he leaves a path of
destruction and debris in his wake," said John in tears! "Like a white tornado,"
his mom added, also in tears and crying!

                                                                               Pg 264

A half hour later Armand returns from the store with milk, eggs, juice and an
assortment of bagels. He comes into the kitchen and sees
me sitting in John's
oversized pants with a soaking wet head and a big purple shiner on my forehead.
What the hell is going on here, he asks while puffing on an unfiltered chesterfield?

*Barbara speaks*

"Remember that fence, I've been asking you to paint for the past six years? The one you've
been avoiding, cause you're so busy all the time reading the paper and looking out the friggin'
window. She points to the backyard and Armand's jaw drops! *His cigarette falls to the floor*

"Gee that's nice, we just lost a fence and now you're gonna burn down the house!!!"

He held his head back and we bust out laughing! Even Armand
found himself tickled by the whole patheticalness of the situation!

A short while after this, the cops arrived with their little notepad and John
hastily escorted me into the linen closet. There I stood like Anne Frank in
the darkness, hiding. Listening in fear as they began to interrogate Armand.

"Look, I wasn't even here, I don't know what the hell happened!"

The officers then began questioning John and his mother. "We weren't here either,
we just got in the house" said John. Well, that's not what Mrs. Cohen just told us.
"Excuse me," said Barbara, "but that woman is a raving lun-a-tic! I wouldn't be
surprised if that psychopath sent someone over here to destroy our property! Do
you know how many problems that witch has caused us over the years? Plen-ty!!!"
When the voices faded into the backyard, I made like Houdini in my great escape!

Halfway to the street, I heard a female voice scream,
"You  ly-ing  bas-tards!!!"

I smiled smugly as a song began to play in my head.
It was the visit by Keith West, and in my brain it sounded
better than it
did on my Polk Audio system!

There is a place in the mind where every thought, every emotion, and every word
ever spoken is kept. A small vault that cannot be opened with a key. One that is
roughly the size of a humble loft, built on the ruins of a shanty town which was
once a thriving empire for two decadent and over-privileged souls to explore. An
empire which has long since crumbled. Within the quiet room that houses each and
every utterance, a change was taking place. Memories were dissolving. I realized
the time for moving on was now, for all the obstacles that had once cluttered my path
were now lying near the ocean, and were being carried away by the morning tide.

As I entered the dawn of a new day, the sun was shining brightly
in the horizon, expanding out and over this wonderful town of mine.

Halfway down the block, I paused to study a single bee
which had entered a bright yellow tulip, before turning
to smell the fragrant purple flowers of a garden heliotrope.

All the excitement that had come to a head over the past
six hours had now culminated into a feeling a total peace.

As I rounded the corner, I saw a beautiful lady come down her front
steps and get into a jet black sedan. Upon seeing me, she immediately
smiled, and I smiled back. As she sped off onto the main roadway
and dissolved into the fabric of the day, I thought to myself quietly.

"No different are we than the flowers that grace the land.
 We are here for a short time, and then we are no more."

Only a fool can say there is nothing out there, for there
is always something watching someone, or so it seems.

Looking up, I saw a tiny jet in the furthest regions of the stratosphere.
He must be smiling, I thought as he left a fine white trail blazoned
across the morning sky. If you factor in how fast he was actually
going, and how long it would take him to go from point A in the
heavens, to the end of the sky when I can see him no more, would
probably be like me going from here to the Bahamas, but who
am I to say. I am only an observer of time and space.

As I continued on down the road, I wondered what the plans

of the future held for me. Indeed I thought, this world is mine!

                                                                               Pg 265


Reviews for chapter 41

Joe Kessler - What a long strange trip it's been

"Worthy of Publishing" reviews for chapter

Sylvia H. Mullins - nice... I liked this ALOT!!!! I havent checked your profile
                             yet but I hope you got more books!!! 
*rating = 5 stars*

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PG 263) Quick Fried Psychedelic Breakfast by Walter von Egidy

PG 263) Water droplets
by Chema Madoz -

PG 264) Breakfast on the Lake by Vladimir Kush

PG 264) The barking of trees by Leah Palmer Preiss -

PG 265) Chesterfield advertisement circa 1949

PG 265) Explore by Jazzberry Blue

PG 265) Sounding silence
by Michael Cheval -

PG 265) Pieces of a dream
by Raceanu Mihai Adrian -

PG 265) The life of the bee
from Life Magazine Aug 11, 1952 -

PG 265) Gone out sun
by Victor Safonkin -