| Chapter 41
How late is thy morning hour
After a shower, 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. 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?" "Here we go"
shouted John, ignoring 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 261 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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 262 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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 camel?
*Barbara
speaks*
"Remember that fence, I've been begging you to paint
for the past six years? The one you've been avoiding cause you're so busy
all the time. 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 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 the 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 had been swept to the ocean and carried out with the evening 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."
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 263 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reviews for chapter 41
Joe Kessler - What a long strange trip it's been
"Worthy of
Publishing" reviews for chapter 41
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 261) Water droplets by Chema Madoz
PG 262) Breakfast on the Lake by Vladimir Kush
PG 263) Sounding silence by Michael Cheval
PG 263) Pieces of a dream by Raceanu Mihai Adrian
PG 263) The life of the bee from LIFE Magazine Aug 11, 1952
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