Piggleyland: Chapter 13 is THE END

 

13.

 

   The next morning I woke up in Forest Hills Cemetery, under a bush, naked. My cuts and bruises had mostly healed, like they always do when I turn into a wolf, but I was covered in blood. Not mine, mostly. Shivering, I used some handfuls of snow to wash off the worst of it, and clothed myself  by wrapping a blanket of wilting frozen flowers from a recent grave around me like a toga.

     It was very early in the morning. The sun was just coming up, and there was a fuzzy silver frost on everything. It was about 26 degrees. My feet were cold, but I was still flushed from the transformation, so I wasn’t freezing.  My stomach was slightly distended, and when I burped, I tasted expensive cologne. I started walking towards my home, trying to sort things out. I had only the faintest memories from the time after I saw the moon, as usual.

     But I did remember seeing Brick Marrow’s ex-wife, Madisonne. There had been a minor prenumbral lunar eclipse that night, far too late to save Sam and Brick, but when Madisonne (who had reunited with him the previous evening when she heard about his new job) walked through the broken front door, the wolf was sleepy from overeating and weak from the eclipse. There wasn’t much left of the two businessmen, by then, but enough for her to scream at, which brought Skeetch out into the hallway.

   “What the fut!” he said as he looked into Brick’s apartment, at the wolf, and the blood, but primarily into Madisonne’s open Philippe Bloomphier trenchcoat, because all she was wearing beneath it was about five yellow post-it notes.

     The wolf had lazily leapt out of the third-story window in a shower of broken glass and  loped off silently into the city.

 

     I shuffled the three miles back to our house, looking at the pavement, leaving a trail of wilted roses,  trying to piece things together. Now I understood that it probably had been Brick and Madisonne keeping Skeetch awake the night before. I had a terrible hopeful feeling that I was about to find out that there had been some other profound misunderstandings.

   The moment I reached the front step of the Quonset, the door opened and I got hit hard and low. Flowers went everywhere, and I was flat out on my back in the front yard. The kids were laughing and hugging me, and then Vampirella came floating out through the door and as soon as I could get up she was giving me a big kiss and I already knew that I was stupid, stupid, but everything was just perfect.

     “I was so worried when you didn’t make it back by last night,” she said, looking at my much-reduced floral toga with bemusement, “Did you end up in the cemetery again? When did your flight get in?”

     “You didn’t hear about the flight?” I said. She was pulling me into the warm, candle-lit interior of the house. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, and the futon mattress, pillows and blankets from the bedroom had been brought out so that they could sleep by the fire the previous evening.

     “Well, Moe told me Sam said you’d be back by late Tuesday, and the powers’ been out, so we were over at my Mom and Dad’s. Dad had the kids demolish that old barn near the cliff in the backyard, to pay him back for the TV that Tibor destroyed, and I’ve been putting together a portfolio, um, because I quit my job, sorry!”

     She told me about Brick’s big meltdown at the Quonset. They’d just completely missed the news of the plane crash, my demise, and the memorial concert featuring vocal stylings of Lulu Bricious, spending a peaceful couple of days with the Grandparents, waiting for me to come get them, cut off from electronic media by the simple power of a glass of milk.

     I was holding the kids and Vampirella all at once. I was so glad to be home, “I’m so glad to be home.” I said, weepily.

     “How was Sam?” she asked, and kissed me again. With the tongue, even. It was heaven.

     “Can’t you still taste him, a little?”  I said.

     Vampirella put her hand to her lips and looked me deep in the eyes, narrowly, “You didn’t.”
     “I’m afraid so. Also, Brick Marrow. Not that it matters,” I said, breezily.

     “You ate Brick Marrow? That’s…terrible.” I think she was trying not to laugh, “how did that happen?”

     “Oh, well, just a misunderstanding,” I smiled, “…it’s really pretty funny, ha, I went over there because I thought maybe you were… having an affair with him, because…”

     Vampirella wasn’t smiling anymore, “you thought I was what?”

     I had to apologize a lot, real fast, then, to keep her from throwing me back out of the house. If the kids hadn’t been watching I’m sure she would have broken my nose before I had a chance to explain how deeply confusing and disorienting the last few days had been. As it was she just drew back, coolly, one eyebrow arched, and breathed evenly through her nose while simmering down and reconciling herself to the fact that I was far less intelligent that she’d previously  thought, while I roughly sketched out the sequence of misunderstandings.

     Tibor and Natasha had come off suspension temporarily and needed to be driven to school, so I showered quickly, changed into warm clothes, scraped the ice off the car and we drove them to school and dropped them off.

     When we were a block from the school, she asked me to pull over for a moment, and when I pulled to the curb she punched me very hard in the bicep.

     “Ow!” I said.

     “Now let’s go get some pie, and you can tell me the stuff that you didn’t want to say in front of the kids, you jerk,” she snarled. I held my arm.

      It wasn’t far to the pie and coffee at the Donut shop, where the smokin’ waitress now had a nametag that read “Paula.” Maybe she was triplets. I wondered if she had to share the one lung with her sisters.

     I told Vampirella everything, and by the end of it she was somewhat more amused than angry.

    “I’m sorry I punched you,” she said, “but Brick Marrow? Honestly, I think that your job, your coworkers, your hostile indifference to your job and coworkers, has contaminated you with some kind brain-eating virus. If you could seriously think that I’d sleep with that poor disgusting dead idiot- oh, fuck it. I’m glad you’re OK.” she smiled, but I could tell she was still a little mad. I gave her a kiss, and she took it, but there would be no tongue available.

     I had to see what was going on back at Retro Cab, and I needed my last check for our mortgage payment, plus I had a number of personal effects to pick up from my office; books, promotional items, yo-yos, playing cards, CDs, extra shoes and gloves, and so forth. We parked our car in the lot, and things looked fairly normal. Monk was in his garage with the bay door open, pissing on the engine of a car to extinguish a small fire. A number of cabs in various stages of disrepair were parked or stalled around the lot, and a couple of coughing vehicles were just leaving the lot for their shift.

     Vampirella and I went into the office, and it was like I’d never left. Ralph was behind his computer in his office, and there was a large framed picture behind him, and I could see his monitor reflected in the glass of the picture, and I could see that he was that he was looking at an eggplant on his computer, and I hate to say what the eggplant was being used for. I went ahead and punched in at the time clock, just for the heck of it.

     Skeetch was unconscious face-down on the dispatch desk, as usual. Moe had an ear to the phone and his mouth to a bottle of guava-raspberry schnapps. Juanet was on the other phone, ordering food, I assume. Both Moe and Juanet hung up on whomever they were talking to as soon as they saw me.

   Moe said, “Holy shit it’s the dead patriot.”

     Juanet said “I tole you it was the dead patriot? When he called yesterday and talked to Skeetch? But Skeetch? He tole me he dreamed the whole thing? And I thought that was weird? ‘Cause if he dreamed it how come I had to talk to his dream? And then you tole me just to shut the fuck up? But you hadn’t even tole me what you wanted from Cap’n Salty’s? ‘Cause you said you didn’t like Mush Puppies? So they were recommending the Salted Herring Stix? But you said just shut the fuck up Juanet like five times more? And then you drank that stuff like you’re drinking now? And soon you and Skeetch were both asleep? And then I went home early without I ever did order from Cap’n Salty’s before I left? Because I figured if anyone wanted a cab yesterday they could just wait until tomorrow because I was so HONGARY? So I stopped at the drive through at the Puddin’ Haus on my way home? And I got their new Hellraisin Mint Puddin’ with Embedded Pork Ribs? And a side of Puddin’-Stuffed Snackaroni and some Corntato Puddin’ with extra Butt’r-Flav’r Puddin’ Skwirts? And I got two o’ them Malted Chocolette Puddin’ Drinks, which is really just like regular Puddin’, but kinda watery and served in a cup not a bowl? And when I got home?”

     Moe crumpled back into his chair and took a long  pull of schnapps.

     “I was sitting in my chair? On the vinyl furniture prophylactic so’s I don’t soil the fabric? Which has this pattern of like flowers or plants? I was watching my fourteenth favorite show? Which is Seven People One Bathroom? Where there is just one bathroom in the spooky boarding house? With a scary butler who is quite mysterious? Seven People, One Bathroom, and it’s a zany scene? ‘Cause they all have to shave and poop and pee and none of them is clean? Seven People, One Bathroom, you should flush your mind, with seven anxious quirky goofs all waiting in a line? There’s a Glamorous Dame, a Spy with no name, a Shmendrick to blame, a Scientist famed, a Slut that’s untamed, a Poor Child that’s lame and a Girl that eats flame? And every episode someone has to pee themselves because the line’s too long? And Ohmygod that’s soo funny every time? But the Butler never needs to use the bathroom? So it’s mysterious, too?  And I had all my food on the tray in front of the TV? And I was halfway through my Hellraisin Mint Puddin’ with Embedded Pork Ribs? And it was saaaavory,” Juanet paused to salivate and smack her lips lustily.

     Moe interjected, “Handwich was saying he was looking to hire someone for your job. Have you seen Handwich yet, since you been back?”

     Vampirella and I looked at each other. 

     “This is the first time I’ve been back to the office. Has he not been in today?” I said, innocently.

     “Naw,” said Moe. The phone started to ring, like anyone cared, “he was in yesterday and he was all saying you’d fucked up in Florida and might not gonna be part of the Retro Cab team even before you were a dead patriot, and he had some big surprise new manager that was s’posed to start today that he said was really…I don’t know, enactivdynamothusiastic or some shit like that.”

     The ringing of the phone woke Skeetch up. He picked up the receiver and replaced it in the cradle so that it would stop ringing, and accidentally opened his eyes while he did it. When he saw me, he almost woke up entirely.

     “What the fut! What the fut!” he sputtered, “It’s the dead patriot! Shit! I’m dreaming again!” now that he was sitting up, I could see a big blue handprint on his cheek where someone had smacked him.

     “You’re not dreaming, Skeetch, I missed the flight, like I said yesterday on the phone. Thanks for telling my family. …That was sarcasm…Have you see Handwich?”

     “I…yeah, he said he was gonna fire you. I ain’t seen him today though, but he coulda passed through while I was sleepin’ because I am so fuckin’ tired…” he yawned, “so if I wasn’t dreaming yesterday I already told you about that prick Brick and his ho’ next do’ din’t I?” I nodded, “So last night I’m fallin’ asleep listening to SkullMuthuhh’s Lullabye for a Diseased Spleen cd, and I hear all this banging again from next door and I’m like fuck this, I can’t listen to him dipping his dork another night and I’m GONNA KICK HIS MOTHERFUCKIN’ASS!” Skeetch grew red in the face remembering his righteous fury, but then the blood drained out again, as he said, “so I go next door and him and some other guy had just been eaten by a dog, but listen!  There is this totally hot nude NAKED blonde babe, I mean she’s wearing just a trenchcoat, and underneath it she’s about naked except she’s just got like a couple little yellow pieces of paper stuck like to her tasty tits and over her…”

     “Is that her handprint on your cheek?”  Vampirella asked, astutely.

   “Yeah, I asked her if she was the hot dirty bitch I that I heard banging Brick, and she slapped me, and this dog jumped out a window, and then the cops got there before I could really put the serious moves on her and offer her a moustache ride, because she was upset with the death and all. I had to run back in my apartment to eat all my weed in case the cops searched me, but they just knocked and asked me if I knew who the other dead dude was. I told them I didn’t know the prick next door at all, and they left me alone, so I totally didn’t ate my last three grams of Ypsi Dirtbox Green Supreme for nothin’ …fuckin’ pigs.”

     “Saaaavory…” said Juanet again, “them Embedded Pork Ribs were…succulent…and on Seven People, One Bathroom? The spooky Butler is in the shower when the Glamorous Dame pulls the curtain back? And he asks if she requires crème rinse Madame? But it made me jump, ‘cause he’s so SPOOKY? And I upset my Puddin’s? And Hellraisin Mint Puddin’ spills in my lap? So I’m reaching for a Dinner-Size Wipe from my Wipe Caddy? And suddenly…I realize that actually, it feels good to have warm Puddin’ on me, ‘cause it’s warm, so I pour a little more of the Hellraisin Mint Puddin’ down the neck of my Seasonal Sweatshirt with the blinking light Turkey? And I squirt Butt’r-Flav’r Puddin’ Skwirts behind my ears? And it feels soo good?”

     We were all looking at Juanet, appalled. Ralph surfaced from his office and jumped when he saw me.

     “I missed the plane, Ralph. Could I have my check?” I said. Ralph went back in his office and started ruffling papers on his desk.

     “And I know it seems weird? Because mostly I just eat my Puddin’s? But it turns out I reeeaally like it when it spills on me, too, now,  ‘cause, I think, it kind of brings me…                                                       closer to my food? And I’m starting to think I might like to try spilling warm gravies on myself too? Or even gravies and Puddin’s both, at once?” beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, “I gotta buy more wipes, though?”

     Ralph came out and said, “Here’s your check, are you fired? Handwich said some other guy was gonna have your job, but he didn’t say who.”

     “I couldn’t tell you, Ralph,” I said, “we’ll just have to wait for Handwich to return,” I burped, a little, as if on cue. I wished I had an antacid.

     “So the commercial break comes on? From Seven People, One Bathroom? Right after the part where the Girl that eats flame ignites the Schmendrick’s flatulations? Which startles the Scientist, who pees himself? And he says Gadzooks? Which is allus FunNEE? So the commercials are some of my favorites, there’s that VideoSpasm! ad where the thin pimply kid’s head explodes from happiness when he gets the digital fellatios? Then, suddenly I see the King of Gravy Cafeteria where the woman is anointed Princess of Gravy and baptized by the King himself in delectable Beef ‘n’ Onion Rosemary Gravy? And that’s so strange, how this special commercial comes on just as I’m thinking of how nice warm gravy would be nice to pour in my lap and down my shirt like my Puddin’s was? So here’s the thing? I think that commercial was a SIGN? Like a sign from God that I could myself be as delicious as the wide variety of prepared convenience foods that I subsist upon? And even more there’s a second holy sign for me because just then, there’s a choir and white light from the TV? And it’s the debut of the Piggleyland BBQ Pit and Play Trough’s newest commercial for their newest culinary development? Thanks to a generous grant from the American Pork Consortium of America? Endorsed by the Department of Homeland Security as a Terrorist-Fee Food Chain Solution for Americans? Have you heard?” Juanet looked twitchily back and forth at the others of us in the office. I had no idea what she was talking about.

     Skeetch said, “You mean that new Personal Intimate Ham? They was advertising that at the Tlatchtli Match, right before the losing team was sacrificed. I love it when they cut those losin’ Tlachtli player’s tiny heads off.”

     “What the hell is a Personal Intimate Ham?” asked Vampirella. I didn’t want to hear about anything more from the American Pork Consortium, personally, so I was tugging on her sleeve to get her to go.

     “Oh! It is My American Dream come true? The Personal Intimate Ham is an exciting new Piggleyland development? Where you have your own ten pound LivingHam surgically attached to your body for a Personal Intimate Meal/Snackin’ Lifestyle Option? And payment plans are available or you can use your Ubercard?” Juanet said dreamily, her eyes glittering in the fluorescent light, “It’s totally a nerveless ham? You can have it installed on your shoulder, or to your leg, or anywhere? And it’s rich an’ meaty because it’s sooo fresh. And it regenerates as fast as you can eat it? And you can make your own Personal Intimate Ham Steaks? Or thin slice it for Personal Intimate Samwiches? Or lop off chunks for Personal Intimate Ham Salad?  And so I’m pouring a little more warm Puddin’ on myself and watching the ad and I sudden knew God was talking right to me, and spurting his own holy gravy all over me? And I have never known such a pure and radiant and succulent happiness?” a tear traced its way down Juanet’s cheek, “And I am so proud of America and God Bless the American Pork Consortium of America for allowing me the religious choice to be my own ham, and not have to worry anymore about terrorists or Orientals touching my personal meats? I scheduled my personal installation at the Piggleyland BBQ Surgical Center for this afternoon, so I gotta go early and start basting?”

     Juanet started gathering up her air fresheners and packing them in her purse. Skeetch smirked, “So what kind you getting, Juanet? And where you having them put it? They say you can have your LivingHam positioned to satisfy your other intimate needs as well...” he nudged Moe.

     Juanet looked offended. “Positioning is so totally personal between me and my hams? But I don’t mind telling you? That they have a two for one special? So I’m getting a smoked and a honeyglazed both? Which also gets me nine free cases of Gravies ‘n’ Fixin’s such as Candied Carrot Pellets and Stuffin’ Puffs?” she was breathing thickly, “And all those Fixin’s ‘n’ Gravies are guaranteed safety-sealed by Homeland Security? And your Fixin’s ‘n’ Gravies then come by contract subscription monthly? At reasonable rates for the Homeland Safe Antibiotic ‘n’ Hormone-Rich Sides ‘n’ Sauces and  that you can eat safely with the safe ham you grow yourself? Ooo- I really gotta go baste ‘n’ get ready?” she waddled out.

     Skeetch said, “Moe, gimme back that schnapps.” The phone was ringing again, and neither of them could even hear it. They were immune to the phone. “Maan, Fang, I learned a lesson last night…watch out for dogs. Those animals are a lot more dangerous than I realized. My aunt used to have a terrier, and I used to kick it sometimes and it would bite me a little, but now I got new respect, I realize it coulda just snuck up on me and eaten my legs anytime it wanted to,” he shuddered, “I hated that fag motherfucker Marrow, but shit…all that I saw left was three feet and a couple ribs. Joo know dogs can eat you? You think cats are dangerous, too?”

     “Oh, sure, I think you should be careful with any animal, no matter how apparently domesticated, especially if they feel threatened. Even hamsters can pose a serious threat if properly organized,” I told him, seriously.

     Moe said, “Skeetch, you asshole, that whole story is bullshit. Dogs don’t fuckin’ eat people, bones and all. You probably drunk-dreamed the whole dog thing. The news this morning said the cops think it was probably Al Qaeda, targeting Brick Marrow as a symbol of American Capitalist Success. That other dead guy was obviously the Arab suicide bomber. You were drunk off your ass. I bet that babe had her clothes blown off by the blast, too.”

     “Naw, I was drunk off my ass and all but I still saw a fuckin’ big grayish dog, and it was too swallowing a hand with a big gold watch on the wrist when I first saw it. And then I saw that babes’ big beautiful swingin’ tits and oh man think I her pubes were trimmed in the shape of a dollar sign, but I couldn’t quite see all her pubes because of this yellow sticky note she had stuck there, so it might have been a snake or even a butterfly. If those cops hadn’t got there so fast I woulda totally been all like wooaah, babe, harsh luck! Whyncha come into my pad and can I console you with some Old Leathersock Whiskey and a delicious bong hit or two? And she woulda been all like oh yes it’s been a real shock to be expecting to get banged again and then find my dude dead instead, and she’d get real drunk and weepy and show me how she’s shaved her pubes special, and I coulda been all supportive and like that’s sure a nice dollar sign or snake or butterfly or whatever and  there there, just slip this in your mouth and suck on it for comfort…”

     “Stop it…” I said. Vampirella had her hand over her eyes and she was shaking her head.

     “…Thass the problem with these rich bitches, they dunno even what they’re missing when they just slap some guy when he asks if they’re the hot dirty bitch that was heard getting banged through the wall ‘cause they go through their lives having to bang weak limp pricks like Brick Marrow, and they never get to try a good mouthful of blue-collar cock.”

     Ralph said, “You wear a collar on your cock? Really? Does that help? Does it really turn blue?”

     I pulled Vampirella by the arm, “So, Ralph, since I worked through the Weekend in Florida at the Conference/Fiesta, I’m taking my Weekend now. Handwich can call me if he comes back and wants to fire me or whatever. See you later- bye Skeetch, Moe-” Vampirella and I turned to walk out. I coughed up the gold watch when we got back in the car. Bones I can digest, but metal comes back up. It’s a good thing Sam never liked silver jewelry. I hacked again and a gold class ring fell in my hand. That would be Brick’s.

     “Are you OK?” Vampirella asked.

     “Yeah, fine. I’m just not used to such rich food. Can we swing out to Bunky’s Pawn Shop on the way home?”

     Bunky gave me $250 for the jewelry, and I told him I might have more coming up soon. Vampirella and I bought a bunch of groceries, including a turkey, since the next day was Thanksgiving, and we picked up a local newspaper for the classifieds and went home. The telephone and electricity had finally been restored. The kids would be home in a few hours, so we began to plan our exciting new careers in the business world.

     I was looking at retail, maybe. It was a very pleasant afternoon. It had occurred to me that since Sam Handwich never put the paperwork through to Ralph to fire me, I’d be continuing to draw my salary until Retro Cab went entirely out of business, It was difficult to project how long that could take. Maybe months, if I was lucky.

     We got the kids and had dinner, and we rolled around the Quonset for a long time until we were all tired, and at some point we all fell asleep in a big pile.