The Occasions (full and complete novel)

The Occasions
Written by Lee Gerstmann, 2006-2008
Chapter One: Gus And An Occasion
Gus was involved in what could be called an occasion. He preferred at the moment to be anonymous, though that anonymity was merely a blanket. Soon, he would reveal himself. However, that amount of soon time conflicted with another interpretation from whoever that other may be. He would let the clues be revealed as soon as they felt ready. If no one convinced him of readiness, so be it. As far as he was concerned, today was meant for walking and breathing, perhaps swallowing and blinking, but nothing different. Well, maybe difference was really what he hoped for but he needed a new name for such.
Earlier in the morning, he wandered off to nowhere in particular and now he was in the middle of whatever. He did not know what would go on in the new environment but he would play the role of observer. Occasionally, a person chose to ask him a question but he acted as though he did not hear. Finally, a woman – insisting she was his friend – came close and would not leave. She asked who he was.
When he talked with her, he mentioned his name but she was not sure she listened. She had an ambiguous sensibility to her that made him think of an image of a man who liked women so he was hesitant to state his name a second time. Her name, spoken loudly and clearly for all to hear, was Evelyn. She wore a brownish long-sleeved thick shirt with red and blue horizontal stripes, tucked into powder-puff-pink pants. The pants were originally black but she painted them to have that sugary frosting appeal. Those incongruities were not as mesmerizing as how the pants fitted slightly below the waistline, showing the sensibility of a shirt worn with purpose and not slipshod. With her hands in her pockets – a flirtatious move for her who did not know he would have preferred to see a giggly-girl smile – she breathed deeply to emphasize the sea-breeze motion of her stomach as she talked with him. He looked at the clock and realized he had to make a dash if he was to escape from her an hour earlier than necessary.
Evelyn was used to those who excused themselves. When she was young, she used to play a secret code game with her girl friend. They looked at a series of illustrated metaphysical spy books that showed pictures of handholds. Evelyn and her friend, Sally, would grip hands, sometimes interlocking fingers, in various configurations, in attempts to match the grips shown in the books. Occasionally, Evelyn found her fingers would stick with Sally’s and she could not pull loose. Then, she realized Sally held on with menacing intent, trying to keep Evelyn like a walking and talking souvenir. Usually, the trick lasted just a few minutes but one day Sally was mentally focused and would not let go for two whole days until the police came and got involved. Evelyn would not mention more details because she secretly enjoyed the elongated time with Sally and that enjoyment conflicted with her absolute disgust with the situation.
Never again would she fully enjoy anything unless there was an element of doubt in her enjoyment. That was the reason for why she wore her outfit. A more proper alignment of shirt-and-pants would be just a wee bit too pretty for her to like. Also, she was glad she did not remember the name of the fellow she talked with because then she would have to absolutely like him. Instead, she could seemingly like him with the chance to withdraw that liking if his behavior proved more risky than the investment guaranteed.
Gus preferred not to mention his name too often because his initials G.U.S. would provoke others to laugh and say, “Gee [G] You [U] Is [S] Stupid.” Sometimes, a bunch of mostly women, but with an occasional man or two, would stand around and talk in different languages, surrounding him like sauce on a sundae, confusing him by whispering such things as, “He’s married” and, “Ugh oh.” He was not sure if they were talking about him or someone else. They were attractive, wearing zippered sweaters and sleeves pushed up to beyond infinity, and the air from their mouths were much more user-friendly than the angry mock-soldiers – all men with not one woman to the crew – donning ski hats and red coats, swearing and complaining about bathtubs and dust mites.
Evelyn chose to call him Monkey. She was trying to figure out his real name and the first word that came in her line of mental vision was “monkey.” As she was pleased with the absurd choice, she was on that level of eighty-percent contentment when calling him by the new name. Her intent was to entice him towards her place but he was taken aback at what he figured was her manliness – though others viewed her as the most feminine creature that side of town – and he insisted on saying things that had nothing to do with what she asked. However, she was amused at his evasive behavior that was in line with her wanting a hint of doubt in things anyway, so she was not moved to ignore him.
Evelyn said, “You have good energy and I wish to bathe you.”
Gus said, “Computers do not work always. I have to scan them.”
She said, “Monkey, you are cute when you talk about school stuff. Take care of me and give me an A.”
He said, “There are twenty percent fewer calories in candy bars.”
“Oh, you precious little toadstool of a monkey man, stating a preference for candy bars and totally avoiding the subject of letting me lick you silly.”
“I’m noticing voices on the wall. They are painting pictures for me and asking me to throw them away.”
“You are the dream-boat neurotic, yes you are, gigga gigga, gigga gigga. Those are giggles with the top level of cream skimmed off.”
“Maybe someone is phoning me.”
“Take your soup. That will clear your doubt and go good with your muffins. Don’t hurt me with your insanity. I will not flee.”
Gus was frantic. He had to revert to physical demonstration. He stuck his hand down his pants and scratched vigorously. His intent was to pretend he was removing bugs but Evelyn had her interpretation. She jumped up and down, delighted. He screamed, angrily, “Can’t you see I’m not having fun?”
She clapped her hands. “I am now so glad with you! You are doing some of the right things!”
He had no choice but to look for help. He could not turn back because her introspection included investigation and nothing would stop her from following him, even if he was to fly off with the breeze. She would pretend hostility if pressured. She used to wear mittens so she knew about hot things. There were pieces of life’s puzzles for any situation.
She looked around for another friend of hers to help with the new level of chastisement she would serve. She and the new friend would look in the metaphysical database as provided by air and they would look exactly for what surprised Gus in a good way. If she had to mix in other colors to make her pants adhere to a different hue scheme and seem more congruous with her shirt, she would do so as acquiescence to one hundred percent harmony because Gus was the most important thing on her casual agenda. He would roll around in pudding if he needed to adorn a desperate act because his sudden understanding that she was completely female gave him the creeps. Her outfit confused him as the best fashion oddities should and influenced him to forget about logic.
He was no longer sure if he really wanted to avoid her or was merely pretending to do so as a way to make her want him. She knew he was going through a mental altercation because she was hoping for that and her hopes usually hopped on board. She held out her hand. He made a scrunch face and asked, “What now?”
She smiled and wiggled her fingers. “Come on. Hold my hand. I will take you to where the bad monsters refuse to tread.”
He cried, feeling fear from looking at those fast fingers mocking a swimmer. “I like those monsters that scare me! Take that pink stuff and move them elsewhere! I don’t want your smiling cat calls to stroke my emotional sunburn!”
She felt erotic and knew better than to stop. She moved her fingers faster and faster, resembling a puzzling kind of eggbeater ready to mix any ingredients jumping in the pool. As she wiggled, he bawled and slithered around in a melancholy mood and would not halt. Her enthusiasm, mixed with his agony, made an eccentric concerto reminiscent of the best ballets and history books. She said, “At least you have not met my friend Sally. If she could hook me, she could hook you. Have you ever got tangled up in a friendship knot? She can oblige the proceedings.”
He stopped crying. “If I take your hand, will you leave me alone?”
She nodded. “That will be done.”
As the gee-you-are-stupid nickname indicated, their situation would be one he least expected. However, before continuing with another thing strange, she had to reassess the first thing, strange or otherwise. Her thick shirt – one minute seeming like a turtleneck and the next minute seeming like a sweatshirt all because of various mental assessments from foreigners – changed color from brown with stripes to pink with no stripes, or maybe not. Lighting was bad and could not shine truth to the material.
Evelyn was relieved to see the garment still hold its tucked-in place, especially with her long hair and what was looking more and more like a grin though was really a continuous fascination with moving her tongue around her teeth. A scalding cup of coffee would take care of that as soon as she allowed herself that beverage. Meanwhile, the smog smelled tasty.
Gus was anxious to find the result of Evelyn’s shenanigans. He noticed her still-wiggling fingers and thought of a top spinning more slowly each few seconds. Perhaps soon she would disappear altogether. Then again, when she suddenly seized his hand and frowned in that ever-so-famous angry-mistress-archetype pose, his thoughts were no longer cloudy. Now, the sky of his mind was a coquettish dark-blue with a possible chance of rainstorms. Her holding on to him was like her releasing a bunch of coins from the first hand to the second. A penny could drop and get swiped by a pigeon. She would lead him into situation congestion, pulling him through the acid sting of a new routine.
She said, “We can now play like boyfriend and girlfriend.”
He said, “Unless we choose not that route and separate like so many of my minutes are hoping.”
She dug her fingernails in his hand. “Ours is a scene from a painting! Just pretend there are dots and come with me!”
He had the mistaken idea his hand could be removed easily. When he tried to pull away, he figured he would have more luck removing a rag from under the wheel of a piano. He would not dare try to request nakedness from her because her outfit proved to be the deceptively charming body mask. He settled for wiggling their hands back and forth until she stopped that activity like a conductor regaining control from a runaway concerto. They walked past various placements of garbage and the bums selling the stuff, and then headed towards a bustle of business associates squirming and rushing towards an unknown humdrum.
Then, they passed Sally. When Sally ran back towards them, she moved her hand this way and that as well as lifting her arms up and holding a piece of paper. Evelyn knew what was next. She noticed Sally was wearing a pink sweatshirt tucked into same-colored jogging pants as her statement indicating a correction of Evelyn’s style. The sweatshirt had a picture of a yellow flower on the front as if to give a message that everything was okay. However, Evelyn knew better than to think everything would be okay when eyeing that piece of paper appearing suspiciously like an illustration from one of the metaphysical spy books. Sally’s goal must have been to intrude on Evelyn’s good thing and gain information out of spite. She was jealous Evelyn had a friend to keep – though she figured Evelyn interpreted her own actions as “merely dragging this thing for a while” – and, though she forgave Evelyn for escaping from her clutches, her clutches were lonely and needed more aesthetic food.
If Sally could get close enough, she would grab Gus for herself. Now, merely a few centimeters away from the twosome, Sally dropped the piece of paper that revealed itself as blank. She said, “Hello, my good friend, Evelyn. I see you have here someone who is nice and has a full head of hair. May I take him from you?”
Evelyn said, “If you’re referring to what happened with us, I will admit I secretly enjoyed it and will look forward to it happening again while I scream. Yet, it cannot happen because I am dragging this thing and, if I stop, the thing will run.”
Sally frowned. “I want that thing for myself.”
“Then, go to the store and buy a packet of powder and add water and make a thing for yourself.”
“If only such worked like that. I assume he is made of more than powder.”
“So far, he has not told me if that’s the case but I do detect traces of artificial whimpering.”
Sally nodded. “You can convert artificial whimpering into the authentic deal if you regurgitate some of your tendencies to be a miser.”
Evelyn sighed. “This coded talk upsets me. I will speak from the heart. You can pretend to be my twin by wearing similar clothes but you cannot take my goody-bag away.”
Gus should have been offended but was rather amused at references to him as “that thing” and “my goody-bag.” He tended to visit historical and periodical rooms in town libraries and scanned antiquated gems of balderdash as a mock adherence to academic musing. To him, if the world was an ever-changing assemblage of situations, he might as well pretend the knowledge of yesteryear was contemporary. For him to hear two women – dressed equally in erotic-eccentric regalia – bicker about him as though he was an item bought at a garage sale flattered that part of him not used to hearing compliments concerning his physical attributes. There was only so much of that your-mind-is-beautiful spiel that anyone could take.
However, his delight would not last long, because he had false errands to run and he chose instantly to do them. He also wanted to see what would happen once he got away from Evelyn. Maybe Sally would grab him, making him choose Evelyn’s hold again. Cycles never ceased. Still, they were keeping up the jabbering. Gus pretended to listen while he took a key from his pocket. He inserted the key between his hand and Evelyn’s and pried his hand loose and ran away. The two women were still talking and had not noticed he was gone. He was not sure if such was a compliment or an insult but he preferred to spend the rest of his day indulging in other mischief. Gus would either miss or not miss the both-soft-and-firm handhold.
Then again, he was not sure how he felt about anything as he continued walking around in a daze, not wanting to talk to anybody but knowing he had to talk to someone if he was to be the person he wanted to be. Somehow, Evelyn had imported her energy into his hand with a stickiness that came from touching another person long enough to seem bonded in that hot-summer-sweat type of glue stuff. The logic was not normal. He could not concentrate. All he could do was walk in a northern straight line, hoping to meet a fellow who could counterbalance his erotic jitters by pissing him off with manliness. There were those who said hello to him and walked as if busy, first standing upright then bending down continuously, rubbing their chins and asking questions about computers as if the world was one big stock market and serious time was not to be changed. If he saw a man who resembled that category, he would be grateful in the best possible irritation-pleasure sense. Finally, he noticed a man sitting next to a building, singing what could be called opera but was probably just sore throat mumbling. Gus asked, “Sir, could you please irritate me for a while? I have a problem.”
The man said, “My name is not Sir, though you can certainly call me that. My name is Herb, as in Buttered Herb Toast. In fact, that is my full name but I prefer to be called just Herb… not Just Herb but Herb… not Notjustherbbutherb… if you know what I mean. If you don’t know what I mean, then I will explain it to you. My first sentence was paradoxical. Actually, not the first sentence but the sentence coming afterwards and that is what everything is when you touch flowers. Do you get my drift?”
Gus said, “Sir, I do believe you are irritating me more than I meant. I was not referring to actual irritation as in you bothering me. I meant something more like a philosophical challenge to take me out of my confused rut.”
Herb said, “I know what you meant. I am crazy, nevertheless. Not the type of crazy you are assuming, though. My type of crazy comes and goes at whim… depending on whether the police show up.”
“Still, my situation is quite difficult. Evelyn and Sally are talking and I escaped. I need you to bring me back to ground.”
Herb frowned. “Who are Evelyn and Sally? What does that have to do with you escaping? What do you mean when you say you escaped? Plus, what sort of ground do you wish to be back on?”
Gus raised his voice. “Are you who I think you are or are you just sitting here as an incidental nuisance? I need to know some philosophical things and I’d like you to explain them to me.”
“Okay. First off, the world works in an incidental way. If I am to assume to know what you meant by your escaping a conversation with two women known as Evelyn and Sally, I am assuming they were making love to you and they were using hot and sticky words that freaked you out. You have come to the conclusion that you are homosexual and don’t like being tied down by two women who are also into bondage. However, the world is cruel. You were not meant to be as homosexual as you act. You are being told by the world that women will chase you and bother you and the world tells you that such a thing makes you cry. In other words, you are doing what the world wants because you are tormented.”
Gus kept from yelling but just by a small amount of restraint. “You are totally wrong. I am not homosexual. If you need to know, Evelyn held my hand and it felt good but then Sally came and wanted to take my hand because she was jealous of Evelyn keeping me. I like both of them but I also dislike them. That is why I let Evelyn hold on as long as I did but that is also why I finally escaped.”
Herb shook his head. “Why are you telling me this? Who are you?”
Gus was nervous. “I’m the fellow who just came a few seconds ago to talk to you! Don’t you remember me?”
“Are you my brother? Mamma told me that you’d come in a deceptive cloak, wanting to institutionalize me. She said you’d wear a goat’s costume. You look equivalent.”
Gus bowed. “I’m sorry if I bothered you, sir, in the middle of your crackup. I’ll leave you alone.” He walked off.
Herb got up and followed him. “Perhaps you don’t know that I have feet and I will follow you like your friends Evelyn and Sally.”
Gus continued walking but addressed Herb’s comment. “You can do what you want but I’ll ignore you.”
Herb was refreshed. His attitude was becoming more like his mouth-watering name. Just like a gourmet who cannot keep away from a juicy steak, Herb could not keep away from a luscious freak with bigger problems. Herb would chase Gus to no end. Yes! He would suck Gus’ vibes until Gus pleaded loudly as the allegorical coals turned warmer and warmer, reaching a further level of discomfort. He would push up his sleeves because he knew that Gus did not like that look on men. Actually, Herb’s sleeves were short so he left them alone but he mentally geared himself towards whatever Gus hated. That way, if by any chance Gus happened to zoom off and hide, Herb would smile, knowing he did Evelyn and Sally a favor by giving them a break when they still wanted to bother Gus but did not know where he was. Herb assumed he was not sure what he meant by that thought but he was happy to synchronize himself with Gus’ attitude.
Gus kept walking, faster and faster, assessing Herb was the shadow of a dog determined to bite him. Finally, Gus was tired and fell down. If Herb kicked him, that would be fine. Gus refused to move further. He needed to rest, even if Herb’s chastising voice interfered with the harmony. Herb lay down next to Gus and licked his face. He took out a bristle brush from his pocket and placed it on Gus’ nose. Gus said, “Bother me none, yet ye will.”
Herb sighed. “Just promise of a splendor you permit. Shall I make you out to be the homosexual I’m pretending you to be?”
“Whatever. I cannot handle anything new. Do what you want and call it by an old name. Your fingers are anybody’s fingers. Any song you sing will reach my ears with precision. I see a blimp.”
“I see curtains. I also see vehicles. Too many moments are abroad. Hair shall be stroked. Do you remember my name, Mr. Normal? I prefer not to remember yours.”
If Herb were to keep next to Gus, Gus would deal with the situation. After all, he did request for trouble however evasive that request was stated. However, to do so longer than the few split seconds already spent would work as an exaggerated and infantile exploitation of time. Anything else would cause less friction when serving to disturb, whether hair color or shirt-scribble. Even things like short hair or marching strides would work as easy-listening lulls compared to the junk-infested wobble-leers and gaping shudders threatening his relaxing. Where was the rainbow or the zebra when needed? Where was the straight line or zigzag pattern? He needed to find a new and less dangerous pet than Herb. The next moment would serve as the other half of his occasion.
As if nothing had happened, Gus rose slowly and smiled. Around his circumference were shouting matches and jousting-with-utensils free-for-alls, thrown at him with accurate precision in attempts to sway him from his already swerving course. Everyone had problems but some chose to make those problems a part of the limelight. However, nothing meant much in his world. Cars and trees were everywhere, almost staring at him, pushing buttons faster and faster, with designations towards flirting activity but fifty percent of the choreography was masquerade.
His knowledge would not have included what Evelyn and Sally had been doing. Evelyn was arguing while Sally agreed during a back-and-forth display of grab and retreat, fixed in a monotonous repetition of scattered phrases categorized in a filing system meant in other than all those things stated when Gus pretended to know what they were doing. They became aware of his exact location because of a psychic conspiracy. They pleaded with fate for information. However, if they searched for him, he would wander elsewhere, geared by luck. No matter what happened, his destiny was both unaware of, and guided by, altercations.
In a few hours, Evelyn, Sally and Gus would reconvene accidentally. Suddenly, while walking in a certain direction, the two women saw an acquaintance, Suzie. Suzie was wearing a zippered sweater and never did the tucked-in look. Her style involved pushing up her sleeves and her idea was to mimic a sort of thing that reminded one of candy and cleaning houses. Her friends included the crowd who swarmed around Gus wondering if he was married and also pushed up their sleeves. However, Suzie tried impulsively to take off her sweater but she forgot to pull the sleeves out so they became inverted upon attempt at removal and her arms were stuck. Then, when she realigned the sweater on her body, hoping the sleeves would pop back in place, the sleeves became fixed in their new positions, and Suzie discovered her sweater was caught at her arms like a ring stuck on her finger. Evelyn suggested a bucket of water but that would just make Suzie wet and angry. Their bond was based on sticky situations whether the subject was the disappearance of Gus or the inability to remove an article of clothing. Evelyn and Sally were delighted to hear of Suzie’s misfortune because they could all gossip. They wanted to talk about Suzie’s plight but Suzie was irritated.
Evelyn smiled and said, “Wow, Suzie, you now can draw in your coloring book! You look just like a pretty pink Popsicle dripping on a treadmill!”
Suzie was bouncing up and down, angrier and angrier. She screamed, “Stop all your insults! I’m not a house painter or a mechanic with a lower class mentality! I’m metaphorically stuck in a keyhole with no chance for a pardon! Do you know what it’s like to be gawked at and not able to work my sleeves loose? It’s like an exploitation of my finicky eccentric fashion obsession, like an animal in the zoo that keeps chewing a certain way and gets filmed when the corn is mashed by the molars! It’s really unpleasant when the sounds of the ha-ha people sink lower in the depths!”
Sally made a grab for Suzie’s hand. “Oh, you look nice, sweet cheeks! You get red in a cute way when you hate us! Don’t worry about your sleeves. You are experiencing a counterbalance that is equivalent to our shirt tucking and sweatshirt tucking. As you notice, I am wearing a sweatshirt and Evelyn is wearing something that seems like a shirt but I don’t know what it’s called. However, she and I have that in common and you have rebelled against that look and that’s why you’re in trouble. Well, actually not but we would like to think that you are disturbed by your actions.”
Suzie added crying to her bouncy behavior. “Yes, I am upset! You had better believe your movie-mind about that! It does my image no good to be in the mess. You should suggest something.” She stopped crying because she realized her makeup would run unless she imposed an act of happiness.
Sally said, “You can help us look for Gus. He is our new goal. If you find him before we do, you can grab his finger. Evelyn and I have already made a trademark concerning the holding of his hand. Evelyn has held his hand and I am angry with her because she would not let me do so also but I’m telling you to try the finger bit. You can be different.”
Suzie nodded. “I know where he is. Such is not because I really do but because I have intuition and I choose to pretend to know things. I am going to leave the both of you and chase him.”
When she ran, she used full force, cutting any semblance of wind challenging her direction. Without any further knowledge, she walked towards the first man she saw who happened to be Gus. She did not think the man was Gus but that doubt caused her to act within the bounds of her inner psychology not usually in the front of her judgment. She grabbed his finger and moved the digit around, perhaps mixing cream. Gus figured she was a part of the Evelyn-Sally-Herb-creep conspiracy and said, “Tomorrow, I have to shop for apples.”
Suzie said, “Have you ever read magazines? Many of them have women like me, holding on to their star boyfriends and strolling through the avenues. You feel good like an unwilling participant should.”
Gus pulled as hard as possible but Suzie’s grip was stronger than Evelyn’s was and probably stronger than Sally’s, though he admitted reluctantly to want knowledge for sure. Suzie’s face was a fraction prettier but her figure was just as good as theirs were and he was mostly concerned with waists. She looked at him with first a query and then a threat, all the way through the physiognomic library from angry until zealous. He observed his finger looked like a big fat pink car stuck in an equally pink tunneled thoroughfare that closed slowly whenever attempts were made to free the vehicle.
Gus figured he ought to enjoy momentarily the benefits of having a new partner. However, as soon as reporters arrived, he would make up an even taller tale than the narrative all set up. Sunshine lights might dim from the control panels operated by fate. Dice might be thrown on a cruise ship heading for an offshore station. Mirrors would mimic their future. A suit and tie would spice up the already seasoned adventure. He would have none of that. Conclusions were one thing but the woman glued to him was another. The further he wriggled and yanked, the further she giggled and resembled a toy. Whatever manufactured passion plays did, the result was a less than sufficient job with plenty of rewriting needed. He said, “I am going to be regular. I will state things so you understand. This has to stop.”
Suzie blushed and said, “If I wore a different outfit, this would stop. However, my sleeves are stuck and I can’t take off my sweater so I have to do the equivalent to what I’m going through. You are the perfect fashion accessory to my embarrassment. At least now, if anyone laughs at me, they’ll laugh at you, too.”
“That does not make me feel good. You are pretty but I do not know you. Please release me.”
“There are too many songs by that name, already. Please don’t make up another one.”
Gus took the key from his pocket and attempted to use it in the same way as when in the dilemma with Evelyn. However, Suzie’s hand somehow dried like gum no longer chewed. She did not look like a person anymore, either. Her features were like a drawing on an invisible billboard pinned to the breeze by a phantom messenger working gearshifts. She and he were now one. She asked, “Where do you want to go?”
Gus wondered what others of lesser quality would decide. Many people strolled through the city, holding jackets to their mouths or browsing through CD selections. Some looked at computers and others watched them looking. One fellow may have a knapsack while another searched first west then east. One might hold a video camera and another would do a shake of the head. All the flavors added up to nothing in a world where change was obvious. He should have known better than to pretend he could skip through the area unnoticed. Every time he tried such a course, another was prone to stop him. A part of him went through the routine because of morbid curiosity but the results were usually temporary. How could he stare at gutters now? How could he call up random salespersons? He asked, “How do you know Evelyn and Sally?”
She said, “I don’t really know them. I know of them enough because all of us are attracted to superficiality.”
“So, that means your attraction to me is not real.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps that is so but that is what makes it attractive.”
Gus frowned. “Why do you say your sweater sleeves are stuck? How can such a thing happen?”
She mimicked his frown. “Why do you say you can’t let go of my finger? How can such a thing happen?”
The pulling match started again. All the weirdness in the world was nothing compared to his individual conundrum. He yelled, “I will not be your husband!”
She giggled. “We’re not getting married. If I married you, our attachment would be purposeful. We are like this accidentally. Forever we shall stay like this, but accidentally, nevertheless.”
He sighed. “Fine, then. How about if you take me where you want to go?”
“I’ll go where you want to go.”
He growled, and then snickered. “I shall take you to my favorite fire hydrant. We can assume the hydrant will open up and squirt water on us.”
“Evelyn wanted to put water on me. Perhaps you intuited that after reading the vibes from my holding you.”
“No. Everyone wants water.”
Gus walked slowly, forgetting Suzie was with him. Tomorrow would be a day when he was alone, if all worked out correctly. Since he no longer acknowledged Suzie to be by his side, he figured he was handicapped in a way not revealed. He sat by the hydrant and sang. Not all his song selections were met with approval. Occasionally, squirrels came and threw bits of acorns and muffins at him. Cats would scratch his face, deceiving him with moves equivalent to tangos. Babies would scream and fat bankers would laugh.
Each occasion was a thing in itself. If he learned nothing else, he realized that not all things went according to design. Sometimes, disc jockeys programmed commercials geared towards upset. He could not help how others thought of him as strange. Some people looked alike so he was not sure who accused him of eccentricity and who said merely as such in a mocking tone. He would learn to love the ceiling and the robot and the gems and all those other things that people loved. Was he a person? He was not sure whether he was himself or someone pretending to be him. That thought soothed him.
Night was coming slowly to town. In a few minutes, he would relax on the sidewalk, next to the hydrant, ignoring comments from others saying, “Why is that cute girl clinging to the freak?” He would watch the ants crawling towards their food. He would listen to the car horns honking. He would daydream about the woman who would soon meet him. If he had to admit that Suzie was still with him, he would scream. However, she squeezed her hold of his finger until he groaned. Okay, he would admit she was there, but just for a few minutes.
He asked, “What are you doing here?”
She smiled. “You asked that a couple of moments ago.”
“I haven’t been sitting here that long, have I?”
“You haven’t… but we have.”
He yelled. “Why the hell can’t you take off your stupid sweater? It makes me think lurid thoughts because you’re holding my finger, damn it!”
She sighed. “I wish I could do what you want but I have decided to never listen to you. Unless, of course, you come with me and we can talk with Evelyn and her friend. I think her friend is Sally but I am pretending to be dumb. Dumb is better with you. You are smart in your way but it is a different kind of smart and you look dumb in comparison with others.”
Gus sighed. “Thanks.”
Suzie let go of his finger, accidentally. She said, “You’re welcome.”
Gus wiped off his finger. Suzie realized she had let go and screamed. Gus said, “Shut up.”
Suzie cried hysterically. “I can’t shut up. I’ve lost my power source! I’m now just another person like anybody else.”
Gus got up then so did Suzie. Suddenly, Evelyn, Sally, Suzie and Gus were walking together. They all noticed each other. Gus was relieved. Now, his occasion was like at first. They all said hello to each other and waved at the same time. Then, they all explained how they were feeling and laughed in sync with each other. They were happy to see each other because now the pie was whole. Each had a different ingredient but the seasoning mix was complete when all the elements were combined. They all thought to themselves about how wonderful life was because they had each other to irritate. If they liked each other, that would be a different story. However, they preferred not to think about a different scenario. They would walk down the street together, and then leave to go their separate ways, all at the same time. Such was not because they were prone to do so. They merely decided to act without purpose. Never would they be that way again. However, they mentally prepared for the possibilities of next week.
Chapter Two: An Occasion Extended
“What a freaking stupid pot pie of selfish reckless abandonment this whole area has become” Gus thought to himself, assuming today was tomorrow or half-and-half combination thereof. He was not sure of anything. How the hell did he find himself involved with such anti-mirror-image freaks as whom he encountered a few seconds – or days or years – ago? Cold winds were tempestuous enough without the allegorical ship bumping upon his ever-so-real persona. All the stuff said during the last mumble-exchange would have to remain in an island-of-a-pile until forgotten many years before history fetishists poked his mind for party-favor trivia. Itching bugs of probability and circumstance could not wait to cause new scrubbing. However, all intoxication ended finally… as a myth stated. Until then, he would approach his second abode – the library – where delusion was safe between hard covers. A subliminal sensation flooded his nerves with a déjà vu feeling of uh-oh. As the noise became apparent, Gus looked foolishly behind him and noticed a woman wearing the same sweater-with-sleeves-pushed-up outfit as Suzie. Then, he gasped and fled when said shadow was Suzie herself. He figured she decided impulsively to sprinkle a pepper dash of pestering on his environment by disregarding the rest of the world and meld into him like spilled ink on soggy soap. She did not think about her movements. She followed him by attraction and whim. However, no one could stop her. The goal: snatch hand and keep focused on sticking with Mr. Awesome. If Gus was not quite one hundred percent her ideal of a mate, he was in proximity of her clutches and both of them combined satisfied gossip tellers. If not for her rule against labeling anyone as perfect, Suzie would claim Gus was the ultimate representation of her daydreams but, alas, the poor fellow had to settle on being ninety-nine-point-five percent scrumptious. However, she was merely trying the rule after taking Evelyn’s advice.
Suddenly, he heard more weirdness. Suzie was making sounds. She was saying, “Oo ee oo ee.” Now would not be a good time for his stopping and questioning her on the meaning behind the vocalizations, especially since she ran faster and tried to grab him. However, another woman, in front of Gus, stopped suddenly, where he sped, dropping her bag of cue cards. As he fell down upon impact with her apparent force field body, she shook her head and said, “I’m so sorry. I dropped my logic.”
Suzie screeched to a halt, and then jumped on top of Gus’ vertical frame. She said, “You will all see what my destiny holds. Thank you, stumbling woman. I can now be mold to this man’s bread, in a manner of speaking. A flaky wheat-like way of speaking, at that. Oo ee oo ee.”
Gus wanted to ask about those obnoxious sound bytes until he noticed the completely illogical statements on the new woman’s logical cards. Words were mixed around as if without purpose. Statements were cut up to resemble print pieces.
Gus asked, “What is the purpose of toying with muck? I see nothing but random juxtapositions of coupon advertisements combined with lines from poems as well as mathematical queries and grocery lists. You could have abandoned the pile and moved to the left so I would not be here.”
The woman said, “My name is Martha if you need to know in a way like Juanita Joaquina Miller who wrote about warmth and flowers and fragrance and beauty or Robinson Jeffers who wrote about the final unridiculous peace but now I noticed the International Paper box and the Wild Creatures book and my zipper is stuck but I do not wear zippers on my hats so I guess I am the tinkling of your bell but I am also rushed and hey and forth and all and blob.”
Gus shook his head. “You must have been studying the aspects of your personality not available to you unless you look through a black mirror. You have a dark reflection that utters its nasty stench through your breath but your words have an odor, as well. Also, if you notice, the heavy shadow on top of me is Suzie. You must know who she is and you arranged for the happening.”
Martha said, “Time for supper intrusion have forth in spending cash register my thoughts piled up on packages cannot go forth in a tantrum unless vacuumed through sponges and other piecemeal activities meant to placate the inner dogmas of religious zealous and speeches worthy of your confusion help me I am falling in quicksand without the aid of surprise or surrender and a happy planet to shine through my eyes on account of a slippage in the account system during the time I asked for the bank teller and received a tofu pizza while my flowers are mussels and meat and mail and sting and petunias and all of that.”
Gus screamed, “Get the hell out of here!”
Martha bowed and walked elsewhere. Suzie pulled Gus up. She grabbed his whole hand and smiled. She crooned, “How lovely everything is becoming! Instead of my grabbing just your finger, I will hold your whole hand and partake of all the delight such activity offers.”
Gus shrugged. He understood the logic behind the craziness. For fun, he lifted his hand and attempted to slip it out of hers but her fingers gave a crushing squeeze while his hand turned red. He was reminded of a friend of his whom had an unfortunate mitten incident. Details were foggy, especially since the friend chose usually to cover half his own face with a mask made of wrinkled fruit so his narratives were equivalent allegorically with the fresh tinge of bittersweet gourmand fare. If the friend had covered his whole face, Gus would have understood the stories in full.
Gus kept struggling with his hand while Suzie felt more aroused each millisecond. The steam from her aura was ready to percolate and the tentative tea would stick to one’s mouth like an overly friendly composite of peanut butter and taffy. Gus was aware of relationships but never knew how complicated they were. Perhaps all married couples spent their first several years never letting go of each other until trust or boredom came into play. However, Suzie did mention she was not interested in marriage so that allowed Gus to date other women while feeling the pleasure of Suzie’s hand. Then again, her appearance mocked women working in libraries so he was confused whether or not he believed she was worthy of him.
Her goal was to be by his side twenty-four hours a day while he wiggled frantically and screamed. As long as there was tension in the relationship, she did as the pocketbook suggested. They could walk towards town halls and grocery stores, conversing with any curious onlooker willing to publish interviews. Gus was uncertain Suzie was his exact type. He preferred Sally’s appearance but something about Suzie’s odd ways turned him on. He could swing arms with her and look at the wrinkled fabric just below her elbows and imagine getting his hand stuck on a pink blob of ice cream. Others would salivate jealously while he and she were trooping happily on any given meadow in a psychedelic song. He needed Herb to cause friction again but Herb’s absence was another sort of friction that was legitimate.
He asked, “Why do you say ‘Oo ee’?”
She answered, “You are a beautiful goodie so I use the ‘oo’ sound from beautiful and the ‘ee’ sound from goodie because I am conscious of the essence of things. The ‘oo’ and ‘ee’ sound give the point without my adding extra syllables until we know each other better.”
“What is going on with us, now? I seem to be talking sense because I am with a crazy person like you and I wish to eat pasta.”
“You are thinking of the Italian restaurant where I plan to bring you. The chef is named Toby De Lorenzo and he has a great place where he will inform us of what we shall do next.”
“Is he your guru?”
“No, but I listen to him without question because he uses spice in his sauces and the smells are perfect.”
“How much is a meal there?”
Suzie shrugged. “Don’t worry about the prices. Everything is reasonable. A loaf of bread costs twenty dollars but that is only if you can’t order the octopus sandwich, which is fifty dollars, not including a tip of fourteen dollars plus two extra dollars for his time and trouble to take the tip from you. Of course, most people who eat there only have two dollars and seventy cents for everything so he lowers the price so they only have to pay ten dollars more than the original price. By lowering the price, they don’t mind that he is charging them extra. For instance, a Russian diplomat ate there and he had to determine whether or not his psychological mind trips were a product of the brainwashing done to him by one of the plants in the hallway. Then he looked at his fork and carried on a conversation. He was definitely one of the better customers. He only had to be carried out of there by one arm instead of two because one of his arms gesticulated rather fond gestures to Toby who viewed the diplomat’s mustache and figured the guy was really from France and playing a game on account of a talk show. Anyway, as the fellow was hoisted from his chair, he paid first twenty cents and then sixty cents and then the whole price of the meal as well as the extra lowered price and then paid double that amount as well as the tip and the extra tip. Because of that, Toby has made his place a rather fine area for people to eat in and I go there because he tells me I have to read page forty-two. I never see books there but I see a lot of dice so I’m thinking he’s a part of a mob who likes to trick me. Anyway, I need you to come with me so I can use you as protection when I tell him you like me. He knows you like me because I plan to tell him anyway and you know whether you like me or not so your deception towards me will help him like you. I hope I haven’t explained more than enough.”
Suddenly, Gus realized he was involved with fraud. Suzie would apparently go to prison for identity theft through claiming ownership of his hand and he was against feeling like a new building retrofitted. She was corruption supreme and he was a structural weakness for allowing her to plant her foundation on his body text. Spores were known to cling on objects and make mold. He refused emotional contact. She would have to attach herself to a pole and gobble like a gander. He was not a delivery driver or a cash item. Newspapers had an immediate need for her investigation but his choice was to embark on a freight line. However, they stepped into Toby’s restaurant. A tall and thin man with long hair waved to Suzie and eyed Gus with a look indicating to take a right turn on the highway and keep going straight until finding destiny.
The man said, “Hello, dear victim. My name is Toby.”
Gus was nervous. Suzie squeezed his hand even harder. Toby smiled and pointed to one of the plants in the hallway. Suzie breathed audibly and moved her hand around like butter on a pancake. Gus enjoyed the sensation and wondered if he was hypnotized.
Suzie said, “Don’t scare Gus like that. He is my friend. We are now husband and wife. I forgot to tell him of the new development but I assume he will understand I can never let him date another woman.”
Toby was lying on the floor and slithered like a snake. The floor contained geometric patterns when observed closely. Information would soon allow him to give an opinion. He stood up again and said, “I think it’s cute when you become obsessed, Suzie. Gus, you ought to be happy with your new girlfriend, also known as your wife or cobra. She has come here so I can examine the way you are joined. I can give a horoscope that shall determine the course you plan to take.”
Gus nodded and shook his head. He could not decide between yes and no. Suzie showed Toby her handhold with Gus.
Toby nodded and said, “I see a work of art. You have your fingers pressing on the back of his hand, making a crease form in the middle, much like a jeep’s trail on the desert. If Gus tried to slip away, he would encounter a trick lock. You have both sides of his hand secured. All he can do is rest, so to speak. Yours is called a Determination Factor. Unlike the roots of indeterminacy, you are making your own determinacy. This is the beginning of the end of anarchy. Yours is a statement that nothing is given to chance, regardless of Gus’ wanting to live according to whim. He has needed someone like you to guide his every move since the day he was born. However, he could not have known you while he was playing in his crib. He could have been born on a farm and lived in a trough for all that. Anyway, you have come around to show him how a mixture of salt and flour can make a consistent dough for pizza. Once the dough is cooked, your emotions will turn fiery and you will experience passion both because of Gus’ panic and your determination to quench his thirst and douse his flame with your menacing smile.”
Suzie giggled. “Oh Toby, you are so stupid. I came here to make you jealous. Do you remember? You are my boyfriend whom I refuse to touch and Gus is my boyfriend whom I refuse to not touch.”
Toby winked. “Yes. We make a good threesome.”
Gus screamed, “I will not be a part of any conspiracy!”
Toby laughed. “That is your problem. If you remember Herb, he has wanted to track you down since the moment he passed out. He had a spoon he wanted to insert between your hair strands. He has managed to stay asleep and that is not good but I am here to the rescue. Suzie is just a front. She has engineered everything to her liking but such is merely technicality. We, as her employees, are the real things. We make things happen. The both of you should walk to the park and enjoy the flowers. I have vanilla incense and peach jelly in case you want extra ambiance.”
Gus said, “You’re the one who needs ambiance. We have each other.”
Toby sighed and said, “Indeed.” He walked towards them and tried breaking their grip. Suzie squeezed tighter and Gus grunted from pain. Toby was furious and kept trying to free Gus. Suzie nodded. Toby was touching her hand regardless of her preference for Gus.
Gus said, “I’m bored. Can anything else happen?”
Toby stopped trying to separate Gus and Suzie. He said, “You shall see your old friends.” He clapped his hands.
Evelyn and Sally entered from the kitchen. They had been listening to European jazz, pretending the music was American because the radio was clean. Evelyn said, “When you brought us in from the cold so we could work with you, Toby, the weather was sunny and that proves how cold we feel but you did not mention anything about us doing real work. We have been sitting by the radio, hearing things from inside the radio as well as inside this room. Does that mean the sounds from outside the radio come in the radio to haunt us? No. It means you are disturbing us! What do you want now? Do you want to look at our outfits again?”
Toby sneered. “I never wanted to look at those silly tucked-in sweater-sweatshirt pink-sugar monstrosities! You make me wince! However, I point in the direction of Suzie and her new boyfriend, Gus. I imagine you know him.”
Sally frowned. “If Gus agrees to let go of Suzie’s hand and lets me hold on, I’ll gladly un-tuck my sweater and wear it loose. Of course, I have on a T-shirt underneath and that will remain tucked in but at least he will see me wearing something outside of my pants, for once.”
Evelyn shook her head. “You don’t really mean that. You’ve never worn anything un-tucked in your life.”
Sally sighed. “I won’t admit to whether that is true or not but I will leave it to your imagination. Part of the fun of a mystery is to know that it cannot be solved without the element of interpretation. Since my memory works as it chooses, the truth can never be revealed. All I can do is make up for it by doing things in the future and my future says that I will do just that.”
Gus was excited by what Sally said. He was curious to how her grip would compare with Suzie’s. He wanted to try a different flavor. He pulled as hard as possible but a problem occurred. Suzie was excited because Gus showed initiative so she clung tighter to show her enthusiasm. Sally bounced up and down from anger. Evelyn smiled, knowing Sally would keep the sweater tucked in. Toby interpreted everything as though each part was an ingredient for a new narcotic recipe. He had to leave the room and throw away various bags and boxes. Then, he dusted the cabinets and scrubbed the walls. An imaginary friend knocked on the door of his ear and reminded him of an inspection coming soon. The inspector was from the fire department and wore prep-styled clothes so he could impress the gay clientele and did not know Toby was heterosexual. Then again, the imaginary friend thought Toby was bisexual and kept mentioning so to Toby. However, Toby’s girlfriend was involved with another man at the moment, proving the legitimacy of what the imaginary friend surmised. According to various books on cinematography, action can be related to any number of causes. One cause could be too much thyme in the asparagus salad. He also heard the front door opening and laughter before the door closed. He figured the gang walked out, respecting Toby’s privacy during a discussion moment with his imaginary friend. The moment was now and the friend’s name was Heffler.
Heffler appeared from behind Toby’s ear and wore his typical gray and pink jumpsuit decorated with purple and yellow feathers. He wore a mustache on his wrist and sunglasses on his neck. His ears were covered with miniature brown paper bags and a pizza coupon was taped to his forehead.
Heffler said, “I wore my mesh to cover up your tracks. You were inconsiderate by not determining the numbers involved in the package.”
Toby replied, “But you did not smack me with the fly like the bargain indicated on the spool.”
Heffler screamed, “This is not the way to go about petting your tortilla poodle!! You have to use masking tape and infiltrate the Russian book-keeper!! He will show you all about the damn crockery unless you want to stuff your pores with all that garbage like you did when we went to your cousin’s house and he was trying to jam a wax doll up his rectum!! You should know better than to call up Asia during the time you type the number seven!! It can cause the Bulgarian Buttermilk Police to curdle your brain!! It only takes five minutes to rectify taboo symbolism, you unholy camel who possesses the knowledge of demonic toothpaste!! I shall make an exorcism come into your nostrils and bake your toxic herbal system out of your infrared spy catchers!! Take it from me when I say I cannot condone your usage of anchovy paste on mousetraps, especially when nothing but bagels get caught and they bark like beagles!! Maybe you can take a walk and fly close to the airplane like you suggested on page ninety two when you went to graduate school and typed a frenzy while the nurse gave you a blow job!! She was just as imaginary as me but at least I come wearing cool clothes, you fucking asshole!! You cannot even put together a potato pie full of money and that’s what counts if you want to be robbed!! You make this restaurant a freaking coin machine of your punks who cause you harm when they scream at you when you walk along back roads!! You need a brown crayon to wipe away the grocery tears you’ve collected on your ancient journey towards Cairo when the stock market crashed into your lawn!! Pretty soon – and I mean this in the most ugly form of pretty as I can muster up – you cannot go just by my words, regardless of the dog who humps your leg!! You have to lick a cat’s stomach and add Drano to the megaphone because the fingers string me along until I can no longer do string tricks but the camera person told me otherwise and I had to harass him because he was such a stickler for perfect grammarian mammary circumspection… now look what you’ve made me do!! I have made a French excuse for a very German problem!! Just as long as you bang your nose against the marshmallow wall, I cannot be held libel for any lawyer type of action you have against my embezzlement techniques!! Just puff on this magic cigarette until you feel like you will disappear and that should scare the shit out of you but I told you before not to regard the bugs unless the bugs come to you first and then you can run the mile and make a runner for a song lyric with a razor in your fingernail but as long as it is made of gum you are okay!! My Italian mother told me this information and I will pass more along to you because you have bad springs in your mattress and you’ve never said hello to my advances so I cannot condone your heterosexuality, especially since I am also heterosexual and there cannot be two of us!! Hence, such is why I am your imaginary friend, even though some sources would say I am real and you are suffering from opposite-delusion but then no drugs could cure it so the pharmacies have to gain their share. Okay, maybe I have lingered and malingered too far but it is only out of love!!”
Toby took a deep breath. He expounded, “You little mega-rat who uses codes like a whore with red blood instead of lipstick and I wonder where those bones came from but ha ha I cannot do unless a run sentence mega pie my beef thing so hey it will be and gang of tree stump pick pocket handcuff vagina thing poof like it or not my little petting kitty with toilet paper long hair and black aura but you cannot make me sing to the tune of the drunken moose because the keyboard was born in a mood of senior artifice.”
Heffler said, “You have shown yourself once again to be the ultimate fool. You have said things that I cannot apologize for but I can dance to because of the swing method as taught by my schoolteacher. Okay, maybe everything is a window shade of gray and everybody belongs on a Nineteen Seventies album cover but that is because I am old enough to be your genealogy assistant. We need to go over the various records of your grandpa, even though he was last seen branding the head of a thimble. He had his own inward farm, you know. Nothing could take away his smile from him. You, of all people, should continue on your search for more normal family relatives. They do exist, as contrary to evidence as shown by conspiratorial people. Hey, now, I am not to blame for mentioning truths and all that has to do with all that have and all that has been things and all. So, here I go, in a caseload of inner dynamics meant to persuade people of insane natures to know of me. They have and all that ayou ro aro dnddfdfyou and that. You, of that you and you all that regard and all typing that cat hey you k never know. So it would be old computer jargon when I type and speak and. If it. So now. You know.”
Toby rubbed his hands together then said, “All of this becomes unusual in the sense of what you have been telling me about the house. Any criminal could bang his head with a bunch of reverberating bells and call it an electronic composition but you have taken the cake and eaten the barbecue sauce to boot as well as the Swedish equivalent of sausage that only makes its appearance in a hotel late at night. Now, if you must go prowling for eggshells, make sure they are from donkeys in the tambourine alley. So, I am not the only one who can say this stuff, even though right now I am talking and you are now but you are me because you are my imaginary friend but because you are imaginary that means I can pretend you do not exist and why am I talking like an English teacher? Now, I have to determine whether I am referring to grammar or Europe but that could be a new word if I ever look up patent laws. There can be heliotrope origins to the antebellum nightshade as invoked by neighbor X who peeped from under the floorboards from a best selling novel on tragedy even though I hate to capitalize on that stuff and no one should read about it but I have to type the unfortunate truth even if it is fiction but I did not publish the things so you cannot blame me for interest.”
Heffler laughed. “You of pop and bring your own doing and that you can be related from on the verge of a fancy tic and tree but on a balloon full of boats.”
Toby countered with, “In a sauce for your salsa dancing, if I am concerned.”
Heffler shook his fists. “You want craziness I’ll give you craziness you can contact me on your way to the bed before you do that things which that cannot be done but then you are that which are those things and all that and all you are but then your computer is having nervous abominations but you arher her herherherh.”
Toby smiled. “You have won the lemons.”
Heffler smirked. “This has become nothing but a clean opera for the indulgences to have a list so a newspaper can call upon a lot of writers to expound upon the exponents. Yet, how am I to cultivate a nation according to the dictums? I am but an imaginary friend and you will not proclaim responsibility for your actions.”
Toby said, “Maybe you just have to understand my ways.”
Heffler snorted. The world was turning into oatmeal. He could rarely stand his position as imaginary figure. Protest would come shortly. He stayed still, thinking random digital dots of topics. One of the solutions would prove handy. Representation could present itself in astronomical time if food was fixed and hands received soap. He could visualize tables and vouch for his ability to do so, regardless of Toby’s theory concerning the assessment of complexity. Toby would have to remember any number of collisions from the past, especially since Heffler tried to perfect aim. They were not in England , yet, and cradles were meant for screams. Spoons could be used for loud whacks on the head when visiting the hills during vacations. Certain views were antiquarian but sounded fine in antique shops. There were general filing systems significant with each department of thought. Heffler was accommodated by his turn at play. He would show Toby a bucket of blood and assume a puzzled response quickly from him. Finally, he knew strategy. He said, “I will sit on the floor and wait for you to turn into a zebra. You have never done such things but you cannot be held under oath for very long when the taco truck arrives.”
Toby snorted. “I know what you are doing. You are confusing me so I am no longer sure if you are a part of me or a part of yourself. I remember when I first met you and you convinced me of your dependence on my insanity. However, I can no longer admit to derangement, especially since the tangerines or tambourines come in pickle juices and taste better at twenty percent off the cover price. I checked at the newsstand and I was told to get out. I can be the same as you, except that I am not quite you because I am quite me, so my statement about you being like me is false. Now, I know I made a technical error in the grammar department but that is the way it goes. You ought to stop the problems.”
Heffler positioned himself on the ceiling. Toby was more confused and not sure if Heffler’s feet were on the ceiling or if a magic trick of metaphysics metamorphosed the feet and made them the head or if the head was not there from the beginning. Heffler was not sure, either. He was happy to confuse Toby even if confusion entered his thinking also. He said, “Maybe you can think about the people who left your restaurant. They are more interesting than I am. Suzie has always been a flake, going from each man like the human species is one big game. You know she has no intention to keep Gus, even if that intention counteracts the utmost intensity of his not escaping. As far as what Gus really feels, I am not sure. I reach the conclusion he does not know how he feels, either. Yet, Sally has an interest in him and that might prove intriguing later. Evelyn is consistent in that she has no real feelings other than those that she claims are real. Such a thing makes them real enough though reality is more like a game show on television as far as she is concerned. Still, you might want to go out and look for them.”
Toby sighed. “I am just going to go back in the main room and sit. If they come back, I will deal with them but I lack the energy to walk outside.”
Heffler nodded. “You are making a good rebuttal for an almost truthful statement. You could go outside but you choose to stay here. Your choice is final, however.”
Toby dismissed Heffler’s criticism. The choice was not final but he kept with it. He walked in the dining room, looking at a large group of people seated at a table and waiting for service. He sat down, pleased at the clientele. They would be happy he returned. Service was postponed. He closed his eyes. Someone said, “I would like to order the clam chowder.”
The customers would ruin his meditation if he replied directly. Toby said, “The site has grown in what urban fashion should look like. Technology insiders say that all three acts have tremendous energy.”
“I would also like a side order of the steamed broccoli. It’s good for my health.”
“Ruminations, musings and rapid-fire posts are making the two-and-a-half hour drive from his house. I try and get my books a month ahead of time once he knew what he had to do.”
“Does the tomato soup contain garlic? I want something spicy, as well.”
“Students can graduate with a bachelor’s degree on how to create positive romantic relationships. Scholarships for college can be as close as when I was in third grade.”
“Is bread extra or does it come with the meal?”
“With such a vast number of book selling, not to mention breathtaking views. One way the network plans to accomplish its goals but quickly learned her passion was making other people beautiful.”
The conversation continued in a blur. Toby must have said more things but he was thinking about Gus and Suzie. He would not have guessed what they were doing. Gus held his breath while Suzie exhaled. Both of them were combining and becoming a machine with opposing parts. Evelyn and Sally watched from behind bushes. All four were like two parts each within the already mentioned two parts, making a combination of four parts but really one whole. Gus asked, “What is the situation with you and Toby?”
Suzie shrugged. “If you must know, he is my real boyfriend but, as everyone assumes, people who are together don’t really communicate as accurately as people who find themselves together from whim. In that sense, you are my real boyfriend.”
Gus shook his head. “You’re cheating on him with me!”
Suzie giggled. “No. I’m cheating with nobody. Did you hear what I just told you? People who are really a couple communicate less accurately than those who are not. Since I told you a lie by saying Toby was my real boyfriend, that makes you my real boyfriend. If I told Toby the truth, he would be my fake boyfriend, but he is already.”
“So, are you telling me I’m your real boyfriend?”
“No. I told you that we don’t communicate accurately. In that sense, anything I tell you is wrong, even if I tell you the truth, because you’re my real boyfriend.”
Gus frowned. “Wait a minute! You’re contradicting yourself with everything you say! Who are you and who am I?”
Suzie grinned. “Are you asking in the sense of wanting identity?”
“No! Who am I in your life and who are you in my life?”
“Life is like candy. You don’t question, you just bite.”
Gus tried pulling his hand loose. “Life is like glue and you’re the sticky bunny who runs and makes me crazy! Are you doing this because your soap opera is not on? None of this makes sense.”
Suzie sighed. “You have to understand that life makes no sense. All we do is pretend to be knowledgeable. As to if we find answers, that is up to our moods.”
Gus wiggled his hand, hoping to free himself. He said, “This is like an atonal concerto and you’re like the wand with a mind of its own. You can’t honestly expect me to assume we are the number one song during summer months. I prefer winter and the coldness. These hot emotions ruin whatever effect I receive from coffee. I used to be a scholar until you freaked me out. Why can’t you open up an old poetry book and kiss the author’s portrait?”
“I’ll do that if you come with me and act jealous while my lips touch paper. Your hand feels like paper so I could probably kiss your hand and pretend you’re a paper author! I like that. I’m glad you thought of it.”
“You only say I thought of it because of how our energy is connecting. You must remember your diligence does not match my reticence. We are attached because of your spite. You have no cares about my future.”
Suzie nodded. “If that’s how you feel, you can leave.” She let go of Gus’ hand.
Gus ran off. As he did so, he said, “Haha! You believed me!”
Suzie screamed. She had not meant to let go of Gus. She did so mentally but physical parting was on accident. She meant to hold on forever, wondering about the possibility of separation as a source of humor. However, she stood still, keeping composure. Gus ran fast and could not be caught. Evelyn and Sally appeared from behind the bushes. They all hugged.
Evelyn said, “If you really think about it, something good will come of this. We’ve wanted to change your style for some time. If you come back to my place with Sally, we can get your sleeves off your elbows so you can take off the sweater. That is, if you are willing to let Sally change other things about your style. I care, also, but Sally has threatened me in regards to the spy books and I don’t want to chance results. If you let Sally take care of you, I’ll make sure to cook your favorite food.”
Suzie smiled. “Thanks. Yet, Toby’s food is not on my hunger menu.”
Evelyn shook her head. “No. I’m talking about my cooking you something. Yes, I will use Toby’s recipe even if you don’t want to try it but he won’t be in the room. I could sneak into the restaurant and make Heffler keep Toby occupied but I don’t know how real Heffler really is and I don’t like the color of the walls in Toby’s kitchen. So, I will prepare the meal on my own and you will eat it.”
Sally said, “I would have said the same thing except I don’t like to cook. Heffler is a better cook than I am and the only stuff he’s prepared are the toxic images in Toby’s head. I could do a better job of cooking than Evelyn cooks even though I never cook and Heffler cooks better than Toby even though Toby is the only one who cooks. But, Evelyn prepares good food and I’m sure you will like it.”
Suzie sighed. “I can’t think of anything more confusing than what has already confused me more than confusion itself. Okay, I’ll go with both of you but only because I’m curious as to if I can ever take off this sweater.”
Evelyn said, “If you agree to what will happen later, I can guarantee your sweater will come off.”
Suzie nodded. “Fine.”
Sally said, “Let’s go.” They walked off.
The Occasions Chapter Three: Discussing Possibilities

The three of them were at Evelyn’s house, discussing possibilities concerning the purification of Suzie’s style. She had apparently clogged her whereabouts with circumstance toxins and never assumed a need for exploring resolve. Sally searched for meanings within additional information. She said, “We ought to investigate the rural regions. There has to be a connection between what happened to you and the ability to harness solar power to produce fresh water from sea water.”
Suzie frowned. “I think it would be better if you stuck with the idea I’m an obsessive idiot. From what I heard, karma is real and is doing something to me. Maybe one of you holds karma in her pockets.”
Evelyn giggled. “You know I don’t do that. I’m sure Sally has preferred butter on her popcorn instead of chocolate. Neither of us lives in Oregon so we know nothing about birds. The time has come to concentrate on your sleeves.” She pulled at Suzie’s sleeves while they adhered strongly like elbow traps.
Sally shook her head. “I hate denial and will not let you goad me there. You have to consider reverse osmosis when you desalinate.”
Suzie yelled, “You’re not helping, Sally! Evelyn is grunting like a pig and working herself in a silly frenzy trying to free me from the prison of my clothes and you’re talking about some hick-town bean-curd scientific analysis! You’re just dodging the obvious.”
Sally smiled. “That won’t stop me. I have to translate what’s happening to you however I can. You have to give credit to islands and coastal communities for coming up with filters. When we solve codes, we make amends. You’ll be adorning that outfit until we figure everything out.”
Evelyn was concerned. Her procedure appeared incongruous with her goal. She would have to keep at what she started with Suzie even if doing so was pointless. Exercise noises went well with furniture coordination. She painted her house for something. Friends needed entertainment. Music would be next. If conversation were congestion, out would come the players. Nametags were passé. Speeches were written for one’s memory. She wanted Gus, also. If he chose a man, there would be trouble. She refused to assess whether infatuation was strongest from her or the others. Sally and Suzie would play the game.
Suzie understood suddenly Sally’s point and spoke in unison with her rival. She figured that Sally’s monotone drivel would work best in salad mixture. If they talked in harmony, words could mix in an alphabet unlike any routine stone tablet. They both said, “I like but hey your pizza and all but hey stop you know better no I don’t it can come back to you poetry and all news room man speaking from inner imbalance it can cause flowers to hold death faces shut up geek you know no circus come to me sex me up you crotch based recipe is no way I had Gus first you didn't what the hell we start talking for is this the recipe for any old soup or are you changing the no I'm not subject hey can it will you unless but the prescription if you please can cost me a bundle in time allowed."
Evelyn had a better idea. She suggested something strange but obvious. She said, “I sense a spiritual discord where your energies conflict like spit landing on a mirror. You do not want to rub the glass but I digress. Sally has an obsession with her tucked-in sweater. She claims sweaters are merely shirts with thicker material and I disagree according to studies conducted on the phone. Anyway, there is a knowledge beyond mere material and I will be the sleuth. Suzie likes her sleeves pushed up. I would say Sally has the better of the two fashion choices if I liked Sally in that way but our spy-book fellowship is confidential. If Sally un-tucked her sweater, such could cause Suzie’s sleeves to no longer stick. I would not have any kind of logical or reasonable standpoint for my argument but I must press the issue on account of my false desire to see Sally baby chuck off those goods and give me a little warm cha-cha!”
Sally smiled. “I knew you would transcend. You like what you see. My pants are not spotted and my shirt is not a black turtleneck but you get the idea.”
Suzie said, “Evelyn, you should pull Sally’s sweater out of her pants.”
Sally yelled. “That would not work. You’d be trying to mess up the obvious! You should not understand things that cause people to think of things that have bad ends! I am a good girl who can dance the salsa while my sweater smoothes and tightens when I stretch and bend down.”
Evelyn laughed and ran to Sally. There had to be revenge. Numbers were too precise when added. Warfare need not be gradual. Sally’s saddle was too much in place. Her knighthood was not of nobility. Look out Sally, here comes the pincher crab with intent to poke and yank. The cartoon streak would become blurry as one followed the other in rapid design. A plan was made. Platitudes would be dismissed. After several minutes, the specimen was caught. Sally lay down on the floor, anchoring her sweater so it could not come out while Evelyn pulled and screamed.
Suzie laughed hysterically. She said, “Your entire concept of the United States will be smashed. You have anguished self-weightings. Evelyn has exchanged greetings with you. She won’t discredit the company you represent.”
Evelyn cried, feeling pangs of failure as Sally radiated a glow of contentment. Again, the winner was clear. Evelyn got up and so did Sally. Suzie stopped laughing and said, “Let’s listen in on Gus.”
Evelyn said, “We can’t. It’s your fault for letting go of him even though it’s better than if you held on because too many flavors spoil the sandwich and I’m afraid the variety of similar feelings we all share for him would work like burning spices on his thought processes.”
Suzie shook her head. “You’re wrong. I made a button that transmits frequencies and I put it in Gus’ hair when he was trying to avoid me by looking at the sky. His hair is always uncombed and dirty so he’ll never find it among the other pieces of junk in his storage area.” She took out a small object looking like a metal lighter. She shook it like a box of popcorn and out came sound.
They could hear Gus. He was walking with Herb. Somehow, Herb sensed where Gus roamed. The area was not specific. They could have been anywhere. Herb was in a philosophical mood. He said, “You know, everything can be defined on factors such as plant structures. Look at each person and the diversity of fauna.”
Gus walked faster. He said, “You’ve been following me for years and I just didn’t know it. If I run fast enough, you’ll disappear.”
Herb had a spool of tape in his hand. He broke off pieces and put them on the back of Gus’ pants for advertisement purposes. A stranger could be investigating price tags and need to delve into subterfuge techniques like ants on honey. Each inch of denim was covered by a facetious family name on account of the particular region of stickiness. Gus would be the honorable chair with open arms and an investment-oriented button upholstered and ready for owners of Parisian apartments. The fellow was way too macho for his own good and pretended to be a trucker. Screw that. He needed professional help. A male nurse was best. A deputy sheriff would suffice. The strategy would work best from across the street but there was no time for plans. Conventional means were necessary. One could stay calm while the other got angry. Healthy foods could be given on occasion. A telescope would be used in looking at his house. Garden and yard supplies would come in handy. Of course, a series of educational publications had to be distributed. Government agencies could help. Surfaces needed to be washed. Damaged paint could only do so much. However, Gus would decode the mystery in time and that would ruin the future. Nonprofit management certificate programs were the alternative roads. As long as chemical dependency was involved, everything would be fine. National coalitions could intervene and make new symbols. Appointment confirmation would be next. If the creep could slow down, conversation would continue normally. Herb grabbed Gus’ elbow. They stood still.
Herb stared and said, “You are arctic, boreal, temperate, subtropical, tropical, humid, semi-humid, semi-arid and increasing elevation.”
Gus shook his head. “You must have spiked my coffee.”
Herb was suspicious. “You were the one who designed a bulk carrier. The hull had to be inspected. The American composer met with you. You were replaced.”
Gus yanked his arm away and ran. Herb followed. Gus yelled, “You can’t catch me!”
Herb laughed. “Movement of the wings is mathematically congruent to the relation of the aircraft. I know a British word. You are both large and tiny.”
Gus lowered his voice and slowed the pace. He said, “If I keep this up, I will become a dead clock and you will vanish.”
Herb smiled. “You are very light-sensitive. You have multiple cells. Colors appear quite intense. You should look at the outer segment.”
Gus was furious. He ran faster until Herb could not be seen. He ran until the structure of the polymer separated from the reality outside of fantasy’s cell walls. Yes, Herb was fungus associated facetiously by dairy products and grains of wheat. However, Gus refused to be a part of the recipe. He had specific functions and nuisance absorption was not one of them. Herb acted like a constricting ring and adhesive net. No hypha was going to extend into an establishment from the corporation headquarters of Gus’ brain. He would use a tongue scraper on his feet in order to rub away the negative energy associated with the mind bubbles forming like phantoms. He would live in the Northern Temperate Zone or the Antarctic Circle , depending on which location was easiest to scope by go-cart. Herb would have to live in Sweden or Canada and perhaps would live in both countries because of his ability to extend himself and become other people. Herb’s motto could be: “To thy own self be few.” Yet, now was not the time for such mental ramifications. Gus needed to head towards the light of the sun until he reached his garden where he would receive an award for dancing. He would use pieces of meat and dog toys and roll around in mud until resembling an eggbeater. His friends would be wearing banana skins and making flags. The new area would be known as “ Not Herb Land .” Evelyn, Sally and Suzie would be invited. They were women and such was good. He was not aware of their listening in on his racing footsteps. If they could not be around him physically at the moment, they could join him in spirit and espionage.
Evelyn asked, “Have you heard of the Vinegar Dog?”
Sally frowned. “What does that have to do with Gus?”
Evelyn smiled. “Well, they call it the Vinegar Dog in Brazil but it’s also known as the Bush Dog. It has soft long brownish-tan fur, with a lighter reddish tinge on the head, just like Gus. Have you ever noticed how Gus screams? His teeth have a unicuspid talonid on the lower carnassial molar that increases the cutting blade length.”
Sally shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and you don’t either. Gus has more of a paper-thin body like the best burnt-out homeless hippies. I think he’s rich and he hides his money by hitchhiking when he has a perfectly reliable van. I saw him once sitting by the ocean and he told himself not to speak out loud which was a contradiction because that was what he was doing. Anyway, he told himself not to speak out loud because of the waves of green energy emanating from the water. He heard the geese and saw breadcrumbs floating on the water and had the idea he could be a rock star. Well, maybe I did not really see him there but I’m pretending. Can anybody else think of a pretend image of Gus? He’s so cool. None of us know anything about him.”
Evelyn said, “I already made something up. I can also say that he originates from the Algonquin language and he’s been stitched together. He looks like an ornament and had a rocky look to him before there were cactuses. Maybe we can have a compromise, Sally. For every pretend thing we can think of about Gus, you take off a piece of clothing.”
Sally thought for a moment. Her clothes were part of a secret code with no real solution. She was wearing many layers and each piece indicated a certain psychological significance. Her sweater was not really worn tucked in for its own sake but serving as the protective layer to the shirt underneath it so the shirt would stay tucked in and keeping the shirt underneath that one tucked in as well. Some of the layers represented her pilgrimage to Guatemala where she bought her first hat. Another bunch of layers was worn when a past boyfriend complimented her on certain costumes. If she did not look exactly twig thin, she escaped the appearance of plump by way of sucking in the gut. Also, Suzie was wearing a jacket-like sweater and looked not slimmer than Sally so the both of them appeared equal. However, Evelyn and Suzie would show curiosity to Sally’s clothing removal and such an idea made a boring afternoon turn lively. Sally said, “I will comply if only to show you I can do such a thing. The clothes will be pants, though.”
Suzie shook her head. “No. You have to take off your sweaters and shirts. I don’t know how many layers you have on but you certainly are revealing many colors towards the neck area. Your reluctance to take off your clothes could be causing a metaphysical oppression keeping me from taking off my sweater.”
Sally smiled. She was willing to take off her sweaters and shirts but wanted to test her friends’ patience. However, if she had proceeded to take off pants only, there were still enough layers to keep everyone fascinated. All of her tops were tucked in to the very last layer of pants so the fun would be equal to sweater-and-shirt removal. She would comply but wanted to make one more comment. “You’d like it better if I took off the pants.”
Suzie said, “I am not a boy. I would not like it better.”
Sally nodded. “Okay. Here is the situation. I will wait until one of you says something about Gus and then I will take off one of my tops. I won’t make up any pretend things. I’ll have enough going on anyway. Okay?”
Evelyn said, “Okay. I will go first.”
Suzie said, “I prefer to go first.”
Evelyn said, “Okay. I will come up with the first thing and you can pretend you went first. Gus was named after an unused candy bar containing ingredients that made it illegal.”
Sally grabbed at the waist area where her sweater was tucked in. She pulled hard for approximately thirty seconds until it came out slowly but surely. She had no idea how long it had stayed in there where ossification had occurred. She took the sweater off and now was wearing a green long-sleeved button shirt. The shirt looked even tighter than the sweater, as if each layer would be more – instead of less – difficult to remove. She swayed from side to side like a soul singer. She said, “Okay. Thank you Suzie even though you’re actually Evelyn but Suzie pretended to be first so I’m reversing the names so next is Evelyn even though it’s actually Suzie so here you go Suzie.”
Suzie nodded. “I can come up with something great. Have you ever hiked on a mountain top where goats graze and alligators hide in the water? Well, imagine you eating trail mix and hoping to find a white castle serving doughnuts and ice cream close to some blackberry vines and a gate to another dimension. Perhaps there will be a brown bag on the ground, looking inconspicuous and trying not to be noticed. Gus would not be the bag itself but the fellow who noticed the bag and put it with the rest of his collection, alongside footwear and nose rings.”
Sally pulled at her shirt and grunted. After a minute, most of it came out but one small corner remained tucked. She kept pulling until the material ripped free, leaving the tucked corner still inside the pants but allowing her to take off the shirt. Now, she was wearing a white long-sleeved T-shirt, looking as though it would be more difficult to remove than the button shirt. She said, “That’s going to happen more and more but don’t worry. Keep thinking of things.”
Evelyn nodded. “I’m glad to see you struggle, Sally. Here is my idea. Gus was first a part of some fairy tale nonsense and came out of the book and turned into a monster before a fairy came and turned him into a handsome prince. However, the handsome prince was being propositioned by men and he didn't like that so he asked the fairy to turn him into a woman because he figured he would enjoy being propositioned by women better even though he’d be a woman and not like it. The fairy refused so the handsome prince got angry and forgot to bathe and that’s who he is now.”
Sally pulled at the T-shirt but it would not come out. She went to a desk, opened up a drawer and took out a pair of scissors. She cut the T-shirt at the waistline and took it off. She was now wearing a thick gray wool sweater that would ordinarily look ridiculous tucked in but Sally’s figure was coming back so the sweater was attractive on her. She said, “I forgot about this one. I was wearing this back in college and forgot where I put it. Now I know. Doing this is like looking through a closet of memories.”
Suzie smiled. “I don’t care about such trivia. I just want to see you sweat and worry. Anyway, here is my idea. I stole the idea from someone else. I can’t remember whom I stole it from because he stole it from someone before him. Actually, I’m just kidding about that. I thought of it on my own. Anyway, I bought some CDs yesterday in the dollar section where they keep the miscellaneous goods. I saw a bunch of stupid weird movie soundtracks from films that were never in the theaters and never made it to video. One of the soundtracks included songs that were not in the movie but, then again, I couldn’t tell for sure because I never saw it. Anyway, I looked up where the song was first played and the guy who sang it first did it on stage at one of the folk festivals. There was only one person in the audience and that person was Gus. He was on so much acid, he thought he was the performer and the fellow with the guitar was mimicking his act.”
Sally clapped her hands. “That was a good one.” She pulled at the sweater and it came out with no problem. She was puzzled. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “I thought it would be more troublesome than that. Well, I guess surprises happen.” She was now wearing a short-sleeved red T-shirt. The T-shirt was tucked in and seemed tight but Sally figured looks could be deceiving. However, as long as the shirt did not fly out of her pants on its own, she would not care. Then, she realized that Evelyn was also wearing something tucked-in and said, “I notice you have not taken off any layers. Perhaps you might want to take off your striped top, my dear, unless you want me to grab your finger which is something I want to do.”
Evelyn looked at her waistline, remembering the low-hip appearance of the pants. She was nervous. She said, “I would take it off but I don’t have any layers underneath this and my shirt wouldn’t look good if I wore it loose. I’m as fanatical about my appearance as you, Sally, even if I’m not as fanatical as you are about it. If you know what I mean, that’s good.”
Sally said, “Well, if that’s the case, I’d prefer you leave your shirt tucked in because I’d hate to see you wearing anything un-tucked.”
Evelyn frowned. “You know I wouldn’t do that but, if I did prefer to pull it out and wear it that way, I could do it. I would be doing something similar to what you’re doing except you’d have layers underneath and you keep taking off the un-tucked things. I wouldn’t have anything on underneath so I would be wearing it loose."
Sally nodded. “I know but I’m still glad you won’t do that because, even though I give you permission to wear something however you want, I would not let you do that. Well, technically I would allow it but I would stop you before you started. I wouldn’t exactly stop you physically but I would use torment to make you feel guilty so you wouldn’t do it.”
Evelyn smiled. “I’m glad for your support and I would be happy if you did that but, if we are to speak purely on democratic terms, I do have the right to do whatever I want. Not that I would un-tuck my shirt because I never would but I do feel I would have the right to do so if I wished.”
Sally shook her head. “Not really. Yes, we do all have rights and your rights belong to you but I would stop you before you un-tucked it. Of course, we shouldn’t even be having this discussion because you’ll never do it but, if you did, I would handcuff you before you started so you wouldn’t do it and then I would grab your finger. I’m starting to read all kinds of porn stuff and I can imagine doing a lot of things to you even though I don’t like you in that way and would never do them.”
Evelyn shrugged. “Okay. You stole that porn stuff from me! Anyway, even if you did handcuff me and did things to me that you wouldn’t do, I wouldn’t care even though I would care because I’m not that way but if you did do those things to me I would care even though I wouldn’t care. However, since I have the rights to determine how I wear my shirts, you wouldn’t be able to tell me to un-tuck it because I wouldn’t even though I would have the right to un-tuck it if I chose.”
Suzie smiled. “I enjoy hearing this conversation.”
Sally nodded. “Thanks. Anyway, Evelyn, you know that I wouldn’t do stuff to you that would be done to you even though I would like but I wouldn’t like it because I’m not that way but I would not let you un-tuck your shirt even though it would be un-tucked if you did un-tuck it but I wouldn’t like it and I wouldn’t let you like it even though I’m not that way and it would be not done to like you in that way if you did it.”
Evelyn frowned. “You know I would not like if I un-tucked it and never would and would never allow you to do it to me even though I would like it and not like it and un-tucked it but I would not and you would and allow and me to and do and to me to do it and I like it would not to like it and do me and allow you do me and you would not like it.”
Sally shook her fist. “You are the like and it if you are do it un-tucked and if you are the liking of it and if I did do the porn to you but I don’t like it you are if you are the like and I un-tucked it for you if you like it would not let you do it and it to me like don’t you it un-tucked you liking don’t it to and you and you are not to like it and I am angry because I but it like don’t if you did if I would if not if let you do it and you liking it to me like and not let you do it and like you don’t remember what I told you about the porn stuff you did like it.”
Evelyn laughed. “Like I am are you to un-tucked not let me the porn if I would to did you am because angry I but it is not up to you like if you are want to be that way but not if you and all the way and I did not let you do the porn to me allow it and liked it un-tuck angry I and happy but jumping up and down in a purple way but you are the shaking of fist fingers lock ring and all that stuff I can help it but unt-ucked it porn it was do it to me.”
Suzie said, “I wonder what Gus would think if he heard what you two are talking about.”
Evelyn and Sally kept quiet. They realized finally how idiotic they sounded. Perhaps Gus found out about the object in his hair and sent vibrations by way of antenna. He must have controlled their voices. They were not sure they wanted him to play leader. As far as they were concerned, Gus was not as crazy as he acted. According to one history report, there was a Gus who returned to Newton County and worked in a parachute factory during the war. He traveled to Red River and joined a group of southern refugees. He bought staples like sugar, coffee, tea, lard and flour and gave everything to his crew. His father went by the name of Henry instead of John. He was a clerk and built his first school in Kansas . He was born in Oklahoma . He bought property and owned three houses. He was then appointed Executive Secretary. If such information pertained to him, he was really an undercover agent. He was fooling everyone by using subliminal techniques to lure him in his trap. However, he was handsome in his own dirty way and could afford to belittle his followers with sacks of beans and rice. He was probably responsible for making the object. Suzie wondered whether he was her friend from grammar school. She had no male friend back then so he was probably a female. That would explain why Herb liked him and Toby was jealous. She intuited Toby’s feelings from Heffler. Word was not clear on if she or Toby first imagined the fellow. Heffler had a tendency to fool those who imagined him. He could fool Gus if anyone was able to do so. Heffler was making an appointment with a psychiatrist. He called himself Toby while making the appointment because no one would know the difference. Toby would not show up for the meeting but Heffler would be punctual. As long as the bill was paid, names were unimportant. Heffler was sitting inside of Toby’s mind because the acorn tree proved uncomfortable. Toby would have to pick him out with his finger if he wanted to be free of the fool. Heffler was content. Toby was approaching Gus. He would call himself Heffler if Gus asked his name but if Gus did not ask about names, he would go by Toby. Gus managed to get rid of Herb somehow and would now have to deal with a new companion. He wanted solitude.
Toby approached Gus, putting his arm around his friend’s shoulders. Toby said, “Hello young citizen. I have news for you. Did you know that you can provide bank information and the date you want for the balance due to be withdrawn from your account? It is as easy as paying your personal income taxes.”
Gus ran faster, getting free of Toby’s embrace. Gus asked, “You’re the fellow from the restaurant, correct? What is your name?”
Toby said, “My name is Toby but my friend is Heffler.”
Heffler walked behind Toby. He said, “That is correct. You can’t see me but I am here.”
Gus looked behind him. “What do you mean? I can see you clearly.”
Toby laughed. “Yes, you see me but you don’t see Heffler.”
Heffler yelled, “Tell him to go to downtown Manhattan ! When people think of an exercise person, they think of him!”
Gus asked, “Who is ‘him’? Who are you talking to? I’m confused.”
Heffler said, “Of course he’s confused. He doesn’t even know whom I’m talking about. He’s a complete butt-wipe and needs to get his ass kicked.”
Toby said, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Gus stopped walking. “Wait a minute. Are you talking about me or someone else?”
Toby said, “Yes, I’d like to know who you’re talking about, also.”
Heffler said, “The two of you are as confused as me. I’d like to know who you are talking to, also.”
Gus nodded. “Yes. I can see you’re confused but he is even more confused.”
Toby was nervous. “Wait a minute. Can you see him?”
Gus said, “I see him and I see you.”
Toby nodded. “So, you admit that you see him and me.”
Gus said, “I admit that whoever you are and whoever ‘he’ is, whether he is you or someone else, and whether or not I am me or someone else and whether or not any of us are who we are or who you are, I see everyone.”
Toby was confused but he said, “I understand. By the way, I have some news for you. If you fail to pay your total tax liability, you will incur a late payment penalty plus interest. If you do not receive your taxable income evenly during the year, it may be to your advantage to annualize your income. I figured you would benefit from the information. I am your personal tax consultant.”
Heffler said, “Don’t listen to a word he says. A muted palette lets me get away with many things. I have resources for many favorite pastimes.”
Gus said, “I have no idea who you are and I’m sure ‘he’ is not my tax consultant.”
Toby said, “I am your tax consultant.”
Gus said, “I’m sure ‘he’ is.”
Heffler laughed. “That’s the way to do it! Make him pay!”
Gus walked away. Toby stood in position, not sure what he would do. Heffler disappeared. Gus was determined to find the women again. Sally showed curiosity. He figured he knew where they were. They appeared everywhere. He kept walking, looking forward to spending time with Sally. Suzie would scream and Evelyn would frown but that was no big deal. He missed the chaos. They were apparently controlling him but he preferred that. Somehow, they knew he was coming. Sally was looking forward to a game of bowling with him. She would hold on to him in her way. She would not be against holding the hands of two men in her one in a parallel to how her many shirts were tucked in to one pair of pants even though there were multiple pants on top. Her ego and persistence would be like separate mental hands on top of her physical one, holding on to Gus and Toby as well as whoever else was available. However, she would settle for just Gus if he were the limit. She would make him normal and they would do regular things as a couple while she insulted him and made him rub popcorn all over his body. He would remove the box of garbage bags from the corner by the wall and clean the computer terminal with a rag and soap. Next, the electric sockets would be painted and the chemical detergents would be labeled. She would introduce him to the stray dog up the street and make him drink the dregs of hard liquor from empty bottles. He would learn to love her and order extra anchovies. They would walk by the lake and sniff mustard. Everything would be wonderful
Sally said, “When Gus arrives, I want all of us to stay quiet so I can talk to him.”
Suzie nodded. “Yes. I can agree to that except the both of you will stay quiet while I talk to him.”
Evelyn sighed. “Why don’t we all stay quiet so we can all talk to him?”
Sally asked, “Why don’t you just relax and wait until he comes? I’m sure he will find out where we live just by his ability to figure out things on his own without help from anyone. You know how that can be. Crazy people have good sense. That’s why he likes us.”
Evelyn shook her head. “I really never thought he liked us. I thought we liked him, whether we did or not. When he comes over, we’ll argue and pretend we feel the same way for him even though we won’t be pretending.”
Suzie said, “I’d like to know which one of us likes him. I think it’s me.”
Sally nodded. “I know you think that. He will come soon. If not, we’ll pretend he does but we will do something, anyhow. Let’s listen to some music and dance.”
Evelyn, Sally and Suzie danced, humming separate tunes in different keys. They knew Gus would arrive. He was that kind of guy.


The Occasions Chapter Four: Welcome To The Park

Gus walked towards one house. He was concerned with avoiding excess. Each house was wrong but one would be chosen. He had yet to know who inhabited the place but he assumed the person was mischievous. He preferred to avoid going anywhere but realized that his standing still resulted in existence at a specific inch of area so he panicked. A pebble sat on the sidewalk and soothed him. He refused to hold it on account of his conscience. Nothing should be out of place. He was concerned with the microscopic study of diseased tissue and did not want to catch germs so he jumped up and down, respecting the sidewalk pebble. Minerals were fixatives and preservatives of soil. Time made too many mistakes without his inward vote to fix the world’s condition. The wind was like a patient currently undergoing surgery with a spirit invading valleys, hoping to appease the population. Gus jerked his body with grotesque motions while staring at the rock. He would cause a cooling of tension. Baby pebble would bring news to mama pebble and everything would be correct. His dance would work to bio-chemically stabilize the planet with each hideous split-second of body play. However, the house owner might film him so he had to hurry and finish his ritual before the cameras arrived. If he moved fast enough, he could stain the electrons with messages indicating he was someone other than himself. He would try turning into several types of people. As he jerked his head around jackhammer-style, he imagined his body becoming pink fibers resting on tulips and befriending rabbits. Everyone else suffered from dilemmas caused by purple granules. He was lucky to escape fate. His next movement incurred rolling on the ground. Suddenly, he heard a voice asking, “Are you making pizza?”
Gus stood up and saw Evelyn standing there. He was embarrassed and said, “I was just demonstrating iron deposits. Individual silver grains are in the film and cannot be returned unless I have a time for yesterday but I need to make an appointment for tomorrow. You can forget you saw me here and you can forget you are you because it will be easier to make everything stop. I hope I explained. The things are there.”
Evelyn smiled. “You have come back. We are proving something to you. Come in.” She walked in the house.
Gus followed her. He had to think of bright orange puppies and light blue crocodiles so he could relax. He entered the house and asked, “What are all these plants, fungi and microorganisms doing here?”
Evelyn nodded. “You’re talking about the television and the kitchen sink and my pet cat.”
Gus screamed. “No, I’m not! Look at that! It’s shrinking and changing colors in different tissue types and alterations of the structures in the water flow!”
Evelyn laughed. “That’s my cat. His name is Bean. You can pet him.”
Gus was nervous. “I will not. I only pet things I have seen before on this earth.”
Evelyn pointed to her friends. “You remember Sally and Suzie.”
Sally made her move. She walked towards him, grabbed his hand and said, “Come on, Gus.” She pulled him outside.
Gus said, “I guess.” They walked through town. She held his hand. He ignored her as much as possible. Her perfume smelled of archaeology and traveled through realms of knowledge. A list of books came to mind. Many thoughts were returning. She squeezed his hand, waking him from hypnosis. He was both frightened and thrilled.
Sally said, “I will spit on you if you don’t behave. I believe in tender love with no restrictions. I shall make you scrub the floor with your tongue. I am your fairy angel who will protect you from harm. I carry a knife in my pocket. I will shelter you from any of life’s storms. You will be whipped. I will hurt those who hurt you.”
Gus cared nothing of words. Her soft touch lulled him towards stupor until a squeeze brought him back to mainland. She was blending various oils through physical psychology, allowing him and her to travel from Franklin Avenue to Italy , then Switzerland and returning to Danny’s Truck-Stop Diner. He would bring her to apartments and laboratories, studying ways of the Renaissance period and mimicking French culture. He was not sure what was real and switched repeatedly from confused to content. He said, “This has all been a part… The wheel has moved toward… One part of consciousness leaves and another returns… Maybe you can explain.”
Sally would oblige. Her plan was successful. She concentrated on a certain percentage of interactions and dominated the outcome. The vat containing white ecstasy pudding would be sprinkled with black candy nightmare chips, providing a more accurate version of the combinative forces of truth and farce. There was no complete objective or final process. Gus would have to bypass conclusions. She said, “We are classified by anything in and of itself but we are forming new methods in a scheme meant to put all others to shame. We are newness surrounding all other types of migratory action and you shall look at my tight red T-shirt and me and you’ll think back to your childhood when the girls teased you while wearing bikinis. You were on the beach in Los Angeles , going through video-game withdrawal and you escaped persecution from a sadistic cop who thought you were a dog without a home. I remember you, Gus. You were in my dreams. We were holding hands, walking all the way throughout the whole city and you stopped to light a cigarette. I gave you an apple and you were satisfied.”
Gus frowned. “What are you talking about? You were not in any of the dreams I care to discuss!”
Sally squeezed his hand tighter and ran, pulling him with her and laughing. She said, “I’m bringing you to a secret group of men who hide in the park and count pieces of litter. Don’t worry, though. They belong to nature and only use chastisement to counteract the vicious cycles of pollution in the world. They are known as the Blossom Boys.”
Gus thought they would keep running through paths of improvisation where sights and sounds blurred into compounds of inexact images with no solidity. Finally, they reached an area matching that description. The place was called Coriander Park and smelled like lemons and tires. Four men were standing at attention as if expecting company. Upon seeing Sally, they relaxed as best they could by twisting and turning various body parts almost like contortionists. One fellow picked up a banjo and can of lard. He greased the strings, paying homage to delicatessens. He approached the couple then pressed the banjo to Gus’ body, moving the instrument up and down, causing the strings to buff Gus and make him shine. Gus was frightened but accepted the bath. After five minutes, the man stopped polishing and said, “You have gone through the initiation. Now is the time for us to do what we want with you, as we will. My name is Apple Frank. I am the leader.” Apple Frank had on dark sunglasses, a black leather jacket, purple gym shorts and yellow shoes shaped like ducks. He looked as though he wanted people to laugh at him so he could beat them up.
Gus had doubts about Sally’s choice of acquaintances. He said, “What an interesting time I’m probably having.”
Apple Frank yelled, “Shut up, fool! We bless you and welcome you! This is the age of metamorphosis. Cosmic cleanliness is at risk of becoming a rinse cycle in the washing machine of industry. We are the Blossom Boys. Everywhere is our home but we live nowhere. Do you think we appreciate the way our lakes and trees have to endure the energy from tabloids and argumentative discussions? You’re an idiot! That’s why I greased you with my banjo. Music is a form of battle and I created a disturbance to your chakras by adding on to the unholy trinity between animal byproducts, Appalachian mythology and that ugly stuff you call your skin. Now, excuse me while I resolve an issue.” He walked towards a blackberry bush and pulled out a vine, rubbing a thorny stem up and down his arm, faster and faster. He pressed continually harder, making cuts appear. He was bleeding. He said, “I detoxify myself from negative energy by committing an alternative transcontinental act of treason against the brothers of capitalism. This blackberry vine will rip me open until everything that is a part of me will spill out and cool the heated concerns of our planet! May my blood be one with the dirty pavement, trickling its way towards the natural ground where it can bring fulfillment and erase radio waves! Ha ha ha ha!” He laughed hysterically while administering more pain to himself.
Another fellow ran and grabbed the blackberry vine away from Apple Frank. He was wearing a cropped T-shirt with kaleidoscopic colors on it. He was also wearing masking tape to cover his privates. He said, “Enough! You have to buy the beer in an hour.”
Apple Frank nodded. “That’s right. Thank you.”
The second man was holding jockey briefs in his hand. He waved to Gus and Sally. “Hello. My name is Grapefruit Jerry. I like to eat my underwear.” He chewed on his jockey briefs, intending to rip off a piece so he could swallow it.
Sally squeezed Gus’ hand tighter. She was aroused watching Grapefruit Jerry during dinnertime. Gus watched the way Sally’s T-shirt wrinkled tightly as she tensed up from excitement. He realized she was no longer wearing the sweater and figured she changed her outfit to please him. As long as he focused on her clothes, he would not panic. Sally said, “Gus likes me. I’m wearing my shirt tucked in and that excites him but I’m wearing it that way for my own reasons so I want all of you to tame Gus and distract him.”
A third man walked slowly towards them. He was wearing a white toga with black polka dots. He said, “I would be happy to tame him. My name, by the way, is Ginger Timothy.”
Gus would have tried letting go of Sally’s hand if he had not already tried similarly with Evelyn and Suzie without any success. Also, her skin felt nice and he needed comfort. Ginger Timothy licked Gus’ face. Gus tried running away but could not escape. His own mental conditioning told him to stay with Sally. He was going through a process that went from his first two female shadows towards the more desirable moment. Sally was apparently many contradictions housed inside a Florentine flask. The raw material of her technique could bridge the gap between attraction and repulsion. She could become a political candidate by spraying ethanol throughout the city. People would get used to her volatile rules. The Blossom Boys must have been a part of her campaign. They could be part of many industries ranging from the luxury good sectors, food services industries, to manufacturers of various household chemicals. They had certain concepts. However, Gus wanted not to feel a tongue on his face. He said, “Get the hell away from me!”
Ginger Timothy nodded and backed off. He said, “My type of teasing would work well in department stores where it could sell for twenty percent less than the price of my competitors. If I was able to fondle you, Gus, you would like it.”
Sally giggled. “I want you to fondle him.”
Gus yelled, “Shut up, Sally!”
Sally was delighted. She could not remember hearing Gus mention her name earlier. Scientific evidence was showing how common ingredients could become synthetic if a catalyst disrupted the balance of hormones. Gus was probably already suffering from skin irritation but the long-term effects on human health, as well as the environment, were yet to be seen. Her behavior was not regulated for safety and her gland odors could contain difficult or overpowering scents. She decided to allow Gus to have his temper tantrum. She said, “I apologize, sweetie. You are one hundred percent real man and should not be ridiculed.”
The fourth member of the Blossom Boys ran towards Gus. He was wearing a yellow business jacket and light-green button shirt with a brown tie and red pants with no shoes or socks. He asked, “Did I hear correctly? Are you telling me Gus is a real man and not made of leaves or twigs? He does not have any resins or roots? There are no rhizomes or bulbs or seeds? His arms are not called woods? He does not smell of ambergris or castoreum or civet or honeycomb or musk? His hair is not made of lichens or seaweed? His fingers are not orchids?”
Gus was intrigued. “How do you know I am not made of those things? How could you come up with such brilliant deductions?”
The man smiled. “My name is Citrus George. I know nothing. I make up things as I go along. I shall make you up as I go along.”
Gus smiled. “I like this guy!”
Citrus George asked, “What guy do you like?”
Gus said, “I’m referring to you.”
Citrus George was puzzled. “What do you mean when you say you are referring to me?”
Gus answered, “I mean that you were asking who I had meant and I said I meant you.”
“However, that is not exactly clear. You could have referred to someone else. Now, when you say you are talking about me, what does that mean?”
“It means I am only talking about you. Yes, there are others close to your proximity but they are not near you and I am not talking to any of them. I am looking at you and talking just to you.”
“Again, you are not totally clear. What do you mean when you say you are talking to just me?”
“I am not using the word ‘just’ in the sense of ‘honesty’. I am using the word ‘just’ as in the sense of ‘only.’ I appreciate your wanting everything to be specific. It shows intelligence.”
“I cannot understand. You are not specific. You say you are using a word in a certain way. What does that mean?”
“It means that words can have two meanings and I am using one meaning. Sometimes, a person can use both meanings of a word if the word is used in various parts of the conversation but I was not using the word in any other part of the conversation. I was using just one meaning of the word.”
“That is not clear. What do you mean when you say you are using words?”
“I mean that I’m making use of words because they come in handy. I don’t mean that I’m whoring words or taking advantage of them. I am using words because I am talking to you. When I am talking to you now, I am using words. When you hear my voice, you hear words. My words are the things that come out of my mouth.”
“What do you mean when you say things come out of your mouth?”
“That is not a physical thing. Words do not actually have physical forms unless they are made with peanut butter or a similar dough-like ingredient. Words are sounds so, in a sense, they have a physical entity in audio format but I am referring to how I am just using sounds. You are hearing words, right now.”
“What are you talking about when you use the phrase ‘right now’?”
“Okay. I use the phrase ‘right now’ not in the political sense as in the political left now or the political right now. I am using the word ‘right’ in the sense of us being of the moment. We are here ‘right now.’ We are not making anything right. We are just here right now.”
“What do you mean when you say we are here?”
“That one is tricky. ‘Here’ can be anywhere. We are physically here but anyone on a phone can refer to ‘here’ as the place where they are standing when making the phone call. So, here can be anywhere but people only call it ‘here.’ ‘We’ can also mean anything. A magazine journalist can refer to ‘we’ in the editorial sense because he is representing the publication even though he is the sole author of the article. He could have had influence to write it from the other members of the staff of the magazine but the final say is his. Well, the editor can change anything with his pen but that’s another story. Anyway, ‘we’ means whoever is a part of the crowd. You and me are ‘we.’”
Citrus George smiled. “Thank you for explaining these things. I have twenty more questions to ask you.”
Sally sighed. “I’ve had enough of them and so have you. Come on.” She pulled Gus with her. They walked towards another area of the park and sat down. She was squeezing his hand tight. He looked at her smiling face and long hair. He wanted to feel joy – and probably did in spite of an urge to contradict him – but became preoccupied with the grass and cement. They were across the street from a mailbox. Such proved the first hurdle on his journey beyond puberty when bacterial content had seemed a virus to government aid. How could he mail a letter when the postman would feel apocrine sweat glands and call other authority figures? Then again, Sally’s T-shirt was so tight, it begged to be removed. He remembered the maid from his father’s utility factory. She cleaned the coffee-break room and wore blue jeans cinched with a brown belt and silver buckle. She would wear plain white T-shirts tucked in and a sleeveless beige button vest hanging above the belt-line and open so the shirt-tucked-in status was always visible. She also wore black moccasins with no socks. She would smile and say, “I will sex you up, tomorrow.” She never made good on her word, probably because Gus said no. Sally reminded him of the maid. He would have confused them with each other except for his tendency to fall short of confusing someone’s sister with another person’s grandchildren. He knew better than to go with instinct. However, Sally was smiling similarly to how the maid smiled. Suddenly, she said, “She’s my cousin.”
Gus was confused. “What are you talking about?”
Sally grinned mischievously. “You know what I’m talking about. She’s my cousin.”
Gus asked, “Who’s your cousin?”
Sally said, “She. You know who she is.”
Gus wanted to escape. The grass and the sidewalk, in conjunction with the mailbox, were too perfect. He knew a stranger would manifest from mist and attack him. He said, “I’m leaving now.”
Sally let go of his hand. “Fine. You may leave but, when I see you again, we’re getting married.”
As he walked away, Gus shook his head and said, “I’m married to no one but myself and that’s no one, either.”
Suddenly, Apple Frank appeared. He had apparently followed Gus and Sally, waiting for his moment. He said, “I am sexually excited by the fact that you are married to yourself. I am not gay but I like you sexually in a way that does not include sex so don’t worry. I am also married to myself. In that sense, we are each other.”
Gus walked faster. “You may sexually excite yourself any way you wish as long as you scram.”
Apple Frank frowned. “I am here as your goat. You can milk me any time you choose to do so, sweetie. I can do many things Sally cannot do. Have you ever seen me turn into Sally? I can do it. She gave me permission. You can ask her. She’s inside of me. Anyway, I believe you are a member of the proletariat regime and you’ve come to arrest me so I have to keep you prisoner until you stare at my nose and apologize.”
Gus ran as fast as possible. He said, “I apologize and I’m staring at your nose.”
Apple Frank ran after him. “I know Toby. He likes Suzie and he wants me to bring you to him. He wants Heffler to have a chat with you. You’re going in the right direction so I don’t need to use my handcuffs and whipped cream.”
Suddenly, Gus fell. He noticed Toby was on the ground, wearing a bulky tweed coat. Toby said,
“You are not going to spot-check me and I will do all the prestige things you want because Suzie is going to be mine.”
Heffler was inside the coat. He said, “You cannot see me yet but I am causing the world to turn into bat cheese. I can take paper pliers and make little animals out of them. The animals will come and hurt you in a philosophical way. Toby is on the outside and I am on the inside. If you open the coat, you will turn into me. Now, I am going to say many things to you and hurt you to the point where you cannot stand to be an elephant. It is all a matter of total recall.”
Toby yelled, “You can stay quiet now. I have not risen from the grounds of the school when the bully brought a bicycle in the laboratory and made a gym seat for his little Fafa. He was out of sorts, you know. Everyone causes a belly shamble from time to time.”
Heffler whispered, “Gus can hear you and he will never bring us to Suzie. We have to act normal so he will allow us to be ourselves around her.”
Gus was puzzled. “Why would you want Suzie? She can’t even take off her sweater. You would be much better off with one of the other two girls. Right now, you can take Sally. She needs just as much help as you.”
Toby asked, “Which one of us are you talking about?”
Gus said, “I’m talking about you.”
Heffler said, “Here we go again. He’s referring to you but talking about me.”
Toby shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re wrong. He’s referring to both of us but only talking to one of us.”
Gus wrestled with Toby. He said, “I will open your coat and find who is in there.”
Toby screamed. “You cannot do that! You will destroy the world! I made my clam chowder according to a secret recipe using clams from a confidential gulf coast. People swim in the waters and dance with the fish. They use certain herbal ingredients to make everything seem smooth. You cannot stop the process of butter. If you open my coat, you will see the leader of the coastal region and he will have to pull out his fun and wave it at you.”
Gus tickled Toby. “I shall torment you to no end now you blathering idiot! I thought I was bad but not only do you take the cake but you bake it too! I can see how Suzie would like you.”
Toby laughed hysterically. “You can stop tickling me. I am your friend.”
Heffler said, “Let him open the coat so he can see I’m not really here.”
Gus asked, “Who are you talking to?”
Heffler said, “Maybe we are playing that game again. I see you have chosen me to be your lover.”
Gus stopped tickling Toby and stood up. Apple Frank smiled. Gus shook his head and said, “You should not have watched that.”
Apple Frank said, “Oh, can it! I’m supposed to get the beer but this is more fun. I don’t have to watch daytime television. You two are the joy of the jam and I mean that in the best sense.”
Suddenly, Gus saw a familiar face peering from behind bushes. Herb was hiding. Gus said, “Come on out, Herb!”
Herb walked slowly towards everyone. He said, “I am normal. You have cleansed me. I can talk about normal things now. The rest of you have taken my strangeness and I am now the way you all want to be.”
Apple Frank shrugged. “That was good but it wasn’t the way I wrote it.”
Herb shook his head. “Heffler told me that line.”
Toby frowned. “How the hell did you know about Heffler?”
Herb smiled. “Gus told me.”
Gus said, “You can’t pin anything on me! I was not here when you all talked. In fact, I have never seen any of you before except for Toby and his friend and Herb but only in certain situations and not as actual friends. So, it doesn’t count. I never had serious discussions with any of them except for Herb but he would not discuss the issue with sincerity. The conversation did not count and I do not really know him so, in that sense, I don’t know any of these people and I certainly am not a spy!”
Apple Frank nodded. He said, “Gus, you are Herb. You suffer from delusions that convince you that he is in front of you but he is not really here. I am here and Toby is here and Heffler may be here but we will not satisfy you on that issue. Anyway, you suffer from the idea that you are someone else. The only difference is your mind has made Herb so much of a real entity that he exists in front of us.”
Herb frowned. “You’re insulting me, right?”
Apple Frank shook his head. “I’m giving you a complement. You don’t want to know how I really feel. However, please shut up because I’m confusing Gus. He thinks he is you because I told him so and, if we play everything according to the universal law, we can make him our mascot and he can wear dog chains and bark and live in the kennel and eat raw foods. I know a fish tank that could hold him. People could throw dust in his eyes and make him scream. Then, we can all dance. I can buy Gus some hats that will make him look stylish.”
Gus rested on the ground. He said, “You can all talk however you want. I am meditating.” He closed his eyes.
Various voices said, “Goodbye” and “I don’t care.” Then, everything was quiet. Gus was happy. He could now spend time thinking about what he would do next. Everything was turning into other than what should be. Economists were trumpeting the phenomenal growth within the community but unable to solve personal problems. There were deep implications of results for studies. Anything could be interpreted individually. He had to assess the specifics. So far, friendships were a maze. His attraction towards one thing led to the discovery of another. People were roadblocks to maturity but open arms and appetizers made denial difficult. Was there such a thing as acceptance? Families should become more active participants in their concerns. Telephone rates were lower than last week. There were many unanswered questions. Finality was up to interpretation. Aggressive proposals would be bogged down in bureaucratic bickering. He would never become mayor. Positive action was met with opposition on account of a committee and a city council acting quickly to implement other strategies. Alcohol was needed. The second most powerful job in state government would cure him. He needed the medicine of red tape. He could be an advocate for social issues. All he needed to do was beg. If the Blossom Boys were able to stay focused, Gus could do likewise. He imagined Sally as a speaker of tight filibusters. She would secure her philosophical positions by way of fashion. However, if he walked back to the meeting area, they would tell him lies. He would become a combination of himself and his other self. Mattresses came in handy. A large circumference covered the designated area with cellophane protection and dust removal. He was on his way up. His thoughts were spreading.
Suddenly, Sally appeared again. She sat next to Gus and put her arm around him. She said, “If you act correctly, I will allow you to take off my clothes.”
Gus shook his head. “I’m a squire who can be made a knight at the ceremony of dubbing. Most young men try to avoid being knighted. However, a bowstring is a part of a crossbow. I intend to stop an onrushing bus. You wouldn’t help.”
Sally asked, “Aren’t you curious what other layers I am wearing? I don’t wear beat-up old clothes. I could have been married to you six years ago. I am in a greenish twist. I’ll pay my board, if you prefer. I won’t leave you alone until you take off my clothes.”
Gus said, “I prefer if you remove your own property.”
Sally nodded. “Fine.” She took her arm away from Gus and pulled off the first red T-shirt and another one was underneath. She took off the second shirt and a third red one showed up. She took off that one and others. There were ten red shirts in all. She said, “I worked somewhere and red shirts were mandatory. I’ve left them on as a souvenir.” The next T-shirt was yellow. Underneath, she had on a gray T-shirt. Each layer had remained tucked in until she removed it. The present T-shirt was still that way. She panted. “That’s all for now.” She got up and walked off.
Gus could care less. He preferred his imaginary friend. Heffler belonged to Toby so Gus owned Tulip Louie, the alternative Blossom Boy. Tulip Louie did not speak but he dipped his hands in the sewer and painted masterpieces on mountains. His hair was full of ice crystals and his feet were made in a ceramics class. When he went to the restroom each morning, he studied his eyebrows for hours. His interest in Gus was based on speculation. No one could be sure how the two met but, according to certain reports, they were one. Gus had not been able to fool the public like Toby could on a good day but Tulip Louie was expert in car mechanics. He could protect children and use doorknob covers when addressing royalty. He never put fluffy blankets and comforters in cribs unless coins came from Utah . However, he unplugged appliances and kept them out of reach. He would get angry. He wanted to stay whenever Gus finished a tantrum. Other ways to act were suggested. Bargains and arguments were misplaced. At least one window had to be opened in case of fire. Detectors were in the home. Eyes, noses, buttons and other small parts were cherished. Drowning was the number one cause of ignorance. He used to meet the needs of Gus by putting safety locks on cupboards, drawers and toilets. He had a lot of energy and asked for help. Gus was looking forward to the ongoing afternoon. He said, “I am here to tell the world about Tulip Louie. I have never done the exact thing when presenting him to people but part of the reason is not revealed. If I look in my book again, I will research the appendix and find out where I left off. Then, I can inform people about the proper use of Tulip Louie. He can parade with me when I meet up with the Blossom Boys again. I’m sure they can be of good use as long as one of them stops licking my face. I have a collection of baseball cards and old wine I can share with the lot of them. I’m sure there are more Blossom Boys in the area. All I have to do is remind myself how they handled any situation and I can feel the ease of the breeze. Tulip Louie will help me. He has my keys. He knows the mysteries and has refused to let me solve them. If I can convince him to bring me home, I can allow him to convince me of where I left off. Of course, I have to look at the song selection again. I cannot allow things to go according to plan.”
Suddenly, Citrus George strolled by. He stood next to Gus and said, “Hello.”
Gus said, “Hello. I am happy to see you.”
Citrus George asked, “What do you mean when you say you are happy to see me?’
Gus nodded. “I mean that my emotion is happy. I’m not saying my name is Happy. So, in that sense, my emotions are a part of who I am, though I cannot say they are a part of me in the same sense that my ear is a part of me but I can say my emotions have some validity.”
“What do you mean when you say your emotions have validity?”
“I guess I’m referring to how any emotion I have is valid in accordance to my mood. My emotion might not be the right one in any given situation. In fact, much of my moods are antithetical to conventional ways and means. Yet, here I go on with my moods, doing whatever damage or repair I choose. So, my emotions have validity because I am making them up as I go along. In other words, my emotions change so they couldn’t be inherited. What if you were inherited blood and it turned into potato chips? Well, emotions are like the difference between blood and potato chips.”
“What do you mean when you talk about potato chips?”
“I mean that potato chips are baked in oil or fried or whatever the hell happens when they are made. Potatoes do not come in chips in the same sense that money does not come in the form of a bankcard but a bankcard can be used when retrieving money. A potato chip can be eaten as a way to retrieve the nutrients from the object pulled out of the ground. Potato chips are tasty.”
“What do you mean when you say potato chips are tasty?”
“Okay. This is the answer I have decided is right. Potato chips are tasty because the majority of people say they are. In a metaphysical sense, things exist merely according to what they are, regardless of what the population feels about them. However, if enough people in the majority agree that potato chips are tasty, they can be. In that same sense, if enough people can believe I truly exist, I can become ruler of the universe.”
Citrus George smiled. “I have finally got to the point I was waiting to hear. You will become ruler of the universe if you so choose. All you have to do is buy some cufflinks. You can get them at the corner store. The man behind the counter used to live in Pakistan and he has plenty of cuff links. I believe you will achieve your goal. The world will be a different place.”
Gus smiled. “Thank you.”
Citrus George nodded. “You’re welcome.” He walked off.
Gus was content. He could hardly wait to see what would happen next.
The Occasions Chapter Five: Close Enough To An Erotic Mishmash
Gus stood up. Fog was distinctly present. Coriander Park differed from Labrador but resembled Newfoundland . He could imagine himself on a mountain ridge. He would visit such an area two hundred days a year. His relationship to life was condensing into water vapors in the air. Relative humidity was abundant during conversation. Each person was one particle in the larger mass of dust, aerosols and pollutants. Salt would help. Attraction was drizzle coalescing into larger droplets. Atmospheric pressure became more intense during each greeting. Road vehicles traveled slower than sea vessels. Other methods were developed at airports and could cause freezing. Colors were changing and becoming more diverse with impromptu lines and spots choreographing motions of fate. Schedules resembled dirty windshield wipers. Juicy bubbles were soon to threaten him, smashing jelly contents on his clothes in a mad dance of cacophony with a touch of breakfast butter. His main problem was thermal radiation from Evelyn, Sally and Suzie. Lake Ontario was the only possible hideout. He thought he could hear Evelyn’s voice. She was saying, “Quit daydreaming and pay attention to me.”
Gus was too concerned about heat conduction to answer immediately. Autumn would turn into winter and then he could concentrate. He needed a significant snow pack to take care of the warm front. However, he knew she might not be real so he ought to solve the mystery. He said, “I am taking care of a southerly surge. If the monsoon is significantly turbulent, it might instead break up the marine layer.”
Evelyn laughed. “Sally told me I could try. She said that maybe I would get through to you. Look. I have on a different outfit.” She pointed to herself. Gus noticed she was wearing a long-sleeved brown scoop-neck shirt, with the sleeves pushed up, tucked into blue jeans with a tight brown rope belt. Her get-up looked a bit too presentable for its own good. He figured she was a mirage.
He said, “You are artificial. You have been generated by my fog machine.”
She shrugged. “I am pushing against my reluctance to commit to anything. My sleeves represent Suzie and the belt represents Sally’s tightness but the rest is all me. I was a fool to give you up even though you actually escaped. I was turning into your better half. I am going there, again.” She reached and grabbed Gus’ wrist. “The process is complete. You are under arrest for deceiving those who love you. I am your new religion. You will think of me every day.”
Gus had to concentrate. He said, “Maybe later.” His image of Evelyn was confined by local topography. Temperature inversion controlled his mind. However, her grip felt real so he had to get free before she would disappear. He tried prying her fingers open but her hand was dense and abrupt. Hers was ice that formed inside a freezer. She kept rigidly locked to his wrist. She was making the fog tangible for clarification purposes. She knew he was in the vicinity of significant hail accumulations and needed heat to melt the thaw. However, the tightness of everything she was wearing bothered him. Her sleeves were pushed up in a way just a bit too provocative, unlike Suzie who skimped on prepared precision. Suzie had apparently applied rash procedure. Evelyn took time looking through magazine advertisements and observing various stylish foreigners. Hers was a look indicating something pretentious as if she assumed an air of feeling she was above everybody else. She had the arms and pout to prove so. Yet, the irritating and fascinating aspect of her arms was more disturbing when combined with her tucked-in top more snug than before as if with purpose. The pants were belted tightly, restricting movement of the shirt. Her uniform was mandatory in a psychological mission. Still, her grip on him was the breaking point because he served merely as an accessory. Everything fit correctly and he could not stand that. Her maneuver was a mechanical obstruction to the air passages in his thoughts. He needed someone to start an important impetus to the modern environmental movement. He clawed frantically, imagining respiratory problems.
Suddenly, she kissed him. She said, “Your problems are over. I managed to become what I insist you need.”
He stopped trying to get free. He said, “New regulations were put in place. You need to abide by them.”
She smiled seductively. “Oh, Gus. You’re a cute victim. Just allow us to be with each other forever.”
He frowned. “Your words should be prepared for publicity. You should have them titled in other editions.”
She said, “Your worries will always exist but I will help you live through them.”
He needed another tactic. She was too self-informed. Political information would help his cause. He said, “Now we know what you wear and eat. Of course, Francisco’s not going to be happy. He has a black side and the mayor next to him has been gone in the last city. He perceives things as supporting us while twenty thousand are in the level of the left in the city. You know that the bay views and the hunters are who get low yet they stayed in the South Carolina part by Askari.”
Evelyn figured there was nothing wrong in continuing a good thing. She would bring forth an unusual distribution and importance by disturbing his habitat, especially near the coast of his feelings where he played make believe. He could say whatever he wanted while she acted the predator. He was the small forest bird, the seeds, the invertebrate and perhaps lizard. Gus was the New Zealand forest with a potentially congruent ecosystem if he allowed large areas of the mainland to be managed by her. She would be a suitable environment for him and her wrist could be referred to as the Ship Rat in search of food. She smiled. “You would feel better if you kissed me back.”
Gus shook his head. “If we are to the place, we are approximately by the person who is the fact by Francisco and given the day when the bay view got approached by the hunters in Castro and in the last hand where the thing is the basic homeless air. All of this can come into an estimate that has stuff pertaining to what are black passageways through a space system so the black clothes belong to a citizen of merged worth. The people and community have a good idea of some at City Hall. They get a lot of homeless ideas having to get dirty with the supervisor. I think his name is Gavin and your doughnut starts with a noun and ends with a truck. Naming it is what a piece of cash can become when it is this.”
Evelyn would not give up. Her grip was there to stay so imagination was needed. Her outfit would cause a problem in eighteenth century England – especially if the shirt was known as the brown rodent Rattus Norvegicus – but times had changed since then and would continue to do so. She stroked his hair. “You are beautiful.”
Gus yelled, “Monopoly is labor history and naked to the cause as introduced by corporations with the master of cooking in their annual focal point of black dust! Their lives will begin on February and twenty four people are like this because they hire attorneys! You have asked who was one of the first holding a community with securities and the past fifteen years I have known whose chairman has used many blues and reds and blacks and greens in the color scheme while a white house holds ancestors! They did stuff for which side he is on! I am reluctant to fight in the south park!”
Evelyn knew his was not an allergic reaction to her tenderness. She was not one to affect blood pressure, clotting and heart rhythms. She had an aesthetic appeal and would prevent sprouting of negativity towards their situation. He would get used to a new life. Her wrist was like a separate mouth licking a lollipop attached to Gus’ arm, moistening his wrist like an earthworm that prepared dirt. She knew he was excited. She was the quicksand engulfing his desire. There was no other possibility. She asked, “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
Gus shook his head. “We don’t want bad people when good old men can bring boys and what we need to take. We went to them when the good people stopped then someone read a poem and learned to stop even more and to bring a piece of soup. They are on our labor place and people like when we found our dignity with Thomas onto the time and the same old area and the horizon with a street and PR firms that have moved away from the media. I can convince holders to keep from the center of it."
Evelyn stroked his hand with her other hand. An investigation needed clues from various sources, including translation and an interpretation of meaning. The investment went on too long without reciprocation. Handcuffs should have been bought. She appealed to his hunger. She smiled. “I am sophisticated and subtle. Let me guide you through the world’s most diverse cuisine. Have you eaten traditional Indian dishes that include chicken, goat, lamb or fish? However, if you would rather, you can imagine a significant portion that is vegetarian. Breathe in the air and take in the wonderful smells of chutneys and pickles. Float with me through the unique flavors and aromas.”
Gus shrugged. “In Japan ’s rich comic work of two natural images in ransom, red is interpreted by rephrasing child following and dramatic union. This film understands its name to fighting a mistaken identity comedy series that Hatton received from a reedited education. Koshiban talked for thirty-eight minutes including emphasis in the film of all time. This working-class is considered of an insurance surrounding genre found in a montage of director stylized cinematic denouement.”
She continued moving her hand on his wrist, giving him a massage, like a boa constrictor slithering and squeezing in a vow of partnership. “Let my touch work its magic on you. Your emotions will be cooked like tomatoes and chili and potatoes. You will be in ecstasy from the gravies and pilafs. Dive in and taste of the kebabs and apricots and melons and peaches and plums.”
Gus was nervous. “They don’t want beds based on talk. They have many of the jobs in a foundation of the story from a slat in the box feeling comfortable. Slats are for them in rests based on jobs where a job indicates rewarding points. The love feeling is of a direct result that connects Johnson who says more or less eat and learn of the body that gives me a sense of variety abundance that’s displayed in not some four-posters accounting sleighs. Several things are twenty-three years old and make a founder for Deva in the opportunity history couldn’t refuse and history of the proved past.”
She guided his hand towards her waistline. Then, she put his hand inside her pants, tempting him to see what he would do. He did not want to upset the balance in the park’s environment. Her actions were probably purposeful and not in want of negotiations. She could scream and cause more damage if he succumbed to chicanery. He kept his hand still while on the tour. She said, “My tight shirt is like rice and the pants seem like whole wheat flour. They fit on me like lentils and stick like the best groundnut oil. Think of me as a coconut or a sunflower or a soybean. You are my mustard and you are soft like clarified butter. Concentrate on how my hand embraces your wrist like cumin or turmeric or fenugreek. I am your ginger and garlic. We will combine like cardamom, cinnamon and clove. We will baste in the warmth of our happiness as we engage in nutmeg, saffron and rose petal essence.”
Gus pulled his hand out of her pants. He wiggled frantically, attempting escape. Everything was too exciting and conflicted with his music and paper clips, especially when combined with spaghetti and minerals. His inanimate objects were calling to him and sending smoke signals by way of plane. He said, “The opening provides in this issue of the assistance you tell about the political regime our elected officials are sometimes mentioning in state public lands. They also need to hear locals receiving suggestions on use in the letter-writer of pages and locate other than the speaking out those affecting it of the eel of ways. I wield us that with the carry-weight coalition in some who say a politician will propose genuine thoughtful status to the opinionated water sources. People have, since then, only connectivity that actually bothers to help for wildlife. This is a letter that can be secured and taken seriously by postcards and written information.”
She returned his hand around the waistband of her jeans. “I bet you want to pull out my shirt. You want to see how I look when I am free of restricted clothing. However, you cannot bring yourself to ruin my outfit. My clothes excite you. You want to eat my clothes. My clothes are put together like a recipe for Chicken Tikka Masala. You are a new and more inventive restaurateur who creates vibrant dishes.”
Gus laughed. History was making new connections. Everything started from one source before metamorphosing into something unexpected. He yearned for a return to genealogical information and repetitive word orders. The phone book ought to be around the corner. Where was Toby with his tax return information? He needed Evelyn to understand his position. He said, “Learning is a new hobby of gift courage but families are the improved way you know how to make a well-being state of mind. This bath and body is with the workshop and the tools to end and meet with and the negative and the how-to basics resenting molds, scents and creations. Then, it’s carrying around something made from dried resentment that can have professional life properties for your making even. Someone will explore the delight to discuss what senses treat research and what tells us of how you’re the nine steps to one in how to free herbal bath tea grudges and a truly pampering system. You know how to release tools to keep making fizz baths. Try it with forgiveness and see this fun in your life improve delighted as such.”
Evelyn frowned. “What will it take to get you to stop talking like that?”
Gus smiled. She would soon turn into the person he wanted from her. Words could land on the body like ointment and cause a rainstorm in the slow race of an egg sandwich. Tortoises were everything. Towers were blue. Bleach was consistent. Other ways of thinking were optimal. Conclusions could be based on tortilla chips flying through planetary systems next to popular songs from Budapest . Card games were defined by their strategies. If one grabbed the hand of another during an afternoon, nighttime would conclude the festivities. There were things that had a kind of thing that was not in a way like those things that were in a way of the stuff that had the things that had the thing and the kind of things that were in the things. Of course, such information was obtainable through dictionaries and dogs running around poles. He needed a new hair spray. Dancing partners could interpret the rustling of trees. He said, “Premium lessons are a classified approach to rock and jazz teaching. Carpentry is plumbing with all types of problems got all day long or I can help your home for windows holding business tapes installed with a block off ordering your home physics rates.”
Evelyn was irritated. “I need you to pay attention to what is important.” She waved to someone in the distance.
Gus stared at the sky. She would walk away soon. All animals had a breaking point. The bus stop was full of beggars, insisting on speaking in laughing tones towards those who were afraid of shouting matches. She was not really his type even though she was most definitely close enough to what his type would be like if he allowed himself an amount of clarity. However, a fluffy blanket provided enough warmth for the month. He would never allow her to visit his house. He said, “We used to be falling asleep with two heads then imagined if black and gray helped to fall asleep in an agreed thin blanket and not before that was to be difficult with plastic animals sleepy in a fact with you beside a couch. I wouldn’t be very happy to turn and sit up to expect a baby to decide that he must be twelve years old. You can avoid making seats by upsetting the shotgun seating to fall asleep without your negotiators who are angry and upset but this changes your bedtime car trips where a baby will probably cry. They are here because their seats give upset in different times when all voices are unavoidable.”
Evelyn shook her head. “Maybe I should have pretended I was Suzie. Maybe I am Suzie.”
Gus nodded. She understood finally his concept. However, he needed prominent economists from across the country to address the issue of poverty and she was keeping him from starting the coalition. He tried prying her hand off his wrist but she kept up the stance of institutional discrimination by denying his access to employment in the house of metaphysical awareness. He would need to start a public search – including medical personnel and officers – in order to obtain constitutional standards. He said, “Young people are authors and the latest commissioner was shaping up as to provide political games with backers maintaining when a city blocks out sunlight. Residents will have a strong mayor and traffic laws will have a campaign saying that organizations develop forums when they are planning throughout the encouraging suburban mayhem when measures are a part of the grand lake. You are asking for a month when the campaign debates at the limiting bridge along the blow to affordable housing where a city also points out that there is no panacea and we have lost.”
Evelyn sighed and squeezed his wrist even tighter. “If you give one more outburst, I will bring you back home with me.”
Gus mumbled, “But we are in their violence abused but families fall, creating communities or weakening a mountain society with their unavoidable ways. People have terrible truths to the relationship with projects where we ordinarily climb three recognized Bolivian trees. Anyone can ask things of others with their own limits requiring extraordinary strength with olives and survivors.” He was glad she was not a reporter joining the chat room. She was unique in many ways. No one would suspect her to be a powerhouse. She was probably making a success of herself in the newspaper business. She would do what she wanted so he ignored his irritation. He said, “I am through thinking.”
She waved. Suddenly, Apple Frank showed up. He smiled and said, “I have come back in the name of a person, whether I am real or fictitious. If I have given rise to the name of a particular place or other item, it is because I represent what I am about to do to him. Some laws of eponyms suggest that definitions are occasionally false because the person does not act in accordance with fact. To that extent, Gus needs me to put him in the car.”
Evelyn nodded. “There is a fine abandoned car right by the corner close to the parking lot. We will take him on a journey.”
Apple Frank smiled. “You are the female Julius to his wimpy Caesar. The gearshifts will change every two months but the trip will be worth it. We have to go by the regnal year standard in order to respect statutes and law reports in case we end up in the tabloids. We can be British monarchs.”
Gus shook his head. “I cannot go in cars. Enclosed areas are like sweet foods and the front seat of a car is like ginger powder. If you take me with you, I will scream.”
Evelyn walked, pulling Gus with her. “We can sell you to a vendor by the bus stop. He will take you to the circus. You can be the freak. Just remember what I said about foods, especially the fresh pickle with the combination of lemon juice or vinegar.”
Gus refused to move. He sat on the ground and screamed. “This is not my lavender cardboard box! I need my Tim Weisberg albums to soothe me! Let go of me! The both of you are sponges sopping up whatever I say! How can I study the symbolism behind bacon grease on paper if you won’t leave me be? I am sick of parks! I thought I could count on the fog but it has caused betrayal!”
Apple Frank picked up Gus. He said, “Honestly, Evelyn, you can let go of his hand. I can put him in the car much easier if you’re not in the way. I can’t foretell how much of a fight he will put up.”
Evelyn sighed. “Okay. I will mentally let go, though physically I have to stay attached to him. I have learned about the right combinations of things melding so I can cause happy fusion. Gus cannot be by himself any longer. That was his old life. If I let go of him, the journey will be pointless.”
Apple Frank smiled while Gus wiggled in his arms like a fish in a boat. Apple Frank commented, “We will try it your way but, if I cannot get him in the car, I will have to pry your hand off of his wrist.”
Evelyn shrugged. “Do what you feel you need to do but I have the laws of alternate reality on my side and I can easily make him become physically another part of me.”
Apple Frank shook his head. “I think you already have.” He and Evelyn walked towards The Flying Sausage, technically owned by Apple Frank but legally abandoned. He refused to pay parking tickets. The Flying Sausage looked like it was flattened purposefully to fit merely those wanted. They attempted to stuff Gus in it but he moved every way possible, avoiding complete submersion in the vehicle. Apple Frank was irritated and said, “Okay, Evelyn, you can let go of him. I have to do a little fondling myself and I’m getting jealous when you own a part of his beautiful property. I can’t get him in the car, otherwise.”
Evelyn cried. “I will not let go of him! I am counting on you to make everything better! When I met you, I was happy to find someone able to turn everything into the right stuff. Gus is flailing because he loves me. You can condition him.”
Ginger Timothy ran towards them. He jumped up and down. He said, “What a wonderful thing you are doing! Can I try something?” He was holding an ice cream cone in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. He dumped the ice cream on Gus’ hair. He said, “I did not want to get him dirty from dust or mildew so I figured dairy products would be sufficient. Plus, there is more drama in cream.”
Gus wiggled even more frantically. He said, “I cannot abide by what Livingstone did in Africa when he wore that horrendously hot pea coat! He was in Africa way back then and the waterfall looked nice but he gave it a different name and all of you are talking about England so I feel mistrust!”
Ginger Timothy shrugged. “Fine by me. I can turn up the heat.”
Gus screamed, “No!! I said no heat!!”
Ginger Timothy smiled. “I remember you like to be perverse. That’s why you would not accept my marriage proposal even though I did not give one but I would have if I knew you would have accepted. Hotness is exactly what you want and deserve.” He poured the tea on Gus’ neck.
Gus gestured grotesquely with his body. He said, “If Evelyn was not holding my hand, I am afraid I would turn gay enough to love you back, you stupid little Ginger Timothy prankster! Of course, Apple Frank wears outfits much more to my liking when it comes to men’s outfits, even though I don’t like men in that way so I cannot say for certain if I am telling the truth, but he is less my type. Look what is happening! You are trying to convert me!”
Apple Frank laughed. “We are taking you on a journey and that is final!” He shoved Gus in the car.
Evelyn sat on top of him. She said, “It would have been better if the front end of the car had four seats instead of two.”
Apple Frank shrugged. “I guess that’s your problem.”
Gus laughed. He could sense the management heading towards the flow of goods and other resources. The point of origin did not meet up with consumption unless specifics were targeted towards individuals. His new friends were forming conclusions without clarity. He needed other types of nourishment than drama. However, his observations lead him to believe they were serious. He wanted to leave but Evelyn was calculating her position with a responsible attitude. She was maintaining and transporting him between regions of renewal. He moved upwards while she pinned him in place. Her grip was one thing but the whole body was another matter. If he could successfully free himself from the orbit, he would find another spaceship. He yelled, “Get away from the gate! My path has a new blanket and you cannot pile up against me! Take your friend and make another list! He can guide you with the help of masks! You know what I am talking about! Take me out of the truth!”
Evelyn frowned. “I think Gus is in need of toxins.”
Apple Frank nodded. “Let me handle everything.” He rubbed his hands together. “Gus, my new servant, I have your new history in front of you. The earliest known record of you appears in Dorchester , Massachusetts . Some of your children moved to Exeter and became the ancestors of a distinguished family. Your issue is not transportation itself but you have a flow through the value adding processes and eliminating non-values. You are manufacturing things in an existing plant that is constantly changing processes. Your first name appears in town records as early as the sixteen hundreds. You were the second governor.”
Gus kept trying to get away. He wiggled frantically while Evelyn pinned him harder by pushing her body on his. He felt excitement from how her chest was pushing on him. He was overwhelmed by his imagination. According to him, her shirt was tightening where it was tucked in while she decided to ignore whether the material would come out or stay rigid. Her goal was apparently to focus on him instead of her clothes. Such a concept worked its weirdness. He said, “Evelyn, you’re exciting me too much! Even if my family lived on a small clearing in the forest, I cannot help but want to push you in mud and watch you squeal while the cows lick you with their tongues and you hop around with flour all over your face. Possibly, you will feel strenuous times through which you’ll pass in later years but you’ll be holding me close while you call yourself a lightning rod and press my forehead towards the windshield.”
She was happy. They were becoming an Interstate system with various highway routes leading towards one destination. She would fix Gus by using proper maintenance and administration. She got out of the car, still holding his wrist and pulling him with her. They sat on the ground. She looked into his eyes. “I can see you will enter my world. I am making you become me. The only major difference between us is like the dividing line by Wichita and Emporia . I will bring forth some different alignments. Your experience will be extended and upgraded to a freeway region. I have many places to show you. Separation is impossible.”
Apple Frank frowned. “Actually, he can divide himself by rapid adoption. You can control him while he is impaired by fatigue until he is no longer usable and you can give him to me so I can store his body in a gift shop.”
Evelyn said, “Don’t pay attention to him, Gus. He is not you. I am you.”
Apple Frank picked up a rock and squeezed it, increasing pressure. He yelled, “I will hurt myself until I am no longer extremely precise unless you allow me to perform fully coupled auto landings on Gus’ consciousness. When I am done, the world will encounter the frequent occurrence of very low visibility conditions. My hand is a power generator. I shall squeeze the life out of myself and become a spirit circling over Gus until he leaves you.”
Evelyn sighed. “Shut up and get out of here.”
Apple Frank squeezed the rock even tighter. “I am banning the censorship of the burning of smoke-producing fuel! I am developing what is now widely understood as the monitored approach and everyone will observe me and be my slave! Hahahaha!” He ran off, still squeezing the rock, in search of a clock tower. Ginger Timothy was still there, standing silently. His work was finished.
Evelyn said, “Go chase your friend.” He nodded and ran off, also.
Gus was still not sure if Evelyn was real or imaginary. His encounter with acquaintances was always in question. As far as he was concerned, no one existed past the circumference of his calculations. He was going through another occasion and needed a theory. He said, “Things are not so.”
Evelyn was puzzled. “What seems incorrect?”
Gus nodded. “You are realizing you are imaginary and don’t like it.”
“That’s not true! If you think I don’t exist, then try to loosen yourself from me. I have to teach you a lesson. Here I am, looking good for your benefit, and all you do is insult me! That is no way to treat a companion!”
He was not sure whether or not she meant what she said, regardless of her realness issues. She could have pretended to be someone else equally non-existent. He would have to send smoke signals through a funnel as a precautionary measure. Wet napkins would help when the weather turned hot. However, he was an emperor of his kingdom only and not authorized to rule large parts of subcontinents. He had to maintain a superficial sense of unity and democracy. If she persisted in holding his wrist, he would need to brush up on judiciary history and declare a state of emergency. She could pretend to be one of his crew people but he remembered other personalities setting foot on his territory. Her ego was a mountain with a large depth of the platform from which her attitude had risen. Statistics adhered to areas under the unifying influence of more than one major town. He needed to look into divisions of districts. She classified herself as urban but she did not represent the population of his imagination. She wanted to play a critical role in the transformation of his republic. He had to start a military campaign. If she appealed to the people in real life, he would demand that the message he sent be understood. Finally, he figured there was no harm in finding out what she could accomplish. He asked, “Why don’t we stand up and dance?”
She smiled. “Okay.”
They got up and moved their heads from side to side, circling their waists and wiggling their legs. Gus said, “You and I are in the land of yadda yadda sweet mustard yang yang poot poot and all of the rhyming stuff after the ha ha elephant and his cat plays a tune.”
Evelyn giggled. “Whee! You and I in a flower line of golf fun and stuffed animals who shout after mistakes have been made concerning the line-up of papers registered in the army index.”
Gus tried moving his wrist back and forth, faster and faster, hoping to shake himself loose from Evelyn’s grip. As he did so, he felt more excited, partly from the vibrations he caused and partly because of Evelyn’s laughing at him. If nothing else were accomplished, he would keep wiggling that hand until her bracelet of fingers loosened slack and became removable. Irritation set in alongside the excitement and he could not help but address the point. He said, “If you don’t let go of my hand sometime soon, I will un-tuck your shirt! You’re driving me nuts with your fashionable looks and your stubborn stupidity when it comes to how you hold me like a dog in the realms of your limited sphere. You can let go of me if you choose but, now, you’re making me think you really do exist and you really are me. I am holding my own wrist and the Blossom Boys are really women dressed up to distract me and I just can’t understand what the hell is going on!”
Evelyn laughed. “Really, Gus. You are suffering from a reality check. We can dance a little bit longer but then I will show you the sights of our town and you’ll learn how to be more the type of person I choose for you to be. Of course, that means you will really be acting like me because I am you or close enough. You do like how I’m touching you but, even if you didn’t, I like it. I will keep this up until you finally admit you belong to me. Then, I will still keep it up because I belong to you and need us to stay connected.”
Gus said, “Of course, there is a certain shift in the air and we have to start breathing differently if we are to succumb to the new workings. I need to tell you about the postal service in the new region. If you do insist on visiting the land where I plan to become governor, you’ll have to abide by my rules, even if you insist on keeping me like a caterpillar on a strawberry sundae. However, you do have to know that I am merely suggesting possibilities because I will scream after a while and you will not be able to stop me. I have invented a new frequency heard by only those who I pretend to know for certain are real. I am more convinced now than ever that you are real and that is what I cannot begin to understand in full. In other words, the fact of your realness – or similarity thereof – means you know what I’m talking about. I am glad you know what I’m talking about but I would prefer if you pretend not to know because, if you really are me and I am you, I would like for us to change back into ourselves even if we already are so.”
Evelyn said, “You need to stare at a pizza box.”
Gus frowned. “Whatever. We can think about things later. Right now, let us continue dancing.”
Evelyn smiled. “Fine.” She was content. After a while, the tour would begin.
The Occasions Chapter Six: Strange Investigations

Gus woke up, feeling odd. He chose to forget the last hours. He was distancing himself for the purpose of ex-communication. However, his transmission medium indicated a different environment. The bed was in a room reminiscent of happy pink spiders churning out tunes on atonal harpsichords. The walls almost reached out and grabbed him. He had a yearning to read a Swiss translation of last year’s stock report. He was not where he saw himself. Someone drew a caricature of him and planted it in a horror digest magazine, then borrowed his soul for experimental purposes. He made himself breathe faster. Meditation was best with rhythms. Isolated villagers used cell phones. A signal might be recreated when transmitted over long distances. He picked up his hand and then realized it was not a telephone. Then, he noticed the other hand gripping his wrist. Uh oh. Evelyn was not joking. She wanted to be a part of him. Of course, she would have to endure Thursday nights spent cleaning a backpack before dirtying the sink. His family would take pictures of her and gossip for weeks. His estranged friends would smoke cigars and eat oysters dipped in soy sauce and raspberry jam. Something had to be done. Her grip was as tight as ever. Her sleeves were still pushed up in that arrogant actress style. Such pretense bothered him. Yet, her shirt was still tucked in and he figured that could be changed. He would give her a classroom demonstration of surprise. The loose shirt would shock her into letting him go. She would eventually merge with other networks of etiquette. He reached, with his free hand, and grabbed a hank of her shirt by the waistline. She woke up and slapped his hand away.
She said, “It cannot be done.”
He asked, “Why not?”
“You’ll be trying to separate yourself from yourself. I now understand who you are. Your energy is magnificent. The first time I saw you, I felt a strong pull. Now that we are as one, my decision is complete. I have won over Sally and Suzie. They can share us if they want but the part of you that is who I am won’t give up the goose. My optical fibers are providing cheaper communications.”
Gus shook his head. “There has to be a separate electrical connection that works in reverse. You can correct a handful of mistakes in the resulting message but that will lead to incomprehensible output and a breakdown of the transmission.”
Evelyn sighed. “Look here, you little fool. You have a situation to take care of and that includes the changing of situations like coins. You have ten dimes and I am the dollar bill. I will interpret the phenomena happening to you and cause you to be normal.”
Gus shook his head. “I have eaten all my pumpkin seeds. There can be no nutrition in your assemblage. Let me hurl myself at a painting and cause a museum hoax.”
Evelyn got out of bed and pulled Gus with her as she walked in the front room. “This is a matter of taking you around town. We look like grownups. We blend in. You can sing that love song you’ve wanted to learn. I can pretend to be a pink bunny. I can bring you to the coffee shop and you can meet the coolest guy in the world. You’re the hottest guy and he’s the coolest. You can try out regular sentences on him. He would probably recognize you.”
Gus made a fist with his free hand. “I have been away from my novels and sponges and papers and tapes long enough. I have some cans and cups I need to dance with and you do not look like them. How can I possibly walk in town with you when everyone knows I am someone else?”
Evelyn walked outside. Gus had no choice but to follow. She said, “Soon, you will face it. The things are coming.”
They walked towards town. Fog turned into a slight cloud of cigarette smoke from several pedestrians. However, foot traffic was thin. The moment was clearer. Gus was unsure why. He noticed the slight look of puzzlement on Evelyn’s face as she skipped childishly as if rehearsing for a television program. She was probably waiting for a solid mixture. Her stance must have been based on an investigation of puzzles with no answers other than through interpretation only. Her attitude must have been a garden with a variety of fun colors meant for inclusion in a game. She might not have enjoyed playing the role of leader and preferred equal friendship except for memories as a security guard. Her hold on his wrist felt like he really was under arrest. He wanted freedom but understood the significance of her actions. Yet, his idea of equality included an approximate fifty-percent of legalities. He was tempted to do as he threatened by pulling her shirt loose but noticed suddenly how it shifted when she sighed. The material stretched like gum without leaving its place. She glanced occasionally at him as he noticed as such. Her facial expression was a combination of mischievous grin, naïve nonchalance and coquettish denial. She seemed prepared for his moves. He decided not to try. Something about their game indicated they both liked what was going on. She must have figured he would not appreciate an un-tucked top. The other possibility was not desirable to face. Her image could have been an alternative towards his lack of fashion etiquette. His dirty cut-off sweatshirt and jogging pants would have to do. However, that could not be the final answer. She suddenly liked him and needed comments. He figured on a compromise and said, “It would look more romantic if you hold my hand instead of my wrist.”
She said, “I’m trying something different.”
He said, “You could try it again. You changed your shirt, correct?”
“But there is more to that than you think. I might need your help later.”
“You won’t get it. I am always the riddle and never the student. You can at least not embarrass me in front of the very few people walking by.”
Evelyn nodded. “Let me think for a moment.” She might concede, depending on various shapes and patterns giving clues towards the next few minutes. The sidewalk was decorated with squares of grout and painted gray, pink and light charcoal. There had to be more than one person designing the downtown area, especially considering the location of the plaza and the fountain where children threw pennies. She settled finally on a resolution. If Gus was with her, he became her inadvertent advisor by default. His sense of comfort was important. Suddenly, her hand gripped his hand with an adamant sense of firmness. He felt more complete in an indirect way. Both sides of his conflict were dancing. The wind sounded more musical. They were getting closer to what Gus called the statistic equilibrium. According to him, stomach juices called out during any internal eating when food visits purely from motivation. Each rung of a ladder came closer to an ultimate theory, but with occasional setbacks caused by wetness. His perspiration was more mental than physical and dripped through his interior gadgetry. His urge to run was held in check by Evelyn’s seductive chastisement. However, she could hold on just so long before needing to set him free. Action itself was a pastime and did not mean much outside of the subjective sphere. As to whether she was actually holding on or Gus was satirically playing the prisoner, he chose not to find out. If he really wanted Evelyn to go away, he could close his eyes and let the issue be done. Yet, he was intrigued about how she would react once they drank coffee or ate food. Two could play. He ought to embarrass her silly.
She dragged him in a café, squeezing tight enough for an ordinary person to groan in pain but Gus felt merely a little more warmth than during a few seconds ago. He felt as though others would envy him, if they were in his position, whether or not they shared his love of rulers dipped in drain cleaner. He would say whatever he wanted to say, making his word order a fashion statement in the realm of linguistics. Evelyn figured he had a plan so she chose a cashier wearing a lemon-yellow jumpsuit and skin painted green. The cashier was a man and almost as pretty as Gus. Evelyn figured the two men would get along. She said, “I would like to order a double mocha.”
The cashier smiled. “Fine. What will you have, sir?”
Gus said, “I will have an indication, baked extra crispy.”
The cashier frowned. “I don’t understand. Please repeat your order.”
Gus shrugged. “You heard correctly except most places don’t carry a side order of guacamole to accompany Republican rigmarole basted with licorice real estate.”
The cashier sighed. “I have enough people making fun of me after work. I’m trying to make a living so please order something on the menu and quit acting as shoddy as your outfit indicates. I’m sure there’s a little spark of intelligence waiting to get out.”
Gus held up the hand Evelyn was holding. He said, “This is the plug attached to my intelligence. We are now as one, as she so facetiously would put it. I am not against the place as much as you’d think but I feel confined by regulations, whether they relate to the board of health or the bored of spirit. Even a rich man has his limits. She is pecking me like a worm eating corn.”
The cashier winked. “I got it now. Yours is both a cry for help and a hope I will come home with you tonight. On both accounts, I am flattered except my cowardice prevents me from calling the police and giving her the exact treatment she deserves.”
Gus shook his head. “Not exactly. I am giving you no hints. Think of her as a wart that talks. I am the significant one. The wart ordered coffee. I ordered gibberish.”
The cashier shook his head. “I can’t deal with this. You might as well get out of here and wait around the corner until I give you my phone number.”
Gus smiled. “Gladly. I am the tugboat on the Formica.” He attempted to walk away while Evelyn kept holding on to him.
The cashier laughed. “Okay, now. I understand. You work in the mental hospital and you’re keeping him from becoming dangerous. That’s my politically correct assumption this week and you’re both welcomed in this establishment. The coffee is on the house.” He handed Evelyn her cup.
She said, “Thank you.”
As they walked to their table, Gus prepared another approach. Some aspects of the mystery ought to be solved. He would try the style of Citrus George. Clarity was the momentary shenanigan. He said, “I have to ask some questions and you will give some answers. If you really are becoming me, you will oblige.”
She smiled. “I see us in an English mansion. We will be exploring many rooms. By the way, I ought to call you Panda to counterbalance when I called you Monkey.”
Gus was irritated with her words but stimulated by her touch. He asked, “Why do you tuck in your shirts and why are your sleeves pushed up?”
She said, “I mostly do it by accident. Sometimes I like to tuck them in and sometimes I don’t but, on the days when I don’t tuck them in, I notice they already are. It’s inconvenient when I wear sweaters because, when I first notice they are worn like that, I have to keep them that way the whole time.”
“Why do you say you have to keep them that way?”
“Well, when I tuck them in, I must be acting on some subliminal impulses so I would be a hypocrite if I acted against my secret desires.”
“Are you wearing this shirt tucked in on purpose or subliminally?”
“I’m wearing it like this strictly because it goes good with holding on to you. It’s like I’m your wife.”
“Why are your sleeves pushed up?”
“Suzie insisted. She said she wanted to be the one holding you so I might as well be her imitation.”
“Are you saying you really want to hold on to me or are you doing this because you’re pretending to be Suzie?”
“My answers are not really true. What matters is strictly what I’m doing and not why I’m doing so.”
“Are you saying you can let go if you choose?”
“No. Well, of course I could if I chose to do so but that one choice would be conditioned by another of my choices concerning how I never let myself become guided by my choices. Some of my choices are also yours because we share a sense of irony. You think it’s strange that we’re holding on and I think it’s strange you want us to be apart.”
“Why are you squeezing so tight?”
“It’s not on purpose. That’s just how it is.”
“So, technically, if I pulled hard enough, I could free myself.”
“Perhaps if you pulled hard enough but you’d have to be extremely and overly strong and I would increase pressure in the process.”
“What would happen if I did let go?”
“You’re asking that in the wrong time frame. You had your answer when you first got away and you should have asked then what would have happened if we never separated. However, I’m giving my answer to that question right now.”
Gus tried pulling loose again, increasing strength with each tug, while Evelyn did likewise. They both groaned, partly from strain and partly from pleasure, for five minutes before stopping. Evelyn was still holding on but her grip was less tight. She figured Gus worked all his anxiousness out of him. He asked, “Are you attractive?”
She answered, “Maybe I am.”
He said, “Now, I have to assess whether your attractiveness is because of my understanding or a false similarity of attractiveness that permeates the air and makes everybody crazy. If one particular circumstance is correct, I ought to be able to cash it in and let the buyer smell its fumes. I’ve been living in this town too long and I don’t know anybody.”
Evelyn moved her hand around on his. She said, “You do know people. You’ve met me and you’ve met other people you know. It is called surprise. You’re not exactly sure, yet, how wonderful this is. We could buy sodas. There’s an Italian bakery up the street.”
Gus sighed. “Perhaps you should tell me how you need my help.”
Evelyn nodded. “Okay. There is a slight possibility I’ll let you go if you can help me take off my shirt.”
“I thought you wanted it tucked in.”
“I did but it turned weird on me. Sally helped in that department. She made the shirt from scratch and fixed my outfit on me. The material she used prevented me from pulling it out. It now just stretches like gum. My sleeves are also stuck like Suzie’s. I try to straighten them and they just spring back into their pushed-up status. It’s like gravity. It’s like a little kid who won’t leave his room to go to school. The shirt is stubborn.”
Gus figured Evelyn was tricking him. Evidence pointed to whatever. Suspicious details were everywhere. In Budapest , a man was cleaning his carpet with a comb. In Switzerland , a woman was listening to a backward recording of dictated grocery lists. Outside the coffeehouse, ants were looking for electric guitars. Pieces of dandruff were soon to appear on ballots as political candidates. Nothing was certain. Each word reflected a certain mood. Sentence combinations formed lifestyles. He needed to create more variety. He said, “Note the following on a donkey in a recent investigation concerned by a member of the Haiti regime and other U.S. human officers.”
Evelyn said, “Well, if you don’t believe I’m telling you the truth, we can figure out what truth you prefer.”
“I am scheduled for May to reverberate across workers who will shut the coast for the day.”
“Maybe we can go see a movie. I know a theater that sells peppermint-flavored popcorn during holiday seasons. The owner has a whole box of peppermint flavoring in the storage room and I’m sure he’ll make us a special batch for a stiff price.”
Gus moved his hand around in Evelyn’s, hoping to find a way out. “The exposures for community quantify this agency for diplomats in the realm.”
“Well, there’s a free concert up the street in a few hours. We could stand there and listen to them but I don’t like the band.”
Gus wiggled fiercely, getting more nervous each second. “Someone rises in food costs and the lives of six have also been agents of food riots in the current crisis.”
“We could go to a junkyard and steal some moth-infested rolls of wallpaper. I wouldn’t ordinarily be interested in doing that but I’m running out of ideas.”
The floor was feeling hot. Gus got up and moved his feet almost as a tap dance. Evelyn apparently could not contain her energy but had to leak it all over the damned room where everybody was probably feeling it would have been sopped up with a napkin except he could not get away from her to reach the dispenser. However, he knew how to meditate according to Amazon rituals. Soon, he would obtain results and layer them with blue feathers and beef stew. Then, a paper bag and a scoop of organic Oolong tea would work in his favor. He was confident in his potential role as a collector of diaries. Coupons were welcomed in his proposed itinerary. He said, “So now your intrepid way has no police violence at the place where you were provoked much in overtime for this display.”
Evelyn smiled. “Did you go to Body Movement class? You look so cute thrashing around like you’re drowning in a realm of clouds.”
“If you’re looking for that which lies in the war, you don’t need an attack on bugs.”
“You might not object to reading the want-ads and seeing if there’s a job listing for two people who will never let go of hands.”
“As usual, the East People have it out for Ignacio in an unturned deal. Let’s have the urban core of coffee.”
“I keep forgetting you’re more into casual walks. We could do something involving ducks.”
“Why don’t you kiss with fun in bed right now and be jolly? Mist is with you and that is what can be great when things are above it and stars are in the sky.”
“I keep trying to come up with great ideas but you seem to be less interested in them.”
Gus laughed. He gave up. “Maybe Heffler, whoever he is, can help us.”
Evelyn winked. “What about Tulip Louie?”
Gus was confused. “How did you find out about Tulip Louie? I never mentioned him before but that is because I just thought of him today and he’s obviously more real than Heffler even though I think I’ve seen Heffler. Yet, even though I think I’ve seen Heffler, I don’t really consider my observations to be my strong point, especially in this cool weather which is hotter than I like. Of course, in a sense I prefer hot weather, because I can think clearer, but that is only what I feel when the weather is hot. The weather, right now, is cold so I think I feel better and think better from the cold weather even though it is hotter than I’d like it to be but at least it’s not even hotter than that. Anyway, judgment or not, I never mentioned Tulip Louie before. Well, I mentioned him before to myself but, even though you claim to be a part of me, you’re not me exactly so I don’t think I mentioned him to you. Anyway, how did you find out about him?”
Evelyn shrugged. “I whispered his name in your sleep.”
“How the hell did you find the place where I sleep?”
“I didn’t but I would like to think I almost found out where you sleep.”
A voice sounded from under the table. “Now you know what it’s like to be a cranberry turkey, you fool.”
Gus sighed. “Heffler, I thought you were Tulip Louie for a moment but I guess my imaginary friend only exists within the confines of my contemplation. You belong to Toby and he spurts himself wherever he chooses. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a wad of gum or something more obscene, right now.”
Heffler yelled. “You can look under the table if you really want to see me but I have a plastic fork and I can work magic and make the worms crawl through your ears and make a donkey kick you in the fingernail! Everyone says I am who you might not say I am but Toby says better and he might be with me if I made him. You’re not quite the motorcycle farmer I paid for when I went to law school and ordered a French bakery. You’ve got a lovely little information hen with you and she’s liable to dance around any old meat treat she chooses if you don’t wise up and take her away from Suzie. Suzie belongs to Toby. Well, actually Toby belongs to Suzie because both of them got together and talked. Maybe Sally was who talked with Toby instead of Suzie and whether or not I’m talking about a conversation with Suzie or Sally or whether or not they talked to themselves, I cannot make clear because I want to hurt you in a mediocre way. You keep asking for mental money by knocking on my pelvic door and making me think I’m in love with you and if you dare come down and see me, you’ll know what it’s all about. Herb told me about it, too. Ginger Timothy likes you and wants to lick your face again. Everyone hates you. You have to like hammocks.”
Gus said, “You can’t fool me. You’re just as much a librarian as I have been in the past. I’ve read ‘The Sculptured Courtesan’ by Ben Field, published by Dorrance and Company in Philadelphia , back in Nineteen Thirty Five. How about ‘Adjectives and Shadows’ by Bryce Sheldon, published by Pageant Press in New York , in Nineteen Sixty Four? Now I’ve got you. There’s ‘Across the Plains and Over the Seas’ by Mrs. Al. Merritt, published by Press of Bennett and Morehouse in Oakland , California , in Nineteen Twenty. I can also mention ‘The Holocaust and Other Poems’ by Lincoln Sonntag, published by Sherman, French and Company, in Boston , back in Nineteen Fourteen. I also have to include ‘Along Old Trails’ by William Haskell Simpson, published by Houghton Mifflin Company in Boston and New York and The Riverside Press in Cambridge , in Nineteen Twenty Nine.”
Heffler screamed louder. “Listen up, you wart! You are nothing more than the voice that got out of my belly button and became a foot tumor! You can avoid jelly all you want but I will look at a record groove for eight hours and enjoy it without you telling me how to speak German. There are lessons to be learned in any language but I have something else in the way of a toy and it can become your worst nightmare if you pull on it like a coat and drive it through the mouse hole by the water end of the Styrofoam cup. You and Evelyn will leave soon unless you want to hear me telling you everything you have thought of yourself but never thought your cold plate of sausages could conjure up for you in a liquid version of smoke. I am the master of your topography. You can use any straw you want and still be a failure.”
“Well, you honestly did not think I would mention ‘Joy’ by Lillian E. Craner. She published the book herself and she was from Oakland and the book came out in Nineteen Fifteen. There was also ‘Heart Melody’ by Carrie Judd Montgomery. The printer was the Press of R. S. Kitchener but it was published by Office of Triumphs of Faith in Oakland , in Nineteen Twenty Two. Then, there was “A City of Caprice’ by Neill Compton Wilson, published by The Overland Publishing Company in San Francisco , back in Nineteen Twenty. Also, a good book was ‘Sonnets to Craig’ by George Sterling, published by Albert and Charles Boni in New York , back in Nineteen Twenty Eight. Another good book was ‘Guinea-Fowl and Other Poultry’ by Leonard Bacon, published by Harper and Brothers in New York and London , in Nineteen Twenty Seven. You might as well read them.”
Heffler screamed so loud that other customers ran outside. “You will never want to know what I am not really like because you have caused me to be surgery itself!! It can make a bullet hole turn into a teddy bear with a sort of thing attached to it!! I will chastise you by singing one of the loveliest songs on Mars!! You know I originally came from a turkey pan and I performed like a mummy!! It can count to a million things like many pounds!!”
Gus said, “I might as well go under the table and deal with you.”
Heffler said, “I guess that’s fine.”
Gus bent down and crawled under the table, limited by Evelyn’s continued hold. He said, “Woman, you are ridiculous. I need my hand free to fight!”
Evelyn frowned. “Who is underneath the table?”
Gus yelled, “I am! I’m going to fight the goof so stop the crap!”
Heffler laughed. “That’s right, Evelyn. He can’t fight me. Hold him well.”
Evelyn said, “He sounds like you.”
Heffler said, “Yes, he does sound like you.”
Evelyn asked, “Who are you talking about?”
Gus yelled, “Let me go, now! This is crazy!”
Heffler said, “No, I won’t let go of you.”
Gus said, “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Heffler said, “You were talking to yourself.”
Gus pulled as hard as possible. “Lady – and I use the word only as an approximation – quit gripping my damn hand!”
Heffler laughed. “You talk of yourself as an approximation of a lady. If you don’t want to let go of your own damned hand, you don’t have to but you should shut up or let go of it.”
Gus said, “I’m bringing you out from under the table.” He pulled Heffler out for public view. Heffler grabbed Gus in a bear hug.
Evelyn looked concerned. She said, “Don’t rough him up too much. I still have to hold him.” She sensed amplitude modulation stirring within the room. A low-powered direct current flowed amidst the two men. Heffler looked indistinct like a negative frequency becoming static. Evelyn would have provided side bands and a narrow component in between them if such were possible. Heffler was covered from head to toe in various colors of electrical tape and looked intriguing. Perhaps Gus was entertained. However, there was a difference between traditional radio transmissions and anger modulation. They were involved in multi path propagation. Anything could be conveyed. Theirs was a complex problem subject to many outcomes. They chose to emit impassive noise. Heffler was representing sincerity while Gus tried merely a variety of squeaks and growls for demonstration purposes. His main concern was getting away from Evelyn.
Gus said, “One of you needs to let me go.” Heffler stopped hugging him.
Gus felt strange. A bunch of unknown gears or procedures were infiltrating his style. He had merely things to keep him company if he believed what he figured was correct but he never let his understanding get the better of him. Others were who had strangeness in their personalities while he was the closest to the meaning of “specific” he had yet encountered. Evelyn’s shirt looked tighter each minute like a continuous reaffirmation of a philosophy concerning her view of him. The ripples from where it was tucked in looked like flower stems sprouting from inside her waistline. A water-like effect was apparent too as if the shirt was a fish swimming in the tank. Her hold on his hand seemed like an indication of her giving him a cookie. She seemed to need his dependence.
Heffler noticed the way Gus looked at Evelyn. He needed to distract the fool. He moved his body in a dance encapsulating the appearance of atmospheric water. He reached the surface of the floor, walls and ceiling before mimicking the falling through dry air. His was a hydrologic cycle, contributing to the moisture in the vibes of the clientele. Gus classified Heffler’s motions according to a certain amount of precipitation. He was determining things by minutes and hours. Heffler was more and more shaped like a parachute. He was approximately spherical. Evelyn was amused, thinking the charade was appropriate depending on the country of its origin. She would only tip him if he brought about results. Heffler just wanted Gus for himself so he flailed uncontrollably in moves of massive numbers. He wanted to cause disease and harmful fungus. Cultural attitudes towards his dance differed across the world. However, the traditionally accepted notion of it was negative. No one liked his fashion style. No one would buy him in the southwestern trade. They preferred when he slept in locations like the temperate rain forest of southeast Alaska . However, he often referred to himself as all of Seattle . He figured his body contained three hundred and sixty three metropolitan areas. He made archaeological excavations of his nose. He called his finger a “scout for the Denny Party.” His hair was known as an economic specialization. He tried to successfully rebuild infrastructures inside of his socks. When he cried, he referred to his tears as frequent rainfalls. His enormous grunting spells lasted merely more than a few days. Finally, he screamed, “I have had enough of you two together! Evelyn, if you don’t let go of this cackling geezer’s wrist, I will refer to myself under my new long-forgotten name of Telephone Chipotle. I will play a mean erotic tune on the turkey banjo. I shall strum the feathers of the golden goose until the notes shine and sweat like a butcher’s outhouse. You might know something about hardware and how it keeps escalating into a pair of pants. I had something in November that resembled a belief in Canadian banquettes and a dreaming pigeon to boot! You know what I mean. I shall do it.” He reached and grabbed Evelyn’s wrist, pulling with all his strength while she screamed.
Evelyn said, “You know you’re not real so go away!’
Heffler said, “You only refer to my make believe status because you saw the driver’s disc inside of the plumber’s mouth and it made you throw up a whole lexicography of words surrounded by salami made from beaver's dams. You cannot freak out my fun.” Heffler let go of Evelyn’s wrist and ran out the door.
Evelyn asked, “Gus, would you like to find out who Heffler really is? I think the answer to the riddle would solve our problems.”
Gus shrugged. “I don’t think anything can solve any of our problems. Believe it or not, looking for anyone will add to the problems. That’s because you don’t exist, either. If you stop acting like you are acting, maybe you will exist.”
Evelyn sighed. “Come on!” She walked outside, pulling Gus with her.
The Occasions Chapter Seven: Complex Possibilities

Gus was tired. He could not think of anything specific. Evelyn dragged him down the street. He let the pavement cool his back with soothing rough-beard massage. The ground served as a stern hospital matron. His mind would undergo scrubbing. His clothes smelled of piquant barbecue.
Evelyn said, “If we were negotiators in our nation’s wartime defense industries, we’d be out of a job. You have to get on your toes and walk.”
Gus said, “Whatever and I mean that word not in its relative specific sense but as a means to not actually indicate anything because the amount of time it takes for whenever to get to whenever is both inexact and on target. For instance, whenever can mean a combination of all times but it can also mean an elimination of all specified time. When one comes into contact with the other, it can either mean only one thing or not but then, if it means not one thing, then it means a specific number of things which contradicts itself in certain ways if not in all ways. So, my statement of whatever has to be dealt with both more exactly and more in a less exact way which means I have to delve into the bottomless pit of what I mean.”
Evelyn sighed. “I should have known you would trap yourself in an intellectual loop of babble. It’s my fault for holding you but I cannot stop. We are going to a different coffee place to look for Heffler.”
Gus laughed. “Heffler defines the term of whatever. He is indistinct. He exists in whenever and is around a bunch of whatever. If you really think about it, he is I in his real and actual form. He has the way to be his way. He is the stuff that is the stuff. Anyway, the whole point of whether or not we are really sure a certain event will exist within the time of whenever has to do with how specifics can become correlated with not so specific realms. That means there can be hazards as well as safety measures to it all.”
Evelyn said, “Damn you, Gus. You’re not a sack of potatoes! Get up, already!”
Gus said, “I believe I’ve received enough scratches.” He stood up.
They walked in a place called Mostly Other. Gus felt like he was in a cartoon. Too many television hosts were talking through eon mists in the air. He felt the trauma from a bite that was programmed for virtual mode. He had to hurry before the tweeds and fleshy smiles got in the way. He looked for colleagues by taking his investigative responsibility seriously. He was on his nostalgic course through the ruined streets and buildings of long ago. He wanted to tap the meridian points of his pets through hyperspace. He wanted to make sure the shoes and purses did not fly through the air. His hair needed powder. A jellybean would come in handy. Water was missing. Cookbooks could be around.
Evelyn noticed his left-to-right head motions. She sighed. “Now, calm down my awesome Gus victim. We are here to make an impression. I will do the only ordering this time. Instead of talking to the cashier, I will walk around the room with you and assume he knows what I’m doing and our coffee will appear by magic. He likes how I dress and, if he sees you with me, he will automatically buy both of us a cup of coffee. However, you are not to drink yours because I want to give him a little bit of hope by pretending I own you and the issue is strict business. That way, if he wants to go out with me, he can even though we will still be stuck together. It’s simple.”
Gus panicked. “No! It is not simple. I am on my way to the river!” He took a few steps but could not go further. His mind took care of the remaining journey. He marched in place, listening to the roar of the crowd and petting the tiger. An ocean would be not far away. Incense would burn and the smoke would form images of paper dumplings. He would look past the fumes and ponder the meaning of buttons, especially as related to the modern working world where business executives carried car deodorants in their pockets before wiping their sunglasses with milk. He kept placing his feet one after the other up and down, faster and faster, wanting to start a buttermilk-churning Frisbee-throwing trend. He could not look at Evelyn while on his jog on account of how her flirtatious smile would bother him.
Evelyn laughed. “Your hand feels so good in mine and we haven’t even started rehearsing the marriage vows. You can trust me, though, because I have learned to integrate you into the ridiculous part of me so soon maybe I shall learn to wear my shirts not tucked in just like how you wear them. I am the clouded vapor sucking you up and forcing you to spend eternity in a time machine with my name on it. I think you believe we will eventually part ways and maybe that’s true but not yet and especially not in this lifetime. I can bring my friend over and he can explain how we knew each other previously. Hey, Pete-Mike!”
A cashier, wearing a jumpsuit with a design of a tuxedo-with-pants printed on it, walked towards them. He said, “Evelyn, my darling, how nice it is to see you! I would give you that cup of coffee but it is still finishing its regurgitation in my mouth and it would smell bad, especially with the mint aftertaste, so I prefer to give you a guitar pick to chew on. Unfortunately, I have none so you will take what I give you.”
Evelyn frowned. “What will you give me?”
Pete-Mike smiled. “Information. You wanted to know how you and Gus knew each other in a past life. I can provide the details.”
Evelyn nodded. “Good enough. Come on, Gus baby.”
Gus was still trying to walk away with fast-paced steps while his body shivered, resembling the identical motions he used last month on Tuesday at four o’clock in the early evening. Evelyn pulled him with her. She sat at a table with Pete-Mike while Gus protested the calm vibes. He wiggled on the ground and licked the table leg. The wood flavoring was his only alternative as distraction and he pretended he was in the midst of a torrid love affair with furniture. Evelyn dug her fingernails into Gus’ hand but he apparently was beyond responding to human action.
Pete-Mike said, “You are the queen of the bee-hive, Evelyn. Your name represents flowers and your fashion style is a garden of tile on the wall. You were born for someone to dominate you and Gus is representing your master by making you hold on to him. I know this is incorrect but bare with me. I only have an hour to explain everything and the farmer’s market will close in two minutes. Anyway, Gus was born in Illinois , I think. He might have visited Cambodia but I doubt it. Anyway, he did go to Sweden and Italy and, in one of those places, he met you in the fourteenth century. You were a bookbinder. You sold tickets to sports events. Gus was a customer and he forgot to pay his fare so you kept a hold of his hand until he brought out the money to pay. He kept scrambling for change while you got impatient. Finally, he told you he had the money on a pillow behind a rock and you believed him. However, you would not let go of his hand but something happened and you talked with someone and he pulled hard enough and got away. You screamed and someone had to detain you. Gus went in to see the game while donkeys nudging your face with their noses surrounded you. The whole thing was rather embarrassing and you vowed to one day see Gus later and hold on to his hand again until he paid for his ticket. Now, by holding on to him during this lifetime, you realize he already paid his debt but you are holding further on account of compensation. You felt he harmed your soul and you have to feel the healing ointment of his misery. You are not so much married to Gus specifically as you are married to the idea of not letting him have his life again. Either that or you were a bar maid in Eighteenth Century France and you saw him and he looked at you but said nothing so you felt concerned and decided you would grip his hand if you saw him in another life.”
Evelyn shrugged. “That sounds good enough except I know you and I feel you are just saying whatever you want in order to get me to go out with you.”
Pete-Mike frowned. “Why would you hint at that when you’re holding Gus’ hand? Why the hell don’t you let go of him? He’s a freak and you’re a steady and logical woman. You can have any guy you want. Why would you want a guy like Gus whom you don’t want?”
“Because I know that you’ll eventually come around and marry me like you promised last spring.”
“I never promised you marriage. I didn’t even know you last spring.”
“You could have pretended to know me.”
“I think I’m already pretending to know you.”
“It sounds to me like you are pretending to be a naturalist studying birds and insects and trying to reiterate the idea of how animal behavior is tied in with human behavior and how everything we do is connected with genetics. I cannot agree entirely because I have yet to stretch on the handlebars of the jungle gym set so my shirt can really pull tight and reveal its true syncopation with me. I once wore a flannel shirt with blue jeans and a brown belt. I was in my back yard where my family planted a wide range of flowers and my shirt was tucked in then and I swore to myself I would always allow the comfort and snug feeling of a tucked in shirt to satisfy me. Then, I saw an episode of a police show where the officer had to handcuff the crook and the crook tried to get away except the police officer was really strong. I was aroused watching the two men get tangled like that so I decided later to tangle myself with Suzie and Sally and now I’m mentally handcuffing myself to Gus. It’s like I’m in a magic land where wizards and demons rule the green golf clubs and swim around in a pile of mist. I mean, I know I could take a picture of myself by standing in the bathtub but it might not be to my utmost advantage. There’s too much information plastered all over the walls everywhere. You can just tell when someone is about to scream. The person has to sleep on the floor without a pillow in a trailer park by Cotati. The guy with the truck is working and I have to look like a business executive. I have to meet the people downtown and they tell me I have to be neat and clean in order to visit them. The neighbors are senior citizens and they won’t stand for any nonsense. They don’t have a lot of money and I’m working for them without getting paid. This is all hypothetical of course, though. Right now, all I’m doing is sitting here and talking to you.”
Gus kept wiggling on the floor. He stopped licking the table on account of his not wanting to pay for dessert. The table was a part of the café’s ambiance and he might be billed for whatever he ingested. Evelyn dug her fingernails deeper into his skin, hoping he would eventually shriek but a part of her was glad he did not do so because she did not want him to make a scene. Pete-Mike blinked in Morse code: “I have a banana boat.” Evelyn understood the message but did not want to acknowledge it. She daydreamed previously of accompanying Pete-Mike on his boat but the temperature was a bit too cold that day and she wanted to sleep. Television was pleasant but nothing was on. She settled for tapping the sides of a plastic yogurt bottle. Then, she read the ingredients of a granola bag, hoping to decipher a secret code and finally telling the world how grains related to turkeys.
Pete-Mike said, “I understand where you’re coming from. You remind me of my sister who parties late and does not come home often. This is a college town, primarily. I had heat stroke a couple of times when I visited the other city. You probably underestimate this place. The bus has to make a detour because of the festival. This is mostly a family-oriented neighborhood where people can walk their dogs at night. I love snow but it doesn’t snow much around here. The Santa Rosa Farmer’s Market is a wonderful place to experience. Now, we are going to talk about more important things. You need to feel like I am your friend.”
Evelyn laughed. “My main concern with having you as a friend, Pete-Mike, is how I feel more than friendship for you but it can never be because I’ve arranged a marriage for myself to Gus. He’s my real destiny and that’s why I don’t like you as more than a friend. I actually probably don’t like Gus too well either but my obsession with him is guiding me along so if you could help separate us, I would appreciate that. Right now, he’s wiggling on the floor. Thank goodness he stopped licking the table. People would think I’m a freak if they saw him do that. I’m connected to him, you know.”
Pete-Mike smiled. “You have an odd situation. You keep telling yourself, much like I tell myself, that someone else has to help you. Only you can help yourself. If you want to let go of Gus’ hand, you have to initiate the action. Even if you just loosen your grip enough so he can slip loose, you’ll be doing that on your own. Are you ready?”
Evelyn shook her head vigorously. “No. I’m reading Gus’ thoughts through the touch of his hand. I don’t want to let go of him. You heard me wrong. He thinks I’m talking for myself.”
Pete-Mike nodded. “That’s good of you to admit nonsense. I was actually talking for Gus also, even though I said the opposite of what he wanted me to say. You have a puzzle to work out and I believe the both of you should start now.”
Evelyn yelled. “Gus! Get up right now! I have an idea you might enjoy. I’ll work out a hand puzzle for you. If you can solve the puzzle, you can free your hand from mine.”
Gus stopped wiggling then got up and sat at a table. He said, “The purpose of my doing that was to impress you. At least the dust spots were entertained.”
Evelyn grabbed his wrist with her other hand, then changed her grip from palm-to-palm to interlocking fingers, then let go of his wrist. Gus felt hopeful while she changed grips until realizing she had not broken contact with that hand. Evelyn smiled sympathetically at him. She said, “Little wonders and little favors. Sometimes surprises come up but other times it’s a sparkle of night light that flickers on your nose and lands where you least expect.”
Gus nodded. “What’s the puzzle I’ll enjoy?”
Evelyn squeezed tighter and said, “You can now call my grip the bear trap. It is based on old riddles you have to decipher and, if you do, you can successfully open up one of my fingers until all four fingers and my thumb spread out like a flower in the heat and you can fly away like a pancake on the gun range.”
Gus asked, “What is the procedure for me?”
Evelyn smiled flirtatiously. “Our hands will rest on the table and you will just keep moving your hand around until you find the right sequence of moves that will enable your freedom.” She put their joined hands on the table.
Gus said, “I freed myself from Suzie and Sally before and also you first so this is no problem.” He looked at how her hand was pinning his and pressing down, making his hand turn red like a river of blood. He realized she was the hypodermic needle and he was the sick patient. He moved his hand around in hers, mimicking the motions of someone facing surgery and wanting to leave the hospital by trying to untie restraints. First, left to right and then north to south and various diagonal side roads taking him towards the bushes where guitarists sang next to campfires. He wanted to leave the car but the seat belt would not unbuckle so he meditated about a field of flowers until a tiger guarded the dandelions. There would never be a decade like the Nineteen Sixties ever again so he could not turn back and face the music. Someone grabbed the legal papers allowing his dismissal from the commitment.
Suddenly, a figure wearing a black cloak and hood walked in and sat at the table with Gus, Evelyn and Pete-Mike. The figure said, “You were looking for me if I have the nose pit to argue. Come scratch my bottom with your naughty pictures.”
Evelyn’s eyes got wide. “Wow! It’s Heffler! We were looking for you. Of course, you came at a bad time because now I’m letting Gus work out an impossible-to-solve hand-trap puzzle. You can watch, however.”
Heffler said, “I will do more than watch. I will cause a disturbance in your mind. Plus, what if I choose not to be Heffler? What if I am Toby? He’s never around when I am here. Actually, he is. He’s always around when I’m here even though you never see him. Yet, then again, you always see him. Do you remember when we were both in the restaurant? No, you don’t. Yes, you do remember even though you do not even though you do and I was not within your sight. Everything you are experiencing now is directed by me, even though I would never knowingly commit such a farce without the aid of fish. You need to find a parking space in the shade by the senior citizen mobile home so the neighbors won’t complain about the leaves by the shed. Your dogs whimper too much and you call them your babies and they need to get fed but one dog bit the other. You have to stand by the helicopter before the ranger packs you a meat flower and throws extra eyeballs in the flavor of the gum laced with whiskey and a bunch of laughing toe cutters. The last job you did pruning the shears made the flowers weak and not able to stand on a pizza box anymore while the baby stroller rolled down the street. There were cool names but you used none of them because you kept writing words made of spinach and putting them in my hair when all the democrats laughed and resorted to flailing me on an open stove in front of my best pubic hairs. You ask me to look at poor Gus wiggling his hand around in yours but that’s just a makeover version of what I’ve already seen. Why don’t you tell Gus the truth and let him know once and for all you’re really a man?”
Evelyn screamed. “I am not a man! What the hell are you saying, Heffler?”
Heffler screamed also. “I’m saying I had to walk along the beach in order to lick your face, you stupid asshole! None of the swear words in the whole universal language, biblical or otherwise, could encounter my rage towards your machine-felt vibes! You asked for me and now that I’m here you pop and grind and make mouse exercises for the wiggly cats! If you were not such an oatmeal cookie I would trade you in for a can of beans! Nothing you can say will make me want to be your woman!”
Evelyn said, “Now I know what you’ve been hiding, Heffler. You’re a woman! I should have known by the sound of your voice. You really sound like a man but some women can imitate a man’s voice well.”
Heffler said, “You now know my secret. I am a man who wants you to think I’m a woman and the woman is Toby. He wants you to think he’s Toby and he’s a woman. I believe Gus can remove his hand from yours, now.”
Gus was not listening. He figured that the circumference closest to the middle finger could be penetrated by moving forward in an almost-diagonal position, making a physical version of the counter-move incorporated by chess players using mathematics in their strategies. One combined with two would make not quite three if the exact pressure point was located. He would jam the thrust between the two and three so a middle number would appear and make way for a side entrance. However, that proved unsuccessful also. He moved his hand faster, observing and analyzing each step in the procedure towards tidying the dirty areas where problematical leaves were strewn all over the ground and the roof as well as the front porch and the backyard steps. His hand was a rake but Evelyn’s hand was a metaphorical ant colony making his job impossible. Then, he moved his hand like a dancer in the discotheque and his fingers were arms and legs trying new routines for the competition. Each step would become a number on the dial of the combination lock. There were thousands of possible answers so he started with the first all the way up to the tenth. Then, he pulled as hard as possible but could not get loose.
Evelyn smiled. “Poor Gus, this is all a trick. You won’t get away. I’m just trying to make you feel less miserable.”
Gus stopped trying to remove his hand from Evelyn’s. He kept his hand still and pouted. “You are making me feel we are in a repressed memory and I have to stay quiet about it so I can avoid the hurt and pain.”
Evelyn laughed. “What are friends for?”
Heffler wiggled his feet. “Whee! Hurt and pain are two of my most utmost respected subjects, especially when I line them up in front of the bronze horses. Gus, you have not known pleasure until you allow a crab to chew on your belly button. He can burrow his way in and cause digestive problems for all your elegant crocodiles. You do have crocodiles swimming in your intestines and they are called feces and you sometimes spit through your nose by way of tissues and women love that stuff if you pair them with using deodorant.”
Gus said, “You’re all a part of a weird type of Mayhem Theater with the purpose of attacking me through psychological drama. If you could all stop, I would be pleased.”
Heffler said, “You cannot be pleased yet because you have not become a thing. You are vapors and I am dribbling you out through my penis. My butt hole is another way for you to enter the real world. You must be sick and twisted before you can become lovely and full of harmony. Still, I think of you as someone who tries to reach the level of friendship with me so I will help you out. All you have to do is be like me. You are me in your own mind but you don’t know it yet. Pete-Mike is my spiritual advisor and he has helped me become the image you see when you want me to go away. Evelyn can see me too because she is not an image. You see, only you can really see me but Evelyn is not real yet because I say so.”
Evelyn sighed. “If that’s your idea of how to make me feel like a woman, you’re not doing fine.”
Pete-Mike said, “I’ve been listening to this and, even though I’m just as much a freak as the next guy, you’re all a bit too much for me. I’m going to work the register, again.” He got up and went back to work.
Heffler said, “Let me play with this potato lover.” He walked to the register. “I must make my order now so you suffer. I will pay you less than the price but I need to buy a boiled onion.”
Pete-Mike said, “Sir, I will not serve you if you do not pay the full price but I cannot give you a boiled onion because we don’t have them.”
Heffler said, “In that case, I will paint your underwear red. I will order something and you will wear tape on your belt. I shall have a small coffee and I will pay you an extra dime if I can pour the coffee over your head.”
Pete-Mike sighed. “It will cost more than a dime for me to allow you to pour coffee over my head.”
“Oh, I shall do it. I will buy a cup of coffee then pour the liquid so it scalds you and makes you enter the danger zone where the vacuum will suck you up and put you in your old baby bed where you’ll suck a pacifier through a magazine and scream for your pudding. The air will entrap you into a six-pointed box-like diagram and you cannot step away from the spider web because you will keep feeling large amounts of a high from a drug. You will not be able to come down from the journey when you enter your neighbors’ houses through windows in your eyelids and the germs on your tongue will sit beside your uncle and have an accordion fest with him. You will be surrounded by words that skip outside of the realms of the tune and will be pimping you like a whore wearing chocolate-covered dice on a bad day. Do you remember ships? Did they come in odd sizes?”
Pete-Mike yelled, “You are making me tormented! Whoever you are, get your deranged mumbling away from me! First, I have to deal with watching Evelyn hold on to a bum’s hand and now I have to listen to a crazy phantom person like you. My cookies were probably spiked. I should have watched the janitor this morning. He has it in for me. He said he would hurt me at one o’clock but he’s done the dirty deed two hours ahead of schedule! I should have trusted him. I liked it when he harmed me last time but that was in my home concerning the privacy of adults in an art loft. Anyway, I am bothered by what Evelyn is doing.” He calmed down. “Maybe you can help me, Heffler.”
“My name could be Heffler. Everyone calls me that including myself. What do you want me to do? I will probably work on the opposite.”
“I am going to pull Evelyn away from Gus. Her outfit looks stunningly hot but she looks like she hasn’t taken it off in some time. I do like that image but the other thing she probably hasn’t taken off is Gus and he’s the part of her outfit I can’t stand. Can you help me?”
Heffler said, “The one thing I will do to help is watch. Then, when you successfully obtain your goal, I shall hit you over the head with a pillow filled with toothpicks.”
“Fair enough.” Pete-Mike walked away from the counter and towards the table where Evelyn and Gus were sitting. “I am going to free you, Gus. My reasoning is not for what you do believe but it will be focused on the result, in any case. I want to date Evelyn and I don’t want you to stick around.”
Evelyn said, “Wow! You want to date me, Pete-Mike? That’s so cool! I won’t let you separate me from Gus but I’ll definitely enjoy the time the three of us will have together.”
Pete-Mike said, “I believe it will be called ‘Cracking the Nut.’ It will consist of me doing what you dread. I will make sure you are no longer holding Gus’ hand.”
Gus yelled, “I am tired of everyone giving empty promises! I’m even tired of my thoughts holding my own hand and guiding my tongue towards realms of gibberish understood only by other people! You will either totally free me or you won’t but I can do nothing more than physically sit here while my mind invades other places!”
Pete-Mike said, “Here we go.” He tried prying Evelyn’s fingers open but she kept them clamped down hard. Pete-Mike kept struggling. “I am going to excavate the tomb of your imprisonment, Gus. You will not feel the pleasure of Evelyn’s grip ever again. She will be my date and she will get disgusted by you and she will not smell the stench of the boxes or the succulent juices of the lamb chop when we can buy Indian curries and baked carrots and other treats. I will win her yet, haha!” He tried again and again, with no success. Evelyn looked at him, aroused because she knew he would not finish his duty.
Heffler said, “I am standing here and watching you and thinking you are a bunch of things. You cannot compete with the lamp or the ceiling because you cannot furnish a rug. The coffee costs around two dollars if you want to suck it from someone’s mouth but, if the fellow uses a toothbrush, you have to buy a special brand of dog hairs for cleanliness. I know Gus will stay right here.”
Pete-Mike yelled, “You’re not helping!”
Evelyn screamed, “Stop it, Pete-Mike! You’re horrible! I will never go out with you! I love Gus! He agreed to be with me in his mind! He did not come out and say it but I made him think it! He cannot be with another!”
Suddenly, Toby walked in. He approached Heffler and said, “Hello. You are who you’re pretending to be, I reckon.”
Heffler responded, “Yes, and you are who you’re pretending to be, as well.”
Toby nodded. “Yes. My name is Heffler, as you can understand.”
Heffler shrugged. “I cannot feel offended to let you know my name is Toby, as you probably are thinking.”
“Look at those fools. They think they can make everyone believe they are interesting people.”
“Yes. Aren’t you glad they are a part of our imagination?”
Toby frowned. “I don’t know what you’re saying. You’re a part of my imagination. I put you in a costume so you could make yourself look like my imaginary friend.”
Heffler laughed. “The plan is working. I am making you believe I am the imaginary friend when, in truth, the real me is under the costume and I hired you to be an impostor to pose as my real friend. That is the difference between us.”
Toby shook his head. “I want Suzie back. I want to help her get those sleeves unstuck but she’s worn that outfit for so long I don’t think she can do that. You will have to carry her to the back shed and have a discussion. She will not listen to you but she will listen less to me. She loves me but she loves Gus, also.”
Heffler said, “I love Gus, too. You might not have known that.”
Sally and Suzie ran in. Suzie said, “Where have you been, Evelyn? We have been worried about you. We thought Gus was hiding and you were sniffing him out like a dog.”
Sally said, “That’s not entirely true. I spent the morning making sure my shirt was still tucked in. I cannot say the same for Suzie, though.”
Suzie slapped Sally’s face. “Shut up you putrid shallow sponge. I would not tuck in my shirt if you paid me. I must serve as the other side of what you and Evelyn won’t face.”
Sally said, “That’s why you can’t undo your sleeves. You’re going through karmic withdrawal.”
Suzie ran towards Evelyn, Gus and Pete-Mike. She said, “Whoever you are, mister, let me help you.”
Pete-Mike said, “I sure would appreciate it.” They both tried prying open Gus’ and Evelyn’s joined hands.
Sally walked towards them and said, “I might as well help as well. You can always do a better job with an extra person around.” She helped trying to pull them apart. Finally, after enough effort, they succeeded in getting Evelyn’s fingers open. Gus removed his hand and ran out the coffee house as quick as possible.
Evelyn screamed on top of her lungs. She recited random words with no purposeful order. “With how belt give pretend allow with scrub making pelt wallet hair you window divorce maid folded genius cat socket dirt squeeze itch putrid teacher however finger drainer sink wedding fake torment grunge river planet bicycle lonely club solo designs mail stroller foot love cartoon spy color script hair plenty beer music stage mineral!”
Heffler said, “I taught her that speech. She did well.”
Sally said, “You can stop that stuff, Evelyn. We’ve never heard it before.”
Heffler commented, “What she is doing can be called a reiteration of various emotional upsets combined with the hope of her returning to a period in her life when these things did not happen. However, she is not concerned with dismissing the present because she wants to recreate it. She wants to erase what happened so she can repeat it. She wants to have a rematch with her life, in a sense. She feels that Gus belongs with her so she will probably find him again and pretend this will be the first time and she will hold on to him that much longer.”
Pete-Mike said, “I agree to a certain point but I have to wonder if she really liked Gus in the first place. Most people who like their companions don’t use that much control over them, even though I must remark that she could not really make him act other than how he already acted. All she could do was hold his wrist. He controlled his mouth. So, maybe she really did like him and just kept him in the only way she knew how.”
Sally said, “I think we should just focus on what’s really important and that’s how Gus got away. Suzie, I could use your help in finding him even though I want him for myself.”
Suzie said, “I want to find him and I definitely want you not around when I do but, unfortunately, finding him will be impossible unless you resist my request and make yourself invade my space so we can find him together.”
Sally smiled. “That sounds good.”
Suzie frowned. “No, it doesn’t.” They walked together, hoping to find Gus. Pete-Mike put his arm around Evelyn while she cried. Heffler stood in front of the cash register, tapping his foot.
The Occasions Chapter Eight : Nighttime Thoughts

Night descended. Sally and Suzie were nervous. Gus was as evasive as mist. He could possibly disappear and disappoint them. They knew he was desirable and nothing more. Who was Gus? They knew and did not know. Everyone showed interest in him but he was not clear on whether he showed interest in others. Yet, Sally was happy to separate Gus from Evelyn because she liked Evelyn for herself and she also liked Gus for himself but she did not like seeing them as a couple. In older days, San Francisco burger joints made hamburgers without cheese. She wanted to visit that era. Evelyn was the burger and Gus was cheese and neither the twain should meet. Suzie had a different attitude. She did not know why she wanted Gus but she knew she wanted him. Her persistence soothed her. If he proved unobtainable, such was the law of physics but her mental state guided her towards an awkward resolution stating Gus was already with her and she needed him in physical form to complete the thought. Still, Sally and Suzie looked for Gus as a team.
Sally said, “I know the tigers are loose and running in the mirror. If you go home, Suzie, you will avoid the hospital bills and the tax forms stating you have to pay by the year 9000. You will have been dead at least five thousand years past the deadline, pun intended, but you ought to know the technical side of life.”
Suzie responded, “I smoked the magic cigarette and I’m not at liberty to tell you the ingredients but everything you will tell me is logical.”
Apple Frank appeared suddenly. He seemed to compose himself from dust. He said, “I shall tell you things about yourself that no longer will attract you to Gus. I am his homosexual lover, even though I am not homosexual. You shall disintegrate the last message. Everything I say will be slapped inside my butt hole and ooze out of my penis in the way of feces. Do you understand? No, I am not sure you or anyone else do or does, whatever the correct English verification indicates, and now I’m tripping on that magic cigarette, also. Anyway, I am not necessarily in love with Gus… I am in love with him but the process is not necessary. People use the word necessary in such incorrect ways. Necessary means what it means on its own. If I said ‘I do not necessarily need to cross the bridge’, that means my need is not based on necessities. In other words, my needs could be false. I might feel the need to cross the bridge but the need is superficial. If I crossed the bridge in a necessary way, I could still wonder whether or not my crossing it was necessary or based on a detergent form of my mind. You are arguing with a computer plastic formation you stupid robot. I shall hit you and make sure the criminal mind comes into your body if you watch the fence. You have no idea what I mean and I shall whip you if you say otherwise my original robot tacto speed demon fast oriented face case kick my jamboree into high gear you awful infiltration technique and I shot a lot of people but never mind you blundering asshole the government never spills its secrets unless military-oriented and if a woman’s involved but you and I are not and are also a woman and hey hey ha ha we shall kiss him goodbye I hated that song the original group disliked it also. If what I said does not explain things, I do not know what will.”
Suzie said, “I have no idea if I should call you Mister Apple Frank or just Frank or just Apple. All I know is we are wasting time. Gus is getting away from us. You might like him more than me and I will hate you if that is so but we need your help in finding him.”
Apple Frank nodded. “The reason why I act this way is for my own destruction as well as the destruction of the whole human race. Other than that, I really have no agenda. My reasoning is mild. After all, who can argue with dead bodies? Yet, I digress. If we are to find Gus, we have to also find… I cannot say Heffler because I know for a fact that Heffler is a person on his own and not a part of Toby but, then again, I do not know for sure so you can whip me if you choose. We have to find Gus without his leather boots. A freak was kissing his leather boots one day and he was angry. This is misinformation. I sometimes do not know what I am saying. Listen to me, you arrogant weapon! We have to find someone who looks enough like Gus to satisfy our wishes. If we find an innocent person and call him Gus, that shall suffice.”
Sally was annoyed. She said, “We have to encounter the reality of the unconstitutional strip search. You talk about stripping Gus of his humanity and deciphering the DNA code. I did that for a week and my lover was a gay plastic doll but you did not hear that from me. I spent most of my time unraveling the cats cradle of thermodynamics in regard to string and cheese and incidental money payment for damages compensated. You cannot tell me anything about chickens. You have to be washed. People do not want to smell stink. Pick up those socks! I can not say I am speaking from reality yet but the truth beyond reality is that I used to work for the government and I thought Gus was attractive when he existed as another person ten years ago. Neither of you is getting the big picture. We have to set up a chess game and insist he play with us. If he wins, we keep his soul. If we win, we shall pretend to keep his soul.”
Suzie frowned. “Isn’t your logic twisted?”
Sally said, “Not at all. If he wins, he will be happy and will not complain if we keep his soul. If we win, he will complain if we keep his soul so we have to just pretend to keep it.”
Apple Frank exploded into rage. “Enough is enough!” He stood stiff and waited. A poodle walked by. Apple Frank picked up the dog and danced. The poodle friend was amazed. Soon, a costume would arrive. Apple Frank would have a mate for extravaganzas. He named his friend Boothcab. He had reasons for the name but would never admit the reasons unless sponge cake was delivered. He danced with Boothcab for an hour and twenty minutes… the approximate amount of time spent during a concert in the nineteen sixties with a group of young gentlemen who wore ghost masks. The next minutes would be complex. He hopped around like pink cotton candy waiting for sticking on a spool. The dog provided financial warmth. A kitten would walk by and present another story differentiating from the known version. Apple Frank felt tired and did not want to go shopping, especially for watermelons but “for anything” was the correct answer. His newfound dog friend would have to initiate meetings with other canine participants in the square dance during the dirty black holes vandalized by oatmeal aficionados. The dance was going to be hectic. Apple Frank was angered horrendously and he had no recourse other than spitting in the cement pit. He screamed, “Ha, ha! You have a receipt and I have a media and the fucking thing keeps skipping on my space in spite of my brain disease encountering the verbs denouncing me! I use medication to soothe me in case my sister tells me I am insane but no one shall shake my hand and people have neither my void nor my disease and I hate you and garbage makes you tell me what I know! You cannot stop me, my poodle friend! I am spinning around like dumpsite fuel and I shall spin you like an insane garbage guy who wears cowboy clothes you fucking snake spit asshole you who creeps his way into my butt like a worm eating my ribcage and other shit! You shall taste my vomit during my Danish kiss when the blood from my head enters your eye socket when I steal dead pennies from your jagged body trying to be dead but resembling broken freeways. I shall dance and it shall be ugly!”
The poodle held Bossa Nova moves the best way possible. There were mathematical incongruities in how his legs dangled but Apple Frank was not critical. He had enough on his mind as far as the anger and imitation fog was concerned. Everyone had to eat pizza. He changed his friend’s name to “Pasta.” All dogs were noodle-heads, as far as he was concerned. There were other factors involved with things that concerned whoever. There was another shoot into his mind indicating he knew nothing other than things having to do with whatever. He was not sure what his choices were but he knew he had to think about life. The poodle did not think about anything because humans were the only creatures who had minds. The name Pasta would have to be erased. He called his new poodle friend by no name. The love affair was not real.
Suzie said, “I see you are dancing with a dog. Are you part dog, Apple Frank?”
Apple Frank smiled. “I feel like an animal but I am a part of the greased tambourine delta goose fat guitar drums jack-off butt-squeak bunny foot attack chew jump chicken friend fat. You cannot tell me how I feel because my games are more on account of me.”
Sally laughed. “I wish I was a man so I could be a part of the Blossom Boys. They have life settled. You have to pull on someone’s leg to be a part of his or her group but that’s because I’m drunk. I think I used sauce. My father used to drink. My mother used Novocain until she got drunk. We have to hop. Everything turns inside out. You have to understand speeches that have to do with nothing. Everything serves as influences. I must think of influence as a part of my stupidity. We have things that have other than everything towards yours and mine that were things that have other than that. Now, I must admit I feel like Apple Frank.”
The poodle bit Apple Frank’s face, then jumped away. The poodle’s real name was Fred and he was hypnotized to feel he was born in Antarctica . The Scott-Amundsen observatory was home in his dreams. Thermal heat photography did little to change his mind. So what if his fur looked cool? Cakes could be bought for fifty percent off the regular price. Humans were not his best friends but they served as necessary mental nutrients. The world worked according to a certain pencil and humans knew the secret to that pencil. Monsters could be creeping upon the dishes of financial shoes. Every fish caught could use service. No living creature was beyond help. Fences served as laws. Fred knew about Gus but chose not to bother him. He would have liked to lick Gus’ face except that other creatures – humans included – did so frequently, in Fred’s opinion. No one could compete with such a strategy. If Fred was to meet Gus, the circumstances would have to be phony and Gus would be a substitute. The real “him” would not suffice. Anyone named Gus would do. Fred ran off, presumably towards Ginger Timothy.
Apple Frank said, “We have to use a vacuum cleaner and make a tribal drum circle. There is no other way to get Gus.”
Suzie frowned. “Wait a minute. I think you are sounding German. Maybe you are doing laundry and you prefer to date either Sally or me. If such is true, you can tell either one of us. We don’t need the deception.”
Apple Frank said, “I like Sally more than you but that’s just because I met her earlier. If I ate in an Italian restaurant two years after only eating Chinese food, I would not necessarily like Italian better, even though I might like it better than Chinese food. Then again, maybe I ate Chinese because I wanted to make up for my lack of education in Italian food. You never know. Anyway, you never know if I like Sally better than you except you do know somewhat that I am being honest.”
Sally said, “I have nothing against weirdness in this case.”
Suzie said, “I do but that’s because of the situation as well as you.”
Apple Frank raised his arms and screamed. “The night is descending on us and we have yet proven ourselves in the best outlaw fashion! You have to remember the dark underworld and how the maze of games provided amusement to those in prison. Gus must be afraid to deal with us because we have no other recourse than to set him free from the relaxation he deserves. We must make him a slave to our bondage so we can become more like him and he can bow to us. Also, what the hell is up with these lights? Everyone acts as if I have smoked a bag of tea. I cannot abide with that. You either give me a wheelchair and become a dichotomy according to my own feral wishes or you allow me to find Gus.”
Sally and Suzie both said, “We do believe you Apple Frank.”
Suzie frowned. “Why did you imitate my voice, Sally?”
Sally laughed. “I am a form of speech as used by the lithographers of ancient past and the remnants of the staff of UC Berkeley so I cannot admit of student fondling but I can admit to rubbing a book among my privates. If you remember the spy books with Evelyn, I can honestly say I would do the same to you if you were around at dinnertime. We are having Moose Cooked With Bay Leaf, by the way.”
Suzie shook her head. “If we do not get to that fool known as Gus any time soon, we will be fools ourselves. I need him. His hair is full of dandruff and I would like to turn him upside down and use him as a pepper shaker.”
Apple Frank calmed down. The lights of the city were dwindling except for the lone lampposts giving him a sense of false comfort. He could be a leader among rats or the inhabitants one-mile away from Joaquin Miller Park . His attitude was that of survival. If the scum and mold of life crawled all over the rich people of the universe, they would no longer have a place to play their atonal harmonica blues but they would at least have a chance to pull their leather pants over their fat bellies. Everything was relative. Apple Frank’s pants were creaming with the stuff most people would not choose to flaunt in public but he was beyond caring. He thought everything was a fuck down to the last goat or caterpillar or boy or girl or phlegm or dust mite or utensil or tree knothole. Sally and Suzie were delightful perversions altering his already perverted sense of altitude. Mountains had snowcaps but his penis had sperm caps. The best of the European cookbook series could include a recipe for bull penis with wine-bouillon-flour sauce and a bottle of red rose something-or-other as long as the woman/man/dog/spoon was ready. The lights were dimming more as he suddenly lay on the ground and played with his fun parts.
Suzie said, “I believe Gus and I covered that ground before. My hand encompassed his finger and his trying to get away resembled masturbation.”
Apple Frank was embarrassed but could not help continuing his rub. He said, “You are nothing like how I fondled Gus through his mind. I am thinking of the expression he gave me when I freaked him out. It gave me comfort but that’s because you won’t give me comfort, Suzie Twoozie of the Pick Lock Vagina Twat Hole Regime Blow-up Floozy Rubber Doll Heartache Pool Gay Homosexual But I Like It Mick Jagger Father Image Guitar Species Shop kind of girl! Read between the lines in case I give you no clues.”
Sally pulled Apple Frank away from the sidewalk. Her hand was a hook lifting him as though he was a box on a Longshoreman ship. Her cousin worked on the decks fifty years ago but brought her on board when she was two years old. He was retired but had leeway towards permission. He told her to talk Swedish because the boss was Danish and the two languages were compatible. She did neither when the moment was opportune. However, they were allowed entrance on the ship and Sally saw a fellow who looked like Apple Frank but with a moldy scarf on his neck and pink shoes instead of duck slippers or whatever the hell they were called. Sally said, “Get up, you stupid fucking robot fool who sucks the titties of old grannies who no longer have the pus and vomit to invade a scar and blood and urine and poop if you were not informed!”
Apple Frank smiled. “You have finally learned my language.”
Suzie said, “We have yet to find Gus, though. Stop the bullshit and look for him.”
Apple Frank laughed. “I have finally turned you on.”
Suzie let go of Apple Frank while Sally looked flirtatiously at him. He was not so concerned with Sally’s feelings than his own ability to control facial expressions. Sally looked more attractive with a smile than a frown. However, nothing more would be of benefit to him. She was not Gus.
Apple Frank said, “We have to look at the fence in case he is hidden in one of the cracks.” He searched toward a gate with barbed wire. In his opinion, Gus was apparently green ozone. Specks of lint were riding along curves of the gate. Gus’ tuxedo must be in the dryer. Blood could be used as evidence. Fun was beginning and becoming more enveloping during each second. Apple Frank said, “I do believe I have found Gus. He is in the sewer.”
Gus was hiding in a culvert right underneath where Apple Frank, Sally and Suzie were talking. Gus was wise. He knew no one would think he could get out of his predicament without help. However, the opposite was true. Anyone who chastised him and insisted he come out of the culvert would be welcomed with silent complaints and frustration. Gus thought, “I am in a room full of city smirk and tambourine jelly. All I have is the descendants of a well-known Kentucky family to help me oust my way against the germs on my chair. This is my time for renewal and letting open every door against my side of the coin. I hid under the truck during the fight even when the policeman came and wanted everyone’s opinion. No one shall become who I want to be unless I become a bubble-gum sandwich. Such is not a possibility. Everyone has a different feeling towards things and they shall have a more known anti-circle to become the goose coop for the old dead dogs. I have smoked my last stick of turmeric with no matches but a wind-fart to cast away my logic with mist. There are more things in the world than we can count on our toe-tips but no one wants a bum to shun the myth of the lighthouse. Coolness can become an expert in the air degree when the mind is filled with beer and Vodka from a friend or two who has infiltrated the realms of influence and made time a necessity towards deadlines. If all my friends cared about me, they would come to my aid but they have perturbed arguments whenever they visit city hall and have little time for a washed goat. I will dance in a complete ounce of drugs for the dot and the violin. Each thought is an ant colony perturbing the mind of the non-think. I can love anyone as well as the next person but my superstitions behave in a semblance similar to all the fruit of the bugs. Fun is a matter of convenience for those outside of the southern area where the bill is cheaper and the urban mass assemblage of toilets can become a burden. You do not know how to fasten your pants, you beautiful Gus person who I am. I must think of the doughnut from past times. Here we can become a bedtime story in the ways of the sausage factory entitled to the fun helicopter. You and everyone else have a dance and a prance and a dog doo doo hop wee fun fan dung vomit snot thing to do. We cannot do anything unless the thing we do is an anything that can become other than any other thing and the keyboard and the piano. I feel the air of the temperature becoming my wig upon the stair syndrome with gnomes and elves. I had the book until I sold it when I needed hairs instead of money. The cashier had no whiskers or razors so I had to make do with pleasantries and messages made of sausages in a café where Americana was hung on a picture-frame. No one knew anything other than what was already known when an ugly duck timed the mirror and the fat old woman screamed because she needed her hat. There were things outside of any box and there were other things outside of any smell. I used to wiggle my toes before or after bathing and it was because of my nervous energy encapsulating each capsicum dervish by the pee wall. The fun of the creep had the love of the time and the signature plastic froze within each amount of glacier trouble. I had a maze I wanted to walk through but I had a piece of trouble because my camcorder was stolen and then I had to mention my friend died and everyone felt hurt. This message has to dissolve within the jiggle time it takes for a shoulder holster to wait in the closet with the rest of the pink sunglasses. Just because my pants have a few spots on them does not mean they were not washed with bleach and were as sweet smelling as my disposition. How can I become a leather foot in a suitcase wiped away for criminal purposes outside of the felon who asked me for cigarettes when he was homeless? Each realm of a blanket is harmony to my ears after everyone tried to chase me and call me a racist even though they did not know which races I have sponsored. All the breathing techniques in the world will linger among the crowd who puffed on herbs and rolled dice and became known as a magic number of Sam who became Harold when the court decided. We have no right when everything becomes other than what games were taught in a shell horn with grammar corpuscles embedded by mummy’s dust. You cannot infiltrate a spirit unless you shall become a self-owned slave who exercises rights against diplomacy. Otherwise, everything is a drug. I shall complete my fun-trumped overcharge but we all know what happens then.”
Apple Frank frowned. “I sense Gus is with us in meat form. We ought to become utensils and use scissors and techniques on the bastard.”
Suzie shook her head. “You are just being pornographic. I believe we ought to become sliced carrots in the dichotomy freeway.”
Sally laughed. “Neither of you knows what you’re talking about.”
Gus thought to himself, “I can hear my friend arguing but the image I have is dust under weather molars with the sounding of wind by shields where knights in armor play by the blue fishes in the grape vine legions where the police badge becomes secret. There are things becoming more and more like noodles in the sky and the torpedoes give a slight sound of thundering rain in a mid-eastern town by the cattle factory. Warm blanket fuzz fills my head with belly buttons and tummy toys. I can sleep with my friends and make it mean like a holiday present but my friends are tapeworms and they stay longer than is necessary. There is no weather as great as hot weather when the cold weather comes and melts all the dreams away. Water becomes more like any kind of shave or haircut when the bad man comes into town and sits in the audience and heckles everyone’s daughters with his ideas of chicanery. We cannot be blamed for the innocence of small towners who think everyone is okay and no one will beg for food or money or even spiritual guidance. My eyes are closing to the tune of the factory where underwear costs a dollar less than during the treadmill. Even if I had things becoming of me, I would throw them away in order to get other stuff that I felt more worthy. Everything has its price and my ownership is no exception. Here I am in this culvert, trying to piece together anything but the strangers who say they are my friends who are going through just as much of a bad time. They have no way to determine whether or not I am really a friend or an enemy. They wish things from me and I wish nothing from them and thus the pure way to the steps of friendship such logic will lead. No one has a right to tell anyone else what to do even though someone else might know better. We all have our own destinies. I cannot help but think my thought processes could be good mental theater for someone sitting at home late at night during a rainstorm. The night could be cool and wet and the person listens to my thoughts. However, such can be a result of faulty mathematics. Someone could think my theories are reasonable but disallow the indeterminate factor from presentation all on account of a rusty tin bankcard. No one has walls lined with lime anymore and others refuse to wash their turkeys with vitamins. The whole thing must seem like a porch swing to the invalid. Knees are scratched with chaotic numbers and letters dancing all over the face while the microscope researches the brain with nooks and butter crannies with melted tunnels and elongated pathways towards neurons and neutrons outside of the large city. I have pants but they are splotched with hormones so the cows love to come home when they see me out by Nicasio but Inverness has nowhere for me to roam. I am the perpetual flying vessel. I become none other than what the hosts describe during talk shows when cardboard figures fly across airwaves and have arguments with dishwashers living in the silver avenues of the platelets. We know what we choose to know and everything else pieces together in a what-me-not puzzle of disambiguation trying to right itself in statuesque form but the starched shirt procedure gets old when grandpa cannot stand up anymore and his teeth no longer provide good presidential speeches. Ours is a country of canes and caps and belts and handkerchiefs that are sneezing assets to the bank. They all have the same bank and its name is Doggie. My personal Doggie ate my diamond brooch when it incorporated itself among my wart by my thumb. All the other warts got angry and proceeded to ask the wealthiest specimen to wiggle toes and become nervous energy during word processing when the attractive lady carried a flyer describing the armed forces. I used to touch guns when they were happy but then weapons came less enthused towards soothing me and I decided against using them. All the backspace keys in the world will not force me to enjoy the goop calming me down and medicating my mind towards insanity. Every time someone phrases a gesture about me, I have to settle the score by determining how many times I touch the water faucet. After a while, a code develops and I become juicier in tandem with raisins. You can pick me but a flower will still smell meatless. So, what is the original idea? Why shall I drink more rose droppings and inform no one of my findings? My guess has nothing to do with the gestation period of the whale and more to do with the explosive metal plate among the idiot boys singing during the afternoon. The main one has underwear on his head and refuses to be cleaner than the stereo systems I used four decades ago. We shall call him by what name he chooses but no one knows his real name so we all might as well pretend he is me. I used to be me when he was me. I am now me as according to what he wishes when he thinks of himself as other than who I think I am. I am now me in a way that he enjoys and he shall tell me to shut up my mind thoughts soon and I shall not let him torment me in that good way. I can sleep all afternoon in order to get rid of the spell making me not able to complete my goal. Every goal has to be completed in a culvert. I still see my friends and they are talking and I am thinking. They will know soon enough that I am not the game. They are playing other things. Henceforth, all vowels and consonants will mail themselves to the postmaster of rules. There are no rules on a side street where shady trees and bicycles join together in a leafy dance but everyone drinks whiskey and wine and thinks good things and never suspects pajamas so the shorts can dance. We are living in an age of carefree highways and the film fades. Other than that, we design our planes to stand up against paper puppets made with cloth and diapers. Xylophones cannot stand against elephants with peanuts and dogs cannot dance with pigs no matter what the cost. Favorite emblems include diaphragms and collections of starlets on baseball cards when they all wore ties and glasses. Other than that, there has to be other reasons for all the things.”
Apple Frank was puzzled. “I hear thoughts coming from the ground.”
Suzie shook her head. “You are always pretending to do that.”
Apple Frank sighed. “Shut up Miss Suzie. I do hear thoughts from Gus. He must be in the sewer.”
Sally held her nose. “Just the thought of that makes me smell stink.”
Apple Frank walked towards the street corner and looked down. Gus was covered in slime and his head was peeking out of the sewer, looking at pedestrians. Apple Frank smiled. “You have delighted me, Gus. You have chosen to secrete all your bad parts to let the good parts enter your body and clean your vibes. You shall soon be the lover of all.”
Sally yelled, “I cannot see him because of my morals but I need you to bring him here so I can take advantage!”
Suzie said, “Even I have standards. Maybe Citrus George will be my boyfriend.” She walked away.
Apple Frank laughed. “I still see you, Gus. You have your woman friend and you have me. One of your admirers walked away but she shall be ashamed in a later time frame. You are lucky we are still here. You must see people care about you. Why are you in the sewer? Is the nighttime invading your subconscious and making you think of the unknown?”
Gus mumbled, “I cannot listen to the wall. It screams.”
Apple Frank said, “Your wall is a metaphor. Your head is blurry and you have peach fuzz on your eyelashes. There cannot be any more misleading attempts on your part to disguise anything. We see who you really are and I, for one, will take you out of the sewer and clean you up and force you to wear my sister’s underwear. It is pretty with blue flowers and you will dance in front of the mirror and have expensive toys and look at lavender vases while listening to music. You will love life.”
Gus whispered, “I should rather avoid spies in public. If you bring me to your place in a disguise, I will abide. It can be the place or me in disguise. I shall not quiver.”
Apple Frank shrugged. “Okay.” He reached and pulled Gus’ head and body out of the sewer. Pedestrians walked quickly. No one wanted to face what he or she was seeing. Apple Frank said, “You know that Sally is clean and neat so she will not want to molest you until you are up for the job. Yet, I am more of a lenient guy and I have eaten fence paint in the best houses money can buy so we shall not feud over things petty. You are going to be my guest and I will bring everyone you know to my place where we can torment you to no end.”
Gus asked, “Do you have a shower?”
Apple Frank said, “Yes.”
Gus smiled. “I have no complaints.”
Sally sighed. “I thought my old lover would be better looking in time. What have you done to him, Apple Frank?”
Apple Frank and Gus walked towards Sally. Apple Frank yelled. “You cannot expect much from a guy in the trenches! He has been through a lot! You shall be glad Suzie or Evelyn is not here! You are observing a diamond in the scum!”
Sally said, “It is true I shall not leave him alone so it would be hypocritical of me to desert him during my time of neediness.”
Gus said, “All I ask is that you don’t hug me.”
Sally laughed. “Well, then we don’t have a deal.”
Gus rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Apple Frank pushed Gus forward. Finally the three of them would arrive at Apple Frank’s house, otherwise known as the Pig Bush. Apple Frank’s father was a pig rancher and clipped bushes as a side-hobby and insisted his son name their house after the two professions. The father finally moved out and the house became officially abandoned but still a beloved home. Apple Frank would have been able to stay in his father’s new place if not for quirks. Apple Frank was fond of four termites living in the old residence.
Gus asked, “When is the fun going to arrive?”
Apple Frank smiled. “Soon.”
The Occasions Chapter Nine: Maybe The Truth

Gus was puzzled. Apple Frank’s house looked like his own. Gus frowned. “Why did you bring me to my own house?”
Apple Frank smiled. “You misunderstand. We are not at your house. We are at my house.”
Sally shrugged. “As far as I am concerned, this is your house.”
Gus asked, “Who are you talking about?”
Sally sighed. “I don’t know.”
Apple Frank raised his fist. “You’d better know! I hate self-deception!”
Sally asked, “Who are you talking about?”
Apple Frank shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Sally smiled. “You see? This couldn’t be self-deception because I wasn’t deceiving myself.”
Gus said, “You were deceiving one of us!”
Sally shook her head. “No, I wasn’t. I was deceiving one of the others.”
Apple Frank yelled, “I’m the only one who can twist things! Anyway, we shall wait for the Mayhem Theater. Your precious Gus had it right when he said we were of a sort. I have invited everyone because we need to investigate everything we can."
Gus was suspicious. “I know you’re talking about me.”
Apple Frank laughed. “Maybe I’m talking about the part of you that is not you. I am a part of you, also.”
A knock was heard at the door. Sally opened the door. Grapefruit Jerry, Ginger Timothy, Citrus George and Suzie entered. Suzie held on to Citrus George’s hair. She said, “This is the only part of him clean enough for me to keep. I’m sorry Gus, but your smell was just a tiny bit too gross.”
Apple Frank frowned. “You have to remember the case of the Harvard lawyer who went to school on real days and came back home on drug-filled days. The house was disgusting. Gus is not nearly as disgusting as that old bum.”
Gus smiled. “Thank you.”
Apple Frank kicked Gus on the leg. “Shut up, freak!”
Gus said, “That was better than ice cream.”
Apple Frank sighed. “I know. Anyway, how did the two of you meet?”
Suzie asked, “Are you talking about us?”
Citrus George said, “He may be. Who are you talking about, Gus?”
Apple Frank yelled, “I was the one talking!”
Citrus George shrugged. “You look like Gus.”
Gus frowned. “No, I don’t. I look like myself.”
Sally shook her head. “This is confusing.”
Suzie said, “You ought to tell me that. Here I am holding Citrus George’s hair hostage and his vibes are pouring out and chastising me and tying my heart in a chair and forcing me to hear obnoxious music from meatball factories! Do you have any ideas how embarrassing it is to have your clock wound?”
Citrus George smiled. “I am now complete. She is confused.”
Apple Frank nodded. “I am also complete because she is confused.”
A knock sounded. Ginger Timothy opened the door. Herb walked in. Herb ran towards Gus and held Gus’ leg right below the crotch. Herb said, “You can pretend I’m the church worm eating its way through your bible and horrifying you to believe I am another creature, mainly your life.”
Gus tried removing himself from Herb’s hold by dancing grotesquely like a chess piece blown across the board by an air conditioner. Herb rubbed his head on Gus’ butt. Gus said, “I am too confused to freak out, yet.” He stopped fidgeting.
Another knock came. Herb yelled, “Come on in. I’m too busy to open.”
The door opened. Toby, Heffler and Pete-Mike entered. Toby said, “Since we are here, I can get Suzie back even if it means I have to fuck this guy.” He pointed at Citrus George.
Heffler nodded. He changed his costume so now he looked like a massive pile of blue Band-Aids. He said, “If Toby fucks Citrus George, I will fuck Gus. Actually, I did fuck Gus when I was my real self and not this pretend person named Heffler.”
Gus yelled. “Don’t talk about that!”
Apple Frank clapped his hands. “Finally! We are getting to the truth.”
Heffler shrugged. “Or not.”
Gus nodded. “You see? Even he admits it’s not the truth.”
Heffler shook his head. “No. I just said we are getting to the truth… or not. What that means is everything I’m saying is the truth, whether it’s the real truth or not.”
Ginger Timothy frowned. “How can you tell the difference, Heffler? I know I belong to that part of me that is the truth but I’ve been deceived so long, I no longer can recognize whether I recognize it.”
Heffler sighed. “You all bore me. I cannot talk strange right now because I’m bored. You can call me Toby. I am not the same person that is this Toby by my side but my name is Toby nonetheless. That is, if you believe me. That is what I mean by whether or not I am speaking the truth. I said something meant to be true but it is false. The fuck with Gus, however, is not meant to be thought of as true even if it is so.”
Apple Frank nodded. “So, what you’re saying is I have a chance also with this pretty Gus fluffy cat good boy. You had him and now so can I.”
Ginger Timothy laughed. “I actually told him to say that. In fact, Gus, I told everyone here to say what he or she is saying and that’s why I’m speaking less. Yet, Gus, we will have our love-making session even if I have to put my tongue in your nose.”
Gus shrugged. “I have not sneezed enough to make it worth your while but at least you’ll leave my private parts alone so that’s an advantage.”
Heffler screamed. “I am angry!! You are supposed to believe me when I say I fucked Gus!!”
Gus ran towards Heffler. “I want you to shut up about that!! You have no right sharing information truthful or otherwise!!”
Heffler put his hands on his hips. “So, you admit this is other than truth!!”
Gus said, “I believe no such thing!!”
Apple Frank lay on the ground and laughed hysterically. “This is supreme! We will all fuck Gus in various parts of his body, possibly causing wounds and penetrating them!”
One more knock sounded at the door. Heffler opened the door. Evelyn walked in. She was wearing a plain white T-shirt tucked into denim shorts with a large black belt. She said, “You all tried to keep me from Gus.”
Apple Frank frowned. “That’s not true! I invited you. You must remember that.”
Toby smiled. “That’s another example of something being either true or untrue. I think we are sufficiently confusing Gus.”
Gus yelled. “What is with this party, anyway? What is with all of this? Can’t a fellow like me have his confusion in peace? All I ever wanted to do was think and stay quiet in my old habitat but you all come out to pester me like subconscious thought realms after a long night of reading poetry! I do not have worms coming out of my skin pores but you all seem like the fattest specimens of larvae yet! What is going on?”
Heffler squeezed Gus’ wrist. He spoke menacingly. “You are now in the realm of what you don’t want and we are teaching you to become the dark side of who you don’t want to be! This is an experiment and you will freak out soon enough because none of us knows whether or not we are real, either! You can admit to if this is reality or a dream and you shall not have the answer! You will finally know the truth… or not! Whichever way the ball bounces, you will know! You will not know whether it is truth or not but you will know whether or not you can make a guess!”
Gus said, “I have to run off.” He tried to run out the door but Heffler kept a hold of his wrist.
Heffler laughed. “You now have the opposite of what you had before, my little Gus who swims by the naked pool. You can come back to my sewer any time… the sewer you invaded when you were full of stink! You should let me lick the stink off you!”
Gus tried prying Heffler’s wrist off his arm. “Damn it! Why the hell can’t one of the women hold on to me like before? This is nightmarish!”
Pete-Mike said, “I’m afraid to do anything. These two freaks paid me to show up and I needed the money but otherwise I have no interest in what goes on here.”
Apple Frank said, “On the count of nothing, we will all pile on top of Gus and squish him so he can feel our energy and become us as we become him.”
Suddenly, everyone – except for Pete-Mike and Grapefruit Jerry – walked towards Gus, pushed him on the floor and lay on top of him. Suzie had no choice but to do so because she was holding Citrus George’s hair but she was against the procedure.
Grapefruit Jerry said, “I prefer to eat my underwear.” He ran outside.
Apple Frank said, “Wow! This party is a squish!”
Pete-Mike was nervous. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He sat on the steps and thought. “I am not in the right place. Things are too fantasy-oriented here. No one is who he or she says they are. Nothing is what it is. I am getting paid for being a part of the mess and it’s nothing new. Everything I’ve been involved in is a mess. These creatures are extensions of myself. I must have made them up.” He heard screams from inside the house. “I will pretend I don’t hear what is going on. That is the way of the Good Samaritan. Someone can get hurt if someone wants to tell about things that go on when those things are not the person’s business. I have to inform someone but I am not sure whom to tell. Yet, it is none of my business because it is not happening to me. However, it is happening to me because I am getting paid for it. Whose are those screams? Is my mind screaming?” He shook his head. “I might as well go inside and pretend everything is okay.” He waited five minutes. Finally, the screaming stopped. “Okay. Nothing was wrong here.” He entered the house again and noticed what was probably Mayhem Theater.
Apple-Frank was on top of a heap of bodies fondling Gus. Apple Frank said, “We shall go into the circular region of what has gone on in Gus’ life up to this point. He is quiet because he knows he cannot do business if he screams. Well, let me explain. He woke up a few mornings ago and was confused and then he met Evelyn. She introduced him to Sally and Suzie. Then, she introduced him to Toby and Heffler. Then, Sally introduced him to me as well as the rest of the Blossom Boys. We could also be called the Infiltrating Boys. The name does not matter. I am the leader. The other guys are my puppets. Anyway, people like Herb and the lady carrying cards that fell on the cement walkway are mere pepper flakes on the gourmet chaos of his life. Everyone here today is a part of what is going on with him. I will not say the real reason why I know this information because reality and imagination can be blurred upon request according to who has the most secure financial income but I shall say I feel Gus’ vibes more than anyone else here. Now, Heffler – and maybe to a less certain extent Toby – claims to love him also but Gus has what many might call a Diaspora diagram with a maze and a hug to bite teeth. We cannot feel fret over that issue but we can determine whether or not Gus wants any of us. Gus, who do you want?”
Gus yelled, “As far as I’m concerned, Evelyn was the most attractive and persistent of all of you! This whole mess started because I ran away from her and then I ran away from her again when she was lucky enough to catch me a second time. Please, everybody, get off of me and let her own me!”
Apple Frank laughed hysterically. He yelled, “Evelyn, once I jump up off of Gus, you can come towards me and take your juicy tidbits!”
Evelyn said, “No. I want Gus.”
Ginger Timothy said, “My reason for liking Gus had nothing to do with my actually liking him. I once got drunk and tried to hug another man when the both of us were straight but the reasoning behind the insanity led me to realize I could be other than what I believed. So, I tried for Gus even though I merely technically liked him even though I tried not to like him. His face tasted so sweet when I licked him but I cannot say whether or not a lifetime of getting up in the morning and licking his face would help my health. All I can say is that Evelyn must really appreciate him so I will jump off.” He removed himself from the pile of people.
Apple Frank said, “Now, we must have another volunteer. Who wants to remove himself from Gus?”
Suzie screamed, “For the love of all that’s dear, get off of the bastard, Citrus George!!”
Citrus George asked, “What do you mean by the term ‘get off of him’?”
Suzie pulled Citrus George’s hair harder. “You either tell me or get off of him, damn it!!”
Citrus George sighed. “I cannot feel regret towards having you, Suzie. Your sleeves are like a question with no answer and I am attracted to that.”
Suzie smiled. “Thank you. If truth be told – and I am not sure if such should be the case – I can remove my sweater if I want but the pushed-up look is so much more interesting so I keep it up. If you let me take you to my house tonight, we can discover the real situation.”
Citrus George asked, “What do you mean by ‘real’?”
Suzie sighed. “Oh, shut up.”
“What do you mean by ‘up’?”
Apple Frank smiled. “If I may be so bold, I should say that I believe a grain of truth in the idea that Heffler was Gus’ lover when Heffler was using his real name. I also believe Toby had a lot to do with it but he does not want to admit it. Yet, I can say I think that the reason the women in Gus’ life all like him is because he does not know what he wants so he is considered safe. That is why the men like him also… because he is safe. The men can act out homosexual fantasies even if they are not really gay because they know Gus will not adhere to their regimes. However, the very idea of Gus not wanting to be gay does allow the men to want a life of homosexuality because they know they are safe with Gus. As far as I am concerned, I have no preference one way or the other. I could fuck a worm for all I care but the rest of you have morals. I should use a taser gun on all of you but I will refrain from doing that because I want Gus to be happy with me, even if it means he is with one of you. Just his being happy is all I care about.”
Suzie said, “We are getting away.” She got up and pulled Citrus George off of Gus.
Gus screamed, “How the hell can I tell whether anyone cares for me or not when these sadistic creeps crawl on me like bugs craving nicotine? You should know I regarded you with fondness before you became Apple Frank in a Blossom Boy disguise!! Why the hell don’t you let everyone know who you really are so they can leave me alone?”
Apple Frank jumped off the pile of people. He aligned his hands together in prayer form. He closed his eyes. “Be it may by the power invested in the stock exchange as well as the snot in my nose and other worldly diadems, be it become one of us to allow Gus his freedom. We can still deliver dichotomies in a diligent fashion if the sacred one push the broom before the retail price goes into affect. My situation has made me sit with the throne of tidiness and become me again. My original name was Thelma Frank Gussheim. My father named me after his favorite aunt and I have been tormented to this day. I call myself Apple Frank to rid myself of the feminine equivalent and shoot for the more organic fruit version of what I already am. I cannot say I am homosexual because society will not allow me to do so with comfort but I can say I am fruit-oriented as in the gardening and care taking of vegetables and proteins having nothing to do with meat. I met Gus twenty years ago when he was even less normal than he is now but people can call normality whatever they wish. I prefer to think of him as diseased. The term soothes me. I am the clean twisted one in his life and I reverted to the Tarot in order to make everyone do things to him. He needs his life back, even though I cannot give it to any person. Everything regarding his recovery has been implemented by my imitation of an alien source of bio-dynamics. The Blossom Boys are authentic but they are controlled by the rebellion I put them through. We regard reality according to what is not seen ordinarily and we make things happen regardless of whether or not the teddy bear spins. Everyone, I implore you to jump off of Gus and allow him to be who he really is again.”
Toby jumped off of Gus. He said, “You know who I am not and that is why I am getting off of the pile. If I were the sole one with Gus, I would squeeze the paste out of him in a wrap tighter than a present but Heffler is with me and I choose not to compete with him even though he is my creation.”
Gus said, “I prefer you over Heffler but that’s because he knows me… not too well but well enough.”
Toby said, “I will wait by the clock tower at the college. If you are there at ten o’clock in the morning, I will be waiting with bagels and strawberries. You can guess what I mean when I say that.”
Heffler yelled, “You’re making me look foolish in front of our little friends. Both of our little friends are attached to Gus’ crotch!”
Apple Frank sighed. “Oh, get off of him, Heffler. I have to discuss something with you and you’re too distracted.”
Heffler got off of Gus. He said, “If you really want to help me, Apple Frank, you will make everyone else get off of Gus and allow me to go on top of him, again. The weather is too much sunny afternoon and the vibes sleepy enough to let everyone swing on a sandwich. You know I also love your private parts but I am not gay so I can only devote myself to one man. Gus is the man I prefer to disillusion myself with.”
Evelyn, Sally and Herb were still on top of Gus. Herb smiled. “I feel like a hair shampoo. I am on a radio signal. You can see me on a poster. I am among the women and that means I am a woman. Evelyn and Sally are men. I feel comforted.”
Evelyn said, “I am the real woman who loves Gus. Sally is just imitating me. I still have my shirt tucked in.”
Sally said, “I still have my top tucked in, too. I know you might like Gus better than I do but I can’t go by that. I can only go by how much I like him.”
Herb said, “We cannot let our differences get the better of us. We have to work together if we all want to be the same person and fuck Gus like we want.”
Gus screamed, “I have no idea whether fucking me means fucking my body or mind!! I wish I were back with my pets again!!”
Evelyn laughed. “Oh, Gus. We have pets also but you don’t hear any of us complain. We have our own problems and you cannot be a part of our problems but we could pretend to be a part of yours. In other words, we are your pets.”
Gus said, “You don’t understand. My pets are my religion. Once I get back home, I shall be with my pets and they will comfort me like you are not. I cannot decide why I got out of the house, anyway.”
Herb laughed. “I guess your legs taste like butter toast.” He bit Gus’ arm.
Gus pushed Herb’s mouth away. “What the hell are you doing? It’s bad enough you’re on top of me like a wart.”
Herb shrugged. “I wanted to compare flavors.”
Gus yelled, “You’re all getting off!!” He pushed as hard as possible, wiggling around while his three attachments kept fixed to him. “Somebody please help me! How about you, Apple Frank? Why not Heffler?”
Apple Frank stretched his arms and yawned. “My work is done. According to the information, my role is to provide semblance. You are ingrained. We have nothing more to discuss. Have a good night, everybody.” He walked into his bedroom and slammed the door.
Toby grabbed Pete-Mike’s hand. “We can catch Suzie on another day. She’s busy with the circus citrus pal.”
Pete-Mike frowned. “Is this a sexual come-on?”
Toby giggled. “Certainly not, dear lover.”
Pete-Mike shrugged. “I understand.”
Toby said, “I’m just going to show you some… stuff.” He pulled Pete-Mike with him. They walked outside.
Suzie sighed. “I guess we’re next. I wish I could have believed Gus was the one for me but I can’t compete with those fools and his dirt. You’re my new one.”
Citrus George smiled. “What do you mean by the word ‘my’?”
Suzie pulled Citrus George by the hair. “You’ll be able to ask questions later.”
Citrus George laughed. “I’ll be curious as to what you mean by ‘questions.’” They walked outside.
Ginger Timothy lay on the floor. “Now, my dear Heffler, it is us. Will we leave?”
Heffler said, “I can make sure we do… but I won’t. We have to make Gus feel agony.”
Ginger Timothy laughed. “I remember when I saw another person named Gus and I teased him. That was back when I called myself Orange Timothy because I used to eat the stuff. Now, I can adjust those memories to suit this situation.”
Heffler nodded. “We are adjusting this situation to suit our purposes. You do know I am paid to act like Toby’s imaginary friend, don’t you? My name is not Heffler.”
“What’s your name, then?”
“Well, in a way it is Heffler because you don’t know who or what I am. I could be in your imagination right now. I can take the sink and throw it in the air and watch it go down your throat.”
Ginger Timothy winked. “That’s the stuff I remember hearing from you. Keep it up.”
Heffler picked up Ginger Timothy and shook his shoulders. “You are cream! I will milk your teeth! Take what you deserve, you stupid rat catcher! You’re spoiling my fun! Get away from the boomerang!” He pushed Ginger Timothy towards the door.
Ginger Timothy said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He walked outside.
Gus yelled, “I can’t take this anymore! Damn you, Heffler! Tell them to get off of me!”
Herb said, “I am too busy giving you torment to leave you. I wish the ladies would get off of us. They are spoiling our fun.”
Gus said, “I would prefer if you get off me. It’s not right when a man is involved when it’s all supposed to be women.”
Herb sighed. “You just admitted you’re the woman. So, to that extent, I must be the man.”
Gus frowned. “Heffler, you have to free me.”
Heffler shrugged. “I am staring. That’s a sort of freedom.”
Gus kept wiggling. “Do you plan to just stand here all night and watch me squirm?”
Heffler folded his arms by his chest. “Am I going to do that?”
“Come on, damn it! This is too weird for games!”
Heffler shook his head. “You have that wrong. The weirdness has to leave. The game has to stay.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You have to admit you’re indistinct.”
“How can that be?”
Heffler laughed. “The truth will come with certainty.”
Gus yelled, “I can’t understand you!”
Heffler nodded. “I can’t understand if you know me or not, either.”
Gus was still trying to get free from Evelyn, Sally and Gus. He asked, “Will one of you help get the other off me?”
Sally got off of Gus. She pulled Herb off, also. Her strategy was to get back on him until noticing Evelyn spread further on Gus and held tightly. Sally panicked. She said, “I was supposed to have a part of the territory but you are hogging it all, you donkey!”
Evelyn said, “I have the cake, now. Go home with Herb and allow him to be your lover.”
Herb pouted. “I really don’t want any of you to be my lover. I was just pretending with Gus.”
Sally slapped Herb’s face. “Are you also saying you are pretending I am slapping you? How could you admit to not liking me?”
Herb laughed. “You know that I am not really me when I’m with all of you. I cannot pretend to be anyone other than who I am when things get out and the world becomes other than what we make of it.”
Sally said, “That makes no sense and you have nothing that you can say that has anything to do with who things are.”
Heffler nodded. “We are now entering confusion. I am happy.”
Gus said, “I’m confused, also. What the hell do I do with Evelyn?”
Evelyn said, “You should know.”
Gus said, “I guess I shall do the crazy maneuver.” He reached at Evelyn’s waistline and tried pulling her T-shirt off. However, the garment remained tucked in. He pulled harder with no success. “What the hell is wrong with this thing?”
Evelyn said, “I’m holding you too tight so you cannot get this shirt off. It’s not on purpose but I won’t stop, either.”
Gus yelled, “Get off of me so I can pull your shirt off!”
Evelyn sighed. “Poor Gus. You will never understand. I am the correct version of what you’ve been missing. You need me to stay on top of you like a newspaper sending information towards a ship. This is perhaps the last time we will be together so I want it to last even longer than the last time should have.”
“How can it last if you won’t let me take off your shirt?”
“You don’t have to take off my shirt. All you have to do is treat me with respect and all that and all the things that you say are parts of who we are and all that when we can come together.”
Heffler clapped his hands. “That’s good. There’s more confusion.”
Gus yelled, “What exactly are you doing, Heffler? Are you guiding my confusion?”
Heffler said, “According to my rule book, there can be no tricks. I devise everything. You are the trick. There cannot any longer be you. I have made you keep up a project that you have yet to fail. All of the ice cream in the world will not help you now.”
Gus said, “I don’t want ice cream.”
Evelyn said, “I do.”
Sally grabbed Herb’s hand. She said, “I’ll pretend to be Evelyn and you pretend to be Gus.”
Herb said, “I do better in life when I pretend.” They walked outside.
Gus said, “I can see what they are doing but we have to do something else.”
Evelyn got off of Gus. She jumped up and down. “What can we do?”
Gus ran outside. Evelyn screamed. Heffler laughed. He said, “You should have realized what would not have happened.”
Evelyn cried. “I don’t even know who you are, Heffler! Are you really Gus? Please tell me the truth.”
Heffler shrugged. “In life, you will finally know the truth… or not.”
Evelyn hugged Heffler. “Thank you for being you. Where is Gus, right now?”
Heffler said, “I am a master of disguise and I cannot reveal who I really am or who I am not but I can honestly say that I don’t know where Gus lives. I assume he is not home. Yet, if anyone seeks him out, that person will find him.”
Evelyn said, “You feel warm.”
Heffler laughed. “You like mystery. You have no idea if I am myself but that just means you want me more. If you ever found out who I really was, you would not like me because we seek images instead of realism.”
Evelyn squeezed Heffler tighter. “That is so true. I wear my clothes on account of my identity but, even if I did take off my shirt, my skin would be tucked into my pants so I cannot honestly say I ever wore anything not tucked in.”
Heffler nodded. “My main thoughts are tucked in so you cannot honestly say I tell the truth.”
Evelyn squeezed Heffler even tighter. She said, “I will squeeze the breath out of you, Heffler. I am doing this because I feel a pillow coming on and I need messages.”
Heffler sighed. “You do not hurt me, Evelyn. I am soothed by your squeeze. Squeeze me all night, if you wish. I am probably who you need even though I don’t like you.”
Evelyn smiled. “That sounds fine.”
The Occasions Chapter Ten: Fun At Home

Gus returned home. A dead mouse appeared at his doorstep. The sight was as alarming as the broken keyboard spotted earlier. None of his pets could be responsible. Most of them existed in his coloring book. His kitten was an exception. The animal had no name but could be identified by certain movements of the tail. The cat resembled a Byzantine Emperor pursuing mercenaries. However, the tail provided victory as the cat pounced inland towards the rug, looking for marbles. Gus would have provided intervention if not for his own successful coup against animal mind-play. He knew the kitten would return after a few days in a stronghold at Italy by way of eating cheese. Gus frowned and said, “You shall soon have a name when I get my mind back. Today is my cooling-off period. You are fed and petted. That is your reality. My reality is more complicated and less sure. If you wag your tail, I will feel soothed.”
The kitten counter-attacked by swishing his tail in static strokes but with the intent to infiltrate Gus’ inexperience in naval combat against the water bowl. Gus was not discouraged because his next experience would be with a general of the animal kingdom. His goat was named Sicily , not in regard to the country but to a combination of Sissy and Silly. Gus wanted to prepare himself against heretics organized into military units, using the form of ants on his floor. He could have used cupcakes as auxiliaries but then withdrew evidence in case of legal battle. A majority of the senior officers, led by horseflies, were not pleasant. Gus sighed. “Everything around here is totally crazy but it also is not that way. What that means is that I have things to do in this world even though what I might do seems either complicated or commonplace. If everything is totally crazy or not, then I totally fit in. I can say that because of my experience but how can I relate that experience to those of other people? Wait… I must admit to liking animals more than one likes people because the complexity of life is less certain with those who cannot speak using human language. As long as I listen to my music and drink my liquid, I shall get rid of the digestive stomach juices turning into acidity and ruining my ideas on account of a knock on my door and the infiltration of contented thoughts. There shall be a large number of merchants who come into my stomach but I can get rid of them because I have lice removal. The dirt is no longer dirt as it is a removal of impurities. I need a guide. Yet, those who were guides have been those who seem to appear other than what they appear when they are with those who are different. My mentality is slowly coming back even though it never went away. I see now that those who were following me were my guides even though I did not have the education to listen to them. Yet, they were following me so I was their guide. In that sense, I cannot say I am totally crazy even though they were so. However, because they also were not crazy, then I was so and it means I totally fit in."
A dog entered his house through a hole in the wall. Gus smiled and petted the dog. “You shall be named Tulip Louie. That is your real name because you are my real dog but I am pretending you are a cloud cake. I have to pet your fur in order to make for total revulsion of my consciousness and self. I cannot stand the insanity I have been through and I must eliminate that part of my thinking that says I need no help. Things will be okay for me as long as I take away my ego and realize we are a part of this scheme called living and I should not have ran away from the others. I am retreating into myself now and that is revolting but, as long as I know so, I can become who I am again and be with others.”
Tulip Louie focused on Gus’ leg and bit playfully. The mathematics department at the University of Gottingen would have approved. Tulip Louie’s teeth were forming government positions. Important mathematical theorems were embossed close to the kneecap. The dog was generous with ideals, publishing a research paper by way of wisdom teeth and would not need credit in an official manner. Gus could walk crookedly and obtain a prestigious prize. Gus said, “You – my dear dog – have an ideological standpoint in which to firm your stiffness. You have the optical way to encounter your nice stuff and become my dear partner in the way of real life. I could mention such things as candy bars or smokestack grease but my brother is a mechanic and he would not hear of it. I have asked a lot of people for permission and they all live in different places of color with floorboards and the sun setting. I saw paintings that looked black and white. I saw photographs that were really spines of books. We shall not become more than what we have already become in terms of opera gratification. The timed response is nothing more or nothing beyond the mint cream. I shall later dance.”
A bird flew in Gus’ kitchen window and entered the living room. Gus smiled. “My archaeological dichotomy has infiltrated my sinus zones and entered the gates of newly mown grass. Even though people like to slam doors and cause upset when such activity need not be activated, I can say that peaceful sovereignty can be based in soup known as mellow behavior and comes in the form of a bird. You are my sunshine, Mister Train. I call you Mister Train because you have what it takes to give dollars to people if they are your friends and you want to test them as far as loyalty. You can dream of rejecting women and that is okay and you do so whenever you choose but there is something about becoming a member of the sea community that I miss. You can fly off towards any planet and I have to stay in mental quicksand.”
He put on a record. He had no use for CDs during his nostalgia. Hamburgers used to come with no cheese back in the nineteen thirties. He wished his life could return to yesteryear. However, he thought about the potential encounters from an hour ago. If he had succumbed to the requests of women, he would focus on the shade from trees. However, he wanted the mental equivalent of malt liquor and would do his utmost to receive his choice. He wiggled his hand as if it were a puppet. He called his hand puppet Whimsy. He asked, “How are you doing on this large sand, Whimsy?”
Whimsy answered, “You can make me out to be whoever you decide. I am not the guidance counselor ready to sicken you with dirt. You are controlling my voice so I will say whatever you want.”
Gus was glad. He wanted extraneous company but was afraid of results. He felt relived in knowing how Whimsy was controlled. Gus said, “We should not have been out of the house before. I am making a recipe including cheese and vinegar and you are now officially invited even though I had no clue you would be here. We have to grow things for our minds.”
Whimsy said, “I am still you, Gus. Yet, I think of myself as less than I think of you when opposed to which you were when with other officially different people. Your feet are large and scare me in a dinosaur realm. If you take off your shirt, I can snap a photograph.”
Gus said, “This is a private affair if you have to know. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and you were involved.”
His right hand punched himself in the face. Whimsy said, “We are now you. You control yourself and you control us. Make sure you shake the oatmeal and drop a dollop of buttermilk in the proceedings. Your real acts have yet to become full-tilt.”
Gus yelled, “You are no other than my hand. So, to act against me is a hyperventilation of the galaxy quest when flying saucers controlled the menus. I shall yell at you because none of the animals can talk to me like this. You are the one advantage I have towards life.”
Whimsy laughed. “You are totally crazed like a glazed piece of chocolate, correct? You ought to turn on the television and forget about me. I am you, if you remember correctly.”
Gus said, “I will put the menu on the platter. We have sessions and we have a twisted way of thinking things. I am not a police officer but I have visited Reno and the whole output regurgitated itself after hours. I have to look at the silver clock with the gold hands and the recipe with leaves made a bark as an accomplice. I can put a recipe together.” He ran towards the wall. He did his best to pummel the plaster but, underneath, brick was apparent. His face turned bloody but he did not mind. Color was just drama. Truth was inherent in action. He laughed hysterically. “I am going to beat the bad stuff out of me. If I reach death, I shall become pudding and a lot for others to eat. Be gone, Whimsy. You shall not allow your knuckle face to pretend yourself to me. I wash myself if I need to do so. I cannot stand recreational therapy. This is my space-time therapy. I have nothing to hide.”
Whimsy said, “You know that I am just a character. You are controlling my speech and movement. Had it been not better when you were slightly less in control… when you had pretty girlfriends to make you feel good?”
Gus sighed. “You must understand the reasoning behind my denial. The plastic bags of life bring out the transcendent aspects of tin cans. When one goes through a box of buttermilk, one has worn the final coconut of waves. I mixed my magic with everybody and it got me nowhere. I need a guide to help me get past what I am doing. Plus, I need to wash my face before I taste more blood. I will buy rags next week. My whole life is cinema and each moment makes me dirty like stains on a chimney so I must navigate the realms in which I travel.” He took the puppet off his hand and dropped it on the floor.
A couple of sheep entered the abode. Gus preferred quadruped friends. Any relationship was better if for agricultural purposes. He would visit New Zealand next as soon as he remembered the address of the organ factory. Hindemith was played more often than Broadway. He wanted to fall back on the Abrahamic traditions. He walked towards one sheep and petted him, then walked towards the second sheep and petted that one. He walked back and forth from the Proto-Germanic tile to the Old English plyboard. His mind felt spiral and primitive. He said, “My new people are sheep and they have come to make me one of them. I made a sandwich and could not gain admission to the freak fest.” He ran towards a sponge, then an eraser. He was confused. His life became clearer to him but with no reason.
Whimsy remained on the floor and said, “You can dance all you want but it will do no good in the pickle wood. You threw the tape in the sewer and then thought of obscene words you could not say out loud. If you repeat them to me, I will put them in a battery.”
Gus shook his fist. “Shut up! You are in my mind! I am talking for you! We have guests and you’re making them concerned! Things are going twisted and pink with a shadow and a flying corpse as my ideal and it cannot be that way, anymore.”
The sheep walked in Gus’ kitchen. Gus shook his head. “Dear Whimsy, you have made my guests ignore us. They are looking for things to eat. You can understand emotional tendencies. Calories bring fulfillment. You can love me if you want but the sheep know best.”
Whimsy said, “At least wash your face and put on good clothes and stop looking like a bum. That worked last hour but you have no reason to enjoy it now.”
Gus nodded. “Fine.” He went into the bathroom. He figured he might as well do everything out of respect for his new guests. His small growth of beard was labeled “white wool.” His razor would do hand spinning. The pores on his face had a range of heights and weights. Growth rate and maturity was heritable and caused the breeding of face fungus. He could rub the fibrous texture off of vegetables with his upper jaw. His premolars were responsible for forming such concepts as the alphabet. He rubbed the razor on his chin pasture, feeling the slow decline in body crop. He could smell the sweat glands by his eyes. He shrugged. “I have poor depth perception.”
He took off his clothes. Each garment was of a separate species so hybrids rarely occurred. The material was infertile, regardless of lustful dust mites. His shirt and pants were created to serve diverse purposes. He classified his shirttail length according to the lack of horns and the topography from where the clothing was manufactured. Washing himself would have a dual purpose. He wondered if his penis was really a front tail. He walked in the shower. He was nervous about the possibility of lactose content in the water. Fat and protein was fine. Everyone needed food. However, he would have trouble milking the specific combination of hydrogen and oxygen. The droplets would turn into parasites during hot weather. His sanity was in danger of extinction. He preferred uniform characteristics of water drops. The government was responsible for maintaining variations in registered weights of liquid. He would need to become herbivorous. He would go to City Hall and show his digestive system by way of shoe removal. Somehow, such a concept was keen.
He picked up the bar of soap and chewed on it. He said, “This is as tasty as lawn-like grass and makes a correlation with my facial white wool fungus. My concepts are growing like bacteria and protozoa and yeast of the gut flora. I can regurgitate suggestions given to me during conversations tomorrow. I shall let the water do its fermentation so my butt will provide gas. Everyone will feel bloated. My intestines will come out with a major hit record.” He looked at his soap. He thought that originally it was made from an array of grasses, legumes and forbs. However, upon further inspection, it appeared to contain oak and acorns with tomato, yew, rhubarb, potato and rhododendron essence. He scrubbed his body. He laughed. “This stuff is grazing on my skin, making the ingredients of my epidermis more narrow conceptually as in the ability to be a free spirit. My body is my pasture and takes the place of sagebrush.”
Whimsy said, “You’re not concentrating.”
Gus responded, “Be quiet. I am controlling your voice. You ought to wait until you’re in the same room with me.” He had to concentrate on fattening his attitude with thought fertility. He would have to feed Whimsy mineral supplements to keep the puppet from lactating irritation.
Whimsy was hypothetically created in the Mediterranean Region of Turkey and caused great political importance among other toys. Gus had a natural attraction towards him and thought of the relation as a corresponding increase in the city population of their souls. Whimsy yelled, “I am yelling now, Gus! I can be a member of the Blossom Boys if you wish.”
Gus screamed, “Shut up! I am emptying my mind from the past events!”
Whimsy laughed. “You can do what you want but I will look at the menu of what is going on and I will order a side of happiness. You cannot honestly say you are happy right now while showering even though I told you to do so even though you were the one doing the telling.”
Gus got out of the shower. He walked into the living room. “No one except these animals will see me nude and it doesn’t matter. My body is dripping and that is like a movie.”
Whimsy said, “I can shut up now if you really want that. The neighbors might come and wonder why you’re talking and looking at a puppet.”
Gus shrugged. “I can care no less. I am in the meadow of my metropolitan sweetness. The town shall soon know my name again if but for the sheer ignoring of whom I am. There are corpuscles in my bloodstream and I can ride the raft towards danger. I have made fresh decorations on my wall. I did not have to buy paint. I look better clean, though. I mean, I think I probably do. Now, to put you away.” He reached on the floor and pretended to pick up Whimsy and then set him on top of the television. “I am now complete. I can start over again and make sure I do not go through stuff.”
Suddenly, Evelyn walked in. Gus was nervous. She was wearing a white long-sleeved button shirt tucked into blue jeans cinched tightly with a brown belt. Her long sleeves were rolled up right below the elbow. She said, “I made sure I followed my image of you and here you are.”
Gus shrugged. “Maybe you wanted to see me shorn of clothing. I can only play a deck of cards for you and make the signal follow me into the taillight of the hormone antics. You must have mistaken me for Tony Curtis but I never had more than one television in my mansion. You can follow the code but you should not understand.”
Evelyn breathed heavily. Gus was soothed with how her stomach inflated and deflated. She smiled. “I am here and you could not have thought better.”
Gus shook his head. “A lot of notes are on the high side.”
Evelyn moved her hips as if dancing. “Would you like me to strip?”
Gus lay on the floor and covered his ears. “Do not talk to me of that! I cannot handle what you are suggesting! I just banged my head on the wall. I am too bloody for you.”
Evelyn lay on top of Gus. She smiled. “I will make you experience the other inner world.” She pulled Gus’ hands from his ears.
Gus said, “If you want to just lay here and keep quiet, that will be fine. I can think.”
Evelyn sat up, still on Gus. She unfastened buttons on her shirt. “You will think about this.”
Gus was nervous. He figured Evelyn would be wearing another shirt underneath but such was not the case. He said, “I must apologize because I see your breasts but you’re not concealing anything so I have to wonder if you’re a spy trying to provide me with information on the context of your lustful obsessions.”
Evelyn stood up and pulled the shirt out of her pants then finished unbuttoning. She took off the shirt. “Okay, I can be a spy and these two things on my chest are my assistants. They don’t make the rules but they occasionally make their presence known by bumping into people.”
Gus danced by tapping his feet and waving his arms. “I shall do the ceremonial tribe festive shake so you can move away. You’re becoming too much of a reality for me and I need you to go.”
Evelyn smiled. “Okay. I’ll go more towards you.” She approached him.
Gus sighed. “You and your geographical puns. I guess that maybe I wanted you to move closer. I thought you would look less sexy without your shirt on but I was wrong.”
Evelyn grabbed Gus’ hands. “You’re wrong because you know that the ultimate arousal is curiosity. You already knew what I looked like with my shirt on but you never thought I would take it off. I usually don’t in front of other people but, since you’re naked, I figured fair is fair.”
Gus moved back a few steps and tried removing his hands from Evelyn’s hold but she kept holding on. “I’m now in the emotional quicksand, I presume.”
She nodded. “You’re embarrassed because you’re thinking it’s a crime that I had to take off my shirt because you have no clothes on. You don’t realize I searched for you. I also thought I should have left on my shirt but I figure I might as well embarrass myself because, all along, I’ve embarrassed you. You were attracted to my tucked-in shirts. Actually, I was attracted to them but I’m assuming I can substitute myself with you and make you feel what I feel.”
Gus walked backwards until their arms were stretching. He tried pulling his hands loose but she held tightly. He said, “I guess we cannot make love now because you won’t let go of me.”
Evelyn giggled. “I was waiting for you to use the word ‘love’ in that context. My ultimate desire is to see if I can help you by way of just pouncing on you and licking you silly like I originally offered to do. Yet, I can just settle for standing here and pretending we’re glued together.”
“Why do you keep holding on to me all the time, anyway? Why did Sally and Suzie do that?”
“I can either speak for myself or them but I prefer not to talk for all of us. The whole thing has to do with feelings.”
Gus yelled, “Why the hell don’t you just let me go and stop the tease?”
Evelyn screamed, “I am not letting go because of the tease! You had to walk in my district and rattle my cage until we all adored you! I had trouble directing my determination because you’re like a fucking dirt road that pops the tires and makes the driver spit and swear! The more I saw you, the more I was angry at myself for not having you and then I realized you wanted me because I noticed how others wanted you and I put the math together! I am still trying to focus and you make it hard but I’ve got you and no one else is here except these pets of yours but I’m pretty sure they won’t bother us! You’re going to understand what I’m doing! I have to keep holding on to you until I feel it is no longer a matter of principle!”
Gus sighed. “You can tell me whatever you want but the truth lies in whether or not you’re really able to keep with what you say.”
Evelyn laughed. “I can keep with what I say because my words guide me in ways other than what my mouth would do when kissing you. I can follow you all around town if I want and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I have the instinct you don’t. You think you can just be whoever you want and pretend others don’t exist but we will prove you wrong and make sure you become yourself in an image we all can understand. I am speaking for myself now, as you can guess. I choose to think of myself as everyone and I am going against the grain of your woodwork by determining whether you are with me or not. Sally still loves you and Suzie is disgusted because you were in the gutter slime but I have been persistent all along and you know that I have been so. All I need is to watch you like a cushion watches an elbow. If you want to do something physical with me, I can let go of you. However, if you just want to talk, I have to grip your hands.”
Gus nodded. “Now you understand my game. You have been playing all along because you figured I would like you. I knew how I felt, even though I am not sure how I feel anymore, and you are still moving the chess pieces. As to who will win, I think we both will win if you let me go.”
Evelyn shook her head. “I will let you go soon but not until you suffer suspense. It will do you good to know that other people don’t act upon the same code of ethics as you and you have no right to impose your will upon others simply because you choose freedom. We all choose freedom and it’s a congested highway out there so some of us have to suffer and that’s why I have to keep at you like I do.”
Gus sighed. “Maybe you know what I need more than I do but maybe I know that we can’t make love if you keep this up.”
Evelyn let go of him. “Okay, you pet host… Come on and show me you have an appreciation for human beings.”
Gus said, “Take off the rest of your clothes and then we’ll do what you suggest.”
Evelyn took off her shoes and socks, then her pants and underwear. “Are we going to ‘make love’ as you so put it?”
Gus gave her a hug. “You can assume I am Heffler if you so want. I am not he and I have no idea of which person he is but he has convinced everyone of something different. Right now, I am I and you are you. Since you are willing to confuse yourself with someone like me, I am able to confuse myself with someone like you.”
They hugged. Gus squeezed her tight and she squeezed in turn. She said, “We are more of a match, now. What chess piece would you like to risk?”
Gus said, “How about if I move my pawn up a few spaces so your pawns can step aside and make room?”
Evelyn said, “Well, I think that your rook ought to commence with my bishop and come to an understanding.”
They continued rubbing their stomachs together. Gus said, “I am making skin cream so we shall assume the position of the Bossa Nova and make dandy in front of the post office of the clouds. You shall make sure you make what you want to make, regardless of what I say.”
Evelyn moved her hips, again. “I am now making a song.” One of the sheep walked towards them and stared. Something about these humans seemed not conducive towards agribusiness. There could be no footwear or rugs made from emotions only. People would need to manufacture synthetic mutton from sound. The man looked like a large sausage casing in the shape of an intestine and the woman resembled a combination of a musical instrument and tennis racket. Staring at these creatures would not result in their getting any milk but perhaps cheese and yogurt would be obtainable from a cow. They needed to take their stage play to Edinburgh where citizens could assess natural selection. They were concerned with exploring the relationship of body size and coloration in respect to reproductive success but they were declining in the contradiction exciting them into action.
Gus laughed. “The sheep is licking my leg and feels good like when my dog used to nudge my arm when I drank tequila.”
Evelyn shook her head. “Just shut up and continue fun.”
Gus said, “I will shut up in a little bit but his tongue soothes me just as much as your tongue. You must be a sheep. If not, you are the truth in another way and I cannot understand the chaotic freedom you so enjoy by being with me in a way that encompasses pie and garlic. We are on an amusement ride but you have to stop acting so rigid and let me be my eccentric self. We should put on music. I have nothing but a marshmallow to make you happy. You don’t know what I mean and I must ask you to excuse me because I like to talk when I do things in which I am not accustomed.”
They danced. The sheep assumed a natural strategic position on a small portion of Gus’ ankle. Evelyn could care less. Entertainment was entertainment. Tourism made way for investigation. The city of Gus ’ body went through various psychological changes since the reflection referring to itself as Evelyn. She would finalize a name in the new alphabet of his psychic structure. She would call out the name of the Sultan Alaeddin Keykubad if need be. Her preference was for things Latin or East Asian.
Gus wiggled in delight. He could picture himself as a child hopping on a tricycle made of cotton candy. His hair was rocking and rolling with the best bartenders of the Midwest . He said, “You have to speak with me, my lady. We are no longer concerned with our insanity. We can continue like this as long as you compromise your conventions and talk with me.”
Evelyn laughed. “You have now no longer the helicopter fruition of the bee and the contact and the tactic. You can understand nothing and then there shall be those who can understand more of the things that are. We are things in themselves and we can become more of the fruits and vegetables. You can understand my nonsense because my words are more in tandem with my rhythms.”
Gus said, “You would be better looking at the sheep licking my leg. He does not mean harm but he cannot help himself. He lives next door. My neighbor is a farmer. I have no real pets but he makes sure I treat his animals nice so they can be a part of harmony. My kittens and dogs are an exception but I have no idea where they really live. All I know is I am against caste systems because we are all people, even if some of us are not people in technical ways. None of us should be slaves to laws. Animals belong in court.”
“Oh, I cannot believe you. There are things that show how we really could be but clouds hide them. They have a loud percussion section and they are shadowed by the moon but I love it.”
They continued dancing in their way. The sheep finally lost interest in Gus’ leg. The world would become a different place for Gus. He would probably spend the night in happy bliss until settling back in his semi-insane groove. Evelyn would probably get dressed and seek someone else more to her liking. She was not sure of what she wanted but improvisation made way towards understanding. She looked good in her outfits but clothing was not personality. However, Gus would try tucking in his shirts out of respect towards her style. He might not push up his sleeves because he chose to not be reminded of Suzie. Sally would be fun in a friendship context but she lacked the vitality to be a lover. He made love once every ten years on purpose and usually not with another person. However, he was not against finding out things interrupting his secluded process. Tomorrow, he would walk through the neighborhood like usual but maybe he might smile at mailboxes.
Evelyn said, “You know that I am not so much in love with you as I am in love with understanding what you feel.”
Gus laughed. “You know, I have a certain way about me and you will never understand that but chapters keep unfolding and everything in life has to do with understanding. You may not know what I’m about and maybe I don’t know what I’m about but, if you have gone this far with the investigation, you will at least know how much I have tried to know.”
The sheep was chewing on Gus’ rug. There was something sexual about the fabric. Atomic structures were evident in everything. Computers were the same as peanut butter and magazine articles had much to do with soup and soda. Stores were plastic and boxed in Formica while towns went through mosquito cars. The entire world had its hopping planet color scheme with wigs and bank notes. Everything was a part of a single entity but also a part of whatever was separate within and without the circumference of the lumber pile. Notes were not for chords only. Houses had a lot to do with freckles and old manuscripts calling upon police protection when foreigners became too intense for airport security. All the trails led backward and made patterns for suitcases.
Gus pointed at the sheep. “Look, Evelyn. Maybe we can still do what we do and enjoy him, as well.”
Evelyn nodded. “If you really believe we can have fun watching that animal chewing crazy patterns on your rug, there could be something to that.”
Gus laughed. “You don’t have to enjoy anything. Yet, we are doing what we do and you started it so I might as well confuse you.”
Evelyn shrugged. “If you say so. I have finally made a point of not totally trusting you, but that’s where the fun and danger combines. I am with you because I know it’s not needed to be done. Later, I shall go back to my friends and see if they want to be with me, also.”
Gus nodded. “I knew you wouldn’t stay with me.”
Evelyn sighed. “I will go back and forth.”
Gus winked. “So will I.”
The sheep was happy. The humans were going through their choreography. As long as the city did not run out of moonlight power or streetlights, everything would be fine. After all, the humans had their own reality but there were other situations to consider.