Sunklands

“So I drove up to this shed in the middle of freak-n nowhere, knowing there was something inside I needed to see.

“And then when I get out of my car and went inside, I see… him.”

“Him?” said Frank Lynn.

“Monkey? Dawg?” said Philip, trying to guess.

“No, Philip. No animal in this one. It was a man. But a man made of green: a solid green man. I’m not talking about someone wearing just a green shirt and green pants or even a green body suit. Green — top of the head to the bottom of the feet. And *glowing*.”

“Freaky,” said enraptured Frank Lynn.

“O-kaay,” uttered Philip Strevor. He needed to get some meth ready for a sale tonight, he thinks in the back of his head, but it can wait a little longer. He wants to see this through. In the moment, he even tries to focus a bit, which is rare.

“He starts to describe who he is,” continues Mikie. “Said he was actually made of uranium and that he was from the planet Uranus. ‘Both?’ I asked. ‘Both,’ he said.”

“Maybe he wanted you to think he was a piece of glowing sh-t,” offered Philip.

“Maybe,” said Mikie. “Okay, so then I remembered I had a Geiger counter on me — don’t ask me how. I switch it on — in my head somehow; something — and the thing registered off the charts, way too dangerous to stand very close to. So I backed off, planned my escape. Just then he turned into something else, like he was picking up on my fear. A human. Maybe — I don’t know — to be more on my level or something. Some kind of mind meld, mind you.”

“Huh,” said Frank Lynn.

“Hmph,” said Philip, shifting his feet and starting to truly get impatient. Just a little more.

“He was, I don’t know, trying to tell me something. He wanted me to know how he got here. Or what would happen to him if the wrong people found him. He was afraid, get this, of white people. He was green; they were white. Like, er, you and me Philip. But not like Frank Lynn, who’s black instead. He said he wasn’t afraid of black — specified it. Just white. Unless white combines with black to turn gray.”

“Listen,” said a now quite confused Philip. “I’m outta here; gotta measure out some drugs for a deal. I told my dream, I listened to yours, Frank Lynn, and I’ve listened to Mikie’s here long enough too. Green man in shed. Radioactive asshole or something. Got it.”

“Don’t you want to know if the white people catch up with him, dawg?” said Frank Lynn to Philip Strevor, who was already walking away.

“Nah, I’ll leave that story with you and your outstanding blackness,” he waved off while leaving the scene.

(to be continued)