“Go ahead and take off your head and roll it into the center of the sink. That way you’ll be free of it. You can enter Pipersville unencumbered.”
“Of what?” Hucka Doobie speaks behind me in the void. “Yarns?”
“You should really look at the scenery while you’re here, Baker Bloch.”
“Busy eating grapes right now, thanks.” He spits another skin into the sand while digesting the innards of one, another being positioned to pop in. After a good number of tries (MUNCH) he’s actually starting to like the fruit, but the outside can still go to hell as far as he’s concerned. Phoey on it. SPIT Phoey!
“I’ll surf in a minute and that’ll catch your attention.” She would wink at him if he weren’t facing the other direction.
Understanding Wheeler and her ways, he briefly pauses in his activity to point to a sign on the beach’s edge.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said, using the eyes in the back of her head to observe. “But wouldn’t it be fun if you actually *cared*.”
“TILE balloons over there,” he deflected. SPIT
“Whatever.” She was really beginning to see why Hucka Doobie was so frustrated with him (MUNCH), even causing her to turn back into a bee-person lately, it seemed. Probably a bathroom break coming up… now.
SPIT “Gotta wee,” he said while rising. She must be reading the script again.
“It’s one of the ones that we had to give up when we moved to Rooster’s Peninsula here, Hucka Doobie. But as you can see, there’s (Mr.) Bean, there’s Tom (Kite) — front and center here. Combined: Tom Bean.”
“Fascinating,” Hucka Doobie admitted. “So we go back to Tungaske? Canada?”
“Ontario at least,” replied Baker Bloch.
“Ahh. Picturetown.” Hucka Doobie suddenly felt sorry she/he wasn’t directly a part of those Canadian based collage series, the In and the Out. With his/her analysis, I mean.
Baker turns. “You seem to be changing back into a bee-man,” he observed.
“Admittedly I’m slipping. A bit.”
Poor Hucka Doobie. If you don’t nurture a character and pay attention to them, they tend to atrophy. Hucka Doobie became stuck on Baker Bloch, unable to deal with the stuff happening all around her/him. What does that say about me (though)?
Hucka Doobie looks up into the Blue Feather Cube and imagines seeing Mr. Tom “Spilly” Bean emerge from the center of a triangle of 3 white stars, falling or perhaps even plummeting to Earth in a beam of white. Must be white.
Now to bring him actually to life.
She recalls the day she gave up her blackness, all ears now. In the opposite direction: red. She became the Controller after that, some say Morgan the Hagg returned from a watery grave, even. She picked up the phone. She gave him a call. Pepi “Can” Kolya was no more in her life. Until now, which was actually then.
“Herbert, it’s me,” she remembered saying into the screen, waiting with baited breath for a reply. Was that even his correct name?
“Herbert. I mean, *Newt* (sigh). Can I take off the ears now?”
“Not yet, babydoll.” He reaches over.
“The library, as a castle-like monolith, stands against you; wouldn’t allow you back in beyond the moat, the safety net that, admittedly, also cast out others.” Hucka D. paused again, reflected. “Only One, actually. The One that stands in front of the Two (and unites them). But marriage would have to be involved. It won’t be pretty. You’d… have to get her to accept the whole of Wendy.” Pause again. “The entire body of work, as they like to say down
“See it as protection instead of the obvious.”
They found some of the outfits left behind, I realized. I had been sloppy in my goings back and forth between here and there, confusing the two with each other.
Reinforcements came. Like Humpty Dumpty they were able to piece her back together. Except for the face, which remained a bit of a jigsaw puzzle, missing black and white pieces still to the sides.
These SILHOUETTES, foreground leaves in retrospect, are *directly* west of dancing Hucka Doobie and Axis in 00310117. They also seem to be “dancing” on a corner of Monroe. Compare.
Despite the leafy origins, I’ve decided it is not coincidence and instead a channeling event, call me crazy (“You’re crazy!”).
Conclusion: we never left the red car. Let’s see what the two are up to currently.
I wanted to stay in Dennis but the (Tisbury) cat lured me down the sidewalk, down and away from where I was suppose to be. “Psst, over here,” he or she seemed to say (in retrospect).
“Here, come here. Come closer. There. You’re here.” Indeed, I seemed welcomed.
Hmm, left the outside faucet running but it didn’t set off any alarms in my head. I’m soo blind without Hucka (!).
“No thanks, I already have one,” I said to the greeter in the front hall, a nice enough bloak. Too bad about the facial wounds for the fellow; maybe holds him back in life and keeps him here. As a servant at the door. “A smoke, I mean. Here. In my hand.” He presents his spliff possessed appendage for the cigar offering greeter as an explanation.
He’s back to old habits. Front and center with his back to us. Ahh, the old Baker. Azure Island days. Let’s get him in a comfy place to think about what’s he’s done and where he’s heading.
Ahh, this is the life, he ruminates. Smoking a spliff while relaxing in a stranger’s home. What could go wrong?
He looks around remotely.
Oldbie, hmm. ‘Nother one. And a prisoner: 031302. So close! This is 00310204. But: point made (?).
Let’s look around some more…
I wonder what could be coming up in post 00310302?
And that was more cats. Holding green and yellow balls. I wonder what would happen if you switched them around?
I think that’s it, the primary message for tonight. I’m officially an Oldbie. I wonder if I’ve been initiated into some kind of club?
Ahh, been there done that.
I feel like someone should be there. In that bed beside the books and drugs and under the stars. Someone just as high as me. Someone just as *old* as me. Hucka, I realized. She never left.
But how does he get over there?
“Alright I’m ready.”
“Fire her up.”
rrrr RRRRRRRRRR r..r RRRRRRRR.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” doubled down Hucka.
“I’m trying!” rrr RR rrr RR…
“Did you leave the lights on while we were dancing?”
“*No*” rrr RRRRRRRRRRR.
“Ah jeez. I’m going back to the White Palace, Baker Bloch. I’ve had enough thrills anyway for a while.”
rr RRRRR rr RR. “Suit yourself. I’m going to explore the town.” rr RRRRRRR rr RR. “On foot, pheh, if necessary.”
“Goodbye.” She slams the door on the way out and hails a taxi at the road. So many here in John F. Kennedy City. The yellow line should do for a return.
“If we keep focusing on Nautilus I think we’ll be okay, W. The link with Iowa.”
“Successful,” concludes the other. She seemed happy for a change. Or at least happier. Maybe the change of scenery did her good.
“Where to, Hucka? Post, Texas?”
“Next post for sure, ha. Have you peed yet?”
“Get on back in there, then.”