Tag Archives: Jonathan Piper^*~~~~!

dopple effect

“Figured you might be here, Biker.”

Well. I had to go *somewhere*. *Burt*. Wasn’t that your name the last time we met? Black Lake Bunch?”

“Brutus, actually. But enough of the past.” He fondled his skeleton heart medallion hung from his neck like an underweight albatross, knowing he had to further the plot. Biker was merely following steps.

“Evening wood be too kind for this sky.” He waited. Nothing. This must not be Eveningwood.

“Amazon is awfully hot for June.” Nothing. But then:

“Ama*zonia*.” Bingo. We can continue the dance.

—–

She stepped out of the subway and into the light.

“Mother?” Cory asked at the top of the stairs, hands folded. He hadn’t seen her in nigh on 20 years.

“Cory?? My little baby???”

“It’s me, Mother. Your little Cory.”

They hug. They embrace. Cory had heard she had been gunned down in a crosswalk over in Urqhart or thereabouts but here she was, full of blood again and pumping like hell. He could feel her heart pound through his. He hugged more. She embraced more. It was a warm moment, hot even.

She drew back from him, arms still entwined. “*My* *little* *Cory*.”

“Yes, Mother. It’s me.”

She exhales bigly. “Wellll. Where’ve you been??”

“Where *haven’t* I been.”

“Biking. So Peter tells me. And Jonathan.”

“Biking with a man named Biker, yes. I’m a biker, he’s a biker, but more than one. TWO TO KNOW.”

“What did you say, darling??” She hadn’t heard that expression in years and years, the last time being…” She unclasped his arms from hers, stood back, staring, no love in her eyes now, or just shock. She knew this wasn’t her little boy all grown up. She knew that this was some kind of doppleganger manufactured for a reason. *A* *reason*.

“Mother? Anything wrong?” He couldn’t even see it in her eyes, but he wasn’t programmed that way.

This Middletown was big, far as the eye could spy. Women wearing red wishing they were wearing blue. Visa versa. It was all a big game of 2 in this most central of cities.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0513, Amazon, Nautilus^^, Slaashsides

00250115

I went ground-side to look for the site of the crash, if it was a crash. Jen Saunders insisted that it *wasn’t* a crash, and that all passengers arrived at Delhi, New Delhi and thereabouts intact and with wits still in place. I knew *something* had occurred, some anomaly. I thought back to the movie “Sphere” and the anomaly there, which was a black hole, perhaps an X 1/9 variety. Used car salesman Jonathan Piper insisted it had to be lime colored and not lemon in his early mid-life crisis (according to his wife the esteemed Mrs. Jonathan Studebaker Piper). “Pipe down, son,” he exclaimed while on the phone about it to still yelling Cory, sometimes known as Peter because of the last name and all. It was a mystery, a conundrum, and chef-inspector Petty was here to help solve it. But he seemed more interested to know the whereabouts of the girl with the schweet secret smile than the passenger ship. He wanted to move, in other words, from Lower to Upper Austra, beyond bridging green valley into the beige highland again. In other words, away from Collagesity and its personal sphere of influence (as centered between Highways 13 and 14). Anyway, back to the place indicted by the road. Sign confusion! Indian Lake Road straight ahead and to the right and Airport Road to the right and the left. We appear to be in all places at once without being anywhere atall. Sounds about right.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0115, Illinois

00260111

The *phone*, sir. Put the phone in the box.” Customs officer Wanda Raphael glanced over at fellow officer Wendell Sampson, having seen it all now. It was as if it was glued to his head.

“No no no, it has to be *lime*,” he insisted to the other party on the line. We’d seen him before, blue as FLY. Which he does, airplane or not. It was a moment frozen in time.

“Who is the pilot in this confusing story?” asked W, manifesting by my side. “Is it Tickie — is that his name? The blue fellow, perhaps the blue meanie?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly back. “There’s the problem of JOVIAL to deal with.”

“*Jeffrey Phillips*,” she exclaimed, remembering the Santa of the same disposition back in that other curiously resonant post. “He’s returned!”

“Maybe.”

“Who is the true ruler of Collagesity now?”

I let the question hang in the air like oxygen. I breathed deeply, taking it all in then exhaling. Calm the hell down, I remembered. I did recall that.

—–

Ship in the sky, plane in the air. I had that as well.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0111, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^

outside/inside

He knew exactly where he was, this Dub, as he gave his name. Nautilus. He wore the virtual continent like a crown from his position. He told me so in no uncertain terms. “My parents are *dead*.” I knew I was dealing with a jokester and his parents were probably inside the terminal, perhaps starting to look for him even now. Most likely they had an argument, a disagreement, maybe over the inability for the stubborn boy to get sweets or a soda just before a flight. He wasn’t going to come down from his perch on the barrel pallet anytime soon. I’d figured that out as well.

—–

Oh look, there’s Mr. Piper again, making yet another one of those mysterious calls in an even more secluded spot now. Dub, as he put it, is not his kid. That would be Cory and Eckert inside, and also I suppose Austin in a way, since he hangs around the others so much. But Austin properly lives just up the street with his actual mom and dad, Dr. and Mrs. Arnold Read, in a two story brownstone. We haven’t met him yet in our story. Or have we?

I returned to the boy. “Come on back inside, Austin,” I tried with some confidence. “Your parents are getting worried.”

“Dad?” he exclaimed. “He’s right over there. Behind that truck making another one of those mysterious calls he does.” He shakes his head with this but doesn’t explain. He’s hiding something. I’d now figured out his dad requested he follow him outside in order to keep an eye out on him. And also probably because he was being rowdy or uncooperative in some way, as we’ve already gone over a bit. He needed a bit of fresh air and so did, um, would this be Arnold then? No: Jonathan Piper, a used car salesman from Winchly. Trying to seal the deal on a lime colored X 1/9 that his wife didn’t want and thought was a waste of money for a family soon to put two boys through college. But his used car buddies insisted it was a steal at 5,000. What they also meant in a double entendre was that the car was stolen. By… one of them I presume. Karl. Or Ralph. Maybe Whiskey Boy George, the grease monkey. Maybe Phil. Or even Burt. Point is, Mr. Jonathan Piper should stick to selling cars at this time instead of buying them, since he has a perfectly serviceable ’82 Dodge Darty sitting in his driveway back home, or so his wife thinks. “200,000 is the new 100,000,” she says about the mileage, which Jonathan thinks is high but she doesn’t. “400,000 is high,” she continues in this vein. “300,000: ehhh,” she wavers, thinking of the line between middle aged and old for an auto. Mrs. Jonathan Piper doesn’t really understand cars. But she understands people, and her husband is going through a middle age crisis, having just reached 40 himself. She’d seen this before with lime colored objects, and here she thinks back to dear old Uncle Bert (not to be confused with Burt, the manager of Auto World of western Winchly) and his penchant for fruit when he turned 39. “Lime is the new lemon,” she could hear him say through his puckered mouth as if it was only yesterday.

—–

Turns out it was all an elaborate ruse. Jonathan Piper came back inside after the call but Dub — his real name as it turns out — didn’t follow him. Later he sat next to the real Austin, a boy about 3 years older, but they had nothing to say to each other, being strangers. Dub had had his way, sweets and a soda in his belly now. Jenck and Nicki Lavosier were softies at heart and tended to spoil their bratty child after caving to his whims.

“Flight 451 to Dehli, New Dehli, and thereabouts now boarding,” came the announcement over the intercom. The Lavosiers were about to embark on a trip they’d never forget.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0110, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^

Dubya

“Yeah, sorry we got cut off back there. It’s just the kids –” (reply) “No, first it was this turtle, and then a f-cking witch came out of the ditch.” (reply/reprimand). “Oh… I didn’t know that.” (reply) “Wife, eh?”

“Just get over here,” he barked from the other side of the line. “And expect some kind of spell day before tomorrow’s Tuesday.” (*click*)

The situation was growing worse. Orange now.

—–

The green phone rang. The green phone never rang. He went over and stared at it, wanting it to stop. Green screens flashed all around, as if connected to the rings. It was just that important. Time to calm the hell down.

“Pick it up,” Ballpark Johnson urged from the back windows, staring out at landing passengers, this time with a plane. “It’s the only way to end this.”

Oh I see: a name. “Say my name and I’ll do it,” replied the khaki wearing man beside the phone, smart with book inside him. Anderson County. Now he knows how to build a rock wall a mile long if needed. Which it will.

“*Can*.” Close enough.

“Hello?”

“Pepi?” came the hoarse and raspy voice from the other side, as if beyond the grave.

“Who is this?”

“You – know who. Last time – we met — I was — jovial.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0108, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^

air tales

“Tom!! Over here!!”

“That’s not your brother, dear,” offered his mom. “That’s a woman.”

“Tomm!!” Peter insisted.

“Pipe down, son,” hissed the father. “I’m on the phone.”

From her heart shaped seat in front of the cafe, Alysha heard it all. She was trying to read her red book, which she’d already read a number of times, perhaps 8. She was finished eating (her pie). She remembered a red light, then nothing for a while. Then here. With the red book. And the red pie. She became impatient. She skipped 10 pages ahead to mention of High Fidelity before her, as if highlighted. What did that mean?

“Tommmmm!!” More distant now than before but that’s because we are hearing from the perspective of the girl. It was really louder up close and personal — Peter was very convinced, and his mother was even trying to pry his hands from his cheeks now, but they were as if stuck. Who’s Tom? Alysha wondered. A sister? Strange thought, she realized  (“Tooooooommmmmm!”). Tom is not a boy’s name. But on the other hand, *she’s* a Tom, as in a tom boy. She could do anything a boy could and she does.

Across the terminal, and directly in line with the calls, Jen Saunders realized that flight 451 had taken off without a plane. “No plane, no plane!” she panicked. Future passengers milling about started looking at her, paying attention. “No — no –” She was out of breath. She began running, here and there. She ran toward Alysha, knocking into her, spilling the book. She got up with no concern for the girl, as if she’d just tripped on air. “No plane,” she started again. “No plane!” She was heading straight for the boy. “Toooooommmmmmmmmm!!” he called one last time.

Collision.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0103, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^