What the Ga'gee knows..

[JoJah]

It's been awhile, bet nobody noticed I was gone. New job, new move..new everything. I did notice no new writings other than TMWNN's excellent short story. I get supermotivated when I'm amongs Jahn authors so motivate me and I'll tell you what happened to the Buzo Tacticos'. Hint: it wasn't pretty.
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"The good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley

[JoJah]

The town was sleeping as I rolled in; as is with small towns only the elderly strollers and the working poor were up and about. I figured to circle the town and get a feel for her but the diner changed my mind. Hmm. A real diner right out of the 50's. I bet the food was greasy and coffee bitter but what the hell, it was still bound to be good.

I dropped a $20 on the table and winked confidently at the waitress, she blushed slightly then smiled as I pointed at the coffee. I needed to make a friend in this hard living town and the waitress would do for now. I knew from this point on she would take pains to make sure my food was extra tasty and the coffee fresh and I could probably sit as long as needed to. It was the all the same no matter where you went; a little manners, a taste of currency and people unconsciously took care of you. It was probably primordial instinct; as in "he took care of me now I must take of him". Didn't matter, she would protect me from prying, curious eyes and her implied friendship would make me damn near invisible.

I stared tiredly out the big glass windows, slight imperfections in the thick glass made me wonder just how old this place was. A long steep hill sheltered the town on the west, judging by the greenish clumps it was probably a bear to climb or navigate through. Ahh. The coffee was nice, just the right amount of fresh milk and I felt satisfied. The hill to the west was the answer, I would set up somewhere along it's length and observe. Sooner or later the Buzo would come out to play and I was confident I would be able to identify them.

A bum crept out of the building across the way, without realizing it I had optically searched him for weapons and mentally pawed him as well for threats. Damn I needed to sleep. The bum stroked his chest a few times, the grossly blew his nose with two fingers. I watched the wet wretchedness fly and smack with authority onto the sidewalk. I suppose I should've been disgusted but nah, I found the scene amusing and watched him amble off to the east. People ignored him and he stoically did the same. I guess even small towns have their homeless.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the dream at the truck stop; the Dine men were not old but they dressed that way. It was their hair, yes.. that was it. The hair, old Dine had the seeyeelth, these gents had the 90's cut so I was betting in death they were processed the old way but what the hell was their purpose??

"Sweetie, wake up!" I looked up and damn if I hadn't fallen asleep again.

"You better go.. the boss is calling the cops, he thinks you're drunk."

I breathed deeply and I suppose I flashed a hateful look. that was twice someone mistook me for a drunk. I suppose that was the only social view of a tired native man. She apologized softly and left something foil wrapped and coffee to go. I viewed the bill, thought about the Dine men briefly then felt more than heard the approach of authority, the manager.

"You need to go.. right now!!" His voice was deep but the pitch gave him away, he was nervous. I thought of climbing into his space and making him really quake but then shook it off. It was more important to do the mission, making waves would only bring attention to me. So I nodded and in a moment of contempt, I threw the bill and crisp payment at him and walked out. Not smart but I felt a little better. It was time to climb the mountain and get on with things.

The rich coffee made me silently belch into my fist, lots to do but how do I do it with just me? I needed help but how?? The answer came to me just as fast, holy cow! how very simple. Yes, very simple. I was on my way back to Impio all I needed was a little space and lots of quiet.
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"The good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley

[nickyad]

*Oohhh*

I wonder what the answer is.....I wish it came just as quickly to me..BUT it didn't.lol
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"Try not to become a man of success but rather to become a man of value." --Einstein

[JoJah]

The morning sun found me on the scrubby side of the ridge, below me was the sleepy town with nary a soul stirring. The ascent was particularly harrowing as I must've passed a dozen audible rattlesnakes. Why they chose not to strike as I stumbled by them was beyond me. Probably found me smelly and repulsive. The ridge ran along then entire eastside of the slumbering town. From my vantage point I could cover the town and deep into the rural portions as well. Great find with the exception of my shoulder-less neighbors, the damned snakes.

My binoculars cast a lazy arc over the town and settled on a small hill on the opposite side of the town. My eyes investigated the distant surface and deduced it was too low and lacked cover for an effective observation post. I was fine where I was at. My instincts more than my eyeballs located the snake before it struck. Well it struck but I caught it in mid-flight, my right hand palming its grotesque face and slamming the deadly jaws shut. I could feel the sticky smooth stream of venom run down my arm and the hard twisting of its coil as it tried to free itself. My insides recoiled slightly; the idea of holding a deadly and amazingly strong reptile repulsed me. My immediate instinct was to pull my knife and pull its head across the blade.

I held that thought and decided to try and save the insidious thing. With no small effort I repositioned my left hand behind its head and quickly jerked away the other. Shiny dark bead eyes glared at me and it coiled viciously around my arm trying for another shot. I shook my head and spoke to it softly, something along the lines of behave or die. Strange but true, the vile thing limped and hung from my arm like delicate tapestry. Not trusting the damn thing, I pitched it downhill and was not at all surprised as it spun and tried to strike from the airborne position. I cursed it softly. My heart hammered my chest and I felt the stress crawl up my leg and into my gut. That was close.

This was probably a bad place to be but I needed the position, if I was here for another night I would bring gasoline and give them all a headache. Hmmm; I didn't have the time to do all that but I did have fluid that a snake might find just as smelly and fearful. I paused to drink one of my liter bottles dry. In a few minutes I would make the reptile population gag and hopefully leave me alone. As it was, my alternative mission I believe did the trick. Snakes after all probably understood more than most the unusual mission I was on.

After logging the community into my notes, carefully noting places of social gatherings, did I get ready for what I thought was a possible plan. If I was visiting the Impio in my sleep, did it stand to reason that I could just as easily return by napping? Or for that matter visit just about anyone, which I counted on but was uneasy about the specifics and whether or not I would return. What the hell! Go big or go home.

I would be going back to the Imp but I needed to visit someone else before that.

I could hear soft rustling, my mind immediately thought of the damned snakes and I slowly willed by eyes open. Just to the right of me lay the sleeping form of a man, around us was a shade house made up of freshly cut cottonwood branches. I could smell their crisp aroma, fresh indeed. The man was asleep on his side and lay on a cheap Mexican blanket, the type you find in Tijuana for a few bucks. The weather was pleasant and cool and required no covering blanket. It was actually quite peaceful until the sleeping man spoke, badly spooking me.

“What do you want? I don’t know you!”
I licked my lips, my mouth dry and needing moisture. A good scare will do that.

“I could tell you who I am but you wouldn’t know. We have people in danger and I’ve come for your help. You can come with me right now but I have no idea if we will return. I would rather you come to me in body and bring the following.

I trust your memory…. is good”
With that I gave the name of the border town and instructed him to find out all he could about the peculiarities of the other side of the living. The side I was in as it were.

I don’t recall how I left but I did and found myself back on the ridge, crawly occupants were now defunct. I couldn’t smell them anymore and decided they would leave me alone as I represented something unknown and almost certainly dangerous to them.

After a quick look around and stabbing into the dark areas with a long stick did I feel comfortable enough for another dream jaunt. I ran my binoculars over the awakening town, it was early evening and the people were beginning to stir. I noted a particular downtown building that had a fair number of new pickup trucks. I must check that out, after all a pickup truck is a masculine apparatus. It would stand to reason the most masculine of Latin men in this town would be the Buzos’. Good enough.

I heard the sound of glass breaking in the distance, a cold sound that conjured images of violence and mystifying sadness. I found myself face down on a heavily lacquered table,
my butt perched unusually high on a unyielding stool. I was back, nobody built uncomfortable furniture like the Imp. My eyes caught the dark dot of what appeared to be a lead musket ball under the deep glassy table top. My mind raced back to a different time and I recollected my beautiful waitress relating that the Imp was made up of old sailing ships, real wooden men-of-war. The musket ball if it could reveal its pass would tell tales secretive and controversial. I wish I could speak ‘musket ball’. Damn.

I slowly raised up and opened my eyes. Just what I was afraid of; Grace was across from me leering and mimicking with a fork that she intended to stab my eyeball. I ignored her with a nasty sneer and looked to my left for what I was really looking for. I was right. ‘Spokesgirl’ sat on the stool next to me; head down, her hands between her legs and shoulders hunched inwardly signifying defeat and loss. I had wanted to see her. To ask her why she was here? And what was the significance of the Dine bodyguards?

As I opened my yap to speak, a big hand slapped across my manly jaw and shut me up instantly. I stiffened, ready for fight but I kind of knew who it would be so I relaxed just a bit.

‘Mr. Sleeper of the Cottonwood House’ stretched his body around so I could see him, he mimed with his hands and body; “do not speak… do not speak….understand??… do not speak!!”

I nodded. I understood perfectly. I now knew why the ‘spokesgirl’ was here. The problem was now about getting her out.
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"The good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley

[JoJah]

The dawn was uncomfortable, moisture hung in the air making things musty and uncomfortable. I rubbed my shoulders hard trying to generate a little warmth. I was cold but it was more excitement than weather, the whole dream entrée blew me away. I was literally jumping into a time and back at will. Modern cinema tries to capture this moment but failed in my opinion. It was an experience that had to be experienced.

I glanced around my leafy shelter; a strange kinship had formed akin to saying goodbye to your high school locker. Snakes were below ground and wouldn’t be a problem until the sun blazed in. I was tempted to rest a little more but it was time to go to work. I had to see what the building was about and more importantly, I had to prepare for a visitor coming.

It didn’t take long to clear the ridge. After caching my extra gear I decided that I would keep a very low profile when I investigated the building. The bum I had sighted a few days ago gave me an idea. I would ‘bum’ my way into the town, slowly and carefully make my way into the fabric of small town society. Hopefully I wouldn’t be noticed coming in and more critically, leaving. I had to be Mr. Nothing, inconsequential for this mission to be successful; successful being defined as a live snatch of the grey-eyed Mexican or whatever nationality he was.

My belly was tight and fluttered with worry and strange excitement. I was hunting the Buzo Tactico and that was dangerous game in anybody’s book. I was willing to bet my ancestors felt the same rush of an adrenaline when they strutted off to burn wagons or hunt saber-tooth tigers.

The building was old, turn of the century maybe or the 1920’s, it had the handcrafted look mixed with some do-it-yourself repairs. Solid rock walls with crappy electrical, still she had good bones and I appreciated aging beauties. She housed a restaurant with a good-size bar, and I bet a happy staff judging from the cleanliness of the place. I stood across the street, deep in the shadows, watching and chewing my lower lip in concentration. How to get in? How to get the Buzo out? What am I missing?

My stomach growled; the whiff of grilling steak, thick chewy cheese and homemade bread wafted out into the street and pushed hard into my dark corner. The situation was unpleasant but I had been hungry before and it would pass. I needed to concentrate on the mission, however, the mouth-watering aromas caused me to drift off and think of other things.

I wondered where my ‘help’ was or if he was coming. I estimated he was 1000 odd miles away, a good two day travel by auto. Maybe a week if he hitched. He would come, I was sure of it but I didn’t want him stumbling around town looking for me. I would have to ‘dream leap’ and direct him to a meeting place. I wonder if would recognize me or the situation as friendly. For all I know he could be having ceremonies done and shut me inside the dream forever. Damn, where are the answers when you need them?

The Dine bodyguards, I hadn’t figured them out. Maybe it was assumption. Maybe they weren’t bodyguards but victims as well. So what did I know? I believed that they had been modern Dine but had been processed in death the old way; blankets and carefully groomed hair. That was important because if so then they were victims and their demise would unravel this.. this..? Well, whatever “this” was.

What was the situation with the pools of water around them - everlastingly wet? Maybe the water epitomized their death? Drown victims? Buried in an aquatic environment? Slaughtered mob-style with chains on and tossed into the river?? The last thought froze my blood. The hunger - the hot day- all of that disappeared with that thought. I was on the verge of opening a creaky, stubborn final mystery door. On the verge of resolution if you will but it wasn’t there yet. Think.

The darkness came fast as did the customers, loud music crashed out into the street every time the dark oak doors opened. It smelled heavenly and I wanted to walk through that door, eat hardy and enjoy the nights socializing. Nope. It was time to find a better vantage point and gnaw on my rations, tootsie rolls and stale water. My mind wandered again, sleep was near but I fought it as I didn’t need to see the Imp or her just yet. I would deal with “her” in good time, it was important I resolve the connection of the Buzo and the Dine bodyguards first.
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"The good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley

[JoJah]

February 24th
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"The good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley

[JoJah]

A long lonely road stretched out to the left and right of me, I looked down and grimly noticed the smeared white track under my shoes. Standing right in the middle of road - what a place to ‘dream leapt’ to. What if a truck happened by? Somehow I didn’t think so, I was here for a reason and it beat landing in the thick brush that rolled away from the roadbed. Quiet lonesome road in the middle of the night, what had I gotten myself into?

No stars but some ambient light reflected off the black topped surface. I could tell this wasn’t a well traveled byway but maybe a portion of what once was. Up ahead was something chunky and reflective, some kind of road kill perhaps. I quickened my steps as I felt that maybe it held some answers.

My thoughts were scattered, I truly wanted to talk to “her” and find out just what the hell I was doing at the Imp and her role in it all. The Buzo were beginning to annoy me, I’d be glad when this job was done but then the real work would begin. As in how to ceremonially “get back” and who would perform it. I would definitely be the talk of any cold winter night; “remember that guy that came to see Cheii... he said he did some kind of mission into the other side and came back… nobody comes back… I wonder what he was on…etc.”

My steps grew slower as my instincts noticed something amiss even if my mind was otherwise occupied. The chunks and reflective pool made it a definite road kill.
Something big was struck here; too much blood for a coyote and too light to be a cow otherwise it would still be laying there. Something hit something and dragged it off. I reached down to pick up a glassy object and scowled as I recognized it to be the eyeball. Deer, somebody whacked a deer and judging from the weight of the one eye, it was a big one.

I took a cursory look around, maybe my “guest” would be hoofing it along. I kneeled and glanced down both stretches of the road; no noise or silhouettes. Maybe I had to wait here for him, the idea annoyed me as I did not have the time and that’s when I heard it – snoring!

He was here but somewhere off the road inside the brush belt.

Very softly, I called to him;

“Hosteen, get the hell up, we have business…”

The snoring ripped and choked, he was up and in my mind I could almost see him; bleary eyed but very much awake and probably afraid.

“Come to the road. Quickly! We have much to do before I have to go back!!”

The brush began to crackle and swish as a large man made his way towards my voice. He moved slowly and carefully balanced his weight. Damn it, he had blisters and he was about spent as the walking was taking his strength mile by mile. I bet he was hungry too and the road kill was a blessing. I hope he at least built a fire and cooked whatever he cut off.

“I am beginning to hate you. I thought this was just a bad dream but I remember Janey and that’s the only reason I came… I want you to know that… Mr. Fish Head!”

“Mr. Fish Head?” I smiled with understanding, he was the Imp and yes, it did smell very “fishy” but years of sea life had made me use to it. He could call me anything he wanted as long as helped. So that was her name eh? “Janey!” I suppose it fit and “spokesgirl” was getting old.

“I understand you were an apprentice. Did you know your stuff or am I wasting my time with you?!”

I could hear the edge in his voice when he answered me, sharp and insulted. Good! Maybe he’d lose his fear and we’d get things going.

“Who or what the hell are you!! I do not discuss my life with someone I don’t know. You could be evil and maybe I should kill you right now!!!”

“You could try. How do you know I won’t leave you next to that deer?!”

A long silence followed. He made it to the edge of the road and was looking for me. It didn’t dawn on him to look down and see me staring up at him, hand slowly stroking my jaw and appraising him.

“I want to be with Janey. To hell with you if you are evil!” with that he resigned himself to me and the uncertain journey ahead. He was a man in love and he wanted to be with her, his “Janey” and I’m sure the feelings were just as strong as mine were for “her”.

Damn the circumstances that brought us to this. Damn them one and all.

I told him to sit down and explain the nuances of the “other side”, he did with little preamble and my assessment of him grew. He was a very learned man and he did know his stuff, pity such knowledge wasn’t to be used for mankind as he had lost his calling.
When he finished, he put his chin against his chest and stoically listened as I told him I needed him in that town. If there was an argument in him it vanished, this was real to him and he would kill himself to get there.

“Mr. Fish head… I will see Janey again?! .. “

“I imagine if you wanted to you could but you and I know the more we see them, the harder it is for us to go. Listen to the plan and making it there. I need your body so take care of it and move hard. No sleep and move hard. Make every hour count!”

“Before I go… anything else you want to tell me about that place?!”

“No. Just what I said, leave nothing there. No sweat, no blood, no voice…nothing. You do that and you will stay there forever. We are visiting and they know it. I have not decided if you are evil yet. This is very strange but I sense that you are helping so I will not bother you with questions.

I will sleep now, just a little and I will steal something to be there, this walking will not do”. With that he rose wearily and clumped into the brush. I’m sure come morning he would be striding along, a man with a purpose and the blisters be damned.

I threw my head back and looked up at the sullen darkness, his words echoed in my head;
“leave nothing behind…not even your voice..!”

How was I to ask her anything? Maybe that was the price to pay for any answers from the “other side”. I would ponder on this more but now I had to get back.
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"The good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley

[JoJah]

April 8th. For the MEU boys in Afghanistan. My link to you was cut and I will try to post it at the alternate site. Thanks for the interest and god bless ya for what you are doing. I truly wish I could be there with you.

Be safe,

JoJah
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"The good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley

[JoJah]

Greetings,

Got hurt. Sorry about that but I walked away from it with the help of EMS. LOL. Give me a few days to #$R#$ myself.

JoJah
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"The good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley