Modern Scrooge VII

-“You don’t want to do this Raul.

You would go to prison for many, many years. You would deprive two precious little girls of their loving father.

I may not be your favorite person, but I swear to you, it was due to bad lower management decision what happened to Telsa.
Had they been aware that she was pregnant at the time, surely she would have been immediately accommodated.
It is fairly common for women in the first trimester to miscarry you know.

Please…don’t even think of doing it. Do it for Telsa, do you plan to leave her alone for many years while you are sent to prison?” Mike tried to reason.

-“There comes a breaking point Mike where nothing matters anymore. I’ve been laid off from my job, and due to circumstances that’s how I approached these guys with the idea.

I can’t tell you exactly why.

It’s a mixture of rage, fear, impotence, and I guess deep depression that when mixed creates a cocktail conductive to insanity.
Frankly I don’t give a shit Mike. I need the money, and I want revenge – I am that angry all the time.” Raul acknowledged.

-“Listen to me Raul. If it’s money you need, I can give you more than these guys are willing to share with you.
How much do you expect to get? Ten grand?
Take me home right now; I have in my safe deposit twenty grand.

You can have it all!

I swear to you on what is most sacred to me – my kids – That I will not report you to the authorities.
You know where to find me anyway, why would I do that for money that my insurance company will replace?
Let’s get out of here now before the others come back!” Mike pleaded with heartfelt sincerity.

-“Look I don’t trust you, or that I can shake off my back these monkeys. I can’t take that chance. It really comes down to me or you.” Raul said with finality.

Just then they hear the automatic doors open and Boris’ car drive in.

-“Good morning gentlemen, I trust that you slept well Michael. Have you meditated on how best to resolve your problem?” Boris said fresh as daisy, as Mike is returned to the wooden chair.

Taking a few minutes to answer, Mike circles his neck to relax the tension created by sleeping while leaning on one arm.

-“I am willing to go to the bank with you this morning and withdraw fifty thousand, but I would suggest that you take me home first to shower, shave, change clothes, and to get something decent to eat.” Mike said cautiously.

-“Hmm…I see, but it would not be done today, since first we need to acquire further collateral.” Turning around he inquired, “Dmitri, do we have the physical address belonging to that number?”

-“Yeah, I got it.” Dmitri answered.

-“Well, I was getting to that.” Mike answered. – “You see, that would be a traumatic and a messy deal for all. I would rather avoid it altogether and offer you the pot of gold.

After all what is fifty thousand nowadays? It’s chimp change. Yet, frankly to me it is vital to keep my business afloat. In fact, if you can hook me up with a lender, I would mightily appreciate it."

-“We have a long day ahead, get to the point of this pot of gold.” Boris asked intrigued.

-“Why settle for $50,000, when you can take with you about a quarter of a million dollars up for grabs? On top of $20,000 cash I have in the safe deposit in my home.
Instead you’d split amongst you $270,000! You could take a vacation from crime for a several weeks!” Mike sold his package deal.

-“Why would you be willing to do that Michael?” Boris asked suspiciously.

-“Because I’d be okay with parting with those $20,000 which my insurance would reimburse anyway, as well as to avoid getting anyone else involved as collateral.

And also because I’d be your accomplice Boris. I could not turn you guys in to the police because I’d be an accomplice too – do you see?” Mike said as he turned to look at Raul.



To be continued….

Modern Scrooge VI

As a form of entertainment to pass the time, Mike posed to project his urine into the toilet bowl. This required the flexibility of a contortionist, as Mike twisted, squatted and aimed to reach the designated target.

With only his left hand available, he composed his vestment, and reached up to the sink to wash his hand. Thank goodness he had been able to wash himself here after that horrible ordeal which he refused to rewind. Some things just had better be blocked, for no human being should have to endure.

Mike had never felt so humiliated, humbled, or scared shitless.
He had also felt vulnerable as he realized that not his money or possessions could alter the fact that he too would one day die.

He was not the invincible rockstar that he perceived himself to be which gave him license to step on the little people. Mike believed that one had to be a ruthless son of a bitch to achieve and maintain success.

It was me or them he rationalized.

Now shaken to the core, something had shifted inside.
He now realized how he had callously treated most people, uncaring about their feelings or plight, and of the repercussions of such acts.

Reaching to the adjacent paper towel dispenser, Mike collected all the towels and formed an improvised pillow to rest his weary head on, as he sat embraced by the tile wall.

Mike prided himself in being a resourceful guy. After all, he had built with his own hands, and his cunning and frugality what he had. Yet, perhaps that was his undoing as well he reflected.


It would be New Years Eve soon he realized.

The one day when one perceives time inexorably slipping away, like sand sifting through our fingers. Yet, this also represents a new cycle in our life chart.
A blank slate to pencil in too many agendas, demands, and resolutions to be broken on this pristine new calendar.

-“WHAT A FUCKING YEAR 2008 HAS BEEN!” Mike yelled at the top of his lungs, this followed by hysterical laughter, preceded by tears. “GOODBYE AND GOOD RIDDANCE!”

Suddenly the door is unlocked and Raul comes in a rush. –“Shut the fuck up, or I will insert my stinky socks into your mouth if you yell again!”

-“It won’t taste worst than shit, of that I can assure you!” Mike said while shrugging his shoulders.

-“Look at you now big shot, do you still think that the pen is mightier than brawn?” Raul asked.

-“Run that by me again please? Who has a pen here?” Mike said without care.

-“It’s very simple. With the flick of a pen, powerful men control the world. Yet, ultimately who has the upperhand and the power when two unarmed, naked men are thrown into the ring to fight? The soft-assed or the brawny?

WHO ARE YOU – without your money? Can you lure women into bed without it?” Raul taunted.

-“You don’t know this, but I built what I have with my own hands. If I were to lose it all, I would eventually get it back. Using my intelligence, I can create wealth, and lure a woman into my bed -- with or without money.” Mike said as he pointed to his brain.

-“That is if…if you have more days left. Because I can assure you that when you depart this earth, you are going straight to hell. And I won’t mind joining you there as well...You’ve seen me, and know where to reach me.

I can’t take that chance.” Raul said menacingly.

-“I’m very sorry for Telsa’s loss and yours of course. Please believe me that I am very sorry. This episode has shaken me to the core. I am a changed man, and I will strive to do better – I promise. Please don’t hurt me, I have two young daughters and they need me!” Mike implored.

-“It’s me or you man.” Raul returned the ball to Mike's court.



To be continued…

Modern Scrooge V

-“Don’t hit him on the face too hard! He needs to look decent when he goes to the bank to make the withdrawal.
Michael what have you decided? You know that it’s up to you how early you leave all this behind you.” Boris inquired.

-“Look, I told you that I’m not rich. Even what I do have left apart from the losses in the markets, those assets are frozen in real estate, and invested in my company.

It takes a lot of money to keep it running every month and the orders have fallen drastically, and new credit lines are hard to come by – it’s almost in the red.

I don’t have that kind of money to spare; it would mean that I would not make payroll or overhead for a month. There are lots of families who depend on me for support.
Please ask for a reasonable amount like five thousand.” Mike said attempting to negotiate.

-“Now you care about the welfare of your employees Mike? You do remember me now don’t you?

You’re such a slave driver, that Telsa is not the only one who miscarried while working there. You cut your workforce to the bone, and no one could relieve her of her post and she was prohibited from leaving.

Telsa found out later that other women have miscarried too in the past due to how you abuse your employees, yet she refused to sue you as she wanted to keep her job.

Then even after all the years that Telsa worked for you and even after her loss – OUR LOSS, you still fired her. Now you will pay you putrid son of a bitch!” Raul said with vehemence as he kicked Mike again in the groin.


Boris looks at his watch. It is 8:24 PM.

Standing in front of Mike, Boris retrieves Mike’s cell phone from his coat pocket and scans the contacts list. Seeing too many numbers listed, he proceeds to the speed dial contacts and dials from another phone the first number on that list.

-“Hello?” The juvenile voice of a female answers the phone, this within earshot of Mike.

-“Hi, is Michael there please? I am a friend of his.” Boris says most cordially.

-“Hmm no, my dad is not here. I will see him tomorrow though. Do you want to leave your number and I will give him your message?” The melodious voice asks.

-“Oh, I’m sorry I missed him. Tell you what, why don’t we surprise him! Can you please tell me where you will meet him tomorrow and I will join you there and we will surprise him! We are long time dear friends you know.” Boris said persuasively.

With hot tears running down Mike’s reddened face, Mike gathers momentum and topples his chair lading on top of Boris after taking him down.

-“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Mikes yells as he bites like a rabid dog any part accessible of Boris in an attempt to cut short the conversation.

Boris immediately drops the phone conversation and straightens the crease of his impeccable slacks.

-“Business is business Michael -- and I do mean business. The only problem is that you are getting to be a nuisance, therefore after we add another element to this equation, the donation of fifty thousand, will simply not be enough!
It will then be eighty thousand for the risk and all the effort involved.

Dmitri please call our friend to trace this number to find the address. We will deal with this tomorrow. Now I really have to get home or my girlfriend will kill me.
Shit! I forgot to get diapers!” Boris said as he gathered his keys.

“Goodnight Michael, I hope that you think about your dilemma and how best to fix it. You will sleep on that cold chair all night, and you will jeopardize those you love – for the love of money.
Think about that through the night Michael. Goodnight.” Boris said while parting.

-“Do we just leave him out here all night? I am going into the office to get some heat, it’s too fucking cold.” Dmitri asks.

-“Okay, I am a nice guy. Just handcuff him to the sink pipe of the employee’s bathroom and lock the door from the outside with the external lock.

Oh, by the way, Michael refused our dinner invitation. He must be famished. Why don’t you force feed him your dog’s shit -- and do use the cleaning gloves.

Goodnight everyone.” Boris said as he drove off.



To be continued…

Modern Scrooge IV

Feeling like a child castigated for not eating his vegetables; Mike rode blindfolded and hand bound in the trunk of the car, following their drive through fare.

After what seemed and eternity which thoroughly disoriented Mike, he heard the car engine shut down, and the trunk door finally open. He was assisted by four hands to make an unceremonious exit, his body having become a cold, twisted lump.

Mike was solicitously supported and guided to sit on a wooden chair.
He was secured by the ankles and arms surrounding the back of this chair, and was left to sit there still shivering as the space they were in was also cold as the trunk had been.

Mike strained to hear what was happening around him, as he heard another vehicle drive in and more footsteps approach him, accompanied by the bark of a ferocious dog.

-“How does it feel to be powerless Mike?” an almost familiar voice taunted Mike.

-“Do I know you from somewhere?” Mike asked almost sure, though not quite.

In response Mike felt his lights knocked out. The punch to his stomach made the chair topple backwards.

-“Hey! Hey! Please settle down, we should not treat our guest like this – unless it becomes absolutely necessary.” Boris arbitrated, as Mike’s chair was straightened.

-“Alright, eventually I will have my fun with you.” The man without the Russian accent threatened.

-“Please don’t hurt me anymore! I want to return safely to my kids. I am a father of two precious little girls…. PLEASE…PLEASE… DON’T HURT ME!” Mike wailed as the image of his kid’s faces became a beacon of light in the midst of the insanity and terror, shaking his frame with tremors that went beyond the coldness seeping through his clothing.

-“Okay, here is the deal Michael. I know it’s very cold, and it’s getting late, and you probably have a date with your little girls’ tomorrow morning, and lots of good times ahead.
This is how it’s going to play out. Listen to me please. You can decide how early we drop you off somewhere and leave you alone in your car.

Judging by the bank withdrawal slip, and by the assets we have been told that you have, I think that making a small contribution of fifty thousand dollars, is not going to brake you.

Obviously we would need to wait until the bank opens for you to make such a withdrawal in person, but that would only prolong the duress and length of this transaction.

You see, not only would you have to wait for the bank to open, and pass the night seated on that cold and uncomfortable chair, but I would need additional collateral as well, simply to assure me that you would not alert the authorities while inside of the bank.

I would need additional collateral Michael – do you know what I mean?

I believe that it would be best overall if you somehow avoided withdrawal from the bank, and perhaps broke your piggy bank.” Boris said in a persuasive yet chilling tone when the implications of what he said sank in.

-“You’re crazy. I am not rich; I’ve also been hit hard by the market crash- what do you think, that I keep all my money gathering dust under my mattress?” Mike answered in panic mode.


The direct kick on his groin made him see stars, these followed by repeated slaps which loosened the scarf covering his eyes.
Mike was able to make out the inside of a warehouse, and to also recognize the man who was delighting in hitting him incessantly.



To be continued….

Modern Scrooge III

-“Michael, which is your pin number please? The guy seated next to him cordially inquires as they park in an obscure corner of the parking lot of Bank of America.

Mike supplies the code, as he perspires profusely by this time.
Suddenly Mike breaks down to cry as he remembers that the pin code represents the name of his first born. He wants more than anything in the world for this awful ordeal to be over with, and to embrace his daughters close to him again.

The guy exists the car after putting on a cap to cover his features. The driver in front keeps and eye on Mike directly from the rear view mirror. He looks with derision at Mike, as if asking what kind of man he is to cry like a baby.

Mike wipes his tears with his sleeve, and composes himself. That was just a moment of weakness induced by a stark reminder of our mortality, and what is truly valuable when conducting a quick inventory.

-“Hand me your cell phone please.” The driver with the shinny eyes orders with authority. To ascertain his authority, he pulls out his revolver from the inside of his leather coat.

The driver peruses the pictures on the cell phone. There are several pictures of two girls about ten and eight years old.

-“Pretty girls, were you on your way to meet them?” The driver asks casually.

-“No, I…I was just going home to rest. I only see them on the weekends.” Mike supplied with a knot in his throat.

-“I have a little girl too. She is the apple of my eyes. You see Michael; I am also a father and business man – like you. Please don’t think awful badly of me. My name is Boris by the way.” He volunteered.

Mike’s nerves, as taut as a rubber band stretched to the limit caused him to snap. - “Like me? I am an honest, law abiding citizen. I work very hard for my money, how can you be like me?” Mike spewed from clenched teeth with barely contained fury.

-“Come on, we are simply standing on different street corners you and I.
Yet, what is so different from me, than white collared crooks robbing non-profit agencies that helped the needy?
Or those making a profit off the misery of those evicted from their homes, and out in the cold? Did you know there are approximately seven thousand foreclosures daily?

Michael, we are in the midst of the worst financial calamity since the Great Depression. Just read the papers. Everyday Joes' are now resulting to shoplifting as a last recourse.

This is only the beginning. It will get worst, and with it, anarchy flourishes like rosebuds bloom in spring.”

Their conversation was cut short by the guy in the cap returning to the car with a withdrawal receipt in hand. They drove out at a leisure pace.

-“What do you feel like eating for dinner Michael?” Boris asked solicitously.

-“I’m not hungry at all.” Mike answered as he felt vile running down his throat.

-“I would suggest that you revise your answer Michael, for we will be together for quite a long time.” Boris foretold.



To be continued…

Modern Scrooge II

Mike felt a sudden chill run the course of his nervous circuit. Without a fight he carefully deposited the keys on top of his car and proceeded to sit in the back, gently prodded by the guy holding the gun to his lower back.

-"I am only going to say this once my friend. You will be very quiet, and not make any attempt to draw attention to yourself. If you do, I will squash your balls myself, and I will tie you up like a piglet, and then throw you in the trunk." The man holding the gun cordially advised Mike, in a thick accent.

An inexorable feeling of dread, made Mike's blood pressure drop when it dawned on him that these two men did not simply intend to rob his wallet. Keeping a low profile, from the corner of his left eye he stole a glance at the front mirror.

The driver could be considered good looking, clean-cut, and sharply dressed. He gauged that he must be in his late twenties. Their eyes met for a moment in the mirror.
The driver’s eyes were dark and intense, with an eerie brilliance to them. Perhaps he was under the influence of cocaine. He kept up the intense eye contact without pause, even as the traffic rushed forth.

Mike was the first to break eye lock, if only to save the whole lot. What did his eyes speak to them? Mike bemused. That he was about to shit in his pants? He had to maintain his cool. These looked like professional thieves; surely they would simply let him be, once they got some cash.

-“Listen guys, I have some cash on me. Please take it, and let me be. Please don’t hurt me.” Mike pleaded as he felt his stoic resolve crumble with each additional mile the milometer showed traversed.

There was an exchange in a foreign tongue which Mike did not recognize; they seemed to be speaking Russian amongst them, by the few words that he could make out.

-“OK buddy, give me your wallet please?” Asked the man seated to Mike’s left holding the gun aimed at his midriff. He spoke as casually as politely asking him to pass the salt.

With clammy hands Mike searched for his wallet, and then handed it over. He was sorry to have spoken. Now they had not only his cash, but also his home address.

There was another exchange in the foreign language, as the guy counted the money and the contents of Mike’s wallet.

Meanwhile, Mike looked at the car next to them as they waited for a light to turn green.
He observed the car with normal people going about their business, perhaps they were just returning from a visit to their families.

They seemed blissfully unaware that everything was so precarious that it could tumble down like a stack of cards by the hand of fate. That nothing in life was guaranteed, not even another day to live.

Suddenly he remembered what Monica had said to him that morning. That he was a scrooge for not letting his employees have that Friday off with pay.
Yet, he was frugal with himself too. He did not go out and blow his hard earned money in ultra-fancy restaurants or in sumptuous vacations.
Mike basically lived to work. He not only worked at his company, but also took a lot of the work home too. The only vacation trips he took, melded into business pursuits too.

He had sacrificed his personal life he mused, even neglecting his family in the process. Yet, could he be blamed for wanting to secure their financial well being? No, that had not been enough to his wife, and daughters. His divorce had made him dive even deeper into his work.

Mike now felt a tinge of regret for not giving enough time to his family in the relentless pursuit of money. If something happened to him tonight, what use would all that hoarded money be for? His ex-wife would probably use it for plastic surgery, and the pursuit of younger men.

-“OK buddy, now we will make a quick stop at the ATM, and then we will go to get some dinner to go, OK?” The guy next to him said as nicely as inquiring what he wanted to order for dinner.





To be continued….

Modern Scrooge

-“My eggs are frozen.”

-“Like for harvesting?” Mike asked.

-“No, silly goose. The eggs are frozen, so I can’t make an omelet now. There are only avocados, wheat bread, and canned beans." Monica said.

-"Why don't you ever have any real food here?" Mike said exasperated.

-"What the fuck! You know that I'm vegetarian. Go eat your crap elsewhere." Monica stated, also exasperated.

-“Well fucking post Merry Christmas day to you. Can’t you ever start a day with a smile?”

-“Botox permiting, I only elicit those facial expressions in the throes of earth-quacking orgasms, and even those are lacking of late.” Monica answered impertinently.


-“You know what? I’m out of here! I’m going to Mc Donalds for a solid breakfast, and then I am going straight to work.” Mike said as he gathered his jacket and car keys.

-“I can’t believe you did not give the Friday after Christmas off to your employees so that they could enjoy an extended Christmas holiday with their families; you are such a scrooge!”

-“Time is money, and I can’t be giving my money away indiscriminately. They should be grateful to have a full time job in this stinking economy.” Mike said as he slammed the door shut.

The day was slow and uneventful. Yet Mike was a creature of habit. He managed to employ his time productively, as well as making sure his employees did not slack in their productivity. Constant vigilance of the security cameras made sure to keep everyone in line.

The fluidity of traffic on the freeway, now eerily empty for a Friday eve, was a welcome respite from the perpetual gridlock chocking the arteries of Los Angeles.
This makes the daily commute in the city of Angels, almost an odyssey and a test of the patience, civility, and risk taking quotient.

Mike looked at the clock. It was 5:50 PM and already dark and cold. He decided to get groceries before going home.

Upon loading the grocery bags in the trunk of his car, he felt the cold cannon of a gun on the back of his neck, as someone instructed him to give up the keys and to get in the back seat immediately.





To be continued…

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve




It’s a wet night, yet different than the rest
There is a vibrant vibe permeating the night
Some stress about the long register lines
Others of facing the prospect of a very lonely night


I personify the scrooge of Christmas time
I only bought toys for Manuel’s tots
The rest don’t look at me for giving
I have no more left of myself to give


I look with derision at those overloading shopping carts
They’re so manipulated by consumerism drivel
Then a holiday songs plays over the speaker and touches my heart
Oh my God! It’s all about the birth of Jesus Christ! I realize


I look around the store in a different light
The mechanical reindeers bow their heads in reverence
There is joy in my heart; this represents love of the purest kind
The sacredness of life, and of the eventual sacrifice – for the love of mankind


It’s a wet one alright
A song triggered a memory as I drive through the rain
I ditch family; I don’t want to see anyone tonight
I don’t want them to see me cry as I do while I drive





.

Spatial Odyssey II

Back to the original starting point.
I am careful to shake hands cordially with Manuel; I intuit that respect, and self-respect have been scarce commodities of late.

-“Where have you been Manuel? Did your wife tell you why I’m here?”

-“I was in jail for a week.” He said shyly.

-“Why where you in jail?” I inquire.

-“I was in Highland Park collecting aluminum cans, and I asked some guys for a beer.
I drank it openly in the park without covering it up, and I was stopped for that. I was arrested because they found false documents in my wallet, and they tore those up.”

I was livid because of a moment of weakness, he was disrupting my plans. Before my eyes, which were eloquent enough, I was seeing someone sinking into bottomless despair.
Just then his wife and little daughter come out. His three year old daughter embraces Manuel’s legs, and doesn’t want to let go.

I give him a thorough sermon about the evils of drinking problems away, which in turn create a whole new set of problems. I ask him if he can fix this problem since I can’t take him to the company to get hired empty handed.

-“Yes, I know some guys.” He said finally.

-“Is it too late to fix it now? Do you have money?” I inquire knowing time is running out.

-“I think I can, and I don’t have money.” He said expectantly.

I look around my surroundings, stalling for time. I purposely ignore the implications, since as a law-abiding citizen, I just don’t do any illegal activities.

-“Look, it’s getting late. Do you need a ride somewhere? You find a way to fix this mess, because it was due to your stupid drinking that you put yourself and your family in jeopardy. We need to be there tomorrow morning at eight; my cousin is too busy to keep changing appointments – fix this now!” I said very seriously.

We arrive near Mc Arthur Park. As if guided by instinct, I drive into the parking lot of a doughnut shop, where I decide to wait it out and get coffee.
I order something to eat for both of us, and before I finish preparing my coffee, Manuel is consulting someone just outside of this establishment.

I notice that several men are seated in individual tables facing the window with cell phones in hand, as if working from their office cubicles to serve the next client in line.

I sit inconspicuously in the back, consuming my bran muffin and coffee, as I strain to hear the contents of their conversations.

After twenty minutes, Manuel comes back to the table and eats. He said it would be about another forty minutes. That guy is a friend of a friend, who will do it on credit.

We make small talk about the people in the company, and his stint in jail. I asked him if he'd slept in the park, since I had been looking for him there.

-“There are a lot of people sleeping in the park. I met an older man who lost his job, and place to live. He’s trying to make money to return to Guatemala. By the way, thank you for your help.” He said with sincerity.

-“There’s no need to thank me Manuel. Simply promise me that you will stop this bull shit drinking. Do it for your little daughter. Did you see how scared she was that you would leave, that she did not want to let go of your legs? That beer money should be used for food and diapers.” I said with intent.

-“I know. I will stop.”

-“Look, I’m very tired. It’s 7:48 PM. Please be ready tomorrow at 6:30 AM, I will pick up and take you there. Can you make your way straight home alright?” I inquire ready to split. I don’t want to ride with him in case there are monkeys on the coast.

“Yes, it’s pretty close walking distance. I will be ready and waiting outside at 6:30.”

At 6:32 AM, I flash my headlights to Manuel to get in. The rain is pouring hard this Monday morning.
With hot coffee in hand, we resume our light bantering and joking to alleviate the pain.



.

Spatial Odyssey

It's 5:46 PM on a frigid Sunday evening; I brace myself to leave the sanctuary and warmth of my car to find this address.

I feel apprehensive about parking here, yet more so, about carrying my purse with me. Clutching only the address, and my wool coat in front of me, I walk rapidly to my destination.

I came upon an old grey building surrounded like a maximum security prison by an iron gate. There was no intercom to make my presence known, so I was direct, and to the point.

-“MANUEL!” I yelled out his name over and over again, as an incantation accompanied by the wind.

After about five minutes of no results, a couple came out, I thanked them, and ran upstairs to number 203.

I knocked on the door insistently without response. Crestfallen, I asked a neighbor if he would lend me a pen, in order to leave a note. Just then, several locks are turned, and out comes Manuel’s wife.

-“Hi, do you remember me? I used to work with Manuel. I need to find him please; I found a job for him.” I said with urgency, worried about my car.

-“Yes, I remember you. Come in, Manuel is not here.”

A little girl of about three appears; a mini replica of Manuel she seems.

-“Sit down. I have not seen Manuel in two weeks. He’s taken to drinking and hanging out with other drunks, and looking for work.”

Her eldest daughter from a previous relationship chimes in. “He can’t handle the stress and the accusations from my mother. They fight all the time. So he simply has stopped coming here. I hope he does to pay the rent next month.”

-“I need to find him. I got him a job in a company where my cousin is in charge of production. He’s mostly all the time in China now, yet he just arrived for the holidays to see his family. It’s crucial that I take Manuel there tomorrow morning at eight.” I explained my urgency – still worried about my car.

-“You can find him early morning in Home Depot where he says he looks for day labor. He also hangs in Mc Arthur Park with other drunks. I don’t know which Home Depot, he does not tell us anything.”

I drove about eight blocks, and parked a block away from Mc Arthur Park. It's 6:40 PM.
The area was still bustling with the activity of the holiday shopping. I was glad to find parking in front of a well lit 99 cent store.

An old man sitting on the window sill of this establishment eats a Salvadorian tamale. The informal business’ here, thrive more so than the formal ones; the latter are guarded by uniformed security guards.

-“Excuse me, do you know a Manuel? He is tall, late thirties? He’s not come home in two weeks, and I’ve been told he hangs around the drunks in this area.” I ventured to inquire.

-“No, I don’t know of a Manuel. But the drunks hang out in clusters around the corner here, or next block in that shopping center, or in the park."

After inquiring where he specified, I walk to the shopping center where a man with blood shot eyes, tells me that he will help me. He offers to drive my car around so that we may find Manuel.

I roll my eyes and walk away lured by the elaborate sanctuary of "La Santisima Muerte" (Blessed Holy Death), inside of the shopping center. A life size skeleton elaborately dressed representing death sits upon a shrine. Chairs are situated in front, just like in a little chapel.

With null results, the last place to look is Mc Arthur Park. I amble there acutely aware of my surroundings, drinking in the people, sights, and of course, looking out for Manuel in all the desperate faces I encounter on my route.

Again I stop and inquire at the park if they know of a Manuel. I am intercepted by a young man about twenty-three who tells me that he does not know a Manuel, but asks me not to go. Do I want to make love? To which I said no.

-“Let’s make a deal, I’ll pay you. Just follow me to the bathroom.” He said.

I explained that I’m busy as I walk away towards a couple of older men. I inquire again, and tell them that Manuel might be sleeping at the park, since he has not come home in two weeks.

-“There are a lot of people sleeping here now. Just last week the papers took a picture of a white woman sleeping on that bus stop bench during the rains. She was front page news, yet she is still around here sleeping.” The old man said.

I walk away, again intercepted by the young man who tells me, “Look there’s an underground tunnel which connects both parks. Come with me there; I have a hard on.”

Just then, my cell phone rings. It is Manuel’s stepdaughter telling me that Manuel has finally come home. I thank her and rush the two blocks to my car, lost in the crowd of Christmas shoppers.

As I insert the ignition key, I quickly lock my door. My heart jumps when I see the same horny guy appear in front of the hood of my car. He motions with his hands "What's up?"


To be continued…


.

Rotten Bananas IX

-“So how do you feel buddy? Did you have a good time?” Jose inquired impertinently.

-“I sure did; she was a very nice woman. I think that I will go back to see her again.” Charlie said without offering further details.

-“Well, are you ready for all the details of my soiree?
You see, I could not make up my mind on those two since they were both aggressively competing for my attention.
Finally, they mutually agreed to offer me a deal like Payless.
As in 'Buy one, and get the other at half price.'
Of course they were more into each other, than into me, but I can’t honestly say that they neglected me.” Jose said with a mischievous wink.

-“Hey, let’s run this light before it turns red. We're almost late for work Charlie, and you know how anal Richard is about punctuality. Come on Charlie! Let’s make a run for it!” Jose said as he ran ahead of Charlie to cross the street, as a bus stationed in the corner to pick up passengers.

The massive bus impaired their vision, and both the car circumventing the bus from behind, as well as Jose, did not see each other until the moment of impact.

The brutal impact catapulted Jose into the air like a rag doll, landing him in a twisted heap, several feet from the crossing line.

The driver sped away, as Jose lay unconscious in the middle of the intersection. Charlie inebriated at the time was afraid that Jose would be run over again by the traffic coming in from opposite directions.

Charlie grabbed Jose from behind, and dragged him slowly to the curb, and away from harms way.

-“CALL FOR HELP!” Charlie yelled at the stationed bus driver, as he cradled Jose’s head on his lap and pleaded with him to wake up.

-“Help is coming soon buddy, just hang in there!” Charlie said through tears as Jose regained consciousness, yet started bleeding from his mouth.

Charlie felt Jose’s life force ebbing slowly away, as the minutes turned into a quarter of an hour, and still no help arrived.

-“Remember Jose when you said that we would be alright? You’ve got to hang on buddy, you’ve got to! Please do it for me. You are the only friend I have left.” Charlie said this as he sobbed disconsolately.

-“Sure buddy, you got it. Although from experience I’ll tell you that there’s no rush to save people like us. If something happens to me Charlie, you will be alright.
Look at you; you are a sharp dresser – thanks to me of course.” Jose said as he coughed up more blood.

As the minutes trickled, Charlie kept up the conversation to animate Jose into staying focused.

-“Jose, you never did tell me the story of how you ended up in the street, when you had all this money and connections.” Charlie asked out of curiosity and desperation that help was slow to come.

Spitting out more blood, Jose answered, “It was due to bad investments Charlie. The worst of which, was investing the heart in the wrong person.”

Those were Jose’s last words, as his spirit deployed with the delicacy of a falling autum leaf.




.

Rotten Bananas VIII

Very gently, Vicky pushed Charlie back to lie on the bed; the motion taking her with him. Gravity made the full body embrace all the more solid.

As customary for Vicky, she refrained from kissing on the lips. Instead, she decided to ignite a slow-burning flame considering that Charlie was so sentimental and obviously fragile.

Delicately disengaging from the octopus embrace she was imprisoned in, she sat up to straddle Charlie’s torso.

Vicky literally purred like a kitten as she leaned over to disperse dozens of butterfly kisses all over Charlie’s face.
Some of the little kisses were barely perceptible, as her lips made whisper-soft contact with his damp eyelids, roughened cheeks, and nose. Vicky worked her way around his lips, down to his earlobes which caused a stark reaction from Charlie.

As her lips traveled down to his neck, all the while dispersing unlimited delicate kisses, simultaneously, she started to unbutton his shirt.
Vicky was half way done unbuttoning those, when Charlie abruptly halted her hands in mid-process, and requested that she turn off the lights.

-“Sure honey, do you mind if I turn on some music?” Vicky asked startled by his request since in her experience, most men are highly visual and enjoy staring at the ceiling which is mirrored, for the multiple view in front and back.

Paying attention to her movements, Vicky sauntered seductively towards the radio and found just the perfect song playing by the Isley Brothers, “Living for the Love of You.” It was a perfect song to set the mood.

To economize her efforts, she retrieved a condom from her purse, and initiated her return to the bed. The lit dial tone of the stereo illuminated her way.

Straddling Charlie once more, she finished what she had started, while renewing her distribution of little kisses, now down his torso, as she felt his accelerated heart beat amplified by the darkness which enveloped the room. The beat seemed to augment in crescendo as Vicky sensuously grazed her nipples over Charlie’s midriff.

The darkness also seemed to amplify the scent of bodily secretions, seeping now when mixed with the odorless lubricant Vicky used as a working tool.
Considering that enough time had been wasted in nonsense, Vicky’s hands unbuckled Charlie’s belt and unzipped his pants.

Charlie was putty in her hands and mouth, as Vicky expertly performed fellatio on him post wrapping him in the condom. When nearing the point of no return, Vicky thought it would be prudent to stop.

-“Do you want me to finish you this way, or do you want to fuck me?” Vicky whispered into his ear, as she flicked her tongue in his earlobe.

-“I wanna fuck!” Charlie said this with urgency, as he pushed Vicky on her back and without further preliminaries, came through the door.

Vicky braced herself for a wild ride, as she extended her stocking-clad legs in the air and squeezed him hard. Abruptly she halted her motions and disengaged herself, while she pushed Charlie away.

-“What the fuck? Get off me!” Vicky yelled at Charlie as she scrambled to turn on the bedside lamp.

-“What is that on your back, turn around so I can see it!” Vicky demanded.

Charlie’s ardor deflated as well as his morale; he gave his back to her as he scrambled to search for his clothes.

-“Oh my God! I’m so sorry…I…is it contagious?” Vicky asked full of panic.

-“No, not as far as I can tell. These are lipomas which I’ve developed over the years. Look...I’m sorry. I’ll just get dressed and leave.” Charlie said utterly dejected and mortified.

Something in his eyes tore at Vicky’s heart. She came around to where Charlie sat, and embraced him tight.

-“I’m sorry honey. I’m sorry that I reacted like that. Please forgive me; you don’t seem a bad guy. Do you want to try to re-start? I won’t charge you for the extra time.” She ventured with a little smile.

-“No Vicky, I think that’s it for me for tonight. But, I would like it very much if you lie down next to me, and simply hold me for a little while.” Charlie said with tears brimming in his eyes.

Moved by his tears, Vicky fell on bed encircled in Charlie's arms. In an attempt to make up for her hysteria, she kissed him tenderly on the lips.



To be continued…

Rotten Bananas VII

-"Hello, my name is Vicky. Would you care for some company?"

Charlie nodded his consent, as he gulped down the rest of his whiskey. Vicky poured herself on the bar stool next to him. Her scent intoxicated him from such a close proximity. She was still a lovely woman, even if slightly past her prime.
Her pendulous breasts valiantly defied gravity, those encased in a backless halter top.

-"Would you like to order a drink?" Charlie asked as his pupils dilated when fixated on the decolletage which framed the deep valley of her cleavage.

-"I'd love one, thanks." Vicky motioned to the bartender.

After the ritual preliminaries, were each sniffed one another and automatically registered the texture, scent, and tone of each other, Vicky gently lanced her fingers with Charlie’s hand, then she led him to a room upstairs of this establishment.

Each knew what they where here for, and proceeded to deal with the business aspect. After tucking the folded bills into the inside pocket of her purse, Vicky systematically took off every particle of clothing, with the expediency of a production line worker.

Charlie sat slowly on the edge of the bed and took a sip of his whiskey glass, while he drank her in with his eyes. At leisure, he took a detailed inventory of every inch of her anatomy -- the good as well as the flawed.

Vicky was not used to being inspected with such blatant curiosity, as if she were an anomaly. She planted her hands on her hips, and asked him if he planned to get rid of his clothing.

-“There’s no rush Vicky, don’t worry about the clock.” Charlie said in a hoarse tone. –“I want you to walk slowly towards the door, then come back here.”

Vicky did as was told.

-“No! I don’t want you to march towards the door! I want you to saunter there gracefully, while you swing your hips side to side. Do it again please, and this time take your time.”

Vicky attempted her walk again, this time taking her time while shaking her rump. She ended her catwalk an inch away from where Charlie sat.

One calloused hand provided a lift to ease the heavy weight of her sagging breast, while the other hand traveled the whiskey glass to his lips. After taking a sip, he asked her to do the walk again.

-“This time Vicky, I want you to retrieve your black stockings which you rapidly discarded, as well as your shoes, and put those on for me. Please face the door, and be sure to bend down all the way to secure properly the shoe clasp. And please – take your time.”

Vicky intuited that Charlie was a voyeur. She played the game, taking her time straightening the back seams of her stockings, while giving him a close-up of her derriere, as well of the portal which lay ensconced between the pillars of her thighs.

She took an inordinate amount of time to secure the straps of her high-heeled shoes. When done, she pivoted towards Charlie to stand a small distance from where he sat utterly engrossed in watching her movements like a hawk.

Charlie raises his right hand and asks Vicky to take a sip of his whiskey. Vicky does as instructed, then feels the rest of the whiskey spill down her chin, down to her breasts, as Charlie takes it upon himself to baptize her with the fiery liquid.

When there's not a drop left to pour, Charlie releases the glass and grabs hold of Vicky as he pulls her towards him and presses his face to her breasts. He encircles her body with his arms and holds her to him this way for the longest time.

Vicky intuits that this guy simply wants comfort, as well as to look at her ass. With her free hands, she alternated between embracing him back, as well as softly running her fingers through his hair.

After what seems a very long time, Vicky feels tremors shaking Charlie's frame, as well as her own in turn. She feels hot tears trickling down onto her breasts, these mingling with the evaporating whiskey on her skin.




To be continued…

Rotten Bananas VI

-"You look sharp dude. Here, try on this suede jacket too." Jose suggested, as he held the jacket open for Charlie to try it.

-"You think that I look fine? I know I will believe that after I get a hair cut. Thanks for helping me choose the pieces to match Jose.
I think that you really have a future as a fashion consultant." Charlie said with a wink.

-"You got it. I have impeccable taste, as well as an astute business sense. Your whole new wardrobe, including the full-length wool coat and shoes won't amount to more than eighty dollars. The pieces ticketed green, are half priced this week.
Although I think that you should buy the underwear and socks brand new.

Let's finish up here, and then walk to the ninety-nine cent store. Hey! We can even get some cologne there too!"


As they carried their purchases to the nearby store, they walked with a brisk stride, full of energy. The change in their diet and habitat had really made all the difference.


-“It feels so nice to walk into a heated store, in from the glacial cold. Although I think it doesn’t beat the high of having money in my pocket to buy whatever I need.” Charlie said with a little pride.

-“You recall what I said two weeks ago Charlie? It all comes down to money. Now what you need to do after we get you transformed is that you get yourself some pussy.”

-“I don’t know about that Jose. Let’s not push our luck. I am very content with earning enough to pay for our room and for decent food. Besides, I can’t even remember the last time I was with a woman. And now, well, now -- I’m ashamed of my body. Which woman would sleep with me the way my body looks?” Charlie said chagrined.

-“Hey, I sleep with you, and I don’t mind it. Well, I don’t make love to you, but we do share the same room and bathroom. It will be alright buddy -- we'll be all right, you will see.” Jose said as he draped one arm around Charlie’s back in solidarity.

-“Besides my friend, we will sort of stimulate the economy. Did you know that the whore ranches in Nevada are in dire need of new customers?
The situation is so bad now, that even seventy-two year old women are applying for work there. Don’t assume that you will get a Britney Spears look alike either. Get real!

Let’s go get something to eat, and then get the hair cut, and then sleep. We should be ready by 11:00 pm sharp for work duty.

Richard is getting all into the Holiday spirit, and suggested that we also target cars full of packages as an extra curricular activity, dressed as Santa Claus and fill a huge sack.
We will see about that. For now let’s stick to the plan, and tomorrow you are getting laid my friend.

Now that I think about it, I think that I will too. Let’s walk to the personal health aisle and get some condoms too."




To be continued…

Rotten Bananas V

-“The cold is unforgiving; it chills one to the bone.

My body shivers on its own accord which resembles an epileptic dance. Does it not seem like ages, since we've felt the embrace of the sun?
Or the warmth of skin-on-skin contact for that matter.

I’ve already forgotten the oppressive heat of an August afternoon.” Charlie said wistfully, followed by a long shot of whiskey.

-"I feel as if I had nearby the glacial companionship of death, as if it were flirting with me from afar, subtly letting its presence known. This chills me to the core Charlie.

It's ironic that for all the money I've held, I end up like this. It all comes down to money Charlie.” Jose said pragmatically.

“With money you can follow the sun’s rays, where they beam near the equator. Not in the least, you can purchase that wonderful skin-on-skin contact which I vaguely remember and sometimes crave.

Say, why don’t we make some extra cash together? I know how. There is a guy who deals with recycling, who always looks for extra help. Not in the sense of recycling aluminum cans. Rather, one has to be an audacious risk taker to make some fairly decent money."

-“What does this recycling entail?” Charlie asked, his curiosity piqued.

-“Well, he deals with copper, iron, even catalysts from pick-up trucks which are in high demand. Lately he’s focused on fire hydrant lids. Those fetch nearly Nine Hundred dollars.
There’s good money for an honest day’s work -- well figuratively speaking.
With today’s economy, most people are reluctant to part ways with little spare change, and one must improvise.” Jose reasoned.

-“Well, it does sound tempting, but I can’t see myself doing a getaway, and transporting and delivering those in my market cart.”

-“Don’t worry about that. They will pick you up and you can ride on the back of their van. The crew just needs to move stealthily and agilely. With that money we can share a weekly hotel room during the harsh winter. Imagine dunking into a scalding hot bath, and watching TV afterwards!” Jose sold the point home.

Just then a man dressed in dark slacks and a leather jacket, approached them. He looked with tenderness at them and asked: “Have you let the Lord into your life?”

-“Well, lookie here my man. Come closer and take a good look at us.
I am marginalized from society. I have to scrounge like a rat for sporadic nourishment. I’ve developed skin growths the size of nickels all over my back.
Do you think that we look as if we are the believing type?” Charlie said brimming with sarcasm.

-“My brothers, I know what ails you and trust me that the Lord can save you. Jesus Christ loves you!" He said with glowing passion.

“I know things are bad now my brothers, but God has spoken. He has warned that things will get even much -- much worst! Yet, He will provide for his flock all of the basic necessities.

Here take this pamphlet. Meet me this Saturday or Sunday at noon at this address. You will be fed a warm meal, and your spirit will not be hungry anymore either.
If you repent and let God into your heart, your addiction can be cured overnight. Together we will bring you back to life my brothers.” The man said, as he walked away as swiftly as he had arrived.

Charlie wrinkled the pamphlet, then changed his mind and read through it to divert himself from the relentless chill which seeped through his damp clothing.

-"You never did tell me how you ended up in this dumpster Jose." Charlie asked to change the subject.

-"This man reminded me Charlie, that the glacial hand of death is itching to snatch me. With all that I've done in my life; I know exactly where I would go." Jose said dejectedly, followed by incessant coughing.



To be continued….

Rotten Bananas IV

-“Rebeca was her name. She was the sweetest gal I’ve ever met. I remember that she used to bring me warm clothes and toiletries, and always something hot and delicious home cooked.
I recall that I would ravenously devour that food and it tasted like manna from heaven.
In turn, she would expertly devour my cock.” Jose mused with a faraway look.

-“So, how is it that she knew that you were in prison, and that she came to help you get out of there?” Charlie asked with skepticism.

-“I had been there for about three weeks, debilitated and sick as a dog. I had been beaten, and I was coughing up flem, wiping the running mucus with the caked sleeve of my shirt.
I had lost ten pounds in that stretch of time; in thanks to a bout with chronic diarrhea- they occasionally served rotten food!

Anyways, to summarize...I asked a new buddy whom I had saved from getting gang raped, since you know the cute boys are inserted into this facility in a peculiar way, upon arrival.
He therefore owed me. I asked him to ask his girlfriend to deliver a message from me to Rebeca.
In my feverish state, the only one I could think of was her because she was so cool, and I desperately needed help.

With antibiotics, I was able to arrest my severe coughing and sneezing.
When I was well again, I started bathing with icy cold water being the only option. Although in truth I would wash only the necessary parts of the anatomy with a wash cloth and soap provided by Rebeca.

I asked her to contact some business contacts…to get me a good lawyer and a review of my case. As you know the court system there is crooked in general. One can buy a lawyer or a judge with the right connections and affluence.”

-“Just like that you were able to get out of prison?” Charlie asked with mild curiosity.

-“Let’s just say that I had to sell my soul to the Devil in return. I was able to shorten my stay in purgatory, and went to repay my heavy debt. I was transferred to their Peruvian base and made a lot of money with high caliber deliveries for them, not bull shit envelopes. But guess what? I invested two-thirds in Clae which offered a 100% return investment.

-“Who is Clae?”

-“Son of bitches’ investment firm. They took the savings and most of the money of Ten Thousand people, with the promise of huge dividends. They initially paid investors a healthy return which fed the frenzy to want to invest with them.

Some invested their whole life savings; they sold their homes, cars to invest with these motherfuckers. This happened in 1988, I was almost wiped out.

I used what little I had left to get a new identity and passport, and headed to Mexico. There my business contacts were able to transport me comfortably into the United States, can you believe as if nothing? A customs official just looked the other way.” Jose said with mild cynicism.



To be continued….

Rotten Bananas III

-“Well Charlie, all I can say is that the world is a big beautiful place, with lots of beautiful women inhabiting it.

One woman should not be enough to destroy your life over.
But, considering your experience, you might agree with me that the most sincere, and satisfying women are the prostitutes.

They are not out to get your soul and drag it to hell for all eternity. They’re simply experts at fucking, without the bullshit games. Some even disperse pseudo-love as a bonus too.
In my time I’ve become quite attached to a few – literally and figuratively speaking of course.

Like most people, I’ve had my heart broken when I was a young man. That was the motivation I need to leave my small province, and want to see the world. I’m from the Pacific Coast, so I smuggled into one of the huge cargo ships, to where ever it would go.

I was able to stay hidden in the bowels of the ship; I had taken provisions for this.
So my ship lands in Argentina, where I am discovered when leaving my hiding post. Immigration and Custom officials asked me for documents, I said to them I have nothing to give you, nor money to pay.
I am kept for a few days, and they ask me where I wanted to go since I cannot stay there. I said anywhere, and they put me in a cargo ship heading to Colombia.

There is where I started my life as a sailor, and saw the world. I made a lot of money as a special courier, which allowed me to consort with the most beautiful women money can buy.

I lived in high style at every port, and I tell you brother each woman from a different region varies in looks, speaking manner, passion, and even taste depending on the diet of the region.
All I can say is that variety is a good thing.

Anyway, with time all wounds heal. The girl who broke my heart when she chose another over me, eventually became a distant memory of the past.

-“Sounds like you had a blast, let’s toast to that!” as they clicked whiskey bottles.
“So how did you end up in this dumpster Jose?”

-“Well, I was doing the courier service on the side, from my base in Colombia. I never opened the large envelope I was given to deliver. I simply did it and I was paid a Thousand dollars cash upon delivery.
I was doing it more frequently, and eventually I was caught.

I did some prison time Charlie, and I disagree with you that one can acclimate to living incarcerated. The one I was in was not for living; it was worst than a corral for pigs.
In a place like that, only money and your guardian angel can keep you alive – humanity and life are worth nothing.

We had no private cells; just inflatable mattresses scattered in one common room.
With the sea midst off the coast, one awoke to a damp, wet mattress shivering without coverlets of any sort.
Anything one needed such as clothes, food, medicine, and even a cell you had to pay for.

The ones doing hard time had to buy real state. The cost was $2,500 for a tiny cell. A lot of people developed respiratory problems due to the coastal midst and lack of warmth, but you would not be treated or given medicines, unless purchased.

A lot died there from malnutrition, pneumonia, or tuberculosis, which sadly spread rapidly among the others.

Food was just a handful of crap to entertain your stomach. But if you wanted vegetables, fruits, meat, one had to pay for it, or have someone bring it in from outside.

I had no one to do this for me, yet you know who helped me survive that stint and eventually get out?"

-“Who?” asked Charlie expectantly.

-“A prostitute I had known. She had a heart of gold and incredible teats. I always remember her fondly to this very day."





To be continued…

Rotten Bananas II

-“Once upon a time Jose, I had it all.

I had a pretty wife, a small cozy home, and a good job.
What else could I ask for -- perhaps a few kids? What I was not aware of then, was that I was a chimp.
It’s my fault too in a way. I refused to acknowledge what was evident to others.”

-“Why were you a chimp Charlie?”

-“Cause I was – I am. Look at me now. I am happy to score rotten bananas from the trash bins of the Central Market. Anyways, I did everything I was supposed to do – and more.
I paid all the bills; I would even clean the house, cook, and iron her uniform while she went to school to be a nurse. She had nothing to worry about besides her studies.

So, after she graduated, right away I saw how she changed. It was as if she was more important now, better somehow now that she was making more than me.
It started with her co-worker, another nurse picking her up for carpooling. He would visit also on days off, and they would exclude me and others from their conversations, or be on the phone on other occasions.

Anyways, one day my back was acting out, so I came home early from work. Everything is normal, until I see his car in the driveway. Something made me park out in the street and come in quietly. As I walked the long corridor to our bedroom, I could make out the grunting sound, like wild animals behind the closed door.

My heart was racing, and I almost felt lightheaded as my sweaty palm softly opened the door, just an inch or two. What I saw is something I will never forget Jose.

I saw that my loving wife was on her knees, getting fucked vigorously from the rear.
Her expression reflected on the closet mirrors doors, was one of excruciating pain, mingled with ecstasy. She was getting reamed like a common whore -- my own wife!

I was stupefied and rooted on the spot; It was shocking and disgusting to see how she was getting ridden like a mare in heat. Yet, I lost it when the nurse yelled to her 'You’re my bitch!' as he soundly slapped her ass while he sodomized her." Charlie said this with barely contained rage.

-“What did you do then?” Jose asked incredulously.

-“Like I said, I lost it. I wanted to tear his head off, and separate them. With a war cry I kicked the door in and jumped on the bed, and we became a circus of three. I delivering punches everywhere, I was so enraged that I was seeing red.

It was disgusting Jose. They were not even using condoms for anal sex!
This infuriated me even more, as the insulated small room took a surreal odor of sweat, raw passion, rage and shit.
So anyways, after I unplugged those two, I smashed his nose in. The bitch came out to defend him and started ridding on my back like a banshee and scratching my face.

Even though my back was out of whack, I was able to indiscriminately deliver the punches, even hitting her in the process.
The closet mirror doors cracked even when I grabbed him by the hair and slammed him against the mirrors over and over, until I almost knocked him unconscious and smeared his blood all over those.

In summary, I was arrested for domestic violence and aggravated assault. She put a restraining order against me, and I was barred from my own home. So, I let it go. I let everything go Jose. I was a mess and I could not produce at work. I lost my job, as well as my faith in God and humanity.

For a long time I harbored these dark fantasies of revenge. Curiously not towards her, but towards him. I wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt me. He had taken everything that I loved from me.
I had already been to jail anyways. It's not that bad in there after you acclimate." Charlie said with an eerie glint on his face.

-"I don't agree with you on that one Charlie, but tell me, did you take revenge?"

-"The only thing that would calm the rage consuming me like acid was the crutch of a drink. Eventually that was all I needed. I was lost in oblivion of drunkenness. Other times I simply curled up and cried like a baby.

So, I did not take revenge partly because sometimes I blamed myself too, and wondered if I had not been man enough for her. But I think that it was her own vanity that did her in. And what goes around, comes around anyways. He was married too, eventually he left her and stayed with his wife.

So, what’s your story Jose?” Charlie asked as he leaned back to rest comfortably on an improvised pillow of a trash bag.




To be continued…

Rotten Bananas

His eyes bulged like plump olives, accompanied with an expression of stark horror exalted on his face; which was rapidly changing to a hue of red.

- “Oh my God Charlie! What’s the matter buddy?” Asked Jose with genuine concern

Charlie could not formulate a reply; he was able only to grunt like a primate, while he thought that this was the end.

For what seemed an interminable moment, which traveled in slow motion, Charlie was panicked that his time had possibly come to an end. As miserable as his life was, he did not want to die now -- not this way. Charlie was able to swallow the knot of chow mien noodles which had obstructed his esophagus.

- “You see? That’s what you get for eating like a pig Charlie. Are you OK?”

Tears blurred his vision, as saliva started to accumulate and slither down the corners of his mouth. The trickle of tears created an irrigational system mapping his dirt-streaked face.

- “I was starving; I had not eaten since yesterday morning. I should have not greedily stuffed my face. But for a second there, I thought that I was a goner and it scared me. I think when one is about to depart, one does not want to let go. I would have died all alone here on the street, my body just another lump of waste to discard of properly.” Charlie said dejectedly.

- “What about me? You got me, I’m your friend!” Jose said reproachfully.

- “I know buddy, but you could have attempted to save me you know with the Heimlich maneuver. Anyways, having you as a buddy is great. But I feel so sad that no one who loves me would see me depart.”

- “Oh man, you are born alone, and one will die alone. Or you expect like the ancient tribes, that your wives will be sacrificed and join you in death? You’re a sentimental old fool!”

- “That I am a homeless fool does not make me inhuman dude. I don’t need a lot of stuff, but I still have feelings. You see Jose, once I was loved, and loved in return. And although life may harden, and embitter one, the only moment I felt alive and life full of wonder was when I was in love.

- “Love? My belly needs food and drink. If I’m shivering cold at three am, I need a jacket to cover me. That is what I need. Money too to buy me love anytime my friend. Hard cold cash does not let you down, where is your love now?” Jose said with a glint of avarice.

Charlie wiped the drool and tears with remnants of a white paper bag. This made his face appear cleaner and serene. His eyes took a misty quality, as he scanned the vaults of his memory.



To be continued…
-

Reflections

Yesterday, while conversing about inconsequential matters, someone commented that I have the saddest eyes.

I guess the eyes are the windows of the soul.


.

Manuel

Manuel


As Christmas approaches my thoughts are drawn to him
Soft-spoken, respectful, I enjoyed joking with him
Perhaps that lightened the burden of his monotonous, hard labor
I think it is no coincidence we’ve met on the street


The economy is bad I know; he is out in the cold
Forced to become a day laborer with hardly any results
Desperation forcing him to come with wife and daughter in tow
Begging for rent and food money, to be shown the door -- almost empty handed


He’d just gotten out of the hospital diagnosed with a hernia
Due to the bestial heavy labor of the past thirteen years
By chance we met one afternoon a few days later
I registered the alcohol in his breath; while he clutched a paper bag


The scent of desperation permeated like subtle cheap perfume
It was sad to see a proud, quiet man drinking away his sorrows
Remember when I advised you to acclimate to this country?
And to learn the language which is a necessity


I asked if he had a cell number to see if I could find something
He said with his growing family, he could not afford it
Evaluating his situation, I advised him on rental rights and legal options
When parting I said, operate on survival mode instinct


As Christmas nears, I ponder that a family will soon be homeless
With a baby in tow needing milk and diapers
Out in the cold, Nomads looking for shelter
Who will take pity on them on this Christmas eve?


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Rebirth

Rebirth



My eyes are dark and intense
I'm an old soul restricted by limited capacities
I’ve had to return to deal with outstanding debt
The lights are too bright; the noises too shrill
I miss the warm cocoon I was nestled in


With time I master my motor skills
My strong temperament is evident even since
From the start I long for love and nourishment
Hard to come by lost among the herd
I perceive that something is amiss


I feel the antagonism among those close to me
This scares me very much
The arguments, yelling, and suffering
Why oh why bring someone into this earth
Just my luck I have to endure this


Oh well, I muse as I hope someone cleans me up soon
At least one good thing to look forward to
I am impatient to find my soul mate again
Roaming this earth while paying his debt
Will we instantly recognize each other when we meet?


Or perhaps too late?
conditioning selecting our prospective mates?
forcing one to love someone dear as air from afar?
Surely that would be a colossal fine to pay
For love makes the perilous journey all the worthwhile

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Best friends until the end

Homeless dog tries to rescue his dying best friend on the highway in Chile. Sadly, it is too late.


Open Link:

Vanity

Vanity


Conductive to validation
Permits a stranger’s hands to map the valleys
Hills and crevices, if it shores up confidence
Pretending it is someone that loves me
I expect to read the approval monitored in his eyes


I am fascinated by her face
How it’s pulled tightly like pig skin across a sofa
The result, an anomaly of set features
While the skin on her neck and arms succumb to defeat
Enough injections and hair dye will just do the trick


We’ve come so far to be reduced to a rack of meat
It’s inherent value measured by its firmness
Choice grade A tender, succulent, and juicy
While the lower grade is reserved for dog food
How cruel are the mind’s tricks


Woman consider turning your back on vanity
Stop shaving, mutilating, and polluting your body
Stop drawing-in a happy face with the aid of make-up
You are a precious gem imbued with inherent qualities
The cup of life is nestled between your thighs


Then again, without a bag of tricks how else wrap a man
Around your little finger, without decorating like a Christmas tree
Although both not a necessity...
Vanity is a venue to validate my power
Eventually it will become my biggest enemy



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Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving


We seat at the table bulging with food
We vow our heads in thanks for yet another holiday
A chance to reunite with friends and family again
To forget this day the woes which erode tranquility


Animated chatter and laughter sets tone for this feast
One says “that’s enough; I have to watch my diabetes!”
That sucks to have so much food, and not be able to enjoy it all
While another eats as if to fill a bottomless void


We eat, until we cannot hold anymore
Or drink into a stupor of oblivion
As one contemplates what is there to be thankful for?
Or how unkind the passage of time can be


How can one feel so alone amid the chatter of people?
Yet later in the evening we are still hungry for more
Acknowledging that we are still orphans
Without someone to truly belong to


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Rain

Rain



Washes the filth away and soaks the earth
Making it fertile and pliant
The pungent scent of satiated earth that’s drank its fill
Assaults my senses, as I deeply inhale

Droplets of water from above
From the shower head those wash my body
Like hot tears rolling down my cheeks
Those redeem my spirit anew

Rain so beautiful to contemplate incumbent
In the folds of a comfortable place
One has a languid tendency to reminisce
Of a particular moment cherished memorable

The same man I found this morning
seated exactly at the same place
I acknowledge him with a passing nod
His desolate eyes framed his dirt-streaked face

I wonder for a moment if perhaps
His reminiscing moments during the relentless rain
Focused on the elusive heat of a warm bed
Or perhaps on the arms which once he embraced


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Grains of Sand

Grains of Sand





From atop the bridge the sun dazzles over the ocean

Throngs of people promenade on the pier to get in their quota of fun

Busy like ants, is there room for deep relaxation

On this hot California Sunday?




Obfuscated by the oppressive heat...

I made my way to the beach bellow

The over populated site, interrupted my a make-shift cemetery

Without respite under the brutal sun... a man hammers

Yet another white cross into the sand




Representative of each American soldier recently lost in Iraq

Thus far 4,155

I stop at the kiosk to pay my respects, and to see the pictures of those now gone

Smiling young men and women, their life cut short without even starting the race

I am surprised that row, upon row, I come upon pictures of Latinas




I imagine glossy hair incinerated into ashes, silky skin, orbs and hopes charred to a crisp

I turn towards the ocean and see people grilling their carne asada -- so carefree

Their robust forms oiled and tanning like on a barbecue pit

Their backs and callous feet turned away from the grisly sight

Just five feet away, and of the stark reality of war... elsewhere




It seems that life goes on as usual for everyone else

Yet for the mother making tamales this Christmas Day

A hot tear and a sob will escape, when facing the conspicuously empty chair

I wonder if people would awaken from the stupor if that very moment...

A dark cloud were to eclipse the brilliance of the sun



Then the ocean were to rise, and take the form of a colossal sea monster

Would I run to save myself, or would I stop to help an invalid or old man?

Why risk myself, when everyone is off to save their neck?

Only to find out there is no running from one self

And that one remembers God just then



The monster would swallow in its bottomless pit

Whole crowds as if mere grains of sand

It would come upon me and ask "Why should you be spared?

Have you also wasted your life without purpose

Your days drifted into naught, like sand through and hour glass?"



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Sleep with Me

Sleep with me



Envelop me in the comfort of your arms while our satiated bodies rest warmed by our collective body heat. Together we’ll travel to distant realms in spirit; unafraid to soar to unfamiliar shores, for we know we will watch each other’s back.


Luscious skin to skin contact like Velcro. Our hands, and lips roam freely knowing intimately every curve and every slope -- a special place to call home.
This place made so much more special and comforting when connected in a primal dance. A dance a deux ever so intimate when the eyes speak what the heart holds.


No room for extra baggage, insecurities, or regrets. Life is this moment – live right now!

Do not let the worries of the world which are plenty, intrude in this sanctuary atop your bed.


This special place is the circle of your arms -- a place to belong to.


Sleep with me tonight so that in the morning, we will appease our various appetites once again.

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Shame

Shame

It feels so strange and exhilarating

As I wonder what’s in store

Like a split pomegranate bursting with plump seeds

Leaking bright red rivulets of juice

I feel helpless as to the changes within

I feel ashamed and disconcerted

Like the day the budding flowers

Pushed forth my peach colored dress

Three ugly boys in school made a bet

As one dared to grab the unrestrained nascent fruit

I am still a child, yet my body says otherwise

I still play with Barbie dolls with my best friend

Ingrid is a year older – almost eleven years old

She made a big deal of her arrival

Yet also taught me to feel ashamed

Later I learned that it’s a curse

Bestowed on women for sins incurred

Seems fitting, a woman’s work is never done

I see women bearing great burdens

Along with nurturing a new life within

I really don’t like this business of growing up

My body growing hairs, and pillows

I dislike the looks I get while innocently walking by

Reminds me of those three mean boys at school

I cover my chest with a notebook, as I ignore them

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