Unlikely 2.0


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Let's Make It New

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Blacktop
by Pheadar O'Tyrrell

Don't ever forget this.
The most difficult thing any man will ever have to do is bury his dog.

Danny's arguing with his mom again. Each fever pitched epithet from the old woman drives Danny closer by word to doing her in. Great neighbors. Nothing gets hidden. Like sheets on the laundry line. Their whole life is on display for everyone's enjoyment. Crisp, white, dazzling brilliance of wind blown conversation.

Jimmy calls. He's got another new credit card. Must be the smartest guy on the block. No idea how many he's had. Gets a new one, calls everyone he knows and takes em' all out for a party until the card limit is crapped out. We each pay our own way to sobriety and go home laughing...no one knows how he does it but it's damn near a weekly thing. Sooner or later he says...gonna' get a platinum one! Buy a car and drive to Pittsburgh. Says he's got a cousin there that's a wounded vet. Hasn't seen him in years. They talk a lot on the phone. Probably won't say two words to each other face to face. Jimmy's like that with his family. Always on the phone. For hours. Talks about everything and anything. Then, when one of the family comes to visit. Like a funeral home. Not a whisper. It's tough to visit with Jimmy when family's around. So we leave him alone until they're gone.

Louie the Weird is on the street. Walks a few yards. Stops. Screams "FUCK". Walks a few more yards and does it again. Doc says it's a disease. Most of us just think he's fucking nuts or something. If you catch him between fuck sessions you find out he knows a lot about baseball. It's just damn hard to get all the info on your favorite team while every few moments he's hollering "FUCK" and continuing on perfectly from where he left off. Jamal loves to be with him and as soon as Louie gets a "FUCK" off....Jamal hollers "YOU." What a team. Jamal knows nothing about baseball. No clue as to why Louie lets him hang out. Sometimes when I watch them, it's like watching two people balanced on a see-saw in the playground. I suppose they're good for each other.

Mike and Louise are out in the front. Mike's pissed off because the car was towed away last night and it cost him two hundred bucks to get it back. Damn thing sat in front for eight years. Never did run but Louise kept stuffing things into it and it was her extra room. Nobody messed with it. Everyone knew Louise kept her stuff in it. Everyone respected her "room". Few months ago someone stole all the wheels and left the thing just sitting on the street like an old bone. Fifty-seven Nash. Two tone. Brown and tan. Good glass and all. Mike washed it from time to time. Cops came along and set a ticket on it. Said Mike would have to move it. Tickets piled up. Mike never took ‘em off the window. Tow truck comes about three in the morning and takes it away. Louise is out in her nightgown cussing the driver. Cops tell her to shut up or she's going too. Last word from Louise as she slams the door on the cops...."Eat shit pork people"! Mike's at work during this little episode. Comes home about eleven in the morning with the car on a trailer and dumps it right back where it was. Twenty or so people cheered as it settled back into its rightful place. Louise came out all smiles, checked briefly, through the windows, sure that nothing was gone. Grabbed Mike by the front of his trousers and pulled him into the house. Haven't seen either of them for two days.

So now, Nora's got a cat. Well, a kitten. Nora is eight. Kitten...unknown. Maybe a few months old. This is some cat. Everywhere Nora goes, so does that cat....reluctantly. Nora has a way of holding on to this furball that would scare most. I'm surprised the thing is still alive. By the neck, one leg, the tail. Happily, it just hangs there. Most of the time purring. Cat's got to be on drugs. Ice cream truck comes by and the cat gets its own ice cream bar. Free. Good guy, that ice cream man.


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