The Feet of God

90 - NO REST FOR THE WEARY The beams of light shining in the trees bounced up and down and left and right, tilting with every groove on the narrow dirt path.   Finally a yellow Jeep emerged and pulled into a clear space by our little campsite. In the moonlight I saw a large man haul himself out and head straight in our direction. “I’m lookin’ for some ex-carnies in need of friends.   That’d be you?” His strawberry hair and gingerbread beard glowed amber in the firelight.   He had a chubby face and big cheeks, like ripe red apples, and big white teeth in his capacious toothy mouth.   He sorta looked like what you’d imagine Santa might look like at around age thirty.   He had on blue jeans and a white T-shirt under an old beat-up leather jacket. Able seemed cautious.   “We weren’t never near no carnies, in fact, hate the freaks, but we’re expectin’ to meet up with some friends of friends.   You them?” “I’m cousin Cleet’s second-cousin, if tha...

91 - THE LIVING DEAD I got a bad feeling in my stomach as we followed Roger’s yellow Jeep along a gravel road that stretched around the back of the lighted crosses and downward toward a dirt square next to a man-made pond.   Roger halted and indicated we should do likewise.   The trailer and the van came to a grinding stop. I asked Charlie, “Where are we?” “Damned if I know.” “You don’t know?” “Alabama?   I dunno.   Maybe like Alabama someplace,” he shrugged while he unshackled me. Then there came an overpowering smell.   “Do you smell that?”   I took a chance on complete honesty.   “Listen,” I turned to Baker, “you know what that is, don’t you?” “What?” “Meth.” I knew a meth lab when I smelled one, being from the wrong side of the railroad tracks in Bakersfield.   We stood there in a lot they called the Christ’s Corral, and there was definitely a meth lab located nearby. Then I spotted about two dozen skinny, pale zombies with...

92 – SPREAD’N THE CRAZEE After Roger ventilated Able’s cranium, me and Charlie didn’t linger to watch the body drop, or figure out what was happenin’.   We just ran straight back to the van like our lives depended on it. Dunno what happened to Baker in the sudden eruption of chaos and violence.   Maybe he made it back to the semi?   Who cares? I yelled over to Charlie, “I knew there was something weird about that guy.” Charlie didn’t reply as we both jumped in the van.   He fumbled furiously in his pocket for keys, then managed to start the engine. “Fuckin’ meth heads.” The words hadn’t gotten past Charlie’s lips when there was a loud thump against the windshield.   A streakin’ speed freak jumped his naked body onto the front of the van and began to howl like some demon-possessed animal.   He spread himself across the glass hanging onto…I’m not sure what.   His face was covered in sores and scabs.   His open mouth exposed rotted teeth,...

93 - AN UNEXPECTED TREAT As we drove for hours an’ hours into a gray creamy light, clouds broke and begun to sprinkle a light rain.   We continued down the twisted road. I looked out the remaining windows.   “Where are we?” Charlie tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, “Well, there’s a sign.” We passed by a peeling, hand-painted sign:   Crawdad ‘n Gator - 3 miles “Guessin’ we’re three miles from Crawdad, ‘bout near where Gator is. ” I just kept looking out the window, now watch’n the rain start to fall in sheets as everything darkened.   Soon we passed by another wooden sign:   Jambalaya 2 ½ miles Neither of us spoke much, but we both took note of the sign. The next sign said:   Don’t miss Okra 2 miles And then:   Eat 1 ½ miles Then:   Hungry for Hush Puppies? 1 mile “I’m thinkin’ I could use somethin’ to eat,” I rubbed my empty belly. “Me, too.”   Charlie turned to me.   “You got any money?” I shot him a cross...

94 - TROUBLE SEEMS TO FOLLOW ME “So, where the hell are we?” Charlie asked, swallowin’ another spoonful. “Swamp,” the chef answered. “What?” Charlie asked, tilting the bowl into his mouth. “Swamp,” our host raised a huge Black hand and pointed his long finger out the back window. Charlie slurped some more.   “Oh, yeah, swamp.   What swamp?” “Jus swamp.” “All right, then,” Charlie spit something onto a dish next to his bowl.   “What’s your name?” “Tiberius.” Charlie tilted the bowl back again as he spoke.   “Tiberius?” The dude propped himself upright.   “Tiberius Juneteenth Jones.” Charlie leaned back and pushed his empty bowl forward for a second serving. “Well, Tiberius, that’s a great name.   Yeah, sure, great name.   And great gumbo, too.   That’s what you call it?   Gumbo?   I don’t know much about your soul food quizeen.   But that’s some great gumbo, if that’s what it is, that’s for sure.” Tiberius b...

95 – GETTIN’ CLOSER Me ‘n Charlie sat like two stone lawn ornaments while the lawman drove away.   Tiberius lingered outside on the porch.   Next thing I knew, Charlie stood up and slowly made his way out the screen door to stand behind the hulking Tiberius.   Words was exchanged between the two in low tones I couldn’t quite hear.   Then they both walked over to the parked van.   Charlie opened the back door and pulled out some clothes, tools, odds ’n ends, and piled ‘em off to the side.   While they was busy I refilled my bowl, and engorged on as much gumbo as my craw could stand.   No telling when I’d be enjoying the next supper with free seconds. I watched out the window as Tiberius and Charlie rolled that van over to a low mud embankment and gave it a final shove, where it soundlessly slipped down into the purest blackest water you ever saw, under a near-full moon, without hardly a trace. Both men returned to the shack just as I drained a las...

96 - MORE GOOD ADVICE My eyes begun to droop.   I couldn’t remember when I last had a really good night’s shuteye.   As I faded I thought of my lap-dancing sister back at The Stardust Lounge.   My body jerked and my eyes shot open.   That was a mistake.   I didn’t know.   As soon as I found out Baby Harmonica was really a blood-relation I went straight to her, and I wanted more’n anything to tell her who I really was, except we got drunk at the Bark ’n Bowl in Bakersfield, and then she went out and completely disappeared on me. Eyes…droopin’ again…so tired…almost too tired to fall asleep.   I hate it when you’re still half-conscious but seeing images before your eyes, not hallucinating, but not exactly dreaming either.   Damn, then I noticed everyone started showing up…. Little Billy jumped around and displayed his disturbing habit of appearing naked again, peeing on the ground where exotic plants and shrubs burst out all over, and flowers b...

97 - SOME COMFORT FROM THE STORM I heard the rain before I felt it.  Big drops plopped down around me like fat water balloons, and everything turned to mud.   Faster an ’ faster the rain came down until I was soaked in a driving downpour.   With all this going on I heard an engine roar up behind.   I swung around, my thumb extended in the air as if by instinct, then headlights blinded my tired ol’ eyes.   And damn, if that Mustang didn’t slow down. It was a silver convertible, but I didn’t linger with the admiring.   It rolled to a stop and I slipped into that car as fast as I could. “Thanks a lot, you really saved my ass.”   I settled in the passenger seat.   I was jabbering away in gratitude before I took a real look-see who the driver was.   Whoa!   Talk about your answered prayers!   I was now outta the raging rainstorm and sitting next to one really hot babe in a polka dot dress. She sounded nearly breathless, “I could...

98 - ANGEL OF THE MORNING Suddenly it was light, but my eyelids was riveted shut against the blinding glare of the morning sun.   I detected the faint hum of an electric motor folding the convertible top back. “Huh?”  I squinted and blinked, trying to shield my eyes in all the light.   I awoke to find myself reclined on the passenger side of a car, and the first thing I could make out was the blonde babe peering down at me. “Here we are.”   She pulled over to a curb.   “Hit the road, Jack.” She didn’t look so pretty in the early light, but I guess I should’a expected as much. “Whoa, I fell asleep?   The last thing I remember…hey, wait a minute.” She leaned across me and opened the door.   “Start walking.” I noticed we was stopped by the edge of a filling station with gas pumps, palm trees, and cars and trucks whizzing by. The blonde driver took a moment to primp and preen in the rear view mirror.   She applied a ton of red lipstick...

99 - SHADY PALMS I took my place by the side of the road, extending my thumb in the classic pose.   And glory be if I didn’t snatch me a heavenly host right off the bat.   A dark blue Chrysler glided to a stop.   I went over to the door and hopped in.   While I strapped on my seatbelt I noticed an older gentleman sitting behind the wheel, wrinkly and wiry, bald and speckled in liver-spots, and all hunched over.   His pants was hiked up to his chest, but short on the inseam, exposing two pale ankles to the upper calf. “Ain’t goin’ far.   But I always stop for hitchers.   I used to hitch when I was in the Merchant Marines on shore leave.   I always stop for hitchers.” “I appreciate that,” I smiled. “Where you headed, son?” he asked. Before I could say anything the old guy butted in, “I’m just goin’ up the road to Stuffey’s for some coffee and pie.   Senior discount most days, you see.” I gazed out the window for distraction. “But ...

100 - I ENDED UP IN A BAR…AGAIN So out to the roadside I went.   Traffic passed as I looked around, and damn, there was palm trees and palm bushes and palm shrubs everywhere.   But except for the road and the motels and the shops, the land was all flat, flat, flat, as far as the eye could see.   The sky was brilliant blue, and the air was sweet if you could get past the smell of truck exhaust. But looking wasn’t moving.   I wanted to get away from the cop and the crazy old man who wanted pie more’n life, it seemed, so as fast as I could I walked away along a road with my back to the traffic, arm uplifted, thumb extended. A battered Toyota pulled in front of me.   I wasn’t sure if this slob was stopping for me or what.   I didn’t dwell on the matter.   I run up and pulled open the rusty dented door. “Hey, sorry, I wasn’t sure you’d stopped for me or just to stop,” I apologized, and snapped the seatbelt across my chest. He asked, “Where ya head...

101 - I GOT A CLUE Didja ever wonder where old strippers go to pasture?   Yep, just like everyone else it seems, the Sunshine State.   And some of ‘em was supplementin ’ their Social Security benefits working at The Ba-Zoom-Zoom Room. Aside from the name of this place, I had no idea where I was.   All I knew for sure was it was early in the day, and I was in damp clothes sittin’ with some slob in a topless bar.   I watched a gyrating female dancer on stage with rings in her nipples who grumbled and strained as she squatted down to allow my friend to insert rolled-up dollar bills. The waitress with humongous jugs reappeared and slammed down an orange drink in front of my seatmate.   “Here’s your screw.   On the house.”   She turned to me and placed a napkin on the table and gently put the beer on the napkin.   “That’ll be eight bucks, sugar.” I fished out a $20 I’d hidden in my sock.   (It was a bill I managed to save from that rapaci...

102 - TIME TO BEAT IT I finally made my way back to the table, grabbed my beer, and begun ponder’n my next best move.   I figured I should get a move on before my freebie brew could be claimed as fair-trade goods for a restroom boots-knocking with the waitress.   (I wasn’t looking for any trouble, especially with an ex-husband hang’n around.) A bare-chested hag danced her way out onstage when virtually all the gentlemen in the club started making their way for the door.   The neon pink clock over the bar showed 10:45 a.m., so this must’a been early lunch at Pedro Wong’s. It was time to go.   I chugged my beer and ditched my titty bar slob companion.   Crouching down between two old ass-biscuits in motorized wheelchairs, I exited The Ba-Zoom-Zoom Room unnoticed if not unseen. Damn if it didn’t work.   The big-busted waitress who’d made eyes at me (and never collected for my first beer) was too busy sponging up quarter tips to notice I was leaving. ...

103 - THEY KNOW MORE THAN THEY’RE SAY’N These two ball-scratchers had one of those four-doors and a backseat in the cab.   Shiny white with lots of chrome.   On the door I noticed a circle in red lettering:   Cruz Fruit Co.   I climbed into the backseat while they stood outside and yammered some more in Español .   (Even after all those years in California, I never could get the hang of their lingo.) I sat quiet just listening to them.   And I noticed they was pretty well dressed for farmhands with their pressed Lacoste shirts and everything, and clean jeans and expensive running shoes.   I had no idea what they was talking about, but whatever it was, they amused themselves no end. Finally I broke in over their laughing, “Hey, we gonna vamoose or what?” “Oh, so sorry, meester.   I was jus telling my brother wheech road we need to take.” The other one nodded and grinned.   “ Si .” “You guys from Mexico?” I asked. “ Cubanos .” T...

104 - HOT & BOTHERED We got off the highway for a dirt access road.   A sign at the side said: CRUZ & KARTONE FRUIT & PRODUCE The truck bounced across troughs and ditches and we passed a lot of orange groves along the way.   Off in the distance, down different rows of trees I could see other trucks, big trucks, filled with oranges and people all doing stuff I couldn’t quite make out. “Wow, this is a pretty big spread.”   I was impressed with the scope of the operations.   “Your granddaddy must be a rich man.” Hector shrugged and smiled, “ Si .” Esteban smiled, “ Padrino worked for thee goverment.” “That so?   He must’a been pretty important to afford all this.” Esteban pulled out a perfecto and lit it.   Between puffs on the cigar he explained, “ Padrino was close to thee Americanos who ran Havana.   CIA, prostitutes, mafia.   Thee usual.   Ju know?   He cashed hees weenings an loaded a boat with Yankee dol...