impatient voice in Room Valiant with
his sometimes macaroni breath.
Pal means friend.
Who is my one and only pal and
friend in world so far?
Jer, Jer alone.
T
oday is: Job Three Per Jer: Real
biggie.
Real biggie = more big than anything
yet in terms of our standing for poor and
sick, defending weak from oppressors.
Job Three Site is in wild grass field
Where per Jer, Indians once started up
there, on hill, then swept whooping down,
past here.
Up there, now (from where, long ago,
Indians started down): ChickenFuego.
I could go for some of that, says Su-
pervisor Marty.
More BastardTurdCreepIdiots than
ever before Jer nervous Marty ner-
vous All Supervisors nervous Police
nervous.
Hey, check this out, says Marty. Is
that a frigging arrowhead?
Bends to get.
Ugh, stupid regular rock, says Marty
Throws at phonepole.
Uh-oh, says Jer.
Suddenly two BastardTurdCreep
Idiots Arms joined as one Come flying
through Police Into us Are among us.
Punch goes the Vince with the long
hair Kick goes him and two Conors
A Vince with short hair gives a kick
Soon a crowd is around those down-
punched down-kicked two Here
comes three additional to rescue their
More Gregs and Vince and Conors
rush over Soon their rescue men need
rescue One rescue man is a truefighter Too bad for him To stop his
fighting takes So many punches and
kicks that Soon no way is he getting
up Or fighting Or moving At all.
Some ChickenFuego folks on break
look down upon us, hands on heads, as
if they find our fighting amazing.
What a clusterfuck, Jer says.
Eek, shit, cameras, says Marty.
Coming down former Indian hill:
Line of men and ladies with, I guess,
cameras? Their cameras different from
camera in our HandiPic Which is
to be held in one hand By smiling
grandma pointing it at moose in canyon.
Why is it all them over here, and us
beating them up? says Jer. Why can’t
we get a few of us over there, and them
beating us up?
Good question, says Marty.
All across the world, country, what-
ever, who right now looks like the bad
guy? says Jer.
We do, says Marty.
Longhair Vince wanders out from
the fighting.
Jer: Vince, hey, buddy. Up for a chal-
lenge? Fun challenge?
Vince drops into weary sit Look-
ing down at one red hand Like one
red glove.
Poor Jer My pal Woke happy
today But no Job Three, real big
gie is clusterfuck My sad pal Does
so much for all with his so many wor
ries at home such as: Sandi about to
leave his sorry ass for Terence, New
Age douche at her work unless Jer gets
some shorter work hours going pronto.
I place myself so Jer’s eyes may
find me.
89! Jer says. Greg!
Jer comes close, voice goes soft.
I need you to do me a solid, 89, Jerry
says. Will you? For the Job? For me?
For Meg, for Kennedy B.?
For you, I say.O
ver I go Between two Police
Where’s that old fart think he’s
going? shouts one.
Over there! I say.
Then am among BastardTurdCreep
Idiots Bellowing Bastard, Turd, Creep,
bellowing Idiot.
Heads turn Eyes go: Why so rude?
Then come fists Once I am good
and down: kicks Ouch Ouch Ev-
erything going as planned Jer, please“Just think of it, Charles—yesterday I was a caterpillar,
and tomorrow I’ll be dead!”