The Third Step--The Smoking Gun and the Coughing Nails, a Real Read Herring by Al Lucas

Author:Al Lucas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lime Press LLC
Published: 2021-08-30T03:41:26+00:00

Zen

Chilli needed a fresh supply of scripts. Paul was able to dump her and deal with his own issues after half a day of trips to those by-now famous rural happenings. On his own front, a VA CAT scan had proved negative. He was still healthy. His house was a tomb, however. The radio was silent. The magazines, unread. The place looked like shit. All the rubbish was on the floor. The roaches were sneaking in and out. His entire array of supplements cluttered the coffee table. Three rats had been recently killed in mousetraps.

It was time for a housecleaning. He kept the radio off but read his weekly collection of The New York Times, which had yet to fill the garbage can. Finally, he got off his ass and did his laundry. He swept up the floor. He made sure the dishes were stacked in the sink. The home was by no means spotless, but it was acceptable to his gaze.

He was the ultimate bachelor. He would not seek a job to satisfy the working public, nor would he buttress his fortress with an intruder. He had tried substitute teaching. He had tried enumeration with the Census Bureau. They both were suspect accomplishments. He remembered the old Assembly, Basic, COBOL, and Fortran days as a student when he had mastered the languages, but not the workplace. It was too late now.

He was virtually unemployable, the yardstick of compensation. The roadmap was laid out, spend that 100 percent. But how? He couldn’t drink. He stared emptily at the four walls of his abode. Enlightenment would be nice. He went into a trance.

Paul, step forth. Enjoy the riches that are yours. As goddess of growing up, I remember you in high school as someone who desperately wanted deep sadness because it was easier to obtain than light joy. I saw you disappear then reappear from the world of drugs and darkness. Can you hear me?

Paul heard.

I remember you with the steely gaze, who could look right into the marrow of a girl. There was the pure Paul, the seeker of pulchritude. Somewhere, you lost it. Whatever happened? It doesn’t matter. You’re doing the right thing now. Continue to help people. You have everything in place. All the dominoes are falling in place.

Was this a true reflection? He hadn’t even done his early morning routine of showering and shaving, and here he was hearing voices.

The money you have now can be used in marketing your book. Meanwhile, Chilli is a body of impenetrable armor. If only she would give up and surrender. How low does a girl have to go? If only she’d learn that she didn’t have to use and didn’t have to sell her body. She believes it’s inevitable, that that is her, and it is, but she’s more. She must find it. No one can stand the stress of the physical abuse she puts herself through. Nobody can operate under the mindful control of crack. Paul, either convert her or pass her over.

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