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Twisting all the bad things into good

Dec 17, 2011

The Nitty Gritty, 26: Field of Bad Dreams

 

 Don't even think about reaching me
 I won't be home
  PJ, Footsteps 



            I was in my lobby when Jeff calls. I'm lounging in the yellow chair that I couldn't force into the elevator.
            This call came in on the red phone, the one that worked. It was the first time it rang since Friday.
            He immediately wants to know what I'm doing.
            "I'm getting ready to go up to Publix. Why, what's up?"
            "Everybody's worried about you" he tells me.
            I assume he means our friends who were partners in the treasure discovery conglomerate corporation "fucking company".
            So, my employees are starting to worry about me, huh?
            Friends or not, heads are going to roll.
            "There's nothing to worry about. Everything is cool".
            Everything is not cool. Nothing is cool.
            Jeff wants to know who I'm with. I tell him I'm hanging out with Betsy and DJB.
            "You're hanging out with Betsy and DJB?"
            He knew what a piece of shit DJB was and what happened on the boat. I thought that he was worried that in my naivete, I was allowing DJB to slither his way into stealing our riches. 
            "Yeah, but it's cool" I assure him.
            "Don't go anywhere. I'm coming over. I'll be there in 5 minutes".
            Don't go anywhere? This kid's forgetting who's boss.

    
            I don't like people telling me what to do, so I get up and walk through the parking garage to find DJB. He wasn't at my car, so I walk outside. Jeff is already there. He is arguing with DJB.
            "Stay away from Jimmy!" he demands. "I know what you're trying to do".
            Like the proverbial dog to his own vomit, DJB returns to his old ways.
            He starts threatening Jeff. Jeff doesn't react well to threats. He reaches into his green pick up truck, that actually belonged to a neighbor. He pulls out an aluminum baseball bat and starts swinging for the fences like Mark McGwire on meth. If he connects, it's going to be "lights out" like in the last scene of The Natural.
            Wow, Jeffy J is crazy as fuck.
            I thought I was the crazy one.
            I guess I am.
     
            I run over and stop him before he turns DJB's head into some lucky fan's souvenir. I pull him aside and tell him DJB has changed his ways. Jeff is angry at me for not seeing what DJB is trying to do. I start thinking that he may be right and that I am being taken for a fool. Jeff looks over my shoulder and starts laughing his ass off. I turn to see what is so funny.
            DJB is sitting on his scooter. It is actually my neighbor's scooter that I had seen countless times in the parking lot. I did not recognize it because it was now bright red, white, orange, and yellow. It also has a sign on the front with a clown face on it.
            Under the clown's face, it reads, "I do parties".
            "You're working as a party clown now?" Jeff can't stop laughing.
            Apparently, besides killing off all of his porn cronies, DJB lost his millions and had resorted to wearing over sized shoes at children's parties, where I pictured him making animals out of balloons and a fool out of himself. I guess they didn't do a background check.
            I am embarrassed for him as Jeff berates this clown's new career.
            Jeff tells me to get rid of this guy. Maybe I need to remind Roy Hobbs who's boss, but I can wait until after he puts the Louisville Slugger away.
            I go tell DJB that I need to sort some things out with Jeff and he should probably just leave. He asks me about flying me up to my father's funeral the next day. I tell him not to worry about it. He still wants to buy me groceries so he will wait for me at Publix.
            He scoots off and I go to my neighbor's truck, thinking Jeff is inside. I knock to let him know the passenger door is locked. He won't unlock it, so I just keep knocking.
           "Dude, come on. Let me in". I knock harder. I give up out of frustration after a few minutes and walk back to the garage. My roommate is standing there watching me. He looks very concerned. Again, he tells me to not go anywhere because Jeff is on his way. I'm still a bit frantic from the confrontation between Ken Griffey Johnson and Porno the Clown. I ignore him and walk to my car. I am unlocking it when Jeff calls me.
            This was another "red phone" call.
            This was not a delusion.
    
            "Hey, what's up?" I ask.
            I begin pacing the garage.
            "You need to call your dad" Jeff tells me.
            I can't believe what he is saying. My best friend is telling me to call my dead father. He was the one who got everyone together for the memorial party on Sunday. This was not funny. Not at all.
            "Why the fuck would you say that?"
            "You need to call him".
            "Why would you say something like that? What the fuck is wrong with you? My dad is dead".
            "Your dad's not dead. I just talked to him".

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