The stars zipped past me as I lay still in the desert sand. It was 1954 and I tried to make sense of where I was and where I was heading. The moon laughed and then turned his black & white face to gawk at the comets chasing me. This was the most bizarre night out this year, so far, so far out.
The sirens grew louder, lizards sprang out of the bushes and stared with their huge round eyes and then pointed North towards the valley. I thought to myself, ‘What the heck, they know this desert better than me, so why not?’ So there I was heading North in a frigid cold that would freeze your spit before it hit the ground, but I was sweatin’ and I don’t mean I was scared or anything.
Five minutes ago I was cruising on my mighty FL Panhead and all was dandy and peaceful. Then the truck stop exploded in chaos and there were gunshots and knuckles cracking everywhere. I just stepped out of ‘Caveman Toast’, a laid-back tavern for cheap liquor and cheaper women. I remember clearly it was all quiet when I stepped out and mounted my steed. ‘Whatzz am I miszzing?’
I floated on trying to recall the sequence of events, ‘lets see, rewind me myself. Walking out of Caveman’. I paid my tab so it’s not about the money. I fondled plenty of women and they didn’t complain. I ran into a dude with a long coat and longer nose, yeah I called him ‘Pinocchio’. He didn’t appreciate the humour. There was something else fleeting, about the Tin Man, who was supposed to make me rich. Of course, I stepped out, heading to my new job at the plant. They make fine stuff. “That was cocaine I inhaled, that explains the talking coyote I waved at just now,” I said that aloud and wondered if the moon heard it and would start laughing at me again.
So I had some coke, no one knows that except dear ol’ Pinocchio and me. ‘Then how come there are cops chasing me?’ I am not speeding and the road is straight though my ride looks like it has some NASA-like buttons blinking on it. I think I’ll be out of gas and in the lock up soon enough.
He didn’t seem like an undercover operative. He spotted me at the previous bar-stop. Yes, he had approached me there as well. He had a nice blade he was wiping clean and the barman looked worried. I had gone to the unisex loo before exiting that joint, I could still remember the stench.
Weird how smell and sound can affect you. The senses are delightful unless you have horrible memories creeping out of your hideous closet. The stench transported me to World War II. I was 16 and had joined the armed forces just so I could see Europe. Are kids freakin’ stupid or what?
There I was picking up arms and legs. I had to catalogue them so they could go home to their rightful grievers who could bury them and salute the tombstone on every July 4th. The stench of rotting bodies was more haunting than the sight of the massacre. It entered my pores and I smelled like my brothers in arms. I was one of them, yet I was not doing enough to save them. A head split open with a shell, a bullet that tore the arm at the elbow, a scrap of human waste from a tank that rolled over it. I smelled like that tonight.
Back at Caveman, Pinocchio had offered me his coat to keep me warm after we had our rounds of the good stuff. I slipped my hand into the right side pocket with my left hand as I continued floating across the Milky Way. The cold tip of the blade suddenly made my sweat stop as it was making its way across my scarred rugged face. ‘I am the scapegoat and no one will miss me’. I sat up from my slumber and decided to stop for gas even as the sirens blasted on from the chasing comets behind me.
The Shell gas stop came up to my right and I slipped in to fill my tank. The Ed Roth skull sticker stuck to the tank still sported his shiny grin. I filled up and a patrol car pulled over behind me in a ’53 Ford. The copper walked carefully towards me, no weapon in his hand.
“You been to the Caveman joint lately Mister?” he asked, almost politely.
“Well sure, had a few drinks but I am sober now.” I answered to the alien comet man.
“Well we had a guy on the inside at the bar and he says you exchanged that coat with a guy, a guy with a long nose”, the comet man is a genius; I guess Flash Gordon is a good mentor.
“Oh yeah and this stinks, I would take it off but its cold tonight.” I said looking at the ugly coat I was covered in.
“Well Sir, I am going to have to confiscate the coat since the guy is a suspect in a murder.” The comet man said very intently staring at my fingers and shoulders, as if to judge if I was about to get physical.
“Okay, no problem”, I sighed and took off the rag faster than the stars could twinkle.
“Drive carefully and thank you. Good Night!” the comet man got in his fireball and the siren grew distant as it sped away into the black space.
I looked at the blackness grow wider and my hand slipped into my back pocket to yank out a picture of my ladylove. “She was so sweet, she shouldn’t have left me. Too bad Pinocchio killed her. I had asked him to do so on a coke-laden whim.”
I rode on as the moon hid itself behind cloud curtains.
Copyright Ujjwal Dey 2005
