Swindle Shack Singalong, Chapter 13: “Pizza”

 

c. 2025 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(9-25)

 

 

I had been at my desk throughout the morning, sorting through unread postal mail, and tackling neglected chores. Odd jobs that were tedious and tiresome. Yet important to address. A yawn of indifference sounded, as I remembered leaving the coffeemaker on, in my kitchen. Something that, by now, would have boiled the caffeinated beverage down to a rude residue of black mud. But as I was about to struggle out of the roller chair, a ringtone chirped from my cellular device. One associated with the Messenger app. An indication that I was about to speak with someone outside of my usual group of contacts.

 

A facial profile of Kookshow Baby appeared on the screen as I answered.

 

“RAWD! HEY, Y’ALL KNOW I BEEN BUSY AS HECK LATELY! BUT I GOT A SPARE MINUTE TO TALK RIGHT NOW. PICK UP YER DAMN PHONE!”

 

I wheezed a bit while leaning back in the chair. Her insistent demand, after weeks of no contact at all, rattled my composure. Still, I was curious about any details that she might have to offer.

 

“Yeah, what’s up? I’m here in the home office. You caught me early enough that I haven’t started drinking yet. Maybe that’s a good thing...”

 

The radio queen seemed shaken. Her voice hushed to the level of a whisper.

 

“It’s Terry, I got to tell ya some awful news. Y’all know he’s been in the hospital, in Los Angeles, right? Well, I know that feller is one tough son-of-a-gun. But there’s only so much a body can stand. He’s ridden his last rodeo, I’m afraid. That dude is off to the great beyond now, with Roy Rogers and the Lone Ranger!”

 

I was stunned to the point of a brain freeze. I could not see, hear, or think.

 

“WHAT???”

 

Kookshow had started to sob, openly.

 

“It’s over, Rawd. It’s all over. The movie credits are rolling. El fin, cowboy! It’s the end!”

 

I could barely breathe. A stray yield of coffee dribbled from my shaggy beard. I slammed both fists on my desktop. This forceful act toppled an Elvira figure that was next to the iMac computer.

 

“What’s it been, three years, battling? He’s a strong guy, a genuine ox of a man. I figured this was just another setback, like what happened before...”

 

My west-coast cohort sniffled and sneezed into a checkered handkerchief.

 

“I could sure use a friend right about now. Why the hell did y’all go home to Ohio, Rawd? I’ve been mindin’ the ranch all by myself. Cats and streaming platforms, and stacks of old videodiscs and tapes, everywhere! It’s more’n a woman can handle by herself. Even a crazy filly like me!            Gawdamm!”

 

I had no coherent reply to provide.

 

“So, you’re at the abandoned drive-in by yourself?”

 

She had begun to croak like a feminine frog.

 

“Yes, dammit! I’m just tryin’ to be a help, not a hindrance, Ya know?”

 

Suddenly, I had become very thirsty. Sobriety did not fit the moment.

 

“My neighbor with the 18-wheeler hasn’t had any runs out west in a few months. That was my ticket to ride. Otherwise, I can’t cover a coast-to-coast run right now...”

 

Kookshow blubbered sorrowfully, before clearing her throat.

 

“I know, I know. Y’all are stuck back there in flyover country! It’s a shame though, ‘cause I’d be happy to see yer ugly mug in my trailer window. I need a companion. Things ain’t never been this lonely at the CRAGG compound! My heart is a-breakin’ fer Tiffany!”

 

I needed a deep breath to settle my nerves.

 

“Let me go see the trucker again. Who knows, maybe he’s picked up some new assignment. I’ll be in touch, you can count on it...”

 

The headstrong femme was silent for a brief interlude. Then, she ended our conversation with an unexpected interjection, and a click of the call icon.

 

“I LOVE Y’ALL, RAWD! YA BIG, DUMB, HILLBILLY ASSHOLE!”

 

I had been in my chair for so long that getting up presented a daunting, physical challenge. So, before meeting that task, head-on, I finished the lyric verses that were still on my monitor. An extra measure of emotion flowed from this poetic exercise, as I finished.

 

Drink and Pizza

 

Drink and pizza, fortified for days

A restless rascal, alone for an extended stay

Not much on my plate, but a banquet of consequence

Tired and testy, overworked in a sense

Though I haven’t strayed much

Haven’t felt a woman’s touch

For so long

 

I’ve become accustomed to this routine

A cryptic cry of phantasmic dreams

When the tremors wake me from my rest

Then I know, I have passed the final test

Sitting on the edge of my bed

Hands clasped over both sides of my head

I hear a song

 

There is a tone of difference on the breeze

An opportunity that God himself has seized

Setting off vibrations in the heavens

As the cuckoo clock above strikes eleven

The hour is late, I know

Banished as I am, to linger here, below

I soldier on

 

If, by being present in this play

My role is justified by what I pause to say

Then the author has shown a kinder tilt

Respecting how this old bag of bones was built

A tackled tickle of the mechanical wheel

A jumped tooth for the gears to appeal

I hear the gong

 

I might have done my best if there was time

I had that goal, firmly in mind

But with the sunset coming in haste

I realized that protesting was a waste

Better to bow before the oddsmaker’s curse

I can do no better or worse

I’ll get along

 

I read it once, at school, long ago

That the scourge of sin is a short-distance stone’s throw

And I believed what the text had proclaimed

But in the end, it’s all the same

Starting gates swing and slip

But the race, is decided by a coin flip

From the grasp of King Kong

 

My cage is unlocked, easy to nab

A longbox hovel, sat upon a concrete slab

Out in a distant spot, away from the crowd

A safe space for thinking out loud

A taste of alcohol is my friend

A cool companion, on which I may depend

Without a magic wand

 

Time and distance, mean no more

The calculations only cause me to be bored

I have become one with the dirt and stone

Living in this junkyard oasis, alone

I don’t take it as a judgment, passed

More like a back-row seat, in a college class

A quiet push for a pawn

 

Helter Skelter, here comes the glow

Of another cycle with wisdom to bestow

Learning to live within my means

A meal of fate cooked up, like rice and beans

Eyes narrowed, peering at the sun

My education has only begun

And the day is gone