Friday 12/18/1998 g.g.Ashbrook
Georgetown Ohio, 7:30 Saturday morning, the constable gets out of his seat, and moves slovenly over to the window. There is a cat purring balanced on his shoulder. He watches the street outside and sees a bunch of police pulling off their uniforms and stuffing them in a trash can and getting in an old boat of a car and driving off. He rubs his balding head and looks across the room into a broken mirror. A sixty year old secretary wearing a red dress and too much make up opens the door and says, "Harris, your doctor’s on line two." And she coughs and shuts the door. The Constable picks up the phone and hits the beeping button by the 2 with a pencil eraser. "Mr. Harris?"
"Yes."
"I’m here with your wife. I’m afraid her kidneys have given out. We have her on full dialysis but it seems her brain has already suffered some damage. How many years was she on the stuff, eh Harry? Lucky bitch. You probably brought it home to her from the evidence room, didn’t you? Or didn’t you know? Did you ever see her sock drawer partitioned for needles and alcohol and cotton and spoons soaking in Effer-Dent to keep the carbon from staining the metal, I have to admit it was the first time I saw that one. She was at least forty pounds underweight, and her hair was falling out; didn’t look like she’d combed it in years, and-"
"Doctor?"
"Yes?"
"I don’t have a wife."
"Aren’t you Professor Harris Calderfuffer at Pitsfoe Collage?"
"No, I’m the Constable of police in Kresdale across the river from Center City Pattermats."
"Oh, look... (half covering the phone) Grace, you used the wrong line again, I probably ruined this guy’s day, your just sitting there doing lines of crystal on the patients charts, never mind, forget I even attempted to criticize you, Look Officer Harris, I’m really sorry about this. She’s new, ("I am not New," in the background over the phone) Do you wear Aqua-velva?"
Harris was holding the phone which now had a dial tone. He dropped it in the trash and went around to his desk, listening to the spurs on his boots hit the floor. Across the river hovercrafts and helicopters were taking off and landing with the new commuters, on his side of the river, below the window, Pat Fresto was leading his horse over a dusty road pulling a wagon of half-rotten watermelons. One kids runs out into the Constable’s view and falls forward abruptly breaking his glasses as his face smashes into the ground. Then he was pulled by a lasso around this ankles back out of view, with the laughs of children in the background.
He sat back down in the chair and reached under his desk pulling out a sawed-off shotgun. It was polished and he ran his finger down the barrel, it wasn’t even dry or dusty. He put the muzzle up under his chin, and pulled both hammers back. He began to hum a song he used to sing in school when the door opened and two men in bright orange jump suits came right into his office without knocking, carrying a large crate which they put right down at the foot of his desk. The two men then stood straight at attention at either side of the desk when a third man in a bright orange jumpsuit came in with a baboon on a leash. He smiled showing a few platinum capped teeth and held out a clip board. "We’re sorry to bother you Harris, but I’ll need your signature right there, no… there, under the picture of the elephant." Harris looked around at them, and put the gun down on the desk. He reached up his hand and scribbled in a signature. The man with the clipboard took a look at the writing, blew smoke out his mouth and nose, and waved and walked out the door, the baboon walked behind him, moving his head from side to side, and drumming a rhythm on his own behind. The other two men followed him out. Grey was definitely a man who preferred using paper straws.
Harris looked at the crate. It was pine and there was straw coming out between the boards, and the whole thing was held together with a profound number of staples. It had stickers and stamps on it from all over the world. He pushed a button on the top and the lid burst open on hinges. Inside was a suit and an instruction pad on the side. The suit was completely transparent, tie and all. And with the key pad the suit could be changed to any appearance and texture and pattern. He began to read the instructions: "British men slide on back side alligator suits, removing their shoes with long tongs, announcing the meals on loud gongs, opening letters from people in the next room over." Calls on the cell phone come in once he has the suit on. "Harris Delkerk? This is Harris Laudanum." "John Franks, you are now John Franks. Open a base ball card store, pretend you don’t know anything about baseball." The pitcher winds up on the mound after walking their from home plate, and? Who are you to describe motion?