Because SQUIRREL would not likely be hitchhiking in Dale Springs & it would not be likely Q__ P__ would drive by in his van, one chance in one million BUT I COULD NOT WAIT THAT LONG COULD I!—another strategy had to be devised. SQUIRREL would not climb willingly into the van, SQUIRREL would have to be overcome & captured & lifted into it, & his bicycle too?—maybe. & this capture to be made without witnesses of course. By night would be best but to stake out at his house on Cedar Street not knowing when he would return & not knowing if he would be alone would be difficult. For the sand-colored van would be noticed. Dale Springs has security police, neighborhood patrols. & to enter SQUIRREL’s actual house & risk a burglar alarm etc.—fuck that.
I worked at Grandma’s & I cruised my van on Cedar Street & I ate at Humpty Dumpty how many times, not able to stay away, & I brooded over SQUIRREL in his absence & in his presence. Staring at SQUIRREL thinking I love you, I want you, I would die for you, you are so terrific why the fuck won’t you look at me? smile at me? I might have neglected my duties at 118 North Church but it was summer & only five of the rooms occupied & if I did not haul the trash out to the curb one week I would haul it the next, for sure. & cleaning & maintenance got done when required. & regular spray for roach control.
Dad called & left a message & I thought he’d be bitching as usual but instead thanked me for BEING SO KIND TO YOUR GRANDMA, QUEN-TIN!
It was taking a chance eating at Humpty Dumpty so much but I could not stay away. Parked my van sometimes in the lot & sometimes across the street or close by in a grocery store lot or even around the corner to avoid suspicion. But the restaurant lot was always full & the restaurant busy except in the mid-afternoon but I preferred after 5 P.M. when there were lots of customers including families with young children & less likelihood of Q__ P__ being noticed. & if I lingered till 6 P.M. when the busboys changed shifts I could observe SQUIRREL actually leaving, riding home on his bicycle. That route he took, I’d memorized.
Following in my van at a safe distance. Or, circling the block to park & wait for him to pass oblivious. The way SQUIRREL rode his bicycle!—fast, & hunched over, & no wasted moves. Very shrewd & skillful making his way through Lakeview Boulevard traffic. & a shortcut he took through a side street & an alley & the rear of a church parking lot. A Tigers baseball cap backward on his head & his blond-brown longish hair tied in a tiny pigtail at the nape of his neck & how boylike he was but a man too, almost a man, his mouth that could shape into a grin or a sneer, his eyes that could be so warm or so cutting & the way he gripped the handlebars of the bicycle & his muscled calves, thighs & the curve of his spine back how elastic his spine looked—it took my breath away this boy would be my ZOMBIE!
Then in Humpty Dumpty watching SQUIRREL hoist a tray of dirty dishes, etc. to his shoulder. & his young muscles jerking visible, & the little pigtail at the nape of his neck—
& I’m so excited have to leave my Humpty Dumpty Burger Special & stagger back to the men’s room & jack off in one of the toilet stalls moaning & whimpering. A true ZOMBIE would be mine forever. Would kneel before me saying I LOVE YOU MASTER, THERE IS NO ONE BUT YOU MASTER. FUCK ME IN THE ASS MASTER UNTIL I BLEED BLUE GUTS. & I wipe the sticky cum in wads of tissue & return to the booth where I will leave it hidden inside my napkin for SQUIRREL to clear away unknowing.
MY ZOMBIE!
I was not too hungry (having eaten at Grandma’s) yet devoured two Tex-Mex Specials, burgers with melted cheese, onions & hot salsa sauce & double order of Humpty Dumpty Special Ranch Fries greasy & coated with salt. Two giant Cokes & cups of black coffee for a caffeine buzz. & the uppers I’d taken that morning. Dazed & shaky from jerking off so hard & my vision fading in & out of focus & the gum-chewing waitress asked me something—Mister? I didn’t seem to hear & shrugged & sauntered away. But where was SQUIRREL? I did not see SQUIRREL! A roaring in my ears & rock music piped in overhead & kids’ voices & laughter echoing like inside my own skull. Then SQUIRREL appeared & was helping another busboy clean up a booth where it looked like pigs had been feeding, wiping with sponges & tossing napkins, Styrofoam cups etc. into a plastic basket. The other busboy was SQUIRREL’s age & the two of them buddies, grinning together. (If they should look over at Q__ P__ watching them, how would they react?) SQUIRREL is smart & sexy & knows it for sure. A better muscle-build than his friend, too. His skin is slightly blemished on his jaws & he has a habit of grimacing & rolling his eyes, that mocking look you see in kids that age. Some friends of his come into the restaurant & there’s wisecrack bantering & insults traded. Why didn’t Q__ P__ have friends like that, guys who liked me, guys like brothers? twins? & now when they see me their eyes flick carelessly over me. Little cocksuckers don’t see me at all.
My hand was shaky!—dropped my fork & it clattered to the floor as SQUIRREL was passing near. Quick & polite SQUIRREL got me a clean fork, I didn’t even have to ask. Here y’are mister! with a smile. & I said O.K. thanks! & though I lifted my eyes to his there was no eye contact, SQUIRREL was already moving on. A clear glimpse of his greenish-cool eyes, though. Like no other eyes I have ever seen. MY ZOMBIE.
Hadn’t noticed me at all, I guess. & that was good. They don’t see people my age, that’s good. Sure I was hurt, I was pissed & the little fucker will pay for it one day soon but it was good. Q__ P__ the invisible man.
What I was wearing: khaki shorts & a soiled tanktop (loose-fitting to hide my little pot-belly), & my aviator sunglasses, & battered sandals. Working at Grandma’s I’d worn a red sweatband around my head like a funky black dude, I’d sweated it through in the heat. A strong smell lifted off me I guess, hadn’t taken time to shower as Grandma had invited.
My baffle that day was a birthmark on my left cheek. Inscribed with blueberry juice & red Magic Marker. Sort of star-shaped, about the size of a dime. To draw & focus unwanted attention.
BIRTHMARK (ACTUAL SIZE)
The waitress brought me my check, it came to $16.95 & I left a $5 tip. “Make sure the busboy gets some of this,” I told the waitress.
“Excuse me?”
“The busboy. That kid there, with the pigtail. I’m leaving a $5 tip & I want him to get his share.”
The waitress slowed her gum-chewing & stared at me & blinked & colored a little like, for sure, she’d been caught stealing. Cunt had been planning to pocket the $5 herself. Saying, “We all share our tips here, mister. That’s policy.”
“O.K. I’m just inquiring.”
“That’s Humpty Dumpty policy, mister. We all share.”
“O.K.,” I said, sliding out of the booth, on my unsteady legs & the sunglasses sliding down my nose, “—that’s cool. That’s just fine.”