Walter Miller's Homepage

It may stink, but Its still free

Part II of the Speciel Double December 1998 Update

Page 5 of 6


It ended up that I paid over $100 for this whole wasted day between my clothes and most of a tank of gas to drive there. OK I admit also I paid $19.98 for somthing else on the way home.

I do somthing bad

I noticed the freeway exit of the town where I know the Womin I Love will probly be spending Thanskgiving because her aunt lives there. She is 14 years older than me which really isnt that much. She used to be my counselor but she had to stop counsling me because I fell in love with her. It was a painful situattion.

I am stupid and inpulsive. It is hard to talk abuot at all, nonetheless explain my stupidity. It is just that i miss her so much.

I wanted to buy her fresh roses or somthin but the creepy guy at the florist talked me into one of those Autumn harvest Thanskiving bouqeuts where there is a tacky cerammic turkey and dried flowers and phesent feathors and decorrative curly corn husks and straw stickin out of a big hole in the back of the turkey's ass.

But like a jerk as soon as I got there I dropped the thing and broke the turkey as I was gettin out of the car. And so the next thing i knew I was at the front door of the house and her father was lettin me in and I am standin there holding this disgousting bouqeut that looks like some sort of mass of matted brown twigs and dead dryed out birds that you pull out of the furnace flue in springtime at the end of a long stick.

The woman i love was with her sister and aunt and mother at the mall. The only ones home were her father who for some odd reasen is always nice to me, and her other sister who was sittin there in the livingroom on the barcalounger watchin QVC on TV with a glass of gin and a cigarate. She is an older sister, mabye close to 40. He left me alone with her.

She looked over to me, sprawled in a lazy position, with one leg hung ovor the arm of the chair, wagging it and then arched her back unconfortably to scrach behind her brastrap. She said to me sort of luaghing and extremly drunk, "I think you and my sister deserve each other."

Then i was startled by a loud beep from the micrawave in the kitchen and a minite later the father came in with a tray of turkey crisps. Then he gave me some turkey crisps on a papper plate. He flopped in the othor barcalonger and turned the TV from QVC to the game.

"Oh boy: College football!" he said.

In case you dont know what turkey crisps are they are fried peices of the dangly parts underneath a turkey that sepparate a Tom turkey from a Thomasina. They are avialable in Texas and othor areas in certain restauronts and stores and are especialy popular on Thanksgiving. Yes it is disgousting but this is America.

The drunken sister of the Woman i love stretched and arched her back again and this time I saw her belly which was very white and she dug her bare heel into the side of the chair.

"Whose winning, Daddy?" she said.

This is very sad but at this momment i sort of felt that the Womon i Love with all my Heart, (who I didnt even get to see that day) woud never return my love. To be polite I treid to pretend to eat one or two turkey crisps and then i thanked them. I left without her even showing up and that was kindof frustratting.

When i got home it was dark.

Uncle Wiliam was sittin on the front porch of the trailer under the awning in Granfather's wheelchair, which lately Granfather hasnt been using allot lately becuase his legs are stronger.

The closest thing to a smile was on his ashen close-to-death face and this was so out of place for Uncle Will that i asked him if he was OK. He said, in a very weak voice, "Yep, boy and i am thankfull this year."

Inside the house Love My Baby by Stevey Ray Vaughn was playing very loud on the casette player. I logged onto my PC to check my email and then the tape clicked off.

I senced somthing strange. Usualy whenevor you are in an enclosed space with Granfather, whethor or not he is awake or alseep there is allways a running comentery of burps, grunts sniffs farting and cloggy throat noises. But oddley this was qiuet. Too quiet.

Somthing was wrong

Yes very wrong. I just knew it. I glanced ovor my shouldor to see Uncle Will wheel past. He was moving slowly and silently down the hall like a ghost, his wispey bloodless hands carefulley pushing the wheelgrips, so quiet if i hadnt looked i woudnt of even seen him. I still coudnt tell if his expresion was a smile or a pained wince. I returned to lookin at my conputer screen.

A minute later the monitor began to slowly silently jiggle. Then it stopped. Beffore i knew it a half hour went by. Then my monitor started to jiggol agian. Somthing in the trailer was moving...

I rose up and headed to Granfather's room. The old basterd asked me nevor to barge in so i pressed my ear to the door. More silence. Howevor i felt the door and floor shake.

I kicked it in. The door swung open.

And there in Granfather's room i saw the horroble, awful site. My eyes imediatly shot down, where they were drawn by a glint of steel, the steel wheel which was atacched to the basterd's forhead. The wheel was on the floor. It was rocking a half inch forword, a halfinch back, and then foward again. To the left was Uncle Will, still seated in the wheelchair with his cane in his hand and what looked like a dirtey sock wrapped arround the end, and the end of the cane he was forcing into Granfather's moulth.

Granfather's lemony-piss colored yellow reptilian eyes flashed with horror, with the red, snakelike diamond shaped pupils in the center of them contracting in fear and as Granfather struggoled in silent agony, this is what was causing the little steel wheel to rock back and fourth.

Warning: This is disgousting

Uncle Zeke was in the room too. There was an electricol cord wrapped around one of Granfather's ankols. The cord was atached to a wire that hung from the ceiling which also had hooked to the same wire somthing called a Gulf-No-Pest-Strip which acording to my dad had hung in that same place in the centor of the room since at least 1974. Even after we did the repairs from the fire, we never took it down.

While the part of Granfather touching the floor, (down by the wheel on his forhead) moved just a little bit, the rest of the old sub human basterd jerked savagely.

The Gulf-No-Pest-Strip violentley thrashed as Granfather bucked and wriggoled. His nakad hairy rib cage heaved as he soundlessly gasped for air. If you get the Nationol Geographic you will see in the Decembor 1998 issue (I forget which page) there is a somwhat agitatted Red Colubus monkey leaping in the air, and this is a close reppresentation to what my beastly ancestor looked like at that moment, exept he was upside down.

Granfather's other leg was wegded shut into the bedroom window. Uncle Zeke stood above and behind him with beads of swett on his forehead and his face firm and grim and austere and withuot expression, and with both hands he was forcing somthing into Granfather. A long black plastic thing. Right into granfather. Yes into Granfather's ass: Straight up (or rather down, becuase remembor, he was upsidedown); down Granp's ass.

Zeke's elbows leaned onto somthing that looked like a large barrel which was atached to the long plastic thing and he braced his giant clown feet agianst the closet door to steadey himself as the upsidedown basterd below bucked and kicked and fought. My head swooned and i saw it all in slow motion.

"Dammitt to hell," I said to them as soon as i regained composure, "I leave you three old Basterds alone for a few hours, and when I come back it is Lord of the Flies."

(Actualy, what I was realy thinking was not the Lord of the Fleis at all, but Pulp Fiction.)

Uncle Zeke spoke first

"I know whut yer thinkin, boy. I aint no purvurt.

"Yer danm Gard-awrful Granpap done had this here poker up his pooper when we walked in.

"He done did it hisself, I tells you. Tell 'em, Willy."

Uncle William gasped so i coud hardley hear, "He done did it hisself. Shameful devil."

I looked down and saw that sudenly Granfather shuddored, his eyes rolled back, and then they closed. Finaly the basterd fell limp. My heart was pounding. What did they do to him?

I dropped to the floor. I opened his wrinkley outer eyelids, and then gentley with my thumbs moved aside his big white lizerdlike third eyelid.

"Granfather," I shoutad, "Wake up!"

Yes he is a pain in the ass and i may hate his friggin guts but he still is my granfather. I started cryin and then I called 911. But as you coud imagine, there was no responce, exept that danm familior recording:

We're sorry. The number from which you are calling has been identified as abusing the Emergencey Services you are trying to reach. If this is a medical emergencey, please call a private doctor or ambulance service..."

They activatted this danm number a few months ago. They say that a number of famillies got it, but i happan to know for a fact that they made the recording especialy for Granfather only. My famly is thinkin of suing the county becuase I think for them to have a recording like this to single out one persen is probly agianst the law.

In any case i figurred that if Granfather was to live, I woud have to save him. I pushed my uncles out of the way and treid to pick him up but I COUD NOT.

Granfather is a scrawney old basterd who normaly weighed only 120 pounds or so but why was he so heavey?

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" I screammed. Uncle Zeke just staired back at me. Atcualy he staired off beyond me becuase his two eyes sort of point in oposite dirrections.

"Dont you raise yer voice to me, boy," he gruffed.

It gets worse.