Existence Womb (93)

   
   "Existence Womb (93)"

   Miriam was sleeping soundly; indeed, every since her Dad, Dr. Luke had removed the implant behind her ear, the Sleep Paralysis had not affected her.  Buck noticed more, she cooed like a pigeon dove during the nocturnal hours, so sweetly and sublime.
   Too, Buck pondered the coyote's mantra:  "All is sacred; nothing is sacred."  Thus, he pondered further, diving deep into the psychological weirdness of her Dad; moreover, all that he had done for his daughter, as well as Buck himself.  The man couldn't help he turned rogue.  The government probably had more than just a simple gun on him; therefore, Buck decided:  RESCUE.
   Should Miriam come with him?  Nope, way dangerous cloak and dagger crap.  Moreover, she would be okay, out here, in the bucolic backwoods of Little Rock, Arkansas, where the worst she would encounter was a cooter with too much whiskey in his system--though alcohol makes people do the dumbest things, way more than your average narcotics.
    Hence, Buck penned a quasi-Dear John letter to Miriam, and went on his way.  His canine telepathy had pinpointed the approximate location of her father, and it would be nice, if he was successful in his rescue attempt, to reforge the trinity of a family resurrected.
   Next, he gently kissed Miriam on the forehead, hoping she wouldn't take the fuchsia-hued Boss 429 on any personal adventures, and then he gallantly departed in the SS 350, heading towards the Florida swamps.

Grandma Bertha: Everybody's poop stinks

   
   "Grandma Bertha:  Everybody's poop stinks"
    
   Big Bertha.  Bert.  The Air Force.  Wide Track.  She went by many names; plus, Bag Lady, as her husband, my Pap used to playfully say.
   I used to drive cross country during the beginning of my 16th year.  A stormy adolescence.  The mental weirdness started however, way before adolescence.  At the spawn of my consciousness I was fully aware of pubic hairs on toilet seats, Sleep Paralysis, and Social Phobia.
   Anyway, they all said I didn't try.  Hell, I did more than try, was on the road before Kerouac dropped out of college.  Been on every part of 40--both West and East.  California to Virginia, by the time I was 18.  Saw plenty of bizarre stuff.  
   So, when I drove the approximate 1,000 miles from Little Rock to Richmond, anchoring down on Grandma Bertha's pseudo-suburbia, she'd hug me like no other, saying:  "Lift your head up Mark; everybody's SHIT stinks."  
   Now I know--she was right.  But people with money cloak their shit.  Or are given a freebie.  Hey, it's a fruitcake America, and no longer a free country.  You can even get arrested for writing poetry with no clear and present danger, no fighting words, even if it's ambiguous.  
   So, when the vivid imagery arrives to me, or hallucinations, or possibly mysticism, and I see Saint Raphael marching boldly, blonde hair blowing in the breeze--yup, hold your head up my man, for everybody's shit stinks.  And mostly, more than yours, unless you're them.     

Existence Womb (92)

   
   "Existence Womb (92)"
   
   Buck and Miriam were going old school.  A VHS machine hooked up to a black and white television with rabbit ears in their pad.  They found and rented Glenn Ford's JUBAL and DAY OF THE EVIL GUN, both silent and engaged in the classic Westerns.  When the tapes had culmination, their conversation began.

MIRIAM
I like how Mr. Ford quoted Christ's Beatitudes in that one movie.  Blessed are the merciful, for they too shall receive mercy.

BUCK
He was always an elegant and cool cowboy.  Not as bloodthirsty as Mr. Eastwood.

MIRIAM
It's a shame that nobody cares anymore.  About Christ, religion, ancient astronaut theory, all the things that offer us the truth.

BUCK
Your truth.  Taking care of an elderly mother with neurological distress--no help, yet not a soul in the world gave you credit.  Lifting, feeding, wiping, brushing, praying, dressing, loving.

MIRIAM
Why is that?

BUCK
The dollar.  The green.  Love of money--it's all that matters.  That and a girl who squirts, a psychosomatic tendency when she feels like a woman.

MIRIAM
What do you mean, squirts?

BUCK
Uh, don't worry about it.  Anyway, yeah, things tap into people's Pineal gland; next, they're affected by monstrous things, wear masks, and it's up to the wise coyote to teach with foolish wisdom.

MIRIAM
You think I'll make it Buck?  I mean, be ordinary like most other people?

BUCK
You mean stupid?  Nah, you'll never make it.

Existence Womb (91)

 
   "Existence Womb (91)"
    
   Miriam didn't saunter like cowboy Glenn Ford, him with his pretty boy, androgynous looks always riding into town; next, a married man's wife falls in love with him and her envious husband tries to gun him down with an angry Colt .45--no, Miriam ran like the four winds blowing in unison, up the garage stairs and into the pad, waking Buck with a stern and firm shake.  Thus, he awoke, and calmly so.
  
MIRIAM
Buck, I just met my animal guide--her name is Freddy, and she is a coyote!  A bit of a goofball, but not a drug runner, deceptive, or dangerous.  You were right about them having many Totem meanings.

BUCK
Yup.

MIRIAM
That's all you're gonna say?  Holy Fire--I just met my animal guide.

BUCK
You've encountered more.

MIRIAM
Sat on the futon next to Buck.  Lost a bit of her passion, getting meek and soft; still, inquisitive as always.  So, who is the Patron Saint of Coyotes?

BUCK
Chief Mojo Rising, of course.

   Miriam stuck her tongue out at him; then, giggled.  

Saint Roch--Patron Saint of dogs

   
   "Saint Roch--Patron Saint of dogs"

   I guess you could call this guy, the ROCK; however, we all know Christ said that was the mighty Saint Peter, the architect of the Universal Church.
   Anyhow, Saint Roch has much to do with lore and legend, yet truth always resides in such fantastic things for souls with eyes to see and ears to hear.
   Saint Roch was called to help treat victims of the Bubonic plague; moreover, he contracted it himself.  And like an American Indian, as my Grandpap would say, he went out into the woods to perish alone.  
   Alas, in a sublime way, he didn't perish, for a holy hound brought him food; plus, licked his wounds, healing them.  A simple man, with a simple friend; specifically, man's best friend.  
   Also, Patron Saint of bachelors and the falsely accused.  Get me!?!    

Existence Womb (90)

   
   "Existence Womb (90)"
   
   Miriam approached the coyote.  It sat and offered a friendly paw, like a trained house dog.  She willingly shook it, and could've sworn the coyote smiled innocently at her.
  
MIRIAM
I uh, kinda noticed you sound like a girl, but you said your name was Freddy.

FREDDY
Us coyotes are weird, but true.  And I am female.

MIRIAM
Are you here to tell me something?  I know you are.  

FREDDY
My friend Miriam--laugh at yourself and all the reptile scat in life.  Us coyotes have symmetrical bowel evacuation. We can live on mice, toxic waste, whatever--we're survivors, with a sense of humor.

MIRIAM
It's kinda hard to laugh.  Evil angels have harassed me, my Mom died, and my father is bananas.

FREDDY
Hundreds of thousands of people go missing each year.  You're not the only tortured soul.  Laugh them off; keep all your negativity in your tail; furthermore, grow a metaphorical tail and make it contain all the toxins in life.

MIRIAM
You are silly, but I trust your teachings.

FREDDY
Don't take life so seriously; you're a survivor.  Keep your faith.  Get some Rosary beads and continue your path to God, the Great Spirit.  You will learn to teach too, in a goofball way.  Show the haters themselves by imitating them--hold up a magic mirror to show them how they disrespect the elders and all that is holy.  You will be amazed at this uncanny power.  And remember Christ saying GET BEHIND ME Satan.  Of course, you never follow a coyote, and if they're behind you--it is their doom.

MIRIAM
Thank you.  Thank you for your wisdom.

FREDDY
My goofball wisdom.  Hey, how did Captain Hook die?

MIRIAM
What?  I don't know.

FREDDY
Jock itch.  And Miriam snorted a blinding giggle; plus, Freddy disappeared.

Existence Womb (89)

   
   "Existence Womb (89)"
   
   Miriam awoke, of course--hearing Buck's wolfman snores; moreover, to the yips and yaps of a wild dog calling.  
   She knew this was not strange, for nothing, after all she had witnessed on Terra's mystical surface, seemed strange or bizarre save the watermelon-busting comedian Gallagher; anyway, she crept with Native American stealth from the pad, wending her way downstairs into the garage; next, out in the hot and sticky Arkansas night, where underneath the shimmering wax of a glowing Moon, she spotted the canine noisemaker--it was a coyote.
   Thing looked a bit like a German Shepherd; however, a bit smaller and leaner, looked underfed, and its eyes glowed something yellow and keen, matching a coat of almost golden-hued fur elegantly mingled with glistening orange.
   "Come here."  The coyote stated boldly.  "But never follow me unless I instruct you to."
   Miriam was like:  "Who the heck are you?"
   "I'm Freddy; I'm your Animal Guide."   
   Miriam approached; specifically, without the spirit of fear within her.