Thursday, October 7, 2010

Televised Executions

“Televised executions is what we need,” #52’s passenger said, as he gulped a breath of air and continued, “because if these goddamned bastards start seeing what will happen to them, maybe they’ll think twice before burning a flag.  I served 3 tours in Viet Nam and survived a suicide bomber in Lebanon, for that motherfucking rag, and the hell if I’m going to watch some peace creep motherfucker burn a flag, because it’s a free country.”

            Trevor found it interesting the way that these primitive’s saw logic in violence.  So he decided to do the only humane thing that he could, and performed teleo on his passenger.

            “We need to understand that we are all part of the whole,” #52’s passenger said.  “What the least does, effects the greatest and vice versa, so we need to learn to live together as neighbors.  All humans are my brothers and sisters, and soon there will no longer be gender distinctions, as we are all joined as one.  Six Billion cells that make up the whole and take its place as an Archeon of the universe.”

            When #52 arrived at his fare’s destination he left an imprint on his psyche, so that he would be connected to the greater whole and made known to the other eleven.  His next call was for one of the state offices downtown, where he asked at the front desk about finding his fare.  The woman behind the desk told Trevor that his passenger was in the adjacent waiting room, but indicated with her eyes that he should be concerned.

            When he entered the adjoining area, #52 found an emaciated woman who had sores covering her face and hands, who looked to be in her early 30’s.  She was wearing a pair of pink pajamas with small embroidered flowers covering them.  As she rose from her seat, she began to pick up an assortment of bags surrounding the area.  Trevor went outside and opened the passenger door of the cab for the woman to get in.  When she had her back to him #52 saw that she had brown stains on the seat of her pants, but ignored it and asked what her destination was.

            “It’s a motel by Market Street called Travelodge,” she said.

            “There are two motels with that name, and neither is by Market street, and I must know where we are going, before I can start driving there,” he told her.

            “I’ve got a receipt from it somewhere,” she said, and began to look through the bags that she was carrying.  As she sorted through empty paper cups, wadded up wrappers and a variety of other trash items, she unfolded receipts, until after about 10 minutes she finally found the one she was looking for.  “It’s the Super 8,” she said.

            After #52 called it in he began driving, and wondering why she was carrying around bags of trash, but then remembered that these unevolved bipeds acted as much out of irrational impulses as it did out of intelligent logic.  As they drove, Trevor tried to converse with his passenger, but she was too involved with sorting through her bags of trash to concentrate enough to communicate.  So he went inside of her mind and saw that some of her dendrites were causing synapse misfires, after being poisoned with the substance called methamphetamine.  She had absolutely no teleo potential.  When they arrived at the motel his passenger paid the $10.30 fare with a $20.00 bill, so he just called it $10.00 even and gave her a Hamilton back.  Then #52 got out of the cab and opened up the door for his passenger, as she got out, and took another couple of minutes to gather her bags of trash from the front seat.

            Number 52 was heading back downtown, when he spotted a Universal taxi parked in the Arco station on Lansing, so he pulled in next to it.  The driver was just sitting there, when Trevor rolled down his window and asked him if he was having a good day?  Driver #69 turned towards driver #52 and teleo converged with bereshith, as the time space continuum vortex was momentarily disrupted as an energy surge crossed dimensions, as #69 underwent teleo, and went back from which he came.

            “Driver #52, go get the Hut shuttle,” Dotty called.

            “I confirm,” #52 answered, as he headed to the Red Lion, where the shuttle dropped off at.  When he arrived the bus had not arrived yet, so he sat there in the waiting area, with his flashers on, until it did.  His passenger was a woman who was heading to South Salem, with one large suitcase.  On the drive there the woman began to talk about how when she first moved to Salem, it was from San Francisco with her parents, back in the early 1970’s.

            “Things have changed quite a bit since then,” she said.  “Back then if they knew you were from California, they would insult you and tell you to go back where you came from.  Oregon was the most closed state in the union and they hated outsiders.  Black people were not allowed to be in Oregon after dark, under pain of death, until the civil rights act of the 1960’s.  After the bottom fell out of all their homegrown industries, like logging and fishing, after all the environmental laws were passed in the 1970’s.  Then the economy fell into a recession under the Carter administration, along with the Arab oil embargo and soaring prices along from inflation.  So now the state has doubled in population with all these displaced Californians.  But at least we have a secret weapon to make it harder for people to like it in the rain forest, because of all the rain.  The constant drizzle and overcast skies for 9 months drives some people crazy, but I learned to love it more than the sunshine.”

            Trevor found her interesting, and searched her mind until he found what he was looking for.  As they pulled into the driveway the meter read $14.90 and she gave him a $20.00 and told him to keep the change.  After #52 unloaded her suitcase and carried it up to her porch they made eye contact, and she understood.

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