~FALLING IN LOVE~

On sunny midsummer day mornings, on the east coast of Prudence Island in Narragansett Bay, R.I., the water starts out very still--sometimes like a mirror. There is little if any boating activity. You might hear the drone of an outboard motor and even see it in the distance. But the bay is very very still. As the sun rises it gets warmer. By 11 AM the beaches have attracted bathers in clusters of neighbors and kids who know each other. It was lovely. Lunchtime came quickly and some ate packed lunches on the beach, while others disappeared for a while, to return shortly for swimming. The rule was no swimming for a half-hour after lunch, so swimming resumed in a short half-hour. The bay was still very quiet. As 1 PM approached, the Sun passed mid-sky and having heated up the land mass, a soft, warm onshore breeze began from the Southeast, and shimmers started on the still water. They were welcome because the beach was getting a bit hot.
For those who choose not to swim, there were other enjoyable activities, like sitting in wicker chairs or lying on couches in the shady front rooms of chicken shacks, or some more elaborate houses, reading comic books or listening to the radio, with the soft cool breeze wafting in. It was really heavenly.
One day I went to my friend Jack's house and we sat in wicker chairs, barebacked with feet propped up on a railing, observing the goings on. It was idyllic--the bright Sun, now past mid-sky, the soft breeze, a perfect vantage point to everyone at the beach, the popular ferry dock, and people drifting to and fro. The entire bay was a wondrous panorama with a perfect view of the Mount Hope Bridge, Portsmouth R.I. and Bristol, R.I. across the bay. And many sailboats all over the bay.
Jack and I were good friends, about 15, and just sat there observing. I had an added effect of being near a girl I had a crush on. She lived in a house a little to the right of Jack's, just a bit closer to the shore road. I knew she was home, still. I felt ecstatic. Everything was perfect in my young life.
Jack got up and went into the house and swiped two of his mother's short Chesterfields. I'd fooled around with my grandfather's pipe, and with my parent's butts, but never inhaled. Smoking was not an unusual activity for me but it was always just to take a drag and puff it out. No big deal.
I took my Chesterfield and took a big puff and inhaled it. For almost a minute the whole world changed--I was in a state of euphoria, by myself. The feeling was dramatic! What was wonderful to begin with became heaven. Everything was intensified and perfectly glorious. I was never addicted to anything. Not food or any substance or activity. But that minute established an addiction in my young brain, and the memory would never go away. This little vignette is quite inaptly titled--'falling in love' is a hell of a euphemism for developing an addiction. For years and years after that I pursued that feeling. Never came close. And I tried every possible way. I don't know if I was addictive to begin with or if the circumstances that day produced an addictive nature. After that, cigarette-smoking was slowly but firmly established, over a year or so. Then beer and booze came along (Well, hello!), and that was actually encouraged at the college I went to. Then I got a doctorate in drinking in the Navy. Graduate School was next and along with it, the plethora of drugs from the '60's and early '70's. Over the years I fought like hell to eradicate everything. Success, failure, success, failure, success, failure, success, failure Today, after all the years, I seem to have conquered, or at least arrested, all of it. But even with severe lung problems, I just lit a cigarette...

XWAN XONG I, II, III

XWAN XONG PART I


My printer went haywire and won’t print the 19th letter. I wanted to relate a tale about the debacle day I had on January 30, 2006. Well it would have been a big bore anyhow, like everything I've ever written. I can't get mail either--but that too would have been a lot of minutiae, like everything I ever received. Have the open oven going at 500--quite cold in the crypt I live (Ha!) in.
I wanted to go down to the Carter pharmacy but it looked dark. I went the other way and found the Central Pharmacy open. I went in and they told me to get the hell out (I'd cheated on my medication there and they knew all about me.) Back to the crypt, I crawled up to my apartment only to find Nancy the junkie at my door. Oh, good God, exactly what I did not need. But I really had no choice--Nancy owed me a lot of money that I needed badly, and a payment from her would've made the day. But, no honey, 'I only want to boot my junk in a good place.' Mercy! What a bitch--faded, jaded, painted, tainted junkie old whore. How do I run into her type? By hanging around with them, I have to think. Anyway the beat up old pig did her thing for about an hour, then bolted on her feeble way to another haunt to do it xome more. I bid her her awful luck and it happened--dead on arrival at a nearby clinic. A tear came to my eye but not for long--Nancy had been a pain in my gut for a long long time. Good bye, Nancy, old uhmm...friend.
There! I've done it--written a whole paragraph without the 19th letter. I decided to try 'x' in it'x xtead. The only trouble ix that xuppoxe I wanted to uxe the letter 'x?' Well I'll ximply uxe 'q.' Thix could get cofuxing if I need to uxe the letter 'q.' But 'q' ixn't very frequent xo I'll xettle for 'x' for the 19th letter and worry about 'q' if it comex up.
Now to get on with the bullxhit xhort xtory. I wax going to another drug xtore--they were cloxer bit very pixxed off at me alxo. I abuxed their policiex many timex too. That'x about when I ran into Xuxan, a truly mexxed up little xlut. Xhe wax about the xtupidext little xeq fiend I ever met. And very much of a pain in the axx ax Nancy. Xuxan wax very xtrange--alwayx with a thouxand-yard xtare in her bloodxhot eyex, ax if xhe wax in xome other world lightyearx away. I never underxtood the xlighext thing about the miqed up inxane twixted little jackaxx. Nobody did. That wax juxt ax well--knowing thingx about her would mexx up anybody'x pxyche. Well xhe juxt hax to xtop and xtart fuxxing and very confuxedly babbling on and on about xome incomprehenxible vagueriex--on and on and on. I'd xeen too much of the wanton little xlut about five minutex after I had the mixfortune of xitting neqt to her on a bux. After that xhe kept xhowing up at my place alwayx looking for drugx and xeq, xhe xaid--but both thoxe thingx xeemed to be a ruxe--xhe alwayx drifted away from thoxe perxuitx into xome really weird xtuff--no xenxe at all. Juxt off-the-wall crazy nonxenxe. Maybe xhe made xenxe to herxelf--but to no one elxe. Xhe reminded me of that Wyeth painting of that girl in the field forlornly looking up at the houxe on the hill. Confuxed and bewildered, Xhe xtarted coming to my houxe, knowing where I lived from the bux xtop. That wax a caxe of bad luck. When xhe came xhe xat and xtared like xome kind of xchitxophrenic or xomething, hardly xaid a word and if xo, complete xenxelexxnexx, like a foreign language. Alxo there wax a weird accent-xounding tone to what xhe babbled. I never tried to underxtand her and juxt put up with her prexenxe until xhe left for who knowx where. Yex, Xuxan wax a truly botherxome guext and I alwayx hated xeeing her come.
One day I heard a xtory about her--raixed in xome home for bad caxex and xomehow xet free to get rid of her. Xo I end up with thix crazy thing on my handx--and I waxn't alone. Xeveral other perxonx were alxo her victimx. Funny thing ix ix that xhe wrote 'poemx' in a notebook. I took a look one day and her writing wax ax bad ax her xpeech--looked Arabic or xomething--not a word of xenxe anywhere.
A couple weekx later I heard xhe wax xeen xitting on a riverbank, juxt xitting, writing her nonxenxe, never eating or moving, juxt xtaring and xitting. Then xhe dixappeared. But I know in my heart xhe'll reappear, probably in even worxe xhape than ever.
One night pretty early I got off the bux and went to my door. I wax high ax a kite, on abxynthe. The door wax locked. I xtood in bewilderment then realized by the number on the door that I needed the key. I fumbled around and found the laxt key worked. I went in and got on the excalator. I thought it wax very xlow--but I waited realzing abxynthe really changex perception. About 45 minutex went by and it occurred to me I wax on xtairx. Xo I very carefully got on my kneex and crawled to my place. I reached up to open the door when it opened wide itxelf. What? There were two really beautiful women there, all drexxed to kill. Turnx out one wax Nancy, who xaid xhe had a makeover. Turnx out xhe'x 24, and really beautiful. The other wax Xuxan who xaid xhe got into xpeed and had a makeover too. Xhe xtarted a machine-gun rap about Xocratex and it wax like a Pxyche 502 rap, perfect xenxe. Nancy xtarted making a lot of xenxe too. Both xuggexted we all go to bed, and I xoon found myxelf nearly delerioux with the abxynthe buxx being mauled by two really beautiful women. Xuxan xaid "Nancy, we can't poxxibly turn thix guy on in hix xtate." Well they were pretty wrong--about 5 hourx later we were all over each other. I wax xlaked but they wanted to continue. I demanded we all get abxynthe-high and xee what happenx. Well another 4 or 5 hourx go by and finally we're all xlaked. A couple dayx later a tired Xuxan went out to get food and xome other xtuff after the two week tryxt. Another week paxxed and we were ready again. After that I told them to both pack up and get the fuck out. Well they huffed and hixxed and xnorted and coughed up hairballx and out the door. Whew!
Almoxt immediately the door goex BAM BAMBAM. I xay "Come in." A really beat to xhit old hag Marixa Berenxon xtandx there with a cane. I tell her to come in for a few minutex. Xhe xitx and wheezex. I axk her what the hell happened. "Well, I juxt got old.” Xhe wax one of Warhol'x 'millionettex.' "You muxt be a billionette by now Marixa....” Xhe xayx "No “I'm a 'thouxandette.” That fucking Warhol xtole all my money--I xhould xay I xpent it on all hix coke and xeconol. He waxn't known for giving anyone a break." "And what about Valerie Xolanax?" "Oh, xhe'x about 92 and xtill trying to xhoot people who won't accept her xtupid xcriptx. But xhe mixxex all the time--bad eyexight--xhe tried to xhoot herxelf once but mixxed.”. Well I tell her time to go Marixa--”out the door baby.” Xhe huffx and wax gone in a flaxh. Good!
Xuddenly I get a really good idea: Why not get the hell out of here with a few xcant thingx? Good idea. I decide to dump all my pigeon food all over the place, leave the inxide door open and their door open, and xcrew. I do!
At JFK I got $3500. total caxh. I xay "Xouth." "Xhe xayx "Where Xouth." Ia xay "Juxt Xouth." I end up in Tampa--a lot of cheap motelx there and I find a real dump in a couple hourx. WOW! Alone at laxt. I iie there for about 30 hourx juxt watching wavex in my eyeballx--the abxynthe and booze. Finally I feel xober. Now the dump ix $40. a night xo there'x no hurry.
Xo I lie there and hear a BAM BAM BAM, My God who could it be? Did one of thoxe trampx find me? I xay "Who ix it.? Voice xayx "The Manager--you owe rent." I paid for two dayx and come to find out it'x been two weekx--that long! Xo I xlip 12x40 = $480 under the door and he goex away. Now I have $2800 left---pxhit! I decide to make xome money dealing drugx--I have quite a xtaxh of varioux thingx. Maybe $75K worth.

XWAN XONG PART II

Tampa wax a little different than I expected. It waxn't really Xouth Florida anyway and there were an awful lot of older people. Oh, there were the uxual night cluxterx, and alxo a lot of copx. I talked to a few people I figured were cool and they xuggexted that Naplex wax the place to go. I did not xay how much I wax talking. Naplex ix about a hundred milex Xouth of Tampa and Wext of Miami by about ninety milex-- I did not want to go to Miami-- talk about 'heat.' Xo I end up in Naplex the neqt day, hot ax hell. I looked pretty bummy, which wax good--I needed to talk to xome bummy people. Had a xtaxhbag and a xiutcaxe with good clothex and regular xtuff. Ax light ax I could go.
I hailed a cab and finally got it acroxx to the Cuban driver that I wanted a 'cheap' motel. That wax the keyword he underxtood. He paxxed a couple motelx and told me the pricex. $45--too much, I xaid. Finally he xaid thix wax the cheapext, $30. a night. I took it. Very xhabby, but OK. The deal wax three dayx in advance. OK. I entered a room like I've never xeen before. No piece of furniture matched any other and all were well worn. There wax the ever-prexent TV. Motelx have TV'x for a reaxon--it keepx people in their roomx; otherwixe they'd be wandering all over bothering everybody. I don't think I wax ever in a motel room without one. I xettled in and took a nap on a crummy xagging bed. That evening I woke up at about 9 PM and decided to take a look around in half-decent clothex. Thingx were pretty quiet. But not for long. A cop xhowed up at a room down the row and extracted a belligerent tenant. I went on my way and never knew what that wax all about.
I xaw a group around a car in a parking lot. One guy left on hix way xomewhere. I xaid to him "Hey, will he xell me anything?" The guy xaid probably not but added he would get it (coke) for me. Xo I bought a gram for $40. and offered to xplit it with him. He liked that and happily did xo in hix beat up car in another xpot in the parking lot. There, I had a friend who knew I wax not a cop or undercover. He axked my name and I told him. He xaid hix name wax Joe-Bob. We xnorted the coke for an hour or xo and he xaid he had to go. I xaid I did too.
The neqt night I planned to xee him again. I did and we xwapped xtoriex about NYC and Xouth Florida. I wax 'chumming the waterx.' He xeemed like a pretty hip local, had never been to NYC, and xome of my xtoriex xeemed to interext him. "Man, that'x nothin' like around here."
Xo I continue to xee thix guy, hoping to find a big buyer. One night late I xaw a nice car pull up to the dealer. A man got out and leaned on hix car talking. I xaw no exchange but there could've been one, out of my xight. I didn't axk anything. In any event there wax talking. I xtarted to drexx a little bit better--juxt a trifle. One of thoxe nightx I made mention of "The Man," i.e., the xupplier. Joe-Bob juxt paxxed it of with a "Oh, man, I dunno." Then I xteered the topic elxewhere qiuckly.
A couple nightx after that about the xame xenario came up. But thix time the guy in the nice car pulled around and up neqt to Joe-Bob'x window. He wax facing the other way and xlipped out and leaned into Joe-Bob, zaying "Hey Joey." Joe-Bob xaid "Xay, man." The driver had a girl with him, eqzuixitely ['z' for 'q'.] drexxed. I could barely keep from gaking ['k' for 'z'] at her. I think I wax drexxed raggy enough to be accepted, but the guy xaid "Who'x yo buddy?" Joe-Bob xaid "Oh, far away wanderer from the big city--don't know nothin' 'bout the Xouth." The guy reached hix hand over and xaid "I'm Jonnio." I xhook hix hand and juxt xaid "Nice t' meetcha Jonnio." He didn't wait for or expect my name and went on with hix rap with Joe-Bob.


XWAN XONG PART III

I decided that I wouldn't xhow up every night, but I would frequent the little area. I met a few firxt namex and I went by "VAYFEE." ['v' for 'k'] It xeemed that Joe-Bob wax getting to vinda live me. I alwayx had caxh, eqcept xome nightx I xhowed up brove, or nearly xo. But I got turned on by Joe-Bob'x friendx, when I wax brove. If they only vnew. Thingx went on a couple weevx and I though I wax getting cloxe to mave xome vind of bold offer to that 'man' with the car and babe. I had to dump thix xhit, regardlexx of price.
One night I felt bold and did it. That turned out to be fatal! Joe-Bob wax in the car and the 'man' wax leaning in xo I popped the zuextion--and I got the anxwer and 50V on the barrelhead--a zuicv and eaky deal. WOW!
But xuddenly Joe-Bob pulled a 9 mm and a badge and grabbed the caxh. We were xurrounded. "Where'x the product, punv, axked Joe-Bob?" "In that old Ford trunv two carx in front of ux," I xaid. Joe-Bob told the 'man,' a cop, to checv it out.
Here I am in county jail--for maving the worxt mixtave I poxxibly could---truxting the firxt guy I met. I'll do a long bid for this. I wonder how my pigeonx are doing...

Gimmicvry inxpired by Ray Ruxxel.