Taking The 'Caddy To Mountain Time!

(Part.2)

    With the brim of his sweat stained hat, tilted low touching the rim of his Aviators, ”Can you drive hombre?" Bill looked over at Mr Young, "Me? are you talking to me?" Mr Young burst out laughing, "I've seen that fucking movie, jeez wait a minute I'm going to get this, what's that guy’s name? He screwed his face up, deep in thought, "DeNiro!" He cried out, "Robert De fucking Niro, Taxi Driver, now that was a great movie", Bill started to smile at him, " ok,agreed, a great movie, what was the question again", bringing the Caddy to a slow stop, Mr Young turned to Bill, "I said, can you drive?, do you want to have a go?"
    Soon Bill was gripping the huge steering wheel with both hands and as he gently pushed down on the pedal, the Caddy slowly began to move away, the huge motor under that equally huge hood was barely audible, Bill bounced in his seat almost like a child, relishing the moment, he turned to Mr Young, "I don't think this thing has ever done more than 25 miles an hour, ever, Christ she just purrs!" He looked over again,

Mr Young was fast asleep, he soon realised that he was not getting a lesson in driving on desert roads out of the kindness of his companions heart, the teacher was dead to the world, the pupil, Bill, was on his own! 
      As they rolled along the huge desert highway they passed by very little oncoming traffic, the occasional pickup, some drivers would acknowledge them with a polite wave, others simply blanked them, their eyes looking straight ahead showing no emotion at all, Bill smiled to himself, was this American Gothic for real, was this a Norman Rockwell painting come to life! Later on they passed  a couple of bikers, riding side by side, dangerously close to each other, the guy in the buckskin waistcoat with 'Son Of A Kai-San Vet' emblazoned across the chest of his t-shirt handed something across to the biker with the ‘Brando" jacket and curiously, a washed out 'Smiley Face' T-Shirt  who was nearest to the Caddy and with almost nonchalant precision, as if this was some kind of Rodeo act,  obviously they were sharing a joint, why not thought Bill, it's a nice evening, he could not help hearing Bon Jovi rolling through his mind, these guys after all were on steel horses but were they wanted dead or alive, he smiled and thought to himself, Bill, you are such a prick! As they neared the Caddy they started to slow down and gradually came to a stop as Bill pulled up alongside, the biker nearest to the Caddy peered in the window and noticed that it was Mr Young, he turned and nodded to his wingman then looked back straight  at Bill, "hey buddy, you gotta keep right on to the end of the road, keep your eyes and your mind open, here, this is for you",  he threw a freshly rolled pair of doobie's neatly tied together into the Caddy! Leaning over Bill,  Mr Young acknowledged the generosity of the men, “you take care sledging it down this piece of black top boys,”  each of them gave a twist on their throttles giving out the distinctive song of the V-Twin, "we will, we are always one step ahead of any cherry top that might be cruising down this way, don't you worry about us Mr Young", and with that, with a crunch they both dropped down a gear and roared off into the night but not before one of the men called out, "hope you find what you’re looking for Bill"!  As their tail lights disappeared into the shimmering distance Mr Young turned to Bill, “a good pair of guys those two and I do believe, two new friends for you Bill!" No sooner had he spoken, he tilted his hat down over his eyes and drifted off once again.
      The heat coming through the windows was relentless and very unforgiving, this was all set to change as the heat of the afternoon slowly left the day behind and the cooler evening air took over getting ready for the night, the long desert night! Bill was still mesmerised by the whole deal, the Loco, the Caddy, Mr Young, the huge length of black top that just seemed to keep unrolling in front of them and the vastness, the miles and miles all around them of raw, scorched earth! It may have been thanks to the occasional rasping snore from Mr Young that kept Bills concentration levels up, the fact that he had taken one of his favourite pills, those with with the 'M' on was helping too, usually he avoided driving at night anywhere but this was a road trip that had his senses completely in tune with the landscapes that they passed through, he just felt so alive, he felt that his demons, those little bastards that seemed to have been suppressing all of his hopes and dreams for such a long time were gradually lining up to leave his body at last! 
    They had been on the road for a couple of hours when  he first noticed began to notice them, the fires in the distance, they seemed to be every couple of miles, not blazing infernos, just little bonfires here and there, he became more and more curious, he wound down the window to get a clearer look. The breeze that came in at first took his breath away and more to the point,  woke Mr Young!
      "Now what did you do that for? he began to giggle, "damn you boy, I'm gonna kick your arse! My first boss used to say that whenever I sassed him, but hombre I'm pretty pissed off with you right now, I was in the arms of..whoever..whatever, why did you have to spoil it, why, oh why, oh why," Bill thought his passenger seemed genuinely annoyed with him until he caught sight of the wink in the windshield, Bill was still curious about the fires and returned to the window,  staring out into the distance, "sorry about that, but what are those fires out there, who is it that lights them?", leaning over and looking through the window, "what, them things, probably the Sundowners, they do that so they know where they are, it gets as black as ink out there you know!" Bill brought the Caddy to a halt, he turned to Mr Young, "what's a Sundowner, no, let me guess, they are the same as me, kindred spirits who are in search of the thing that is missing from their lives," gripping his arm tightly, Mr Young looked Bill right in the eye, "that's right!, you ain't the only one who wants what is his, the thing that is missing from his life, come on pull this thing over and we’ll take a walk and find 'em!" Bill, with a look of surprise, disbelief even, through a cracked voice said, "Christ Man, I was fucking joking!"
      As Bill climbed out of the Caddy he stretched to full size, "when I die I want to lay down in one of these babies, Christ I have never felt so relaxed but at the same time, I'm tingling, is that right, is that normal?" He  closed the door his side with a clunk, Mr Young smiled, "come on then hombre, let's get some of that smoke  and dust up our noses," then they both started to walk away from the road, Bill looked behind them at the imposing silhouette that the Caddy was leaving by the roadside, it was then that Bill realised just how big it was, standing so serene against the primeval backdrop of the desert at night!
    As the two men made their way towards the first fire, Mr Young broke the silence, "so Bill, when did you first realise it was gone?", surprised and puzzled by this odd question that just  came from nowhere, Bill turned to Mr Young, "what do you mean, what was gone, you will have to explain that one because that has gone way over my head, what do you mean?", laughing quietly to himself Mr Young threw out an arm across Bills chest to stop him, "your soul your mojo Man, the very essence of you I suppose", Bill stood opposite his inquisitor, kicking back and forth the stony ground, a cloud of dust seemed to be swirling around his feet  rising like smoke, he knew he had to give an answer of some kind, "I don't know, a while I suppose, it's a case of being happy, being content, being comfortable within myself, fuck it, that sounds pompous, selfish even, if it does, I'm sorry, I don't mean it to", Mr Young turned to face Bill, "yeah! and your point is what exactly, it was obvious when I first met you that something was missing from your puzzle Man, you were kind of...oh I don't know," looking to the sky, “thinking what exactly, I'm not quite sure, it may be that you were just bewitched, bothered and bewildered, yeah, maybe that's it," then excitedly gripping Bills shoulders, "Christ Man, make a note of that, there is a song in there somewhere even if I say so myself!  Raising his eyebrows, Bill said, "there is, it's been done already, I recall my old man singing it!", looking deflated Mr Young released his grip, "there is! , are you sure? Well shit in this old hat and punch it, I thought I was onto a hit there, oh well, whatever, you get my drift anyway, you were lost within yourself and I'm going to help you find you, with a little help from my friends of course," he looked up quickly again, Bill on this occasion was once again ahead of Mr Young’s thinking, "that too!," Mr Young stared hard into Bills eyes, " that too?, what?" Laughing at the glaringly obvious, Bill said, "that's been done as well, a little combo from way back, The Beatles," cracking half a smile Mr Young replied, "who? The Beatles you say," and with a look to the heavens, "nope, never heard of 'em!," he winked at Bill and they continued walking into the desert. 
          The two men soon reached the first bonfire and Bill was slightly cheesed off that they found themselves alone, there was nobody about! Looking around Bill broke the silence, "where do they go, it's so dark out there, do they even know where to go, it's a daunting prospect even in the daytime I would think but at night, fuck that, I would just cuddle up with a bottle of red I may have in my ruck-sack, look at the stars maybe, have a little drink or two, possibly have a think, try to unravel my head, dilute some of the glue in there, what do you bit of a think, what about you Mr Young?" Staring at the flames as they danced around in front of him, Mr Young sniggered, “I think I should very much like a swig on that bottle of red and you know what, I think that somebody already  has..." He bent down and picked up a half empty bottle that had been, or so it would appear, strategically propped up by a small pile of rocks, stranger still, there were two glasses next to the bottle! "Someone knew we were coming maybe," said Mr young, "what...well don't look at me, this is as strange to me as it is to you," protested Bill. Turning the bottle  and using the flickering light from the fire, Mr Young scrutinised the label on the bottle, "whoever it was,  or is, they know  a good grape when they taste it, Mission Bell, this is a nice wine!" He then handed Bill one of the glasses, "savour this hombre, this will hit the spot, trust me, have too much of this stuff and it will certainly blow the wax out of your ears"! Bill seemed very hesitant at first, "Christ Man they could be coming back, you don't know!"  Mr Young threw an arm around Bills neck and laughed, "Such a cherub, so innocent, so fucking stupid! This has been left for you and....whoever, me in this case, but it was for you to share a glass or two with, I don't know, maybe the guy you met on the Loco, what did you say he was called, Graham or something? No my mistake, Gram, that was it, the Rodeo guy," quickly and in disbelief Bill turned to Mr Young, "I never told you his name, I don't think I even said I had met anybody on the Loco, Christ you are ripping my shitter Man," smiling and shaking his head, slowly Bill turned to Mr Young," you really freak me out, not in a scary way but in a strange way!". 

         The two men both looked up to the sky and studied the stars and the patterns in the night sky, inhaling deeply the night air, Mr Young, while he was looking up, maybe it’s that woman, the one who you think lives in that song of mine, who knows, and for now,who cares, let’s just have a drink and give a bit of thanks to them anyway," nervously and perhaps a little reluctantly, Bill accepted the glass and watched as Mr Young filled it with the wine, then as they stood together in the darkness with just the orange hue from the fire on their faces they gave a toast, to the desert, the night and to whoever the hell it was who had been thinking of them. 

         You ever slept under the stars Bill said Mr Young, one of the best ways to get real!  Bill, busy taking another mouthful of wine from his glass, “what do you mean, real!" Mr Young seemed to be serious for a moment and was giving some thought to the answer he was about to give, "just you, your thoughts, your questions and out here, the desert, the stillness of the night makes all of those things much clearer and thus my friend, help you, me or whoever to sleep real good, no interference, pure clarity, none of that crosstown traffic shit that can sometimes barrel through your mind!", Bill looked at his companion, gave a deep breath, "what is it you Yanks say when you have been pulled into a story," momentarily he seemed to be mulling over the words to the expression in his head, " oh yeah that's right, hang the rich!, he laughed, "but it's a good one I'll grant you that, but it's late, I'm done in and you too, so in answer to your question, no I have not and yes I will!" After finishing off the wine along with some chips and crackers that Bill had bought at Crosby's store earlier, Bill rolled up his rucksack into a pillow, pulled  his jacket around and lay down near the fire, Mr Young had grabbed a few things presumably from the back of the Caddy and returned to the fire, Bill laughed at the tattered old pillow that Mr Young threw on the floor  an equally worn out Driza-Bone wax coat, "you never know," he said, "the clouds might open"! Bill muttered to himself, " something tells me you do this quite often", "'ain't that the truth amigo, some of my best lines have come to me when I've laid down under the stars, but if the old heavens open, I'm gone! I'm in the back of the Caddy with the rest of the souls of the departed, only room for one back there amigo, so you are going to be out here, on your own," he laughed out loud as he covered himself with the battered old coat, "but remember to wake me if she comes back!" Bill was staring into the fire, turned to question the statement, "who is, she? When who comes back?, "Billy boy, so many questions, the Witchy Woman of course, if she appears in a song of mine like you seem to think, I have got to know what she looks like!, so just let yourself go with the flow amigo, go with the flow, goodnight and Amen". Soon Bill was on his own, Mr Young was already, contentedly snoring under his hat, Bill made a pattern in the sand with a twig, he juggled over the thoughts racing through his mind, how the fuck could he sleep now he thought, he might miss something and he had no real  clue who she is, what she is, if she exists at all, what is it in his mind that made him think she was a witch, an all seeing eye maybe, his all seeing eye!  After a while, he had finished off the last of the wine and decided that somewhere out there is a kindred spirit of some kind, he also knew that Mr Young was bound to ask him a shitload of questions in the morning!

To be continued……

Taking The 'Caddy To Mountain Time! 
(Part.1)

    
(Most of the people in this desert tale, I have never met or am I ever likely to but if you are armed with a vivid imagination, you are going to use it now and again, don't you think!)

....and so, it begins.

           The gentle rocking of the carriage must have finally helped him fall asleep, maybe it was the breeze that came in through the open window of the carriage, either way, once he had put his head on his rolled up jacket against the window, with the gentle and the welcome feeling of the breeze upon his skin, after the humid layers that had surrounded him earlier in the day, this was more than just some 'light relief', this was some kind of heaven.
"Sir, sir, excuse me but this is where you get off, Sir, hello in there",
The guard gently shook all that remained of the sleep from the passenger, waiting for some form of response and when it came, the guard doffed two fingers under the braided peak of his blue company hat in a kind of 'lazy' salute. Bill slowly started to focus his eyes upon the guard,
"Sorry mate, must have gone for a while".,
"That would be about seven hours ago Sir, not much to see out the window at night anyway, it’s kinda black don't you know, anyway I thought you should know we are just about to drop you off at Stone Dry, which I believe, is your stop Sir!  Bill realising that this was where the journey really began, grabbed the guards arm as he turned to head up the carriage,
"Have I got time to go to the bathroom before we stop?"
Looking at Bill then at his outstretched arm, he smiled,
"Of course Sir, we will be pulling up in about twenty minutes from now, no rush, get your things together and leave them by the door", Bill was glad to know that he had a little time on his side, he was busting for a pee,
"Is there a sink in the bathroom, I want to clean my teeth and splash some water on my face"', the guard looked at him then smiled, he quietly said,
"Mind you don't piss in the sink and clean your teeth in the toilet", he obviously thought it was amusing because as he turned away again he was shaking with fits of the giggles. Bill hauled his ruck sack up the carriage and eventually got to the sliding door, gave it a couple of tugs and it was open, he smiled to himself, for some reason he always thought of an air lock door, like the ones that 'shoosh' in Star Trek! He pushed the bag under the chrome luggage rack, turned and saw a sign on the adjacent door, 'Male Rest Room’, this is it, he bent down to his bag and after feeling about inside, he found his washbag, he went across to the door and slid it open. The movement of the train seemed to be playing games with his bladder, he just could not go, the fear of missing his stop and the possibility of causing a queue at the door seemed to be working against him but he persevered. Finally, his bladder tap turned on, the relief he felt was almost pleasurable, he rolled his eyes skyward and loudly sighed,
"Holy Fuck, did I drink that much, where the hell is all that piss coming from", he muttered to himself all of the time trying to stand firm on the floor of the cubicle in order not to pee down his jeans! He washed as best he could in the tiny stainless steel basin made all the more difficult thanks to a previous visitor who had made off with the plug, he smiled to himself, that it is not an act unique to Britain, he then sparingly sprayed his arm pits with the deodorant that was getting dangerously low, first gas station or truck stop, his list of supplies was getting longer! Once he had cleaned his teeth and swilled the last of his mouthwash, one last look in the mirror, he winked at himself then slid the door open,
"Christ man, I was going to call the guard, I thought you had died on the John, what kept you, hardly the decor?"
Bill was confused. Did he know this man bearing down on him, he didn't think so, and he had been the only passenger in the carriage for hours as far as he knew! "Sorry dude, just freshened up a bit, I'm good to go now, I'm Bill by the way, next stop is mine",
"Yeah, I know, Stone Dry, are you English?" Said the stranger cocking his head to one side and squinting, 
Bill looked up to him,
"That's right, I'm here doing a bit of soul searching", pushing past him the stranger said, "thought so and.....I know", he slid the door shut, Bill was confused and looking for the right words to say while stood outside a Men's Room door, "I suppose the accent gives me away but how do you know why I'm here?" With the toilet flushing and the taps running, the stranger spoke, 
"We have been expecting you, it's ok we are your friends,” he then slid the door open and faced Bill,
"Oh shit, don't you just hate that", Bill looked at him, "hate what", the man continued “there is no plug and no towel, may I", Bill looked even more surprised when the stranger started to dry his hands on his denim shirt, his last clean shirt! It was too late to object anyway, "Be my guest, and you are" the reply was not what he expected, the stranger continued, "a good friend of mine is English, Keith, heard of him,  great guy, you would like him", Bill thought to himself, Keith is it, of course, Jesus Christ how the hell would I know him?, "no sorry, can't say that I do," then noticing the strangers attire, he quickly changed the subject, "I must say I , like your shirt man, what are they, rhinestones, pretty cool," Bill then looked down for some reason at the strangers feet, "what's with the bare feet guy, or have you got soles of leather?" Pointing to the top rack behind him, "they are mine, made for walking but I ain't walking out of here just yet!" Looking at the beautiful pair of square toed  boots with what looked like a Phoenix rising from the flames design that had been 'hammered' into the sides of each boot and each boot being resplendent with its own gleaming silver spur attached, Bill was very impressed, " are you a cowboy, is there a Rodeo up ahead?" , laughing the stranger replied, "not a cowboy, more akin to a Desperado I reckon, oh by the way, call me Gram", looking back to the boots then back to Gram, Bill had a look on his face of surprise at first then understanding and then, realisation, he looked Gram in the eyes and smiled, “good to meet you man and....I think I do know that Keith guy," then turning to pick up his ruck sack he asked Gram where he was heading, "fancy a bit of company, I reckon we have got plenty to gab about and I'm in no hurry, what do you say?", Bill stood up shaking his ruck sack into a more comfortable position on his back, then he realised Gram, had gone, he quickly turned to look on the rack behind him, the boots had also gone!" Looking all around the compartment and through the dirty Windows, he looked into each carriage; he was alone, was Gram there or was he in Bill’s head?  Was he so tired he imagined their meeting, he thought back to the bar he had called in the day before, the bar where he had gone to wet his whistle with perhaps one too many Tequilas and the joint he shared with that barmaid after the bar closed, he smiled to himself, she loved my accent too, she took him to her apartment for the night, he smiled again, was he just another 'Brit for her to tell her friends about, what the hell he thought, everybody needs a bosom for a pillow now and again and she was a beautiful person and he would always remember her, perhaps not her name but he would always remember 'her'!

    He could feel the huge train begin to slow down followed by the sound of squealing metal; the wheels were gradually coming to a stop, his stop. "Sir, got your things together, this is you, your stop, Stone Dry, population....", the guard seemed to falter, "you know, I've been through this stop countless times but I have paid no mind to that statistic ever before, 'ain't that funny!", Bill looked to the guard and realising there was not going to be an answer coming from him anytime soon, quickly went off on a tangent,  "as long as I can buy a coffee and hopefully stock up my ruck sack with some basics", then realising what he had said he shrugged, "or rather I should have said, essentials, I am going to start stinking soon and that won't do"! Politely agreeing with Bill, the guard gestured to the door of the carriage, "this way if you please, your stop awaits", Bill collected his things and for some reason felt compelled to shake the guards hand, the guard seemed pleasantly surprised and firmly shook Bill's hand, and pointing out of the open carriage door, "there you go Bill, Stone Dry, your journey now begins, I sincerely hope you find what you are looking for, good luck", Bill turned and walked towards the door, he suddenly stopped, how did he know my name?  turning back to the guard, "thanks very much but how do you....know.....my.....name?", the guard was gone, Bill looked back but he was gone, he thought to himself that if the guard was not such an amiable guy and it was the middle of the night, he would be shitting himself, he smiled and headed to the door once again. He stood there for a few seconds waiting for the dust to settle, the heat was almost as if he had opened an oven door, his eyes had become instantly dry, no time now to look for his sun glasses, he used his arm to shield his eyes and carried on walking down the steps. Now stood on the platform or more like the land between the train and the outline of a building that was slowly materialising through the dust, this must be it, this is Stone Dry, he walked towards the building still protecting his eyes with his raised forearm.
Arriving at the building just as the dust was falling away, he heard a blast on a whistle, "all aboard", it was the guard looking over towards Bill, he did that little salute that he had performed earlier, he shouted over, " hey Bill, maybe see you later", and before long the huge rattler was moving along the track slowly disappearing from view.
Finally standing in front of the station house, Bill looked around, he appeared to be alone, the door to the building was propped open, presumably to allow some air to flow through, he started to make his way to the doorway, feeling as he went for his wallet in his jeans, trying as best he could to remember the list of supplies that he hoped to pick up, "Christ I hope there is some kind of shop here", he muttered under his breath and as he walked in, he smiled widely, there was a small convenience store opposite the ticket office, smiling he thought his prayers were answered that is until he saw the closed sign hanging on the door, "fuck it, what am I going to do now, I stink like a moose!". He turned and walked up to the ticket window and peered through the round grill, "hello, excuse me, anybody here", he stood and waited for a response, nothing, he called again, slightly louder this time, Hello is an...." Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a tap on his shoulder, "no need to shout buddy, I heard you the first time", startled, Bill turned around and was confronted by presumably the station master! "I'm sorry I didn't realise anybody was here", said a rather sheepish Bill, "you don't say", said the man pushing past Bill and opening the door to the ticket  office, " you must be Bill, am I right?" Bill felt slightly uneasy, how did he know that, he didn't know him from Adam so how the fuck did this stranger know who he was!!
"Well, WHAT DO YOU WANT", he shouted to Bill through the round grill in the window! Bill stepped back away from the counter and looked at the man, he was annoyed rather than alarmed by the attitude of this man, he thought to himself what a complete shit that this man was, he proceeded to berate the man through the window, "well excuse me, where I come from you would be considered a bit of a Git, an extremely rude Git," the man laughed loudly, "a Git you say, been called a lot of things in my time but that's a new one on me", he seemed almost pleased with this new title, still giggling to himself ,"okie dokey Bill, what can I do for you, by the way the name is Neil, some call me Mr Young others call me Shakey and before you say it, it 'ain't because of the booze or the drugs", Bill was puzzled, intrigued by the remark, he waited for the explanation,
"This 'ain't my usual job either, just helping out until the Goddamn med's kick in, I'm an epileptic you see, I have 'brainstorm's, although the Doctors prefer me to refer to 'em as seizures for Christ's Sakes, whatever, shit happens don't you agree!" Bill had known this man minutes but already he felt that he had known him forever, not liked him forever but certainly known him,  "you are not an American are you," Bill remarked at Mr Young’s accent, "correctomundo, I'm almost as British as you are, I'm from your Commonwealth, Toronto as a matter of fact," he put his face right up to the grill, and with a mocking tone he proclaimed "that's in Canada don't you know ," Bill, not wishing to be beaten, "is that so, well I never, who'd have thought", Mr Young let out a laugh that was more of an acknowledgement to his new friend, "jeez, you Brit's fucking kill me man, you kill me," and with a wink and a glint in his eye, "right then, where do you want to go Bill," Bill shook his head, "why does everybody I meet seem to know my name, I'm a desert virgin who has never been this way in his life, a newbie for Christ's sake, smiling as he looked at him and nodding in agreement ,Mr Young went on, "Holy Moly, you yak on more than my old lady!", he left the ticket booth and met Bill outside by the counter, "look hombre, you are here because you want to be here, we knew you were coming one day, so just go with the flow buddy, you got to keep moving, remember, rust never sleeps", Bill looked up at him in realisation as to who Shakey, Mr Young, really was! Lost for the right thing to say, Mr Young slapped Bill on the shoulder', "you like that phrase, that's one of mine!" Wondering what he was talking about Bill asked, "One of yours? What might that be?" Letting the door close behind him, "fucking hell dude!, rust of course, you gotta get with the programme if you want to ride with me!", getting more puzzled with each passing second Bill looked at Mr Young, "I'm riding with... you? Where are we going?" Grabbing Bill's arm Mr Young announced, "Who knows, who cares, wherever that old bus wants to go, you do want to find your soul don't you?" Looking over to where Mr Young was pointing, there in front of the small station house across the other side of the track from them was a beautiful albeit, dust covered 1955 Cadillac, no ordinary Caddy, for what was unfolding as no ordinary road trip, this was a hearse! "'Ain't she a beauty", said a proud Mr Young, "got her cheap, well actually, the funeral home were glad to get shot of her, she was kind of from another time, not in keeping with the image they wanted to project, they felt she would not look right in the Goddamn virtual brochure they had on their Web site,  fucking stupid if you ask me, a goddamn van would do the same job anyway, let's be honest, most passengers could not give a shit as long as it is black I suppose, then suddenly Mr Young stopped  and threw back an arm to prevent Bill passing him, he appeared to be having some kind of epiphany, this alarmed Bill, he thought that he was about to witness a seizure!  Mr Young turned around and proclaimed, "you know what, there has got to be a fucking song in there somewhere, what do you reckon hombre"!. After a few seconds had passed, Mr Young continued walking on and recounting the story of the hearse, "so she cost me next to nothing and I really like nothing, so we struck a deal,  I picked her up, filled her up and...ta-dah! "So, you coming or what, we should make the desert road before nightfall!" Bill felt like his mind had already been made up for him, "OK, let's go, but before we head out, is there a store nearby, I need to pick up a few things!" Pleased that he had a companion for the trip, Mr Young turned and walked up to Bill, "we shall call in to old man Crosby, he runs a store just as highway  21  joins the desert road, if he 'ain't  got it, believe me, you sure as hell don't need it!".
    The highway was little more than just a wide road that seemed to go for miles straight ahead into the shimmering heat haze, at least it was a relatively smooth stretch of black top, Bill thought to himself that there can't be many smooth and quieter forms of transport to be in like the one he was in, a hearse! For a vehicle of this age he was amazed at just how immaculate it was, from the steering wheel that was the size of a trash can's lid, the gentle clunk coming from the column auto change, the dials that still all appeared to work, the glass on the dials perfect, the maroon leather bench seat, this thing just purred back to a bygone time, mind you, Bill was a little uneasy about the beautiful, shiny wooden platform behind them, with its chrome runners and ornate bars each side, after all, this had until recently had to earn it's keep, this was a vehicle used for business!! During the journey to Crosby's Store, Mr Young insisted on Bill being the first to listen to a couple of songs, "Help me out here will you Bill, reach over to that box of my stuff, there is a small tape player with a tape of some stuff I want you to hear," Bill obliged and finally touched hold of a cheap little tape player with a speaker gaffer taped to it, "is this what you mean?" Bill stared at the botched up piece of tech in his hand not knowing whether or not to throw it from the open window of the 'Caddy or hand it to Mr Young, no need, Mr Young grabbed it from his grasp, "that... my friend, is a little piece of magic, just six AAA batteries and BAM!, all I need to lay down some of my thoughts!" After pushing a button on the top, with the word PLAY in tippex, Bill thought that was a bit strange, why would he need reminding which button to push, there were only three, presumably they were the regular, Stop, Start, Rewind and although the forth button was missing it must have said Forward, where is the problem he thought! 
  "OK Billy Boy, check this out and don't hold back, tell it like it is, as long as you say it is good that is, if you don't, I'll just have to kill you", Mr Young yet again roared off laughing at his own remark, " had you there, only kidding", it's Monday today, I never kill on a Monday, just a little quirk of mine! Bill fell back into the big bench seat of the 'Caddy, "that is just as well dude, Monday is a bad day for me anyway,  actually any day that ends in 'Y', so that makes us even I reckon!" Mr Young, staring straight ahead and holding the steering wheel dead still  with one hand, punched  Bill on the arm with the other, "you fucking Brit's, you are just so 'off the wall', love you Man, now listen to this, he pressed the start button and soon a tune came through the speaker.  Although Mr Young's voice was not to everyone's taste, it was haunting and seemed to go with the landscape, Bill found himself captivated, hanging on to every word that was uttered, something just seemed to hit home, it seemed to dig into his very soul, perhaps the soul he was searching for! When it had finished, Mr Young turned to him, "well, what do you think, good 'ain't it! Bill was still mulling over the words in his head, "What's it about, who is it about, fuck me man, what is it called?" Mr young looked ahead and appeared to be giving it some thought, "do you know what, I'm fucked if I know, perhaps you could help me out on that one? Bill seemed honoured in some way but very confused, "I think it's about an angel or maybe a witch in the desert and there is a fire that this dreamer type of guy who is really a free spirit but he's trapped in some way, he just wants to cut loose, so anyway he sees this fire, this light in the distance, that leads him to the other side of those hills that lead to the Canyons which  is where he has to go and she, this witchy woman, is  lighting his way, I think, kind of , maybe", Bill gazed out of the window as they purred along the blacktop, it was then that Mr young, slowly brought the hearse to a stop, turning slowly, he looked straight into Bill's eyes, “How the fuck did you know that hombre?, best you tell me how it fucking ends, he said quietly, because I'm stumped but it would appear that you are pretty well there, that is virtually spot on!" Bill looked down to his scuffed and battered fire trap boots in the foot well and then continued, " I don't know, but somehow I do, does that make sense, and anyway, never mind all that, you still have not told me, how the fuck do you know my name is Bill!"., drumming the huge steering wheel, Mr Young just smiled knowingly and holding out a hand he said simply, "we're here, Bill, I give you...Crosby's Store!"
Like a dust bowl relic from those black and white days, there it stood, the store, or was it a shack or more like a stand, whatever, according to Mr Young this guy Crosby,  he sells it all, they both got out of the 'Caddy and walked over towards the door!
    "Hey Croz you old bastard, get your arse out here, someone I want you to meet!" Bill was stood behind Mr Young and waited for the next move of this road trip to play out! "Who you calling an old bastard, last person to call me that was....my mom, no, wait a minute”, he paused to think for a few seconds, “no, it was my third wife and she was a bitch, she never understood me”, they just looked at each other, burst out laughing and hugged one and other the way old friends do. "Ok you old fence jumper you, what brings you here, is it my wine, my woman, my songs or maybe you need a bit of my weed, you always want some of my weed, it's a good job we are amigos or I would tell you to go and, I don't know, phone Elvis or something," Mr Young pulled his friend close, "I tried that but ain't you heard", Croz stepped back and looked his friend straight in the eye, "heard, heard what?", looking around him, Mr Young quietly replied, "I tried that but he must have gone ex-directory, because he sure ain't picking up, reckon he ‘aint home!" With that the two friends burst out laughing, Bill started to laugh too, not at the joke but at the two men in front of him so obviously the best of friends aching  with laughter! A few minutes later when the laughter had subsided Croz turned towards this 'new' stranger, "so you are Bill are you, we knew you would come see us some day," Bill had by now given up, they 'all' knew him, they 'all' knew he was coming and they 'all' knew why, except Bill of course! 
    "He needs some supplies for his ruck sack, what ya got to make him smell a bit nicer", said Mr Young whilst thumbing through the latest copy of Motor Trend, "you are going to pay for that I hope", barked Croz, "this 'ain't no library, I've got to make a living you know", Mr Young raised his eyebrows,"OK,ok, I’ll put it in the bag with his  stuff, he'll pay", he said winking to Croz. Bill had been filling a basket with all of the things that he needed or 'thought' that he needed, deodorant for a start, some toothpaste and mouthwash, a couple of litre bottles of still water, he then started to scour the shelves for things to eat on the trip! A big bag of potato chips for starters, some peanuts, fruit he thought, got to pick up some fruit, it's been a while, don't want to get scurvy, he smiled to himself as he saw a stand with apples and bananas, Christ those Melons look good and so do the grapefruit, he was just about to pick one of each up when he remembered, no knife, "shit, that rules them out", he turned to Mr Young who was tapping him on the shoulder and  reading his mind it would seem, he was pointing to another display stand of hardware, "this what you want amigo?" There in a big display bucket were some packs of plastic cutlery including a larger, sharper knife that was more than adequate to take on a grapefruit! "Make sure you pick up two of everything won't you", said Mr Young , "two, why two, are they that disposable," said Bill  quizzically , "no, I just thought that they look far too big for one person, so,  I don't mind if I join you, as long as you don't mind that is" , he said with a wink while looking over Bills shoulder at a stand containing some Snickers and Mars Bars, "they look good too, grab a handful  of them, got to keep up our sugar levels, I reckon we should grab a cup of Joe while we are here, got to have that caffeine buzz this time of day."' Bill pulled out his wallet ready to pay, "Is there anything else while you are at it", he said smiling and shaking his head," do you know what Billy boy, I think that's it, Croz add this lot will you, I think we are just about good to go". Croz looked at the basket of supplies, "OK, let's see, health and beauty products, deodorant, toothpaste, mouthwash," he then picked up a small canister of floss and looked over firstly to Bill then over to Mr Young, laughing he said, "jeez man, you’re going on a road trip not Club Med but I suppose you want to look good for the Coyotes and the Vultures," again he laughed, Mr Young rolled his eyes into the top of his hat, "come on man, leave the guy alone, he knows what he wants, and he just wants to look good before they bite his arse"', both men roared with laughter, at Bills expense of course, Bill just smiled and shook his head, "yeah, yeah how much do I owe you," he said as he pulled two twenties and a ten dollar bill out of his wallet, Croz seemed to just scan his eyes over the basket, mentally adding it all up, then looking at the notes in Bills hand," keep on looking 'cos you still have a bit more to spend and I 'ain't got no change so you just carry on looking and buying"! Bill carried on looking around and saw some matches, always handy,  then a torch, "you'll need these then", said Mr Young tossing over a couple packs of long life batteries, "will it be ok for me to buy a couple of tapes for that machine thing of yours", he asked Mr Young, "knock yourself out, as long as there is no polka or disco shit, think of my ears too!" Bill started to wade his way through the bargain bin, some Doobies and a JD Souther and Laura Nyro, Christ he thought, this is a nice selection and so cheap, Dennis Wilson, “oh man” he said out loud, “this just gets better and better”, Blood On The Tracks, he remembered that somewhere back in his past he had the album! He had nearly finished tape flicking when Mr Young threw him a couple of tapes, "got to have these in your bag", Bill looked at the tapes, Joni Mitchell, Ladies of the Canyon and the other tape he did not recognise, he turned it over and smiled, Harvest by Neil Young, he looked up at Mr Young who winked at him and smiled, "I reckon you might like that one, one of my best even if I say so myself!" Croz had done his adding up, "if you give me $50 that should be fine, Bill looked at him and said, "are you sure, that's a lot of stuff there, Croz looked over to his old friend, "is this guy for real, does he want me to give him a goddamn receipt?" He turned and went up to Bill and staring him in the face, "Bill, I like you, you seem like a real nice guy, such a good guy, I'm going to let you have this lot for nothing, ok with you?” Bill was flabbergasted, why should this guy who he hardly knew be so, charitable, so nice, Mr Young brushed up alongside Bill, "he can afford it, load it all up, say thank you like a good boy and we'll get the fuck out of here and head for the desert and go find that Witchy Woman, what do you say"! Bill looked at Mr Young then at the man loading up his rucksack,  "excuse me but, you are who I think you are aren't you," Croz smiled, "man, I am whoever you want me to be," Croz then turned to Mr Young, his thick, white hair and drooping moustache almost appeared to be silver in the sunlight, laughing to his old friend,"you best tell him that Croz is short for Crosby not Custer!" Both men gently butted heads and laughed at the comment," I reckon he knows who you are, holy fuck, I think he even knows who I am by now," Croz pulled away and looked at Bill as he packed his rucksack, "I suppose you are right but does he know who he is, does he know what he wants and who the hell this Witchy Woman is?"

To be continued..........





Sent from my iPhone

What were you talking about?

(The Mystery Girl and the Cat in the Hat)

    Ok, that's enough for me, the TV is crap tonight, the tea is drunk and I'm in no mood for reading, so pee, teeth, then the lights are going out, I am not going to fight it anymore, nobody to talk to, she's gone now, she has been asleep for ages, she can sleep on a washing line,  so I suppose, she is the lucky one, I like late TV, she doesn't, I like to read she doesn't, she likes Sudoku I don't, what's next, separate beds for fuck's sake!
        Ok, I’ve pee’d and the toilet seat is down, my hands are now  washed, my teeth are brushed, I guess I'm done, not done in, just ready for bed, so it’s bathroom light off, now to navigate across the landing and into the bedroom, without waking her! Like a Ninja, I'm in the bedroom and with no mishaps so far, fumbling in the dark, touching the bed, I move around to my side and as quietly as I can, move back the quilt and with stealth and total precision, I slide in to the bed…. I'm in.
     "Have you locked the front door"? She's awake, shit!
     "I thought you were asleep?" Opening one eye and moving not a single other muscle, remaining completely covered by the duvet, she spoke once again, "not with all of the racket your making, go down and check the door, before we are murdered in our own bed...please!"

Out of the bed, down the stairs to the door, check the handle, locked, I fucking knew I had locked it!!  She is so good at that, making me doubt things, Christ has she been faking orgasms all these years, oh fuck it, there I go, doubting again, doubting my own ability!  Back up the stairs making sure she hears me this time and I know she has because of the loud 'tutting' coming from her side of the bed,
"Goodnight dear", she say's sarcastically as I thump my pillow and slide once again under the quilt.
      I Lie still with the quilt up to my chin, trying to get in the zone, trying being the operative word here, I close my eyes, lightly at first, trying to relax with the vain hope of trying to wind down my body.

After what seems like an eternity, I open my eyes, I'm wide awake, not even remotely sleepy, but it's late, I must be tired by now, I check my phone on the bedside cabinet for the time, instantly I am blinded by the back-light on the fucking thing, I fumble for my glasses, Christ, not even midnight yet but it seems I've been here for ages!! Now she is awake, busting my balls for waking her up with the light from my phone, no excuse on earth is going to work, she's pissed off and that's that, romance is definitely out of the question tonight, but it may help me! She, obviously pre-empting my next move, “not a chance buster, go to sleep”, how does she do that!, how does she know what I am thinking, I exhale a long deep, pissed off kind of breath!  Lying there once again for what seems like forever, I sense the bed dipping, she's got up; she’s gone for a pee. Christ Almighty, she say's I make a racket when I go, she should listen to herself but I'm saying nothing, I would record it on my phone but that's a bit kinky, a bit Pervy and at 'stupid o'clock in the morning, she would definitely not see the funny side!
    Right then, let's give it another go,
"Goodnight dear...love you", she grunts back at me and pulls the quilt tighter around her, acknowledging my sarcasm and soon she's gone to who knows where a woman goes when she closes her eyes! Looking up, staring ahead of me towards the 'grainy grey' of the bedroom ceiling, I lie there, willing myself to drift, closing my eyes tightly in order to produce a vision of blackness. I hear no sound, even she is now just producing a soft, gentle purring sound, she has gone, for now but she will be back in the morning, oh.... she'll be back alright.
      I just can't get off, I turn to the left then back to lying on my back, I turn to the right, then back again, I sit up for a while, stuff that, that's a bit too chilly, back I go again, under the quilt to try again. All sorts of things drift through my mind, work, money, sex, paying for sex at work, I smirk then giggle, well it makes me laugh, I soon find myself wincing in pain, she has jabbed me in the back with her elbow, angrily she chastises me,
"Will you go to sleep, you have to get up in a few hours and so do I"

Lying as still as I can I try yet again, shall I get up and make a drink, no, I'll only have to get up later for a pee, so I just lie there quiet....waiting and waiting and waiting and.....!
      I must have just gone, who knows when, you just do I suppose, the dreamscape world we all visit, you never seem to go through a door, you just turn around and......your there, it's there, it is always there whether we want it to be or not, whether you like what you see or who you meet, the power of dreamscape takes over, deep within your subconscious, these are the things that come out to play with you while you sleep!      “Christ I have not seen you for.....ever and yet I know you; you look so familiar, I can't hear you and yet, I am sure I have heard you before, what's your name again? Hey! “I quickly turn around, “Where did he go?” Who is this then? “Hello, do I know you, I am sure I do, do you remember me?, did we have a good time together? Please say yes,”  hang on a minute.....where did she go? Does nobody hang around in here, “excuse me mate can you tell me........”
He turns around and looks at me, Jesus what have I said, he looks really angry, but what have I done, I don't even know him!
"What's up with you, what are you looking at me like that for, hang on…. it's you, yes that's right, you were my English teacher, you never liked me and I certainly didn't like you, what are you smiling at, I can tell you are laughing but why can't I hear you,” he looks puzzled and taps a finger to his chest, “yes you, I'm talking to you, where are you going and don't walk off, hang on will......,where did he go, did you see him?” I'm talking to myself again, I'm on my own, and there is nobody here!

      Christ, I can play the piano now, I’m really good, very impressive, I’m reading the music, hang on a minute, I can’t read music and these are not my hands thumping the key’s, I know I can’t play, shit, I’m not miming am I, what would be the point of that, then again, who is going to hear me anyway, I’m dreaming, you can do whatever you want in a dream, you are never going back to the same one, so what is the harm but whose hands are they and why are mine…. tied behind my back? Looking down at the hands, I realise they belong to a woman but who? Hang on a minute, what’s her game, the hands start to move up my chest and begin to massage my neck, that feels so nice, I begin moving my head backwards towards the soothing hands, then suddenly….she stops!  She smells so familiar, from where, I don’t know, I look down to her hands, I open my eyes, wait a minute, they are not a woman’s hands, she’s gone; they are a pair of gloves that I see, without hands, ok Mr Dali, you can come out now, you have had your fun, where the fuck are you, ok so I am more of a Warhol fan, is that so bad!

     “Don’t worry”, whispers the voice to my ear, “I shall look after you”, “What! I’m getting angry now, “I don’t need looking after”, I look over to where the voice is coming from just in time to see one of the gloved hands  that has  now left the keyboard and has closed to become a fist that is hurtling towards my unguarded face, I turn and brace myself for the crunch…..nothing, I take a look, “who the hell are you, where did you come from…..wait a minute, just hold the front page…I know you, you went to my school, you know me, you must do, you are in my dream for Christ sake, why else would you be here, we obviously know each other, don’t we?, wait a minute , she’s back, the woman from a few minutes ago, It seems like minutes but in dream land, more like nano seconds, this is a dream after all, do space and time exist in our dreams? Who knows, who will ever know, fucked if I do and all the time I spend thinking about it, this woman who I just can’t remember is going to go again, “ Hey you, hang on a minute , please! She is stopping to wait a while but she still won’t turn around, “You’re a one aren’t you, do you mind if I call you Mystery Girl? I know you’re a woman but mystery girl conjures up a lot of…mystery I suppose”,  I continue to put questions to this woman, “you seem to keep turning up, do you find me attractive, do I make you laugh, in the right way of course, just what is it, who are you, what do you want, I know, I have said something offensive, crude perhaps, I don’t mean it you know, that’s just the way I roll,  just as long as you understand that,  I don’t want you talking behind my back, I am very sensitive you know, I pick up on things, I cry, even though this is a dream…I think,? This is not real you know, just my dream, so I guess it is my rules, so in the nicest possible way, will you please, for fucks sake turn around while I am talking to you?” Christ I’m going on a bit, a bit too much perhaps because whoever it is or was, she has gone! Slowly I look around my dream, it looks like I’m in it on my own, guess I shall just carry on drifting through this strange and yet so familiar place until I manage to wake up! 

       “Hello there,” there is a cat at my feet, “where did he come from,?” it is not one of my old ones although it could be, no can’t be, none of mine ever smoked and I don’t remember them ever wearing a hat like that, I look down and the cat looks up at me and winks, this makes me smile, it makes me happy,” hey there hombre, looking pretty good there guy”, Christ I’m talking to a cat, who would have thought, I don’t even know him, I smile as he starts rubbing at my legs the way that only cats can do, he looks up to me again, “got a light on you, my stick has gone out”? I pull out the pockets of my pyjamas and shrug, “Sorry kiddo, I don’t smoke anymore, just the occasional….” , I stoop down and give him a knowing wink, he stands there, that flat footed stance that cats are so good at, he looks back at me with that hat cocked to one side, with a squint in my eye, I point down to him, “Did I meet you in Paris, drinking coffee and watching the world go by?” Slowly the cat turns away and skulks off but not before he turns and says to me, “wrong cat, wrong place and probably the wrong time, I never leave this place”!

Was I just talking to a cat, was a cat talking back to me, where the hell has that woman gone, “Hey, Mystery Girl, where are you, let’s talk, that’s all, nothing to be scared of, this is a dream for fucks sake not a nightmare…..I think”?  It seems I have walked for miles, perhaps I am sleep walking, that’s funny, I’m asleep anyway but do you dream that you are sleep walking, this is hardly restful, is it any wonder that I sometimes wake up feeling like shit!

“what do you want to talk about”, the voice behind me startles me at first but I turn anyway, “Oh, hello, I was wondering where you had gone, now then, tell me, do I know you, I feel that I do or at least I should, please help me out will you”!

“I’m whoever you want me to be” she says, “ I’m the one you always wish for, I’m the one you always think about, I’m just your average, every day, Mystery Girl, so……let’s talk”!

        Suddenly I feel the pain in my back again, she jabbing me again as the alarm goes off, I jolt into life and my eyes slowly begin to open.

“You need some early nights you do, you were fighting with somebody all night and as much as you deny it, you were talking in your sleep again”!  “What, you’re hearing things, ok what did I say then”, for some reason I am very defensive almost touchy about her comments,

“I don’t know, you were swearing but then again you always swear in your sleep,” “ok then, what was her name”? “Her name?, who?

“The Mystery Girl, who else”, she sit’s up and stares at me, “who is this…. Mystery Girl when she’s at home”?  I’m a little confused, she looks at me waiting for an answer, “I don’t know but she was there last night”, “where, you were in bed with me all night”, I slowly start to smile, “ maybe I’ll meet her tonight again”, “maybe you will but you have got to start relaxing more, cut down on the coffee, I get up from the bed and just as I leave the bedroom, I turn to her, “ I’ll see if I can find out tonight but it’s a dead cert that you won’t be there”, shaking her head, she looks up at me and says, “ and where might that be”, “a place where you can’t go my dear, my dreams”!

WHY?

I knew you were going,

I could see the signs, was it something that I said?

We were so good together, I looked after you,

We looked good together, where did we go wrong?

I treated you well; you were always well cared for,
You never wanted for anything,

You always smelled good, you were the best, I always saw to that,

Obviously, it was not enough because you still left me, 
Never to return, no coming back, no false starts, just gone,

When you did go, the (w)hole you left just got bigger and bigger,

Was that your parting gift to me? Was that the final shot, 

The one that really cut me to the bone?

I covered it up for as long as I could, I tried to hide the pain, 
What was the point, everyone could see it, except me,
Nobody told me, but they knew, oh yes, they knew,

You knew all along that you were going,
Of course you did,
Did you hate me that much?
We had been through so much together!

Alas, things change, I changed, I had to,
So I just I learned to live without you, 

Things were just that much shorter; I knew it would be, 
No point in hanging on to the past,

How I miss you though, we were so good together,

Do people still point and stare, or is it just in my head,

Of course it is, why I should be any different, God only knows,

So, gradually I have accepted your loss; life for me goes on,

But It still hurts every time I look in the mirror,

That bald guy staring back at me,

A victim to vanity, he misses a lot of things,

But you are so missed; you are up there, top three without doubt,

Mother Nature.... Hell Hath No Fury....you bitch!

(The breeze running over your scalp....not quite the same really!!)

16....I'm on my way!

Part.3   I've got a Triumph....OK!

      After a year almost to the day, it was time to move on, the time was right for me to go....before I was sacked!  The chief clerk at the transport company had been there for years, I did not like him and he certainly did not like me, bit ironic really because he got on so well with my dad! He was always fine with me, when my old man was about, but as soon as I was on my own, he was a nasty piece of work. He insisted I always referred to him as sir, never his Christian name, this was always strange to me because I was one of the few in the company that was expected to, and I had to report to him each morning even though his office was miles away from mine! On one occasion I remember, I phoned him from my office to report in but he said or rather he demanded that I report to his office immediately! When I arrived at his door, he beckoned me in and proceeded to berate me like I was a pupil and he was the Headmaster and of course me being me, turned and said,
    "is that it, have you finished because I have got a ton of work to do"' this angered him even more and he started yelling at me even more, that is until the depot Manager walked towards the office,
      "Morning all, everything ok,?" With that I was quickly ushered out of the clerk’s office in order for him to creep and crawl up to the manager, "yes chief, all under control," under control he said, that was the thing you see, I was not under his control, and he hated that, unlike the other office junior, a snot nose little shit who worked in the main office and was considered a bit of a protégé  by the Clerk and seemed to get away with murder because he always did as he was told, unlike myself who even at that young age, was not impressed by many people, it was not that I went out of my way to be awkward, I just hated bullies at school and why should I think differently about them now that I was at work, and this guy was a bully! This was something that I would remind him of in a couple of weeks’ time when I handed in my resignation! If it was a case of me being a slacker then fine, I would have deserved it, if my work was poor or my time keeping was bad then ok, I can't argue with that but all was fine in those departments, it was just the old personality thing, we just clashed! Things came to a bit of a head on one occasion when I went to see if I could help a customer who had come in one day. This guy came in to ask for some prices on how much it would cost to send of all things, a mast from his sail boat, it was to go to The Isle Of Man and this man also just happened to be, Irish! This man was such a nice guy and he was the real deal, all he needed was to have a green suit on,  a pint of Guinness in his hand and be holding a shamrock in the other! I think without putting too fine a point on it, he was my first encounter with a 'real' Irishman other than those in film and TV, I was fascinated by his voice, this was, if such a thing existed, poetry in motion.  During our meeting he went on further to say that the 'Irish fellow' knows all about this and perhaps he should speak to him to save any confusion! Now this confused me,

"I'm sorry, there are no Irish people who work here", I said to him and he then looked back at me quizzically ,"of course there is, I saw him last week and I spoke to him this morning," laughing he then went on and whispered in my ear, "listen here young fellow me lad, I'm not as daft as you think I am, that man is right now sat there in that office," he said pointing over my shoulder to the main transport office! I looked around and through the windows of the office, trying to figure out who he meant and the only person in the office was the Chief Clerk, the horrible git that tried to rule by sheer physical presence! 

"You mean...him?" "I do indeed, that's the very gentleman, I'd like to see him if you please," I walked over and was just about go in, when he looked up to me glaring, for a second I had nearly forgotten that I had to knock, heaven forbid!  So I knocked and he was looking down at some paperwork and without even looking up at me, he called out, "enter", a response that I just could not take seriously, especially coming out of the mouth of a jumped up little shit like him,  "there is a customer to see you, you spoke on the phone this morning," he craned his neck to look over my shoulder then quickly stood up and brushed past, "that will be all, you can get back to your office now", and as I walked up the loading area, I heard the clerk talking in a perfect Irish accent to the customer!  It was so fluent, so accurate that I just had to stop and look around and then much to his annoyance, he turned his back on me and ushered the customer into his office, he knew alright, he knew that he had been rumbled by me of all people!  My dear old friend Vic could see that I was at first dumbstruck and then he could see what I was thinking next and quickly moved in to tell me all about what had just happened. Laughing his head off and coughing his lungs up, he removed his cigarette and proceeded to tell me a story, "his Great Grandfather was Irish and so whenever he can, he likes to give the impression he is too, he has done it for years, and we all have a right old laugh about it", the closest to Ireland he has ever got is watching the Val Doonican Show on T.V every Saturday night! I turned to him and was just about to speak when Vic put his hand up to my mouth to close it, "don't worry about it or worry about him, it's just what he does, he thinks  it makes his boring life seem more interesting to others! As a young Buck, I just could not get my head around that, I could not understand what possessed a grown man to spread the bullshit and not realize that he was not fooling many people, what a sad man he must have been!
      After a year, I was nearly 17 and it was, I felt, time to start moving on, it had been a great year on so many levels most importantly and noticeably, I had grown up. From my first day, I had hit the ground running with very little time to dwell on my past, just to wave it goodbye.
      When it came to handing my notice in, I remember having very mixed emotions. Seeing the governor and thanking him for giving me a chance, to prove that I could work in the big world, saying goodbye to Vic and all of the drivers was hard, they had been so good to me, most of them had looked after me but they had also let me live by my own mistakes too, looking back I am truly grateful for that, I may have been Dave's boy but I made my own way, on my own merit. My last day was very bittersweet, sad in one way but exciting in another, the new job was more money, working with people more like my own age, a million miles away from what I had been doing and it was one of those ‘Déjà vu’ moments, I finished on the Friday, had the weekend to enjoy before starting on the Monday, almost as I had done a year earlier, except back then I left school, this time I was leaving one job and going straight into another!
      My new job was as an office junior, again fortunately for me it was not far from where I lived, so for the first few weeks my trusty old pushbike was still required. This job was to most young lads of my age almost like 'living the dream', it was one of the biggest Motorcycle dealers in the South West of England, chrome, speed, lots of noise, however, not for yours truly, initially they all meant Jack Shit to me, the main reason I had gone for the job in the first place was pure and simple, more money. I liked bikes but I didn't love them, even back then I liked four wheels as opposed to two, much more.
        Day one in a new job is a bit strange, unlike your very 'first' job out of school where you are given a bit more slack, a bit of time for 'bedding' in, a certain amount of generosity is afforded to you for the cock-ups you will undoubtedly make, your second job is a lot different, you are expected to know everything there and then and for that reason you are probably viewed with a bit more suspicion, it is more like "whose this new guy, is he here to take my job"?
    Now I am the sort of person who has always been 'an open book', what you see is what you get, so it usually doesn't take too long to blend in and 'establish' myself and after a day or two, all of those boundaries that supposedly surrounded me, were gone.
      To start with, the initial view is that you obviously like motorcycles and probably own one, I fell into neither category and it took me a little while to understand why people should think that, you must remember I only applied for the job because it was more money, no other reason!
      By now I had owned my first car for quite a while, and a few weeks later, I passed my driving test at the second attempt, my first test was a dismal failure, too cocky by far, I still had to realise that you can do whatever the fuck you like, when you have passed, until then you do it by the book, but Like all young men of that age, I was full of snot and beans  and I knew more than the examiner did and when those devastating few words hit you, "I'm sorry but you have failed", I just thought it was a mistake, what did I do wrong, and then I was presented with a list of things that just went on and on, I just remember saying to the examiner, "ok, ok you have made your point”!  When I did pass eventually, my world was transformed almost overnight, the world was my oyster! Like all 'first' cars, it was a banger, legal but still a banger and I loved it, I would clean it regularly, polish the rust, fill every hole with plastic padding, cover up any dings, dents or scratches with an assortment of decals and stickers but most importantly, try to make a tank of petrol  last as long as possible! However, most of all, it was mine, I saved for it, I paid for it and I appreciated it more for that reason!  It was a 1966 Triumph Herald, battleship grey, with red upholstery and I loved it and because it was a Triumph, it served a different kind of purpose, for a while! Because I now worked for a motorcycle dealer, all of the customers I came into contact with just assumed that I must own a bike, so in those early days I would humour them by answering the inevitable question of "what you got mate", and I would always answer, " I've got a Triumph", which was the truth of course, then I would get the obvious response of, "what, a Bonneville or a Trident," no mate, a Herald!" The strange looks I would get back were priceless, “that must be one of those limited edition models that were only for export, I've heard of them"!  Naturally I would always go along with the joke, well it would be wrong not to! That car served me well that is for sure, I always made sure she looked nice but I would get regular bollockings from my old for not checking the oil or the water, "you would look a right little prick if the fucker would seize up on you, does not  matter a fig how shiny it is", this was his almost weekly tirade to me, of course he was right but back then, at that age, I just thought he was a grumpy old git who was always on my case, fortunately for me, my mum would moan at him for moaning at me, so I did have an ally of sorts. 

The famous Triumph!

(It was 1977 and I was coming to get ya!! 

                               Ok,Ok...you had to be there!)

   

      I soon got into the swing of things with my new job, a few balls ups, a bit of argy bargy in the first few weeks but even back then, I was one of those people who once you met, I was a good bloke to know. I would talk to anybody, I was still young enough to see things and most people at face value, and cynicism was still an emotion that I was yet to completely discover. The year before had been an education, I had learnt such a lot but this job however, was going to take things to another level, lots of highs, some lows but this was the start of the Martin that was to come, like him or loathe him, if I was to put the pin on the map, this is where it all began for me.

Part.4       to follow soon….

Reply Reply to All Forward More

'The Canyon Lament'  
(Perhaps, maybe, who knows….
...you had to be there!)

    Was it a big deal back in‘67, maybe, maybe not, 
It’s all a bit of a haze, one great big colourful....haze.

Just like that guy with the ‘Strat, you know the one, only his haze was Purple, mine was all the colours of the rainbow, so to answer the original question, they could have been, maybe they should have been, so they probably were big back then and....
.... they were probably pretty cool, you had to be there…. MAN!

    We passed it all around, our joints, our pills, our highs and our lows, we knew everyone, perhaps only a brief encounter but we all knew each other, or did it just feel that way,
Perhaps, maybe, who knows....you had to be there. 

The colours in the clouds, the stars in the sky, 
The spins, the climbs, the faster drops,
We shared it all, sometimes up, sometimes down, 
Together we raised our hands, 
Some flew without wings, Some flew on strange wings, 
Some crashed and burned because they got too close to the Sun 
Others found the beauty within, that elusive happiness,
The ability to like and to be liked,
To love and to be loved, 
Some  found what they were looking for, whatever that was, 
Some are still looking, who for, what for, even they are not sure....
Man, you had to be there!

     Our music we loved, because we got it, it said things to us, it meant something to us, it could make us freak-out, it made us love and be loved, whatever, however, it was so cool….
Man,you had to be there!

Through yellow and blue lenses, fringes on our jackets and loons in our pants, Smiley's on our chests and  bandana's on our heads, 
We were truckin' and we kept on truckin', 
With an old school bus or a beat up Econoline, 
If it was free and making a stand against the MAN, we were there, From the East to the West, this Land was our Land  
We drove our vans or we bummed a ride to make our stand! 

 They gave us their chords,  their twelve string symphonies 
Those that would jangle and there were tambourines for us all, 
They shared their words with us, over and over, again and again, 
It was uplifting, it was joyous, it rocked and it rolled, 
It soared and it swooped all in perfect harmony, 
We all hung on to that 'Express when it came, 
We were A Long Time Gone, to where, I don't know….
Christ Man,you had to be there!

 we whirled and we span, we reached up to the sky and we touched the clouds, for what, who knew, who cared, we just did, it was a trip, our trip and we shared our ride,

Sometimes we came down with a bang, in tie-dye and puke, the sweats and the shivers, the hours that became days, 
Only to became long dark days.... but we got through, 
We swayed to the other side, well, most of us, 
Some turned off along the way,  they found their own Utopia,
Some kept on going and some...are still going,

But it was so good because we were free, we did not care, we had each other …MAN!

Did it mean something, ‘aint that the truth, 
It was something else….MAN!

Some were hit with a pulse, they collected the drone, 
That continuous drone from your head to your toes; 
They were the ‘Dead Heads', who moved in harmony for hours on end,  at one with their inner being, 
Shake rattle and……far out….you had to be there!

What did it mean, who the fuck knew, it meant something better we hoped, we just passed around the flowers and pulled on our joints, 

And the world that perhaps only we could see, 
We shared with our friends, the food that we ate,  
The wine that we drank, 
We shared with our friends, 
The men and women we loved, 
We shared with our friends , 
What was mine, was yours and what was yours was mine….
You had to be there!

To love was so cool, it was open and honest,

Today she was mine, tomorrow she would be his 
...And she would be his on Friday too, 
Because Friday was always on his mind, 
We shared the love, we shared with our friends, 
We had plenty of love, enough for everybody…..
Jesus, you should have been there!

Even the rashes and the sores, we shared with our friends, 
It may have turned sour but to us it was still love ….
Christ you should have been there!

Then, the MAN appeared, the MAN who had been watching,
He could see there was money to be made,

We saw the colours; We saw Nirvana,
He saw the dollar sign, he saw the cash cow grazing in our field,

We could see through him, any man is cool in a kaftan, 
At the weekends of course,

As long as he is back in his suit on Monday!
While we smoked to soften our edge,
The MAN snorted to sharpen his!

The dream became cynicism, a look out for number one,

…but for a while, life was good….MAN! 



(You've got to dream a little.....sometimes!)