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I turned and walked toward the open door of the Mustang while re-running a little video inside my brain of what happened during the last 10 or 15 minutes.

I saw Scooter Guy dazed and confused,  tangled up in the wreckage of his scooter wondering how in the world he went from jamming a yard sale sign into the ground to looking at the sky with a human face staring down at him.  

But most of the scenes in my video were of Kathy and Derek.

There’s Kathy half way out of the car window chiding me about the spelling of ‘Yeard’, making me aware of the penis, knowing that I’d take the bait, wondering what crazy shit would ensue. Her teeth her smile her eyes reflecting sunlight; the light of good humor, her body a metronome inside of some internal clock, bouncing up and down in time with the music that is always there but not always felt or heard or seen. Music that the world brings to us when somehow,  the rigors of every day life fall away and true life is exposed.

I saw Derek coming at me like a soft human tank growing larger his lips stretched back his white teeth gleaming in the sun, ”getting’ the joke,  happy to be part of it, unafraid to show his affection. The last thing I remember, sight of him laughing, double visions of his face bouncing to the music of HIS internal laugh clock.

I pulled the car door shut, put the Mustang into first gear, looked both ways and slowly let out on the clutch.  A split second before moving through the intersection  I glanced into the rear view mirror.

Kathy’s head was still outside of her window. She still had that shit eating grin on her face her head bobbing up and down and up and down and up and down just like the bobble headed hula girl that my grandparents displayed on the open shelving unit that separated their tiny little living room from their tiny little kitchen.

The End …..

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