3.25.2025

from “Jamestown” (previously published in EPISODES, my old newsletter)

It's the cars. Sedans, sportsters, road hogs, limousines, elephant trucks with no line of sight for pedestrians driven by beards who take out their insecurities on animals and women and children and guys who read books in public, bigger versions of the kids who stepped on and still step on anthills to prove their superiority, ol’ boys whose idea of a good time is spraying bullets out into the world and praying to their pervert gods they hit something living. All-wheel drive, no-wheel drive, whatever. Electrics are just as bad, harder to hear, which makes it easier for them to sneak up on you.

Folks say this used to be a good town for pedestrians. I guess I believe them but they’re also the same people who drive into each other all day, run red lights, stop where there’s no stop sign, watching their grandkids on their phones while they roll over ducklings or crash into the organic grocery store and claim later that ‘the car sped up all of a sudden’. If you're on foot you might as well wear a safety cone for a hat.

Mars says the automobile industry built this state. I tell him well I guess that makes me a bad Michiganese, then, and if that’s the case, then screw this place too, in both peninsulas.

He laughs and takes a crowbar to a steamer trunk. We half expect to find someone inside, a kid preserved like a mummy, maybe, but it’s just a fog of grime and sulfur like in caves. The whole inside of the planet must smell like that. We both gag.

‘What we doing with this one?’ I ask.

He drops the lid and covers his mouth.

‘Dunno yet. That’s for God to decide.’

Seems like a small matter for His Holiness to be involved in but whatever.  I don’t know if he believes that stuff or if he's just lazy with his thoughts. Maybe he just says that because it’s Sunday and he's been at the addiction center next door all morning. He keeps most of his notions to himself. He’s curious about people, though. Always asking me what I think of things. Mostly I’m just annoyed in general, which amuses him. The more serious I am about hating something the more hilarious as far as he's concerned. His only real interests are keeping his wife alive and repurposing junk left in the alleys or tossed out when folks get evicted. There’s a lot of good stuff if you look hard enough. That much I’ve learned from him. And I’m getting pretty good with the torch. Not that I plan on using it anywhere. Not like I’m going to own my own place someday like these retirees up here (though "recent events may have had an effect on property values", the radio said).

Back in the present: would be amazing, like, miracle level, if this old van of his still works. Water up to the axles probably won't improve performance. Door feels like it’s going to fall off, but it opens, and hangs there as if stuck on with tape. Key in the ignition where he always left it. Turns over. Shakes like it's got pleurisy or consumption. Only Mars and me know how to use the shift. Needle says tank empty. The needle never worked. No guarantees. Rusty bastard lurches into the slop. Main thing now is where the hell to go.

*new guest artist: Bee Kay aka Dr. Brian Kemp PhD aka my old pal Brian. I have plenty to say about this guy and his work but will save it for Friday. He calls this series 'Tetris Decoded'.