An 18 year old boy is sitting in Central BBQ and eating a half rack plus a side of beans ... the clientele is a mixture of white and black ... it is 1968 .. life between the two cultures is amicable but strained ... that is about to change ...
The 18 year old boy is 5 miles from where he needs to be ... another loose cannon, Earl, is supposed to be on the case but that is simply a diversion ...
It is close to 3 PM ... the boy pays cash for his meal ... and then begins the long trek west towards the river ... it is April 4, 1968, but it is warmer than normal ... the boy walks with his jacket draped over his shoulder .. .and his duffel bag draped over the other ...
He makes his way to a rooming house, books a room overlooking a motel across the street ... at 6:01 PM he pulls a rifle from his duffel bag and shoots 'It' ... who is standing on the balcony outside his room with Jesse Jackson ...
Earl was still trying to sort everything out ... and still was when the authorities caught up with him ...
The 18 year old boy is not happy ... having just shot 'It' one more time ... but having achieved what was agreed upon ... realizing 'It' is the only friend it has in this world ... or any world ... he projects and returns to the only earthly home he has ... as an ordinary 18 year old year boy ... in New Brunswick, Canada ... April 4, 1968 ....
He enters the house ... his mother is glued to the TV ... there has been another assassination ... his father is laying down in the bedroom staring at the ceiling ... he pulls out Rubber Soul and puts it on the record player ... he is a big Beatle fan ... he shudders at what he must do on the 8 December 1980 ...
He shuffles through his book bag and searches for a partially completed assignment ... he has to be careful to dumb everything down to an 18 year old level ... he pulls out a three ring binder and it has sprung and the pages go everywhere ... he bends to pick them up and then his eye catches the title block of this assignment ... he likes his earthly name this time around ... it has a nice ring .. Phil ... Phil Connor ... millennial friend to 'It' and assassin of the world's greatest minds and leaders ...
To quote from verse 1968 of the Krome Koan,
' ... everyone has a photographic memory .. some just don't have film ... '
No comments:
Post a Comment