My Wizard Buddy

Popped off my objects easy enough this silly night, yes indeedy. The blues won't see my signatures, won't hear the echo of my location, no no no. I quickly gather my gear and get myself gone. 3/4 steps and a snap of my fingers, bobbing of my head. Bums know me, think they know me, the wild & crazy dude. They don't know what I do to keep myself crazy. No one could pick up on this trail. 1-2-&-1-2-&1-2.

The beach chills me nicely, icily. After a rush I need this kinda comedown. Like a wet solid slap to the face. I feel the feel of the moonlit winds and their incessant bite. Gripper and Mentor yapping behind the door. Always yapping. No one but me comes wandering this way so I don't know what they're worrying about. Then again, good to know that if any prowlers or police get to wondering about this shack, well, so much for their throats.

I 'dore my dogs. They protect me when I'm not right and lick my wounds when I get myself into trouble. They understand me like no one else in this world has managed and I like to think I understand where they're coming from. I consider whether I'm going to sleep tonight. When I was in college I had a laptop my somebody's somebody had bought me thinking I could put it to good effect. Thinking I'd graduate. I am getting tired but this laptop had some energy to it. I'd burn my stomach when I'd lake back and rest it on my waist. Hot and heavy and so offering of everything I could ask for. It was probably my downfall, showing me a freedom studies couldn't. Never could get work done on that thing. Anyway, I am what I call an auto-didact. But this laptop, for real, it had the sleep cycle I wanted. I could leave that thing running for two weeks straight and you'd hardly notice. Eventually it would start to putter and moan and slow down like I do after two days sleepless. I've heard a couple of hits talking about this drug Profigil or some such that'll fix me up like my old laptop. I'd like to give that a shot. I'll ask my next client if he knows where I can store some. Maybe I'll stip that on my contract. Didn't like the taste of Ritalin back in school. Things are different now. I've been a dog, for one thing.

Yeah, when it was close to graduation but I knew I wasn't going to graduate I stopped attending classes. Started walking. Walked right up to a wizard. Wizard said, son, I will you grant you a wish. The air wasn't right, like it was frozen, like I'd cut myself on it if I ran too fast. But I've never had need to run from anything. I angled myself up and looked at that wizard and said wizard, let me into Rita's heart. Who's Rita, my child? Rita was a girl in my Psychology class who drove me crazy. Possibly literally, if that's possible. I want to be in her heart and by her side for a year. Just to see what it's like. What it's like? Yeah, what it's like to get close to someone. It's never been my thing. I have what I call a preternatural disposition to distance myself. It's for the safety of everyone, really. But sometimes I wonder if I'm not missing out on a whole world of fun, as the song goes, ya know, wizard? Ya know what it is to get a little lonely on Sunday mornings when you're dragging yourself out of bed at noon? Guess that's not really morning is it? Ya know what I mean, what it is to not know a Sunday morning for like a want of getting up at an early hour? My child, if that is what you wish...

Boom Pow I was reborn a dog. A damned little tiny dog in a pound type dog too. Confusing from every angle. Angering, if you will. And there wasn't much in the way of upside potential considering each other dog was twice the size of me. Turns out I was the cute dog, the one Rita wanted. Ooh, isn't he the cutest? Why yes, I guess I am indeed. Flattering start to my next year.

I was easy enough to train, quiet with the barking and very affectionate. She loved me and I loved her. I lied to the wizard, I don't even know why. She wasn't just some girl with a banging body, though yes she was this. In point of fact she was my ex-roomate's girlfriend. Still remember when I first fell in love with her. He and I (and unknown to the landlord so was she) were just getting settled in our room. I don't make ice-breakage come easy. Still though they were kind enough not to be creeped out by me. I'd lie back with my computer on my lap, headphones on listening to sports radio every night while they were busy watching anime. Anyway one night they invite me to go out with them, just to hang out. I say sure, why not. They ask me where I want to go. I say the beach.

It was something close to midnight when we got to Huntington Beach. We parked a block into town before walking tight-lipped, tense onto the beach. We walked circles into the sand listening to the waves lightly lap like a big slow whale sipping from a saucer. Next thing I knew I was talking about my years in Hawaii, and we were sitting by the pier and then we were running and joking 'bout how awesome a frisbee right then would be but I don't think a single one of us was at all athletic-like. There were some dudes who spooked us from way in the distance, dressed in dark clothing and erratic but turns out they were filming some school project. Chill dudes. By two Rita, Ron and I were running around drunk on exhaustion and the release of a nice night out which not a one of us was used to. Never returned to the beach but no need, we were good free and easy friends from then on in. They were a couple years ahead of me so graduated sooner. Didn't keep much in contact much after that. For the best given my sorely hid feelings born that night.

She took me to that beach the second week she had me. She indeed brought a frisbee. It was paradisical. Here Gatsby, she'd squeal, catch the frisbee catch the frisbee doggy! And I'd always catch it for her and her alone. To see her smile. And yeah, I've read that book so I know. I know. I prefer not to think to much on that. Makes me set to doubt myself. Like doubt that my sanity was exactly preserved. Not a legitimate care, though. I was happy. The year went too fast. Deal's a deal though and who was I to have regrets. I'd made out like gangbusters.

So anyway, I was always a good shot. Shot Ron dead to make Rita happy. The client who never had to ask. Then retired to the beach with two thankful strays. Went on with my life. Found a career. Found a rhythm. Found a freedom. Finally found my natural smile. Got my objectives, my gear, my dogs, and my future. Can't seem to lose my smile, can I? Sleep tight.