Here is a story I wrote. I want you to dig it.
If you don't that's ok too.
Enjoy
Big Joe
This is a story about my friend Big Joe as you might have guessed but if your not sure please read the title again and that should clear things up for you. Big Joe was as you probably guessed"Big"but he was more than that. Big Joe was (and probably still is) a 6 foot 8 inch tall (six foot ten inches tall with his motorcycle boots) native american(or Canadian as it were)man with long black hair down to his waist and a face that looks as if it were carved out of the earth itself. He also had a strong physique,and when i say strong i mean strong as in"lets go for a stroll and pick some tree's along the way"strong. Built like a brick shit house on lead stilts.
He wore faded blue jeans,motorcycle boots as i have said,and a t-shirt of some kind some of witch said things like"Oh Canada! Your homes on native land" or "TRUE GRIT". Over the shirts he usually wore a leather biker jacket and he always had a pair of cheap sunglasses.
I remember i met him in Walmart. I had just finished meeting with some friends in the mall and i was on my way out when i saw the man of the above description arguing with one of the older female employee's. He wasn't really arguing,more like replying calmly to accusations of stealing.
It went something like this.
"Sir you haven't answered my question" said the woman
"about these?" asked the large man holding up a bag of chips.
"I saw you trying to put those into your jacket...i SAW you"
"That can't be so. My Jacket is not hungry,these are for me to eat"
"Don't you get smart with me!"
"Smart?"
"Don't play that way with me! I'm calling the manager!"
"Oh Good. Maybe he can help me pay for these so i can leave. This store is a crazy place with crazy people. You need to relax."
Then a manager took the chips from the large man and escorted him out telling him he may never return. And there he was standing outside the Walmart looking as puzzled as ever.
I went over and offered him a beer from the six pack i had in my back pack.
He thanked me but he said that now wouldn't be a good time to start the drinkin. Since it was around 2 in the afternoon i was inclined to agree with him,even though i was the one that offered. He did seem like he needed it after all. "I'm sorry about what just happened man" I said, "Wallmart are a bunch of jackasses,especially in this town."
"People don't treat you this way in Moosejaw" he said. I laughed at this.
"This is Kelowna , British Columbia Canada man,its the great yuppie oasis" I said."..in the great desert that is rationality and tolerance in which these creatures cannot thrive." It was now his turn to laugh.
I don't know why i did this but i felt i had to. He seemed a man in need of sanctuary,and that was one thing i did have. It was called the The Cottage. The Cottage was a guest house on my Grandparents property which was a nicely sized home on the lakefront. It was a place where my friends and i could go and stay through our teenage years on weekends and such. On many occasions over the years a couple of my cousins moved in and out of the place,as me and some of my friends did as well. I was living there currently and I loved the place,as my cousins and friends did as well. So i decided to tell Big Joe where it was and that if he needed a place of solace that he could come there at any time. He looked at me and smiled then and told me thank you and put his big hand on my shoulder. Then he simply got up and walked away.
I watched him for a while as he walked out of the parking lot and out into the street. After which i went to catch the bus back to my home The Cottage.
There I was,2 weeks later at about the same time in the afternoon at The Cottage with my earphones on. I was playing my drum kit to the music that was coming from the shiny LP that played on the modern laser driven turn table of my time. It was Black Sabbath,one of my many favorites. I could hear the drums reverberating in the small square living room and into the small kitchen that lay in view beside it. This was what made up The Cottage except for a tiny bedroom and a bathroom with a small shower in it. It was home though,and i was jamming like hell in it. I'm getting off topic though.
So there I was,eyes closed and running with the beat when all of a sudden i heard a beat i never heard in the song"War Pigs" before. Turns out it was The Cottage door slamming,and i knew this as soon as i opened my eyes. The cool breeze was also a dead give away. But even so I was surprised to see Joe there standing in my living room.
I stood up and greeted him immediately with a hello as the phones slipped off my head.
"Hey man...what's goin on?" I said.
"Well I was out this way when it occurred to me that i had a spare 48 beers in my trunk and I thought i would share em with you today if you're interested."
"That's not a bad idea,but isn't it a little early?"
"Bah!...Its nine in the morning somewhere"
"Its after that time now in fact"
"Yes...The world is a wonderful place" he said.
* * * *
It was a mere six o'clock in the evening when the beer ran out,and you could just picture the shape we were in. Most of the images I do remember from the rest of that day were at a forty five degree angle or completely sideways,so you could imagine what it probably looked like from an outside perspective.
After we saw the booze was gone we did what any other 2 drunkards would have done in our place.....
Go for a walk.....
I had only had 15 of the beers in those 4 hours...or maybe it was 17....not sure...my point is that Joe had more than 30 in that time...
The day,as said above,seemed not like a day but a collection of Polaroid's or slides in memory form taken in the angles stated above. Many of these stuck out in my mind but i'm afraid only a few are worth describing. Which should be ok given the potent qualities of these few.
Slide 1-
Angle-45 degrees
Description-I see my grandmothers house in front of me.......I'm in the yard next to the cottage....The Dog "Rascall" is running out of the house barking and heading straight towards Joe. Joe is reaching for his rifle....."No" i want to shout..but that doesn't happen. What happened instead was a sensation that felt like a waterfall in reverse in my throat and right after that the green green grass in front of me was not so green anymore. As it turned out Joe wasn't reaching for a rifle but for a piece of jerky instead.
Its hard to distinguish the difference when the mind is in such an illegal state.
I don't see my grandmother in this slide...she must be out....thank whatever twisted Gods run this reality. Its not really a slide show is it...more like small movie clips taken by a limping camera man. So I'll apologize for the inaccurate description above and then get straight on with the next bit. Incidentally the only thing interesting about this clip was the totally unnatural shade of blue in the vomit. I'm just going to leave it at that for now.
Slide 2-Part 1
Angle-Normal at this time
Description-I see a contraption with various logo's on it. Its a slurpee machine.......I must be in 7-11. I was in 7-11. I was pouring some blue goo for myself.( I guess that explains the above situation ).I remember smelling something that could only be described as"wet crotch" when i turned around and saw one of those pre-pubesant inbred homie types.....and yes...was as white as the wash. He was a fat fucker...that much I saw...and he started saying things to me that sounded like insults. I was being made fun of. Where was Big Joe? I thought. Ah yes he's standing outside. I pushed past the walking twat rag in a hostile manner.
Slide 2-Part 2
Angle-Slightly off normal
Description-In this shot I see I'm still in the 7-11. I am across the store now...by the doors,completely across the store from the slurpee machine and the blubbery rap junkie.
Where is my slurpee?......ah yes there it is....it seems to be hovering in mid air. No...just flying in slow motion. Events like flinging the rest of your slurpee at a bleached version of the Notorious B.I.G. are always in slow motion at the time.
Slide 2-Part 3
Angle-A flat 90 degrees and then changes(see below)
Description-There is commotion....and laughter...everything is sideways...the laughter is coming from me...and a round form spattered with blue...kind of resembles marble cheese......is running towards where I am....I can feel the ground shake.....oh wow the floor is disgusting!...no time to feel revolted at that now....the bounding ghetto is getting closer......I feel myself levitating......everything is shaking now like in the blair witch...Joe is carrying me off......the fat bastards friends are chasing us.....and I'm mumbling and giggling. I think I said something like...
"hehhehehe......fuckn locomotion man.....gona need a whole lot of..er...bricks......FUCKER!.....he's gona need a big parachute to stop him....."
We managed to escape unharmed. Even Joe couldn't contest with that many in the state he was in. I think they had pipes which was also a factor of retreat.
Slide 3
Angle-Normal but shaky
Description-Blaring music....everything is shaking.......and I really need to piss....
I can see that i must be looking out the back window of a vehicle......but i was doing this facing the back window......this is strange i thought.....i should be turned around if i want to look out the back window......but i wasn't....here I was looking at the back roads of the Okanagan forest...we're going uphill into the mountains......Joe is beside me driving......he's leaning out the back to see where we are going.........ah he's in reverse.....but going very very fast while doing it.......odd that he'd be going in reverse all this way on a back road up a mountain.(The Next part of the story will offer some explanation as to why this is so don't worry too much)What's blaring so loud?......its.......ZZ Top!...Sharp Dressed Man to be exact......its been on for a while I think....too long.....odd...
Eventually I remember the music stopping and birds were chirping. The smell of pine tree's was in the air and it was getting quite dark out.......and soon everything faded into blackness.....
* * * *
I woke to the sound and smell of a crackling fire as well as cool morning wind on my face. I opened my eyes to see Big Joe handing me something on a stick. Dear God...I felt like I came in second in a fight with an Iron android copy of Mike Tyson with barbed wire gloves and spiked shit kickers. On the end of the stick was a white mound...slightly toasted.
"Eat up buddy"Big Joe said. "Everyone knows marshmallows are a good cure for hangovers"
"Really?" I said.
"Well no i don't think so,but they have to be good for something. They're the cats ass"
"Indeed" I said,taking the marshmallow and eating it up promptly. I sat up and took a long drink of water. That's when I saw the car in its full splendor.
The thing sat about thirty feet from our camp site. The make was undistinguishable exactly but we know it was a large vehicle(or a lot of large vehicles put into one) from the late 70's or early 80's. It was a two door and it looked kind of like a Camero or a Lincoln town car...somewhere in there. The colour was an interesting shade of brown,a mixture of tan and rust. There was definitely a lot of rust. There were no hub caps which was no surprise to me at all.
When it started it sounded like the cry of a buffalo being put into a wood chipper but when it was running it sounded more like a whole bunch of old men clearing their throats and coughing....but continuously.
Joe said he got it cheap off the reserve and I believed him. I was also shocked to find that it was insured and perfectly legal to drive. The next few facts will justify my shock at this.
The only gear working in it was reverse,but it was still able to go its top speed anyhow.
The inside was alright except for the dash board. Some sort of mishap with fire had happened to it because all of the dash boards instruments were all melted together in a giant mess of black plastic. You couldn't even see any of the dials or instruments like the fuel gauge or the speedometer. When I asked Joe if that was a problem he simply told me that he always knew when his tank was empty and how fast he was going through intuition and certain guttural wheezing from the old men in the engine block. The worst part about this torched dash was the tape player was completely fused. The volume was always on max no matter what and there was a mix tape with "Sharp Dressed Man" by "ZZ Top" on it. Its one of those tapes annoying people make. You know the people who really really really like a song so they make a whole tape with one song looped over and over again? This was one of those. So no matter where we went Joe would be driving backwards and Sharp Dressed Man would be blasting at a deafening volume. This fucken car barreling down the road was like a big shaky charging rhino with bald tires and lots of billowing smoke. The police stopped him many times only to find out the car was perfectly road worthy according to Joes license and registration papers,which he proudly displayed usually with a shit eating grin on his face.
So there we were sitting in the forest on the side of a mountain on a warm summer morning eating marshmallows. "You offered me the solace of beer when my soul was sucked away by the Walmart spirits and for that I thank you" Joe said.
"It was nothing" I said, "I hate that fucken place"
"You know,you should come to de powow next saturday at the reserve. Your can meet Chief Edgewise Stoneface" he said.
"Maybe I'll do that Joe. Hey thanks for the night out. I haven't had a night like that in a while."
"No trouble buddy." He Said. "Anyhow I should get you back to your Cottage for now..this fucken Car needs a sparkplug!"
"My friend Adam knows about cars,you should go talk to him. He's probably got some extra parts plus he's a cool guy too you'd like him" I said. "I might just do that" he said.
So I told him where Adam would be lurking and then we got into the ravenous reservation mobile and drove off.
We pulled into my grandparents driveway and right away,even over the cars loud gurgling I heard the barking of "Rascalion!" the dog.
"Take care of yourself Tom,and remember........never kick in your neighbors taillights when they're lookin" Joe said. "Er thanks Joe" and I laughed very hard then."Having troubles with your neighbors Joe?"
"Nah. Just some advice my father gave me a long time back. It was such unique advice i figure everyone should be enlightened."
"I see. We should do this again some time. Until then have a good day"
" We will definitely. Bye now"
And with that he left, tearing out of the driveway like a screaming smoke breathing Rust Dragon with the ZZ Top roar.
Alone and hung over I walked into the yard and into the Cottage. The blue puddle I seemed to leave was gone and by good luck was blamed on the dog. Nice. From there I stumbled my hung over ass in and dropped in the bed where I dreamed strange dreams which were caught no doubt in the dream catcher hanging from Big Joes rear view mirror.
The End
Story Writen by: Thomas Olsen
Inspired by a Character Created by: Adam Oke
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