Robert Gorton

49. THE BAD BOY

Our tour finds another landmark. You read the brochure, the coming attraction was posted—the maniac is in town!  I broke out my white linen jacket. We have a date!

People, get ready. There’s a train a-coming.

Merrywood!…What now?…Can we see the schedule?…Very funny…Been nigh on a year…

You don’t need no baggage, just get on board.

Talking of baggage!…My Louis Vuitton?…

Don’t need no ticket, you just thank the Lord.

A ticket to nowhere!…Mayfield had faith…He was a gospel singer…Who made a great Impression…The name wasn’t Merrywood!…

Nigh on a year? Reader, as you know, a true work of literature feeds no fever. All right, you have waited long on the platform, but good things come to those who…Detours have delayed delivery, I cannot deny, but the goods are on the way. Don’t go anywhere, the Express is barreling down the track!

“Nice jacket, sir.” A face of misfortune still had a good eye. “Waiting for a woman?” She also held a little mutt.
“Writing a book.” I had little interest in pursuing the conversation. I had even less interest in the alternative, policing the forlorn foyer of an alleged art-house cinema.