Tuesday, March 13, 2012

THE TENDER OF SPIRITS / BY RAY RAMOS / PART EIGHT / COPYRIGHT 2012


Bob closed up the Townhouse that night, as he turned the lights out in the almost century old bar. He looked into its quiet blackness that seemed as indistinguishable the shaft of a Pennsylvania coal mine. He listened to hear if any voices wished him a goodnight… but he heard nothing.
It took Bob about fifteen minutes to walk home that night. He thought about the advice Sawtelle had given him, and he was gonna give it a shot. Bob had also found out some information about Isabel. One of her little beach pals came by the bar looking for her. She told Bob that she was on the couch surfing circuit these days. And mentioned the last time she saw Isabel was last night, when she had told her friend that she planned to stay at Bob’s for a while. Bob thought that a little presumptuous, but felt a little bad that he had to turn her out. He found himself kinda worried about the little Unicorn. He hoped that she’d found her self a safe place to lay her head. Then he thought to himself; a pretty girl like Isabel could probably always find a warm place to bed down. But still, Bob worried a bit. Venice was a great place in the sunshine, but there were still people lurking in the shadows ready to snatch the young and innocent one’s when the sun set in the West… even a old local like Bob, needed to watch his back in Dogtown.
When Bob got to his apartment, he found Karen in his bed, she was asleep; the TV was still goings strong with an infomercial about how women can get a butt like a Brazilian. Bob found Brazilian butts interesting and sat down and watched the majority of it. Then he crawled in bed with Karen.
“Be warned, I had a chili cheese dog for dinner tonight,” Bob said to a curled up Karen, as he shut his lids.
A couple hours later, Bob woke up for some reason? And there he was; sitting on the chair that Bob had hours earlier had sat watching the Brazilian butt commercial… it was President Roosevelt. At first, Bob thought he was just dreaming, until Karen kicked him in her sleep. It was him, the third head on Mount Rushmore sitting there staring at him…Bob was speechless, and then the apparition smiled and disappeared. Bob didn’t move or sleep, until Karen woke.
“Morning Bobby,” said Karen.
Bob didn’t say anything.
“Your hurricanes really hit me.”
“I gotta tell you something.”
Karen got a worried look on her face.
“Don’t worry… it’s not about your thing… it's something to do with me.”
Karen sat up.
“Uh, I guess… can you wait until I rinse out my morning breath and pee?”
“Yeah,”
Karen went into the bathroom and came back a few minutes later and got back in bed. She had a naughty looks on her pretty little mug.
“Do you want to tell me your story or would you rather get a hand job?”
“I’d like a hand job, but I really need to tell you this story.”
“Can you tell me the story, while I give you a hand job?”
Karen reached under the covers, but Bob deflected her.
“Boy, must be some story?”
“Karen, remember when you said, that I might think you were nuts?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, you’ve got nothing on me.”
Bob just looked at her for a minute before he spoke next.
“Last night, I shit you not… Teddy Roosevelt was here... right there.”
Bob pointed over to a chair that was truly not worthy of the ass of a President... especially one as monumental as Roosevelt. Karen didn’t say anything.
“For a moment, he was sitting in that chair last night,"
"Bob, what is it with you and Teddy Roosevelt? Are you sure that you weren’t dreaming?”
“I was hoping that’s what I was doing? Until, you kicked me in your sleep.”
Bob looked over at the alarm clock; it was 6:25 AM.
“There are certain things… that I’ve never shared with anyone? But, I feel that I have to tell someone, and considering certain circumstances, well it might as well be you.”
“Gee thanks.”
“I do have… I don’t know what you might call it? I sense things…things, that were formerly I guess living people.
“Yeah, you told me about that time in New Orleans... ”
“Yeah, but it’s been happening way before that. I just never really knew what to make of it?”
“What, are you like Hailey Joel Whatthefuck in the Sixth Sense? Just how… way before that?”
“Well, let me tell about this time…”
“At band camp,” Karen said.
“Will you shut the fuck up? I’m being serious.”
“Sorry… I was testing to see if you were messing with me?”
“Well, I’m not. So shut up.... maybe, I was wrong to try and share this?
“No! I’m sorry; I’ll shut the fuck up! Promise!”
“You probably don’t remember this, but when I was in 9th grade, a bunch of us in Government class raised enough money to go to Washington D.C.. Two teachers that went with us Mrs. Farrell and Miss---
“Leoni?” said Karen with wide eyes.
“Yup.”
“You were right about not getting a hand job... I would have stopped right here.
 Karen did a quick jerk of her hand, with a sudden stop.
“We did the whole D.C.: Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, everything.”
“The White House?”
“Yeah, I’m getting to that; The White House. We’ll, we do the whole tour bit… … anyway we were walking down a corridor, following the tour guide. And we pass an open door and I stopped and look in the room. And I see a guy standing by a big wooden desk, studying a globe and he’s dressed like just like Teddy Roosevelt… looked just fuckin’ like him.  He stops what he’s doing, and looks at me, then gives me this nod of acknowledgement, then goes back to what he was doing. Miss Leoni see’s that I had fallen behind… so she comes up to get me. But first she looks in the door to see what I was looking at? And I thought she saw, what I did?  But, I didn’t say Miss Leoni, do you see Teddy Roosevelt standing there? So we catch up to the tour. Later, I said to her how cool it was that they had people walking around The White House dressed like the old Presidents… and she said what are you talking about? When I asked her about Teddy Roosevelt, she said she didn’t know what I was talking about? In fact she thought I was kidding. I was freaked out the rest of the trip.
“You’re saying that you’ve been seeing him since you were fourteen?”
“Well, no… I saw him that day, that time at your place, and last night here.”
“Bob, you’re right that’s a crazy fucking story… what is he your guardian angel or something? That’s both awesome and fucking weird?”
“Well, he did come to my rescue at your place.”
“You summonsed him, remember?”
“Yeah, guess you’re right?”
“So, since you’re bearing your soul to me… what’s with you and Miss Leoni?"
Bob let out a sigh and a half.
“What was her first name again?” Karen asked.
“Cheryl.”
“Cheryl Leoni…  Bob, are you in contact with her too? Somethings going on?”
Bob was thinking in his head, if he really wanted to go there.
“You are! Tell me!”
Bob pinched the bridge of his nose and made a face, like he had a bad migraine.
“Yeah, she visits me in my dreams… "
“Often?”
“Often, enough.”
“How long has she been doing that?”
“About twenty,” Bob said.
“Times?”
"Years."
Karen made a strange of noise.
“Now, when you say visit… what do you guys do?
Bob chose to ignore that question.
“Miss Leoni was the first woman that I ever became infatuated … no make that, in love with. The first time I saw her was at a school dance in 8th grade… she had just started teaching, she walked over to me and just said hello. She was wearing this pink, kinda checkered dress… she looked so young and beautiful , I almost thought she was a student. I swear it was like cupid hit me with a stick of dynamite; She just blew me away. I didn’t have her as a teacher until the following year, but I made sure she knew who I was.
Bob laughed a little.
"I thanked my lucky stars, when I got in her class the following year… "
“Geez Bob, you had it bad for her. Hey, was she visiting you during our honeymoon in Vegas?”
“No, I think you were keeping me pretty busy for those ten days.”
“Twelve.”
Bob nodded.
Yeah… I spent most of my time in her class daydreaming, about how I was going marring Miss Leoni after I graduated. We actually became good friends, I even got a B plus in English that semester. We took that trip to D.C. and all.”
Bob’s thoughts seemed to taper off.
“We even stayed in touch when I went to Venice High. It was two week before senior prom... when she was murdered… raped and murderedstill unsolved. I was in shock during that whole time of graduation… I couldn’t believe such a beautiful soul had been taken away like that… I had never felt so much grief... I thought I'd die of heartache.”  
Bob sat there with his wound open for Karen to see. She reached over and put her arm around him.
“Did you go to her funeral?”
“No, she was from up the Grass Valley area, Northern California. I had no way to get there at the time… When I got my first car, an old Corolla… a year or so later, I made the trip up there… I sat there for hours… talking to her, crying… I didn’t care if anyone saw me. I told her how much I truly loved her, and all the silly plans I had... I stayed there until it got dark and they made me leave. I slept in my car that night… I only had enough money for gas and food…  it wasn’t long after, that she started to visit me. At first I thought they were just dreams, but they felt so real, and they made me fell good… and maybe that’s still all they are… but they help… because, I can’t just pick up the phone and say; Cheryl do you want to have coffee.”
"You're still in love with her, aren't you?" Karen said.
Bob turned away from her, but she took him by the hand, and gingerly led him to the bathroom. Karen turned on the shower and took off her clothes, and then helped Bob remove his T shirt and underwear.They stepped into the steamy shower, and washed each other's familiar bodies in silence.

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