There I was, riding through the desert on a horse with no name...
Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly a desert.
And maybe it wasn't really a horse, either, but I swear it didn't have a name, or maybe the horse did have a name and it was something sordid that was whispered in back alleys in the dead of the night, or maybe, just maybe, I'm completely fucked in the head. You be the judge.
You probably want an explanation. No worries, I'm about to give you one, you poor fucking bastard.
La, la, la, la, la, la... La, la, la
On the first part of the journey...
It started out as a typical, lazy Saturday morning at my girlfriend Hannah's house. By the time I popped out of the shower, Hannah was already downstairs making breakfast for her daughter, Little Moon (not their real names), who is all of eight years old, tall, stringy and blonde, with an infectious and toothless grin. Little Moon is just a bit more than somewhat of a precocious kid, like twenty miles over the fucking line kind of precocious. Anyway, I bounced down the stairs, without falling, wished everyone a good morning and then said something that was undoubtedly cheesy. Cheesy, I say, because that's what dudes who are dads do, we speak in cheese. Dads who speak in cheese, telling their horrid, cheesy jokes are the fucking worst, let me tell ya'. Pure fucking torture. I used to run for the hills, whenever my father got started. It was inhumane; the true face of child abuse. That man couldn't tell a joke. As for my kids, well, they've earned their punishment. I like to have them trapped in the car, at speed, on the highway, when I start telling my cheesy ass Dad jokes. Hell is for children.
Little Moon looked up from her pancakes and rolled her eyes at me. I wasn't impressed.
Hannah and I briefly discussed our plans for the day, she and Little Moon were headed to a friend's house for a swim and I would be headed off on an adventure with my friend Luke, until I reconnected with the girls later that evening, for dinner with Hannah, Little Moon and their friends, but all of that was still hours away. Once our executive level strategy session was out of the way, the three of us talked about whatever kind of humdrum stuff we discussed, until Little Moon told us about a totally cool, super secret spy pen that her totally cool BFF Abby had shown her at school.
"It's not a totally cool, super secret spy pen anymore if she showed it to you," I told Little Moon.
"Whatever." Little Moon replied and rolled her eyes again. "It's just the coolest thing ever. You can write in invisible ink on one side of the pen and it has a black light on the other side, so that you can read the secret messages." Little Moon then went on to explain, in great detail, just why she needed that totally cool, super secret spy pen and that it only cost way more money than it should for a cheap piece of crap like that (but maybe not in those exact words) and how she would be the envy of every child in her school if she had her very own totally cool, super secret spy pen and how she would become a complete outcast, a social pariah needing years of therapy, if she didn't.
"You wouldn't happen to know where to find this totally cool, super secret spy pen, would you?" Hannah asked her daughter.
"It just so happens that I do," Little Moon answered. "They sell it at Fairhaven Toy Garden, downtown, right by Village Books."
Hmmm... Village Books. I'd been meaning to stop in there. The bookstore was supposed to have a machine that could print books on demand, as in print myself a few copies of my stories as a vanity project kind of demand. The rusty gears in my mind started turning. I don't think they turned very far.
Little Moon then went on to explain that she had to have that totally cool, super secret spy pen that very same day, because the toy store was closed on Sundays and she had to have that pen before walking into school on Monday or the world would stop spinning, the sky would fall and everyone would laugh at her, reminding us once again that such cruelty would require years of therapy.
"Little Moon," Hannah started, "Momma has lots of things to do around the house today, before we can go swimming. I don't know that we'll have the time to do that today."
"Please, Momma?" Little Moon pleaded.
"I could take her," I blurted out, in a fit of insanity. "I could take her to get the pen and then we could stop at Village Books and I could ask about printing a few copies of my book and then we could head over to Sweet Art and get some chocolate fudge. This way, we'll both be out of your hair and you can get whatever you need to do taken care of. "
If you talk fast enough, sometimes you can baffle them with your bullshit. Sometimes. Evidently, this wasn't one of those.
"This is just your excuse to buy chocolate fudge and you wouldn't happen to be thinking about stopping at a certain little ice cream parlour that just happens to be next door to the candy store? Paper Dreams does sell chocolate fudge, you know and it's right next door to Village Books." Hannah asked me in what I must describe as a very accusatory tone.
"I've had their fudge and I'm not a fan," I said. "The chocolate fudge at Sweet Art is the best I've ever tasted; it's made with LOVE. To be honest, I hadn't even thought about any ice cream, but now that you've mentioned it..."
It was time to bring out the big guns. Remember kids, always cheat, if you want to win. This is why I'm a paragon of fucking virtue.
"What do you think about getting some ice cream too, Little Moon?"
Little Moon was all about that ice cream. She sure didn't roll her eyes at me that time.
The tide had turned. Resistance is futile.
"Who eats ice cream at nine o'clock in the morning?" Hannah asked rhetorically.
"Who doesn't?" I answered, just as rhetorically.
Hannah was sold. Shit, she just about chased us out the door. Sucker. Wait. Maybe I was the sucker. Maybe Hannah just wanted to enjoy some peace and quiet, or something. More likely, Hannah had a few souls stashed away and she wanted to devour them. She is a Ginger, after all.
Hannah handed me twenty dollars and told me that it was for Little Moon's pen and whatever else. I told her not to worry about it, but she insisted. We settled for Hannah buying the pen and I would buy the sweets.
"May I please buy a book with the leftover money, Momma?" Little Moon asked, just as sweet as could be. "I've read all of my books."
This kid was good. What parent is going to tell their kid they can't have a book? Little Moon sure knew her shit. She's got Hannah wrapped around her finger. They make quite a pair, those two and they love the shit out of each other.
"Of course, baby," Hannah told her.
Ha! Suuuuuckerrrrrr.
"Momma, may I please get a plushy instead of a book? I haven't got a plushy of the week, yet," Little Moon reached.
"That's because there's no such thing as a plushy of the week," countered Hannah.
"But Momma," Little Moon shot back, "It's been so very long..."
I was fairly certain that Little Moon had overreached with that last request and I was quickly proven right when Hannah interrupted her daughter.
"I don't think so, baby," Hannah informed her. "That money is only for a book."
"Awww, Momma..." Little Moon replied with typical pre-teen angst, but she let it go..
Nice try, kid.
"The two of you should probably run along and get going, before it gets too late to go," Hannah told us.
Wow, Hannah sure was in a hurry to get rid of us. She must have been anxious to get at those souls. Who eats souls at nine o'clock in the morning?
I grabbed the twenty and put it in my wallet, ushering Little Moon out the door and into my car. We drove the ninety second drive into downtown Fairhaven, because I'm too damn lazy to walk a few blocks and we found a parking space right where we needed to be and that had to be a good omen, didn't it?
Well, didn't it?
Fuck no. Of course, it wasn't, but at least it was predictable.
We exited the car and I scanned all four corners. Village Books, an antique store, an empty store with a For Rent sign and some other shit shop. No toy store. Okay, no problem. I pulled out my handy dandy smartphone and I conjured up the Oracle of Google. How the fuck did we ever survive before Google? The gods smiled upon me and the address popped up and it was at the opposite end of the block, but I didn't recall having passed the toy store earlier, but in Google we trust, so Little Moon and I trudged down the block. No toy store.
The Google had failed me. There is no God.
I called Hannah. She told me that the store was back at the other end of the block, the very corner that we had just trudged from. I casually mentioned that there was no toy store at that location, but Hannah was insistent, so Little Moon and I trudged back down the block to our starting point. We arrived back at my car and I looked for the store again. Nothing. I had a sudden, sinking feeling. Little Moon and I crossed the street and approached the empty store. Sure enough, it had been the location of Fairhaven Toy Garden. I was about to have a very upset eight year old girl on my hands.
Fuck.
"Oh, no!" Little Moon cried.
"Let's see if they've moved," I said. "Maybe they have their new address posted on a sign in the window."
I've never been a praying man, but that seemed as good a time as any to start.
As we came closer to the store, I could see that there was indeed a sign on the window. It said, "WE'VE MOVED" and nothing else.
Double Fuck.
It was then that I noticed my saving grace, a small sign on the front door that had the new address of the store. Meltdown avoided. Thank fuck. Eight year old girls are volatile things. I should know, I tend to freak out like one, so that's two, eight year old girl meltdowns we'd just avoided.
This was turning into the journey of Odysseus.
The new location was only four blocks away. Unfortunately, part of that walk included trudging back down the block that we had just trudged down twice and then trudging down it again on the way back. Fuck me. It was like the Triple Crown of Fucks.
Fer fuck's sake.
We trudged back down the block. We trudged and we schlepped and then we trudged some more, finally arriving at the toy store.
Walking. Like common people, or something. Who does that shit? It was fucking exhausting. I'm not a fucking animal, you know. Seriously, who does that shit?
We walked into the toy store and Little Moon was like, well, she was like a kid in a fucking toy store. What the fuck did you think she was like? The shit that I have to explain to you people. I fucking swear...
We looked around at this and that, played with all kinds of crap designed to help children to separate adults from their money, but we came up empty when it came to the totally cool, super secret spy pen. Apparently, that thing could hide better than Anne Frank.
Little Moon found a display of stuffed birds that tweeted or made whatever kind of annoying fucking noise that birds make and she made sure that I heard every fucking bird call. Twice. Sometimes, even three times, just for shits and giggles, I guess.
"You're not getting a plushy, Little Moon," I told her.
"I know," she answered, "I'm just showing you what they have."
She moved on to the next bird. Tweet fucking tweet. I wanted to shoot myself in the fucking head.
"Why don't we ask at the counter?" I suggested to Little Moon. I think I was becoming a little exasperated at that point and I think she knew it and took pleasure in it. Little Moon stared me straight in the eye as she exchanged bird after bird, a smile of savage glee plastered on her face.
"Why don't you?" she replied.
Yeah, definitely exasperated.
We approached the counter and I inquired about the totally cool, super secret spy pen.
The very helpful and friendly sales staff informed me that the totally cool, super secret spy pen was one of their most popular items and one of those very nice ladies came out from behind the counter to help us find what we were looking for.
"They're right over here," she told us, leading the way. "Oh my..."
Oh my? That didn't sound good. Nope, that shit didn't sound good at all. Oh my never fucking sounds good.
"I don't see any," the saleswoman said, "But I'll check the computer."
She went back behind the counter and checked the computer. Unfortunately, they were completely sold out of totally cool, super secret spy pens. Yeah, this was turning into the Triple Crown of Fucks, alright.
Fuck.
Little Moon did not take the news well, but I was able to distract her by telling her that she could pick out something else; anything she wanted.
She ran right to the closest display of stuffed animals.
"Anything but that, Little Moon," I cautioned. "I'm not going to get into trouble with your mom by getting you one of those."
"Awwww...," Little Moon said, but she listened.
Little Moon and I wandered around the store, checking out this and that once again. I swear, that girl must have picked up and hugged every single stuffed animal in that store, telling me how they were all just meant to come home with her.
Good luck with that.
We reached the back of the store and it was loaded with art and craft supplies. Little Moon wasn't interested in much until she finally came across something that caught her eye. It was a diary, with three cartoon owls on the cover and just perfect for a little girl. Plus, anything that encourages a child to write creatively is a wonderful thing, so I was all for it, for the most part.
"This is what I want," Little Moon informed me. "I need a diary and this one is perfect."
Well, it was almost perfect. The only problem that I had with the diary was that I thought it looked a little too childish and that she might outgrow it quickly. Plus, when you buy the very first thing you see, you might end up with a case of buyer's remorse if you spot something that you like better, later on. It's a bit of a conundrum.
I explained how I felt to Little Moon and she did not like my answer. I suggested that before we bought the diary, we should walk back over to Village Books and see if they had any diaries for sale and that she might find something she might like better, over there.
"What if I don't see anything that I like at Village Books?" Little Moon asked me.
"Then we'll walk right back down here and we'll buy this one," I told her.
"Do you promise?"
I promised and we schlepped our way back over to Village Books. Little Moon showed me a shortcut that saved us two blocks. I really wish that whole shortcut thing would have come up earlier, you know, like before my ass was dragged all over downtown Fairhaven. We wandered around Village Books for a bit and then I suggested that we ask where the diaries were.
"You can ask," Little Moon told me.
Not that shit again.
Ask I did and we soon found ourselves in front of a display of diaries. There was a much larger selection to choose from and Little Moon quickly found the perfect diary. It was a much nicer book and was definitely much less childlike than the ones at the toy store; perfect for an eight year old girl.
With her diary in hand, Little Moon and I climbed the stairs to the children's section of the store. At the very first display, there was a book on Greek mythology that just happened to be open to a picture of Medusa. I had to do a double take, because I thought it was one of my wedding photos. Little Moon was off on a mission, bouncing with excitement as she ran ahead to where the new releases were, rounding the corner and quickly disappearing from sight. No worries, she wasn't that far ahead.
As I took my next few steps, I noticed that there was a large wooden barrel filled with stick horses. You know what I'm talking about, it's a stuffed horse's head with reins, mounted on a stick that little kids and demented people like me can pretend to ride on.
Fucking A.
Never missing a chance to embarrass myself in public, I grabbed one of the stick horses and hopped into the saddle, clippety-clopping my way down the aisle behind Little Moon, passing a woman reading a book to her son. They pointed at me and laughed. That happens a lot. I'm used to it.
I galloped down the aisle like Don Fucking Quixote and I darted around the corner, where I pulled up behind Little Moon with a whinny and a neigh, but Little Moon just looked at me and rolled her eyes. Again. That eye rolling shit was starting to be downright fucking annoying, if I do say so myself and I fucking do. Say so myself, that is. Fine. So, I did what any other sane and rational adult would do and I doubled down on the fucking crazy. I galloped in circles around Little Moon, pantomiming like I was a world class rodeo rider, riding a demon bucking bronco. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw the ghost of a smile cross Little Moon's face, but it may have just been wishful thinking. Instead, Little Moon gave me a withering look that said she thought I was more like a world class ass of a rodeo clown than the world class rodeo rider that I seemed to think I was. Whatever. Tomato, potato.
Don't ever go full potato.
"Do you always have to be soooo embarrassing?" Little Moon asked me.
Duh! Of course, I did. How could she even ask? I was hurt. Distraught. Wounded. I wept.
Are you fucking kidding me? Pffft... Like I have fucking feelings or something. Nah, fuck that shit.
"Little Moon..." I began.
Run, Little Moon, run. Run as fast as your little legs will carry you and as far as you can, because you're about to get a little life lesson.
The poor kid had no clue what was coming. Heh.
Where were we? Oh, yeah.
"Little Moon," I began, "Always dance and sing like no one is watching and who cares if anyone is. Take joy where you find it. Laugh loud and strong. Never, ever, miss an opportunity to be silly and have fun. Never be ashamed of who you are and don't be embarrassed to be yourself. Besides, this is a fine steed, a true warhorse to carry a valiant knight such as myself into battle. I shall call him 'Soul Eater', after your mother."
What can I say? I'm a motivational motherfucker.
Little Moon's reaction to all of this was...
Crickets.
It was so fucking quiet that I could literally hear Little Moon's eyes rolling around in her head.
Huh? WTF? I'd just given Little Moon an incredible and important life lesson, words of wisdom to last throughout the ages and she'd completely blown me off. Little Moon had completely dismissed what I'd said and instead she showed me the book that she'd picked out. It was the story of Argos, faithful dog of Odysseus.
Irony can be so fucking cruel.
I hate children. All children. Except mine. I love my children (pinky swear!) and I'm not just saying that because they read my stories. Okay, I am. saying that because they read my stories. Look, I don't want those little fuckers to grow up with some kind of complex, or something. Fuck, I already worry that the middle one is going to be some kind of serial killer or mad scientist that destroys the world, or some kind of shit like that. I'll bet he cackles maniacally when he reads that. Little fucker wants to create a zombie virus that will take a bite out of your ass. He's smart and demented enough to do it, too. You should be worried. I know I am. Oh, and I like Little Moon too and I'm not just saying that because my girlfriend is a homicidal Ginger who reads my stories and always reminds me that if I cross her, she will kill me in my sleep and eat my soul. Nope, I say these things out of love. I just fucking love everyone. I'm a fucking people person. Really.
It all comes down to one thing, really. Some truths are universal. Kids are fucking assholes.
As you can imagine, I was crushed. Devastated. Nah, that's total bullshit. We've already established that I don't give a fuck.
"This is the book that I'd like," Little Moon told me.
"That's a great choice," I said. "It's from a very old and famous story called, 'The Odyssey'. Do you remember what I said about buying the first thing that you see, though? You might want to take a look around at something else, before you make your final decision."
Little Moon agreed and we decided to look in a different section. As we turned to go, in a voice as faint as a whisper, I heard Little Moon ask, "Can I try it?"
Holyfuckingshitballs, Batman!
I whipped Soul Eater around and I dismounted, handing the reins to Little Moon, who was in the saddle in no time at all. The kid was a natural. Now that I had been unhorsed, I used the magical power of imagination to conjure forth a new mount and Little Moon and I took off down the aisle, clippety-clopping to a full on sound effects soundtrack provided by yours truly.
Little Moon giggled.
As we approached the mother that was reading to her child, I warned Little Moon that we were about to pass people. That stopped her cold and she handed the stick horse back to me, unwilling to be embarrassed and ran ahead, so that she wouldn't have to be seen with me, either. Having no shame myself, I quickly climbed back on Soul Eater and continued my clippety-clopping on my way down the aisle.
As I neared the end of the aisle, in full stride and just as loud and embarrassing as I could be, a salesperson and a group of four or five people came around the corner and almost ran into me. Thankfully, I pulled back on Soul Eater's reins quickly enough to avoid an unfortunate accident. The salesperson glared at me, as salespeople generally do and I never understand their enmity, but the other people gave me strange looks too, as if encountering a grown man riding a stick horse isn't something that you see every day. It was disconcerting. I really don't need that kind of negativity in my life.
Our close brush with death had spooked Soul Eater and I was more than a little embarrassed at being caught out at being an idiot. I thought back to the words that I had just spoken to Little Moon and wondered if that was what I truly believed, that you should never be embarrassed or feel ashamed to be yourself, or was that just so much bullshit? Fuck it. It took me about half a second to decide as I continued my ride down that dusty old trail, sound effects and all.
Little Moon ended up picking out a different book, surprising me, she compared prices and went with the less expensive option. I was pretty impressed. We were a little over budget, but that was cool. If a kid wants to read, you buy them a book. I put Soul Eater back into his stable and then Little Moon and I headed for the register to get checked out. I inquired about the totally cool, print your own book because you're not good enough to get a book published machine and was told that it was a piece of shit and had been tossed upon the great ash heap of history and no extra charge for the disappointment.
Fuck.
At least I still had fudge and ice cream to look forward to and to wash the taste of that disappointment out of my mouth and that gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling. I think out of all the food groups, sugar and chocolate are my favorites. Healthy, too. They come from plants, so it's like a salad.
Unfortunately, life is a cunt.
Little Moon and I left Village Books and crossed the street to my car. After we were both buckled in, I checked the time on my phone. Our little jaunt had eaten up all of our allotted time and we wouldn't be able to get any fudge or ice cream.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...
I really wanted to cry, now. The fudge had been all that I had wanted, the ice cream just an added bonus. I had earned that shit, fought for it, paid for it in fucking blood and now I wasn't going to get any? What kind of fucked up shit was that? It was completely unfuckingacceptable and I was going to get my damn fudge, come hell or high water.
I took Little Moon home, dropped her off, kissed the Ginger goodbye and I went to pick up Luke, informing him that we were headed to downtown Bellingham (as opposed to downtown Fairhaven, even though Fairhaven is part of Bellingham). Luke told me he didn't want any fudge, but I didn't really give a fuck what he, or anyone else wanted by this point, because all I wanted was that fucking fudge and I was sure as shit going to get it.
I drove downtown and was lucky enough to score a parking space directly in front of the store. That had to be a good omen, right?
Yeah, sure.
I could see the fudge piled high in the front window, calling to me like a Siren's song. I could practically taste that chocolatey goodness. I drifted closer, closer; the end of my quest in sight. I approached the front door and smashed my head against it like a ship against the rocks. Dazed, I stepped back and had to wait for the world to stop spinning before I was able to see the sign that read 'Closed Today'.
Fuck me. I just love the taste of disappointment.
The gods are cruel and the struggle is real.
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