Page 113 - TheGoldBug1969-70

page 'IQ contrast spring)970 "Well, shit, if you'd just shut up for a few seconds was to die, and I couldn't write my paper while I was and let me speak, I'll tell you how I came to be sitting dead." here in seat number seventeen of Trailways bus number About a million miles away somebody rejected the Death of six-two-oh-five from Cleveland to Kansas City with stops record on a cheap portable record player. A Herb Alpert in Indianapolis and St. Louis," said Ramon as he reached onto the turntable, the tone-arm sat down album dropped on the 'outer groove and the record started to play. That into the side pocket of his suede jacket. He pulled out a began to play with the balance control, same somebody the ball half-filled pack of menthol cigarettes, removed one from volume, bass and treble and then rejected the record and the package, put the filtered end to his lips and turned to the record player. Martin Wagner who was next to him in the seat by the "I tell you, oh Great Son of Mrs. Wagner-that "But that still doesn't explain how you got on this turret window. lady who makes those great tasting fruit-filled bus," Martin Wagner said after a few moment's reflection fabulous "Say look. We're getting into the out- on Ramon's story. pies-I tell you, by the time you've heard my entire tale, you will feel just like a plate-glass window in a laundro- skirts of East St. Louis. Pretty soon we will be crossing gunner mat." "What does a plate-glass window feel?" asked Martin the Mississippi." Actually, she had no idea where they were because there was a brown curtain pulled in front Wagner. of the window, totally blocking any view of the world Ramon lit his cigarette with a lighter he had taken outside. "So continue," said Martin Wagner as she glanc- from his coat pocket at the same time that he had put ed down at her watch. "We still have fifteen minutes." his pack of cigarettes back in. He took a deep drag, Ramon replied, "I'm not sure that I can stretch the passed the cigarette to Martin Wagner, exhaled and said, story out for another fifteen minutes. But if you give "Clear." me until the day after tomorrow I'll be able to finish it in "Why did you hand me this cigarette?" asked Mar- five. There really isn't very much more to it. Since the tin Wagner. She pushed it back toward Ramon without only time Icould stop being a ball-turret gunner was when actually taking it from his fingers. Ramon let a muted I died and when I was dead I couldn't write my paper, 1 "oh" slip out through a hole in his nearly closed lips. eventually died and dropped out of school. I was stand- He said it more with his lungs than with his vocal chords. ing on this street corner in New York and some news- "You were going to tell me how you got here on, this paper guy drove by in this fancy car with a pretty girl bus, remember?" reminded Martin Wagner. beside him in the front seat and said 'Go west, young Ramon began again, "Well, it all started back about man, go west.' I,had heard from a very reliable source two weeks ago when I began to get tired of being a ball- that there was a serious shortage of trained and experienc- turret gunner. Killing people always had repulsed me, ed jelly rolls in Kansas, so I got together all of last year's but it wasn't until I became a ball-turret gunner and had bullets in a paper sack, dumped them in the East River to shoot at people that it really hit me. So I stopped and headed west. 1 got on this bus for Kansas City, shooting at people with my machine-gun. Oh, I still had which isn't exactly Kansas, but I figured they could use to go up in that old 8-26, but when I was called upon to a few jelly rolls on this side of the Missouri River, too. shoot at people, my gun would mysteriously jam. But the Kansas is right across the river, you know, and if I can't only thing wrong was that I kept getting shot down and find another job as a jelly roll it is supposed to be a great quite often killed." place to get sympathy." "Well, what's wrong with that?" offered Martin "Oh, I remember the last time you were a jelly Wagner. "If you were tired of being a ball-turret gunner, roll," said Martin Wagner. It was easy to see that she that was one way to get out of it." liked what she remembered. by Rowland Hill "Yes, but you see, I wanted to stop being a ball- "It's a hell of a lot more interesting than being a turret gunner because I had a ten-page term paper-due ball-turret gunner all the time and getting shot down and the next afternoon, but when I stopped being a ball- killed and stuff. The only way I can stop being dead is to turret gunner, I was dead; if I was only wounded they become a jelly roll again," said Ramon. "Anyway, that's would patch me up and put me back in the bali-turret; why I'm here on this Trailways bus in seat number seven- the only way I could stop being one of those gunners .. teen on the way to Kansas City. Just then a middle-aged man wearing a dark suit came up to where they were seated. He was wearing this name-tag on t,l)e outside of the breast pocket of his dark suit that read Mr. Farlington" Mr. Farlington appro- ached Martin Wagner and Ramon and said, "Well, are you two looking for a new living room suite? We're hav- ing a special sale on that three-piece sectional over there in the corner." "What do you think, Marge?" Ramon asked of Martin Wagner. "I had grown rather fond of this sofa, we're sitting in right now, except that $249 is a bit expen- sive, don't you agree?" "Yes, I do ... No, I'm sorry Mr. ah, .. Farlington, but we were really just looking, thank you." Martin Wagner and Ramon got up from the sofa and began walk- ing toward the Wisconsin Avenue Exit of the store. "Say Marge, do you remember the last time I was a jelly roll, back there before Thanksgiving? Do you think it would be all right if I became one again? Why don't you let me be one for Christmas? "Why sure," she replied. "Do you really mean that? Do you really mean I can be a jelly roll again? Thanks," said Ramon. "Now I won't have to go to Kansas. And you won't have to be Martin Wagner anymore." "Who is Martin Wagner?" asked Marge. "I don't know. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find out. I though you knew." "It .doesn't matter anymore," she said taking his arm. Together they walked through the revolving door and out onto the sidewalk. Ramon took one last drag from his cigarette and flicked it into the gutter. A whisp of wind caught it and sent it scurrying down the street and through a grate. Just as they got to the other side of Wisconsin Avenue, Grace pulled lip in her car. "Hi, Marge," said Grace. "Who is your friend?" "Grace this is my friend Ramon. I'm going to let him be a jelly roll for Christmas." "How nice," Grace replied. Marge and Ramon got in the car and the three of them drove off up Wiscon- sin Avenue.