Born Hard Again: Book Three of the Future Remembered Chronicles (20 page)

"Kill it, playa," Koochy said.

I crawled into the row of seats and cuddled up next to TK's body.  It was flush with the heat of accelerated healing activity.

Smiling, because I knew I would soon be reunited with my TK, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***

When I opened my eyes, the skyline of Old Detroit was visible and looming on the horizon.  Unlike Old Cleveland, which had been far more residential, Old Detroit was a sprawling, stretching metropolis.  Stratoscrapers crowded the city, protruding from thick foundational pillars, each the size of entire city block, and reaching high, high up into the atmosphere, as far as the eye could see. 

"We made it," I whispered.

"Oh, hey, Preston!  Welcome back!" Alphonso warmly greeted me.

"Hey, Alphonso.  Where's... where's Koochy?"  After a further second I realized I was alone on the bench of seats.  "Wait, where's TK?"

"Oh, they're out back with Aoas and the crew," he nodded to his right.

"What?"  I asked, bewildered.  TK had recovered to the point of walking?  And she had gone out with Koochy?

"Yeah, they usually hang out with those guys in the mornings," he said, matter-of-factly.

His word choice seemed peculiar to me.

"What do you mean,
usually
?" I inquired.  "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Oh, dude.  It's been days.  Three days?  Maybe four?" he shrugged.

"What?!  Are you fucking serious right now?" I demanded.

"Yeah, sorry, Preston.  I figured you knew," he grimaced.

"How...
how
would I know?" I marveled at his stupidity.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Argh!" I said in frustration.

The door to the ship was hanging lazily open and we were still moving at the speed of a normal human walking pace.  I stuck my head outside and looked behind us.  A dark mob comprised of thousands of my followers staggered after us, clearly exhausted and malnourished.  In the few seconds I watched, I saw two people expire and fall beneath the feet of their companions as they were crushed into red slush.

This had been going on for days now?  We should have reached Old Detroit by now.  It hadn't been that far away from Old Cleveland.  Where the hell were we after days of marching?

I hopped out of the steadily moving GMS-KJH86.  Aoas and his posse were right where I had seen them last: about a hundred feet behind our low-flying ship, leading the rest of my throng.  My heart stopped momentarily when I first caught sight of TK.  My love!  My mother!  Mother of my lost children.

TK was fully recovered and gorgeous.  She had changed her hair; now it was short and bright.  Otherwise, she looked just as I remembered her.  Her voluptuous body undulated rhythmically back and forth as she pranced around Aoas' hovering sarcophagus.

She was dancing!

Then, I saw Koochy, who I noticed was also dancing.  He was far less fun to watch though, so I turned my attention back to the seductive TK.  What the hell was going on here?

"TK!"  I called out.  "Marcus!  What the hell is going on here?" I demanded.

TK froze when she heard me.  An enormous smile grew to cover her face.

"Preston Chesticles!" she gasped, enrapt.  "Oh, my sweet, sweet Chesticles!"

I broke into a full speed run towards her.  She did the same.  The world seemed to swell in anticipation of our meeting.  Our flesh smashed into each other and our lips were reunited.  We smooched passionately for what felt like minutes.  It felt wonderful to hold TK in my arms; all of them. 

"Eeeeeekk!" TK recoiled when she noticed Bronson, who for some reason had maneuvered his head to her eye level.

"
Bronnnsssssonnnn,
" Bronson hissed, frighteningly.

"Oh my god, Preston!  What is that.. thing?" she pressed herself deeper into my other two arms.  She didn't realize Bronson was also one of my arms.

"Shhh, TK, shhh.  It's okay, baby.  Calm down.  I've got you.  Don't worry.  Don't worry about anything," I petted her head.

"What?  What do you mean?  You aren't freaked the fuck out by that... penis thing?  What am I missing?"  TK was smart and got to the point.

"Oh, uh.  Well, baby.  Let me introduce you to Bronson," was apparently the best response I could muster.  TK still looked severely confused.  I continued, "He was kind of like, grafted to my body as part of my recovery process." I pointed to the place on my side where Bronson and I were conjoined.

"EeeeeeeEEEEEHHHKKKK!" she shrieked even louder at this revelation.

"Jeez, chill, baby!  Bronson is cool, baby," I comforted her.

After another few lungfuls of screaming, TK calmed herself.

"Well, Preston, baby...
that
is going to take some getting used to," she regarded Bronson uneasily.

I smiled. 

"I thought you would
like
it, baby," I cooed in her left ear while Bronson sneaked up and kissed her right ear.

"Ewww!  No!  Gross!" she slapped Bronson away.  "Keep that dickhead away from me!"

"Hey, you have to accept me for who I am!" I protested.  "I...I love me.  I love Bronson.  I think my body is beautiful."

"Honey, you are tripping," TK cocked her head to the side and stepped out of my grasp.  "I love you, but that dick arm thing has got to go!"

"Hmph!" I sulked as I nursed Bronson.  I had waited forever to see TK and within minutes of being reunited we were bickering.  I guess this was life when you were in love with your mother.

"Let's talk about it later," she told me.  Then she laughed as she grabbed one of my natural arms and pulled me towards the group.  "Koochy, look who woke up!"

"Ay, P!" Koochy nodded at me.  "What up den, sleepy Jean?  You believin' dis daydream yet?"

"Ugh!  You guys let me sleep for days?!" I was outraged.

"Ay, cool it, killa," he showed me his palms.  "We ain't
let
you do shit.  Couldn't
no
body wake yo ass up.  Dat's how we got all dem sick ass videos we be tweetin' an' shit!  Dat shit was humiliatin', yo!  Unnnghh!"

I shook my head.

"What the hell, Koochy?" I fumed at his inconsiderateness. "Did those videos make it on the blews?  I'm going to call down some holy hell on you, man."

"Chill, kid!  I'm jes fuckin' wit' ya.  We good!" Koochy laughed.

"Arrgh!  Koochy, you're killin' me!" I lamented.  "What are you guys doing, anyway?"

"Sideshow, son!" Koochy had not stopped dancing throughout our conversation.  "Turns out, Aoas be rockin' dem sick ass beats, son!  Get turnt, bitches!  Ow!  Watch me now!"

I opened my mouth to scold him, but stopped myself.  Why the hell not?  I was always in too much of a hurry to enjoy the journey, even as a demigod.  Instead of verbally attacking my friends, I shut up and let my body move with the music.  It was a raw and unrefined street beat that was thudding out of Aoas' floating encasement, from large speakers I couldn't see.  I stretched my arms to the sky and let my hips wiggle back and forth as I joined TK and Marcus in celebration.

The song ended.  We came together panting and smiling.  It had felt so satisfying to move after such a long period of rest!

"That was fun.  So fun!" TK's melodic voice was such a joy to experience again.

We enjoyed another kiss.

"It's so good to see you again, baby," I told her between affections.

Aoas said something in Russian that none of us could understand.  Koochy produced a compute-pad and held it up to Aoas.

"Is this Cleveland Jesus' concubine?" Aoas asked with the help of the translation app.

I choked on my laughter.

"Excuse me!  I'm his
lover!
"  TK shouted, angrily.  "
And
his mother!" she added.

"You are the mother of God?" Aoas' lip began trembling again. 

"Look, let's not make this complicated," I interjected.

"Oh, so I make it 'complicated'?  Is that what you're trying to say, Preston?" TK barked at me.

"Jeez, TK," I drew back.  Was it her time of the month?  Why was she so volatile?  "Take it easy.  No, that's clearly not what I meant.

"Ahem," I cleared my most holy throat.  "Concern yourselves not with this woman.  She is my dearest companion.  Do not question her position within the church of Cleveland Jesus!"

"Yes, of course, my lord," Aoas looked embarrassed.

"Ay, P!  Quit clownin' and look," he motioned to the city we were approaching.

"Where are we, Koochy?  That's not Old Detroit."

He shook his head vigorously.

"No lie, kid.  Dis here road you done carved didn't go to no Old Detroit.  Best as I can figure, we lookin' at New London ova dere.  I ain't sho' doh.  Been havin' a hard time gettin' good coverage out here for the last couple of days.  Damn!" he offered his excuses.

"Uh, guys!  Hey, guys!" Alphonso's voice came over Koochy's compute-pad. 

"Here, pass me the compute-pad," I called to Marcus.  He handed it over.

"Guys?  This is your Vice Admiral, Alphonso Roy speaking," Alphonso prattled on unnecessarily.

"What?" I demanded.  "Just spit it out already!"

His face appeared on the compute-pad now too in a video stream.  He looked really concerned, overwhelmingly so to the point of incapacitation.

"Ahh!  I don't need to see your face!" I argued.

"Mu'fucka, yo' dumb pie hole look like yous 'bout to fart, nah, like yo' been shittin' yer pants all week an' you jus' sittin' innit," Koochy added.

"Come quick!  Look out the window here!" Alphonso sputtered.

TK looked at me from the side of her eyes, still not facing me directly.  Was she really still mad over being called just a complication?  It's not like I said "it's complicated" for our relationship status.  Actually I hadn't even updated my relationship status.  Maybe that was the problem?

"TK, look, I'll be right back.  We'll sort this out later," I implored.  She tossed her hair with a '
hmpf
' and looked at her nails.

I followed Koochy up to the cockpit.

"Whatchu want anyways?" Marcus prompted, then he saw what Alphonso had seen.

Ahead of us was the skyline of New London.  Now that we were closer, it was clear that this was no ordinary metropolis of seven-hundred-story stratoscrapers, like Old Detroit was.  This was a much more European city, one with a lot of culture.  I could tell because all the towering high-rises were topped with old monuments to the pre-Good-Man, even pre-Obama styles of architecture.

Every skyscraper was adorned with clusters of Big Ben replicas, or had life-size Tower Bridge reproductions appended to the side, or had a carbon copy of Westminster Abbey or a facsimile of Buckingham Palace atop its flying buttresses.  Now that I could truly perceive the refined and dignified nature of this glorious, revitalized city, I felt ashamed that I could have mistaken it for Old Detroit.

One of the megatowers was emblazoned "TACO BELL" in hundred-story-tall letters, and on top of each letter was a huge plastic cup of tea, ascot, or red telephone booth.  We were truly in a foreign land now.  Each of these traditional symbols was imbued with deep meaning and I longed to become part of this vibrant culture.

However this beautiful historic scene was not what Alphonso had raised the alarm about.

Our unruly band had apparently traveled up the river Thames.  Indeed I'd split the seas completely from lake Erie to here, ripping the island nation apart at its asshole.  And from that tear in the local geography had come a lot of displaced and angry residents.

Leading the charge against us was a group of men in uniforms.

"Oh sheeit!" Koochy warned.  "Ay yo, you know how we done busted up those honky-ass Pontius Grizwald muthafuckas?  Popped a cap in dey asses, like BLAOW, BLAOW!  Unngh!  Damn, son.  Dey got Ronnie.  Pour one out fo' my homie.  Ronnie, muh mane mane, dis fo' yuh!  I'mma still skeet on yo' girl, fo' you, Ronnie!  Fo' you, son!"

"Yes, Koochy, I remember," I prodded him along.

"Yo, so like, dem honkies be all church an' NFL and tha KKK up in dat, right?" Koochy continued.  I turned to see if TK had come running at his mention of the KKK but she didn't appear.

"Right, I remember," I said.

"Well, dis shit be in Europe now, mane.  And I ain't talkin' 'bout no Europa, but old skool Europe!"

"Yeah?  Get to the point, Koochy," I urged.  "They look angry!"

"Well o'er hurr dey ain't got no NFLs.  Dey thank 'football' means soccer!  Whafuck is soccer, anyway?  So when ol' Good Man banned football and KKK and popes 'n shit, right hurr dem soccer and Nazis and gypsy-ass fools got banned!  They goan formed up sum damn 'nutha group, on da down low!  Dat damn partin'-da-seas like yo' mamma's legs thang you done, shit fucked up they damn home base, fo' rea' doe."