Further Adventures (39 page)

“Not if you don’t want to.” Which gave me a brave feeling to tell her this. It encouraged me I am not in the wrong.

“Yes I do.” Dolores slumped back & kicked her feet up on the upholstery. “I have to get my purse.”

I did not slow down or turn around I put on the gas. I told Dolores to lie down until we got out past the City Limits of Santa Fe.
I will buy her a brand new pink purse
I pledged—& 100 Silver Dollars & a dozen lucky Fossils & start everything from the beginning with her.

JUSTICE is in my hand once & for all! I can make her Life better all around especially in Education. Teach her Geology how she can read the Story of the Earth from layers of dirt. The Painted Desert is a good place for that lesson. And teach her about Charles Darwin and how Human Beings evolved from Africa. The Big Bang & the Law of Gravity & E = MC
²
etc. as much as I can explain about the Galaxies and other wonders of Nature. Play her my records of Jack Benny also Burns & Allen also Duke Ellington & other great bandleaders for instance Artie Shaw. Read to her from the works of the great William Shakespeare. Also teach her World Events before she was born. About Life on the East Coast & what was doing with me in Philadelphia when I was her age leading up to when I went to New York City. Mainly about my days on the Radio.

“I’ll show you what the Green Ray looks like in California. It’s out of this world,” I said & twisted around to look over the back of the seat. The sight which met my eyes made me lose my grip & swerve almost off the road—Dolores already stripped her uniform off & she threw out her skirt & her jacket before I hit the right button & put up her window.

So she moves over to the other side & throws out her stiff shirt & her shoes & socks laughing her head off with all the windows going
up & down because I can not locate the correct buttons & stay a jump ahead of her. My little Angel is perched on the armrest in the middle of the backseat in her undershirt & white tights informing me we just went by a A&W Root Beer Stand also how she needs to go wee-wee.

“Can you hold it a little while?” She nods yes she can. “Good girl,” I congratulate her & I concentrate on my driving so I do not run a red light or go over the Speed Limit.

I consider what Dolores did was a normal shenanigan for a 8 year old girl ergo this is not a case for Discipline. A decent Father has to make 100 decisions a day like that for the Good of his Child he should be present at all times so he can judge what is correct. He has to be in sympathy. I do not defend my mistakes over her but when you add it all up you will come to the fair Conclusion that I would be a better Father for her than John Newberry.

Diet is the main thing to consider when it comes to a growing Child. In spite of the beautiful adobe buildings I doubt if the meals at Mount Holyoak are very nutritious. Going by the boiled smells of the Cafeteria I would say they rely too much on corn & carrots. So I was only going to stop over at Pecan St. to pick up a few necessities & make a hot dinner for us. I bought the best chicken plus fresh vegetables & applesauce my favorite dish. I believe the market I went to was a Safeway or Food King. One of those or a Garden Basket in Las Cruces I believe cash register Number 11. I plead with you go & find the checkout girl she will vouch for how beautiful Dolores acted with me & vice versa. That Japanese girl helped me pick out a cute T-shirt with a goofy bumblebee on it for Dolores to wear. This time I regret nobody from the F.B.I. was following me around taking pictures I could show you how happy we were together.

I walked in the front door of my apartment & I got a welcome from the ripe smell of dirty laundry from the hamper in the bedroom. It clung on the stuffy Atmosphere as heavy as fog you know what it did not smell terrible it was my own Aroma there. Look how a person’s home is enshrined in his memory down to every Molecule even if he rents!

Dolores did not follow me in on my heels she stood next to the door when I went in the kitchen nor she would not budge further. She waited for permission on the border of my domain. The way Newberry trained her. So I invited her very gentle by her hand & shut the door behind us.

“You want to go to the bathroom sweetheart?” I showed her where & she made me leave the door open then I left her alone so I could get the chicken started.

On my way I slid the chain on the front door
This is my place & the rest of the World is outside
. Except this is a false way to think. It is only a thin door separating. The air seeps in & my aroma leaks out so to say Troubles will enter likewise I believe. They follow a person they come in at the same time. You can forget about what is done & what is doing but you can not get protection from the rest of the World.

Dolores found me up to my elbows washing the chicken in the sink. “No more toilet tissue,” she planted her feet & made this announcement.

“You used up the end of it or you didn’t have any?”

“Didn’t have any.”

“Did you go Number 1 or Number 2?”

“Number 1.”

“Tell me if you need to do the other. I’ll go borrow a roll from next door. Wash your hands?” She nodded she did. “Let me see.”

She held them up I should inspect them & wipe them dry with a dish towel. “I don’t like chicken,” she said.

“You’ll like it the way I cook it,” I guaranteed her. “Let’s go in the living room a minute.”

“Can I watch T.V. until the news is on?”

I fished out the
National Geographic
with the Children of Every Continent pictures Dolores could enjoy to herself. “I need to rest a little in my chair. Let’s keep things quiet O.K. dear? No T.V. right now.”

I dropped the Venetians so nobody could spot I was back in temporary residence & I landed in the warm seat of my green leather armchair. It fits every bulge & lump of my Physique I forgot it is so comfortable to sit there it is the lap of a lovable giant. I forgot I was so pooped from head to toe. So much I hardly moved a single aching muscle I just sat there staring at the dust Particles that shook out of the slats of the blinds I watched them dance & float & drift in the layers of pale sunlight.

“Look Uncle Ray,” Dolores spoke up she was pointing at the window.

A sharp scare stabbed me in the stomach when I looked over & then it faded fast—Newberry is not going to climb up a ladder & break in by the window! He is not going to dangle down on a elastic rope from the roof! I went back to touching the smooth brown patches on the arms of my chair where my palms wore off the color for 50 Years.

“Why does it do that?”

She meant the sparkling dust in the Air. Even if you are too pooped to pop you should give your Child sincere Attention & answer every question. “They reflect the light. See? “I patted the upholstery & another spray of dust spread out from it. “They’re practically microscopic those little particles.”

Dolores watched so close I think she was trying to pick out a lonely speck of that dust & follow its movements. She held her hand up in the stripes of light coming in over the sofa. “Those are sunbeams,” she said 100% sure of this Scientific Fact.

“I’ll tell you something interesting,” I said. “Here’s an unbelievable thing. It takes 8 Minutes for each sunbeam to reach here. It has to go 93 Million Miles from the surface of the Sun to the surface of the Earth.” It is another thing to get a Child to give you sincere attention the same
especially if they have dust particles to look at. “They reflect the sunlight,” I tried again. “That’s what happens with the moon. Moonlight is really from the Sun reflecting down.”

“Oh.”

I think she did not appreciate the information as much as she was enjoying the Ballet of the Dancing Dust. She slapped the cushions to bring out some more & a thin cloud puffed around her. Rembrandt van Rijn could paint a Masterpiece if he saw Dolores in that moment.

A sneeze squeaked out of her which swirled the dots of dust into crazy orbits & this Effect made her laugh very strenuous. I believe Atomic Particles travel in similar curves. Those Quarks for instance. I wonder if household dust is where Scientists got the inspiration. Who am I to command Dolores what to appreciate? Let her enjoy Beauty where she finds it—

So I joined in on her level I patted out some more which floated around through the shadows again now you see them now you lose them. “You can see where the light is,” I demonstrated to her. But I did not ruin her fun & tell her how dust does not defy Gravity forever it settles down on the T.V. tray & on my hi-fi eventually so somebody has to wipe it with a damp rag. Nor I avoided the specifics what they are those Particles—dead skin cells flakes of bodily dirt & hairs wings of insects & living mites etc. which look revolting if you look at them close.

Dolores played the cushions like a tom-tom & the dust swarmed all over in the Air. She breathed it in & coughed it out & she was laughing Hysterical. Even when it turned into more coughing than laughing we kept on drumming my sofa to the Jungle Beat. In this time it only sounded like a tickle caught in there a dry cough a little feather in the back of her throat.

I got her a cup of water from the Sparkletts but she was hacking too hard to swallow it. She choked out a few words which cut into me like a buzz saw. “I need my medicine.” Her mouth popped open then she
tried to drag in a Breath & said it again very frightened. “I need my medicine!”

“Oh Jesus Christ. Oh honey.” I heard her lungs whistling & in 5 more seconds Dolores’s face was hot & red. And the most terrible pain I felt was her fingers pinching my arm so hard to get me to help her. I would breathe for her if I could I would sweat Asthma Medicine out of my skin!

By my memory this is when the choking started very bad when it sounded like both of her lungs trying to squeeze through her mouth to reach some air. She folded up on the floor kicking her feet in every wild direction. I watched a Tantrum of pain & panic a wounded animal trapped in a net nor I was not strong enough to rip her free. When I reached to hug her she pushed me away but that was her Body taking over for itself Dolores did not realize what she was doing anymore only fighting for her breath.

“No!” I shook her shoulders & laid her down straight & remembered step by step the Kiss Of Life. I pushed my mouth over hers & blew my breath in her still she lay there limp. I tried again but her lips did not stay open they got very slippery from the Mucus of her nose & tears so I did not have a airtight grip & when I blew my breath again by some Convulsion she bit me very hard & cut my tongue open. This is the explanation of Blood on her face & on my shirt.

I did not waste a minute & wait for a Ambulance I picked Dolores up & ran with her in my arms. Jesse Owens could not run faster to Dr. Godfrey.

“Help me!” I broke in on him.

The shocking sight of us did not slow him down he put Dolores right away on the table with a Oxygen mask she was in the best of hands. He worked on her to his utmost he gave Dolores the highest care. What counts in a medical crisis is know-how not worry & tears so I was outside the examination room when I heard him tell Nurse Peterson, “They don’t have to hurry. Tell Memorial there’s no emergency.”

It is my honor to state Dr. Godfrey is a friend of mine above & beyond the fact he is my doctor. He did not pepper me with questions about Who? What? When? Where? How? or Why? He accepted my short version of Events. Dolores was in my care for a few days. She was in Mount Holyoak. She used to live with her Mama in Mexico. Hereby I urge whoever is in charge of the Investigation please you should give Dr. Godfrey a copy of this note he deserves to hear the whole Story. Thank You.

From where I sat it looked like every nerve in Dr. Godfrey’s face was straining under his skin from the emotion of it. He said, “Some strange things have been going on around here lately. Are you all right Ray?”

“Yes. No. Not really.”

“Maybe you missed all the hoo-hah. It’s funny—” He stopped he broke off looking at me. “That young girl who was in the newspaper. Incredible story. I didn’t believe it happened. Not like they reported it.”

“I know who you mean.”

“You were around for that. Ray—”

I hoisted myself out of the chair but a icy spiderweb of pain caught my chest & I dropped back down. “Is it cold in here?”

“You feel sick to your stomach?” His hand on my forehead.

“No…Am I going to?”

He unbuttoned my shirt he pulled up my undershirt & shook his head very grim over the view. All of my bruises my souvenirs my black & blue splotches my cuts my raw red scabs my sagging body so beaten & finished. “Where have you been?”

“I don’t know.”

“I read something interesting in the A.M.A. journal about Chinamen last week. They pay their doctors when they feel healthy and they stop paying when they get sick. What do you think Ray? Think that kind of arrangement could ever catch on in this country?”

I admit I stopped concentrating on Chinamen before he got to the
end of the sentence my mind already slipped off to another subject. “Maybe you can tell me something. But if you can’t then don’t make up a nice answer so I feel better all right?”

“Ask me.”

“Is there any proof what a soul is?”

“Depends what you mean.”

“Did any doctors or scientists ever do research to find out if it’s real? Maybe you ran across some article about it in a specialist publication. If any brain surgeon might have discovered a shred of evidence the general public hasn’t heard about yet.”

“Nothing like that. I don’t keep up on all the literature though.”

“I just wondered.”

“There was somebody in Europe I think about 15 Years ago,” he said. “A neurologist in Sweden who was doing some interesting work on consciousness.”

“That’s it. Brain waves. Mental energy. That makes sense.” He let me talk. “It fits in perfect with my theory. There’s electricity in every brain cell. Every thought is a spark of electricity.”

“A small one. You’d get a bigger charge from a nylon carpet.”

“And you can’t destroy electricity. So therefore—”

“A little electric eel swimming in the Amazon generates more voltage catching a bug for lunch than Mozart’s brain did when he wrote
Don Giovanni
.”