Iâm sick of garbage after so long. She sick of it too, telling people what I do, even with all the money I once make, so stop concerning yourself for me and see them and agree to the first offer they say to take your garbage from now on.â
âAll they want is two thousand and now probably more.â
âPay it. Then they come around nice-like for your garbage, and thatâs the price you pay for not calling me before besides being so nice and for first saying to them no.â
âI donât have two thousand to spare.â
âHave it, find it, spare it, please.â
âThat much? No way. They either have to collect my garbage for the fifteen to twenty-five extra dollars a month or run me out. I canât get a loan, not that Iâd try, so I have no choice.â
âThen start running, I think, but I pray maybe youâre right and you win after all.â
âShaney,â a customer says coming in, âyou wonât believe it, I just got laid off, so youâll have to start me a new IOU tab with a double shot of rye.â
âNow I got to go,â George says, âand say goodbye last time in our lives for a while perhaps, for I donât want Stovinâs people see me here and think I advising you to oppose. Thanks for the bad brandy,â and he drinks up, kisses my hands, pats my customerâs back and goes.
I phone Stovinâs and say âJenny, donât hang up, this is Shaney Fleet again. Iâm sorry for the unease I mightâve caused you the other day with my being rude, but could you please tell your boss or Turner or Pete if theyâre thereââ
âI already told you.â
âThen just Mr. Stovin or son or the accountant who might know of me or any salesman that Iâm ready to give in, this isnât a trick, and Iâd like your company to start carting for me.â
âFor whatever itâs worth, Mr. Fleet, Iâll pass it on.â
âYouâre a doll.â
Next day while Iâm tapping a keg in the basement cooler right under the bar a customer shouts out âShaney, a paper just flew through the mail chuteâwant me to pick it up?â
I run for the stairs, then down the two steps I got up, as the rod in the keg could explode the way I left it halfway in and the beer ready to spout, and finish tapping it and run upstairs and around the bar to the outside. Policeman on the beat, police car cruising the street, a group of kids tossing around iceballs and making noise as they walk home from the nearby parochial school, overhead pretty close a seaplane, faraway the barking at the same time of fierce dogs, around me snowflakes. I pick up the envelope and read the note inside. âOur answer,â it says in letters painstakingly penciled and filled in from an alphabet stencil, âis same place last chance $2500 now go to bank dont for a moment phone or delay.â
I take one of my pickled eggs, mix lots of garlic cloves from the jar with it, chop them up and under the counter stick them in the note envelope and spit a goodsized wad into it and tell the two customers âIâll be right back, get another beer free if you want but donât let a soul in even if they knock.â I stick a little billy in my back pocket just in case and go outside, lock the door and go to the bank and write on the back of a withdrawal slip â2500 death germs I hope you get from my spit, you bastards, and may the garlic not be enough to ward them off, donât ask me what good or symbol to you is my putrid egg,â and put that in the envelope on top of about twenty blank withdrawal slips and seal it up, get on line and when itâs my turn I go to the teller and put the envelope on the counter between us and just as he grabs and brings it down to him I say âExcuse me, I forgot something, just a second,â and rifle through my coat pockets. âDamn, I mustâve left it in
Twelve Steps Toward Political Revelation