Jim and the Flims by Rudy Rucker Read Free Book Online Page A

world. I watched the Santa Cruzans go trucking on by. Bums, students, hipsters, bumpkins, and bossy bohemians—I felt as if I could empathize with each and every one them, as if I could hear bits of the ongoing thoughts in their minds. Or maybe the thoughts were coming from somewhere else. It was almost as if the sprinkles themselves had been full of voices.
    I considered going inside to talk with Weena some more, but now she was busy with other customers. And there was, after all, no huge rush to get to know her better. I came to this ice cream parlor nearly every day. I could flirt more with Weena tomorrow. As if sensing my thoughts, she flashed a warm smile at me through the window-glass and tapped her wrist as if she were wearing a watch. She was miming that she’d see me later.
    As I got to my feet, I thought once more of the blue slug that had taken on the form of a sea lion. Try as I might, I couldn’t push that particular image away. I decided to try getting another look at the dark green Victorian house.
    Droog and I found the same alley we’d followed from the back yard of the house to Cedar Street. But when we walked down this alley, I saw only a vacant lot where the surf punks’ house had been. Wow.
    We picked our way through the empty lot. It was scattered with cans and rags, and overgrown with dried brown weeds. The roots twined around little chunks of rubble from a house that had been bulldozed years before. Thick overgrown eucalyptus trees ringed the property. Had I only imagined the old Vic?
    â€œWhat do you think, Droogie?” I asked, hunkering down beside him in the litter of narrow eucalyptus leaves. “Where’d they go?” I felt close empathy with my old pal. He wanted to lie down in the shade.
    We took the most direct route back to my house and then I vegged out on my dusty Goodwill couch, reading a paperback fantasy novel.
    It was a peaceful summer afternoon, with the sunlight lying across the roof and yard like heavy velvet.
    After awhile I began having the feeling that I could read the pages of the book without actually looking at them. But I was having trouble making sense of what I read. Thinking I needed a nap, I laid down my book and curled up on my side. I dropped off to sleep.
    The next thing I knew, I was lying on the living room floor, very confused. It was dark outside. I felt like I’d been—gone. I ached all over, in every muscle and joint. My tongue was bleeding. Something very bad was happening to me.
    I crawled across the room to where my cell phone sat with my keys. I didn’t trust myself to walk. It took all my concentration to dial 911. And then everything went black again.
    I awoke in a hospital room. It was still night. A nurse was standing over me, a woman with a calm, sympathetic face. She had short dark hair, dyed blonde. Smallish breasts and nice wide hips. It’s funny how, even on his death-bed, a man can still focus on women that way. We’re incorrigible.
    The nurse said I’d had two seizures. They weren’t sure why. The doctors had scanned my brain and it looked normal. Maybe I’d be okay. They had me on an IV drip with painkillers and an anti-seizure drug. I needed to rest.
    I slept fitfully. In the morning I was able to think a little. I could hardly believe I was in the hospital. Yesterday I’d been fine. And then I’d had that odd experience with the abandoned house. Maybe that’s when my brain had started screwing up.
    How disturbing to think that I’d been to death’s door and back. I hadn’t seen any white light or spiral tunnel or dead relatives while I’d been out—none of that cool, trippy stuff. Saddest of all—I hadn’t seen Val. I’d been nowhere and I’d seen nothing. It just felt like I’d had a couple of time-sequences snipped out of my life. Discouraging.
    There was something else disappointing me. No friends. Somehow I’d always imagined