Super Born: Seduction of Being by kkornell Read Free Book Online

miss it,” Sarah said, leading into
the commercial.
    I couldn’t believe they had missed it. They
didn’t believe a word Ed said, just because he was an RFD. But Ed
had all the information I needed. Didn’t anyone else hear him say
“she”—“She dropped the truck?”
    I pounded the Internet in search of any more
information on the event. No one seemed to know how the truck came
to be in the middle of the street. As the only witnesses were young
men from Scranton, no one took them serious. It looked like Ed and
I had a date with destiny coming up; not that I believed in Ed so
much as I believed in my eye flashing beauty.
    Wait a minute. Breathing is
dangerous? I gotta see that.
    * * *
    That night to get into O’Malleys, I had to
circle around disgruntled unionized city workers who toiled under
work lamps to repair the damage from the previous night’s beer
truck landing on Penn Avenue. It took two of them to do the work
and another five to adequately convey their annoyance at being
called in for double-overtime work, forced to drink coffee, eat
donuts, and scratch their butts for hours. Somehow they
managed.
    I returned to O’Malley’s with a
sense of anticipation. Primarily, I was there to meet Ed, but I
prepared myself, just in case she was there. This time, I vowed not to let the SSS
effect keep me from speaking with her. The anticipation was like
being six and coming downstairs on Christmas morning, hoping to
find that toy you’d wanted all year.
    But she wasn’t there. Instead of finding that
special toy, it was like the year I found Uncle Ernie drunk under
the tree—only this time it was the grizzled ol’ barkeep I found. I
turned my attention to him as he stood at a table nearby. When he
recognized me, I saw his eyes go wide, and he quickly reached over
and grabbed up a tip that lay on a table beside him.
    I walked up to him. “How are things tonight, my
man?”
    “ It’s been a horrible night trying
to keep up with all these assholes…” he said, as the sounds of
rifle shots rang out from the back room followed by shuffling feet.
“And now you’re just the cherry on my steaming pile of shit,” he
said, shaking his head. “What can I do for you? Not thinkin’ of
buyin’ a wee drink, are ya?”
    “ Have you seen Ed here tonight?” I
asked.
    The old man stroked his chin for a moment.
“Well now, it seems to me that I ain’t served you a drink yet, and
this here is what you call a bar, not an information
booth.”
    “ Got ya,” I said feeling in my
pocket for any signs of money.
    I pulled out my last rumpled twenty and said,
“Well, bartender, I’d like two beers, one for me and one for my
friend Ed. Is he here?”
    The barkeep took the money, returned with two
bottles of beer, but no change, and pointed. “He’s around back…but
if you wants to talk with ’im, I suggest you do it quick like. He’s
next up wearing the antlers. That’ll be 'im putting them antlers on
right now,” he said, pointing.
    I wasn’t sure why two beers cost $20. Either
the barkeep was a greedy old soul or he was trying to make up for
the drinks Jones and I had not bought the night before…maybe both.
In the back of my mind I debated whether to sell a kidney or try
male prostitution as a way to pay for dinner. But I needed to talk
with Ed, so I let the barkeep keep the change.
    I slid into the back room with all the cool I
could muster. Remembering his pimply face and thin body, I
recognized Ed in the crowd of RFDs preparing for the Antler Game,
some having trouble figuring out how to put on the leather helmets
with the antlers attached. One had his over his face—despite the
obvious problem breathing, it was a good look for him. I marched up
behind Ed and tapped him on the left shoulder. He looked back
around over his right, but then eventually found me. “Hey, aren’t
you the guy from the news report this morning?” I asked.
    Ed shyly nodded.
    Beside us, Ed’s friend, Ken,was fumbling,
trying to