Turtleface and Beyond by Arthur Bradford Read Free Book Online Page A

on its back really hard and confetti went flying everywhere. I got the impression the bird was supposed to disappear but instead it just stayed in his hand, looking stunned. So Clifford smacked it again, a little harder. This time the dove let out a little squawk! and more confetti flew into the air, but still it didn’t fly away or disappear. I was beginning to feel bad for the bird and you could tell something was wrong because Clifford shook his head and pressed his lips together. Then he just sighed and stuffed the dove into his pocket. His coat pocket! The show went on and I kept waiting for the dove to fly out or at least struggle in there, but it didn’t move. Where did it go? It was amazing!
    Afterward I asked Lenore about this and she said, “It just stayed in his pocket.”
    â€œA dove in his pocket?”
    â€œLook, I don’t know, maybe he killed it.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI’m kidding. I bet he tossed it away when we weren’t looking.”
    I mulled this over but I’m pretty sure Clifford never tossed a bird offstage that night.
    I asked Lenore if she wanted to come back to my place and she said, “No, thanks.”
    â€œMaybe we could just drive around a little?” I suggested.
    â€œWhy would we do that?”
    â€œI don’t know. It’s easier to talk that way, when you are moving.”
    â€œYou can just drive me home,” said Lenore. “We can talk on the way home.”
    Once we’d started driving I said, “Well, Lenore, how did you end up losing that arm?”
    â€œI was in a car accident,” she said. “Actually, it was a van accident. I was eleven years old. We were on a school trip.”
    â€œDid anybody die?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThat’s good.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid they try to sew your arm back on?”
    â€œIt was crushed. The van rolled over onto it.”
    â€œOh. Well, I’m sorry.”
    â€œSorry for what?”
    â€œI’m sorry I didn’t notice it before.”
    â€œI thought you did but you were trying not to mention it.”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t I mention it?”
    â€œMost people pretend they don’t notice it.”
    â€œI wouldn’t pretend something like that.”
    â€œIt’s okay if you did.”
    â€œBut I didn’t.”
    I tried to kiss Lenore good night. She was a very attractive woman. She had these unusual irises that were light gray but had dark edges around them. She wasn’t too interested in kissing me though. I thought about telling her how wonderful her eyes were, but this seemed like something she might have been told before. Another question occurred to me.
    â€œAre your eyes real?” I asked her.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œAre you wearing those colored lenses or something?”
    â€œNo, I’m not.”
    â€œOkay. I was just curious.”
    â€œSure.”
    Our date ended on that uncomfortable accusatory note and I didn’t see Lenore again for quite some time. Occasionally I would have these little fantasies, daydreams involving Lenore and her metal pincer hand. She’d stare at me with those light eyes while we made love and that other, rubber hand would lie on a table next to us, feeling left out of the action.
    *   *   *
    After the winter holidays my neighbor Clifford and I took a job with the city hauling away discarded Christmas trees and feeding them into a large wood chipper. Clifford’s magic show didn’t cover his bills, so he often took these temporary jobs to make up the difference. I did the same thing except I had no magic act to fall back upon.
    On my second day at that Christmas tree job, a thick tree became wedged in the chipper’s intake chute and I made the mistake of pressing my foot against the stump in order to force it through. My pants leg got caught in the in-feed rollers and pulled me into the machine. Luckily Clifford was