For a world gone a bit batty on the subject of “it’s all about me”, “look what they did to me” and “the other guy is wrong” here’s a twist- how about being interested in the other guy? With this in mind, I bring you Extroverted T-Shirts. I hope you enjoy:

Wow! You’re really Beautiful!

You look great today!

Thanks for noticing me. :)

I Admire you.

It’s nice to know there’s people like you in the world.

You remind me a lot of God.

Why didn’t they elect you for President?

There’s no one like you.

You’re special. Yep, I noticed.

If they don’t listen to you, then who will they listen to?

Proud to be seen with you.

I see you and know the world is good.

Thanks for making it go right today.

I appreciate you.

You’re the real winner.

I like you being there.

You’re so able.

I finally found my inspiration.

You’re really cool.

Very pleased to meet you.

You’re the best!

It was 6:30 in the morning and I had already been up since sunlight first began dusting away the darkness. Patiently, I waited, beautifying myself, until he was woken by the soft light rays filtering through the blinds. Teasingly, I expedited light’s entrance by playfully tugging on the cord just enough to crack the blinds and gradually wake him. I kissed him now and then. He loved me so much, I knew he didn’t really mind, although sometimes he’d toss a pillow at me, all in fun, of course.

He was the kindest man I ever met. I really don’t recall our first meeting. To me, it seemed we had been together forever. He always remarked how beautiful I was and uttered only kind words to me, even when he was deeply upset. Once, he had gotten fired from a job. I don’t think he liked the job, but the firing truly upset him. At the time I selfishly protested as he always smelled when he came home. A sort of mix of silt and ash. Refinery work. Dreadful. Money was never a concern for me so secretly, I was delighted he was home more, and I always hated that smell of ash on his clothes. In fact, I didn’t care much for fire. The very thought of him working around it - shudders. Perhaps it’s true what is one’s tragedy is another’s fortune. Sadly, though, he was miserable that day. This I understood. Soothingly, I was there to listen and took in what he said, and loved on him. He quieted, I cuddled next to him and, well, that was a beautiful moment.

This morning he woke gradually, and greeted me lovingly. I kissed him. He was always so kind and I loved him for it. So service oriented too. A real man. He always insisted on preparing my breakfast. This morning was no different. I waited for him to get done in the restroom, lingering in front of the mirror getting my appearance just right, and we then went into the kitchen together. Over breakfast, I couldn’t help but stare at him lovingly as he ate.

“Hello, beautiful,” he reached out to me. When he touched me it was always so magical, it gave me chills. I couldn’t ask for a better man.

“Yes, my love.”

“I have a special someone for you to meet tonight. It’s Friday, so I’ll be home a little bit earlier and I figure we’ll have a nice dinner together and maybe watch a movie. We’re just getting to know each other but, I think you’ll like her.”

I was distracted by the fact that he was playing with my ear and caressing my face. But, then he got up from the table and it sunk in.

“Her? What do you mean by her? Just getting to know her? Who is this her?”

“I’ve got to go Beautiful. See you tonight.”

And with that he left.

How dare he! Like hell, I was going to do the dishes. What did he think this was? Maybe he means she’s elderly and a motherly type? No. No. He said they are “getting to know each other”, THAT can only mean one thing. I could not be more furious. I paced. What else was I to do? I mean I could leave. But then I’ll never meet this “her”. Maybe I’m overreacting. I started to fiddle with my nails. Yes, that’s better, I must be overreacting. Surely, he doesn’t have another lady in his life. But what if? Oh I couldn’t think the thought.

Had I been too quiet? After all our time together. Was I just being used? Oh, this was fretful. The house was a mess too. I started to try and neaten up the couch but, why? Why do anything? If he really had another lady, I guess I..I..I don’t know what I’ll do. Clearly my wits were not up to this. I paced some more. What to do. Do I just up and leave? I don’t know how to reach him. I’ve always blindly trusted him. I knew I should go with him to work. I knew it. I do remember trying. No, no, he insisted I stay home and wait for him to return. Be his Princess. He told me how much he loved me and begged me to cooperate. Who was I to question him. His eyes. So lovely. He was such a kind man. But now this! Her! He has another lady. He must! Clearly, he announced it. Like everything else, I’d just take it in stride. I was hopping mad.

Crash!

Startled I jumped the hell out of the way and out of the room. I realized I had to calm down. I was shaking. Never had I been so disturbed. After a bit, I looked back into the living room. The lamp. In my distress I had knocked over the lamp and the bulb burst. Well, he deserved it. And NO, I was not going to clean that up!

I spent the rest of the day fretting. I tried to nap. There was a side of me intensely curious. What did she look like? Was she one of these girls that smelled from across the room? Does he love her like me? Was she just a librarian friend over for a good read? No, he said, “movie” so clearly not. Could she even read at all?

Suddenly, the rattle of keys at the door. I looked at the clock, 3:30, he was indeed early. I couldn’t resist getting up to greet him. I should be fair, maybe he would explain more. Be patient. Be loving. Give it time. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding. I mean he was caressing me at the time.

“Hello, Beautiful. So good to see you.”

I couldn’t help but show him I loved him. I hugged him before he could fully get in the door.

“Yes, I love you too. Ok, let me come in here.”

“Well,” I said, waiting for him to explain.

“Well, well, well,” he said, “it’s going to be a great night. She said she’d be here at five so I’ve got a little time to neaten things up. You are going to like her.”

I was appalled. Really? Then before I could speak, he noticed the lamp.

“Hey, what’s this? I leave you and you do this? Are you jealous or something? Not enough attention? What’s with breaking up the place? One more thing to handle before she comes. I don’t want her to think badly of you.”

“Really!?” I didn’t want to talk. He went for the vacuum and that was too much. I just left and went and lay down in the guest room. If he cares he’ll come see me, otherwise, to hell with it.

I waited for over an hour. Finally, he stood in the doorway. I held back tears. He walked over reaching out to me.

“What is up with you? You seem upset. Look, tonight is going to be very nice for both of us. I know it might take some getting used to but, I think she’s a good girl and you’re going to like her. I plan to take it slow, but feel free to join in. You are my beautiful misses, you know.”

I ignored him. That’s all I could do. Ignore. It’s a statement. You have to make a statement now and then. Say what you want, but it is repulsive if you think I want any part of your lurid plans. Ignore. He kissed my head. After tormenting me with words, he had the nerve to kiss my head!

He left to make dinner. Normally, I’d come join him and rub up close behind him and... NOT tonight. Definitely not!

The door bell rang. It was “her”. She had a lilting voice as she entered. I got up and stood in the shadows and peered around the door stealth-like. She was taller than I expected. He seemed a different person. His kindness was there, he took her coat and purse, but he communicated a lot more. They both did. Back and forth. When she spoke he really gave her his full attention. Oftentimes, I felt he was just shining me on. She was so different than me, but a lady all the same. Surprisingly, she didn’t smell badly at all. The fragrance seemed to welcome itself in my nostrils. Perhaps she wasn’t as evil as I thought.

No, it was him. He brought her here. How could he be so insensitive. Leaving me alone all day and then inviting her here. This was our place. She could be a victim as well.

They spent time in the kitchen making dinner together. I just watched. Clearly he had a new love now. That was obvious. I felt a turning in my stomach. Things had changed. He laughed with her. He seldom did with me. As much as it bewildered me and made me question everything about myself and our relationship, I couldn’t help but see he was truly delighted to be entertaining her. For so many years I loved this man, nursed him through his roughest times and never had I seen him so happy as I was observing. What would this mean for me? What now? Is this how our relationship goes. Will it be three instead of two? Share a man? That seems so unnatural. Should I just leave?

I must have made a sound as the attention suddenly fell on me. He spoke, “Oh, I want you to meet someone.”

Frankly, I was a bit appalled, as he acted like he just thought of it. Clearly, he was in my thoughts far more than I was in his. Another telltale sign.

“Beautiful, come here. Come meet Maggie.”

Was I to obey like some dog? How rude. I was no dog. That he even called me beautiful in front of her. What, were we now to cat-fight for his pleasure?

“She’s a bit shy.”

“Oh, my gosh, you ARE beautiful. He told me so much about you, but you really are delightful!” The woman spoke to me. I was a bit overcome with all the admiration. In fact, I wasn’t able to muster a protest much less a hiss of disgust. She was indeed something. I could see why he liked her. She was a pleasure.

Just then he did something he very seldom did and made me feel like a child. He picked me up and carried me over to her.

“Beautiful, I’d like you to meet, Maggie. Maggie, this is my cat, Beautiful, who I love dearly.”

“She is lovely.”

And I thought so too.

The End

2020 what a year. When all governments were driven down by fear. WHO did lead the mighty call, virus fear, come one, come all!

South Africa was the first to steer, “Stay home. No beer! No Beer for here!”

Europe barricade your doors, the healthy must now stay indoors.

Actions taken strong and swift, so no healthy man would be left adrift.

Shut the businesses, shut them all! On Worship houses you must not call.

No symptoms will you know, but trust us, it’s the new foe.

Trillions of viruses may pass you by, but this one is special, we know not why.

Big media is your one to hear, listen well, and sit in fear.

Sit in your homes and hide away, let depression and suicide bide your day. Children will not educate, it seems we’re at a stalemate.

Eliminate the people one by one, look ma, we can do it without any gun.

Media won’t tell you any news, just listen to our paid views.

You think it was a plan for all, but no, that’s fear that’s in your way. We’re big media and we have a say. Look, California just shuttered today. It shut its churches and its schools but not its bars and strip clubs too. Believe it or not those were the rules.

Listen to big media, you must, you hear. We earn our living from your fear.

But look a threat is really near, dirty hands and feet and nasty smears.

Italy shut its mighty Rome. Close the business, stay at home. Taxes we now must raise, as no businesses are here left to pay.

Essential media is a must. We are the ones who you can trust. China lost its mighty deal, they created a way to make us squeal.

One evil white does kill a man. Antifa now makes its stand, “Kill them all across the land”. “Burn the buildings one and all”, Antifa makes its riot call. You’ll pay, you’ll pay you evil whites, oh wait, no one is left to win this fight.

President go who made no wars. Next one come and tax some more!

Handouts for one and all, you have suffered so in this mighty brawl. Stay in day and night, stay apart, and you’ll be alright.

Injustice rolls all along, as statues and history are deranged by throngs.

Burn and riot one and all, listen well to Antifa’s call. Watch media giggle in the rear, soon one and all will disappear.

That’s right we’ve done it now. Amendment One take a final bow. Step aside, for if you congregate, Antifa will come storm the gate. Amendment One you will not last, because we insist you stay apart and wear a mask.

Hidden behind this shadowy veil, big tech and media want you to fail. World bankers quietly fund it all; play us while are children fall.

Censor words and thoughts and news. Censor on and let all lose.

2020 heard the call, human traffic made an eery pall. Open now that border wall. Children forced into computers all. Children stolen in the back of vans. Ship them to a perverted twisted man! Did you hear or media told you not, 2020 child trafficking was a record crop!

Good President, good President give us corn. Support us in this time of scorn. Big media tells us you are so good. Funny how no one supported you in my hood. Votes all cast, you came in last, numbers flashed, and you’re in there fast. No worries, it’s all the past.

Let’s not lie now anymore. This virus has taken an awful score. Media tells us what to fear, stay apart and don’t get near. Toxic people all are here, dumpsters stacked with bodies near, hospitals packed in aisles and there are no pedophiles. Listen to your news, big media never takes a snooze. Vaccines will save you, one and all, except for those the vaccine made fall. Big Pharma knows just what to do, make a virus called the Wuhan flu. Vaccinate for what you found and everyone will lay on down. Big cash made on that deal, so let’s not hear one more appeal.

Yet, let’s not be remiss and exclude proper testing from our list.

Great Barrington did declare, healthy ways to end this myth. Fifty-thousand doctors did unite and presented solutions for this plight. Ignore them all, of course you did, as this exposed just what you hid.

2020 was quite some year. Messy just as any smear; no toilet paper and greater fear. But rest assured all is well. Just wear your mask and sit quiet now, you’ll serve very well soon as a cash cow.

I’d be cruel if I left today without telling you how to make a better way. Your love, your kindness for your friends is what will save you in the end. Push back one worlder’s mighty call, to dumb you down and make you small. Learn your rights and don’t hesitate, to let them know we’re each responsible for our own fate.

END

Think of the dishonest man-

for what does he really stand?

Think of the dishonest man-

a life no one could stand.

His pride and self-worth

traded for a false sense of mirth.

His memories will be skewed

for all the trust and decency he eschewed.

Think of the dishonest man-

his worth is that of a sham.

A life without hope or joy or sense of pride.

A life forfeit with all decencies laid aside.

Think of the dishonest man-

Lost in his own savage land.

“You think you make an influence? You don’t,” Lois said as she slapped the lunch bag out of the young boy’s hand. His apple broke through the bottom of the paper bag and rolled on the floor. Johnny picked it up and went back to cleaning up the dishes and hung up the dish towel in order to complete his chores. His older sister had already headed out to school getting a ride from friends, by the time he was done.

Johnny waited at the bus stop. A girl tripped and spilled her purse. The other kids started to laugh at her clumsiness. Johnny knelt down and started to help her pick up the contents. She was a bit embarrassed by the help, but said softly, “Thank you. I’m Ginny, by the way, I see you out here every morning. Sorry, I never asked your name.” When he was just about finished, he felt a sudden pain to his ribs. Kicked off balance, he looked up and it was Max’s foot. “You think you make a difference,” he said, “you don’t.”

The bus arrived.

The kids gathered onto the bus to school. It was a long day at school. In Miss Lutman’s class, the teacher began berating Ferris for again forgetting his homework. Ferris was floundering looking about his desk for where he put it. It would mean staying late if he forgot it just one more time. Johnny noticed a fat pocket of papers protruding from Ferris’ jacket hanging over the back of his chair. He reached over and motioned to Ferris, “Is this it?” pointing out the packet.

In a flash of epiphany, Ferris dug his hand into the pocket and pulled out the homework and waved it in the air. Miss Lutman, sneered and pulled it from his hand. She turned to Johnny and said, “Don’t go thinking you influenced anything, it still has to be graded.”

When the school bell finally rang and the children were released from academia, Johnny headed to the bus stop for the ride home. Some kids ran past him and one was pushed by two others and fell over and and his book backpack with papers and books splayed all over the grass. The kids laughed and walked on. Johnny watched as the girl he helped at the bus stop, Ginny, jumped up from where she was sitting and raced over to the boy, who was searching for his glasses among the debris. She helped him pick up his bag and replenish its contents. She looked up at Johnny and smiled.

The bus arrived. Max was in the back and cried out as the bus pulled away from school. “Oh, man! I forgot my textbook for my homework tonight! I’m going to get another ‘F’.”

Everyone heard and kept to themselves. Ferris was sitting a few rows in front. He got up and walked to the back of the bus. “No worries, man, here, use mine. You can take a picture of the assignment with your phone.”

“Thanks man, you’re a life saver.” Max said.

“No worries man, I had a similar problem today, that kid right there helped me.” Ferris pointed to Johnny.

Max jerked his head back bewildered. Perplexed, he half smiled at Johnny and motioned a thumbs up.

The bus pulled up at Johnny’s stop. He got off the bus and walked toward his house. He noticed his mom’s car in the driveway; she was home early. That never happened. He hurried his pace. He ran up the side steps and flew into the kitchen. His mom was there talking to his sister. They both looked as he entered.

“There you are! We’ve been waiting for you.” His mom said.

Johnny was a bit puzzled, they looked happy but...

“Thank you so much for helping me get out of the house early this morning. I was able to make it to my meeting early, impressed the client, made the sale and the boss gave me the afternoon off. We’re going bowling and eating out tonight!”

His mom hugged him. He looked up at his older sister, “You got me, Squirt,” she said, “you are pretty influential.” She rubbed his head, “Just keep being you.”

End

A dim glow illuminated from the basement windows, invitingly warm on this chilly evening. Past the tiger-embroidered curtains were four manly-men, past their prime, playing a losing card game, more for the purpose of camaraderie than anything else, although none would admit it. Pete was the newest member, but eagerly holding his own. The basement was a true man-cave, complete with a claw-footed Honduras mahogany card table, fur-lined seats, multiple big screens and hunter trophy’s of long gone adventures. Louie’s pride was in this corner of the universe, bestowed to impress.

“Spirits! You’ve got to be kidding,” Louie guffawed. “Hell, the only spirits you’re gonna find around here is what’s in that there liquor cabinet.” He made his point by sipping his whiskey and drawing a card, then puffing smoke rings to further his ridicule.

“No, really. Spirits are everywhere. There have been numerous sightings. The Catholic Church even keeps official records on sightings of the Virgin Mary.” Pete, much to his surprise, had stepped in a verbal mosh pit and quickly took the defensive. He looked across the table at the card players and none seemed to entertain his idea that actual spirits existed.

“Yeah, my Grandma used to talk about them all the time. Then they put her in the looney bin. She kept talking about seeing her dead husband,” Melvin, a used car man, belched out.

“Wouldn’t that be your ‘Grandfather’?” Forest inquired, munching on mini-pretzels and making air-quotes with pretzels in each hand.

“Nope. Grandma was married 3, maybe 4 times. The last one said he’d never leave her. I never saw him dead, but she swore he kept his promise after he died. Sounds a bit insecure, to me. Grandma found it quite annoying at times. Even had whole conversations with him trying to get him to shut-up. That’s when Mom couldn’t take it no more herself, and dumped Grandma in with the looneys. Odd thing is, it just got worse from there. The man’s spirit started bothering her all times of day and night. Or at least that’s what she said.” Melvin got busy re-sorting his cards.

“Them’s all looneys, those ‘spirit-seers’. Even them priests that tell you to put a nickel in the box for the spirit Saint to protect you. It’s a load of dung as far as I’m concerned.” Louie made his point with a most displeasing hack and another guffaw to follow.

“I’m telling you. You shouldn’t disrespect so. There are spirits. And there’s probably some listening right now.” Pete pleaded his point. He looked about Louie’s den. It was certainly a man-cave. He eyed the Buffalo head staring down from the wall. Several other severed heads from unwise or inattentive animals were scattered about the room. Including a Meerkat posed most viciously. Above the bar in the back were an exclusive ’50s hubcap collection.

Forest reached for a center snack from the pre-made supermarket snack tray Melvin so graciously brought to their Friday card night. Diplomatically, Forest, lawman at heart, tried to soften the blow to Pete, “Even if there were spirits, they’re certainly not doing much in the way of this world. What good, or bad, would they be for hanging around, even if they were listening. It’s not like they’re contactable. It’s all made up to frighten children anyway.”

“Well, that’s just my point. They are contactable. Some people can contact them. I bet we could call some up right now, and that would prove it to all of you.”

“Pete, you’re taking this way too seriously. Let it rest, only looneys see spirits. If you keep talking like this you’re apt to find yourself in the looney bin. There’s just no such thing is all.” Melvin did his best to reason, looking learned as he re-lit his cigar and leaning sideways to air himself.

Pete recoiled, then spoke, “Louie, did you kill that buck?”

“Hey, hey, you darn right I did. Let me tell you about that one. There he was looking mean and ornery out in the clearing. I quietly positioned him in my illuminated duplex rifle scope and squeezed my Browning trigger and BLAM! Steak!”

“Right. So where did the life go?”

“The hell out of that deer. Who cares. Made good steaks. And a mighty fine headpiece too. Just look at that rack.” He held his glass up toasting his kill.

“It didn’t go nowhere,” Melvin reported, “it’s dead. Things just die. If not from the hunter, starving in winter will kill it. Just ’cause it’s dead doesn’t mean it’s floating around somewhere. Be awful crowded if they did.”

“Haven’t any of you heard of Buddhism? Hinduism? Japanese Shinto? Christianity? Any of the world’s religions? They each believe in some sort of spirits. Spirits that transcend this world to the next, spirits that guide us, spirits that protect us...”

“Sounds like a hell of a lot of preppy balderdash to me! Ghosts is ghosts. And there ain’t no ghosts.” Louie tossed down a card and inhaled mightily only to get interrupted by a deep guttural cough.”

Forest, maintaining diplomacy, took pity, “You’re not going to win this one, boy. No one here believes in that childish hocus-pocus. Just give it up. It’s not something anyone can prove. But it is a money-maker. Sort of like elections. Would the country be any different if the other guy got elected? It’s all speculation. But you’re certainly entitled to your opinion.”

“Ok, I can prove it to you.” Pete frowned determinedly.

“Oh, you’re going to start talking to them up like my Grandma did? Look, I already told you, she saw them, but I didn’t. It’s in her head, not mine. I see what’s in front of me, not something else. Like right now I got three sorry card players I’m looking at, all 5 o’clock shadows, and stuffed guts.”

“Hey, watch it punk,” Louie barked, grabbing a handful of mid section, “this here is muscle.”

“I’ll do better than talk to them. I’ll let you see them for yourself.” Pete threw his cards down, clearly getting tense.

“Ah, don’t go getting all hot headed. This is just a friendly game.” Forest putting on his peace officer voice, “You’re new to us, we’re just razzing you is all. No need to get uppity. You have to realize ghosts is a pretty wild topic. Sorry to have to blow it up for you. But, there’s no such thing as spirits. People invented them to make a buck or two. Or to gain some control, like the witch doctors do. It’s just a racket is all. I know rackets. I’ve been busting them for years.” Forest pointed to his ‘Deputy Sheriff- Retired’ shirt, quite pleased with himself, being a cut above the others.

“Ok, so if I prove it, you won’t get mad at me then will you?”

“Oh, heck no,” Melvin said, “I mean there ain’t no way to prove it, but even if you did, we’re not sore losers.”

Pete looked at each of their faces across the table. They all nodded in accord. A sore loser was certainly a pariah here.

“Ok, so give me three tries. If you can’t experience anything on the first two, the third one I know for sure you will. Works every time.”

“Well, why not just skip to that one then? I mean let’s get on with it.” Louie prodded.

“It’s a bit extreme. I’d rather do the others first and see if I can win you over.”

“Have it your way,” Louie sat back, ready to be entertained. The others looked at Pete as if preparing for a first grade recital their wives dragged them to.

Pete slid back from the table. “Are you aware of the history of this part of town?”

Forest piped up, “Certainly. I used to do calls out this way.”

“Did you ever get a very strange call. One from a woman who described her attackers, after they had murdered her?”

“Oh, that old myth. Yea, someone prank called it in. Papers loved it. A sick joke at that. Story goes: Ms. Beckum was murdered by her sisters for flirting with their boyfriends. One kicked her in the head while the other stabbed her. Coroner’s report showed blunt force to the head and a nasty knife wound in her chest. Split her heart in two, in fact. Her sisters were at the scene, blood all over them. They tried to blame it on some boy, but it was obvious. Clearly, was high school rivalry that got out of hand. Pure jealousy really. Some idiot called after pretending to be her, blaming the boyfriend. We never did find the prankster, so the ghost story goes on.”

“I heard she was more than just flirting with the beaus. She was downright double-dipping each. Hot and sexy she was at that.” Melvin added, puffing his cigar and giving it a double tap in the lava rock ash tray.

“So you know the story. That Judith Beckum called the sheriff after her demise.” Pete re-iterated.

“No, some prankster did.”

“I thought you’d say that. I chose her as first, thinking she’d be familiar. As you say, she’s quite comfortable with men and a man-cave.” Pete turned to the basement window, “Judith would you mind making an appearance? This is Forest, a deputy sheriff that worked on your case.”

The recessed lights dimmed and flickered. A draft blew in from nowhere. A blue-green flickering vision of a young lady dressed in a nightgown and robe floated forward to the table. The image was fully transparent, yet was indeed present. She blew a kiss to Forest and perched herself on the table. She began stroking a cigar he had placed on the table next to his munchies pile.

“Damn power surge.” Louie said, “Does it every time the wind blows hard. I’m thinking of installing the power lines underground to avoid that.” He coughed brutally.

“It would be polite to acknowledge Judith, gentleman.” Pete pointed out.

“May she rest in peace. Is that what you mean? Because you brought her up?” Melvin puzzled.

“No, because she is right next to me. Forest, certainly, you see her?”

“Hell, I don’t even remember what she looked like. After so many years of law work, all those details sort of blend. Only remember the story as it was talk of the town for so long. It was a pity she died so young though.” He tapped a card on edge and sipped his beer.

“Well if you listen closely, you just might hear her. She has something to reconcile with you.” Pete insisted, completely baffled that they couldn’t see her.

Judith began to speak. An eery whisper could be heard by even Louie. He dismissed it as the house settling down.

“My sisters didn’t kill me. That’s the first thing you need to fix. I most certainly was ‘familiar’ with Bobby Greenbaum, the Mayor’s son.” She stroked the cigar most handsomely and licked her lips.

“That night he stopped by unannounced. My sisters began fussing over him. Even brought out cake. I let it slip that he liked me best. Maggie became furious. She pushed me calling me a whore. So, I slapped her, playfully, of course. Shaming her for her misdeeds. Well, that was more than Bobby could stand.” Judith giggled, “He flew at me and knocked me back. I always loved it when he got rough. But I fell off-balance and hit my head hard on the wooden chair on the way down. I reached for my head and kicked him where it counts. He reached for the cake knife and shoved it into me.” With that, Judith stabbed the cigar into Forest’s chest. “I was done. Bobby ran home.” Viridescent arms attempted to massage Forest’s shoulder as she moved behind him.

Forest batted at the cigar. “Melvin, quit throwing things. You’re so childish sometimes.”

“What? ME?” Melvin defended.

“You hear that? Bobby Greenbaum murdered Judith after the girls fought over him!” Pete looked dismayed seeing their inattention and just fiddling with cards and snacks.

“That’s one of them ‘conspiracy theories’ I guess. Would make great headlines, ‘Mayor’s son murders girl’. Sorry, the evidence was all over the sisters.” Forest told Pete.

“That’s because they were trying to save me and stop the bleeding!” Judith moved through the table in front of Forest. He paid her no heed. She pouted. Rebuffed by their inattention, she vanished, only to upturn a standing lamp on her departure.

“Lay off the pranks, Melvin.” Louie scolded. “Go pick it up.”

Melvin dutifully obeyed.

“Ok, gentlemen. That was number one. I, for certain, believed you would be able to see her. Or at least hear her. Did you at least notice the draft and light change? The lamp?”

“I told you the lights change all the time when the wind blows.” Louie said. “Sounds like the neighbors got their radio on, too.

“Melvin needs to quit yanking the lamp cord with his big ol’ feet. Get on with it would you? Some ghost story about a dead blonde isn’t gonna do much to convince us. I’ve sat around camp fires for years and listened to hundreds of ghost stories. Boo.”

“Right,” said Pete.

Melvin acted wiser, “As the doctor explained it to my Grandma, the reason there ain’t no real ghosts, except in stories, is because when a person dies, the chemical interactions stop. All those ideas one gets are all a complex series of chemical interchanges. When death comes, it’s over. Sort of like when you take a steak off the grill. When the cooking stops, it’s just dead meat.”

“I see where we're at,” Pete said, with a hint of sarcastic frustration, “Let’s move on to my second attempt.

“Do any of you favor folklore?”

“Oh, yes, I read up on all kinds. I find the stories pretty amusing. Like Leprechauns, crafty little ones,” Melvin said.

“Exactly. Have you heard of Japanese folklore?”

“All I know of the Japs is we bombed them in World War II,” Louie coughed out, “They would have fought to the last man had we not blown them up. Talk about crafty little bastards.”

“Well, they make good cars.” Forest responded.

“Yes, yes, brutality aside. You’re at least familiar with folklore and Japanese. It’s a very old and proud country. Long before the war they’ve held certain beliefs. Kitsune, the fox, is one of their spirit animals. A magic being, you could say. And since none of you were attune to people as spirits, I thought not to bore you with ancestors and angels and summon an animal to this den.”

“Go right ahead,” Louie said, “I could use a foxtail next to the beaver by the window.”

“Oh, dear. Kitsune, would you please visit us?”

“What the hell is that?” Melvin jumped back from the table. He got down off his chair and looked under, “I felt something brush by my leg. You got a dog in here?”

Forest began sneezing. “Better not, because I’m allergic.”

“Naw, I’m all out of dogs. After my last hunting dog died I figured it too much work to get another.” Louie said.

Suddenly, an elderly man appeared in the room. He wore a traditional Japanese robe and a wide-brimmed hat, however, none of the men noticed.

Kitsune did his best, shape-shifting from one form into another, each of which escaped the men at the table. Forest merely was a bit uncomfortable with the fox dander and Melvin swatted at his ears, thinking it mosquitos, as the fox nipped them playfully. Pete thought Louie was convinced when his ball cap was pushed down over his eyes, but he simply attributed it to hair grease and the hat slipping when he coughed.

Kitsune left, tail drooped behind.

“Well, gentlemen, I’m quite surprised. You’ve managed to avoid seeing the spirits presented.

“Well, had you presented some, I’m sure we’d see them. But as we told you, their ain’t no such thing as spirits,” Louie scoffed.

Melvin followed his lead, “You are starting to sound like my Grandma. But don’t worry, I won’t tell the men in the white coats on you. Just keep it to yourself from now on.”

“With all due respect, as the doctor explained to Melvin, we’re just chemicals. I’ve seen many a murder victim. When they’re gone, they’re gone. Sorry, to have to break it to you.”

Pete slumped in his chair. His jacket crumpled around him. “Well, you leave me no choice but my third option. Do forgive me, will you? You did promise you wouldn’t get mad.”

Pete rose from his chair as quick as a latch, pulled a 9MM from his hip and fired a round into each man’s head, blood spattering the bearskin rug below. Their bodies slumped bleeding and motionless in their chairs.

Melvin was the first to realize what happened and protested looking down at the mess, “Hey! What the hell you do that for? That was a perfectly good body. Now I’ve done soiled myself.”

“That’s murder!” Forest hollered, having slid back from his body and still trying to get it to move.

Louie fell out of his body and started to laugh, looking at the other two dead bodies and his own. “Damn, what a relief that was! Gotta say, I was lying when I said it was muscle. Tumorous fat is what that was. In fact, I figured I had lung cancer too.” Louie zoomed around the room away from his body, chuckling and moving up high to face the deer heads, hub caps and buffalo. “Good times!

“You make a real good point there Pete. Who knew I was a spirit! This is fun!!” Louie’s demeanor change from grumpy old man to spirited youth, was encouraging.

“Well, I hope you all are convinced now,” Pete smiled, “I think you’d agree, spirits do exist.”

“This ain’t so bad,” Melvin consented, “at least I don’t have to go figuring out breakfast now or go back to the dealership to handle those complaints.”

Forest frowned, floating back and forth through his body, “What now?”

“Well, you could always start anew. Or choose a religion. Up to you. I’ll let you talk amongst yourselves. I don’t mean to be rude, but I do have to get back. I’d hate to be picked up for murder.” Pete laughed merrily as he walked through the wall, heading back to the gates to determine his next destination.

The End

He fiddled his pills and said I was ill- mental was certain the type.

OCD, ADD, PCP, LSD, he threw letters at me.

He gave me short shrift and flipped me a script, to give me a lift.

Chemical mind, chemical me, seemed a bit unfit.

I hadn’t understood, from where that he stood, he knew why I grieved or if I was pleased.

With pills in my hand and script with his plan, he said all would be well; he’d seen it before and these pills would level the score.

Lucky for me I wasn’t able to see, how pills in my throat would make me more me.

I dispensed of his pills, and felt no more ill.

A future I planned, away from this man.

Labels weren't for me.

All surrounding me was thick impenetrable blackness...

That which we don’t know we may fear. Be it a new boss, a new assignment, a new city, a new school, a new job, a new symptom, an unexpected call. One could even go so far as to say that distance just forward of the present moment could itself be the greatest unknown. What will happen?

There are people who fear the future, for the future carries with it the largest potential unknowns. Will your lover be home tonight? Or staying late to be with another? Man is surrounded largely by things he “doesn’t know”. This is not the same as those gripping “unknowns”.

You show up at the party of friends with your gift. That future is not largely an unknown. It’s more you “don’t know” how the night will go, but more than likely it will be ok, as that’s the way these parties are.

However, you show up at the party and there’s no one there you recognize. You even notice there is a man in the corner who keeps staring at you. In fact, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you stepped into the courtyard. Your one friend you can’t seem to find. The man starts toward you, reaching into his pocket, frowning and moving faster…

That is the “unknown” of which I speak.

Every day you report to a job. Everyday you’re greeted, or not, by people you are somewhat familiar with. A man goes through school or life and gets accustomed to a certain pattern. He knows the routes to work or school. He knows the usual people or type of people he sees. He’s set himself up with a remarkable series of “knowns” to combat his detest for the “unknown”.

Could it be those things which one identifies as “unknown” are simply areas he doesn’t in fact wish to look? What would prevent such a look?

The pretty girl finds a man of which she becomes familiar, never really looking, hoping to have something she indeed wants, but does not look at what she doesn’t want to see. The handsome bloke perhaps does the same. He sees the beautiful hair, the unforgettable smile, the warmth of her kiss and touch. But does he look? What might he see? Not from a past experience, but what might he see in the “now”?

Had he looked, he could have seen her insecurity. Her constant fidgeting and picking of her nails. Had she looked, she’d see his wandering eyes and insincere answers. Passing over “looking” as mistaken politeness and “each should be allowed their unknowns” they never stop and step back and look at one of the greatest leaps of life.

Now, as parents, they’re accustomed to not looking. How many times have we heard a child repeatedly calling to get a parents attention, only to be ignored or brushed aside like some pesky black fly? Did they look and see the future of all mankind standing there? Do they see the one who will be caring for them, or not, at their late hour in life? Do they look at the beauty of life itself?

Children are largely unknowns. “What do we do with him? Why is he behaving that way? Is he sick? Is he on the right path? Will he turn out alright? How do we handle him or her?” If there were a more solid path of “unknowns” it appears to have escaped mankind utterly. Certainly, childhood is strewn with a yellow brick road of the most curious unknowns.

But let’s not look at that. Let’s not look at the child and see what we see. Let’s just somehow muddle through, head down and weather this storm. They’ll grow, as all children do, and once adults, if we can get them that far, they can go off into some dismal future we hope will be better than our past.

Or perhaps we should look? What would be our unknowns, if we stopped and looked. Would the child really be the cause of misbehavior, or would be find we had our own hand in that fault? Would we find we took the time to get them to look and thus face some of their unknowns? Could we, in fact, live with ourselves if we stopped and chose to look?

Would we see the spouse we married for who they are or if we looked would there be an entirely different person standing there? What unknown would we now face?

Take heart in knowing where you have indeed looked, you no doubt made the right choice thereafter. This is easy to see, as without looking one would still be standing in the same unresolvable sea of confusion. When one looks, there is no fear, no muddle, no confused ideas.

If one found one’s life in such a state of confusion, to swim out, he would indeed have to be wiling to face the dreaded unknown and begin to raise his head and look.

"Why don’t I ever do anything right? What’s wrong with me? Why do things go wrong for me? Why am I like that? Why, why, why?" That for sure is not looking.

Look implies an outward direction. One can look in to reflect and compare perhaps, but if one is finding oneself in a wing-ding of a muddle, one can take heart in knowing the looking he needs to do is outward, not in.

Nothing is ever wrong with you yourself innately. The wrongness will always be in the environment. Once one looks there, the answers become very simple.

It’s not, “Why didn’t I choose the right man?” or “Why do I always pick losers to date?” the answer is in looking at the person you choose to date. Was there something about that person that didn’t seem right? Did you feel worse or feel less after speaking to them? Or did they bring you up?

Were you having to put yourself down to make conversation or be the butt of their jokes? What was actually said? What was meant? Or do we like to keep it all hidden from ourselves and revel in our unknown and pretend we don’t really know anything anyhow. Or did we simply want a game and getting ourselves in trouble with Mister or Miss Wrong was part of the contest?

Suffice to say, look is outward, not inward.

Does this mean criticism? Look and criticism are certainly far apart. For if one is being critical or viewing with a critical eye, it no doubt indicates one’s own experience one is unwilling to look at, and thus viewing the current scene clouded by some past unpleasant experience. In short, one isn’t looking as to what is, but as to what was, and even in that an incomplete view.

So let’s not accuse others of all the awful things we say we look at. If we are truly looking, we would see what is, is. We wouldn’t be criticizing what is as that does nothing. One can criticize the car for not running, but if one simply looked at the gas gauge and saw it empty, one would then have data with which to remedy the matter.

So with our couple, if she could see him for what he is, not for what she wants him to be, she may get a far more accurate picture. From there she could decide to keep him or reject his advances. To that degree, she’d have one less unknown in life. From there she could truly know him and love him for who he really is, not what she wanted him to be.

But, she would have to look at him, his actions, his life, to actually see what is there. If he always left his dorm or car a mess, do you think he’ll keep his bedroom or bath any neater?

If one, each day, isolated those areas where they knew they didn’t want to look, and began to look in them, no doubt they’d be surrounded in far fewer unknowns.

So what of the bigger questions. The origin of life? Death? Afterlife? Would these, too, be resolved by looking? I’m afraid they would. But perhaps, one could suggest, these areas are too steep for a first look. If one is sitting on infidelity, drug abuse, dishonesty, hidden acts and misdeeds, one would hardly find solace in looking at the origin of all mankind. One could start by looking for what one truly wants help with. These answers are there to be found, but one would have to look. Then, someday, when one has done a bit of looking into one’s own world and gotten some practice with it, solving one's own mysteries, one could then look into the larger more universal questions.

As one looks away the unknowns, one gains more ground of certainty, until one finally comes out on top- more stable and more able than they ever thought possible.

Your invitation to looking into the unknown has just begun.

Where should you look?

I looked, and the blackness faded…

Friday night I crashed your party

Saturday I said I'm sorry

Sunday came and trashed me out again

I was only having fun

Wasn't hurting any one

And we all enjoyed the weekend for a change

People say I'm crazy

Doing what I'm doing

Well, they give me all kinds of warnings

To save me from ruin

When I say that I'm okay, well they look at me kinda strange

"Surely, you're not happy now, you no longer play the game"

You may be right

I may be crazy

But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for

It's too late to fight

It's too late to change me

You may be wrong for all I know

But you may be right

Ah, people ask me questions

Lost in confusion

Well, I tell them there's no problem

Only solutions

Well, they shake their heads and they look at me, as if I've lost my mind

I tell them there's no hurry, I'm just sitting here doing time

You may be right

I may be crazy

But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for

Turn out the light

Don't try to save me

You may be wrong for all I know

You may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

You may be wrong but you may be right

Songs: You May Be Right, by Billy Joel

and Watching the Wheels, by John Lennon