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Book II

Things That Go Bump in the Night

 Chapter 1 – Deputy Mayfield

 

II

 

The rain came down in droves.  It was a perfect ending to a perfectly fucked up night.  Lana had been late to the party and had hopped tonight would be the night that she and Brody finally had there moment. 

Brody and her were in the same Economics class and he had asked her to the frat party.  She said she would love to go but had to work.  He told her to stop by after work.  So she had rushed back to the dorm room and gotten ready.  The radio had said there was little chance of rain, so she left her jacket and umbrella in the room.  Janie wasn’t around when she was in the room.  She was probably out some where with another one of her boy toys.  That roommate of hers always had one boy or another on the hook. 

However, when she went to the party everything went wrong.  Brody was there.  However, he she actually walked in on that asshole making out with another girl. So now here she was walking home and the sky has opened up just like the ducts in her eyes.  She had like Brody or at least though she did.  She didn’t date much, not like Janie. 

She was a little jealous of how casual and relaxed Janie was about the whole dating and sex thing.  She has had sex with Bryan back in high school.  It was young love and it was supposed to last forever.  However, he had gone off to Wichita State on a baseball scholarship and that was the end of that.  It lasted all of about three weeks after he got there before he called her and very honestly told her that baseball players at Wichita State were gods and he needed to be free to explore.  The son of a bitch had actually said he needed to “Sow his royal oats” Can you believe that, what was this Coming to fucking America.  Maybe just maybe he would give her a call at Christmas break because he probably wouldn’t be home for Christmas. 

Janie had been so sweet during the break up.  She was always there to whip her tears and tell her everything would be ok.  That the first love always was the sweetest love but hurt the most when it ended and honey she would say it always does end.  She told her that mean where idiots and that they were there for a good bang and that was about it.  Have fun with as many of them as you can before you decide to settle down.

It was during this time she had learned just about how adventurous her roommate was.  She had done all sorts of sexual things.  Her young sex life could have been featured on one of those HBO Real Sex Shows had most of it not taken place in high school.  It was also during these conversations that it became apparent that to both Lana and Janie that she in all those back seat romps with her baseball stud that Lana had never achieved an orgasm.

Janie asked her if she had never double clicked her own mouse.  Lana was a little taken back by the turn in the conversation.  She swore up and down as women do that they would never do such a thing and it was disgusting.  That is when Janie looked at her square in the face and said see, if you’d had an orgasm then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. 

She told Lana how fun it was and how much of a stress relief it was.  That she had some erotica written by some B person or another that she could borrow if she wanted.  She said honey this B fella makes 50 shades read like a children’s novel and the guy could actually tell a pretty good story too.  She told Janie she would borrow it some time and maybe she should as she said doubled click her own mouse.  However, she never had.  It just seemed not wrong to her, but well she was a hot 19 year old women, not that Janie wasn’t pretty but well, she was into Brody and well she thought wasn’t a boy supposed to give you your first orgasm?

Now here she was and the rain was cold and getting colder.  If she didn’t get back to the dorm soon she would catch a cold.  She should about running but her shoes weren’t made for running.  So she plodded along alone in the night and she cried over a boy she had never kissed.  It was so silly.  Stupid boy. 

She got home and was surprised her key was actually in her pocket.  After the night she was having and the year she wouldn’t have been surprised that she had lost it but she had not. It opened the lobby door and then she took the elevator up to five. 

She hopped Janie was still out all she wanted to do was dry off, take a shower and slip under her sheets and cry herself to sleep.  Sometimes you just needed to clean the system and crying even though it drained you certainly did that. 

So she was really disappointed when she opened the door and Janie was sitting on her bed with the phone cradled to her ear.  She was flushed in the face and seemed to be breathing heavily.  The open of the door seemed to jerk her out of what appeared to be a serious conversation.  When she saw Lana looking at her, see turned beat red.  Then what seemed to be embarrassment quickly turned to concern as she saw Lana standing there soaking wet. 

“David I will have to call you back.”  She said.

Something from the other line Lana couldn’t here it. 

“I don’t know when, you just stay how you are, and I will call when I can.  It is Lana, she is all out of sorts and I have to see to her.” 

Lana started to protest but Janie held up her hand and said good-bye at the same time.  She turned concerned eyes towards her younger roommate her had just walked into the room.

“Oh Darlin, what happened to you?”

Lana broke down and started balling.  She couldn’t help it.  It was just about Brody.  It was about everything.  She was a freshman in College and her and Bryan were supposed to last forever.  She would work and go to IUW until she could afford enough to transfer to Wichita State.  She wasn’t supposed to be home early from the hot college party, soaking wet, wishing she was still at South, because she was a Queen at South and ever weekend was the cool parties and Bryan and it was supposed to last forever. 

She mumbled to Janie what had happened with Brody and what an asshole he was. 

“I told you men were worthless except for a good hard fuck!”  Janie said.

Janie in circled her in a big bear hug.  Lana could feel her stiff nipples poking into her.  She had definitely walked into something.  Janie kept telling it was all right and that she would take care of her, not to worry, she would call her friend and change her plans.  Lana tried to tell her no, but Janie insisted.  She called back whoever it was on the other end of the phone, and promised that she would make it up to him but she just had to stay her with Lana.  It was the right thing to do.

Lana had grabbed her towel off the drying rack and started to dry her hair.  When she felt Janie’s hands take it from her.  Janie turned her around, and said oh sweet thing the first thing we have to do is get you out of those wet cloths and that is exactly what Janie did. 

Janie unbutton her shit and peeled it off of her.  Then she pulled the t-shirt off over her head.  Next she was popping the buttons on her jean skirt and telling Lana to step out of hit.  Lana did as she was told.  Janie was being so nice and she had been so upset. 

Janie looked her from head to toe “Oh my fucking god honey, that Brody is an idiot!” 

Lana turned a little pinker if that was possible being flushed from the tears and the rain.  “No, really, OMG, if he could see that hot little bra and panty number you put on for him, all I can say is WOW, I never knew what a hard body you had.” 

Janie moved back and reached around her and started to unclasp her bra and finally Lana was jerked out of her stupor and asked “Whaa, what are you doing?” 

“Honey, you think these things stayed dry when ever thing else was soaked.  This has to come off and so do the panties and those shoes, how did we not start with those?”

“Oh?!” Lana said.

“Honey we need to get you dry and under the covers and warm before you catch cold?  You act like this is the first time you have been caught in a rain storm in Indiana.”

While she talked she pulled Lana out of her bra.  Then she was surprised again when Janie pulled down her panties.  She did this dropping into a crouch.  Then she pulled off the left heel, then the right. 

Janie then started to dry her off.  Starting with her feet, then running up her calves, and so on.  After she got to the hips she stood up and was very close to Lana.  The towel was behind her and Janie was drying her ass.

“I see you completely trimmed the hedges down there.  It was going to be a good night for Brody wasn’t it?” 

Lana couldn’t have turned any redder than she was at that moment.  She couldn’t say anything she just let Janie dry her off.  Her ass, her thighs, between them, then up her back and stomach too her breast. 

Lana was surprised when her nipples harden at Janie’s touch through the towel.  If Janie had noticed and it seem Janie had noticed everything tonight she let this pass.  Then she was drying her shoulders and then her hair.  Her hands were magical and they massaged as they dried. 

Soon as Janie was done she was pulling Lana to her dorm room bed and pulled the covers back and put Lana down into bed.  She was a little surprised when Janie got in with her and wrapped one of her arms around her while pulling the covers over them. Her hands then were all over Lana, rubbing circles trying to warm her up. 

Lana cried again, and mumbled about her heartbreaks and how it wasn’t supposed to be like this.  That college was supposed to be the great next step, not just a next step.  At this point Janie just held her in her arms and let her cry and listened to her. 

When she stopped talking and Janie continued to rub and massage her.  The massage felt good.  Lana was long passed warmed up.  She licked the way that Janie touched her.  She liked it a lot.  It had been a while since anyone had held her and touched her, listened to her, and told her it was all going to be all right.  She lay her head on Janie’s shoulder and let her hands run up and down her back. 

IT seemed liked Janie did this forever, and Lana looked up and Janie and Janie was looking back at Lana.  Lana pushed upwards toward Janie and started to kiss her on the mou…

KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH  KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH

It was cold water being splashed in his face.  All of the sudden he wasn’t sitting behind the wheel of the police cruiser, he in his childhood home and water was being dumped on him for his final wake up call for Sunday church.  That he wanted to sleep right through but dad would not allow for that.  Only he knew he wasn’t in his childhood home or asleep exactly.  No that was wrong.  However, he was pulled back into the real world just as harshly.

KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH  KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH  the fucking radio had brought him back from Penthouse Letter reading fantasy.  He looked down and sighed as his left hand massaging the bulge in his light brown Sheriff Uniform.  Fuck that was one intense story he said to himself and pulled the magazine closer to his face with his right hand.

KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH  KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH, fuck my life he thought as the crackles died in the still of the night and into the silence rang “Deputy Mayfield, Deputy Mayfield, do you copy?”

Continued from:

The Guardian at the Gate 

Book I

Wander IN

 

 

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-1.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-2.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-3.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-4a.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-4b.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-5.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-guardian-at-gate-book-ii-dead-arent.html

 

&

 

Book II

Things That Go Bump in the Night

 Chapter 1 – Deputy Mayfield

 

I

 

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2016/06/page-171-page-172-page-173-page-174.html

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Book II

Things That Go Bump in the Night

 Chapter 1 – Deputy Mayfield

            She hated the nights he was on duty.  Most of the Sheriff’s the came into the Stop and Gas were sweet and Kind.  Others like that Detective Ransom were dark and mysterious.  Not to mention kind of hot for an older man.  His Aunt Lana had said he was quite handsome even back before he started to grey early around the edges. 

            Deputy Kyle Mayfield fit into neither the sweet and kind nor the hot for an older dude category.  In her mind there wasn’t only one class for men like Deputy Mayfield, or as he always reminded her Deputy Mayfield and that was “Ew.  Creepy!”  His uniform was never pressed and had grease spots, especially under the arm pits.  His hair was never combed. Worst of all if he wasn’t leering at rack of porno mags that sold well to the lonely truckers that wandered down the endless Highway 63, he was leering at her. 

            Lana Coli at 19 years old was used to men noticing her.  She was drop dead gorgeous and she knew that people’s heads turned when she walked into a room.  She was modest or at least she thought she was for a hot chick.  Most of the boys in her graduating class would have agreed. They would say it was just as good to hang and chug beer as it would be to date her.  They would be lying out there young adult asses, because they all wanted to bang her. 

His leering was part of it.  His weak attempts to flirt with her were part of it.  He would often tell her was her to protect so if she ever needed him just to call him.  She could never really put a finger on what exactly it was about Deputy Mayfield.  Than it was just, well “Ew.  Creepy!” 

Tonight was one of the nights he was more interested in the porno rack than hers and she was glad.  She hoped he would take one, and that is just what he did, was take them.  He never paid for them.  She wished he would take one and just go, do whatever it was he did with them.  The new month’s subscription had just been stocked so he had his pick of the litter.  Although she knew which one he would take, the same one he always took, the Penthouse Letters, and although he kept looking away from it, his eyes always danced their way back to it.  He would all of the sudden stop his looking.  Walk back to the coffee section which the owner gave free to all the Sheriffs, he would make a mess with the creams and sugars, that she would have to clean up, then walk up and do his weak attempt at flirting, and turn to walk out, he would hesitate, grab the Penthouse Letters if it was new and he would go.  She would just stand there and think “Ew.  Creepy!” 

Soon as she had thought it Mayfield was walking back to the coffee.  He wouldn’t spend nearly as much time looking at the coffee selection as he did the porno section.  However, it was pretty close.  She looked down at the register, and hopped beyond hope he would be gone before he shift ended. 

“Find everything you need Deputy Mayfield?” Lana asked as he approached the register.  He had spilt some coffee on his shirt already.  She could also see trickles of coffee running down from under the lid.  This guy was, well he was just “Ew.  Creepy!”

He just looked at her for a long second after she spoke.  Then she added “Oh, I am sorry Deputy Kyle.  Did you find everything you needed?”

“Yes little lady I sure did.” He took a long slurp off the coffee.  “You’ve been behaving yourself right?”

This was one of his lines to trying to get him to engage in some conversation.  “Yes, Deputy Kyle, all I do is work here, watch my aunt’s kids, and go to school.  There really is no time to get in trouble.”  She wasn’t sure if she sounded warm, she was trying.

“Oh, come on now, I am sure you have some FUN, now don’t you.”  She didn’t like the way he emphasized fun but responded anyway.

“Sure, every now and then I catch up with the girls, but school is first.”

“See there you go.” He said more to her breasts than to her.  His tongue shot out of his mouth and licked his upper lip. 

“Is there anything else Deputy Mayfield?” 

He straightened and looked at her.  She let out a half giggle, it sounded so fake to her own ears “I am sorry Deputy Kyle.”

“I think that is gonna be it tonight little lady.  Have to go out there and protect and serve, you know.”  He said nodding into the night. 

“Oh, yes, we all feel, um so much saver knowing you are out there.”  NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, she screamed in her head.

“Well someone has to do it.”  He turned and started to walk away, but stopped and looked back at her breast. “Well if you ever need any help you know who to call, you have my card right. I mean there are a lot of weirdos out on 63.”

“Sure do.  Right under the register next to the phone, like I told you.” 

“Good, good.”  He turned and started to walk away.  She stood there watching him.  Waiting for him.  Halfway between him and the door was the porn and she stood there and watched him.  He was striding to the door and then a slight tilt of the head to the left and he found the Penthouse Letters and he reached out and grabbed it, rolled it up and walked out the door into the Wander night.  She just stood there thinking to herself “Ew. Creepy!”

Continued from:

The Guardian at the Gate 

Book I

Wander IN

 

 

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-1.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-2.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-3.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-4a.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-4b.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-guardian-at-gate-book-i-chapter-5.html

http://thebuddysystem22.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-guardian-at-gate-book-ii-dead-arent.html

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“Down in a hole, feeling so small
Down in a hole, losing my soul
I'd like to fly but my
Wings have been so denied”

Down in a Hole, ALICE IN CHAINS

“Rubber Duckie, you're the one,

You make bathtime lots of fun”

Rubber Duckie, Sesame Street

 
Down in a Hole

 - 1 -

“Sckwabbing tubbbles, you’re some one ...   That makes cweaning time so much fun…  Scrubbbbblllingg bua…bbles yurd the one… slubbing buabbleess….”

Flutter.  His eyes crack open at the sound.  His eyes shut when he is nearly blinded by white light.

“cweaning fime is much fum.”

Flutter.  Again his eyes open at the gibberish that is coming into his head.  He whips his mouth on the across what his is laying on.  An order pops into his noise it faintly detects the smell of urine.  His eyes can’t focus before of the white light.  They shut before the light can pierce his brain.

“Sclubbing babbles…dobado cweaning some time fun”

Flutter.  He tries to keep them open this time.  However light is reflecting in some many ways.  The light hurts.  However the sound hurts more.  What is the non-sense?  There is a rhythm to it.  He can’t hold onto it, and again his eyes shut.

“Cleaning fime so muck fun.”

Flutter.  Again, the eyes open mainly on there own accord.  He doesn’t want them open. He feels if they are aren’t open then he won’t hear it, if he doesn’t hear it, then it can’t hurt his brain.  He can rest.  Yes that is urine he smells.  He shifts his head again and he really smells it now.  His eyes catch the white again and flutter, they close.

“Scuba dubba, dur dah vun.  Makes…”

Flutter.  This time only the right eye open and it looks right into the white god of glare in front of him.  The left cracks but suddenly he feels a nail being driven into his skull right about said left eye.  He shuts it quickly, but this time he doesn’t phase out.  The mind keeps some focus.  He thinks of the sound.  The sound that is ringing in his ears, the one that is made out to sound like a friendly little tune.  However, he goes blank again and he shuts his right eye and flutter….

When he regains some of his senses he realizes the sound that he has been hear isn’t a song, or him talking, but rather is a chant. “Sclubbing babbles…dobado cweaning some time fun” His eyes pop open and try to focus but all he could see in front on him was white.  White with reflected light.  His eyes fluttered back shut.  He didn’t want to be awake.  However the goddamn chant wouldn’t let him go.  “Cleaning fime so muck fun.” The chant grew louder and louder each time his eyes shut.  The smell of urine and dirt filled his nostrils.  He sucked his tongue back into his mouth.
“Makes cleaning time some mud pun” again it was louder and his ears couldn’t shut it out.  He tried, he tried to shut his eyes but the white had taken them.  He tried hard, but the smooth white basin, with the round sides, just held his half opened eyes.  He tried to suck his tongue back in his mouth but his motor skills hadn’t fully come to him yet.  His eyes suddenly unfocused and the white faded into black.

“Sckwabbing babbles, dure pti due, makes cleaning fime so much fun.”  What was a fime?
This made no sense. What was a fime?  Sckwabbing?  The eyes flutter back open but the white light is too much.  His eyes can’t focus.  He only sees reflected light of a giant white basin. The urine is still there so that was real.  What the fuck was this goddamn chant. He shut his eyes.

He tried to focus but nothing was to be found.  He heard but couldn’t see.  He couldn’t comprehend.  He knew there was no fime.  He knew that no one was Sckwabbing.   He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did.  No fime.  No Sckwabbing.

His mind tried to race, but couldn’t. He had to know the chant.  He had to know because he could hear it.  He had to know because he was chanting it.   He wasn’t sure how he knew he was. It sounded like it was a thousand miles away. His mind though started to focus and then it hit him, there was no Sckwabbing or fime.  No, no there wasn’t.  There was only.  “Scrubbing Bubbles, your are the one, the one that makes cleaning time so much fun.”

With his realization his eyes popped open and he saw the basin in front of him.  Only basin wasn’t the right word.  No not the right word at all.  It was a base.  A stand.  He slowly turned his head right and saw more of the same white.  However this wasn’t in the same shape. No the shape to the right was much bigger and longer.  He flipped his eyelids open and shut.  Flutter.

Flutter.  When his eyes open again he could hear it clearly now.  “Scrubbing Bubbles, you’re the one that makes cleaning time so much fun.”  When his eyes adjusted this time he saw white, white with a lighter color.  Was lighter the right word? “Scrubbing Bubbles you’re the one….”

His chin was firmly implanted on his chest; he felt a liquid running down.  His eyes open again and he saw a white froth tangled in his chest hairs.  “Make cleaning time so much fun.”  Flutter.  

Flutter.  “Scrubbing Bubbles you’re the one, that makes…” Through the half slits that were his eyes, his head was turned to the left this time.  He could make out wood. Slightly cracked.  It was wood none though.  White to the right, wood on the left where the hell was he.  “Cleaning time so much fun.”  He looked he slowly and it was slowly, turned his head to the right.  The move movement made bile rise in his stomach.  Flutter…

Flutter.  “Scrubbing Bubbles you’re the one the that makes cleaning time so much fun.”  The chant continued in when he was out, it continued while he wasn’t.  He seemed to think the chant never really stopped it was always there.  He could feel the liquid drop from the corner of his mouth.  Where was he?  He tried to turn his head again, but remembered the turn of his stomach so; he decided that he wasn’t going to do that again.  He was always one who learned things the hard way.  However, one lesson was usually enough.  He stared at the white to his right.  His eyes open a little more.  His eyes ran the up and down and he realized the white was very long.  He detected something else to, very faint but there but there.  Was it urine?  Flutter.

Flutter.  When his eyes once again open he smelled piss.  Not fresh piss, but old piss.  Old Piss that had been around for two or three days and not cleaned.  He again was staring at the large white base in front of him.  He could his chest covered in drool. He couldn’t remember where he’d last been.  This was nothing new to him.  He often woke up in strange places.  He’d never woken up to so much white though.  White that hurt, white that hurt the.  Flutter.

Flutter.  “Scurbbing Bubbles you’re the one.  That makes cleaning time so much fun.”  This time when his eyes opened the white blinded him he could feel his mouth moving.  He could feel muscle in his face mouthing the words.  He also focused on the basin in front of him.  He noticed that is was thicker at the bottom than at the top.  Did it round after that?  The question hurt his head.  The chant drummed on its course.  “Scrubbing Bubbles you’re the one.”  Flutter.

When his eyes popped open and they did pop open this time.  He couldn’t believe he was face down.  How many times has he woken up face down on the floor?  Yes, there were lots of times.  Lots of time he would wake up and be faced down, with drool all over.  Yes there were certainly, to many to count.  However, he had never woken to white tile staring at him in the face.  He had never woken up to the smell of old piss. He’d never woken up face down in his bathroom before.  This was truly a first.  He guessed it was bound to happen.

How long?  How long was that a question?  How long?  Had he been face down in piss?  How long?  He didn’t know. All he knew for sure was that he was on the bathroom floor.  He knew he was pretty much hugging the basin.  He knew that if he raised his head straight up then he might very well hit his head on the seat of the john.  He knew these things, but what he didn’t know was how long?  How long had he been on the floor?  How long had he been face down in the bathroom practically spooning the toilette?

Why was a question he knew the answer to as well?  Why wasn’t an issue?  How many times since he’d started to medicate had he found himself in strange places?  Halfway hidden underneath his bed.  Rolled in the living room carpet, like a large human burrito.   Yes, why he knew.  It was his condition.  A half laugh, half cough escaped his throat and he smiled.

Condition?  He thought.  That was rich.  Could you call it that?  Is it really a condition when it is self-imposed?  Perhaps the reason he woke up face down on the floor wasn’t the condition, but the reasons he did what he did to end up on the floor?  Was that a condition? It didn’t matter.  What mattered was that he knew the why.  He woke up in strange places through out his place.  It wasn’t the condition. No it was the medication that did it to him.  Yes, the sweet, sweet medication.  However, the bathroom floor was new.

What he still couldn’t figure out wasn’t the why, or the how.  However, it was the how long.  No matter where his eyes opened.  It was how long.  How fucking had I been there?  How much more time has expired?  He didn’t know.  He never knew.  He would never know and the not knowing is what scratched the record.  It was the not knowing that lead to the skip.  It was the not knowing how long he’d been there that leads him to continue to ask the question.  Ask the question of not why, or how, or who but how long.  It was a question that based in unreason.  He could never answer the question. However the question wouldn’t leave him alone.  How long.  Had it been an hour, a few, a day.  Yes he’d been out for a day before.  The medication sometimes did that.  The sickening feeling after the sweet pain.

How long?  Much like the damn chant, just stayed in his mind.  He could do everything in his power to try and stop them, but he couldn’t.  He had no control over the record player that was his brain.  Especially, after he first regained his sense of being.  He’d once told her “That you can’t possibly imagine the terror that I felt.”  Coming out of the dark.  Coming back into the light.  The terror was real.

With that he shot up.  His head smacked right into the top of the toilette and he quickly found himself face down on the floor again.  This time staring at a yellowish brown spot that had obliviously been the remains of few shakes that went terribly wrong.   Or had he just missed.  Sometimes in the night, he didn’t pay attention; he tried to shoot in the dark. When he did, he often missed.  He seemed to remember he usual hit the trashcan in those situations.  Well, sometimes.

His eyes refocused on his dribbles.  He slithered away from the toilette.  Inched his body slowly back into the hallway.  As he did this he rolled over, so that his back now touched the tile that had so kindly served as his pillow.  He stared up into the popcorn and this time he was able to sit up with out hitting the toilette.

As he raised himself up he had two thoughts.  The first one of course being “How long?”  The second thing he thought about was her.  Was she all right?  What was she doing now?  Had she had him?  What was going to become of her?  

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- Page 158 - 

I ate pizza tonight.  I was good until dinner.  Then I ate three slices and a candy bar.  What is it that I can't even put one good day together.  Lunch was good, breakfast good, dinner not so good.  I felt bad the minute I started eating it.  To make it worse, I had sat in a room for 1 hour with pizza at lunch today and I was so proud that I didn't eat it.  thought a corner had been turned.  I am out of excuses.  Addiction, bad habits, stress, depressed, it doesn't really matter.  Eating what you aren't supposed to is eating what you aren't supposed to.  I guess 2 out 3 three aint bad. tomorrow is another day and I guess and i just have to be more diligent. 

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Book of 2016

- Page 157 - 

I am back in California.  Time to buckle down and get back on the Stanford program and walking routine.  Although I will say it is really, really hot.  makes me wish I would have added the central air I was going to add.  Oh well nothing I can do about that now. Goals for the week starting tomorrow are to get back to 10K steps per week.  Not to eat any foods that aren't on the approved list.  That seems pretty reasonable.

Time to watch the Warriors!  Go Dubs!

Page 154, Page 155, Page 156

Page 154, Page 155, Page 156

The long trip west always starts early in Indiana.  Up at 3:30, showered by 3:50 and on the road by 4 or so...  That's 1 a.m. California time.  Thank god today is a Saturday and I don't have to worry about any urgent work stuff bc my ass is sleeping when I get home.

Daddy was feeling well enough to to ride over to Indy with us today!  He wanted to go so we took him!

I think he slept most of the way over and I would have if I could have.  It's an early day!  He help navigate the way over.  He has a nack to wake up at each city we drove thru and he name the main road then doze again.

It's hard to leave Dad and Mom.  It's been a pretty good trip.  Like most times with families there are ups and downs.  And yes at times our downs always seem to dwarf everyone else's.  I wonder if that is how it is for all families. Dad has made great strides and I hope it keeps up!

Always cool to see the Indy cars in the airport in Indianapolis!  I miss there sounds.  

Ready to get home. Ready to get back to Stanford.  Ready to go!!

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Book of 2016

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There are two people in the world that I know that can pull off the Canadian Tuxedo.  My dad is one and the other will remain nameless at this time.  However, when Doc went to the office today he rocked head to toe denim.  

The Cloffins above in the lead are really, really uncomfortable.  I don't know if cloffins is spelled right or not.  However, my dad always called wooden shoes cloffins.  He said it was german for wooden shoes.  Now google tells me German for Wooden Shoes is actually "Holzschuh"  So, I tried clogs and I got "Verstopfen".  I tried dutch as well and got nothing.  So, I am thinking Cloffin is a Northen Indiana German American word for wooden shoe.  So the question really becomes why in the hell is the fat man wearing wooden shoes?  Or is the question why in the hell would we even have wooden shoes that had Doc written across them.  Well like most things in Terre Haute it has a story.  When I was 21 I was going to live in the Netherlands, home of the wooden shoes.  My Dad told me repeatedly for 5 months that I was going to go get Cloffins in Holland.  My brother Ding got on a kick that I was going to visit a lot of brothels in Holland since it was legal there.  He even started a dance that he would sing and dance too called "Teddy's (b/c he assumed all the ladies in the night wore teddy's) on my head and cloffins on my feet!"  This song like my dad's talking about cloffins went on for 5 or 6 months.  It was danced at  my 21st birthday, Thanksgiving, it was sung and danced at Xmas too!  I am sure if I asked him nicely now he would break out today.  Anyway, when I was living in Europe I found a pair of real wooden shoes.  I both them and had Doc burned into them and gave them to him upon his arrival in the Netherlands.  How did I know that for 19 years him and my mom would use those wooden shoes to go get the news paper every day.  I didn't but they have become a member of the family at this point.  So when Heidi asked me to get in the car and go with her to drop off her girls, and I had no shoes on, I turned to the family shoes the Cloffins.  I didn't do that dance. I didn't need to.  But damn they hurt your feet.  They are all wood.  There is no flex or give in them.  They are after all wooden shoes.  So, whenever we run a quick errand and I might have to get out of the car but most likely not, I throw the cloffins on my feet and we go. 

Tomorrow we are going to see a dr about some alternative therapies for dad.  He says he wants to try out some clinical trials and reach out to Mayo clinic, so I guess we are going to do that.  I think that is at 3 tomorrow.

i really need to take a walk tomorrow. I have been averaging bad steps lately.