tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952076715921269762012-01-16T21:58:58.603-05:00Here's a story I wrote for my brother, Jackson. He's fine now. I have an idea for another book, I'll write it someday when things settle down. Peace.Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.comBlogger301100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-77394764793242860552007-06-30T11:47:00.016-04:002012-01-16T21:56:36.649-05:00

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Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-48156906656592188742007-06-30T11:18:00.009-04:002012-01-16T21:58:58.820-05:00

“Dude, we’re here. Wake up.”The Kid was riding in the front seat of a taxi with his eyes closed. The Colonel and Eagle Eye were in the back trying to wake him. “Dude, not now. I don’t feel well. It’s really cold.” The Kid was freezing despite the fact the cabbie had the heat cranked. “Dude, what do you mean you’re cold? I don’t want to be here any more than you do. Come on, we gotta get out.

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-24290582608248839622007-06-17T20:19:00.007-04:002011-04-15T23:29:30.363-04:00

The Colonel and the Kid said nothing. Thinks Like Wolf continued.“How happy would you be if you were dirt poor? Do you think people who eat mud are happy and feel well? Of course not. But either way, the fact of the matter is that people choose specific lives because in them there are valuable lessons to learn. Now, does that relieve you of any responsibility to help the poor? They’ve chosen

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-86670015581994514182007-06-17T19:30:00.004-04:002011-04-15T23:29:04.535-04:00

“Listen,” Ratboy urged the Help Desk operator, “we’ve got to figure out why the Emperor’s computer is still frozen. The three techies you sent are sticking around only because they’ve been told to, but I don’t think they’re going to last much longer. They’ve been fired. Any suggestions?”The voice at the Help Desk paused. Ratboy looked over to the Emperor to check on him. He was Indian-wrestling

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-69130057083882549352007-06-17T19:29:00.006-04:002011-04-15T23:28:29.872-04:00

“Ho, I can’t believe it! There they are.”“You got it, boss.” The clean-cut cabbie slid to a stop at the intersection of 7th Avenue and Houston Street. Seneca tried to roll down his window, but it was jammed. He opened the door and stuck his foot into six inches of black, New York ice-sludge. “Dookie!” Seneca called out.Don Duke turned around and saw Seneca. “Oh, no,” Seneca thought.The Duke

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-22610678061319101912007-06-17T19:26:00.013-04:002011-04-15T23:27:52.569-04:00

“Enough!” Thinks Like Wolf couldn’t take anymore of the Colonel’s yammering. He had work to do. “Now, surely you are curious how you can be here. You’re in a ‘time’ much different than that which you consciously know. Sleep, sleep tonight, and in your dreams create life? We shall see. “Now, the landscape here is quite different from your usual surroundings. Yet, you are in virtually the same

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-48535101498855197962007-06-17T19:25:00.008-04:002011-04-15T23:27:15.562-04:00

The three computer technicians with red vests that said “HERE TO HELP!” went to work full-bore on the Emperor’s computer. They wormed their way deep into its system and performed so many diagnostic tests that Ratboy had good reason to wonder why they couldn’t figure out what was wrong. “This is crazy. I don’t know where he is, but when he comes back he’s going to fire us all.” “He may very well

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-5384331536969258672007-06-17T19:21:00.006-04:002011-04-15T23:26:37.865-04:00

Seneca was standing in the middle of Times Square debating whether to go to Penn Station. Did he really want to find Don Duke? He made up his mind and began the shuffle south. It was only ten blocks. Along the way he kept his head on a swivel. Don Duke might be walking around just like he was. Stranger things had happened. It didn’t matter, though, because Seneca didn’t see him on his way to Penn

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-13996654277124465132007-06-17T19:19:00.009-04:002011-04-15T23:26:02.065-04:00

The Kid ran his hand through his hair and shook his head in disbelief. “Can you believe that? Hair. Jesus, Colonel, this is some dream we’re having, huh?”The Colonel grunted. “Dude, you look good. I’m not gay, but you look good for a change.”The Kid felt good, too. His hair was real. After a few more minutes of quiet walking the Colonel asked Eagle Eye where they were going.“We are taking a trip

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-72879603729807252672007-06-17T19:17:00.007-04:002011-04-15T23:25:34.701-04:00

“Me-me-me-me-me!” the Emperor shrieked. “I want to submit it!”“I understand, sir.”The Emperor and Ratboy switched places in front of the computer again.“Ha! Finally!” the Emperor exclaimed. “Tell me what I need to do, fool.”Ratboy pulled his ear. The Emperor clearly didn’t have a lot of experience with computers. “Uh, just click the ‘Submit’ button, sir.”“Of course, you moron! Ha-ha-ha! I knew

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-10642364856101276152007-06-17T19:15:00.008-04:002011-04-15T23:24:14.671-04:00

“Don Duke, if you want to know more about me, that’s fine. I’m an open book. What can I tell you?” There was about a gallon of steak juice on the Duke’s plate, and he was sopping up it up with a fresh stack of toast. “Well, isn’t that something? You really have decided to show up, haven’t you? Isn’t that something? ISN’T THAT SOMETHING. Gee, I wonder what it was. Maybe a little regret? If that’s

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-57276640635251404092007-06-16T18:10:00.008-04:002011-04-15T23:23:47.373-04:00

The Kid shuddered as he stood on top of the huge stone pylon. He was doing his best to avoid Eagle Eyes’ magnetic eyes. They were too intense. He didn’t want her to know he saw so much power in them. He was embarrassed. He’d lost control emotionally and was fighting hard to hide it. “Too much,” he thought, “I’ve got to sit down.” He was cold and tired and felt dizzy.The Kid started to sit but

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-70379374913662887532007-06-16T18:06:00.006-04:002011-04-15T23:22:27.200-04:00

“Call the Help Desk? Ratburp, that’s an excellent idea. I’m glad I thought of it.” The Emperor zeroed in on the big desk at the back of the basement and grabbed the telephone receiver from Ratboy. “Ha-ha-ha!” he cried into the phone. “This is the Emperor of the Institute of Maliciousness and Bureaucracy speaking. Who is this?”“Oh hello, sir,” a voice said. “This is the Help Desk. How can I help?”

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-56133206122551929272007-06-16T17:55:00.006-04:002011-04-15T23:21:11.654-04:00

Seneca Nation didn’t have to wait long before he heard back from The Occupation and Company. The knock on his window startled him, but he really wasn't that surprised when he jerked up in bed and saw Banjaxed Betty, Dirty Nelly, and Lone Pine the Knight standing on his fire escape. It was the middle of the night and he had visitors again.“What are you people trying to do to me?” he snapped

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-1763950432135239082007-06-16T17:50:00.006-04:002011-04-15T23:20:32.904-04:00

The Kid was sprawled out on the floor beside the bed the Colonel was in. The room was cold and he needed to stay warm. He had no hair on his body and his immune system was dangerously weak. He pulled a blanket over his head and closed his eyes.The Kid had a lot to think about. He wondered what it was with his friend that made him see what he claimed he saw. He also wondered why Eagle Eye was so

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-59093283925026296662007-06-16T17:45:00.009-04:002011-04-15T23:18:47.697-04:00

“Ha-ha-ha! Noooooooooo!” the Emperor cried. “Everyone shut up this instant! Listen: I’m in charge here and if something should ever happen to me you should refer to the Official Policies and Procedures for strict direction. Is that clear? Good. Now, Ratturd, you will not speak another word while in my presence. I’ve had e—” Something clicked in the Emperor’s head and he stopped abruptly. He knew

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-6935796709403108612007-06-16T17:40:00.009-04:002011-04-15T23:18:15.158-04:00

It was the middle of the night and there was work to do. Seneca Nation wanted answers, and he didn’t have time to screw around finding them. Knowing Banjaxed Betty knew little more than he did made the walk over to the Townhouse from Hell even less tolerable than it otherwise should have been. Along the way Seneca had a notion to find out why Betty had ditched him earlier in the passageway, but

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-54711046866158891552007-06-16T08:21:00.010-04:002011-04-15T23:17:46.588-04:00

Eagle Eye returned with the top button of her buckskin jacket unbuttoned. The Kid noticed she was wearing a bear-claw necklace as she sat down. “So Colonel, where were we? You were about to tell me what worlds you see?” The Buckskin Beauty, Eagle Eye, was interested in what the Colonel had to say. “Yep, I was about to tell you that.”“So then?”The Colonel paused. He looked apprehensive. “Well, I

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-44304841264201520692007-06-16T08:14:00.012-04:002011-04-15T23:16:59.665-04:00

The Emperor of Maliciousness and Bureaucracy was doubled-over laughing again, this time at the idea of spreading his own version of doom and gloom to who knows how many unsuspecting New Yorkers. “What have I gotten myself mixed up with?” Ratboy worried. “Who is this maniac?” And as he watched the Emperor laugh his horrible laugh, he was startled to realize that the basement he was sitting in had

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-23573368916307785322007-06-16T07:28:00.010-04:002011-04-15T23:16:28.567-04:00

What a relief. Seneca was home. It was late afternoon already, though he wasn’t exactly sure what day it was. He had no desire to piece together the events leading up to his current B.L.T.-induced coma. Parked on his couch, he was trying to control the outcome of a New York Rangers hockey game when the phone rang.“Fatty, where have you been?” “Hola Blink.”“Hello there, Fatty…”“Blink…” The

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-23285898409240364852007-06-16T07:22:00.015-04:002011-04-15T23:15:47.728-04:00

The Kid listened to the bearded madman standing in front of him, doing his best to reconcile the words he was hearing with what he knew: the Colonel was nuts. He had no more idea about New York and it’s labyrinths than the floor he was standing on. The Colonel went on. “It’s like that time right before you were going to move and I knew it.” The emotion in his voice was high and the skin around

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-139481500995690942007-06-16T07:18:00.011-04:002011-04-15T23:14:42.676-04:00

“Again, sir, quite right, but you did hire us to do a job.” Ratboy still wasn’t clear on what the Emperor of Maliciousness and Bureaucracy wanted the interns to do. He was worried that in his haste the Emperor was going to fire them and hire Ph.D.s instead.“Of course I hired you to do a job! Do you think you need to remind me of that constantly?”“Not especially, sir. It’s just a bit strange that

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-68441750592511779772007-06-16T07:12:00.010-04:002011-04-15T23:14:13.185-04:00

It only took a moment for Seneca Nation’s eyes to adjust to the flickering orange light from the enormous chandeliers high above him. He was standing in the center of a massive rectangular hall that had the stony, centuries-old feel of a Gothic church. Looking around now, to his left and right, Seneca saw the snare drummers. There must have been a row of twenty of them standing in two lines on

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-4106443682480627292007-06-16T07:04:00.012-04:002011-04-15T23:13:38.223-04:00

“…Kid, please pick up a red courtesy phone, Kid from Little Rock…”The Kid had heard his name paged several times before he decided to call his old man and explain that he was fine. His dad thought he was crazy.“LIKE HECK YOU’RE FINE. YOU’RE NOT WELL YET.”“Dad, I’m in Atlanta and I’m going to meet the Colonel. I just left him a message. You remember the Colonel?”“Of course. How could I forget?”The

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-15726690786515257512007-06-16T06:25:00.011-04:002011-04-15T23:13:07.049-04:00

Undeterred, Ratboy pressed on. “It’s not clear, sir, what our job is. Perhaps you could explain what you have in mind?” Ratboy was now slumped so far down in the chair behind his desk that it wasn’t clear if he was on the floor or not.“Ha!” the Emperor sputtered. “Of course nothing is clear. Ha-ha-ha!”Ratboy raised an eyebrow and pulled his mouth down. “Seriously, sir. Will we find out what this

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-45782122753121027962007-06-16T06:22:00.012-04:002011-04-17T10:29:06.372-04:00

Seneca Nation was in bad shape, he knew it. But, rather than continue to panic, he decided to take his winter coat, sweatshirt, and dungarees off. They were weighing him down just like his boots had been. Then he curled up in a ball like he’d learned in water safety class as a kid. He pulled his knees up to his chest and locked his forearms around them. That way he could turn his head to the side

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-82406902796592479192007-06-16T05:57:00.017-04:002011-04-17T10:24:02.469-04:00

Christmas came and went in the hospital, and the Kid was happy his mom and dad were there with him. Loneliness was at the top of his list of things to avoid. He’d been running away from it for quite some time, but no matter where he went it had continued to dog him. He’d been a bit of a loner in grade school and then again in high school. Sure he’d had plenty of friends, plenty of people he was

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-80462276540201836472007-06-12T21:12:00.013-04:002011-04-15T23:08:47.605-04:00

“We work on the West Side because it’s evil over here. …Now, shut up!” The Emperor of Maliciousness and Bureaucracy was unraveling. Fearing the worst, he began to cackle uncontrollably. “Ha-ha-ha!” the Emperor cackled, trying to hide his anxiousness. He was losing control, and as he did the interns stared at him. They couldn’t help but wonder what he, the Emperor of Maliciousness and Bureaucracy,

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-90715725816195881502007-06-12T21:05:00.011-04:002011-04-15T23:08:05.614-04:00

“Hello?”It was 3 a.m. Saturday morning and Seneca Nation was sitting up in bed, shivering. The far window was open and his blinds were banging against the potted plant on the windowsill. Snow was blowing onto the floor and his bedroom was freezing. It was the middle of the night and he was freaked out. “Jesus Christ, who opened the window?” he thought to himself, straining to adjust to the dark.

Barnacle Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12908903056053419959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-695207671592126976.post-78449725844316442992007-06-12T20:28:00.020-04:002011-04-15T23:07:03.662-04:00

“Kid, honeybunny, aren’t you hungry? It’s after nine o’clock. Eat your chicken for me, please, so I can go home.” The Kid was in no mood to eat. Earlier that day he’d been given a big dose of methotextrate to kill the cancer that was eating a hole in his jaw. He didn’t understand why he was sick, and he was exhausted. So, rather than acknowledge his mom, he closed his eyes to get some rest.“KID!”

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