Saturday, November 13, 2021

A Few Minutes Past Midnight by Stuart M. Kaminsky ((Mysterious Press 2001)

 


The sunshine was gone again. The sky was gray. It looked like rain in Pershing Square but the small park was packed with people on benches eating their lunch out of paper bags, strollers, and servicemen on leave wandering through the city. Plus the regulars.

The regulars were there. Along with those passing out leaflets on everything from the dangers of drinking beer to the need for a wall along the coast to keep the Japanese from landing, they stood on wooden boxes or overturned trash cans. They insulted the crowd or tried to get those gathered around them to accept Jesus, the end of the world, the promise of Communism, the need for universal celibacy, the dangers of Communism, the threat of organized religion, and the necessary preparations for the brave new world coming after the war.

My favorite over the years had been Gibberish Dave who had come every day for almost two years. Dave had a dark, dirty beard and always wore a ragged suit and a variety of dirt-stained shirts. Dave needed dental work. Shelly had volunteered. I was there. Two years ago.

“I’ll take care of your teeth for nothing,” Shelly had said. “I’ve got some experimental procedures I’d like to try. What do you say?”

“I say, I say, I say,” Dave had sputtered and spat. “I say refurbishing is not always the answer. The stars hold the answers, but the stars don’t speak in words. They speak in codes, blinking. Nazi astronomers understand the code. They’re using the code. Notebooks are full of drawings by Leonardo da Vinci and Pope Leopold the Second and Dennis Day. If we don’t wake up, we’ll all keep sleeping.”

“And eating,” said Shelly. “But not with those teeth.”

“Teeth that bite are bilious,” Dave whispered.

“Here’s my card,” Shelly had said, handing Dave a card. “Come see me.

“Soup and steak?” asked Dave.

“Tuna sandwich and Pepsi,” said Shelly.

Dave never took Shelly up on his offer, but week after week, Dave kept coming to Pershing, losing a tooth now and then, making less sense each time I heard him until one day, I began to think I understood him. That’s when I stopped listening.




No comments: