Friday, October 11, 2013

A visit to the sublime Owl Cafe!

 from Chapter Eight of Dangerous Rabbits (In Albuquerque)


Pretty soon we were in the parking lot of the Owl Café. She was looking at the place. It is one story but with a large sculptured bust of an owl on the top.  She was staring up at the owl's head. "I thought it was a cat," she said. "At first."

"No," I said. "It's an owl. Pure and simple."

We went inside and were seated in the booth. The Owl Café has a serious '50s vibe to it, like an old time malt shop.  "It's …it's different," she said, looking about her, not quite certain about things.

"The Owl's kind of an old New Mexican institution," I told her. "The original was down in San Antonio, which is a little town south of here. Not too far from the Trinity Crater, where they had the first A-Bomb test…but that's another story. Anyway, they opened up a branch here in Albuquerque and its been a huge success ever since."

She looked at the menu. "Any suggestions?"

"Go with the green chili cheeseburger," I told her. "You can never go wrong with the Owl's cheeseburgers."

The meals came and we ate in silence. I had just finished when I glanced up and saw her looking at me. I smiled.

"Who are you, anyway?" she asked.

"What?"

"It just hit me. I don't know anything about you. Nothing. You live in that horrible little apartment. You don't have any money. But you know all this stuff."

"Ah,"

"So, again, who are you?"

"Just me. A little man on the edges of things."

"No you don’t. More. Do you have a family?"

"No. Did at one time. What's the line in the Great Gatsby? All dead now."

"I see. And where did you grow up?"

"Here and there. Mostly in the west. Spent a summer in New York State."

"And where did you go to school?"

"Oh, one place and another. I moved around a lot."

"Christ. You're harder to read than a Physics textbook."

"Sorry."

She leaned forward. "Let's try another way. Who was your mother?"

"Very nice lady. "

Liar, Sam hissed.

"Very nice lady," I repeated. "Didn't see her much, though."

"Why not."

"Like I say, nice person, but she decided she wasn't good at being a mom. I understood entirely."

"So your father was a single dad? Looked after you?"

"Ah, no. Also nice person."

Bullshit...Sam said.

"But, he decided he wasn't good at parenting either. Probably wise."

"So who raised you?"

"Grandmother. Mother's mother. And her boyfriends."

"Boyfriends. Plural? And are you going to tell me they were nice people, too?"

"Would you like dessert?" I asked. "Or coffee?"

"For shit's sake," she said, exasperated ...


So I'm told I have to have a blog

Hello, everyone,

So I'm told by the tyrants ...er, editors at Belfort and Bastion (just kidding guys...and gals) that I have to have a blog. Ergo, here it is.

Anyway, I'm glad to meet you. And my first book (with B&B) is Dangerous Rabbits (In Albuquerque), the tale of a man, a woman, and a giant white rabbit.

Or, at least that's what they tell me. But, what da heck do I know? I just wrote the dang thing :-)



             http://www.amazon.com/Dangerous-Rabbits-In-Albuquerque-ebook/dp/B00FPXQZZ6/