Linda comes back in with the tape and pops it in the VCR. You sit down as the opening credits to “Who’s The Boss?” begins to roll.
Linda explains, as she fast forwards, “Its the the episode where Tony and Angela have a couple of drinks and end up kissing.” She hits play. And yep, there’s Tony & Angela, throwing flour at one another in the kitchen, chasing each other, they end up in each others arms and passionately kiss.
Then they stop and both look directly into the camera and chant…
“Mr. Chief Billy - Mr. Chief Billy - Mr. Chief Billy”
Now you see an image of an older black man with a mustache. As you look at him, his eyes became large and soft - like a gentle sad monster of sorts. The man smiles and says lovingly, “My Dear, everyone cares… but nobody knows” and its strange you almost feel as if this man is God or something? As you watch him smiling at you, forgeting all the madness and stress in your life. Then part of the mans mustache morphs into a large colorful moth that seems to flutter out of the TV screen. Slowly, the moth floats towards you, turning into a kind of liquid that swims into your mouth. Oddly enough you don’t panic, for it seems like a dream. You feel a healing light as if being filled with love. You open your eyes and the mans face is now decomposing into a skull and he whispers. “There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of.”
The TV goes dark and you sit in silence for a bit.
Linda whispers, “Did you?”
“Yeah,” you exhale, “The old man, the mustache, the butterfly and skull…”
“Oh thank God!” Linda cries, “I thought I was going nuts! I dunno what or who but it came 3 days ago in a plain envelope. The only clue is the return address, in Hermosa Beach, maybe you could stop there after you stop in El Sugundo?”
You nod absently and take the envelope and the shoebox of money. You hug Linda goodbye and tell her you will call later or if you see Frank. You get in your old Trans-Am and back out of the driveway.
Do you go to the
or
Do you decide to
.
****reblogged pic from dirtygondola - Atlas Moth-pic by Keith Carter