The Unwelcome Guest Plus Nin and Nan (9 page)

Shall not the way of the shepherd be but a tree in the ocean? A lone shepherd, flock before him, stands on a hillside and sees something interesting.

Oh, I see—a well-placed rocket grenade and even his dog won't be able to tell anyone anything.
Maybe he can be reasoned with. Unlikely, but I should never overlook that possibility.
They stopped at a diner for dinner.
Sam lifted his knife from his Salisbury steak and gestured with it. "The shepherd could be anywhere in a twenty-mile radius, I figure," he said.
"Oh, spare me," said Nin at the same instant that Sam's grand gesture signifying a twenty-mile square led his hand into contact with Nan's nose. The knife scratched Nan's cheek.
"Ow!" said Nan. "I said, 'spare me,' not 'spear me,' you clod!"
"Well, at least you get my point," said Sam."
"Let me look at that," said Nin, examining the cut. "Oh, that's not even deep enough to rub salt into for a good fencing scar. Now, come one. Listen to Brother Sam."
"Well, when I met him," said Sam, "he said he'd just come from the eastern edge of his sheep's run, where the large pond over by you is."
"It's a small lake," said Nin, "and it only touches on the edge of our area."
"Whatever. That's where he saw you. And he's old, so he's not going to graze his sheep over an endless expanse."
"Okay."
"And everyone knows that shepherds graze the sheep between a water hole at one end and a salt lick at the other—"
"So all we have to do," interrupted Nin, "is find where the nearest salt lick is, and we can define the grazing grounds!"
"I think that's how that works."
"I hope you're right," said Nan.
"Oh, ye of little faith," said Nin. "Trust me. We'll find him."
Nan looked out the window at the parking lot. A salmon Stingray was at one end and a white Pathfinder at the other. The street signs identified the restaurant as located on Morton Street between Pickles and Lam. A blue Barracuda was cruising the lot. Abruptly, the driver switched the Barracuda into reverse and backed into a stall without ever looking behind. Unfortunately a refried-bean-colored Pinto was already in that stall and exploded when the Barracuda slammed into its infamous and exposed rearmounted gas tank. Refried-bean-colored crap blew all over the place. Someone with overalls and firefighter boots showed up with a shovel to clean up the mess.
"Nan!" Nan became conscious of the fact that Nin had been saying 'Nan!' for a few minutes. Seconds?
"What?" snapped Nan, not wanting to lose the reverie.
"Nothing. The waiter wants to know if you want another beer. Duh."
Nan looked up. Sure enough, the waiter was standing there expectantly.
"Bring me a Colt 45," snarled Nan, remembering a movie title:
They Shoot Horses, Don't They?
They Shoot Horses, Don't They?
ounce can arrived at the table, Nan asked to borrow the waiter's pen.
Nan turned the beer upside down and slammed the pen tip through the bottom of the can, puncturing a neat round hole in it. Nan began sucking the beer out of the hole while turning the can rightside up and popping the top. The entire contents of the 24-ounce beer flew down Nan's gullet so fast that a bunch of it came out through Nan's nose. Nan's eyes watered, but, shaking it off, Nan snorted and said, "Now, what were you saying, Nin?"
"Sam was saying that the old shepherd's a crook," said Nin, which was enough for Nan, whose instant guffaw brought all the beer back up over the table.
Nin got up and got some bar rags and threw them at Nan. "Here, pig. Clean up your mess." And Nin and Sam changed tables.
The Emperor came on the television and began to speak:
"I'd like to respond to the recent outbursts that occurred at my appearance at the Stampeded Antelope resort. Those responsible will be brought to justice and, I swear, will not be misapprehended. Those who resort thus are declared enemies of the state, and their deeds will not go unattended. They will be tried, true, and convicted upon sentencing to corporal punishment of the worst kind when we find them. Let this be a lesson to those who would defrock their Emperor! Thus have I spaken!"
"Holy crap. Did he just declare tourist resorts illegal?" asked Sam. Nan wiped up the beer at the next table.
"I don't know what the hell he said," replied Nin, shrugging. "Does
he
even know?"
"No—he just tried to read those cue cards."
"Well, I hope he gives his son some acting lessons. We can't have an Emperor acting like this."
"No," chuckled Sam. "We can't. Maybe, after we find the shepherd, we could do something to help." He winked at Nin.
"Yeah. Maybe."
While wiping the next table, Nin noticed a fellow at the table on the other side of Nin and Sam paying undue attention to the conversation. "Nin. Sam. Shh! Taximeter cabriolets have auditory capabilities," Nan said.
Sam and Nin turned and looked at the man, who immediately hid behind a menu.
"All I know," said Sam, "is that anyone eavesdropping will be sorry."
"That's for sure," rejoindered Nin. The man buried himself even deeper in the menu. "An eavesdropper is like a peeping Tom. And you know what happens to them."
"The Emperor's dungeon, if he's lucky. But I heard they're usually beaten to death on the way." The waiter went to the man's table.
"They're stoned by the crowd lining the streets to the dungeon." The man asked if the restaurant served squab.
"Unless they're maimed for life by those they've wronged, who, of course, get the first shot." The waiter shook his head. The man, feigning indignation, stood up, turned and hurried out of the restaurant.
"I guess the restaurant doesn't serve stool pigeons," said Sam, laughing.
"Or any other kind," said Nin, laughing along. Nan, finished with the wiping, tossed the rag onto the table and rejoined the two.
"Now, that wasn't necessary," said Nan, grinning.
"
Au contraire
," said Nin. "
Au contraire
."
"Well, we'd better move along," said Sam, "in case that was someone." They dropped a tip onto the table and went out into the parking lot just in time to see their neighbor speed off in a cream-colored Dodge Ram.
"After him?" asked Nan.
"No. We don't have the time," said Nin.
"Guys," said Sam. "I just remembered where I'd seen that guy. He seemed so familiar. And younger. But I'm pretty sure, without his wild white hair and long beard, that was our shepherd. He's gone incognito. He knows we're onto him! Quick! Into the Batmobile!"
"I thought it was a three-quarter ton Bonaventure."
"Okay. The Samobile!"
"Yeah."
By the time they were all settled into their seatbelts, the Ram was long gone.
"Nin?"
"Yes, Nan?"
"Did you see the direction he left in?"
"No. We were busy buckling up."
"No problem, gang," said Sam. "It's all one-ways from here. He could have only gone one way." Nin noticed the construction detour signs ahead.
"Too bad we don't have something that corners," said Nan.
"Hold on," said Sam, flooring the accelerator. The afterburners kicked in as the van switched to turbo. It lifted up onto its two hind wheels and took off.
"If he's hungry, he's going to be stopping at a restaurant soon," said Nan. "Did he stop to eat, or to spy on us?" asked Nin.
"I think that must have been a coincidence," said Sam. "And when he saw me with you, he must have assumed that the song was my using him for a chump."
"So he's figuring you gave him the song to distract him while you collected us for the bounty," said Nan.
"Otherwise he would have known the bounty is on all our heads and would have tried to collect us himself," said Sam.
"He's too little to get all three of us," said Sam.
"Not if he had his pals Smith and Wesson with him, replied Sam.
"So we can assume he's not out to collect us," said Nin.
"True," replied Sam. But he might sell us out to the highest bidder."
"Crud! How did we get into this in the first place? Nin, it's all your fault. Opening doors to strangers. What were you thinking?"
"Actually, I did us a favor. The shepherd had already seen us, remember? He could have gone to turn us in and we'd never have known until the ATF showed up." "True."
"You can kiss my feet now in gratitude."
"Not until you've been defeated," said Nan.
"Then you're going to have a long wait," replied Nin, "because we're not going to lose."
"Up here is another restaurant. Cruise the parking lot. Look for the Ram," ordered Sam.
They came upon the Crow Bar cautiously. The parking lot and an automobile wrecker stood side-by-side with a barbed-wire fence separating them, and one couldn't tell the cars belonging to one from those belonging to the other. Sam thought he spotted a Ram inside the wrecker's yard and said the wrecker might be in cahoots with the shepherd.
When they walked into the place, the entire joint was watching the TV and singing along the "My Beloved Emperor," the song preceding all ball games and Emperor's Addresses.
The patrons looked like mostly employees from next door: automotive coveralls were
de rigueur
. Some of them had to dry their eyes after declaring their fealty. A royalist crowd, to say the least.
The speech began:
"My citizens," began the Emperor, nose neat and trimmed short. "I stand before you because we cannot stand for any terrorist activity in our land."
"Yeah, and because you can't sit," laughed Nin.
"The terrorists need to resort their priorities and should only uphold the sort that is not traitorous."
"Huh? Oh, make him stop already, Nin."
"Shh!" Sam whispered. "Royalists! Sit here!" He sat down and abruptly pulled Nin and Nan down into a booth facing the giant screen face of Pinocchibush. "Copy their movements!"
When the patrons dropped to their knees, so did Nin, Nan and Sam. When the patrons swooned, so did Nin, Nan and Sam. When the patrons cheered, so did Nin, Nan and Sam. Well, maybe not Nan, who instinctively suspected any synchronized activity. But, even without being fully convinced, even Nan played along.
The speech droned on. "And so henceforth we shall seek death for all international terriers that try to get in our way!"
A couple of dog owners got up and hurried out of the place.
"Only terriers?" asked a reporter.
"Them and all those beasts that support them."
A few more pet owners got up, and among them was the shepherd. He hadn't noticed Nin, Nan and Sam.
What was really unfortunate was that this was the very weekend the World Terrier Championships were being held in the city. Dogs all over the place started acting strange. The terriers were being hunted. Sometimes packs of mongrels would turn them in.
The Emperor's popularity ebbed, especially in the new territory, but one would never have known that in the Crow Bar. Heck, that crappy Bruce Springsteen song "Born in the USA" was even playing on the jukebox.
"The Way of US or the Way of None!" read a biker's bottomrocker.
"Um, Nin?"
"Yes, Nan?"
"Did you see the direction he left in?"
"Don't worry. If he's hungry, he's going to be stopping at a restaurant soon," said Nin.
"That's right!" said Nan, relieved.

"That's ridiculous, Nan," said Nin. "Superstitious hogwash."
"Like you'd know."
"Stop it, you two," intervened Sam. "It's bad when I have to be the mature one here. I'm a musician, damn it!"
"Wait! There's a flaw in the ointment!" interjected Nan.
"Meaning a fly?" interpreted Nin.
"Cut it out, you two," intercepted Sam. "I mean it. Or I'll have to intra-duce you two to my two dukes," he said, holding up a suspiciously-not-so-frail-looking pair of fists.
At this rate, by the time dinner's over, we'll have been to a dozen restaurants and Sam will be as large as
a bounty hunter? thought Nan.
or worse, thought Nin.
What's worse?
A stooge for the machine.
"And what evidence have ye?"
"Empirical, of course."
"Hey, guys," said Sam. "I know her," pointing to a corner table inside the Third Eye.
"That's a table, Sam."
"No—the woman who was sitting there a minute ago."
"Who?"
"You didn't notice her?"
"Not really, Sam. I'm not here to score with the Chicks of the System. We're here to get that shepherd."
"Don't worry. We got him. This time I got his distributor cap."
"If you had the right car."
"Of course I had the right car! Who do you take me for? A Pinocchibushy?"
"Okay. So he's here somewhere. This is a huge place."
"Well, duh. It's a casino."
They walked past an old patron at a slot machine who was so heavy into her addiction that she'd forgotten herself and had soiled her pants. Badly. One employee walked over to help, but a manager stopped him. "Not until she's finished betting, son. Then you can go get a mop and bucket since you want to be so 'helpful.'" And thank her for coming to Pinocchibushoil Casino, "where every handshake is greezy!"
They walked over to a roulette wheel looking for shoeblack.
The crap tables stank. Madam Comnist walked over to Sam, whispered in his ear, and took off.
"What was that?" asked Nan.
"Nothing. I couldn't even understand her. Nin, do you have a pen?"
"We're staying?"
"Let me just say I think I got us a room."
"Sam, you're okay," said Nin.
"We'll see," said Nan. Muttering.
"What?"
"Nothing. Sounds great." For you. I'll be left without a friend.
"Beth, here, will be your friend tonight, Nan."
"Cool. Hey, Beth. What's your favorite rock and roll band?"
"Ew. Maybe, oh, the Beatles!"
"Good answer. Okay. Now we've got something to talk about!"
Nin and Nan went up to the room, 369, just as they had said they would. And the room was open just as Beth had said. Unfortunately, Beth wasn't in it. That was sarcastic. Beth had to score some crank. But she had a room. And room service! Neither champagne nor caviar was too good for Beth!
"Get the Dom Perignon and make sure that's 100% Caspian Sea black sturgeon caviar."
"You got it! Thanks, Beth! Wherever you are! Hey, aren't we supposed to be looking for the shepherd?"
"No. That's Sam's job. We're just supposed to get drunk and pass out."
"Oh," and they did. The TV woke them. It came on automatically at 3:30 a.m. to share an urgent message from His Highness.
"But first a word from our sponsor, Makil Health Care. Now that Asian Bird Flu has been found in poultry in Turkey, protect yourself with a Makil flu shot. Payable in easy monthly installments of $29.95!"
"How did the poultry get eaten by turkeys?" asked Nan. "Are turkeys cannibalistic?"
"I don't know. Shh! Our illustrious leader is about to speak."
"Nothing up my sleeve. Presto!"
"Shush!"
"Maybe it's just the sick ones. Like those mad cows that were going around eating sheep."
"Don't tell that to the shepherd until we've caught him."
"Maybe we should disguise ourselves as a mad cow!"
"Oh, hush. Listen."
"And now! Live from the Empire City, His Highness!" Canned applause.
"Good evening, My Subjects. I have been told by my advisors that some of you have tried and failed and have deconstrued incorrectly what my earlier states meant, er, statements, er, meant. If you have assumed I have leveled a permanent ban on resorts and terriers, you have misapprehended me incorrectly. Though we need to guard against terriers' activities in our resorts, I of course am not suggesting we close our hostilitality industries. But let me not allay your fears one more second—every dog has his day.
"Now is not the time to take the streets in protest—"
Nin and Nan exchanged a glance.
We
took a street.
"Now is the time to reclaim the streets in the name of the Empire. Streetwashers, stop washing. Streetwalkers, stop walking. Give back what has always belonged to the people. The streets, sidewalks, and the gutter.
"Thus have I spaken!"
Man, though Nin. He just condemned the commoner to the gutter. If
that
doesn't stir them up, what will?
And the station broadcast the Makil Health Care advertisement again. People walking down the street, albatrosses on their backs, turn into the Makil Health Care Center, then come out a revolving door, sans albatross. Wait! One of those people! It's the shepherd. He goes in, but he never comes out. He didn't have an albatross on his back. Almost as if he'd just coincidentally decided to enter the building there just then. Of course, accidents don't exist, chaos doesn't exist. William Burroughs said that if you ever think chaos exists, look to see if anyone's profiting by it. Sure enough, someone will be, and you'll realize that chaos does not really exist. Nan was lost in thought.
"Did you see that?" asked Sam.
"That was the shepherd?"
"I think so."
"Nan? Did you see it?"
"Huh? What?"
"The shepherd going into that building."
"What? Oh, the shepherd. Where?"
"That was the Makil Health Care Center."
"Graceless," said Nan.
"Gracious," corrected Nin. Nan scowled.
"Graceless," repeated Nan, with emphasis.
"That's the first target, kids," said Sam.
"We're short, not young," replied Nan indignantly.
"It's designed as a huge cross, each wing dedicated to one speciality: hysterectomy, tonsillectomy, circumcision, and cosmetic surgery."
"How do you know that?"
"TV commercials, Holmes. Like everyone else."
"Which one do you think our shepherd would be involved with, do you suppose?"
"I suppose stockings. I don't know. What does he prefer: playing with his mouth, playing with his pud, playing with his neighbor's toys, or conceptualizing bodily perfection?"
Tough question. I don't even know if I could tell you for myself, even less for someone else.
Yes, that's me! "Even Less For Someone Else." Nin looked at Nan, who was falling asleep. I hope Beth has a sense of humor. Better order some more Dommy P. before she gets back. She's not likely to order it herself. Oh, well. She thought Nan was cute and I was clever. Madam Comnist knew them. From years ago. We don't talk about it. It's over and done with. It's in the pond in the park, and ducks down to use it.
Ducks drown to use it.