THE CHEATING OLD MAN

Friday, November 5, 2010.

A story of fiction by stars.

Cheat not old man,

or yea shall fade away with the creatures of the night.

The Cheating Old Man:

I loved her so much, but I was a ch eaten kinda man. I am sorry I did DAT. I repair shoes for a liven in my tin house. I built it myself with some cheap tin I took off my mule shed. I also used a little bit of plywood, and some two by fours, and borrowed some rusty scrap nails my uncle Johnny gave me. Everybody need shoes. Everybody wears shoes. I get work. I polish um up too , for a quarter sometime thirty cents. I spit shine them for thirty two cents.

I loved my wife so much it hurts. My heart still aches ova her, but I screwed up like a damn fool. I was sit tin in the park minding my own business when a luscious pretty woman come crying next to me on the park bench.

Poor ting she was. She didn't look bad. She looked damn sweet and fine :) I drooled over her, but I did not show it. She cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried about a bucket of tears until her eye makeup ran black streaks sort of like skid marks on a dry asphalt highway.

I should have listened to my dear sweet mother ! Neva dig graves in your own hometown cemetery. My depraved soul hungered for a strange woman that would have a figure like an hour glass. Dis woman melted in my arms like margarine while my buzzard caniving hands just wandered all over her , and that was wrong.

I kissed her most passionately. She kissed me back, and wrapped her arms around me , and we fell off the park bench onto the ground and scared the pigeons away as we embraced out there in open public for everyone to stare at.

She was not a young woman, and I was not a young man , but we had a craved hunger for strangeness in our diets.

She was sad and depressed and weeping because her husband tripped on the sidewalk and broke his leg, and her husband raised hell a lot and was mean to her. And like a nasty prince with nasty on my mind, I kissed her and kissed her and kissed her all over her pretty face, and was touching her everywhere in places I shall not mention.

That was not the worst of it. My wife went looking for me. She do not trust me. I got some age on me. Some people call me and ole man. But I am not old in my heart. In my heart I am like Sir Lance a lot in Camelot. I have good looks. I have muscles. I have bravery. I have passion. I can be sexual. I have hunger for true love deep into my soul that I can not easily wash away with drinks such as water, or ice tea, or by colas or by ales of any kind.

The woman, she had no name. I don't remember any names. Who needs a name ! Only flesh matters, only lust and hunger for passion matters. I made a big mistake.

My wife Buttercup walked accross the street and found me in the park, on the ground hugging and kissing the beautiful strange woman. She screamed bloody murder ,and cursed me all to hell. I got up fast and ran my butt off after Buttercup , but she was younger than me ,and ran as fast as greased lightening away from me screaming like she lost her mind.

When she ran to our house she bolted the door behind her. I begged her to open the miserable door and to forgive me. I told her I felt pain in my chest. She told me to go screw myself like I was some kind of no good monster.

It was cold on the floor by the door. The weather changed, a cold front came in from the north. It must have been thirteen degrees outside her door, and I began to shake like a leaf. I begged her to let me in. I said," Please please please please please please please pretty please with a cherry on top honey, let me in. I am freezing my rocks off outside ! I love you, love you, love you, love you more than the stars, the moon, than Jupitar, Saturn, or all of Heaven above. "

She said, " What do you know about Heaven you old dirty slob ugly stinkin bum. You old cheating grungy flea bitten mule's rump. You are nothing but low life filthy dirty trash, and like dead roaches on my shoes now. You were the love of my life, but you gave your love to that junk in the park. You can just kiss my royal you know what and where."

I begged her even though she had turned the lights out and had gone to bed. I was nervous, and freezing so I went into my little tin shed to repair old work shoes. I turned on the lights. I heated the leather and sewed new soles on old shoes and boots all night long without sleeping until I fell into a deep cold sleep.

In the morning I could not move hardly from my old work chair. My legs were old and tired and were burning with pain. I was shaking uncontrollably and crying for Buttercup. I went back to sleep into a very very very deep sleep. I covered my shoulders with and old flannel shirt, but I was cold as ice, and I never woke up.

Buttercup woke up early as usual. She got up, put on her robe, and fixed herself some hot instant coffee and spread a little margerine on a slice of toast and stirred the creamer that was thick into her coffee until it melted well. She was still very angry. Her spoon made enough racket in her cup to wake up the neighbors as it almost cracked her pretty little cup her sweet mama gave her for her birthday many years ago.

Buttercup was worried about me even though in her nature she tried real hard to deny me and hate me. Buttercup got up, went outside and checked the little tin shed where I was no longer alive. She saw me and tears began to well up into her eyes and she fell on her knees beside me and said, " You damn old fool, old man , why why why why why why did you do that to me you no good bum because my heart is so tired of your kind of crap that wreaked of distrust and dis loyalty. How could you treat me that way when you knew so much and how much I loved you with all my heart too."

Buttercup laid her pretty face on my cold arm. She just laid there and rested and rested and rested and rested and rested and rested until she became at ease and simply no longer woke up anymore either. She died with me.

I did her wrong. I wronged my very heart that I loved so dearly. Our pattern of living was disturbed by elements beyond my old control. Some would say I was like a pig, a no good man, a man that wronged a dear lady, but that's the way nature does us sometimes, and I make no excuses in my coffin in my grave, in my dirt, in my sinners heart. I did her wrong! I would die for Buttercup, but I did her wrong. With the help of a Satan beast from the ages , I lost a battle for my soul.

The grandchildren were at the cemetery. They paid their respects, not knowing what I had done to cause grandma or us to die. The children brought beautiful mums and placed them by our headstones , and the children looked so sweet and neat, and stood so sweet and tall and so straight as the preacher man said nice kind words.

The strange woman in the park went back to her husband who was still abusive. While he was taking a nap, she struck him in the skull with a baseball bat. He woke up and told her that he had a screaming terrible headache. She offered to go and get him two aspirins and a glass of water, and I guess things got better for them after that.

Maybe he put one and one together and did his math and came up with two and figured he ought to not be so abusive or his woman might crack his skull again. Plus the aspirins could have been a lot of help.

The End.