O l i v e r B e n j a m i n
ostentatious novelty.”
“It’s busted, man.”
For a moment there was an uncomfortable pause as both men
listened to the damaged door creak at every bump in the road.
“You were going to shoot somebody, weren’t you?” said Harvey,
finally.
“Shoot somebody? Oh, right,” he said, relieved by the fat white
guy’s ignorance of the situation. “No way. I just thought I ought to be
protected in case someone attacked me. I’m a
lover
, man, not a
killer.” He handed Harvey the gun. “Here man, why don’t you put
your fingerpr— I mean, why don’t you put your hands on it. It’s a
cherry little
pistola
. Check it
out
.”
Harvey held the pistol gingerly. Had he owned such an item, he
almost surely would have used it on himself by now. For the first time
in many days, however, he felt as if he might be able to go on living.
Ironic, he thought, that it would take being robbed of all his
possessions and hitchhiking in the middle of the desert with a half-
wit degenerate and his mobile brothel to help cure his ills. Maybe, he
reasoned, it was as if he was completely erasing his life and giving
himself the opportunity to start over. In any event, things seemed to
be looking up.
Harvey woke up an indeterminate amount of time later. The
landscape had not changed much, but, he had a feeling that they had
been driving for quite a while. Perhaps it was the angle of the sun in
the sky.
“Where in God’s name are we going? Mexico?”
“Oh, yeah. Right. See there’s this famous medicine man I heard
about who lives out here. They say he’s got the best medicine around,
if you know what I mean. Peyote buttons, San Pedro cactus, shrooms,
you name it. Only thing is, I can’t seem to find his place. Supposedly
you can’t miss it. He’s out here all alone.”
“What? Why don’t you stop and look in a phone book?”
“I don’t think a guy named Dreamwalker is gonna be in the
phone book.”
“Listen!” cried Harvey. “I’ve got important things to do! The first
of which is to notify the authorities that my automobile has been
stolen. I order you to take me to the nearest police station at once you
little hoodlum, else I pour your jailbait-bait of Irish creme into the
orifice of your cassette player!”
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