Pleas to the Pleiades
Chapter 2: STORIES ON A LONG JOURNEY

After another month, Osha was getting really bored with the long strange trip. It was like a jail sentence to travel for several months. Captain Quirk and Conductor Makende were the only ones besides him who were staying awake much. All the other passengers were way sedated, even the other Loonies.

The ship EMME was in no-grav phase. Osha floated himself forward to the bridge.

“Ah, Yeoman Osha, Makende and I are awake, and you make three. Guess what? I’ve got a little brack juice I’ve been saving for this occasion. It doesn’t really get you drunk, but it does make you feel good.”

“I’ve heard about the legendary brack juice. Brewed in Scotland, from berries and agar moss. But what is the special occasion?”

“Well, it’s midway point on our trip, and to top that, it’s my birthday! Thing is, that’s really funny, since you taught me how to harmonize, I don’t know how old I am anymore!” Quirk and Makende laughed.

“Happy birthday, Captain!” said Osha, as he gladly accepted the pouring of the dark reddish-grey herbal liquid. “A toast to you and your youth! But hey, don’t harmonize too much. It’ll put you back in the womb.”

“Ha! And hail!” Quirk gestured toward the views of the cosmos. “Look at that! Since we head in a race toward the place in the lace of space where Mars will be in another six weeks, and away from where Earth and Moon were, we can now see both of them out opposite sides of the view! I’m in a gall-durned good mood! This is good viewing! Earth and Moon like a piece of jewellery, a sapphire and a pearl. On the other side, Mars like some kind of angry copper-gold drop of metal, or maybe a topaz. Jupiter and Venus lookin’ good too. Gotta warn ya, Osha, Mars is not a friendly planet. As you well know, it’s a frigid desert. But people help each other – life is so hard, they have to. On Earth, life can be so easy, IF you got the bucks, but people are not always nice. Life is luxurious for some, but they’re not always grateful. Right, Makende?”

“You always right, Captain.”

“I wish that were so. A little more brack juice, guys!” He poured their little cups full. “Now, on long trips, we have our DVDs of all the classic films and music, and Sponge-Bob and Popeye and King of the Hill cartoons, but there is no substitute for the ancient art of story-telling. And so, Makende, what do we do?”

“We tell stories, each of us. Captain Quirk, you first. You de wa-wa.”

“If you insist.”

Captain Quirk paused and gathered himself together.

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, in Crimea or California, shrouded in thin fog, a handsome Swan drives a morbid-looking automobile, with a large-eyed spectacled Crab in the back seat, and a beautiful golden fish – a Pike, to Swan’s right. The Crab wears a leather jacket and shorts, a cap on his head, and tight under his armpits is his chessboard. The Swan wears jeans and a checkered shirt with rolled-up sleeves. The Pike wears a short skirt over her swimsuit.

“The wheels of the car are set widely apart, and open, without fenders. The passenger compartment is likewise open. The elongated hood has a powerful engine, but all the instruments are broken, the pedals are bent, the gearshift lever is wound up in the steering wheel, and the steering wheel is almost torn away from its column, hanging loosely on the driver Swan’s neck. The headlights are shattered and look like melancholy eyes, and sometimes the radiator wrinkles like a mouth.

“The Pike rests her fins on the edge of the passenger compartment, in front with the Swan. The Crab holds on in the rear of the car, tortured by every jerk and bump.

“A highway sign says The Fourth Circle of Hell. Near the sign is an automated teller machine, with a sign near a gate that says Tale for Artists of Transitional Age. The Pike takes from her body three golden scales like coins, casting them into the teller machine. The gate lifts, and the car moves forward.

“The exhausted Swan stops the car to rest, the car coughing to a halt. He has a hoarse bird voice, asking the Pike, ‘What to do next?’

“The Pike merely shrugs her shoulders in perplexity with no answer. Aggravated, the Swan looks toward the rear of the automobile. The Crab is concentrating, not noticing the disturbance of opinion. The Swan beats his wings like a Polish Lord over the Crab, and then opens his eyes widely, and twirls his feathers on his temples, with a gesture of asking for explanation.

“The Crab looks bluntly at the Swan. ‘When the fish-face turns to me her face, and in the language of her gestures, explains to me the problem, we’ll know what to do next. You know I don’t understand English well. Could you speak more understandably?’

“The Pike takes more coins from her golden scaly skin and puts them in the Crab’s pocket.

“The Crab says, ‘Oh! Thank you!’”

All three paused.

Osha said, “Captain Quirk, you are a conclusive conundrum of confusion.”

Makende chuckled. “Captain Quirk tells a different story every trip. He’s Siberian raised in Ukraine. If I understand this story, you de wa-wa pike fish, I’m the crab, and our wa-wa Captain Quirk is the swan.”

Osha did not feel better hearing this interpretation. “Sounds like our swan is not so confident about the mechanical integrity of our spaceship EMME.”

Makende answered, “He always has a story worrying about the EMME. He listens to its sounds and asks me about them the whole trip every time.”

Osha listened to the near-silence.

Quirk said, “Now, Makende, tell Osha your classic Cameroon story.”

“Okay, though I’ve told it so many times I cannot make it better.”

“It’s a real good story. Listen well, Yeoman Osha.”

Makende began. “The fat planet Earth always spins lazily, as we Bakossi play our African drums, hoping to eat the fattest yams.

“Every international kind of city always lies in splendor and decay. Many languages of singing come forth. Every kind of music. Wa-wa.

“Bakossi people are digging yams, carrying water, playing, and working. From time to time, someone lifts a large yam from the earth – celebrating and singing. Animals and insects make sounds with the same wa-wa rhythm.

“Animals and insects are also digging yams. Muscular Mosquito, lean and mean and grey amidst the colours of the jungle, is buzzing at work on top of a hill, sweating as he tries to pull out a yam.

“A very large Elephant, fat and happy and grey amidst the colours of the jungle, is working nearby with his yams. His large ears hear Mosquito panting and groaning.

“The Elephant says, ‘That someone is working very hard.’

“Elephant labors his heavy body to the top of the hill. His large posterior almost fills the world-screen with a new big-butt wa-wa walking rhythm and bass.”

Osha interjected, “Ah’d lahk to hear a new big-butt walking rhythm and bass. Sorry, Makende, please go on.”

“At the top of the wa-wa hill, we see over the huge backside of Elephant, the little lean and mean Mosquito digging and sweating a river of sweat, with a buzzing, zipping rhythm.

“Mosquito says, ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Jubilantly, he is shouting and leaping.

“Elephant’s great rolls of fat hurry to Mosquito’s digs. We see his big posterior almost filling the wa-wa world-screen; above it all, Mosquito swirls and buzzes in the air.

“Elephant says, ‘What is it? What is it?’

“Mosquito has a buzzing voice. ‘What a very good harvest I am having this year! I have just dug out the fattest yam! It is as fat and fresh as my leg! If I were to take it to the Agricultural Show that is happening soon, I would surely win first place!’

“Elephant asks, ‘But where is this yam?’

“Mosquito answers, ‘Why, here it is.’

“Groaning and hoisting, the straining Mosquito is barely above Elephant’s head and ears. We do not see the yam he is boasting about.

“Elephant rubs his eyes with his trunk, and then even with his front feet; stares sternly, then begins laughing and shaking his big grey fat. He cannot stop laughing. His laughing is with the boom-box new big-butt wa-wa walking rhythm and bass.

“Elephant loses self-control and falls backward, his large posterior sliding back down the hill, upon the nest of Cobra, whose skin is grey with the beginnings of colour. Cobra rears up, glaring and hissing, baring his fangs and flicking out his tongue.

“Cobra says, hissing, ‘What is it? You are falling upon me! You could kill me with all that weight!’

“Elephant’s two masses of backside roll off from Cobra’s nest. Cobra, like a flash, slithers away, entering the mysterious underworld hole of Mole.

“Cobra crawls down under the tunnels of the earth, where he meets Mole. They are like enemy spies in the underworld of the animals.

“Mole has a pink blinking small-eyed face. ‘What is it? Cobra, you are a very dangerous man! Have you come to catch me and kill me, even here, in my very own house?’

“Cobra shows his fangs. ‘I am escaping death from Elephant’s weight! I need the space you have in here.’ He looks about the tunnels. ‘To accommodate my very long length. I am very, very long indeed – you know this yourself.’

“‘I don’t trust you, with your poisonous venom.’

“Mole scuttles off to his secret door, escaping, running for his life.

“The jungle trees reach up toward the sky, dripping dew in the shafts of sunlight. Birds are singing and there is music again.

“Monkey, actually Cercopitheque moustac, with his mustache and blue face, is sitting up high in a tree, fooling around, and he looks down upon the surprise emergence of Mole, who emerges near the roots of the tree, wearing sunglasses.

“Monkey is chattering, as monkeys do. ‘What is it? What is becoming of the world when we see a mole running around in the middle of the day? Oh, this is a very bad omen, indeed!’

“Monkey screeches, runs, and skips through the branches of his tree and all the other trees round about, from one tree to another, shaking a thousand green and flowering branches. Dew is shaking toward the ground in millions of drops of moisture.

“Monkey jumps heavily onto a long, dry branch, which immediately breaks beneath his weight. Holding tightly to the branch, Monkey falls down a long way.

“Partridge, a Perdrix species, beautifully feathered with many spots and a bright orange beak, is sitting on her eggs. Looking up, she sees a large tree branch with chattering Monkey descending upon her. She jumps up and throws herself to one side, away from her nest, her many-spotted feathers flying colorfully.

“She cries, her voice cut short, ‘What is it?’

“Monkey lands upon Partridge’s nest, crushing all her eggs to flying white and yellow pieces. Partridge is very disturbed, shouting loudly, so hysterically that she falls into a faint, and remains unconscious for a long time.

“The villagers are sleeping soundly for a long time. Men, women, and children sleep. A clock’s hands go round. The people dream their hopeful dreams in silence. Everybody is dreaming about their own yams, but nobody is working.

“All the cities of every language go to sleep. Discos shut down; it is late.

“The fat blue earth spins and even squirms in the cosmos.

“The resplendent and dazzling sun lights the globe.

“One morning, one Cameroon Bakossi Village Man gets up from his humble house, opening his door and jumping into the street. All around him is quiet. He stands alone in the center of the village. ‘What is it?’ he murmurs mysteriously. ‘What is it?’

“The Village Man goes to every neighbour’s door, with no answer. Finally, a neighbour answers.

“‘Is anybody here? Is anyone still alive?’

“The neighbour answers, ‘Yes, I am. My family and I are still alive. What is it?’

“The Village Man says, ‘It is already the dawn of the day.’

“’What are you saying?’ The neighbour joins the Village Man at the door, and looks about at the stillness. ‘So, it is only you and I who are awake.’

“Each man goes to one end of the village and the other, to the other, knocking at every front door. They knock doors until the whole village is awake.

“All the Cameroon Bakossi villagers exclaim, ‘What is it? What is it? Where is our beautiful Partridge, the announcer of the dawning of the day? Where is her beautiful voice?’

“As one body, the crowd goes to the village Chief’s house. The Chief immediately summons Partridge, who stands before the chief and all his councilors in their colorful costumes.

“Outside, the villagers gather and shout, ‘Down with Partridge! Crucify her!’

“The chief of the village says, ‘Partridge, for one whole month you have refused to announce the dawning of the day. You are the village day-dawning Time Keeper! What is it? What have you to say for yourself?’

“Partridge is meek, tears falling down on her cheeks. ‘Your Honor, a monkey, sitting on a branch of a tree, almost killed me. He and his branch fell down on my eggs and destroyed them, every one. Since all my eggs are now destroyed, I will have no children, and there will be no one to take my place when I die.’

“The chief and all his councilors look with pity upon Partridge, who says, ‘There will be no successor for me. You see, I am getting old, and am nearing my grave.’

“The Cameroon Bakossi chief fumes, ‘Summon all the animals to the palace!’

“Monkey is brought wriggling and chattering before the Chief. All the other animals also assemble, making their various noises.

“The Cameroon Bakossi chief is really churned up. ‘Monkey, is it true what Partridge has told us? And if so, why have you done this thing, to her and to us all? It could be a criminal act, you know.’ sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Monkey scratches and plays with himself. ‘Your Honor, we all know that it is forbidden to see a mole in the daytime. To see a mole in the daytime is a very bad omen.’

“The chief says, ‘Hmmm … so it may be.’

“Monkey keeps scratching and playing with himself. ‘So, when I saw Mole in the day, pink and blinking in the light, I was in such a hurry to hide that I jumped on a dead and dry tree branch. The branch broke, and instead of landing safely on plain ground, landed on Partridge’s eggs.’ He looks about. ‘I am very sorry for what has happened.’

“The chief says sternly, ‘Don’t you know that saying sorry and excusing yourself is no answer at all?’

“The clever Monkey answers, ‘But … it cools the heart, honorable Chief.’

“The Cameroon Bakossi chief sighs, ‘Bring the Mole here.’

“Mole is brought forward, unable to see what is going on.

“The Cameroon Bakossi chief says, ‘Mole, what is it? You are not supposed to be out in the daytime. What went wrong?’

“Mole answers, blinking, ‘Your Honor, I was in my house, resting quietly, when suddenly Cobra rushed in! You know, your honor, that Cobra loves me for nothing else but his supper.’

“Cobra stands up tall and tries to keep his tongue from coming out too much.

“Mole continues, ‘He rushed in fiercely and he said that since he is very long he wanted to take or borrow my house. To save my life, I had to run away quickly. Unlucky for me, before I could make it to my next bunker, my next secret hide-out, Monkey must have seen me.’

“The Cameroon Bakossi chief demands, ‘Cobra, come forward!’

“Cobra stands tall and slithers forward, controlling his tongue. He bows slightly. ‘Honorable Chief and Councilors, I was not hungry at all.’ He makes a sly smile. ‘When I am hungry, I know very well when and where to find food. I went into Mole’s house only by chance, only because a great fat elephant …’ He looks aside toward Elephant, who seems ashamed of his size. ’… was laughing so loudly and wildly that he lost his balance and fell down on top of me. You can imagine his weight. He crushed me almost to pieces. The pain, I need not tell you, was terrible. So, when I saw my chance, I ran away in search of shelter, and that was when I accidentally entered the house of Mole.’

“The Chief fixes his penetrating gaze upon the embarrassed Elephant, and now he is bellowing. ‘What is it? How could you be laughing and falling? A big oligarch politician laughing and falling? Indeed! Laughing and falling on someone! You know very well how heavy you are. You could have killed someone with your weight!’

“Elephant’s eyes are wrinkling around the corners. ‘Your honor, I am very, very sorry.’ But, Elephant begins to laugh again, having difficulty controlling himself.

“The Cameroon Bakossi chief says, his eyes growing round and stern, ‘Be careful. I am warning you. Perhaps you have not realized where you are.’

“Elephant, fat as he is, prostrates himself before the Chief. His long trunk lays out straight and respectfully toward the Chief and his Council. Cobra looks jealous of it. Mole puts on his sunglasses. Monkey tries to control his chattering. Partridge looks resigned and bored.

“Elephant says. ‘Your Honor. I say again, I am sorry for what has happened. The fact is, I was very much shocked when I met Mosquito that day, digging his yams, up on his farm. He was heaving and sweating and jubilating like a lunatic, and I got very frightened.’

“Mosquito is almost hidden, buzzing about among the animals and the people, and they are swatting themselves, trying to see where he really is.

“Elephant can’t stop talking. ‘When I approached him to find out why he was behaving like that, he told me that he had just dug out the fattest, freshest yam the world had ever seen, and he lifted it up to show it to me. This yam was as fat and as fresh as his leg, your Honor, that is the truth, and in my astonishment I began to laugh. I laughed so much that I lost my balance, and I fell down heavily – regrettably, on top of Cobra.’

“The Chief and all his Councilors laugh with Elephant. ‘Mosquito! Where is this great famous yam that you have dug out and which has excited you so much?’

“Mosquito buzzes forth. ‘It is in my house, Your Honor. It is the greatest yam that man has ever harvested. This year is my year! And I thank God for it.’

“The Chief and all his Councilors stop laughing. They confer together. ‘This court is now adjourned. Any day now we will appoint another session, when, Mosquito, you will bring your great yam to show us all.’

“Mosquito buzzes, ‘Your Honor, without fail, I will do that.’

“The Cameroon Bakossi chief says, ‘And now, you should all go home. Partridge, to you we extend our condolences, and we hope you will accept them. We all plead that you will continue your job. A decision will be made only after we have judged Mosquito, and anyone found guilty will be sentenced, and sent to prison.’

“All the villagers and animals go home.

“But, Mosquito is waiting still, buzzing in your ear in the middle of the day and then even more in the middle of the night, asking you:

“‘When is it? When is it? When is it coming, the next court session? Do you know? When is it? When is it?’”

Captain Quirk said, “I always love that story. Every type of person is represented like a different kind of animal. And our dear Earth is still in that same mess. Hmmmm. And now, Osha, please, you tell your story.”

“Never much good at sturries, but, here goes:

“To do love medicine for yourself can be dangerous and difficult, although to do it for others is relatively easy. War medicine is relatively easy also, unless you have a similarly skilled opponent.

“Hilahiyu – long ago – when the Sun was angry at the people of the Earth for being unable to look at her without making terrible squinting faces, she sent a great heat to torment them to the point of contrition. It is said that the Little People changed a man into a giant monster snake or dragon called the Uktena, or the One With the Eye, and sent him skyward to try to kill or cool the Sun.

“The Uktena failed in this mission, whereas the Rattlesnake succeeded, which established the Rattler as the Chief of all the Snakes. The Uktena was subsequently so jealous and angry that he remained a threat to the people. Although he was taken up into the sacred circle of Galunlati with many other extinct creatures, his offspring still lived to torment the people from the peripheries.

“The Uktena was colorful, with hypnotically concentric fiery circles or spots all along the length of its body, and with horns or antlers and a blazing brilliant crystal crest of fire on its head. No one could receive the gaze of this crystal eye and live for long, for they would turn to stone. This fierily transparent crystal was known as the Ulunsuti. It was one of those things of great power that everybody thought they wanted, but no one who had one wanted to keep, because of the great power of the crystal, and its thirst for blood.

“In earlier times, the Cherokee considered the Shawnee to all be magicians or witches, probably because the history of the Shawnee, the People of the South, went back further into the early time of the mound-builders and the workers of stone. The captured Shawnee might redeem themselves and become adopted into the Cherokee, if their ancient knowledge proved practically useful enough. It is said that such a Shawnee named Aganunitsi (The Sausage) was being prepared for torture by the Cherokee, after being captured in battle.

“‘I challenge, you, the Cherokee, to allow me to hunt for the Uktena, and to bring back for you, my captors, the sacred crystal of power; and so to this will you, the Cherokees, agree?’

“The Cherokees released Aganunisti, who walked into the forest with weapons.

“Aganunitsi knew that the great dragon was very hard to find, because it hid in the deep dark pools in the rivers and in the darkest hollows and mountain passes. He searched through all the loneliest places in the land. Along the way, he encountered virtually every other kind of monstrous reptile or amphibian imaginable, but no Uktena. Most of the animals he encountered were known to exist to everyone, but not always in the sizes he found.

“He approached a huge diamondback rattlesnake on the forest floor.

“There were diamondback rattlesnakes longer than four men laid end to end, as long as a war canoe, with heads the size of a big man’s fist, and fangs the length of a dangerous finger. They were lazy and not aggressive unless provoked, so he respected and avoided them. He offered them tobacco as he recited their old names in rhythm with their rattles. Their eyes slowly blinked, languid, as they relaxed their coils, and their diamonds wove their way through similar gold and grey patterns on the floors of the sunlit forests.

“There were fat black water moccasins sinuously swimming across the waters. They would even slither between the toes of a fisherman, and if one kept still they would not strike.

“The copperheads were similarly laid back, reclining on branches of streamside trees, looking like wood, unless one grasped that particular limb.

“There were alligators even longer than the rattlers, longer than a war canoe, but they also were fat and lazy, unless their lakeside nests of tough leathery eggs were disturbed.

“There were snapping turtles of huge size, as big as a riverboat poker table, lurking in the pools and eddies of rivers and ponds. As long as you did not stick your toe or finger or other member near their mouths, they did not snap. But if you did, they could bite anything off.

“There were bears bigger than people see today, as big and fat as the grizzlies of the northwest, but they also were not aggressive unless threatened. All warriors knew that they even smiled at those wise enough to keep their distance.

“There were panthers who kept their distance so well that they were seldom seen. Some of them were black, with deep golden eyes.

“There were mosquitoes, and that was the worst of it. My paint protected me. But then I received Snake Medicine, from a flower I had never before seen, and a blue-eyed snake like I also had never seen before.

“I saw a dangling deep red swamp flower. I danced the complex semicircles of the Snake Dance, as strange barely audible hungry sounds began to come from the edges of all directions. With the final step of the dance, a wood moccasin, like a cottonmouth but for its higher and drier habitat and its steely blue-grey eyes, came out from the dense greenery and struck, biting me, the southern warrior, on the ankle. It felt like two fierce wasps stinging simultaneously. Kanegwati Akta-Sakonige, the blue-eyed moccasin. Ahhh.”

“It really hurt. I sat down upon the dirt and sang, as the stinging venom worked its way into my blood.

“From my medicine pouch of white buckskin, of otter and fox skin, I pulled a snakeroot button, and chewed it, then rubbed the result into the bite. After a month of prayer and fasting, and special medicine roots and flowers, I was ready to seek the Uktena again, now that I had acquired the power of Kanegwati Akta-Sakonige, the blue-eyed water moccasin. I pushed still southward, coming eventually to the Gahuti Mountain, where I finally found the great Uktena, sound asleep. Coiled as it was, with its strangely humanlike sleeping face, it was hard to locate the huge horned head. Fascinatingly, it actually had a sort of beard and mustaches like a catfish, or a semi-aquatic sort of white man. The slowly breathing body was like a huge brilliantly iridescent rattlesnake, coiling around several large trees and boulders. Its skin was iridescent, translucent, and beautiful.

“I realized I was becoming entranced, even though the dragon was asleep. No one before had ever been able to approach the Uktena without being drawn relentlessly into its spell, drawn ever closer, and turned to lifeless stone. Even to gaze upon the sleeping dragon was known to bring definite danger to the family of the gazer.

“Perhaps the power of the blue-eyed wood-snake was to the protection of the family of Aganunisti, me, for at the moment that I began to fall under the powerful waves of trance, I also began to feel something wondrous from my once-bitten ankle move, serpentine, through my body. I now had the Snake Medicine, and that protected me from the hypnosis of the Uktena.

“I, Aganunisti, silently retreated down the mountain, feet touching the earth more and more gently at every step. Near the spreading base, I built a large circular fire made of pine cones, which burn very hot; within that circle, another, within a deep circular trench. I ran back up the boulders, and notched my strongest arrow into my bow, decorated with rattlesnake skin, dyed brilliant red and yellow. Taking aim, I the warrior let my arrow of cane fly into the heart of the Uktena sleeping at the summit, at the seventh iridescent ring down from the awful head.

“Awakening in breath of smoke, the great terrible writhing dragon pursued me, Aganunisti, down the slope, but I the warrior leapt the ring of fire, clearing the flames and the trench in one bound. The serpent was already in its death struggle, spitting and pissing poison everywhere, polluting the land all around. Dark stinking blood flowed all down the mountain, enough to make an entire dark red lake. The man, I, Aganunisti, within the ring of fire, remained unharmed, as drops of poison hissed, hitting the flaming circle, and vile, poisonous blood flowed into the inner trench. When all was finally quiet again, and the blood and the fire were settling, I, Aganunisti, called upon all the birds, the hawks and the ravens, to come and feed on the vast corpse.”

“Wow and how, you indigenous people sure have some stories,” said Captain Quirk.

“Yeah. Wa-wa.” Makende agreed. “Sounds like you might know wa-wa what to do if you meet up with one of those legendary giant deadly lizards on Mars.”

All went without further event. They landed on Mars, with all sorts of thuds followed long after by a comforting squish, and Osha finally walked out of the now-deflated shuttle-bubble, bigger than a mere shuttle-bottle, that had landed southeast of Syrtis. He said fond goodbyes to Quirk and Makende.

The shuttle-bubble was picked up and recycled, transparent plastic now crushed and glistening against a red dusty dark rock of a planet.

A Mars truck stop like this late at night was scary, even for someone who had already lived long upon the Moon. It was a deep cobalt sky that sometimes turned pink, swirling mauve in the night and then yellow ochre ablaze with alizarin in the dawning Martian dusty day. Osha was really blown away by his first Martian sunrise.

Then he took the long night train shuttle-bottle to Hesperia, blowing and sucking on his Hohner Marine Band blues harp until the nearby pleasant fellow passengers asked him to stop so they could sleep.

“Hey, I like your blues harp playing,” one passenger said. “Here, my name is Roman. I have a gift for you. CDs of Cleric Apt One, and Muddy Waters, Junior Wells, and the Rootie Tootie Band.”

“Thanks, how can I accept this gracious gift?”

“S’ok, I have my copies.”

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