Sparkle made a decent above board living and a hell of a stack of currency under the table. She was a small, silent pharmaceutical partner with 3D. Sparkle was also considering buying a share of The Balmy Breezes where she peddled most of her services.
Sparkle had only a very few regular clients. She is way too pricey for most and she was a rare breed of sex worker: Sparkle didn’t have a greedy bone in her body. The Good Doctor was one of those rare regulars that she did like. He sure was a strange one, though. Sparkle never knew what she was in for, but he paid her in hard Federal Bank Note currency (much less volatile than the Rupee). More importantly, The Good Doctor let her wander the GRID protected grounds of his farm undisturbed for as long as it pleased her, after servicing him. As weird as he was in the bedroom, he was a complete gentleman outside it. She’d heard the rumors about him, of course. Of how The Good Doctor was specially chosen by Satan, that he was an Antichrist. She didn’t mind. With god the father long gone, being associated in any way with the blessed of the devil could only help her and her Damnation Score. Either way, Sparkle loved it there at the huge farm. Truthfully, she loved it there so much that she would have done Herr Doktor for free to have access to the farm. However, she was far too pragmatic to ever spill those beans. He was silly rich anyway, so it didn’t matter. He paid her well. She blocked out all the ugly stuff, and got to wander the farm in peace.
Sparkle would go through a break in the purple-hued bougainvillea laced fencing and into the vegetable garden. The Good Doctor, as he’d explained once to her as she was cleaning egg from his penis with her clacking beak, had cloned six inch tall gnomes. The garden gnomes weeded the garden and fertilized it with their fermented urine and dehydrated feces. They bred amongst themselves, now that The Good Doctor had created a starter set. The gnomes regulated their own numbers with well thought out breeding patterns and ritualistic euthanasia and acts of cannibalism.
The gnomes lived in tiny huts they fashioned out of organic materials and confiscated household trash. They had their huts interspersed throughout the garden, some very well camouflaged so as to be quite difficult to detect. A central meeting lodge was in an overturned fruit tree box. The gnomes cut a square hole in the square ceiling. Sometimes tendrils of wood smoke curled up out of the lodge when they had a wee bonfire going for rituals and celebrations. Sparkle could watch them all day. They hunted insects and pinkies (baby mice) and herded earthworms and salamanders like miniature cattle. The Good Doctor had told their leader that if they kept their numbers under control, they could, within reason, help themselves to the bounty of the farm. They even indulged in an occasional hen’s egg, especially if it was starting to turn. Crazy little beasties, they were. The gnomes did not dig humanoids too much, but they always sent out a contingent when she came to visit. Sometimes, if she had one ready, she’d lay them an egg of her own, gratis, just because she so enjoyed their company.
Sparkle also liked Billy. He was a Halfling like her, but Billy was made and Sparkle was born. The goat-guy tried on several occasions to coerce her into some sex. He was so sincere, Sparkle couldn’t be angry with him. Billy truly thought a fruit basket and smoked catfish jerky was treasure, but Sparkle couldn’t be had for that. Every time she refused him Billy shrugged it off and then almost instantly was distracted by something cool he wanted to show her. It was kind of sweet, though. Sometimes he showed her things that were wonderful. Billy showed Sparkle the incubation coop where the hatchlings were kept warm and safe. The chicks made her heart soar. When she allowed herself to day-dream this was what they were always about: Sparkle wanted babies.
****
A thin stream of viscous fluid shot out first. When the egg came rocketing out of Sparkle, the customer closed his eyes and lifted his countenance up to receive it. The egg shell cracked and split on impact. The partially developed chick-fetus splattered all over the man’s enraptured face.
It died as it slid lava slow off his forehead, toward his chin. The gurgled breaths of the premature baby chick struggled in vain to keep it alive. Too sick to cry, its wee heart beat just a few times more before the customer ate all of it. He ate the feathered wings, clawed feet, the hair that grew from its crown and the blue human eyes that popped and squirted fluid as he bit into them.
Sparkle gathered herself. She left the recital and went backstage to the dressing room all the performers shared. As a star Sparkle commanded a curtained-off corner. She would be left more or less in peace as she cried her eyes out.
No one noticed Sparkle crying, except for the drug dealer.
* * * *
3D emptied out a gram weight vial of Uptown Girl onto a tray. She placed it down on the counter back stage at the Balmy Breezes. She lined up the finely chopped powder. The strippers gathered around the gram, taking turns sucking up the thinnest sample lines.
Donna found that it was well worth the cost of a gram, or more, of her goodwill. That way the customers came to her and she didn’t have to chase ditzy, doped out strippers all around the club. After sampling Donna’s Uptown Girl, if the dancers weren’t already sold beforehand, the samples did their job and sealed the deal. And she never had to chase anyone down.
The performers were burying themselves in Donna’s sample as Sparkle came crying backstage. Sparkle was one of Donna’s silent partners. She didn’t think The Good Doctor was on to her. If he was, Donna didn’t know how angry he would be. Would he view this as industrious on her part, or traitorous? There was no way she could ascertain this without incriminating herself, so she kept this little sideline moonlighting under wraps. There were only a very small handful of silent partners like Sparkle. They did not know of each other’s existence and that’s the way everyone liked it.
Donna had never seen Sparkle this upset before. It was a trifle disconcerting. Some of the dancers and performers she knew got off on being ogled and paid to do favors. They dug it. Some of them were too drug addled or just plain stupid. They truly did not get that they were being whores. Sparkle didn’t fall in either of these camps. Donna knew that Sparkle hated what she did for a living. Sparkle just didn’t know what else she could do.
Unloading another gram and some change onto the tray, Donna told the girls that she would be back in twenty minutes to take their orders. Donna left the gaggle and made her way over to Sparkle’s dressing quarters.
* * * *
Sparkle reached down with her beak and angrily tore the vibrating belt from her sex. Crying, she dropped it on the floor. The baby had blue eyes, she thought, sobbing it out in hard, rasping sobs. Sparkle supposed the whole wicked, sick affair will help to elevate her personal Damnation Score. Heck, most of her work was more than creepy enough to keep her score card in good order. But Sparkle surprised herself on how much it hurt her to do those things, especially with fertilized eggs. She wondered how many post-uteri abortions she’d had.
Sparkle found that she couldn’t care less about the fifteen thousand Rupees cash she made for the gross gig. The pain she felt in her middle matched perfectly her broken heart. Sparkle could not stop weeping.
* * * *
3D knocked on the wall by Sparkle’s closed curtain.
“Go away,” was her reply.
“It’s me, Sparkle,” she said, “Donna.” There was a pause and a sniffle before Sparkle invited Donna in. “Sorry, dear,” Donna said, slipping quickly into Sparkle’s private space.
“It’s okay,” Sparkle told her, “I’ve just had me a day.”
“Well then, I am certainly glad I stopped by,” Donna told her. “I’ve got something new that you are just going to love.”
“I don’t know, Donna,” Sparkle began. “I’ve got plenty of Uptown Girl and I’m not ready to go Downtown Leroy Brown quite yet.”
Donna laughed. “I know you’re squared away with Up, dear. That’s not why I’m here.”
Sparkle, getting weary, snapped at Donna, “What the heck do you need then?” she asked. “I’m not really feeling up to company.”
>
“I’m not here to bother you. I’m here to turn you on to something that is so completely brand new, doll! We call it Crosstown Traffic.”
“New is it? Where’d you get it, the usual place?”
“That’s right, it’s from the twins. The Good Doctor has got some brand new gear.”
Sparkle sat on a folding chair in front of a big stage mirror of shiny pressed sheet metal. She looked at her reflection. Her slightly chapped beak clacked open and close. The tear stains remained tracked on her face. Sparkle could see Donna in the reflection. Donna was smiling at her. Sparkle didn’t feel too much like smiling herself. Her heart felt bruised and battered. She felt on the verge of another full-on crying jag. Sparkle closed her eyes, pinching them tightly shut. She took in a great big breath and let it slowly out.
Sparkle opened her wet eyes to see Donna scooted up in her chair. She had a long pinky nail with opaque crystals in it. Donna held it under Sparkle’s nose holes.
“Why not, I could sure use the distraction.”
That is just what she got.
* * * *
Sparkle was standing by the milking sheds. She was beneath the GRID protected dome on The Good Doctor’s urban micro-farm. Trailing behind her was a coop full of chicklings. They all looked up at their mother with their big, trusting, very human eyes.
She was so in love.
There were five of them in all. The chicklings circled bok-bokking around Sparkle’s ankles. Their feathers were just like their mother’s: hard black and shiny steel. Their human hair was dark and long. It grew out in tufts all over their bodies. Sparkle twisted their hair into easy to care for dread-locks. Their human eyes were all slightly varying shades of blue. The chicklings had tiny fingers that grew out of their bent wings. The fingers wriggled constantly, especially when the chicks were excited. They were happy wee ones in general, so their tiny fingers jiggled all the time.
The chicklings loved visiting the milking sheds. The new baby goats fascinated the chicks and they were just beginning to stand on their own. The chicks watched the baby goats, bok-bokking their myriad questions, peppering their mother with them at a mile a minute. The ice cold sun was distant, but it was still showing bright through the force field and down upon all of them. It was glorious!
Sparkle sensed that what she was experiencing could in no way be real. She knew it was a dream, that her delight was due to Crosstown, but dang it if it wasn’t a good dream. She felt the love she had for her children every bit as palpably as the shy sun on her upturned face. Sparkle glanced down at them and they gazed back at her, filled to the brim, simply overflowing, with love and trust. She felt their love. She felt it most intensely.
A shadow fell over them. Sparkle looked up and over where her shoulder would be if she had any and saw The Good Doctor, himself.
“Dr. Sir,” greeted Sparkle.
“My Dear,” he replied, kissing both her gobbles. He knelt down. The chicklings came to The Good Doctor and circled excitedly all around him. He smiled vast and let the youngsters hop on and jump about. Even when they accidently dropped bottom-bombs on The Good Doctor’s crisp suit of clothes, he smiled and didn’t mind. He knew the babies couldn’t help themselves. They were immensely jazzed about seeing their father. The Good Doctor was not able to spend as much time as he would like with his chick-kids. They, of course, adored him even more because of this.
“How are all my babies doing today, hmm?” The chattering from the chicks became even more incessant.
“They are just beside themselves, husband,” Sparkle answered for them. The Good Doctor laughed and smiled. Delighted, he stood.
“Follow me then,” he replied. “I have something fabulous to show you all.”
The chicks erupted, chirping, chattering and bottom-bombing the whole area.
“Wonderful! Children, everyone get in line and follow me. Chop-chop, now,” she told them, “let us make haste.”
The chicklings lined up and followed Sparkle and their father. The grown-ups led them through the gate and straight into the root garden where the gnomes dwelled. There was to be a ceremony today. They were all invited to attend the festivities.
A small contingent of gnomes was waiting for them, right between the rows of carrots and radishes. They all bowed severely at the waist when they saw their Creator. The leader of the gnomes prostrated himself before The Good Doctor.
“Rise, please,” The Good Doctor stated and the gnomes all complied. The one who had prostrated himself turned and disappeared between the vegetable rows. The Good Doctor turned then to Sparkle and the kids and said: “They are wheeling him out now.”
“Who is it?” asked Sparkle.
“It is one of their Elders. They are going to perform a ceremony of Renewal.”
“What is that, my love?”
“Their eldest Seer is dying. The ceremony, the gnomes believe, will ensure that his wisdom, caring and strength remains with the clan.”
The gnomes wheeled their Seer out on an old kid’s skateboard. The gnome was tied down. He was still breathing, but just barely. Sparkle had the chicks back up a touch when some gnomes came forward. They all had wicked sharp spears. They rolled their dying leader to a stop. One of the spear-wielding gnomes came forward to the supine gnome. He bowed slightly from the waist and then plunged the spear tip into the chest and split the gnome open. He quickly cut out the heart, while it was still beating and squirting red life. He presented it to the reigning member of the Hunter Elite, who gobbled it down like it was so much pumpkin pie.
The eyes of the now dead gnome were popped out with the same spear tip. The optic nerves were severed and the orbs themselves were presented to the gnome’s new Seer of the Clan. He ate the windows to the soul with relish and all due reverence. The wisdom that was necessary to lead the clan, the gnomes believed, were centered in the eyes. The brain of the former Seer was detached from the stem connecting it to the spine and presented whole to the Healer and Midwife to the clan. She wrapped it lovingly and took it with her. She was softly crying the whole time.
Sparkle, The Good Doctor and their chicklings watched enraptured as the rest of the gnomes proceeded to empty out the thorax and abdomen of all the vital organs. They planned to cook it all in a stew for the whole of the clan to enjoy. Once they finished scooping out the dead gnome’s still warm innards, the clan invited the chicklings to feast upon the remainder of the gnome. The gnomes wasted nothing.
The chicklings just adored gnome meat and the bones held much savory marrow. Sparkle smiled, delighted with the sight of the chicks gorging themselves. She was still smiling when the darkness closed around her and she was brought back up to the surface.
* * * *
Sparkle was no longer a mother and a wife. Now she was just Sparkle, the sex performer. Dang it!
Sparkle lifted her head from her deep breast and inhaled sharply. She came to, smiling at Donna.
“What do you think?” she asked Sparkle.
“That was really something,” she said, trying to steady her excited heart.
“You liked it then?”
“Loved it,” Sparkle replied. “I want in.”
Donna grinned. This was more like it.
“Excellent,” she said. “How deep do you want to dive, Sparkle?”
The egg-layer paused a moment to reflect on her trip.
“All the way in,” she replied. Sparkle reached into her clutch and removed the cash with her beak. She dropped the stack of cash she’d received for the solo performance into the waiting hand of 3D. “Fifteen thousand Rupees,” she said. “Is that enough to make me an equal partner in this new venture?”
Donna looked down at the stack of cash. “Yes it will,” she told Sparkle.
“Good,” Sparkle replied, but with a catch: “Let me have a gram right now.”
“No problem.”
“And never let me run out,” she added.
“You got it,” Donna assured her. She smiled grandly at Sparkle. An
other satisfied customer, the drug dealer thought. Sometimes it pays to get up in the morning. Even in this dirt hole.
* * * *
Love is all you need.
It is a loaded gun and it shoots to kill. And even though it is a battlefield and it hurts, you need it, way down inside. It’s a second-hand emotion and it’s all you need. It burns when it’s hot. It is a temple, the higher law. It can be deep inside, it can be suicide. It is a ghost train howling at the radio. It is the leech sucking you up. It is the vampire drinking your blood. It is like oxygen. It is like a dying ember, only memories remain. I want to know what it is. I want you to show me.
We only need the one more. Just one. Then We can skip the light fandango.
Love is the key that fits a million locks. And We are going to find it. Even if it the last thing We ever do.
Love is all you need…love is all you need…love is all you need…
SEPTUM
SLOW BENNIE AWOKE IN THE USUAL FASHION. He opened his eyes and tried with his feeble brain to determine his location. He was fully clothed, lying on the floor of his bedroom. He had the thumb of one hand lodged firmly in his mouth, suckling it. The other hand was cupping protectively his penis and testicles. Slow Bennie blinked himself awake as he remembered that he was home. Then again, he was always home. Slow Bennie never went anywhere off grounds. It was awfully cold up top and outside the force field protected GRID.
Slow Bennie and his uncle Elron Hunt had to themselves all of five hundred square meters of livable space underground, which was good. Their home was certainly bigger than most. But what was truly remarkable and valuable was the one-third of an acre of GRID protected land directly above their domicile. This is the kind of land that is worth more than can ever be quantified. Of course Slow Bennie had no concept of this. He held no realization of the immense value of his inheritance. He didn’t know that that was the main and really only reason why his uncle allowed him to do whatever his punchy water head told him to do. Slow Bennie just simply knew that Uncle Elron never ever punished him for anything he did, no matter how stupid.
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