Untitled #1
Contributors: Ahchie, The Diesel, Brother Nature, Throcksmorton, Albuquerque Tom
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen (stay tuned...)
Herman woke up next to the abandoned train tracks with a monstrous hangover. He had three cents in his pocket and his shoes were missing. He didn’t know how he got there and he couldn’t remember where he lived. He began to realize that he couldn’t recall much of anything. All he could remember for sure was his first name and his mama’s cooking - and how much he hated both.
He got up and began walking slowly with his hands in his pockets, fumbling over the three pennies that, despite their low value, kept him from complete despair. The pennies somehow comforted him. Perhaps it was the connection to the outside world, a shared commodity, or maybe it just helped divert his thoughts from what might have happened to place him here. Either way, he continued to slowly play with the pennies, moving them in between his fingers looking for somewhere comfortable.
He came to a large shade tree and slowly placed his aching body at the foot of it. The tree provided some relief to the glare of the hot morning sun. As the shade cooled the sweat on the back of his neck, he wiped his face with his t-shirt and began to survey his surroundings. To the left and right of him was rusted track, overgrown with weeds, and heading to nowhere. He couldn’t see the end of the tracks as the heat mirage was blurring everything past ½ a mile. About 50 yards in front of him was a purple van with a large painting of Jesus on the side.
Herman felt strangely drawn to the image of Jesus. The sun was beating down through the branches and he noticed it was casting a beam of light on his body. He softly mumbled to himself, “Am I Jesus?” He looked down at his feet, which were covered in dirt and minor cuts, but he realized he felt no pain - only the throbbing from his head. As he touched his head he noticed his hair was rather long, just past shoulder length.
Still feeling rather confused and not quite clear about his surroundings, he could hear music coming from the direction of the purple van, and the sound of rushing water.
Herman then remembered that his middle name is Jesus. Herman Jesus Gunderson. In high school he was known as Son of a Gunderson. He walked up to the van and looked at the drawing. It was beautiful. It had lots of bright vibrant colors that brought him peace. He walked over to the driver’s side and saw that there was a lady driving the vehicle with a thin pencil mustache a la John Waters. His mind was blown - how could this creature with such a beautiful van have such hideous facial hair?
“Where
ya been, Hermie?” asked the mustachioed woman.
As he gazed into her eyes the memories began flooding back. This woman, whom
he thought of as a hideous creature with an eye for art when he first saw
her sitting behind the wheel of the purple van, was his mother. He remembered
now why he hated his first name with such a passion. No one in school ever
got away with calling him “Hermie,” and he felt an uncomfortable
rage build within as the memories washed over him.
Even though he was confused and could remember very little when he first woke up, he realized that he had been thinking clearly for the first time in a long time in those moments that he spent under the shade of the tree. His mind had been able to process everything he saw and heard in an unbiased and uncluttered way. Now he found himself desperately wanting to go back to that moment when he didn’t know who he was and his life held much more promise than it did now.
“You okay, son?” Herman’s mother asked quietly.
The woman paused for a moment and then said, “Wake up, you smell like you’ve been dead for a week!”
Looking for solace, Herman reached for the pennies in his pocket and began to move them between his fingers. The pennies were gone. He pulled out the three metal objects in his pocket and looked at them. Though he knew there would be no solace in these items, he continued to stare at his hand. Herman was holding three bullets; one of them was inscribed momma.
Herman
began to tremble. Before his mother saw his face, he quickly walked to the
back of the van. He opened the door and got inside. Sitting in a slightly
bent lawn chair he began to sweat from the heat inside the van, the bullets
in his pocket, and the monster in the front seat.
On the floor by his feet was a suitcase that was too full to close. The sparse
light coming through the front of the van made it difficult to see much detail,
but he could tell that what ever was inside of it had been leaking out. He
knew what was inside - he had put it there.
He reached for the suitcase, carefully balancing his weight as he tried to remain seated in the lawn chair.
The van started and moved about 5 feet before stopping abruptly. Mother, looking out the front windshield said almost to herself, “I’ve seen some weird things...”
Herman immediately forgot about the contents of the suitcase and reached inside the small paper bag that was behind him.
In an instant he had kicked opened the backdoor of the van and in one smooth motion leaped out. His right hand was concealed in a small brown paper bag. He gave himself a wry smile as he recalled that just a few moments ago he thought he was Jesus.
Herman’s jaws clenched and he felt his body tighten. Just then he heard some music. He slowly tilted his head as he recalled hearing that in the solitude he felt earlier under the tree. He turned his head toward the sound of the music and heard rushing water and a woman scream. Then laughter. He noticed the brow on his forehead slowly relax. More screams and laughter filled the air. Suddenly he heard his mother yell something and the engine race as she stepped on the gas pedal. The van didn't move and neither did he.
The music he heard was an acoustic set of Dexy’s Midnight Runner's “Come on Eileen.” The sound of the music made him long to grow a beard and wear overalls and chant “To la to la to la to la ray.” He was frightened to no end. His mother's voice did not sound warm - but rather brutal. He needed to escape - but the van would not go. He reached into his pockets and saw a re-call notice for a Ford Aerostar transmission. He didn’t own this van so how did this reach his pockets? Herman knew what he had to do.
As Herman’s instincts kicked in, everything seemed to be happening in a blur. He did not even know how he got to be seated in the passenger seat of the van. He knew there would be plenty of time to dress up and play karaoke later, but now he had to figure out what went wrong. As he shut off the radio Herman turned his head to his left and looked at his mother. She had gone into an epileptic seizure and was convulsing in the driver’s seat. Her feet were flailing about pushing on the gas and the brake erratically. Something was preventing the van from moving.
Outside, to his right, Herman could see three longhaired hippies dressed in rags running away toward a grove of trees. He knew they were headed for the river, which at this time of year was full on rapids and un-navigable. Herman knew the land well and was certain that the only way out for the hippies would be to come back to the clearing the van was stuck in. Irritated at this new wrinkle in his plans, he was confident that no one would miss the longhairs after he took care of them. He hoped he would not need any more suitcases.
Acting quickly Herman dragged his mother to the rear of the van where she could continue her writhing out of sight and out of the way. He would take care of her soon, but first he got out to investigate why the van would not move.
Underneath the right front wheel was a huge dead hippie. His long hair had wrapped itself around the axle and stopped the van. He lay there with his eyes permanently open and his hair nearly scalped off his head from the pull of the axle.
Herman looked partially over his shoulder and shouted, “I’ll be back in a minute momma.”
Herman knew this area would be ripe with hippies. Herman became a Hippie Hunter soon after the constitutional amendment was ratified that legalized the hunting of hippies in overpopulated areas. When the amendment was expanded to include all areas, business boomed and everyone became a hunter. Now there is a hippie shortage and most hippie hunters have returned back to their normal lives. While a dead hippie can still bring a nice price, if you only find one or two a month it can make life difficult. Painting Jesus on the side of the van was genius. The hippies can’t resist getting a closer look at his long flowing hair and the forever optimistic hippies often knock on the van door looking for food, drugs, and clothing. When Herman steps out with his long hair and no shoes they immediately let their guard down. That’s when Herman lifts up his robe to reveal his weapon of the day.
Today’s weapon is a .44 Magnum with an LAPD nightstick for any hand-to-hand stuff. Herman looked at the gun and began walking towards the direction of the cornered hippies. As the music of Dexy’s Midnight Runners grew louder, he had the feeling that something was not right.
He found he was walking into a rather dense grove of trees, which cast dark shadows even with the sun shining high. He felt much clearer than just a short time ago, but still struggled to see clearly. He rubbed his eyes to clear them and peered down at his hands which had a small amount of blood smeared across his knuckles. He again wiped his eyes with his fingers and felt a twinge of pain as he touched his forehead. The blood was wet and fresh. What happened to his forehead? No time to wonder now, he had hippies to capture.
As he looked up from his hand he saw a tree branch flying at his face. Herman flew back and landed on his back. He tried to open his eyes but felt warm fluid on his face. He turned his head and tried to shake off the hit. As he opened his eyes he saw the face of a longhaired man bending over him. He noticed two others standing on either side. Herman fumbled for his gun and nightstick but he just grabbed dirt.