eggplant

This time, it was in the city. We had our badman clothes and our guns pointed up and out. We made it to the big metal trailer where everyone was - the klieg lights came on and everybody was running around, and John pointed his gun at the man's head or maybe at mine. I don't remember. Then the kids mobbed John because they don't have their own guns, and John came back when it was light with a face full of cigarette burns and no bullets left (but he only had one anyway, and we all know who he used it on). We got worried because our guns were empty, so we walked around a little until we found the police. We walked straight by them - they didn't say anything or look. We each picked up a long half-cylinder filled with fresh-hewn granite bullets, rough and glittering. I had to make sure the police didn't see what we'd taken, so I made sure everyone turned the bullets to face their bellies. We went through the rest of the city like this: marching back with wary eyes and belly-shields. Your mom told stories to comfort us on the way, and we all laughed, but at the last crosswalk the cars were too fast and we lost her on the other side. We went on; it was dark by then, so we put our spoils down in the side yard of a house and decided to crawl across the tops of the hedges. Someone played a song, or sang, but I'd never heard the song before. I stopped near the end of the hedges and went back to check on our bullets. Of course, they were eggplants now. I marveled at this simple fact of nature just as the sun rose and turned the houses green and gold. Read More...