genzo kimita, part one: shinglebanks

It was the first day of the winter when he decided to go to bed. It was not a bad time, it was definitely bedtime. As he had nobody to sing bedtime stories to, he went two stories high to the ceiling and tried to take one last look at the sky. He was not the type of guy who would love you and leave you. But he would probably forget you somewhere. He had a lot going on on his mind so he never liked to jump in a jungle and he would rather dance in the streets. For many years his friends thought that he was going to be a dancer but instead surprising them all he became a truck driver. Every day from home to work he rushed through the street lights and eager to find the missing parts inside him he hit any small animal he saw outside with anything he could find. He knew that his inner child is lost somewhere inside him so any time he found a small animal he wanted to use it as a bait to find him.

He took the letter opener with his right hand and without thinking for even a second he stabbed his left hand which was making finger tapping noises on the left side of the desk. He never liked the left side of the desk. And the desk was not fond of him. He always thought there was a small misunderstanding between them which was based on something that happened on the first day that he brought it home. His left index finger was limping but still continued to tap on the table. He thought he could not feel pain until then, but after some seconds he rushed to the hospital. Stepping on a small squirrel o the way he knew that this was a life changing day. Because everyone knows what they say. They say things which no one wants to remember but still no one can forget. When he got bored he always tried to count his memories but he never got beyond hundred. Hundredth was the most important memory of them all. When he got to that he always got carried away and forgot what he was doing.

When he reached the hospital he shouted at the first person he saw, but from the reaction he received, a fist in his right eye, he knew right away that, the person he shouted at was a second degree boxer with several championships on and off the ring, a respectable businessman, and a flamboyant ventriloquist with a rather funny bone. He was made for gathering information about people and for this gift of his if he got a dime for every time he was wrong he could not even get on the bus to get to work. After getting of the bus, at the bus stop in front of the hospital a funny thing happened but he missed and he could not see. Even if he could see probably his face would hurt because of the recent punch he received on his face.

He liked laughing it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, for that he started laughing at the flight attendant who was trying to be polite and open the emergency room’s door for him. Flight attendant was a nice and naïve lady in his thirties. She had no thirties she was at most in twenties so she borrowed his thirties. As he was generous and was not much fond of his age and always wanted to cover it with a fond de teint or preferably a fondant. He had a big pendant which caught her hair. He was sorry but he did not want her to know. So instead he yelled at her to get out his way.

He : I yell at you to get out of my way!
She the Flight Attendant : What do you mean?
He : I mean get out.
She : Did you hit your head somewhere?
He : What do you mean? Are you the doctor? Who do you think you are with your fancy skirt and foulard do you think you can fool me? I know a predictor when I see one.
She : You don’t make any sense.
He : I don’t make sense, I don’t have to. It is not my profession to make sense. What do you want from me?
She : You are bleeding maybe it is better if you see a doctor, or a nurse.
He : So you think I am into you, eh? And you mean we shouldn’t see eachother, instead we should see other people. But how did you know that I like people with uniforms. Once I was in love with a nurse, a doctor, a fast-food chain-worker, Gandhi, a nun, a police, an Italian, and a Texan. What was I talking about?
She : Maybe there is an internal bleeding in your brain. Madam would you please check this guy, and would you please take him make him stop hugging me. I can not go out of the door because of him.
Madam : I do whatever I please.
She : So?
Madam : So today I want to practice what I preach and walk backwards.
She : Doesn’t this hospital have a policy against it?
Madam : Against walking backwards you mean?
She : No, against idiots.
He : You can not say that. Logically Challenged Citizen is the proper usage. Be polite.
She : Come on.
Madam : He is right you know. Foundation for the Logically Challenged enforces the usage of such.
He : People have to be politically correct. Otherwise politics would be full of wrong people.
She : Oh my how am I going to get rid of you? Please stop hugging me. And Madam you please stop kissing my neck.
Madam : I do whatever I please. I want to please you.
He : Madam is right. But I have to go. I am all out of trombonists. My blood does not clot anymore.
Doctor : It is not called trombonists.
She : Oh, finally a normal human being.
Doctor : Thanks ma’am.
She : You’re welcome. Please get me out of this. If my arms were not in cast in plaster I would get rid of them myself.
Doctor : I was not talking to little lady. I was talking to the Madam. Thank you for walking backwards and kissing her neck repeatedly. You are the finest example of what a politically correct person could do.
He : What about me?
Doctor : You are bleeding. Plus they are not trombonists. They are plastosytes.
He : I don’t care what instrument they play. And you can’t say bleeding. You can say bloodwise impaired.
She : Whatever the hell, I was going to scream if my head was not in a plaster cast.
He : I can solve that if you want.

And then he fainted of blood lust.
Doctor took the chance and thank the academy for the food on his table.
She rocked like a rolling stone.
Madam, as always, did whatever she pleased. As she already pleased her, she put more thought on planning a pleasant evening