The Gravy Canoe of Wild Wyoming – 7

Steel Brandenburg III moved through his overpriced apartment in Berlin, Wyoming like an Isosceles tornado. Veronica Eyes was leaving Mango’s Tangle and getting ever closer. It didn’t take long to get anywhere in the realm of Berlin, Wyoming.

His place was a mess because he rarely had guests. He found a chunk of cheese hidden within the trunks of fibers of the living room carpet. He had no idea how it got there. But it was hiding like a little fuzzy Dr. Seuss character. He picked it up, opened the front door, and tossed it out into the park-like courtyard. He thought he heard a tiny scream as it sailed through the crisp, night air.

Steel’s thoughts then turned to Veronica. He wondered if she would be worked up and wet when she arrived. He wondered; would she finally be willing? He went to the doorway of his bedroom and glanced at the messy bed. It’s been six years since he has shared a bed with anyone. He’s gone six years without even a kiss or a hand to hold. He went to tidy up the bed, fluff the pillows. He worried if he was clean enough. What if she wanted to go down on him. Would she suddenly jerk her head away because he was gross? But there was no time to shower. He worried about all that. Steel was always worried about something. Wyoming was a good place to worry about things. Being in the hollow echo of Wyoming made it easier because one was usually cold and alone.

Steel looked out a window just as a set of headlights came bouncing into the night light parking lot. He watched and waited. The door opened. She slid out and looked up. Steel moved away from the window quickly and went toward the front door. He was overly eager and pulled it open just as she was coming up the stairs.

“Hey,” he said. His nervousness was vaguely apparent.

Veronica handed him a paper bag. “I brought more beer.”

“Oh, how sweet of you,” Steel said, and he quickly regretted his choice of words… “How sweet of you?”

She had taken notice and gave him a look. “Okay,” she smirked as she moved past him. He breathed her in, and she had the scent of night rain and spray paint, cue chalk and throbbing womanhood. She was so cool and collected, he thought. She handled life like it was meant to be handled. How did she do it? Did she ever shed a tear? he asked himself. She was so out of his realm of existence. It was like he was Mercury and she was Pluto.

They sat on his couch. There was a good bit of space between them. They drank more beer until they both had reignited their buzz. Steel fell into the look of her face as she talked. Her eyes were like some explosive spinning star in space. Her skin was smooth. Her dark hair flowed from her head haphazardly. She twisted her mouth in endless expressive shapes. Her smile was clean and wet. Steel wanted to reach out and touch her. When would he ever have such a perfect shot at it? Here she was, in his home getting drunk. She seemed happy. She was smiling and laughing as they talked about work and life in a nonsensical way. And of course, she was the one that suggested she come over.

“Why don’t you move a little closer,” he finally said. “I feel as if there is this great chasm between us. I’m not Evel Knievel you know.”

“Huh? You’re weird.” She laughed and scrunched her face. “Are you going to try and kiss me or something?”

His longing for her tumbled like a gymnast on crack. “Would that be a problem?”

“Women don’t want men to ask… Just do it.”

Steel moved closer. He put his hand at the back of her head and pulled her in. The thrust of her tongue came quickly. He was surprised by that but took all of it he could. She moaned. She clamped her hands to his face and pushed him down onto the couch and crawled on top of him. Her hair fell upon him like soft rain as she continued to forcefully mash her face to his. Steel wrapped his arms around her average frame and held her close. The warm weight of her against him felt like all of astrology coming true. She suddenly sat back up and worked her top off. Her bra was purple. He wanted to burn funeral incense and he didn’t know why. He suddenly felt religious as her flesh became spiritual in his hands.

“Where’s your bedroom?” she breathed. Her mouth glistened in the soft light of a dime-store table lamp with a tilted, yellowed shade.

Steel motioned with his head of quaking diamonds and dust. She took him by the hand and led him that way. Halfway there and with heat in the air, there came the sound of someone yelling from outside, down in the parking lot. Yelling through a megaphone. Steel’s first thought was that it was the police. Veronica was trying to frame him for rape, he worried. His heart pounded as he rushed to the living room window and moved aside the curtain. His murmur was puzzlement. “What the hell?”

Carrie Gould from the newspaper was standing in the middle of the parking lot barking butchered poetry and love psalms through the device she held to her mouth. “I forgive you, Steel Brandenburg. I forgive you because I know you are more than the bad words that come out of your mouth. I know you are more than a dirty trick or a prank. I forgive you because I love you!”

“Ah fuck,” Steel moaned. “What the hell is she doing!?”

Veronica came up behind him and her warm breath hit his ear like magical wind. “Looks like you have a stalker.” She laughed and pulled away.

“What should I do?”

Veronica went back over to the couch and slipped her shirt back on. “I don’t know, pal. But I suppose we’ll have to make it another time. That is unless you get married or something.” She popped open a fresh beer and began to drink it. “Want me to go out there and say something to her?”

“No… Maybe if we just ignore her, she’ll go away.”

“Chicks like that don’t ever just go away,” she told him. “You’re going to need to be forceful.”

He turned to look at her. “The only one I want to be forceful with is you. I guess you could say I only have eyes for you, Veronica Eyes.”

She laughed at him, but then turned serious when he came to her and stood before her. He undid his pants and let them fall. Then he guided her with his hand on her head as beyond the walls and windows Carrie Gould trumpeted the glories of her infatuation: “I love you Steel Brandenburg!”


Your thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.