YazA Story by vukcicSo I’s laying in bed, right? Just laying, trying to
sleep. Got a thing tomorrow I gotta do, there’s always something I
gotta do. Damn wife ain’t gonna make no money. So I’m here at some crap
motel in Poughkeepsie doin’ a overnight job downtown. Got this contract
for sewer pipes that’s drivin’ me crazy. They got these zonin’ laws
down here that just man. Make me wanna kill somebody. But yeah, layin’
in bed. Got done watchin’ this special of Yaz. Been watchin’ the Sox
since I was 5. My daddy took me to this game where Yaz hit his 44th
home run that year, what was that? ’66? ’67? I dunno. Somethin’ like
that.
Anyway, some guy starts bangin’ on my window like he owns the place, right, and I’m saying, “Who is this guy?” It’s like 2 am at this point. I can never sleep at these places, can’t concentrate, you know? Got too many distractions. Seriously, this joker starts just bangin’ on the window like he’s tryin’ ta bust it in. I get outta bed. I’m still wearin’ my clothes cuz I forgot to pack pajamas. Damn wife’s supposed to handle that. Soon’s I stand up and flick on the light this guy stops beating’ on the window. I walk over to it and look out there, and there ain’t anybody there, seriously. I unlock the door and open it. Shoulda brought my Ted Williams bat, might havta crack some skulls out here, if ya know what I mean. I look around, it’s dark and no one’s there. Where’d this putz get off to? So I’s pretty ticked off, ya know? I have a hard enough time at some dive away from my bed at home. So’s I lay down again, flip on the tv again. I’m pretty much thinkin’ at this point I’m gonna be up all night. And wuddya know, here’s this commercial for some girly thing called, get this, Yaz. Yeah, no lyin’! I guess it’s some thing or pill or somethin’ for girls. I dunno I didn’t pay attention cuz right then that joker’s back beatin’ on my window again. Seriously. So’s I get up again and run to the door an’ open it fast gettin’ ready to bust some heads. Nothin’ there. So’s I’m thinkin’ you know, what’s goin’ on here? Some sorta ghost or somethin’? So’s I hide behind the window curtain and wait for this guy to pop back up and start bangin’ away again. Nothin’ happens, I start noddin’ off. Start dreamin’ of a high stack a’ flapjacks. With blueberries. And butta. Lots a’ butta. Next thing I know, BANG! Joker at the window again, guess I fell asleep a lil. Scared me to high hell. I run outside again and there’s this ‘lil bird laying there on the sidewalk, flappin’ around like it’s stupid or somethin’. This the guy makin’ all that noise out here? Looks like he knocked himself loopy bangin’ into my window. After a little bit of flappin’ in a circle on the pavement it settles down, tired out. It starts squawkin’ all scared soundin’. I start feelin’ bad. I had this golden retriever when I was a kid back in Beantown. Named it Yaz, after you-know-who. He got his from a car one day when I was 6 or somethin’. Couldn’t handle it, my daddy had to put it in his car and drive off. I asked him where’s he goin’ and he just tells me it’s gonna be ok. He comes back without Yaz about an hour later and he tells me he’s at the dog hospital. ’Cept days go by and Yaz never comes back, then my daddy shows up one day after work with a puppy. I figured it out after awhile. I might be from Boston but I ain’t an idiot. So’s I’m lookin’ at this lil birdie, a lil brown and grey guy, pretty dull. I scoop him up and look at him. I can’t tell if he just knocked himself stupid or if he broke somethin’. I got nothin’ in the room to help him out so’s I get in my car and put him in the passenger seat. I thought about bucklin’ him in, which made me laugh. Ha, my lil birdie navigatuh, navigatin’ me straight into a window. I drive to this 24 hour drug store place down the street and ask the guy what to do. He don’t know, of course. He don’t even wanna touch him. Says he’s got all these diseases. Whateva, I tell ’im, gimme some gauze or somethin’. I by this cheap pair a sandals for the box and make this lil nest in there and set him in all gently. I think he’s startin’ to come to and it gets pretty easy to see he’s favorin’ his right wing. So I go back in an’ by a popsicle, for the stick, and I’m tryin’ to get the stick out but it’s a lot harder when you ain’t eatin’ it. I make a lil splint like I learned in boy scouts and put him back in the box. I tell him he better try relaxin’ if he wants to eat worms or whateva he does again. So then I drive back to the motel and get this it’s on fire. Yeah, I know, right? Just burnin’ away. Fire trucks and everythin’ just goin’ to town. I’m sittin’ in my car just watchin’. After a few minutes I get out and tell the birdie just sit there a minute. I grab a fireman and ask him what the hell. He tells me there’s some explosion in room 3, he thinks it was a gas leak or somethin’. I get chills cuz 3 was my room. Lil birdie saved my life by bein’ a bad flyer. I go back to my car to tell him thanks and tell him I was gonna go find some seeds for him to eat to pay him back but he’s gone, flew out my window. I’m just starin’ at the box filled with gauze and a popsicle stick and the fireman tells me to move my car cuz there’s bringin’ in another truck. I just get in and drive straight home. The sewers can fix themselves. I got this feelin’ I need to give my wife a hug and ask her how she’s doin’. © 2010 vukcicReviews
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Added on July 12, 2010Last Updated on July 13, 2010 |

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