The Celestial Instructi0n Read Online Free Page B

undistinguished homeless bum on the street?
    Joex could not think of a single reason why anyone
would want to be his caput mortuum. What? Death’s head? Where had that phrase
come from? “Bums don’t talk like that,” Joex whispered into the air, “that was
another life.” He was considering the most likely ways of attracting his
stalker to a place of his own choosing, but as if aligning to his thoughts, on
the north side of the plaza across from the showers, he saw the silver GMC
Suburban SUV with the sea-green windows slowly enter and park in a red zone.
    “Joe X Baroco. ‘X’ marks the spot, old buddy,
crosshairs, Christ on a cross,” he mumbled to himself. He wheeled around and
walked widdershins to the traffic, away from the showers and behind the
Suburban that would eventually wrap around to the rear of the SUV. He walked
just fast enough so that his gait could still be described as shambling—looking
into the storefronts, away from the massive SUV: “I just don’t have the fucking
balls for this,” Joex said, loud enough to be specifically ignored by a
passer-by.
    Joex’s self-assessed half-assed plan was this. If
the stalker left the Suburban, and left it unlocked, Joex was going to get
behind the back of the broad cargo seat. He would wait for a surprise
opportunity to get a story out of his stalker, by force. Use deadly force, if
necessary. We are going to dance a deadly gavotte, you and I. Joex had no idea
of this would work: was the stalker alone? Was the SUV vulnerable? Was there
sufficient space to hide? Could he surprise someone who likely trained and
practiced for his task? All of those objections became irrelevant as Joex
settled into visualize each step of his plan. Rehearsing it with variations as
fast as his sluggish brain would fire. “This doesn’t suit me, man,” Joex
whispered. His left hand shook. Overall, Joex sought some kind of resolution to
the end of his life, and it might as well happen now.
    The tall man with the undecipherable complexion got
out of the driver’s side and, as Joex, began to walk counter-clockwise around
the edge of the plaza. The man kept his eyes on the building with the showers
across the street through the palm trees and topiary of the plaza gardens. Again,
he made the betraying brush of his hip.
    “Time for a puff of sharav.” Joex gauged his
ambling so that he would reach the SUV at the same time the wiry man—Joex
decided to call him Mr. Brillo—reached the front of the shower building. “How
in the hell did he know I was here? How in the hell?” As Joex had anticipated,
Mr. Brillo reached the front of the building and immediately started around the
side toward the back fronting the showers entrance, stepping up his pace. “I’ve
got about half a minute now.”
    Joex too jogged forward and quickly surveyed the empty
SUV through its unfathomable windows. In one fluid motion as if he were taking
home the weekly groceries, went to the driver side, opened the door, climbed
in, and looked for the best way of concealing himself in the back. His eyes
stopped when they saw the keys left in the ignition. Joex changed plans, settled
into the driver’s seat, put on his seat belt, locked the door, started the Suburban
with a satisfying visceral roar. He signaled his entry into traffic and merged
with the autos leaving the plaza for the coastal highway.  It was all magically
easy.
    While he had not driven for a very long time, Joex
felt as if he were fifteen again and given the wheel of a car for the first
time. As the powerful machine got up to speed, Joex loosened the silk tie
coiled around his neck like a scarf and began a syncopated crooning to the air.

Chapter 9
     
    Joex’s elation did not last long. He drove a few
minutes heading north on 101 and began to glance obsessively in the SUV
side-mirrors. “If Mr. Brillo has clout with the locals, then I got to let this
puppy go.” He took the exit to the Mad Landing beach and parked in the day
camping