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listen to the water

March 18, 2007

Rudy called:
“ He wants to see you this afternoon”, more deadpan than usual.
“ You comin “
“ Nope, just you”.
“ Wha’d you hear “?
“ Nuthin’. He just wants to talk to you”.
“Okay. If you see anybody, tell ‘em around one-thirty”.
“Pooch, afternoon is after noon”.
Rudy had heard something, but he wasn’t talking. Could be bad, could be good. Either way, I was going to be at the club the dot of twelve-o-one. Sometimes Rude was readable by little things in his voice. I could,anyway.
“ So Rude, who you collectin’ today”?
“ Gotta go Poochie……call me up later on, awright”?
That was the only thing extra coming out of Rudy today, He was not giving up shit. Except he knew I would call, so why ask?
“OK, Rude,……take it slow”.
He did not answer, just hung up. I shut off the TV and went to the shower. Anne Marie popped into my mind. She had been doing that for a little while now, especially when I had some wood going. Right then I was sporting blue steel my Uncles’ tomcat couldn’t scratch. Was it the toughie or Slats came first? Hard to say, but the water was already running. I liked to sit on the john and wait for the water to change tune. Cold water made one sound and when the stream warmed up the sound got different. Then was time to pull off the sweats and climb in.

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