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Chapter 6
I recalled the night my best friend, Ernie, was killed in an auto accident in 1970… somehow it was superimposed over the other-worldly sounds of Corpsmen loading litters of Marines onto my helicopter in Quang Tri province. Technicolor parades of taunting North Vietnamese soldiers marching down the Ho Chi Minh Trail in battalion strength between Laos and the DMZ greeted me. Their smiles and waves promised we’d meet again, as I flew over. I felt my femur snap as my chopper went down in an unsecured landing zone thirty-four clicks northeast of Khe Sahn. When they loaded me on the deuce-and-a-half to carry me to the aid station at Hue, the guy on the litter next to me asked me for a cigarette. I turned my head and saw my father lying there, eighty years old with eyes shut, taking his last labored breaths; even then all he could think about was smoking a cigarette.
“Get up, you damn drunk…” Trixie’s clammy hand slapped my face lightly. “Why can’t you behave yourself like your father?” She helped me to my feet and showed me the front door. “If I were him, I’d be a little more choosy about who I spent my time with. Now get the hell out of here!”
On the jukebox played "I Love You So Much It Hurts Me". John Prine croaked out the last bars of the ballad as I heard the door shut behind me. I love you so much, it hurts me…sooo.
Walking around the building to where I parked the car, I contemplated whether this was truly the end of… whatever it was that was happening. At least the air was fresh… I felt invigorated just being able to extricate myself from Trixie’s haunt. Plus, as an added bonus, there was no sign of Dad.
I pulled out of the parking lot, and headed west. I knew a little pizza joint called Paisan’s located about a mile down Colfax, and right now, the thought of one of Paisan’s gourmet pies was enticing.
“You know I don’t eat pizza, let’s go to Pfeiffer’s and get a steak.”
Dad's voice almost caused me to rear-end the car in front of me. Quickly, I veered over to the curb and slammed on the brakes. “Look, goddamn it, I’ve had about all of this I can take! Either tell me what the hell it is I’m supposed to be doing, or get your ass out of this car and go haunt somebody else! I’ve got three sisters whose heads you can go screw around with, you know. Go give them a chance to bare their souls…”
Grabbing the rim with both hands, I thrust my forehead into the center of the steering wheel as hard as I could, causing the horn to blare at passing pedestrians. Again and again I bashed my head into it, the staccato blasts causing a cacophony in the neighborhood.
Soon, I heard a tap on my side window and looked up into the sunglasses of a Denver policeman. I delicately punched the button and lowered the window.
“Y-yes, officer?
“Is there a problem here, sir?”
Oh, God, if you only knew. “Uh, no… I’m, umm, fine… very, uh… good, actually.” I said, shaking my head up and down like a ninny.
“Yea… uh-huh… may I see your driver’s license and registration, please, sir?”
Resignedly, I reached in my back pocket, pulled out my wallet and handed my driver’s license to the officer. My registration was in the glove compartment, so I stretched over to unlatch it. Dad was nowhere in sight. Reaching inside the plastic pouch I keep my important vehicle documents in, I took out the registration and proof of insurance and handed them to the officer.
“Okay, Mr. Church, just stay in the car, I’ll be right back.”
I leaned back in my seat, forcing my head and neck onto the headrest, and sighed audibly. Feeling quite lost now, I turned my head slightly and again my father was sitting in the front passenger seat.
“It was only a suggestion…” The leprechauns were back...
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