a past revealed

        A tiny brass bell tinkled overhead as Artie Hoffman opened the door. The bookshop appeared diserted. Taped music piped something from "Hearts of Space."
        "Hello to Camp! Emrys!"
        He peered around a folding lattice wood screen. Nobody. A box of books shipped from Magikal Childe lay unopened, Most odd. Usually Emrys Lloyd would stop everything, even taking a crap, when ever a parcel arrived. A draught of dry August air touched his face and he noticed that the backdoor had flown open. He could see the porch and he could smell the reefer.
        "Hey you old stoner! Answer up."
        "Hi, Scoop."
        The bookseller resembled Gandalf. He wore a cloak and his beard was long. Blue eyes twinkled beneath a floppy wizard's cap. He did not wash often, but frequently doused himself with Old Spice. A fragrence decidedly California Red permiated the area.
         "I'm surprised you aren't unpacking the new books."
         "Yeah well, today's different."
         "Oh?"
         "Fucking Brother Ambrose."
         "What'd he do?"
         "Took off with my girl."
         "Which girl?"
         "Sonya."
         "Where'd he take her?"
         "Away from me. The shit-heel."
         "Hard words. But you don't look THAT broke up about it."
         "Great fucking grass, dude."


                                                                                 *


        Brother Ambrose was doing something he had not done since he and a woman named Cherry Blossom swam naked in Otter Creek. Sonya Chekov rose from the cold water pond and marched ashore. Brother Ambrose met her with his patented erection. He grasped both buttocks and squeezed hard. She gasped, grinned wantonly and took him in hand.
         "Tell me more," she commanded.
         "I was married once, long ago, down in Oregon. We were hippies living on the land."
         "Easy-going, I'll bet."
         "Very easy," he replied, bringing her to earth.