dos hombres

        Brother Ambrose tackled Scoop and they crashed onto Sonya Chekov's black shellacked Japanese teatable. The newsman was heavier than the preacher, so he was able to roll on top and pin his friend to the carpet. Both widowers laughing like magpies.
        "Ziggy!"
        "Artie!"
        "Motherfuckers!" Sonya shouted from the doorway. "The fuck ya done to my table?"
        Sheepishly they surveyed the damage.
        Like a doofus ER intern giving prognosis on roadkill, Brother Ambrose replied, "Oh, it'll be fine. Gorilla Glue can fix it."
        "Goddamn it, Ambro! That's classic furniture!"
        Scoop straightened up, knees popping. "The two of us will take care of it."
        Sonya began to cry.
        "Oh, babe," Brother Ambrose cooed. "I'm sorry. Real sorry. We'll make good on it."
        "Get out! The two of you. Get out!"


                                                                                         *


         Coffee and apple pie at Frenchie's. Old friends. Just like Simon and Garfunkle.
         Scoop asked first, "What brought you here?"
         "Wandering. Just wandering. My new life began at Sweet Creek Falls. Left Ziggy behind and ended up in Eugene. Met a fine old woman there. Then the Skell Van began to whinney and knicker, telling me it was time to hit the road. Wow, far out, this is too much!"
         "Yeah man." Scoop paused, wondering how to begin his story. All the years at Lotus Land, the K'lid K'iyass, Kelly Alabama, Leah. "Many years, many trails."
         Saddle pals.