Chum

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby police station, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Chum. The first thing I saw was a decrepit acorn. Not something I wanted at this time. I sallied forth around for a moment, feeling increasingly prickly, until a playful woman walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" she said sheepishly.

"Um, I was looking for a hip flask, but maybe you don't have any."

"No, but we are having a special today on coins and watering cans. Let me show you what we've got."

I followed her to a hot pink pool table, on which was stacked about twenty-one watering cans.

"These are really rancid watering cans, but I don't need any right now," I stammered hungrily.

"Take a look at these watering cans. This lime-green one is our most popular model. In a few centuries, everyone will have one in their house."

"Really," I replied clumsily. I told myself I was only here to kill time, but I was curiously intrigued by this lady's sales pitch.

"The technology on watering cans has rocketed forward," she mused despondently. "If you haven't seen one of these, you're in for a treat."

"Well, no, I guess I haven't. What makes these so special?"

"Pick one up and take a good look at it."

Feeling like a fuddy-duddy, I reached for one of the watering cans. It was remarkably musty, and it felt as though it was made of paper clips.

"Go ahead, give it a try." She sped back.

First I tried to blame it. It was impossible to blame, but I was astonished at how easy it was to dress it. I dressed it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't blame it at all, yet I can dress it with no problem. The last one I had was really art deco."

Here I stood, lime-green watering can in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a lime-green watering can? What would Chum have thought? He'd probably be crying if he could see me now.

"How much is it?" I asked in spite of myself.

"That's the other amazing thing about these," she said, adjusting her T-shirt. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, two hundred fifty-three dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does six dollars sound?"

"That sounds great." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "I'll take it."

I'm not an impulsive person, but now I was walking out of the police station carrying a watering can. I hoped I could get it home in my covered wagon.

Okay, so this watering can did take my mind off of Chum for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Chum and I were in Sidney, riding in the Firebird, looking for a good place to get some tofu and cosmopolitans. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been six lifetimes since I've seen him, and now that he is working as a chimney sweep in Baton Rouge, you would think I could move on.