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by Bradley Mason Hamlin
He came to my door and knocked.
I answered, because you can’t let them pound out there, the Mormons, the
mailmen, the neighbors, and the madmen.
I looked at him through the locked metal screen door. This one had a face
nailed together by schoolteachers, cops, vicious broads, and bad genes.
He looked at me in my Spongebob Squarepants pajama bottoms and Mystery
Island t-shirt. “Are you,” he asked, “the man of the house?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Great, I’m talking to all the parents in the neighborhood. Do you have kids?”
“Why?” I asked.
I don’t think he’d ever been asked that before. He said, “Um, well, uh …”
“Are you selling something?” I asked him.
“No,” he said. “Not selling, I’m just talking …”
I looked at the big duffel bag of books at his feet and asked: “What’s in the
bag?”
“Well,” he said, “we’re offering …”
“You’re selling,” I said. “At 7:30 in the morning, you’re banging on my door
and you’re selling.”
I pointed to the sign placed in clear view just to the right of the door as he
stood facing me. The sign read:
NO SOLICITORS
OR SALESPEOPLE OF ANY KIND
NO RELIGIOUS PEOPLE
OR REALTORS
IF YOU DO NOT HAVE AN APPOINTMENT
DO NOT KNOCK ON THIS DOOR
GIRL SCOUT COOKIES OKAY
“Are you,” I asked, “selling Girl Scout cookies?”
He let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, this is educational for children …”
“Do you think I want you to educate my kids before I’ve had a chance to have a
fucking cup of coffee?”
“What? Uh, no … I’ve just been talking to your neighbors, and I, uh …” He
reached down to pick up his bag of books and make his getaway.
“Come in,” I said.
“Huh? What? Really?”
“Yeah, let’s see what you’ve got to offer.” I opened the screen door and
stepped out of the way to let the stranger inside.
“Come on into the kitchen,” I said.
“Thank you.”
I poured a cup of coffee for myself and reached into the high cupboard for
some “sweetener” and poured the contents into his cup. “Here,” I said, “have a
cup.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay.”
“Well,” I said, “if you’re not willing to have a cup of coffee with me I’m sure the
hell not going to buy a sack of encyclopedias.”
“Well, I’m not exactly selling anything …”
I set the coffee in front of him inside a mug that had big wiggly letters written
on the side:
HELL IS
THE ABSENCE OF
ENLIGHTENMENT
We drank as I looked at the big books he “wasn’t selling.” The drug came on
quickly as it always does when consumed in hot liquid. His heart seized up and
as he dropped off of the kitchen stool I was there to catch him so he wouldn’t
make a loud crashing noise and wake up the kids.
I dragged his body to the garage and bagged him up in a couple heavy-duty
garbage bags. I’d put him on ice after breakfast.
My wife came out in her bathrobe, her hair waving out at Medusa angles. I liked
her like that. Sleepy-eyed and sexy.
“Is there coffee?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said, “and we got some free books for the kids.”
“Huh? Free books?”
“Yeah, encyclopedias or Bible stories. Something like that.”
“I hope they’re encyclopedias,” she said.
I poured another cup. “Right,” I said. “They’ve had enough fiction with all that
Spongebob crap they’ve been watching.”
She looked at my pajama bottoms and sipped her coffee. “Is there any fresh
meat in the garage?” she asked.
“Yeah, but we’ve still got a piece of that Mormon in the ice box.”
“He didn’t taste so good,” she said.
“Yeah,” I nodded my head in agreement, “Mormons are the worst. What about
the clown from the children’s party?”
I hadn’t seen the kids come into the kitchen.
“The clown!” they shouted. “He tastes funny!” Then they laughed and laughed
and laughed. They always loved that old Popsicle stick joke.
Bradley Mason Hamlin is a writer,
editor, and publisher, born in Los
Angeles and currently living in “Capital
City” Sacramento, California with his
beautiful wife Nicky and their many
amazing children. His poetry, short
stories, and articles have appeared in
books of selected writings,
anthologies, and several magazines and
newspapers in print and on line.
Brad & his wife Nicky own Mystery Island
Publications and publish an ongoing
in-print literary pop culture magazine
called: Mystery Island Magazine.
Recent work includes the editing and
formatting of Tough Company by
singer/songwriter Tom Russell,
featuring: Charles Bukowski. Brad is
also the creator of the metaphysical
crime series: Monster Zipper, featuring
the Intoxicated Detective. For more
information about Hamlin and other wild
things—visit: www.mysteryisland.net
