About God and Missy Titus and Stuff

“I didn’t have sex with Bonnie McKinnon! Why do you think I did? Why would I lie to you, Quinton?”

“Maybe because you’re a dick-head, Jasper! Maybe because I’m planning to marry her and you know it and you’re jealous, and maybe because you’re a piss-ant, piece of shit, fuck-head!”

“Whoa,” said Jasper. He put his wrist to his forehead and pretended to stagger in place. They were standing out in front of “Long’s Drugstore” across the street from the abortion clinic. It was five minutes to twelve noon. “Now you just hold on there, Quinton!” Jasper said. He waved his index finger back and forth in front of Quinton’s face. “’Dick-head, piece of shit, fuck-head’--fine! I won’t argue with that…But ' piss-ant ’, Quinton? I don’t even know how angry I should get over that one…What is a ‘piss-ant’, exactly? It better not mean anything like a Commie!”

“That’s it! Let’s go!” said Quinton. “You and me, right here, right now!”

“We can’t fight out here, Quinton! We’re in the middle of the Save the Un-Born demonstration!”

“Oh, we can’t, can’t we?” said Quinton He put his metal briefcase down on the sidewalk and took his glasses off and put them in the inside pocket of his dark blue suite coat. “Right here! Right now!” he said again.

He began to circle around Jasper using the small space they had on the narrow sidewalk.

Jasper was going to do the old trick. The one that only idiots fall for and fall for every time! You say, “Holly shit!” and point-- “Look at that!”

It would have been so easy with Quinton being dumber than a tree stump, but this was not what the Internal Revenue Service was paying Jasper for. He was well trained as an agent now, and he needed Quinton. He had a mission and his mission was to get inside the Young Republicans Club. He was to become one of them, and eventually, with a little time, a little smoke and mirrors, and of course a heady dose of good , old-fashioned righteous indignation--he would get in, and not only get in, but take the joint over. He now knew the bible, literally, both chapter and verse.

He took a deep breath. He needed to be strong. And just then, like some sort of weird cosmic bad joke, at that moment (behind Quinton), Jasper caught sight of Old Missy Titus falling to her hands and knees in the middle of Alamo Street. It happened like in slow-motion. Missy Titus hobbling across the busy street with her grocery cart—then Boom--Missy Titus on her hands and knees.

Quinton heard the shopping cart when it fell over with a huge metal screech and he turned around. Jasper stood beside him. They looked out at the street where cars slowed and eventually stopped. Apples rolled and milk puddled around Missy Titus, who was damn near ninety, and seemed now stunned and unable to move.

“Do you really want to help the un-born?” Quinton said turning back to Jasper.

“All I want to do is the right thing, Quinton! I want to save unborn babies! Everybody else can take care of themselves, but the un-born, Quinton! Who do they have! ”

“Do you mean that, Jasper?”

“Boys!” Missy Titus called from the street.

“God is my witness, Quinton!”

“Boys!”

They could see the picket signs and the people out in front of the little medical office grouping together down the street. Television crews were unloading equipment and traffic cops on horseback rode slowly past the demonstrators to let their presence known.

Horns began to honk at Missy Titus who was still on her knees in the street.

“Please… boys…” she called.

“Well, okay,” said Quinton. He looked at Jasper in the eyes to make sure Jasper was sincere.

Finally Quinton stuck a Young Republicans button into Jasper’s lapel. He gave it a pat and held out his hand to shake. “You’re going to need a red tie.”

“No problem,” said Jasper. “I got four or five red ties and one has little white crosses on
it!”

“That’s good,” said Quinton. “That’s real good!” The two began to walk up the street.

Jasper caught sight of three or four IRS agents on the adjoining roof. They had binoculars and cameras with two foot long lenses.

“And you really and truly didn’t sleep with Bonnie?”

“No! You got to believe me!”

“That’s good,” said Quinton. “That’s real good!”

“Don’t worry about a thing,” said Jasper. He saw Bonnie in the crowd and he saw Bonnie touch her index finger to corner of her right eye. In IRS speak, roughly translated, that meant, How’s it going?

Jasper scratched his nose and put his left hand in his pocket--which meant The operation is proceeding as planed. Then he licked his lips, which meant something else entirely, and Bonnie’s face turned beat red and she quickly looked away.

--827 words--