The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presents "Never Say Never: An Epic Journey – Volume One, Part Nine - I See Dead People""

The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presents "Never Say Never: An Epic Journey – Volume One, Part Nine - I See Dead People"

In the chilling aftermath of laying his biological father to rest in the city cemetery of Holton, Kansas, on a cold March day in 1979, The GYPSY finds himself chauffeured to Lee Roy's wake. As he journeys through this emotional landscape, he continues to reflect on the elusive connection he shares with the father he never had the chance to know.

Simultaneously, the narrative takes a compelling plunge into the past, transporting readers to 1959. Shirley, The GYPSY's mother, experiences the shattering of her dream life with the man she loves when he commits a grisly and horrendous murder. The repercussions of this heinous act send shockwaves through Shirley's world, causing her to spiral further down into the depths of her mental illness.

"Never Say Never: An Epic Journey – Volume One, Part Nine" weaves together the threads of past and present, creating a narrative tapestry that is both haunting and evocative. 
The story unfolds with a masterful blend of suspense and emotion, inviting readers to explore the intricacies of familial bonds and the enduring impact of long-buried secrets. The cold March day serves as a metaphorical backdrop, mirroring the chilling revelations that shape the trajectory of The GYPSY's journey.

Part Nine promises to be a compelling chapter that resonates long after the final page is turned, leaving listeners eagerly anticipating the next twists and turns in this extraordinary saga.

PLEASE NOTE: This is a rebroadcast of a podcast episode from 11/22/2021. I stopped podcasting to help my wife through her battle with stage 4 breast cancer. My wife recovered and I am now ready to start podcasting once more. Over the next couple of months, I will be reposting my past podcasts and will start new episodes in January 2024. 

“Like a Rubber Biskit, I have spent my life bouncing from here to there and back to here again.”  -The GYPSY-

"NEVER SAY NEVER: AN EPIC JOURNEY - VOLUME ONE" is now available on Amazon in Kindle, Paperback and Hardcover Book form. CLICK HERE!

I'm The GYPSY and You're Not and This Is The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presented By Artist Alley Studio Featuring The Artisan, Handcrafted and Branded Creations of The GYPSY and Mad Hatter. Visit Us At www.ArtistAlleyStudio.com

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Visit The Rubber Biskit Road Show On The Web At  www.RubberBiskit.com
Tatman Productions LLC. Copyright 2021 - All Rights Reserved. No Parts of The Podcast May Be Copied, Reproduced or Used Without The Express Written Permission Of The Artist.

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Transcript

CHAPTER NINE: I SEE DEAD PEOPLE

You would not give what I have gave 

What did you gain, what did you save? 

Shaping words not my own 

Recalling memories never shown 

A touch, connection which cannot stand 

Left on the surface of the cold still hand 

I twirled the end of the cigarette between my fingers feeling the heat come off the glowing red tobacco as I forced the smouldering cherry from the end of the smoke. I watched the burning ember hit the hard ground and I could hear the sizzle as the wetness swallowed the cherry. I had no desire to disrespect the dead by tossing my cigarette on the ground in this sacred place. 

I looked towards the coffin and the small group gathered near it. Some were standing but most were sitting in the folding chairs that faced the coffin like the seats in a theatre. 

The funeral director with an air of solemnity that he performed on a daily basis lifted the lid of the casket and busied himself with laying back the shroud and tidying up the body. He did this swiftly with his back to the assembled audience like a magician preparing to amaze and astound. Observe an empty box, PRESTO a body. 

The undertaker silently moved away from the casket and folded his hands in silent reverence. I slowly approached this odd tableau that I did not want to be a part of. 

As I drew nearer, I could see the tip of a nose then a rounded head with dark greased back thinning hair. A paisley shirt and burgundy polyester leisure suit hung loosely upon a thin, gaunt body. 

I drew closer to the casket, all eyes upon me, boring into my back and pushing me onward. I looked down upon a face made of wax, a mannequin dug out of the dusty storeroom of a defunct department store. Someone as some sort of cruel joke had painted the mannequin to resemble a thinner, older version of me. Was it made of plaster? It could be or maybe plastic. 

I reached out a trembling left hand and touched the shoulder of the wine coloured polyester. My hand rested there for a moment as I studied the features and let my gaze drift down to the bloodless hands crossed one over the other. 

Wow, what detail they get into these mannequin’s. It actually looks like real hair on the back of the hand and on the fingers. Fingers, finger, ring finger, empty… I looked at my left hand, the hand that rested on the shoulder of the mannequin, the hand upon where the middle finger held a ring. The ring had rested upon that finger since 1968 and had only been removed three times. Each time it had been removed I had suffered a broken bone so suffice it to say I was more than a little superstitious about it and its significance. 

Now standing here, in this mist on this cold grey day next to this overpriced box that held the earthly remains of Lee Roy Everett George the true significance of the ring suddenly hit me like a rock fired from the sling of a Shepherd boy. The ring had belonged to the man in the box. 

The ring had been a promise of love, a promise that had been broken. The ring had been given to my father by my Mother and later to me by my Mother as a connection to my Father. 

My Father who now lay pale and silent before me and no longer belonged to this earth but who would soon be beneath her surface. Oh God, the rain has blocked out my vision, my breath is gone, and my heart now lives in my throat. 

*** 

Shirley’s pregnancy had been difficult. She had contracted toxaemia and had almost lost the baby. 

Little Jimmy had been born exactly two months to the day premature at 8:35pm on October 25th of 1956. He had been a King James birth; his head twisted around backwards which the Doctor had corrected before the small baby had left the birth canal. 

Shirley thought that the child had looked like a little peanut and had sobbed with joy when they placed the small squirming bundle in her arms. She had a miracle baby and Lee Roy had a son. 

Lee had been driving a taxi in Houston and Shirley had been able to get a call through to him the day after the baby was born. They had both agreed that James was a perfect name for their child considering the circumstances of his birth. They had also decided to give him the middle name of Alan. Not because it had any special significance but because it just seemed to flow off the tongue, James Alan George. 

After the incident in Houston with Wesley, Lee Roy had moved the pregnant Shirley up to Topeka, Kansas and placed her into the care of her mother. Pearl did not like Lee Roy and made no effort to hide it, but she had remarked to Shirley that she had been thankful for him to, “Have enough sense to bring Shirley home where she could get proper care.” 

Shirley, for her part, was actually thankful that the incident with Wesley had occurred. 

Ever since it had happened, she no longer felt as if Lee Roy’s affections were split between her and Wilma. Lee had become very devoted to her. It was Lee Roy who had returned home to find Wesley forcing himself on Shirley and it had been Lee Roy who had hurtled the body of his brother into the television set. Lee Roy had a temper and it had been on full display that night. It was all he could do not to kill Wesley for his trespass. 

Lee Roy gave up the Merchant Marines to drive Yellow Cabs and had gone back to the logging camps. He had told Shirley that when he wasn’t logging up North, he would work in the Texas oil fields for the good money to make a life for them and their baby. Lee Roy had been good to his word and was even now setting up a home for the three of them in Texas. 

***

Shirley stood in front of the jewellery counter at Pelletier’s department store looking at the wedding sets. Lee Roy had promised her that they would be married as soon as he could get Wilma to agree to a divorce. Wilma had been fighting him refusing to let go but Shirley was confident that Wilma would eventually give in and turn Lee loose. So, until that time Shirley would continue to browse, and window shop the stores for those things that would one day make the wedding she dreamed of the most glorious moment of her life. 

Shirley had been at the counter for a quarter hour looking at and trying on rings. She was just starting to move away when a glint of light caught her eye. At the back of the case amid the many displays of diamond and gold rings a single black velvet finger stood at a slightly arched angle. Upon this finger rested a wedding set consisting of the man’s band, the woman’s band and the engagement ring. There was really nothing unusual or spectacular about the set that made it more outstanding than any of the other sets. It was in fact almost too simple in its way when compared to the other sets around it. 

The engagement ring was a simple gold band with a small quarter carat diamond solitaire. The woman’s band consisted of another simple gold band in which small divots were cut around the top and bottom edge of the ring. Between the divots the ring bowed slightly out creating a curved effect. The man’s band echoed the design of the woman’s band except that it was a little larger and wider in size. 

No, there was really nothing special that would make this set outstanding except its simplicity. It was the purity of design that attracted Shirley. She had always felt that as complicated as the relationship between her and Lee Roy had been that their love was simple and pure. She felt that this set in the diamond solitaire represented the complexities of their relationship while the bands were a symbol of the simplicity of their love. 

“Harrumph!” 

The sound brought Shirley out of her revelry making her jump. She turned to see Mr. Harrison, the floorwalker, standing at her left elbow. 

“Mr. Harrison you startled me.” Shirley said as she placed a hand over her heart. 

“Evidently!” he dryly intoned, “And does your mother know you are here?” 

Shirley hated his pompous attitude and snooty manner. Does he think he is talking to a child? “No Harrison, my Mommy doesn’t know I am here. Why don’t you run upstairs and tell her. Or perhaps you would like a dozen vestal virgins to carry you up while naked children throw rose petals at your feet.” 

Shirley knew that the suggestion of Harrison’s rumoured desire for younger lovers would get under his skin. She doubted if he had ever dated anyone under eighteen but for a man nearing 50 Shirley found it disgusting that most of the women, he was seen with looked like girls barely out of High school. 

Harrison tugged at the corners of his slick grey vest, brushed off the sleeves of his immaculate black wool jacket, readjusted the red rose in his lapel hole, cleared his throat and turned to leave and said, “Ladies.” Slightly dipping his head and touching the edge of his mustache Harrison walked away. 

Ladies? Why did he say ladies? 

“I think you hurt his feelings!” 

Shirley turned around to see Alice Mc Elwain standing on the other side of the jewellery counter. 

This was her department and she ruled it with the pride that comes from the knowledge that it was her efforts that kept this department running smoothly and making a profit for the company. 

“Oh, Hi Alice,” Shirley said a little sheepishly, “How long have you been there?” 

Alice shook her greying head and let a small smile across her lips, “Long enough,” came her reply. 

  “He just really pisses me off,” Shirley stammered, “What I am doing is none of his business!” 

Alice shook a finger at Shirley, “Language dear,” she admonished. Shirley grimaced under the reprimand. Alice and Pearl were best friends and at times Shirley felt like she was talking to her mother when she spoke with Alice. 

“He thinks he owns the store,” Alice chuckled, “Sometimes I wish I could live within my delusions.” 

Shirley sighed, “Do you think he’ll tell mom what I said?” She asked. 

“Without a shadow of a doubt,” answered Alice. “The little weasel is probably in her office now re-enacting the whole scene.” 

Both women looked up as if they could see through the ornate tin ceiling and into Pearls second floor office. 

“So, were we doing a little daydreaming dear?” Alice asked. 

Shirley blushed as Alice nodded her head and reached below the counter. 

“Here,” she said sliding a layaway form across the counter and laying a pen on top of it, “fill this out.” 

Shirley looked at the form and back up at Alice who was removing the wedding set from the velvet finger. 

“Hurry dear, your mom will be here any moment and we don’t want to let her in on our little secret, do we?” 

*** 

The steel grey of the morning had given way to the milky white of the afternoon. I surveyed the dirt road that ran east and west in front of the small nondescript farm house. We had left the grave site only a mere 15 minutes before and had now arrived at Cousin Dwayne’s home for the wake. The term “Wake” for the morbid party that takes place after family and friends plant their dearly departed loved ones in the ground seemed inappropriate when you considered that one member of the party would never wake again. Cast party or maybe casket party would be a more exact description of the events that take place after your goodbyes are said. 

I looked at my hands and saw that dirt was still clinging to my hands from the clump I had thrown on top of Lee Roy’s coffin as it was slowly lowered into the cold, wet earth. The entry door entered the small house into the kitchen. I spied the bathroom door off to one side and quickly entered locking the door behind me. I emptied my bladder then turned to wash my hands in the small old fashioned porcelain covered steel sink. 

As I scrubbed the dirt of the graveyard from my hands, I stared at myself in the mirror. A familiar yet not so familiar face, whose counterpart now laid buried six feet underground, looked back at me. I splashed cold water on my face trying to wash away the red puffiness of my eyes. I knew that in the more personal confines of the small farm house that I could not escape the inquisition that was sure to come. 

I leaned over and took a long pull from the stream of icy water that was flowing from the ancient chrome faucet. Well water, I love the taste of Kansas well water. There is a certain taste to the Kansas variety of well water that makes it seem almost alive. I don’t know if it’s the slight saline content or the minerals it carries but it has a flavour unlike any other water on earth. I took another long pull from the faucet and prepared to go out and greet my inquisitors. 

*** 

Shirley splashed cold water on her face from the shiny chrome faucet trying to wash away the red puffiness from her eyes. She had been crying all afternoon and each time she thought she had cried all she could break down again into fits of uncontrollable sobs. She could hear little Jimmy in the next room playing with the toy train that Lee Roy had got for him just a few days before. “Chug a chug a chug a chug a, toot, toot,” came the small voice of her son as she sat down on the closed lid of the stool and buried her face into the towel. The towel held Lee Roy’s scent; he must have used it that morning when he took a shower. She inhaled deeply and broke down into uncontrollable sobs again. 

Damn that nigger, damn that nigger to hell with his stupid practical joke that had cost him his life and Lee Roy his freedom. 

“Oh Gawd,” she wailed, “Why my Lee, why?” 

Shirley heard the bathroom door swing open and looked up to see little Jimmy staring at her. 

“Mommies are you hurt?” the small boy asked. 

Shirley stretched out her arms and her son rushed into her embrace. Holding the child against her she whispered into his soft hair, “No baby, mommies just sad.” 

***  

Shirley had caught the Super Chief out of the Santa Fe terminal in Topeka heading for the great northwest and her Lee Roy. The early spring landscape zipped by the window as Shirley held her baby and watched the miles go by. Denver, Cheyenne, Salt Lake City and Boise were all left behind in the wake of the Silver, Gold and Red mighty diesel train. Shirley was quietly grateful for the speed of the trip as she could barely sleep with the anticipation of being back with her dear Lee again. 

As the Super Chief came to its slow screeching stop in Portland, Oregon Shirley looked out the window and could see the searching face of Lee Roy looking at the passenger car windows trying to catch a glimpse of her. She knocked on the window and waved, catching his attention. Lee’s face lit into a wide grin; waving back he rushed down the platform so that he could greet her and their son as they exited the train. 

The past three years had seemed like a dream, a wonderful, beautiful dream that had suddenly turned into a horrible nightmare. Though Lee Roy still had not divorced Wilma, he had left her. 

In the Spring and Summer months Shirley, Lee Roy and Jimmy called the small apartment where she had once lived, above the café where Shirley had been working when she and Lee met, home. Lee Roy topped trees in the cutting season and had found a job at a local sawmill to fill in slow work periods. It was at the sawmill that Lee Roy had first met Leroy Jones the coloured man that now lay dead and whose death had forever ruined the happiness that had been Shirley and Lee’s for such a short time 

 “Lee Roy meet Leroy,” Mr. Alexander said, with a chuckle, as he introduced the two men. 

“Pleasure “, Lee Roy said holding out his hand to the skinny and wiry Negro man. 

Leroy Jones eyed Lee Roy’s hand suspiciously, grinned a yellow toothed grin and made brief contact with Lee Roy's outstretched hand. “Betcha,” he said as he turned and walked away. 

“Don’t mind him,” Mr. Alexander said, “he’s just pissed off because he thinks you took his job.” 

Lee Roy gave Mr. Alexander a questioning look. 

“He wanted to work the big rip saw,” Mr. Alexander explained, “but he is just too small to handle the big logs and he knows it. We gave him a raise, but he thinks that we consider him a wimp and he has taken it as a fucking slap in the face.” 

Mr. Alexander placed a meaty hand on Lee Roy’s shoulder. 

“Just ignore his dumb coloured ass; the boy will get over it.” 

It would have been great for Lee Roy if, as Mr. Alexander had said, “…. the boy will get over it.” 

But Leroy Jones wasn’t getting over it and he made no secret about it. The first day on the job Lee Roy had tried to make peace by inviting Leroy to lunch. Leroy had looked at him and sneered. 

“Honky mutha fuger take’n muh name and muh job, fug you mutha fuger.” 

Lee Roy had decided that the best thing to do would be to just avoid the other Leroy but that wasn’t going to happen either. Not a day passed that Lee Roy wouldn’t return home with a story for Shirley about some remark Leroy had made about him or some sick practical joke that he had tried to pull on Lee Roy. 

 “Why don’t you just punch the little nigger out?” Shirley had asked. “Because,” Lee Roy had said with a sigh of resignation in his voice, “the little bastard isn’t worth my job.” 

Lee Roy brushed the saw dust off the sleeves of his blue flannel work shirt as he made his way to his locker. It was lunch time, it was Friday and it was payday. It was also about a week before they would be making their seasonal move back to Texas and Lee Roy and Shirley were going shopping for new clothes for Jimmy right after he got home from work. Yes, it was a beautiful day. Lee Roy opened his locker and removed his black lunch pail. Lee Roy thought it felt heavier than when he had placed it in his locker that morning. 

Holding the pail in one hand he undid the latch and as he did the contents came spilling out of the pail covering his pants and boots. 

Leroy had filled the lunch pail with red paint covering the contents with the thick pigment and ruining the lunch within. As Lee Roy stood looking down at the paint that was spreading on the floor and dripping from the pail, he could hear Leroy cackling behind him. 

 “Look at that stupid white boy,” he laughed, “he done spilled his lunch all over his self.” 

Lee Roy snapped, turning he hurled the ruined lunch pail at Leroy and charged in after it. Grabbing Leroy around the throat he slammed him into the wall. 

 “Listen to me nigger,” Lee Roy breathed through clenched teeth, “if your fucking coloured ass ever comes near me again I’ll fuck’n kill you. You hear me you sonuvabitch,” he screamed, “I’ll fuck’n kill you!” 

Lee Roy was nose to nose with Leroy whose eyes now bulged out of his head like two glossy ping pong balls. Lee Roy slowly became aware of the other people in the locker room who were all staring at the confrontation between the two men. 

Lee Roy shoved Leroy away from him and jamming a finger toward him said, “You’ve been warned mother fucker, stay away!” Leroy rubbed his neck as Lee Roy left the room. 

That night Lee Roy told Shirley what had happened. Mr. Alexander gave both men a warning emphasizing to Leroy Jones that any further incidents would mean his immediate termination. 

“I would like to terminate him!” Lee Roy had said to which he and Shirley had laughed. It was the last time; Shirley would recall later that she and Lee Roy had a good laugh together. 

Lee Roy grabbed the log tongs and opened them up. Log tongs are like a large pair of curved scissors. Opening them up the points of the tongs are rammed into the log. One set is used on either end of the log. Block and tackle hoists are attached to both sets of tongs and two men lift the log onto the conveyor to get it ready to be ripped. Lee Roy slammed his tongs into the bark of the large pine log anchoring the points in the soft bark. 

“Hey Lee!” 

The voice made him bristle and he felt his anger rising as he spun around. 

“I told you to stay the fuck away from me Leroy!” He yelled. 

“Easy man,” Leroy said, “I’s comes in peace.” 

Lee Roy eyed him suspiciously. 

“Here man I comes with a gift.” Leroy said as he reached for the pint bottle of whiskey in his back pocket. 

He held the bottle out to Lee Roy, “Here man youse goes ahead and takes it,” he said grinning his yellow toothed grin, “I jus’ wanna sez sorry fer fug’n wid ya.” 

Lee Roy continued to look at the bottle in Leroy’s outstretched hand. 

“C’mon man,” he said shaking the bottle, “I’s sorry man, les’ makes peace, OK?!” 

Lee Roy shook his head; “I don’t know….” he began. 

“Aw come on man, I’s sez I’s sorry.” 

Lee Roy reached out and took the bottle out of Leroy’s hand. 

“The bullshits over?” he asked. 

“Yeah man, da bullshits over.” Leroy assured him. 

Lee Roy held the bottle of amber liquid up examining its contents. Unscrewing the cap, he sniffed the opening and held up the bottle in a toast. 

To a fresh start.” Lee Roy said bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a long pull from it. 

“Amen, brother man, amen.” 

Leroy Jones said as he watched Lee Roy down the whiskey. Lee Roy offered the bottle to Leroy who declined it and produced one of his own from his other back pocket. 

Uncapping it he touched it to Lee Roy’s bottle and took a long pull from it. 

“You were a real shit,” Lee Roy said as he took another swig from his bottle. 

“Not as big a shit as you’n gonna be inna minute.” Leroy cackled. 

 “Whatta, you mean….” 

 Lee Roy’s question was cut short as the cramp hit his gut. The bottle dropped from his hand as he doubled over and hugged his stomach. “Whadja….” was all he could manage as another cramp hit him. 

 “Ho, Ho, Hee, Ha, Ha, Ha,” Leroy cackled. “I knows that youse a shit and I’s proves it Honky boy. Can youse sez med-a-kal lax-a-tive? Ha, Ha, Hee, Hee.” 

Lee Roy turned and ran doubled over for the restroom, but he never made it. With a loud “Braa-ack” sound his bowels let loose and wet, runny shit filled his pants. Leroy was now holding his gut as peals of laughter issued from him and tears filled his eyes. Almost hysterical in his glee he was pointing to Lee Roy drawing attention to his embarrassment for the gathering crowd of mill workers. 

 “Woo wee that white boy done shit his self. Ha, Ha, Ha, Hee, Hee! Jez’ look at…. “  

 Leroy’s taunting ended abruptly as his head went sailing across the mill yard. His lifeless decapitated body stood for just a moment creating a bright crimson fountain from the neck that just a moment before had held a laughing head.  

Lee Roy walked through the group of now shocked, sickened and screaming mill workers his gaze fixed on the head. The mouth still moved as if still wanting to taunt. Lee Roy dropped the log tongs down in front of the head and calmly asked, “Whose the shit now nigger?” 

 The eyes of Leroy Jones glazed over, his last practical joke played out.