BUBBLES AND BLUE MOLD

Daniel Brodsky and Colin Cunningham in Centigrade, © Turn Up the Heat Productions, 2007

Met a kid today. Hanging outside of an ‘old school’ convenient mart and chompin’ a fist wad of Hubba Bubba, he asked me the time.

“4 o’clock.”

He looked over his left shoulder.

“Hmmm. Doesn’t feel like 4 o’clock.”

Little squid couldn’t have been more than 9 or 10.

“Ya? What’s 4 o’clock feel like?”

“Not this.” He said.

His hands were filthy. Kid filthy. Something had melted on them earlier in the day before being wiped over some grass. After that, maybe a dog. A hole. Then he replaced an axle from a 52’ Buick.

“You waitin’ on someone?”

“What?”

“Someone coming to get you?”

I’ve never seen so much gum in one head.

“You an actor?”

“Ya.”

“Ya. I’ve seen you. Stargate right?”

“Ya.”

“I like that show.”

“Thanks man.”

I went into the store, grabbed a diet Redbull and a packet of Dentyne. There were some apples near the cash register and I thought perhaps I could take a little better care of myself.

Collecting my keys, I made my way back outside.

“It’s not real though,” he said.

Straight as an arrow. Mouth still.

Not real? He’s obviously never been to the SGC when it’s at defcon 4.

“As real as you want it to be brother,” I replied. As real as you want it to be.

I think he liked that.