Water From a Goddamn Holy Man

by Adam

Mercury Rising #2, November 1991

The signs were good. The signs were every where and as Jason weaved his bike up California Street on that warm, electric blue evening, they told him that he was about to experience yet another PERFECT MOMENT. He was entering the Buddhahood once more.

A half hour earlier, California was a three-ring circus. Large motor vehicles squeezing him off the road generally made him feel good. But now it was barren and lonely, like a surreal landscape of the city of the dead.

He steered north onto Sansome. His data banks were overflowing. Big answers to big questions could be found on an evening such as this. In alleyways or in courtyards that couldn't be seen from the street but that he'd been riding long enough to see anyway.

"Damn, I hate this job, he thought. The worst part is locking your bike sixty times no. Signing into buildings...flat tires...my company.

A familiar pain shot through Jason’s knees.

What if the pain isn't really coming from my knees? What if it comes from having to deal with everyone down here in Zombieland? How could anyone relate to such people? I especially hate those sorry secretaries who never smile and daffy doormen who smile too much.

He flew down Sansome and pondered his most recent record setting mood-swing. Could it have been brought on by an acute kharmic reaction to a heinous deed inflicted upon his fellow man? His radio, which had been barking out commands non-stop was playing dead and for the twenty eighth time that day, he made an old lady jump.

Hey Jay.

Jason turned and caught sight of his soul brother of the streets, Matt. Jason was happy to see him; they had lots in common.

What you been up to, Jay?

Oh, the same old thing. Playing on this dude’s record. Starring in some movie. Heading for Europe. Learning to hang glide. How about you?

"Much of the same, ‘cept I'm also trying to make time to get drunk every day.

Cool," said Jason. So anything of value happen to you today?

"Not really. Well, sort of I almost had to punch out this bum.

"Hey, can I ask you a personal question?

"Shoot.

"Well, Jason began, There are these two well dressed plastic-coloured yuppie babes standing off the corner waiting for the light to turn and I'm on a course to run right up behind 'em.

"Uh huh.

But as I get close I see that there’s this big puddle in my way and unless I veer off course dramatically, somebody’s gonna get all wet and probably ruin their stockings or whatever.

A puddle?

"Hell, I don't know what it was doing there.

"A puddle. A devilish smile passed over Matt’s kisser. "I'd fuckin’ splash ‘em to Kingdom Come. What'd you do?

"I splashed 'em and now I'm not exactly sure how I feel about it."

Matt was livid. WHAT?

Jason shrunk back. It's just that, I'm really a decent sort...sort of.

"Decency has nothing to do with it! Matt shouted. "If you splashed ‘em, they really must have deserved it; being little yupsters and all."

"I try not to hurt anybody, Jason offered meekly. "Not on purpose, anyway.

"You didn't hurt ‘em, you got 'em wet big difference. How about all those days we gotta ride out in the pouring rain and they're scurrying around like rats under designer umbrellas?"

"Yeah, I know.

‘That's right, Jay, don't worry about it. I mean, if anything, it's like you did those chicks a favor."

You think?

Believe me. They gotta walk around in those nylons all day going from meetings to lunches to elevator flirtations to home to TV to boring sex: The dumbest lives imaginable.

I guess.

It's like me and you, Jay, we're above all that. We don't live by their laws. As a matter of fact, we break many laws, everyday. The cops know they can't control us you know why? 'Cause we're above the cops!"

You got that much right, my brother.

Basically, Matt rolled on, "we are kings out here. This is our turf and if they don't like it they can take a flying fuck out of our way."

So somebody got wet. Matt was smiling now. Those broads should be thankful that you cared enough to do it. No? Yes!!! It's the best thing that could have happened to 'em.

They were both laughing now.

WAKE THE FUCK UP, MOTHER FUCKERS! Think of that water as a gift from you to those sillier, less fortunate souls.

"Like a Baptism.

Right. Like water from a Goddamn holy man!

"Perhaps, Jason began, with a slow and glazed stare, perhaps they will gain some enlightenment from the experience. I doubt it, but you never know."

A crackling noise emanated from Matt's radio.

Go to 655 Montgomery, Round Table Pizza, and pick up a 345 Spear. Oh, and be sure you sign in and use the freight elevator this time, huh knucklehead?"

"Ten-four, came the requisite response.

Within seconds Matt was obediently peeling away. Think about all I have said, young Jason. The future of the world depends on you.

For Jason, however, there was no longer a need to think 'cause the signs were good. The signs were everywhere. He was in the midst of another PERFECT MOMENT. He had entered the Buddhahood once more.

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