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Michael Steinberg

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Excerpt from Romantic, Connecticut

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The River

So I ended up in Romanic, Connecticut. Couldn't tell ya just how or why. An even if I could, ya wouldn't never understan. There's just too much explainin ta do, more'n I can even rattle my brains back tagether ta tell. All I know is I ain't alone here that away in Romanic.

Ya might say I'm down by tha River just now not far upstream from tha Bridge, where ya can see all the way to tha Mountain when evrythin's dead froze over, cause I got inta tha Bizness helpin Big Guy keep Boss Lady satisfied after they told me I wasn't worth a ferkin fink at Romanic Refuse, an all that being long, s'long after tha Factry went way south an just kept agoin.

But that don't really appeal ta ya, do it? So's all I can really say is they call me Scamp. Just here in Romanic. An nobody's ever splained that yet neither. Who cares anyway' Name seem's ta fit, an that's all that matters. Cause all my life it seems like I been scamperin from one place ta another, but I never fit nowhere, so's I'd be flittin away, as often as not cause someone's layin fer me, but here now I got a good reason ta sit by tha River an scout round fer what makes life right an real.

Like how I'm just now on this big slab a flat gray rock with tha water rushin by, lookin at these couple a lil fish in a side pool where they can't be swept away in tha current that's hellbent on goin its way an watch out. An I fix my eyes on tha two a em keepin out a tha way an goin bout their bizness just bout evry day. I see some ol leaf what's left from last season all raggedy an brown now tumblin along in tha white water just tryin ta keep from bein shredded, an it might drift inta tha pool and sorta flip around gaspin fer relief a bit but then it'll float back inta that bad current an get ripped along who knows where with no tellin how or why it'll all end an sure ain't nobody nor nothin comin ta its aid an somehow it hits me that's ol Scamp's life's goin along hellbent too an ain't nothin ta do but enjoy tha tumble or go down tryin.

Someone's up on tha Bridge now, pretendin tha last thing she sees is me down here sprawled out on this gray slab with evry care in tha world whirlin round in my head. That's how it always starts, an that's why I arrived down at tha River ta begin with. It's how tha Bizness operates. Tha Protocol, Big Guy calls it.

There's people all over Romanic says tha Bizness is tha Devil's work, but since tha Factry closed, before I was even born, Big Guy says it's been tha only employer in Romanic ya could count on ta keep ya on steady in good times an bad, with them mostly just getting worse. Say what ya will, it's keepin me stable an gettin my skills sharper than any cool cat's whisker.

She's startin in ta whistlin now. Won't be long fore she'll be tootin our tune an I go inta action. Big Guy's got it all figured out fer me, an all I gotta do is take tha right steps ta tha proper spot in due time an then get down ta tha Bizness. But it ain't that easy, even though she's a long timer an tha Product can't be beat. That's why we gotta play out tha Protocol.

Cause in tha Trades now, ya can never be sure when there'll be a turn, when what ya was sure was real will get twisted round an fore ya even get a chance ta be suspicious yewl be sliced thinner than a maciated membrane all stretched ta breakin on some piss rich kid's petri dish up at tha university, where Big Guy says all this Bizness started ta begin with when tha boys let their hair down long an lank an tha girls banned their bras an evrybody liberated all that wasn't nailed down, which was most evrything, an that's why tha security field is tha fastest growin opportunity-wise thing happenin, cept tha Bizness a course.

That's how Big Guy tells it anyway, specially when Boss Lady's leanin on his shoulder, givin off them looks that harpoon my heart an sear my soul.

Oh yeah, I'm ramblin. Ramblin's what I do best. Just like this River. An I don't really care bout anythin else but sittin here on tha gray slab tryin ta figure it out. Cause I'm sure ta certain that once I do, evrythin else'll just glide along ta perfection, like Mama used ta say. Evry day I feel myself gettin closer, an at tha end there'll be Mama waitin on me. Ya can keep all those angels an such. Fer me it's all tha River an its coursin.

People from these parts swear none a us'd be here but fer tha River. Didn't it power tha Factry that made life magic in tha ol days a Romanic, they squawks. Didn't tha town grow up off tha River banks an then out from tha Factry gates up an down tha Main Line an sprawlin up inta tha Hill, they're crowin. Oh they'll just go on an on like a flock a geese strung out over a sky ya can't recognize on a journey that just goes in smaller an smaller circles.

Course tha old ones that ain't alchies are heavy in tha Trades an their grownup kids got no memry a what tha Factry ever did, an their kids are like that one up there on tha Bridge now, whistlin in tha wind fer a taste a that ol power an magic an endin up with tha Product. An all of us starin down at tha River tryin ta find a rainbow in tha light that plays off it diffrent evry second, tryin ta decipher tha sound a it rushin with its mean mighty roar or whisperin all its secrets so quiet an low that ya'd swear it was all standin still an so's all tha time this world's ever had or will desire.

But she's whistlin above it all now, an I've gotta heave myself up an away from tha power an magic a these wicked waters, or fore ya know it Big Guy'll be givin me tha Bizness, an that's tha Livin End, Daddio, like he says with that smile an then he pulls his black beatnik beret down over his eyes an flashes that red-tipped stiletto ta show he means Bizness an ya'd best too.

So I'm amblin now over ta tha broken up blacktop, passin tha monitorin wells they're supposed ta but don't use ta test tha River water, wonderin again if that's where all tha power an magic went ta, or turned inta. A ways on there's a pile a splintered-all-ta-hell ol railroad ties they threw over here a century or so ago from tha tracks what runs between here an tha Main Line. Now I'll be waitin a bad while fore she makes her appearance, just like she spun her wheels up on tha Bridge fore I made mine on that gray slab where I make my daily sacrifices ta tha gods a de-lay an de-light in tha shadows.

Cause it's all one big waitin game, ain't it?

Purchase a copy of Romantic, CT to read the rest.

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