Tease Mawray - Three Kings

Death of a friend, fall leaves, finding the right deal

You must have gotten the message, or you wouldn’t be here. It’s me, “number two”. It seems “number three”, Smelly Eddie died last week; I just found out myself. Rumors have it, he died of some sort of sweet grape and fish fart poisoning. It seems every orifice of his naked body was stuffed with something; hell, bet you can’t guess where they found the gold coins and the roasted pine nuts?

Best I can tell, he ingested something lethal while visiting a traveling circus, a gypsy road show of sorts, while looking for love. I was told the affair was on a back road (you know Eddie, he always just followed the signs), an inconspicuous dirt road he took while traveling to visit us.

I am told his body was found naked, partially buried under a pile of beautiful fall maple tree leaves; you know, reds, yellows, greens, browns; you know Eddie, he always liked the fall, a magical time of year for him, what a goofball.

The police seem to think he was caught up in some sort of ritual, some sort of bizarre “dance of the fall leaves giggle, giggle, slap, slap, yea mista” ritual. You know me, never wanting to pry, no big deal to me, but I thought you should know; just in case you were waiting for him to pull up in the driveway. Hell, I didn’t even know he was coming.

Anyway, going to his funeral for both of us, it will be short, as his wishes were to be shot into space with only enough fuel for a one-way trip; so if he woke, he couldn’t pull the big red lever accidentally and return to earth. Just so you know, long ago, I promised him, “there would be no “big red lever””, and in fact, after receiving his decomposed carcass, I would be using a pretty green and yellow enameled thirty gallon pitted black olive barrel, and a very large rubber band type apparatus, similar to a child’s sling shot to launch him. He laughed and called me a “kidder”.

Between you and I, I could hardly afford the sewn together used rubber semi-truck inner-tubes I was fortunate to find at a local junk yard; but even then, I didn’t elaborate for fear I would sadden him. As you may remember, he was the sensitive one between the three of us. Just thought you should know.

On a lighter note, I’ll be taking a sabbatical of sorts after the launch, assuming everything goes great. If not, I’ll just finish the fifth of Johnny Walker Red, and stew in my memories of our dear friend and how we fondly called him number three. If the apparatus fails, not to worry, I’ll clean up the mess; you can’t believe the sale on plastic trash bags I found at ‘Mr. Market” last Thursday.

In case you’re wondering, and everything goes well, I’ll be heading to Sally Bella Island off the coast of Bimini Newfoundland, a rare and remote island off the southern tip of Italy. The Italians call it “Yeafukeyounazi”. I didn't want to read too much into it, after all, I'm their guest in this enchanting part of the world. I’ll be gone for a few years, as I always wanted to learn native agate polishing and aboriginal bone drilling using primitive tools; the stones are prized here in Topeka, the bones are just for something to do between quick shots of “Bidgy-Bidgy”, an intoxicating exotic drink made from oyster milk. Watching them milk the oysters is a rare and sacred charm, little tiny fingers, it’s a kick. And besides, I need a break for a while, the grueling nuclear physics classes I’m taking here in Topeka have been wearing on me. I say, let them find someone else to blow things up; you know, I just hate being used. Ok, so have a great week, I’ll talk to you later, “number two”.