Part 1 the good book
Norma knelt in a church praying the rosary like she did every Wednesday. The church was quiet on this Wednesday morning before mass began. This church and the rosary were refuges from the brutal reality of her work and the brutality of the world at large. “Hail Mary full of grace,” the prayer went on as the birds outside chirped. The clouds parted, and the women continued to pray. “The lord is with you. Blessed art thou and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary mother of God pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, amen…”
Norma prayed for herself and her family every morning that she wasn’t off cleaning crime scenes. The Rosary takes about twenty minutes to pray so Norma was baffled by how few Catholics prayed the Rosary. Wannabe gangsters wore the Rosary around their necks never knowing what they were really for. She walked out of the church with the Star-Spangled Banner in her eyes. Flag pole was in front of the police station. In some small way Norma felt she was cleaning up the streets of this city too. “One blood stain at a time, the crew at Norma’s cleaning service was doing the people of this city the greatest service of all. Norma drove away from the church in La Habra, California in her luxury car. Business was booming. Or should I say business is bombing. How would I know? Well I am Norma’s son and partner, Hector. I do the heavy lifting and the maintenance of the equipment. At first there were only five of us, Norma, my cousin Laura, and two of the maids from the hotel where my mom used to clean, May and Adriana. That was the crew of Norma’s cleaning service. After our first suicide call I had an idea…not only to clean up homes but also the neighborhood.” Hector continued to explain. My mom has a little American flag sticker on her car along with a sign for our cleaning service. All the girls have the same sign on their cars for advertising. I am a bit tech savvy, so I designed a website and got us on a directory for housekeepers. It’s the little things I do that make the biggest difference. And it was a little thing that seemed huge to my mom to get her to start her own cleaning service. A failed promotion was my mom’s inspiration for branching out on her own.
“I’m sorry Norma. We just don’t think you are cut out to be head of the housekeeping department.”
And that was it…that’s what they told my mom after twenty years of breaking her back cleaning everything from semen to bloodstains to the occasional shit stained wall from a couple who were on their first family vacation with a baby who had diarrhea. Couples often argued about who would change the baby at two in the morning and seldom times the argument would end in a dirty diaper sailing across the hotel room. After that she didn’t let it bother her much until one day she got the idea to clean homes in the more affluent parts of southern California.
My Dad, my Dad you ask? He walked out on my family when my youngest brother was two. Since then it was just me and my mom…I have other siblings and they contribute to the household it’s just when I turned eighteen I went to work in the hotel. Which hotel? Is it the Hilton? Or is it a Hyatt in Orange County…near the beach. Discretion prevents me from being any less vague. Perhaps discretion is the mother of creativity…but I don’t want to wander down a road with you on a journey that will only take us halfway. Leaving you at the side of that road in a ditch is where I want to go but again discretion prevents. And so Norma quit, she took some people with her to start her cleaning crew. Like I said I was recruited to do the heavy lifting.
“Hector… What are you doing?”
“Mom, I am writing.”
“I don’t even want to know anymore.” Norma Flores said as she lays down on the couch. As she said this she fell asleep.
And so now I must tell you a secret I can’t tell my mom. I’m the reason business is so good. Let me elaborate…
When my mom first started she got a call from her former boss. His brother had been troubled all his life; David was the name of the brother. One day while living with her former boss, John, came home to David’s brain splattered by a shotgun across the bathroom wall.
John couldn’t bring himself to clean David’s remains off the wall. The family was traumatized enough without John Junior having to clean Uncle Dave’s brains off the wall. So John called my mom, Norma Flores, the first Merry Murder Maid. Although she was happy to help her former boss she was anything but cheerful. Norma did such a great job that the family was never reminded of that terrible day. And so that’s how we started cleaning up…
Crime scenes in the homes of the rich and disturbed are dirty places filled with closets and in each closet is a proverbial skeleton. And you know what they say about that.
David’s suicide got my wheels spinning. Just to think that these people let us into their homes, we touch their stuff and they trust us. I heed my mom’s unspoken advice and go take a nap.
…Upon waking up from a dream of flying, I plant my feet on the ground and ready myself for tonight’s cleaning. As I’ve said before I am a bit tech savvy and well these people trust us even when they are out of town. But let me make this quick, I don’t take anything form the homes I hide things. Everyone’s closet is dirty, and I want to know how dirty and how I can clean it.
Listening devices to hear and a program that pirates their closed-circuit television, so I can watch and hear what is going on in the house, are what I am leaving behind. I have my suspicions about some of these people. So for the past year or so every time a vacation is scheduled I go to the electronic store to make my purchases.
But back to my dream of flying…of floating, it is like I am a balloon floating away from my small home on my small street in my small neighborhood of Whittier, California. And so waking from my dream I got up and assemble listening devices for our customers. To hear and see when Mr. Estrada bangs the babysitter. I’m also adept in finding hidden treasures like the condoms that he uses for that most nasty deed. I poke holes in them. How will he ever explain this to his lover and his wife? And so in the dim light of my desk lamp I create listening devices to plant in customer’s houses. I wonder if the babysitter’s father would kill Mr. Estrada, with a little coaxing of course. And this is how I keep some of our clients paying a little more and others feuding among each other. Maybe Mr. Estrada will think his wife found out and bam…the possibilities are endless. And so tonight the Estrada’s are on vacation and tomorrow when we go to clean I will go along to do some dirty work in the Estrada home. Murder-Suicide is so Romeo and Juliet.
So, I sow the seeds of my discontent throughout the greater Los Angeles area. The seeds begin to grow as I water my stashes…
What you should appreciate is that I am a maniac who knows too much about electronics. And so with my computer I tune into the various bugs I have set…to catch the people of Southern California at their best. My computer is a special sort that I built myself. The garage houses my soldering iron and other small parts I use for my listening devices. My adeptness for creating these things was learned at a technical institute. It was some extra credit work that has become the foundation of my livelihood. But alas if only I were to blackmail some of these people I would make more…but then we wouldn’t be in the housekeeping business.
I work to light a bug under the underlying hatred of neighborly love. We clean two Catholic parishes, so I plant bugs in the confessionals. People go there to be forgiven by God and now they have to deal with me exacerbating the sin by telling husbands anonymously that their wives have not been very faithful. And it isn’t always the wives that misplace their wedding rings…
On Sundays they take a sip of something some people would call poison, but we call the Blood of Christ. My mom comes here to confess her sins and I wait in the church and pray for my sins. I don’t confess because the priests would have my head if they knew what trouble I was mixing with my electronics degree.
Mr. Estrada’s cries of passion will be silenced by the father of his babysitter…Love is a word used to manipulate others. I used to stand for justice, real justice, the kind that changes the situation at the very core…but now I am on my knees praying that I don’t get caught doing justice’s dirty work. Deep in prayer and thought my mom sneaks up on me. “Move over, Hector, I want to pray the rosary.” She whispers in the Church across the street from the police station. We pray together in silence each with our own intentions. We quietly leave twenty minutes later.
We walked slowly to our car on this Saturday afternoon. My mom looked like she was worried. About what, I knew not. But I could find out by listening to the surveillance tapes of the Church…
And so it goes with people, we are all driven to the point of breaking.
“Come out, Estrada…” The father of the babysitter yelled at the red door in La Habra. “Come out here and face me like a man.”
Mr. Estrada went outside expecting a fistfight instead he was met with a Glock. The eloquence of his speech could not save him from the angry father clutching the letter I wrote explaining the torrid relationship between the babysitter and the older gentleman. Mr. Estrada ran back inside…
Shots rang out and blood and brains stained the walls, carpet and the children inside the Estrada home. The police show up moments too late.
The babysitter’s father, Mr. Jennings, will get off on temporary insanity…and my mother and the other ladies of the cleaning crew will remove the stains before the house is sold. The Estrada’s move out and seek comfort in each other all the while grieving the loss of a father and husband…however horrid his crimes knowing he did not deserve to die for giving in to his lustful desires. But what I think is that this is good for business.
The cleaning business is brutal. But justice is sweet.
The gardener and the Nazis don’t always get along. This is just true unless the gardener is an out of work Nazi…and so this is that story. Mathew loves Hitler. He sees his competition as wetbacks and slack jawed japs. Mathew prays to Hitler. I know this because my family of wetbacks cleans his home and takes care of his pets when he is out of town…or just out at his local KKK Rally. Really, I hate this man.
His father once told me that I just misunderstood his family, but I did not. A Nazi is a Nazi and Mathew corrected me to say that there was nothing “Neo” about his family’s love of the Reich. And so when we were hired to clean the house. I made sure Jenny the Jap would assuredly help me (Hector, your humble narrator) achieve my goal…to rid Marlinton Drive of the Nazis…
And my hatred grows because Mathew mows my lawn for trade to clean his house. And so I form my plan to gaslight Mathew. He was laid off from his railroad job shortly after his father died. Now like his father did in the seventies, he tends to the yards of his neighbors to make ends meet.
And so I am the clown of my neighborhood showing the neighbors my jovial nature but behind my door my hatred grows for Mathew.
I want to say so long to the racism and fascism in Whittier, California but that sort of thing is everywhere…Italians throw bananas at members of their government. Hatred is a fact of life. Maybe I can plant landmines in the lawn of one of Mathew’s customers…but the battle of hatred must be fought with love. Or perhaps I could just inform Mathew’s customers of his political and religious leanings…he worships Hitler as a god…
But I don’t think the conservatives would care, they have their own altars devoted to Hitler…And so I accuse myself of once being his friend, but I cannot condone hatred. Hatred is the seed that turns good men evil.
It’s a sin to live so well.
A war is never the answer, so I move along in this story and move back to my job with my mom. The vacuums need to be cleaned and tuned up, today. My mind drifts off to other worlds and if I told a doctor he would say I was delusional…schizophrenic if you will. The greats are my playmates in my little world while I tune up the vacuums. Van Gogh and Descartes keep me company while Einstein breathes down the back of my neck as I assemble the motor housing. You may not believe me but in my mind and maybe history will back me up but Einstein is an asshole. A controlling twat who won’t let things go and pass away because he has the answer…he doesn’t. And so I turn up the music and work on the motors and brushes of the vacuums. I do this every couple of months…
I told my doctor about Mathew and the other neo-Nazis in my neighborhood and he told me I was paranoid schizophrenic. But I guess the liberal media is lying about the Klan and other groups like it in the U.S…they don’t exist…there was no Timothy McVeigh…working with antigovernment/anti-equality groups in the States…the KKK doesn’t exist. Mathew doesn’t have a Nazi German flag above his son’s bed and a Mein Kampf above his television.
And so I digress from this bout of hatred…
And the landmine is in my mind.
And I explode on my girlfriend’s dress. Amorous desire leads me to places unknown. Why does she love me? Why would anyone want a man who cleans vacuum cleaners for a living?
Who is she and why am I (Hector) your humble narrator, so reluctant to tell you about my love? She is a high school girl… And I am a pervert. I am such a pervert that I am going to tell you about our love. But what I want to tell you about first is my love; Diana…She is as beautiful as the goddess she is named for. Her blonde hair shines in the sun as she walks to school with her friends. Her skin is clear for such a young girl. She is fourteen and as Elvis Presley may have said it is truly a magical age for her. And I, Hector, am in love with this girl. We, the employees of Norma’s cleaning service, clean the local high school at night and Diana’s parents’ house on Tuesday’s.
Admittedly, I have told you my glorious reader that I plant listening devices and cameras throughout the homes of our customers to my own benefit and amusement. Diana is just such a beautiful girl and I am so shy…
And so I am one of those guys who desire young ladies, a pedophile. Like Elvis Presley before me I think that the freshmen year of high school is a magical time for a girl. Diana is magical. Diana is electric. This is mostly just fantasy.
Her dark blonde hair glimmers in the sun as she approaches me. I am in the garage and she is walking up the driveway past my car. It’s a classic car and girls like it…1969 Chevy Camaro. I finish working on the vacuums and give Diana a ride. I drive her home. Nothing much happens, and I am okay with that it is just being near her that brings me an awkward joy.
I’m 28…I should know better but I can’t help myself. Diana is the closest thing I have had to a girlfriend. I give her rides home and I think a lot about her. Normal people would call me scum, but I love her and sometimes. She told me that I am handsome and not like the boys at her school. I’m still working on the Camaro and ‘The Police’ were on the radio. She got closer as Sting sang: “Don’t stand so close to me”.
She began to sing along…
“Young teacher, the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be
Inside her there’s longing
This girl’s an open page
Book marking, she’s so close now
This girl is half his age…”
“You have great taste in music, Hector.” She says as our hands touch to turn the stereo louder. If my mom knew what I think of Diana she would…
“Thank you, Diana…do you have this song on your iPod?” I ask as she syncs her iPod with my stereo.
“Can we just drive around for a little while, Hector?”
I oblige, and I drive her to a secluded spot of a nearby park and we just sit listening to the music. There is a long pause in the music and I want so desperately to lean into her and kiss her, but I do not…I start the car and drive her home.
“What happened back there, Hector?” I thought… Maybe something in her realizes that taking our relationship to the next level is inappropriate to say the least. She’s too young…for me.
But what kind of pedophile would I be if I didn’t love Diana in every way a girl can be loved. I hate myself for having these feelings and moreover not being man enough to communicate my feelings for fear of reprisal from her father…or my mother. But I am a grown man and I should know better. Love is sometimes about what is known but often love is of the unknown. I’m no John Wayne Gacy…I couldn’t think of hurting anyone.
Maybe I would be a better lover if I didn’t judge myself and I just loved the young lady…but that would probably lead to prison and my subsequent rape by other inmates that heard of my love for my underage Diana. So the next day I drive her home with a pit in my stomach.
“Hector…” She says as we sit there in the car for a moment. She has never rushed to get out of the car and this time isn’t the first time either. She lingers in the passenger seat like the words on her lips. “Hector, I know that I am a little young but…is there something going on between us?” she asks.
I have never known what to say to her since we met: the pit in my stomach grows. I’ll let her down easy.
“Yeah something is going on…we are friends and I give you rides home from school…” I don’t have the heart to tell her I love her. She gets out of my car and I speed away. I am being awkward…
I am sick. But did John Wayne Gacy believe he was sick when he buried those kids under his house? Does that make me any better in the eyes of my perceived accusers…But no one knows my love for her but Diana herself…and we have never broached that subject. I am no victim. She may not even care enough to raise her own accusations.
I get home to my bedroom.
She’s a teenager and I am going to be thirty soon. What kind of romance could I offer her? My love would be as twisted as my thoughts every time she is near.
And our affair goes on…
“Diana,” I begin to tell her as we drive away from the high school. “I don’t just clean homes…I spy on the people we clean for.”
“What?” She questions.
“In the Army I learned about building bugs and some of our work was espionage…”
“Oh wow, Hector, why are you telling me this?”
“Well, Diana, soon you will be old enough to drive and get another job but…” I begin to think about her short skirt and her thighs…but I digress. “I will ask my mom if you can work for us part time and off the books.”
“What does that have to do with spying on your customers?” She asked as I watched her reposition her legs…cross then uncross them again as she watched me watch her. I wanted to kiss her passionately.
“What else did you learn in the Army?”
We arrived at her house and she rushed out of the car for the first time…surprisingly she came back to the driver’s side window and we kissed.
“I want that job.” She said ambiguously as she fled inside the empty house. I drove home with thoughts of love lingering in my mind.
I turned on the computer to watch what my neighbors were up to. But I couldn’t get rid of them all, so I backed them up onto a portable hard drive and hid the hard drive.
My mom is at church praying the Rosary…what is her intention. I always wonder if my mom is happy with me. My living with her and working for her, this situation, troubles my mind. And what of Diana, what am I to do with my love? The love I cannot love because of laws and social constraints…my mind could rationalize the most ridiculous things. Eighteen is only a number and our ancestors married at much younger ages. I am doomed. With that in mind I decided to send her flowers. The king of Rock and Roll married a sixteen-year-old girl…but I am no Elvis Presley. I clean houses and blackmail people. But talking about blackmail, our German friend has stopped mowing lawns and gone back to work in railroad maintenance.
He fired my mom a couple of weeks ago because our service was too expensive, and his girlfriend could clean the house. Mathew’s bugs are still in place and now maybe I will hatch my plan. Or I could let all this hatred go and forget about this Hitler lover.
Maybe if I prayed the Rosary like my mom I would have some freedom from this hatred.
“Hector…” My mom says as she comes into my room. “I’m home honey. I stopped at McDonalds on the way from church. There is some food on the table.” I put on a shirt, wash my hands and sit at the table to eat a double quarter pounder. My mom eats a fish sandwich and drinks diet soda. I think about Diana and eat my hamburger with satisfaction.
Maybe meditation would help me forget all this hatred of Mathew…
I sit on the edge of my bed and contemplate the anti-Semites and their love of der Furher…I suck at meditation. I am supposed to clear my mind and focus on my breathing. In and out, in and out my breathing goes and all I can think about is either in and out of my penis into Diana or the in and out and in and out of a knife into Mathew’s chest. Stabbing and killing of my foe. My perceived foe…other than his beliefs he is an upstanding gentleman. Something about the mix of Old Glory and swastikas; something akin to swastikas and stripes; this makes me sick. My hatred is killing me.
The Multiverse is a complicated theory let alone place.
If this theory is correct then maybe this is the universe where the son of man is one with the Father…Jesus is the one true God. But Shiva is also the destroyer…what if, what we call gods are Multiversal travelers? If the Multiverse theory is true, then what I write is true in another universe and I am one with the father somewhere else.
And so I sit in my room with Diana watching the History Channel. For some reason no one sees me as a threat to Diana, her life and her virginity…Not that her sexual promiscuity matters in this universe to her. We kiss a bit as we are alone in my mom’s house. I get up suddenly and awkwardly and walk to the kitchen. Diana follows.
“What happened back there?” She asked taking the soda I offered her. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
“You pulled away. You pulled away because you judge yourself because I am young.”
“I was thirsty.” I deny. She corners me in the kitchen and we kiss again, and I cannot deny my growing love for this high school girl. Like some song from the eighties or a book by Nabokov, I judge myself and try to push her away, but she leads me back to the couch.
And so I did what I had thought I wanted to do for some time now. But before we could consummate, the television called us both by name.
“Hector, Diana…” I stopped just short of breaking the law. “Hector, I see I have your attention…This is no revenge for what you have done, Hector.” The woman’s voice from the television was now accompanied by a face. This is the hard thing to explain but it was Diana…an older version of my lover. “Ah, I see I have your attention, my two loves…myself and my only love.”
And so before we could put our clothes back on we were abducted by aliens. And so talking about the multiverse and travelers throughout said multiverse the voice was a harbinger of things to come.
Shocked and amazed Diana and I sealed the deal with Grey aliens watching in some interstellar peep show. And we kissed and did what we had wanted to do because it couldn’t get any worse than aliens and time travelers speaking through the television. I pushed her off just before I came. Have you ever heard a Grey clap…it is a frightening sound much akin to the slapping of skin during intercourse? And so seeing as things couldn’t get any worse for me I finished making love to Diana. And before we knew it we lay in bed in each other’s arms. The carnal deed was done to the encouragement of Grey aliens and Diana’s intramultiverse traveling alternate. We awoke to the compulsory feeling of missing time. We made love again in the privacy of my bedroom.
“Love does that happen a lot.”
“What?” Diana asked.
“The Grey aliens and the ‘you’ from the future, in the television, does that happen a lot?” I stammered as we kissed.
“Oh, that…She came to visit me when you and I first became friends. She encouraged me to seduce you. But I have fallen in love with you.”
It was surprising that anyone could fall in love with me for I always believed I was a hideous beast through and through. Making love to a fourteen-year-old girl proved it to me this day but considering we were just abducted by aliens the self-hatred can wait for another day.
“We have been asleep a little longer than I thought… “She said.
“Missing time. Sometimes when people are abducted by Greys they report that more time has gone by than they can account for.” I responded as I pulled her back into my bed. I thought about the theory of the Multiverse as Diana and I made love.
From what I could imagine is that anything you might imagine could be true in another universe…with that said this Mothership could be like the Love Boat in space with all the reports of sex and probes that abductees explain. Just think of it a Multiversal ship that main concern is reproduction and possibly love. And so I thought of this as I made love with Diana.
“But who in another universe or in our universe made the first multiversal ship?” She kissed me as I asked this question.
“You did…or at least you will in a couple of months.” She said as she kicked me out of bed. “My parents are due home anytime now.”
I left with great haste, but I did not leave anything behind save my heart. Except for my heart…It now belongs to a teenager, my heart that is. Diana has been given the thing most sacred to me. My neighborhood secret and love are entrusted to a fourteen-year-old girl.
In my bedroom at the foot of my bed is my television set…now that I have seen how multiversal Diana can watch and control our actions with the TV…in short, I am scared that Future Diana is watching me all the time. Does she talk to me in my sleep or watch me like a longing lover? Is she creepy like that? I’m scared what a young girl with a space ship and grey friends can and would do if I didn’t bend to her will…
What is the will of a teenager in love?
I awoke to a ticking on glass sound that was coming from the Television.
“Asshole,” a grey alien spoke through the aforementioned device… “In every universe there is one common truth; Diana falls in love with Hector. It sounds small and insignificant to you, but it is a truth throughout every universe. With slight variations like love like yours only happens in the movies, television, paintings or books in some universes…Do you get where I am going with this? We are Anthropologists…we came to study what was only art in many universes. Whatever happens is variation on the standard.” The TV flickered off. And I masturbated thinking of my love.
Maybe the theme of the story in this universe is that masturbating about high school girls can get you into odd situations. First you are pining after them and next you are in bed with them and grey aliens are telling you this is all good what happens, happens and now I am fearful of the future and hesitant of making a multiversal space ship. Fuck who is going to clean up this mess. Surely my mom will want no part of any plan I have. I wiped myself on my sheets and got out of bed to take them to be washed still naked and aroused with thoughts Diana. I thought that I was alone in the house, but I was not. My anthropologist friends were hanging out on the couch. The thing about grey aliens is that when you catch them smoking cigarettes you are wholly unsurprised. You say to yourself: ‘of course, that’s their damage’. Like old men in a seedy pussycat theatre, the grey aliens began to clap, some with their smokes in their mouths and others with the cigarettes clutched awkwardly between their fingers. Naked and aroused I continue to the washing machine in the garage.
Let your love grow…
The one thing I know about love is that in order for it to grow you must water it. And so I called Diana. And when she didn’t answer, I text her and her response was quick. Strangely my mom wasn’t home, so we made love again while aliens watched to my chagrin. Then we talked about the strangeness of it all and my idea for a multiversal ship…but many of my ideas were utter shit.
But then like a shower the idea washed over me…and I asked the grey aliens for help. I got out of bed still slightly aroused from Diana’s sensuality to put my clothes on and ask the grey for help making the ship. They walked with me out to the garage…five dirty grey aliens accompanied me to the garage.
“Baby, if the stooges…” Diana referring to the greys said… “Are to help you with a multiversal ship I am going home. Anyway your mom is due home soon and you are banging a high school girl.” She said flirtatiously handing a pack of cigarettes to Shemp. I felt in some way sick to my stomach and full of love at the same time.
My Camaro was in the garage already. My mom was due home so leaving some schematics the stooges and Diana made themselves scarce but not before Curly gave me a Jesus Christ statuette for my dashboard.
“Jesus on the dashboard…” He sung hauntingly.
I put Jesus on the dashboard and as I prepped myself for hard work, the magic happened.
“Fear not Hector… “Jesus said from his perch. “Most of the work, I will do since you know nothing of Spiritual Mechanical Physics. But what you need to do is get your tools and follow my instructions…” Jesus continued into the night with his patient orders and my mind became more and more disjointed as the sun came up. “Now Hector…you shall be feared for you have created The Cosmic Camaro.” Jesus made the key turn and the engine purred and hummed like never before and my car floated an eighth on a centimeter off the ground…I could fit a playing card underneath each wheel but no more than one. Jesus baited me to take the car for a spin. And because I could pick up Diana and take her to school I obliged the savior’s request.
During the night the mist fell from the sky, what those in California might call rain. The streets were slick, but the tires would not touch them. I pulled out of the garage…
“I assure you, Hector, this car drives like other cars until you engage multiverse drive.” Jesus reassured me. “It only floats like that in park otherwise it hugs the ground.”
“And how do I do that?” I asked.
“I am your onboard computer with voice interface. If you want to go to space, we will discuss it…” Jesus spoke as I drove down the lane towards Diana’s house. Her parents would be gone and so I could pick her up and take her to school. And it thought that a trip to the moon would be preferable to school. And so it was preferable to school to take my teenage lover, my Lolita if you will, to the moon. Her eyes sparked blue in the light of the Earth.
When I was a child thinking of what kind of car I would like I thought of a Classic 1969 Chevrolet Camaro and that’s just what was on the surface of the moon. What else can I say? I love this girl and I now have a multiversal Camaro…with Jesus on the dashboard I can go anywhere. But all I can think is that this girl is going to be trouble…with the grey aliens, her future self and the other nonsense we have been engaging in…
And so like any other man with a Cosmic Camaro and a fourteen-year-old girlfriend would do…we made love on the surface of the moon. I could stop thinking what great trouble I would get into... Diana being way too young crossed my mind more that her alternate self and grey Aliens.
“We could run to another galaxy and live there…” I said as we cuddled in the back seat.
“I want to make love again and then we need to go home, Hector. We have to return to our normal lives at least for some time…our travels would be just a getaway…a short escape.” We made love…I made love to my little princess. It seems I was getting away with something the law said I shouldn’t. But in a Multiverse where I made a Cosmic Camaro I guessed that anything was possible with Jesus on the dashboard.
We went home to earth that is…
After I dropped Diana off at home I sat in my car in the garage and prayed. I prayed to the Jesus on the dashboard. For the only time in my life, Jesus answered my prayers.
“The question you should be asking, Hector,” remarked Jesus on the dashboard, “is this situation out of you control. And as the computer designed by the Greys I would say yes so just enjoy the ride…”
“God…how vague!” I screamed.
“To be more concise that is all I will say.” Jesus on the dashboard said as he switched in engine off.
Shemp, the Grey Alien, walked into the garage and opened the door of the Cosmic Camaro. My Camaro was blue, but Jesus and the Aliens preferred gunmetal gray with a blue candy coating. It looked awesome but who could see it when I took it out on an interstellar spin.
Shemp and I went to my room. I would say my mom, Norma, was oblivious as usual but this was not normal…
“Your mom had a heart attack when we walked in to you house.” Shemp said as Moe gave the kiss of life to her and laid her on the couch. “She’s in shock…she most likely will think this is a nightmare.”
Shemp continued as I sat on my bed cradling my head in my hands. “That girl loves you and her counterpart from another universe is playing multiversal match maker. Frankly we grey just like to watch and take notes as to how we can please our mates at home.”
“I feel like scum though…”
“Well, you should the laws and mores of your society dictate that you, my friend, are a pedophile.” If Shemp is trying to console me he is doing it all wrong.
“Thanks.” I say sarcastically.
“What I am saying is that in another part of the Multiverse your love is celebrated…just because you love, Diana and have a Cosmic Camaro. Neither I nor any of my cohorts would take credit for giving you the means to create your multiversal transport.”
And so Shemp left me to my own devices…
And so I slept and the TV at the foot of my bed turned on and began to talk to me and give me instructions, a sort of hypnotic suggestion. And who would be doing this to Hector Flores? This remains a mystery even to the Author…
And so I sit at a desk telling you about Hector Flores who may be real in another universe having this illicit affair with Diana and going into space that these feelings and characters are real to us; you and I, the reader and the author sharing these feelings I am trying to convey in this book. And what of Hector…Where has he gone, my dear Hector?
“Hector.” A sweet voice spokes from the doorway. It was my love, Diana. Her green eyes shone in the light coming from my bedroom window. Her hair rustled like wheat in the wind from the open window and the ceiling fan. She was more than just a beautiful fantasy come true…She is my love and that is the truth.
“Your mom let me into the house.” She said as she approached me to wrestle me out of bed. “Your mom made us dinner.” She says as she pulls at my leg trying to drag me out of bed. I love her, so I get out of bed to have what I believe is going to be an awkward dinner with my high school girlfriend and my mom.
I wasn’t what I thought at all.
“Norma, could you pass me a tortilla…” Diana asks with a smirk on her face. My beautiful blonde girlfriend turns to me and says; “we made these tortillas while you were napping Hector.”
“Yes, Mijo…while you were napping the ladies were making dinner for you.” We finished and so my mom and Diana got up and cleaned the table. The dinner went well even though Diana and I were playing footsie and starring at each other. She is just so beautiful. I found that this dinner was better than any trip in my Cosmic Camaro.
And was this some foreshadowing of things to come…how would my mom clean up the mess I am creating across several Universes? But before that I need to travel to another universe. But before that I needed to consult Jesus…on the dashboard. And I sat in my garage…
“You need to pray the rosary, Hector. It helps when one travels to another universe.” Jesus told me. “But first you need to learn how to pray the rosary and thus…”
“Wait…” I interrupted. “What does the rosary have to do with going to another universe?” Jesus let me continue.
“Prayer and meditation clear the mind and open you up for the kind of places we will go to.” Jesus reiterated. “The Multiverse is a strange place and you need to be grounded…your mind needs to be focused.”
But before I could go I had to check on my White Power neighbor…
And there he was riding a Harley Davidson wearing a jacket with White Power patches such as the Gestapo “SS” lightning bolts…
And there I was in my Cosmic Camaro wanting so bad to run over this Nazi in my neighborhood. Jesus consoled me in my time of trouble.
“He will get his for those who live by the sword die by the sword…” Jesus spoke as I passed Mathew and lifted off for only him to see. And what would he say? Who would he tell that a Camaro flew?
Who would I tell that a White Supremacist biker dropped his bike when I took off in my Camaro? I would tell my love. Diana did not come on this adventure. And so this is a mess that my mom doesn’t need to clean up.
And what does this author say about Hector and throwing revs as he passed Saturn…what can I say it was cool…
And at home my mother, Norma Flores, was washing my bedsheets, the same bedsheets where Diana and I made love. She knows this, and she knows that some people would think that Diana is too young for a Galactic Gallivant like me. But today she would clean Mathew’s home. The home he shares with his girlfriend, son and his aging mother.
Mathew is a Hebrew name, but he would contest because he hates the Hebrew people, the Jews…those evil and wicked people. Unbeknownst to Mathew is that the Zionist movement was not a movement by people of Hebrew decent to take over Europe and America but a movement of the ‘people of God’ to govern the Holy Land. Mathew would never see Israel as anything holy. But today this day Margret, Mathew’s mother, has called up a lesser woman to help clean the home where these Nazi’s live. ‘Peggy’ may not even view Norma as a human being maybe she is an animal…something akin to a monkey that pushes a vacuum and a mop.
And so my mom dusts, vacuums, cleans the kitchen and the bathroom with a smile on her lips because Norma can read the books these people read, and she knows what Mein Kampf is about…hatred of innocent people. But this is Whittier California and White Power rules the streets. Love and equality have no place here. So Norma just cleans the house regardless of her growing disdain for this family.
This book is a testament to the author’s helplessness…he was branded Schizophrenic for saying White Power is ruining his community.
I am waiting for a man to pour my coffee in a universe very similar to my own. Strangely, Tom’s Diner is playing on the radio. This universe is a reflection of my mind. And so I wait for Mathew to show up with his son and wife…this is the White Power family that plagues my neighborhood, but you should see that what makes life great is freedom of beliefs. But Mathew is dangerous. He is White Trash at least second generation from what Hector could discern.
There was a lonely man outside selling white and red carnations when Mathew and his family entered the café. I pulled out my gun and killed Mathew’s son while yelling something that is nonsense in the universe native to me…
“Late term abortion of a possible terrorist…”
There was blood and brain tissue all over the wife of the White Supremacist and Mathew’s own face. And in this universe that was the only justification I needed to walk back to my Camaro unimpeded. In most universes, Mathew is a lifelong member of the NRA with shady views on the government and his place in society. The FBI in most universes kept track of him because of his yearly outings to Ayranfest…it’s like Renaissance Faire but only for the White Power community.
In the author’s community many of his childhood friends became White Supremacists upon reaching adulthood…but as stated earlier the author is schizophrenic for believing that Nazi’s want to kill him or that Nazi’s live in his neighborhood…but in the small corner of Whittier, La Mirada and La Habra where many of these ‘people’ still live these Nazi’s were good people and I was the terrorist…
And so here I change the voice and tone of the story…
I am no longer Hector…Hector is Hector and I?
Who am I other than the narrator, the author, the God of the story?
So Hector was more and more confidant that he could kill that man.
But what Hector failed to do was to speak to his mother, to speak to her about the past two weeks when she had been cleaning Mathew’s house. Hector was often accused of being a failure by his own mind and his own voice, but Norma would never accuse a returning veteran of being a failure because he left an American with a different political view alone.
So in short, Norma and the cleaning crew torched the home she was supposed to clean and planted an American Flag on a pole outside. When investigating the ruins, the fire investigator found neatly untouched in nice little bundles Neo-Nazi propaganda, the Mein Kampf, racist literature and Mathew’s racist music…this author fails to mention the guns…many unregistered and stolen to be used when Mathew was called upon by other people who believe much the same as Mathew does.
The investigation shifted, and the FBI was called into conclude that arson was not the cause and Mathew’s forge for his jewelry hobby was the cause of the fire. Norma felt she had done her duty for the United States of America and her family.
But this is fiction and I was so proud of my mom that I and my high school girlfriend had sex on another American Flag…looking into the beauty of her eyes I felt that his mother cleaned up a mess that I, myself, would have only exacerbated the situation.
“Hector, did you remember the jimmy?”
“Shit!” but it was not too late he had just begun and well they both had no diseases, so the only problem was ejaculation…and so I was worried about nothing like most men when their girls are late having their periods.
And now, this was his problem; hiding the fact that he was in love with a high school girl from her father. In what universe do you think that this will end well?
The touch of a grey Alien is like nothing you expect. Hector thought as he and Diana lay side by side on the Stooges ship. She was positioned as if she was being examined by an obstetrician, but it was only Curly, one of the Stooges…
Later Hector would learn he was going to be a father.
Many men in the same situation as he was in choose abortion or running away from their love…or hiding the body in the crawl space.
All of that was out of the question since grey aliens put the baby into my love’s womb and her future self was spearheading the whole project. But what could Hector do?
“You’re pregnant!” Hector said with an air of excitement and slight contempt…
“Yes…” said Diana as they kissed. “My parents don’t know, and it was the stooges who help us into this situation.” She had also begun calling the greys ‘stooges’.
“We could go live in another universe” Hector tried to console her. Hector felt like such a coward…it was the only way even if the stooges and future Diana followed us they would incur the wrath of her parents.
And then it dawned on me…There must be a planet of Diana’s out there in the multiverse. Hector could replace one Diana for the other…He thought about a planet full of Diana’s and became sexually aroused at the thought of ploughing them all…so he planned to run away with Diana for a time until she could give birth. First, he would have to find a double that was interested in coming to the Earth in our universe. And so he went to talk to Jesus on the dashboard. Actually Diana and Hector sought the help of the greys in their plan…but was it their plan all along?
Jesus would help; Jesus would always help those in need.
“Oh my Jesus, forgive us our sins and save us from the fires of hell…” the prayer went as the Cosmic Camaro blinked into another universe. “Lead all souls to Heaven especially those in most need of thy mercy.” Hector sat in the driver’s seat praying the Fatima Prayer with Diana…The blinking into another universe left a pit in his stomach.
It seems queer for a pedophile and his pregnant girlfriend to be praying the rosary and even more strange that they would try to escape to another universe to hide her pregnancy. This is often the part where Hector, the molester, saw no other way out and kills his victim…But Diana is no victim she is his true love and he wanted to protect her and the baby. If their love were not true he would just chop her up and bury her body in the desert…A horrid chill went up his spine. The thought of hurting her hurt him.
And so there we were on the planet of Diana’s…The only thing about this planet is that it was ruled by Chubby Buddy, one of the author’s closest friends, in another universe. Chubby Buddy ruled with an iron hard cock. The Diana’s were his slaves although he did not admire their beauty; he kept them for himself nonetheless. And so there they were, and they decided to make love in the Cosmic Camaro once again before going to speak with Chubby Buddy about a queer arrangement.
In my universe they sing about semen covered mountains.
Chubby Buddy’s castle is on one of these mountains. Semen stains the mountain tops… That’s what Chubby Buddy says but it is just snow.
Diana and Hector sit naked on the beach below the mountain of the ruler of this universe. Frankly, his planet is one of two with sentient beings on it in the whole universe. The Multiverse is a crazy place. I will not tell you about the other planet only that it is a lonely one.
And so one the beach we sat waiting for Chubby Buddy as is his custom.
“Buddy, how can I help you?” They are acquainted, and this is his custom as well.
“My lord Chubby Buddy may a borrow one your Diana’s in exchange for my true love Diana?” As they had already discussed this, this was all just a formality.
Chubby Buddy nodded and said, “she will have the best health care on the planet.” All the Diana’s were well taken care of…their health was something Chubby Buddy prided himself with.
Chubby Buddy’s ancestors had been cloning Diana for ages and this is how he has a planet of beautiful ladies. This being the multiverse just about anything you could imagine could happen. Hector left his love with Chubby Buddy and took the clone back to the Earth.
It’s Friday morning and Norma is praying to God more importantly she is praying the rosary. Hector prayed because of my experiences in the multiverse. The crucifixion didn’t make Jesus of Nazareth special, anyone can die on a cross, but what made his special was the Resurrection. Jesus on the dashboard assured Hector of this fact before he suggested Hector go pray with my mother before work that day.
What was there left to see in this world that was greater than what the Cosmic Camaro could show him…he asked himself as he prayed. Hector began a plan to take down all the surveillance cameras and stop blackmailing my neighbors…since Norma had dealt with the white power element in the neighborhood, Hector felt he could move on to other more important matters.
Chubby Buddy had pointed out that the man on the loneliest planet was himself a rejected clone who had found a way to cheat Death but not Cupid. Plainly said he may be able to clone himself or to live forever but creating a companion was out of his hands…and thus fucking clones was just fucking himself. Talking to the clones was just as useless as fucking himself.
I feel like I’ve been here before.
“Hector?” My mom asked, “Are you okay?” she continued. “I’ve never seen you come to Mass in the morning.”
Everything was alright with the world. The next couple of months were mundane…
Diana clone was with her new parents and Hector figured it was best to break up with the clone until my true love came home. Hector tripped the light fantastic when he married Diana in the Cosmic Camaro. His mom came along once he told her about the deception and his pregnant love in another universe.
And so at that point Norma and Hector sat praying in the church.
Father Francis, who also tripped the light fantastic with us, gave the final blessing and everyone walked out. My mom, Father Francis and I stood out front the church chatting and decided we would go to breakfast in my Camaro.