by Arnold Snyder
That’s when Lulu walked in. She came directly to my table and sat down in the seat that had just been vacated by Flash. She didn’t look like a bag lady anymore. She’d dyed her hair pitch black and had purple eye shadow on. Tight black sweater. Tight black miniskirt. Fitted black leather boots that went halfway up her calves. Black stockings. Gorgeous legs. Her sweater was lowcut to display her cleavage. I don’t know what kind of wonders a pushup bra can do, but her breasts were large and full and inviting. She looked like a cheap whore.
“I knew I’d find you here,” she said.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”
She looked crestfallen. “Are you angry with me?”
“No … I’m sorry for the attitude … But can you answer a question for me? Are you a real person?”
“Why are you mad at me? What did I do? I spent the whole night thinking about you, how you healed my burned hand. You took me to that beautiful beach. I was so excited to find you again.”
I turned to see my jogger girl was exiting the coffee shop. Just as well. As soon as she hit the sidewalk, she started running. She was gone.
I turned back to Lulu. “Have you come down from the acid yet?” I said.
“I’m not seeing patterns anymore. I’m not seeing trails. But I still feel so high, so different, like people are precious and fragile and everything’s sacred and connected.”
I knew that would happen. She came down but I didn’t. I was still seeing patterns.
“Do you remember that cop who disappeared last night?” I said. “The one who pulled me over?”
“Sure I do.”
“Did you get a look at his face?”
“No. I was terrified. I was trying to not be noticed.”
I was staring at her cleavage and she knew I was staring at it because she kept moving, adjusting her position in ways to press her tits closer together.
“But that whole scene was just my hallucination, wasn’t it?” she said.
“That cop I thought I saw pulling you over.”
“I don’t know. What if I told you it may have been a real cop, and I purposely made him disappear when I said ‘gone’?”
“I’d say that’s crazy. Seriously crazy. Like are you all right?”
“Here’s my problem,” I said, noticing, but pretending not to notice, how weirded out she was. “I’ve been having these crazy flashbacks from an acid trip I took fifty years ago. And the flashbacks are so realistic I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. I’m worried that you might be one of my hallucinations. Can you see the headline on the Oakland Tribune on that rack by the counter?”
“I’m not one of your hallucinations,” she said. “It offends me that you would say that to me. I spent two hours this morning making myself pretty for you.” She stood up straight and tall and slowly turned so that I could see her from all angles. Great legs. Superior. And her ass looked so good. Could she do that with a girdle? She’s in way better shape than I am.
After completing a full turn, she sat back down and crossed her legs, showing me a flash of her bright red panties.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just being honest here. Can you read me the headline on the Tribune?”
She looked over in the direction of the service counter. “It says Two Oakland Police Officers Vanish,” she said.
“That cop from last night?” I said. “He was one of them. The other one I made disappear earlier.”
“No way. You’re living in fantasyland.”
“That’s what my brain’s telling me too. But still, I seem to have this crazy power to perform miracles. And yesterday, I got rid of two cops who I believed were hallucinations until I saw the news this morning.”
“You’re tripping, Don … Or else you’re trying to scare me … Are you trying to scare me?”
“Lulu, I’m trying to figure out what’s happening in my life. I’m asking you to help me figure this out. And I’m hoping you’re not just another hallucination because I need help. Maybe this coffee shop isn’t even real. Maybe I’m still home sitting in my bathtub.”
“I think you might be schizophrenic.” Now her voice had become cold, distant.
“I want you to help me do a test,” I said. “I’ll do a miracle, nothing major, and you have to tell me if it really happens or if I just think it happens. Tell me a miracle to perform.”
“Look, they have drugs to control schizophrenia now. You don’t have to live with it.”
“Tell me a miracle.”
She looked exasperated with me. “I can’t believe I got all dressed up to see you. I did my hair and my nails and shaved my armpits and my pussy and everything else of interest, and you have no interest. You’re playing head games with your own head.”
I leaned closer to her across the small table. “You shaved your pussy?” I said in a low voice.
She crossed her arms and sat back, not looking in my direction.
“Look, Lu,” I said. “I really like you. You’re so totally my type. But right now, I’m trying to figure out if I’m God or if I’m crazy. So, if you tell me a miracle to perform and I can’t do it, then that’s good, because I’ll know I’m not God. I can assume I’m crazy and go on with my life. So, tell me a miracle.”
“What kind of miracle?” she said.
“Anything. Make something up. Something impossible but not too freaky. Nothing that will scare people.”
“Don, it’s not going to happen. No one can do miracles. We were tripping last night so it was all crazy. That’s all.”
“What about when I healed your burnt hand?”
“I thought about it later. All I touched was the handle. Maybe the acid made it feel hotter than it was and my skin just got red and the redness went down pretty quickly. I didn’t really get burned.”
“Lulu, the flesh on your fingers was totally cooked. I saw it and so did you.”
She just looked at me, annoyed.
“How about when we were at the beach?” I said.
“We were on acid. Everybody has visions on acid.”
“So, tell me a miracle and see if I can do it, because I’m under the impression I can do anything. Anything. It has to be something impossible, but not dangerous to anyone.”
She sighed an exaggerated sigh and pursed her lips to let me know she thought this was not only useless, but foolish. “Okay,” she said. “You see that headline on the paper in the rack? Change it from ‘Two Oakland Police Officers Vanish’ to something different … without getting out of your seat.”
Sincerely hoping that I no longer had miraculous powers, I winced as I changed the headline to read, “The Messiah Has Arrived.”
I didn’t have to ask Lulu if she could see the change, as she gasped audibly before saying, barely above a whisper, “Holy shit.”
“Maybe we’re both still tripping,” I said.
Then the woman who was next in line to be served standing beside the newspaper rack picked the paper out of the rack and exclaimed very loudly, “Oh my God! It’s the end times! The rapture! The rapture!” She dropped the paper like it was poison and went running out of Dave’s and into the street.
There was a squeal of tires on cement and a braking car slammed into her, throwing her back onto the curb in front of Dave’s as the car skidded to a stop.
We watched it happen from the coffee shop window. Lulu placed her hand over her mouth in horror. People in the coffee shop ran out to see what had happened and a small crowd quickly gathered around the very still body on the sidewalk.
“That’s the problem with miracles,” I said. “Sometimes there are unwanted repercussions.”
Lulu’s face was ashen as she turned to look at me. “Is she dead?” she said.
“On the verge,” I said. “But I can heal her.”
There was a grumbling in the crowd outside as the woman’s voice could be heard saying, “Get back! Let me up, damn it! Get away from me!” People in the crowd were being pushed. Some were raising their voices telling her to be still and wait for the ambulance and we already called 9-1-1.
“She’s okay now,” I said to Lulu, as calmly as I could. “Just freaked out.”
Lulu stared at me, looking for something to say, finding nothing but, “Not as freaked out as I am.” She stood up from her seat and retrieved the newspaper the woman had dropped on the floor. She brought it back to the table and sat down, crossing her legs once more in a way that gave me a glimpse of her fire-engine red panties. She was wearing thigh-high stockings. The white expanse of thigh showing above her black stockings, leading to her satiny red crotch looked soft and creamy. It all disappeared when she crossed her legs, but still, I struck me for the first time how close I was to a shaved pussy, a pussy that had been shaven specifically for me. I felt a definite surge of blood into my dick.
“It’s not about a messiah,” Lulu said, still reading the paper. “It’s about the two cops who disappeared.”
“I only changed the headline,” I said. “I didn’t change the text.”
“It says here that both cops were married. Their wives are begging for whoever kidnapped them to please return them. There’s a picture of Sergeant Corcoran’s wife and little girl. She’s six and so cute. She’s adorable. She’s in tears. Jesus Christ, Don, you have to get these cops back. What did you do with them?”
“I accidentally uncreated them.”
“God has accidents?”
“Can you bring them back? These families are suffering.”
“Where should I bring them back to? You want them here at Dave’s? Home in bed? Sitting on a beach in Kauai in their squad cars?”
She thought about this for a few moments, then smiled and said, “I like the beach in Kauai idea.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Think about it,” she said. “They disappear from Oakland. No explanation. And the next day they’re both on a beach in Kauai—with their patrol cars. And neither of them have any idea of what happened.”
“Lulu, I thought we were going through this cop-saving routine because of their suffering children … Why would you want these confused guys to suddenly wake up halfway around the world?”
“In their squad cars,” she said. “That’s important. Think of how nuts the media will go trying to explain this thing. It would add to the mystery, yet it would still get them back to their families … you know, eventually. Would they remember anything about how it happened?”
“I can’t believe this. You want to use miracles to pull pranks on people? That’s just wrong, Lu. It’s wrong. I object on moral grounds.”
“But if you did it, would they remember anything about how it happened?”
“Only if I wanted them to. Or I could provide them with a memory of how it happened. But why would we want to do this? Just for our amusement?”
Lulu smiled a devilish smile and leaned forward like we were in a conspiratorial huddle. I was staring at her cleavage again. She squeezed her tits together for me. “It’s for everyone’s amusement,” she said. “And I’ll bet Jesus did stuff like this all the time.” She held up her index finger. “How about they remember that they were driving their squad cars and the street turned into a winding tunnel that seemed to go right through the center of the earth and their brakes failed and they couldn’t cut the ignition and after hours on autopilot they came out of the tunnel onto this beautiful beach.”
“Lu, you’re not being a good influence on me. This is how I got into trouble before. I started doing miracles for my own amusement. The way to handle miracle power is to never perform a miracle. Every one leads to trouble. I’m speaking from experience.”
“But you could solve the world hunger problem.”
“Yes, I could. And as a favor to you, I will. Do you want me to do that now?”
“You’ve got to bring those cops back first. Do you like my old whore look? I put this outfit on for you.”
“Lulu, I think you’re as crazy as I am.”
“Just this one miracle?” she said. “Please?”
“Done. They’re on the same beach in Kauai where I took you last night.”
“That was Kauai?”
“Yes, and it’s now where both cops are sitting in their squad cars, confused but comfortable.”
“I promise. And how did you know I was attracted to old whores?”
“You just look like a man who needs a slut in his life.”
“I’m attracted to sluts, but unfortunately, I’m useless in that department myself. But I’m going to ask you a favor. You don’t have to say yes.”
“I’ll do anything for you. My whole life was worthless before I met you.”
I glanced down at her legs briefly, Jesus, what legs, then said, “I want you to be my sidekick. That means you’ll help me figure shit out. You realize, of course, we could both be crazy and we’re the only ones who see the miracles?”
I was scanning her face, trying to figure out if she was taking this conversation seriously.
“But we just saw a woman who clearly saw your newspaper headline,” she said. “So we’re not the only ones. And she was a complete stranger.”
“But what if we both hallucinated her and we were the only ones who saw that whole scene?”
“The French have a term for it,” she said. “Folie á deux.”
“We could get in a lot of trouble,” I said. “We could get locked up, even killed if something really backfires.”
“But, Don, I believe in you. You’re a good person. You’re the kind of God the world deserves. I’d be honored to be your sidekick.”
“You realize I’m not just trying to have sex with you.”
“You’re reading my mind now! I was just thinking what if this is just his line. Is this how you pick up girls? Hello, I’m God.”
“Lulu, you have a warped mind.”
“I’ll bet I like sex more than any of your other girlfriends.”
“I don’t have any girlfriends. And sidekick does not mean girlfriend.”
“I’m getting some incredible ideas of stuff we could do,” she said.
Once more, I felt a stirring in my dick. Interest. Genuine interest. Interest based on something primitive and animal. Jesus Christ, what am I getting myself into? “I need some fresh air,” I said. “Let’s take a walk outside and figure out how we might go about saving the planet.”
Go to Chapter Eight