Mabel and the Highway That Never Ends

Montgomery Zephyr was in a funk. He was on the wrong side of fifty and as he sat on a stool in Jerry's Place in the small town of St. George, South Carolina he wondered if his depression was of the more permanent sort.

"What'll you have, honey?"

Montgomery, whose elbows were on the counter and whose head was buried in his hands, slowly looked up. What he saw surprised him.

"Call me Monty."

"Call me Mabel. Now what you'll have?"

"A turkey club and decaf."

Mabel poured Monty a cup of coffee. "What brings you to our little oasis?"

"I'm a writer in search of a plot."

"A bad case of writer's block? Well, honey, I sure don't know what you hope to find in St. George. We have trouble keeping the drain lines free and clear."

"Not that kind of a plot. I'm looking for a piece of ground where I can lay my weary bones once this earthly existence has concluded its human sojourn."

"But why of all places St. George?"

"It's close enough to the ocean that in a few thousand years or so, the ground where I'll be interred will merge with the more primal aspects of reality. I'll be one again with the cosmos."

Mabel looked skeptical but didn't say anything. Monty's order was ready and as she went to pick up the turkey club she tried to think of something that might cheer Monty up.

She placed the plate on the counter. "Have you heard of God in the Bubble?"

"Who hasn't?" Monty took a bite of the sandwich and washed it down with some coffee. "But what's that got to do with anything?"

"He's just down the street."

Monty's turkey club fell out of his hands and fell with a undignified plop to the plate below. 

"What's he doing here in St. George?"

"He's here for a chess tournament. You can find him at 1997 Kramer Avenue. Turn right when you go out the front door."

For the first time in years, Monty felt like life was worth living again. He gobbled down what remained of the turkey sandwich, finished off a second cup of coffee, left Mabel a big tip, then went running out the door. Mabel shouted after him. "And never forget Monty. You're traveling the highway that never ends!"

THE END

The UR Blues

Used to be my message was unique

I could count on regular donations every week

But now the whole world is getting the news

And now I got the Universal Reconciliation Blues

Yea, the worldwide media is making sure the word is spread

God’s going to save everyone, even the evil, nasty dead

Oh yea, the whole world is getting the news

And now I got the Universal Reconciliation Blues

Looks like I’ll need a new vocation

Maybe a sex therapist or night club singer

I love the ladies and I've got a good voice

I’m always ready to zap you with a good zinger

Used to be people would pay to hear me talk

Now it seems they prefer I go for a long, long walk

Oh yea, the whole world is getting the news

And now I got the Universal Reconciliation Blues

You’d think I’d be happy that everyone will be saved

But you must realize it cuts into my income streams

Cause people lose their sense of urgency and fears

When they have no nightmares only sweet dreams

Used to be I had quite a following of fans

They would listen even when they didn’t understand

But now the whole world is getting the news

And now I got the Universal Reconciliation Blues

An Insider's Look at the Big Three's Working Relationship

Excerpt from Nick Neercassel: The Novel

If you’re standing on a clear night in the Mojave Desert and you’re about a mile from any road or highway and you look up into the sky in the direction of the North Star, and if you imagine you could actually see another 3 million light years or so beyond the North Star, you might see another star; a large yellow one burning brightly. And you might see in the halo of that star the outlines of two figures that appear to be having a casual conversation:

“No luck, eh, in the XM11115987 Galaxy?”

“Nothing. Just like in the 17,234 galaxies I’ve searched previously.”

“Same here. You know I miss the old fellow. He was never actually there with us because he was everywhere but he was the kind of fellow that was always there when you needed him even when he wasn’t. If you know what I mean.”

“He could be funny when he wanted to be. I especially liked the times when he called himself THE ODD GOD OUT. He’d asked, 'Why am I always mentioned last? Why is it always the Boss, BJ, and The Ghost? Why couldn’t it sometimes be The Boss, The Ghost, and BJ or better yet The Ghost, the Boss and BJ?'”

“And then he’d sometimes complain that you got to sit at my right hand while he, always having to be everywhere, never had the chance to be just somewhere. But you know, he never let his gripes interfere with or negatively affect the quality of his work.”

“How true.”

“But let’s be serious for a moment. Our decision making process is in shambles. Contrary to some thinking we did not plan out everything billions of years ago; too much trouble and besides there’s no fun in that. Much more fun to make decisions on an as needed basis and for that we had devised (after billions of years of trying) a pretty darn good system. On any issue I would let you two vote first. If you two agreed we’d go ahead with that plan. If you two disagreed, I would cast the deciding vote. Simple? Yes, but highly effective. Now that we’re down to two, the decision making process is much tougher. I don’t like pulling rank but there may be times I’ll have to and it’ll be a miracle if our relationship isn’t strained in the process.”

“We need him back in the triangle to make this thing work like it should.”

“That means we keep looking.”

“Let’s meet again after diligently scouring at least 20,000 galaxies each. We need to pick up the pace. No more star gazing.”

THE END