DISCOVERED IN THE PAPERS OF MY FATHER AFTER HIS DEATH:
Rujji, padgie, wijji, fojdi! BURN THIS without reading it — if you wish who I truly was to remain a secret forever. I pray you WHOEVER IS READING THIS (and obviously he knew the only one reading this would be me) LET MY SECRET DIE WITH ME! Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, PO-LEEZ!, I have been a good man and everybody knows me to have been such, I have followed through on my promises, and foreswore earthly happiness — SO FAR AS ANYBODY KNOWS — as long as no one will read this paper — MY POSTHUMOUS REPUTATION IS IN YOUR HANDS. DO NOT READ WHAT IS WRITTEN ON THIS PAPER. AND IF YOU DO READ IT, DO NOT TELL A SOUL!
Yeah, right, you old attention-seeking old whore man.
I READ IT! I PUT IT ON THE INTERNET!
My brother Tyrone whom we call T-BONE calls me up on the TELEPHONE to complain about the internet post about the R-P-W-F. “Eric, I read your post. I did not agree with it. You made a series of mistakes. If you had made just one of those mistakes it would have been a mistake. But you made several mistakes. So it was several mistakes.”
-what were the mistakes?
“Okay.” he consulted his notes. “First those were our fathers secret papers and you shared them with other people and you should not have.”
“Second it is not very clear about what Rudgie Podgie Widgie Fodgie MEANS. So you have to ask yourself — do you want to tell people what Dad was up to or don’t you? Because if you DO want to tell people what was his secret shame you have to actually explain it. You understand?”
“You have to say is Rudgie his secret underage lover, is Podgie the political party he belonged to which said that Albanians should all be slaves –”
-Dad would never say Albanians should be slaved. He loved Albania.
“You are missing the point. I’m asking you did you ask yourself what you wanted to do before you posted that?”
“You didn’t, did you. You see that’s always been your problem and that is why your writing doesn’t work. You need to ask yourself what you’re trying to do before you do it. That way you can know when you do it, if you did it. Because if you write something and you don’t know what you’re trying to do or if you want different things which are impossible to get all those things and then you write it and you get lost…”
“What was the other mistake? You said there were three mistakes.”
“Oh right.” Consults notes. “You spelled “Rozzy” wrong.”
the spirit medium’s eyes go up into her head, the coffee grounds poured out on the floor of the dusty apartment in Hollywood, blinds are drawn, the mind-baffling odor of the San Pedro Cactus penetrating my walnut-sized brain, the chanting of the two immense sweaty eunuchs, the squealing of the cat “SPIRIT OF ERIC’S MOTHER! WE SUMMON YOU! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY?”
“What about me?” said my mommy’s ghost “When do you pay attention to me.”
“You have the floor” said Miss Bahara, the spirit medium “Speak. Speak. What do you have to say.”
the quiver of our soul’s of the supernal presence, the being from beyond. She speaks…