Mr Giggles

Mr Giggles tells a Tale

MR GIGGLES (EXTENDED VERSION PART TWO)

A TALE

'Billy, be a good neighbor and go look through the keyhole for me.' I said.

And darn my eye patch with a needle an thread, that's exactly what the kid gone went and did! He was a good boy and no mistake. Almost restored my faith in humanity, was what it did. Almost.

'What do you see Billy?'

He peered long and hard. 'I don't see a thing,' was what he said.

'Shoot an I could've told you that son,' I admonished and ruffled the tyke's hair. Yessir Billy was a good boy. Could've done with a few like him when I was growin up, in old Missoura! Hell now, why'd I go an do a thing like that ... think on the old days I mean. Weren't nothing but pain and misery back then.

'What do we do now?' That boy was keen as mustard.

'Well now Billy boy, I reckon we reconnoitre some more. If'n ya can't see through the keyhole, we should try the winders.'

But that weren't any more successful than before.

'This is stupid,' Billy told me an near done earned hisself a slap, before I remembered he was a good boy ... not like them boys back home. Tommy Deekins an his brother Abe, an Curly Johnson an Mike Rawlings an the rest, that used to beat up on me something fierce. No Sir, Billy was a stand up fella. Not the type ta drag a ten year old inta the woods an force him ta put everyone's pee pees in their mouth one after another. Well hell, I wouldn'ta minded that if only they'd let me play ball and join in the games an lay off and stop calling me faggot!

Faggot! I ask ya ...well, took long years of remembering and talking it over with the docs, but finally I got it through my head, weren't me that was no faggot. Was all em other boys. An ya wonder, I don't like boys as a rule, but Billy, he's different an no mistake. Things could've been mighty different if he was my friend all them years back.

'Hey! I said this is stupid.'

'I knows that. I knows it an I heard ya young Billy, but this here is for your own good. We gotta make sure them neighbor folk ain't home before we pays our visit.'

Billy knew that alright. Weren't as if he were stupid, just impatient. Now me, I ain't one for rushin things. 18 years at the Asylum done taught me the virtue of patience. Course that weren't all in one stretch.Let's see, it was 6 years that first time in an institution and then I was legal age an out in the world an learned me a trade.

Was on the road many a long year until ... well let's just say my demons got the better of me an it was best I go back for a long rest.

Course, at the time it weren't zactly voluntary, but I came to see that it was for the best.

Now ol Billy boy ,he's still a minor and was inside just the one year, but like my ol Grandma used to say, ain't no such thing as a coincidence. It was like that ol devil fate was bringin Billy to me, to remind me o who I was and who I would be again.

'He's almost home.'

Sure enough it was about that time. I knew that the missus would be gittin ready to stand by that door with an evening libation for the mister. In he'd come, jacket folded over his arm, unlit pipe stuck firmly between that square jaw and hat on head. She'd relieve him of the jacket, stow the hat away and he'd be stashing that ol leather bag to one side under the hallway table, just as she handed him his ... well darn if I don't know what it'll be. Sometimes a whiskey, sometimes a cocktail, was my information!

Time to move on in. Looks like none o them neighbors are home either side an its dark out.

'Time for a spot of home invasion young Billy,' I says, giggling.