Addendum: Me and Little Brown

This isn’t an addendum. Or maybe it is. 

I just love the word. Addendum. Even if this is more of a, ‘this is what happened later’ and was always going to be here. Addendum. Sounds like giant brass bells ringing in a new universe. 

Ding Ding. 

Giant brass bells that go Ding Ding. 

Say aloud right now. .    . “””Ding Ding””” 

Thanks,

I’m singing 

. Ding Ding . 

The meaning should be changed. I love the word and hate the meaning. Fuck it. Addendum now means ,,, ‘the ringing in of a new universe’ and something ‘super sweet super cool’ 

Here’s the addendum . . . 

I arrived into Sticky City as the final touches were being put on its rebirth. The towers that were disintegrating when I left had been replaced by like-for-like BUT BIGGER spires that tore through all comprehension out into the exosphere. 

Everything seemed just like it always was. 

Sticky City. I’d missed you. 

And now I had someone waiting for me. Little Brown Girl was in our new home. Decorated to her taste and spirit. Which I was more than fine with. As I walked down Bill Takeshita Boulevard I felt a long peace was coming in. 

No longer in need of casual murder and complex murder and all kinds of murder, and the rest of it. Just peace. With my Little Brown Girl. 

I had my Little Brown Girl!! 

The apartment was a little dump. The kind of place I love. I got to choose the place and Brown got to decorate it. So it looked nice, but it was still a dump. In a dump cheap building in a dangerous and dirty part of town. 

Gotta keep things interesting. That’s what I said to Little Brown, “gotta keep things interesting!!” !! 

Even if I wanted a break from the madness. And a long one. I still wanted it around me. Somewhere near. Out the window and beyond the door. 

I wanted quiet. We both did. Faux-ancient coffeeshops we visited on chilly Thursday afternoons and Italian holes on wet Monday mornings. What a life that would be. What a life it turned out to be. 

We slept on the same clean mattress on the floor. By the window. The fridge was never empty, stocked with the absolute necessities – tomato sauce, Burky beans, white bread, water, coke and coffee, milk and slabs of premium fake chicken. 

The lights were a dim yellow and the wallpaper pinks and greens with white paint sprayed and rolled in certain spots, I don’t know why. But it worked. 

One night Little Brown asked. .  . …   . 

“Are we married now?” 

She was being serious. 

It took a long moment before anything arrived in my head. There was no thought. I was just staring at her, into those eyes, the eyes that gave me back meaning. 

“I guess so.” 

“I guess so? You guess so?” she said, with a flash of hot anger. 

“Yes. We’re married. We’re more married than anyone has ever been married.” 

I slammed my fists on the table. 

And showed my teeth. 

Felt like it. It felt more like that now, marriage, real marriage, after everything. She was no longer some little weird kid with some magic vacuum, or my adopted robot friend. 

How?

. 

I was holding a knife and fork. I don’t remember what I was eating, probably that fake chicken with ketchup and bread. 

It’s really sad what ended up happening. Isn’t it. You won’t believe me anyway. What ever truth is here. And yeah maybe there are some lies, 

some fiction. 

You wouldn’t believe me anyway. 

This book was part of the deal. 

A deal I only accepted because I knew I’d get out. I will get out. No matter how impossible you think it is. I don’t care. 

I am going to do it. 

I’m not even here. I’m here. 

I wanted to write this book. For me. 

It’s not for you. It’s for me. 

I turned my head and looked out the window. The lights of all the people were blinking red and white, blue and green. Could I do forever like this. Forever. Me. Forever. Her. 

At the table. In the bed. In the bath. Umbrellas and boots and long night walks. Each worth a book. A black and white silent film. It was raining. 

I closed my eyes and pictured it. 

The picture burnt and objects of pain entered. I saw a drill and skull bits flying. Spinning planets of blood. Oh no. 

I had a thought. 

‘There will always be something wrong with me.’

I laughed at it. 

‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’ 

I was happy.