NYACK AND JAMES JOYCE
Lost in Joyce. Oh boy. Got all
these things put together and
so much the ways I want to
say them. See you here then,
Or maybe 'Hear you; see.'
Then I guess I'd know the
living difference. Maybe.
-
Lost my brakes once on this
scatter-brained hill. I wonder
if he knew how to handle that,
or would if it happened now, to
him. I forget fully. I think it was
brakes - or that other time too.
-
Flat tire, leaving Nyack, right
at the side of the road on the big
Hudson hill leaving town. Had
my Jaguar then. Damn thing,
rolled right off the jack, into the
hill. My own fault, not chocking
the wheels. I guess Park didn't
work enough to stop it. I don't
remember. River no help.
-
But, up pop two drunks in an
ancient Chevrolet, coming up
from the pit, where there was
a harborman's tavern. They had
a idea to help, but scared the
crap out of us - me and my
girlfriend. After midnight,
may pitch black - course I
got worried (to Hell with that
jack). I just figured they'd
man-handle her , or get much
drunk-too-happy, and then
overpower me and all else
breaks loose. I'm done, two
drunk bastard country boys.
-
But, no, it never happened.
They got my car back up
with some crap from their
trunk, and another jack too.
We changed the tire, made
some idle hillside talk - oh
and them boys is funny when
drunk. We worked it out and
said out good-byes, and got
out of there with no harm.
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