---

People like Leo always made me reevaluate my line of work. He was so genuinely thrilled by every nook and cranny of the ‘forgotten borough;’ Waxing on and on about the architecture of the Conference House where Lord Howe had met with Franklin to unsuccessfully negotiate a peace treaty.

I didn’t at all feel like herding him. Thornton’s shepherding analogies never sat well with me. But if not us, then who…the fundamentalists, the Chicoms, the Muslims? Jeffersonian transparency, actual education, reason, the enlightenment these appealed to few.

It was when I actually met one of those few, one of the good eggs, that I felt awkward in my own shoes. At times I would see myself as a stooped, homunculus like thing, stood at the center of my chest. I’d quickly snap out of this when I recalled the hospital.

Resources man. Resources were everything. You could have the best metaphysic, the best philosophy, and the best men and still without resources… Christ himself felt the need to multiply fishes. Unfortunately such magic was unavailable. Maybe that’s what he meant by you will do greater things than these. Doing more with less is definitely a hard magic. And hard magic is what PLATO was all about.

It’s funny that most folk don’t quite grasp how much of a Statist the Plato described by Aristotle was. The Republic, that thing led by ‘philosopher kings,’ was the very definition of oligarchy.

This hubris was what we practiced. The kings we served did not walk in the public square, they may well be philosophers, but they were covert statesmen. While awry in detail the various conspiracy theories of popular imagination weren’t without a kernel of truth.

This project was named after a white-paper written by a devout acolyte of Bernays, in the early 70’s. Thornton had an eye for acronyms. The paper’s title read – ‘Practical Liberty – An Alchemy Towards Order.’ It consisted of equal parts quasi-masonic bric-a-brac, pharmacology, dubious neuroscience, and new age-tinged anthropology.

Practical Liberty An Alchemy Towards Order – Plato. The wise should rule. The philosophy really did fit Plato’s ‘Republic.’ Though there was a technocratic twist. The wisdom must remain secret.

“Globalization has been thrust upon us. We are dealing with massive complexity. Management of resources and the populations that depend on it is a precarious business. Need I remind any of those present, of the Malthusian fears of the fifties and sixties? The public is largely unaware of the green revolution. The thing that fed continents. Those that do.. demonize it. The thing has many flaws. But without it what?

We are the shepherds. We guide them to water. Then they spit it up. How are we to make them drink? I think it most fortuitous that such a free-spirited culture has emerged in recent years. This neo-shamanism must be molded into a new faith. For it is not reason that guides the human animal, nor theology, no it is faith and instinct. The reason a mere afterthought. So my dearest brothers we must take up the staff.”

“O! Pizza! Excellent. I will tell them that I have had the genuine stuff. With the thin crust.”

My reverie was interrupted as we passed some place called ‘Napolis.’

We went inside, ordered our slices, and sat at some small tables enjoying the cheesy fare. The others were all talkative. Despite the cheery surroundings and delicious eats, I was decidedly blue. My self-critical funk ran deeper than I thought.

Then I remembered her…

Right after I finished college, then A school, I was sent to Bolivia for some arcane reason. Something that was officially about playing world police with some druglords but ended up being sabotage of…well I’m not sure what.

I really don’t care to remember the details. Save one, which I can’t forget anyway.

Dysentery is fairly common in many places of the world. We all know about it but few see it up close.

I was on patrol in some hilly shithole and almost killed the woman. She’d run into me from a back alley screaming in Spanish.

“That’s a great way to catch the wrong end of Gerber…” O’Shea muttered darkly.

She had said something about her girl…but it was too hurried, the accent too different from Mexican, I looked at my interpreter.

“O fucking hell,” he said. “We can’t help everyone. Why don’t they take care of their own? Why the fuck…”

“Huh?”

“Her kid is shitting itself to death, and the hospital won’t admit her.”

“Jesus.”

The woman was inconsolable.

“What does she want us to do about it?”

“She says that they’ll listen to us.” Eddy, the interpreter chuckled. “Basically she wants us to bully them into doing their job.”

“I’m game,” I said.

“Eh, look Baird…” O’Shea our commanding officer launched into that Celtic side-stepping that I’d hated so much in my father. “There’s probably a good reason for it, we don’t want to alienate the locals. I’m with you in spirit. But alienating the locals is bad ju-ju.”

I grinned my disdain. “Fuck it,” I said.

I turned to the woman. “Vamos!” She disappeared into one of the low roofed clay building to our right.

“I don’t think you understand me…I’m ordering you to keep to our primary objectives.”

I was twenty-two, I’d been sneaking little bumps of the cocaine that we’d confiscated…strong, wired, and programmed by billions of years of evolution to serve distressed females…there was no deterring me. Certainly not via O’Shea’s authority even if was backed by the United States Navy and the extra thirty pounds of muscle he had on me.

“Go suck McNamara’s flaccid cock, ya fuckin dickless, conformist…paddy prick,” I said wryly grinning.

I was surprised by his reaction. He returned my grin with one of his own, shaking his giant head. “Don’t do it, Baird.”

“You can fuckin’ court-martial me.”

The woman reappeared holding a young girl of four or five years old. The smell was horrible.

“You’re gonna regret it,” O’Shea said.

I ignored him. “Vamos!” I said pointing in the direction of the local hospital.

She led the way with just me and a reluctant Eddy in tow.

The girl died.

The doctor who spoke excellent English was actually a pretty decent guy. There was an issue of class here. Water was hard to come by in the village. This girl and her family were very low on the totem pole, the moneyed classes came first by necessity, hospitals need funding. There was also so much of it…it was an epidemic…all sorts of things…

There was really nothing he could do. He tried to rehydrate her. Normally hydration works, but this case was severe. Antibiotics were needed…But there weren’t enough antibiotics.

I still remember her two large dark, beautiful eyes, looking in sheer pleading fear and pain at us as she kept defecating and crying.

All this. Because of a lack of resources. Resources did exist. But intelligent management of those resources was sorely lacking. Everybody was too busy showing off the tidiness of their fucking lawns.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel any remorse at all about PLATO.

“This is great fucking pizza!”

---

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

3.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.5 – Pensive

3.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.6 – Feijoada

3.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.7 – ‘Good food and good work…’

---

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---

I was sated. I was oversated. So much so that I felt one with the deep brown leather of the recliner that I was occupying. We were two stuffed amorphous things merged as one. Like some sort of gluttonous first world yin-yang circle.

The rich tobacco was simultaneously soothing and oppressive. Slowly it brought me from the pits of ‘itis’ to that peculiar nicotine alertness. I suppose that was the point of an after dinner smoke. It was meant to keep the conversation going.

There was much to converse about. The low-lit backroom was full of expectation. Our host’s lilting Latin baritone painting wild scenes with surprising fluency. The halting, grammatically awkward, cadence of the past few hours had completely faded. As if the Professors brain had completed shifting gears into English.

“So, you see, it’s really an amazing thing. They’re all over the place. Mostly under the sea. Do you know how to dive?”

“Of course.”

“How well?”

“We aren’t Navy Seals but we’re certified.”

“Commercially?”

“We might be a grotesque tax funnel but we aren’t mercs.”

“Come again?”

“I’m joking, point is, yeah we’re prepared to dive, deep, long, and hard.”

“Giggity.” Sam enjoined.

“To what depth?”

“Beyond 130 feet.”

“Spectacular!”

We all waited to hear why this was spectacular.

Senhor Böhm pulled a fresh Davidoff from the humidor.

He had very languid, sort of fluid, movements. All the way up to that perfect snip just above the shoulder. The brisk cheery sound of a match, an arc, a draw, and an explosion of smoke all occurred with a hypnotic precision.

“Well, the thing is about a hundred miles off the coast of the Galapagos.”

“O?”

“Yes, the largest megalith known to man. And much besides…”

“Such as?”

Leo chuckled. “I do not like to ruin surprises.”

“We’re already plenty surprised.”

“Perhaps, but I can tell that you are skeptical about what lies in the Mato Grosso.”

“Professor, I could take you places that would make you doubt the very soil on which you stand. Lost archeological sites in thick forests aren’t beyond imagination. Even in the present day.”

Our host simply smiled in that friendly perpetually amused sort of way.

“The young always think they’ve seen it all.” He laughed.

“Young? I’ve been officially too creepy to go to a rock show for almost a year now.”

“Perhaps, but I am old enough to be your father and I must tell you that, you will enjoy life much more if you really let the mystery in.”

‘Old enough to be my father…’ I mused regarding the smooth clean-cut features, the lack of paunch, the bright smiling eyes that radiated so much energy I’d swear they were on the verge of exploding.

“Don’t look so surprised, you will be the same as I, if you learn to love good work, and good food.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Guess when I finished Uni?”

I thought for a bit.

“2004.”

Leo laughed in his quiet, gentlemanly way, for a long time.

“I am very flattered but…off by two decades I’m afraid.”

“Bullshit.”

“UC Berkley, 1984.”

“Super bullshit.”

At this, our host produced a passport from his blazer. He handed it to me.

‘Jesus. March 19th …1958…’ I thought to myself as I inspected the document. Looking for signs of forgery. He certainly had the demeanor of a practical joker.

Again, he was chuckling quietly to himself.

‘He’s three years older than my father.’ I felt my brow furrow as I looked from the date to the man.

“You’re sixty?”

“Yes! And as you can see my birthday was only a week ago! And what a wonderful present Senhor Hoyt has brought me!”

I was still skeptical. But maybe it was possible. He did have that sort of posh energy that I’d seen in athletic frat boys. ‘Good food and good work…’ Still though…

My reverie was broken by Sam’s excited soprano, “So when!?”

“I will leave for the Galapagos in two days. You boys will leave for Richmond in three. But ah! The future is dull and unreal…for now I have always meant to see Staten Island.”

---

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

3.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.5 – Pensive

3.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.6 – Feijoada

---

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---

My hell was abruptly ended by a loud, “Senhor!”

A tall, Latin-looking fellow, seeming to be somewhere in his mid-thirties was standing directly in front of me.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, you are Senhor Baird, am I correct?”

“Sure, but don’t tell the authorities.”

The stranger laughed heartily.

“Very good, Senhor Baird, very good. You still have your sense of humor…that is good. But you are seeming to be missing something.”

“Oh?”

“Si, that nasty drink, that will not fill you, you must eat!”

“I’ve never been known to pass up a meal. So are you…Proffesor…Böhm?”

 “Yes! But you can call me Leo”

My surprise passed when I recalled how many krauts had expatriated to Brazil. What I at first thought was Spanish inflection I now recognized as Portuguese. I guess Thornton had wanted to surprise me.

“Ok, Leo, is that short for Leonardo?”

“Leandro.” Here he threw up his hands in disarming ‘Comme ci, comme ça.’

“But that is no matter. Leo is fine. Where are your friends?”

“Two are sleeping, one is at the pool, and I haven’t seen the fifth in weeks.”

“Ah, you are talking about Senhor Hoyt?”

“Yea,” I said, my curiosity peaking.

“He is in Virginia, where I stopped before I come here.”

“Wirklich?”

“OH! Deutsch?”

“Ein bißchen.”

“Ah, ok I suppose you figured out my father’s family.”

“Not exactly an episode of Unsolved Mysteries, so, what the hell is going on with Graham?”

Leo sighed. “You Americans are all business.”

“Maybe Thornton…” I smirked.

“Your friend was with Senhor Thornton, in Richmond, I could not believe what he told me…”

“Was he alright?”

“Well, yes in terms of uh…he seemed strong…but well I have always been sort of superstitious and I don’t know…he was…”

“Freaky?”

Leo laughed. “Si. I would not have said it that way but I guess so.”

So it seemed that Graham was still under whatever the hell spell he’d fallen into all those weeks ago.

“So what did he tell you that was so unbelievable?” I inquired regaining the pace of the conversation.

“Hmm…” the professor looked around.

“Hush hush?”

“Oh no no, nothing like that, nobody would know what to do with the information except us.”

“Us?”

“Si, but that…all of it…is sooo much information…and…you must eat! Look at you…like a skeleton. Crazy eyes too, hungry…”

“As I said, I’ve never been known to pass up a meal.”

“Excellent. It is Saturday, I will show you how Brazilians celebrate such afternoons. There is a fellow Fernando has a restaurant on Fifth Avenue just a few blocks from here, best Feijoada in the states.”

“I’m game.”

After a bit more banter I headed off to corral the other reprobates.

---

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

3.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.5 – Pensive

---

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---

I was glad to be rid of that blasted tunic. Its exotic charm had faded quickly. I was glad for my jeans. I was glad for the feel of the cool tumbler in my hand.

The tan liquid soothed as its familiar spiritual warmth embraced my palate. Balm was much required. The face I’d glimpsed in the bathroom mirror was not my own.

The eyes that peered from the gaunt brown visage shone with a luminosity that could never have been my own.

“What the hell do you think you know?” I mumbled sticking out my tongue at the unkempt specter staring back at me.

Everything seemed slow as if it were suspended in molasses. I felt this profound sort of calm…as if I were a deep and silty lake, fertile, fluid, and self-contained.

The thing that brought the need for balm was precisely this. It produced a sort of tranquil annoyance at the pace of things.

I stared at the large ornate clock hanging in the middle of the lobby. It lacked a second hand. A fact that only added to my Zen ennui.

That hour hand would circumnavigate that disk four times before I could give Thornton a piece of my mind. It was odd. All my ‘spiritual’ or ‘philosophical’ or really whatever realizations, hallucinations…whatever they were. These were still present strongly. Still enthusing me with their tantalizing energy. Yet the mundane was so tightly coupled with these. That’s why I could hate the acrid hotel coffee more than love the grandeur of zero.

Zero was an Indian invention or at least is purported to be. I could see something eastern, something Hindu, being the origin. I detested Hinduism. Its caste system and obscurantism were filth that very nearly nullified the sins of the English. But, I had great love and respect for the central Asian geist, the peculiar genius of that continent, and was not at all surprised that such a people would see such a magic potential in nothingness that they’d give it a name.

This I think was the summation of what we were supposed to realize. A sort of reorienting toward the true north of naught. Not empty in the sense of void but empty in the sense of the next second. Like the missing hand on the clock in front of me, you knew it was there. You knew it in the realization of well…realization. But I digress. At this point, I at least in part fancied that I’d grasped, ‘the other meaning of inheriting the wind.’ I knew much was coming out of nothing and couldn’t wait for the nothing to unfold. So I was, pensive.

Yes, pensive was the proper word. And, I must have telegraphed it. A sin that I found easy to forgive myself because I swear. I swear that 48 hours was never such an aeon in the history of man. They say that a billion years or some equally absurd sum is like a blink in the eye of God. Well, I felt very much like something was a bit lugubrious about the normal procession of terrestrial phenomenon. Was I so full of the Spirit that my mortal coil could no longer bear the constraints of the heliocentric orbit?

I allowed the gauche absurdity of approaching Godhood to wash over me. I chuckled internally. Ah, the calculus of conceit! What a ready folly for the novitiate mystic…Nowhere was I nor anyone else approaching Godhood. A fact that for me was presently highlighted by my obsession with the redhead behind the counter.

I suppose she was more of a brunette than a redhead. Reddish brown was the color. Not that it mattered. I think that I would have been fascinated by anything female after two weeks of boys club in the Mojave. This fixation though, it was different, it was something akin to limbo.

As I said, I must have telegraphed it, my pensiveness, my ennui.

She’d done that thing. The most annoying thing that a woman can do. She’d left me hanging.

I was the liasons officer after all. So it was no surprise that I was the only one in a state to speak after our adventure. I was the one who checked us into the hotel.

At first, she was all smiles and intrigue at the grim-faced ruffians who’d trooped through the posh lobby like so many marauding barbarians. Then during the course of our brief exchange I must have said something to annoy her. Because suddenly for no intelligible reason her effusiveness ceased. She informed me that I looked tense and in need of a drink and pointed in the direction of the bar.

That’s where I’d gotten the tumbler of Scotch. I think that subconsciously I was drawn in her direction. Because I left the bar to sit in the lobby. I had plausible deniability. That’s where the newspapers were. And I was, in fact, waiting for our contact to arrive. Yet, neither of those was the real reason.

I looked up from the corporate rag and briefly turned my eye in her direction. She was looking at me. She smiled coquettishly. Or maybe it was my imagination.

‘Great,’ I thought to myself, ‘two days of wondering if I should fuck the receptionist.’

---

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

---

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---

We dumped our gear all around the weird antique and set up our shade. The last few days were listless. Reading, dreaming, and silence, that was the trip.

We spent each night round the hole ridden tub. Impelled to be as near the thing as possible. Our four sleeping bags formed a neat little semi-circle round it.

I imagine that if someone had happened to fly by overhead they’d have thunk they’d stumbled cross some weird desert flower.

It was the whistling that did it. There was something in it. Some unspeakable allure.

We hardly ate and finished our daily assignments with desperate haste. All in the interest of laying round the brass flute and listening to its strange music. Drifting in and out of a bottomless somnolence that would take us from mid-afternoon on through to dawn.

I don’t remember what it was I’d dreamed. But I know it was profound. The memory of something monumentally important, something fundamental, still tickles the periphery of my conscience.

I do remember one dream, or whatever it was.

The fox came by on the second to last day just as evening had settled and just laid there a few paces off. Regarding us in its Sphinx-like way.

I don’t know if any of the others had seen it. As I’ve said we hadn’t spoken for days and seeing this familiar apparition was no cause for comment.

Then it spoke. It spoke as it had before, not aloud, but sort of in my head.

‘Pretty aren’t they?’

‘I suppose so,’ I answered. I knew the creature was referring to the chromatic light show that wove its way in and out of the holes with the wind.

‘Yea, one and the same.’

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Well, all of it really.’

‘O god, this old schtick! I thought I was past this mawkish infantile unity bit. Can’t I dream better?’

‘You really want to be original, don’t you? That’s the trouble with this crop. As if origin implies novelty. Does that make sense you utter pillock? Does it make any shade of sense that you should come up with some profundity – something you could call original – what does original imply? It implies origin – are you the origin?’

‘Well in some sense there is novel authorship. So I am the origin of novelty peculiar to me.’

‘And what made you capable of this then? You say you are the origin…’

‘No, I say that I am the origin of novelty.’

‘But then does novelty exist sperate from you? Did it exist before you existed? Or are you (laughingly) are you novelty itself?’

‘Yes, and no.’

‘Ah, don’t prevaricate. It’s all one and the same. Yes…in fact you hit it there. Yes and no. One and the same. Off or on? Hmm…?’

My mind was silent.

‘Lets have something different then. Something a bit more visceral a bit more limbic eh?’

With this, I was back in the dreamscape of that nap. There was the old man with his strings seated by the monolith in the jungle scene. Except this time I was not the sinewy youth. I wasn’t sure what I was at first, I knew that I was looking down at the pair, and I had a sense of great height.

After a bit, the youth and the old man’s chat ended. The former gathered up his strings and the pair disappeared out of my range of sight.

It was here that I’d realized I was a tree.

I spent some time musing about my predicament. I guess it wasn’t so bad being a tree. I felt solid. And despite being unable to move I had a calming sense of motion running through the ground beneath me, beneath the ground itself, my roots had inner motion, there was no need for an extrinsic walk.

Then she appeared. Her hair was such a raven hue that it felt in some sense blue. She was barefoot and quite devoid of clothes. I didn’t really feel any sort of lust. I was a tree after all. Though I did appreciate that she was beautiful and the flitting way she walked round my base was soothing.

She began to play a strange sort of flute. I later realized that the melody coincided with the whistling of the wind through the tub. But here in this place, it was not mere whistling but the sweetest music.

After the tune ended, she placed the flute on the ground beside me and disappeared back into the forest.

I was appreciating the warmth of the sun on my leafy crown and pondering what this all meant when I felt motion at my base. Then I had the impression of a vast speckled band writhing up my side. It wasn’t alarming, more like an embrace.

Suddenly, the scene shifted and I was in a very cold dim room in some rather itchy clothes. Graham was seated at a table next to a window through which some dwindling sunlight aided the candle atop an antique desk. He was wearing what appeared to be colonial garb. I was confused.

The man that looked up looked like Graham but wasn’t Graham.

All he said as he slowly raised his head was, ‘Hmm, looks like it’s some manner of vine.’

I don’t recall anything further.

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1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

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