Shouts & Murmurs as published in New Yorker

Shouts & Murmurs

As published in the New Yorker

By Dan Patch & Lola Nation

Future Move

She suggested that with the inheritance from her step-father and my recent lottery winnings we move to Alaska, kidnapping her ex lover’s daughter, she’d keep house and I’d be a crab fisherman.   I could claim she’s my half-wit sister and get to work with my hands and we could tell stories to the locals which would impress them and build a following we’re use to while living a normal life.

I have a psychic gift and foretell the future for her.

Here, look into the crystal ball

It’s cold, wet and dark.

She can see I’m having a hard time writing this because I’m missing some fingers (because that’s what happens to fingers on boats).  I’m kind of drunk too.  I started drinking when I lost the first finger, so, like 4 or 5 fingers ago.

I got sick of the tweaker-eskimo neighbor parking his truck in my spot.  Every day I told him “one igloo, one spot!”

It wasn’t long before I took my shot using six and a half fingers (not bad!) at the Eskimo bastard, with his three Suzuki Samurai's he's been restoring forever, right through his igloo living room window.

The bullet went through the skinny tweaker-eskimo (it's just a big fur coat) and out the back igloo window, down the Igloo Street, and hit the 1 postal worker in the igloo post office/99 cent store. She worked there 45 years, back when it was a Dime store, blue chip stamps n' all- you could get a canoe!

I’m sure you heard it on the news; they said- "City folk move here and go postal" (you shoot 1 postal worker...shit).

Me and a 40oz Zima? That's malt liquor trouble... with a twist of lime. Who knew Alaska was the only place that still sold Zima? Maybe it's brewed in Norway now? Brewed, however it's made, what is that shit anyway, like schizophrenic 7up?.

My Capri light 100 falls out of my good hand (with 3 fingers, ok 2 and a thumb) as I take off on my 85 Honda Elite scooter (the 250cc red one with corvette flip headlight...hell yeah!  Held open with duct tape).

The first turn I took I hit that black ice shit. I've heard about it on youtube but never seen it in real life. I was wide open doing 18+ mph when I crashed head first into a snow bank. Stuck head first in snow I never really thought about polar bears. Didn't we kill them all off with the Indians? Like she said we did unicorns n' stuff.

 Anyway, alive but face down, ass up, that's the way I like to...be eaten alive by a giant prehistoric bear!

She said, “Let’s all live in a dark frozen place where giant bears live” Sure lady, good idea. That’s like living in Florida (need I say more?).

I would of made that turn with just one more finger I bet. I would of been saved in the "big city" even if I was just a head on a box with a bunch of tubes running from it. The local Dr/Postal worker/Snow plow driver was not available for some reason, so my head still alive head (like when kids are found in swimming pools after an hour and are still alive... from the cold or whatever?)  Just froze solid in the snow.

The local Sheriff said the last thing the half frozen head mumbled was “Damn you Deadliest catch...Damn all the Tattoo shows. No that's a flower not a gang tattoo! I have a..ne...ck?"

The Sheriff told local news:  "That's what them Zima drinkin' scooter stealing' felonious addicts get!" and to call the local Sheriff/plumber/Gun shop if you are missing a head... or a scooter. 

The crystal ball begins to cloud up and I tell her, maybe Florida, I know zombies run real fast now, rape homeless guys and eat face meats but how fast do alligators run or do they have crocodiles?

She said she’d get back to me on that note.