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Deep Colors in Threes
by
Jerry Vilhotti
Tom began speaking to his headlights that were showing him the way. He sang a few lines from a Hank Williams song about seeing the light and then began to talk to the outer darkness in the direction of Northshredder New York where he thought he would find Christ with His heart glowing in a compassionate red holding a lamb and not nailed to a cross Who would stop the greatest country ever invented from being viewed like a so-called mother beating a child - going from the "ugly-American" to the "anti-human-everything-monster goose stepping American - and so Tom used his comforting way of speaking in threes: "Got to get far far away from that smelly restaurant near Washington Irving with it sucking away money into now fifty thousand dollars in debt with all its red curtains, gray rug's and six black fireplaces!" He repeated this two more times.
Tom was referring to the little French restaurant with four chefs screaming at each other with knives drawn that he and his fourth wife Rhoda bought and then enlarged from the one room flat O. Henry had lived in to three times and they anxiously waited for the throngs of Manhattanites to come and eat - making them richer - but most of them became lost around Fourteenth street.
Tom continued north convinced that was where he would find Christ and even maybe himself. It sure was getting complicated to find one's way around what with all the color codes to understand.
"People will be jumping out of their cars when they come to a traffic light not knowing what to do when seeing all three colors of green, yellow and red for a simultaneous second!" Tom said three times as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter not realizing he was only nine miles away from his first confinement in a place for stressed out people near Kafka Mountain.
"Three, six, nine," he said three times.
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