Page 6 (1/2)

Fritz’s ht lose my contempt”

“If I know Fritz Wong, it’ll be back in about thirty seconds”

Fritz watched as I lifted my bike from the car

“You are almost German, I think”

I climbed on my bike “I’m insulted”

“Do you speak to all people this way?”

“No, only to Frederick the Great, whose manners I deplore but whose films I love”

Fritz Wong unscrewed the monocle from his eye and dropped it in his shirt pocket It was as if he had let a coin fall to start some inner machine

“I’ve been watching you for some days,” he intoned “In fits of insanity, I read your stories You are not lacking talent, which I could polish I a, God help me, on a hopeless film about Christ, Herod Antipas, and all those knucklehead saints The film started nine million dollars back with a dipso director who couldn’t handle kindergarten traffic I have been elected to bury the corpse What kind of Christian are you?”

“Fallen away”

“Good! Don’t be surprised if I get you fired from your dumb dinosaur epic If you could help me embalm this Christ horror film, it’s a step up for you The Lazarus principle! If you work on a dead turkey and pry it out of the film vaults, you earn points Let me watch and read you a few more days Appear at the commissary at one sharp today Eat what I eat, speak when spoken to, yes? you talented little bastard”

“Yes, Unterseeboot Kapitän, you big bastard, sir”

As I biked off, he gave me a shove But it was not a shove to hurt, only the quietest old philosopher’s push, to help o

I did not look back

I feared to see hi back