If My Memory Serves Me Right, chapter 4
Jesus and I left the Center Of The Earth and headed down to the local 7-11. Little did I know, as we left the Center Of The Earth that day, I left behind one of the last situations I'd feel comfortable in while I was in Jingletown. But it is said that ignorance is bliss, so I'm glad I could not foresee the events that followed in the time that came after.
As usual, I immediately saw some familiar faces once Jesus and I reached the 7-11. Tunny came over to us while we got some coffee and we sat outside and watched the world go by.
"So Jesus," Tunny said cunningly. "I see you and Whatsername here have started to get pretty close."
I pushed him playfully, but I didn't really mind. As far as I was concerned, Tunny was alright. After all, he was the one who introduced me to Jesus. He had led me to the only one who could drive away my demons and make me feel happy.
"She's a rebel, Tunny," Jesus said, putting his arm around me. "And she's a fucking saint."
"How do you figure?" Tunny enquired. He knew very well that I was as much of a rebel as him, but he hadn't been there for the conversation at the Center Of The Earth with Jesus.
"We're all saints. Everyone in the Underbelly. Because we've all got our heads on straight. We're living in a land of make believe that don't believe in us. But we don't believe in their hypocrisy. So we're the ones who are living life like it's supposed to be lived. We're the denial; against all that fucking corruption and bullshit."
Tunny grinned. "And you're the leader, Jesus. You're the patron saint of the denial."
"But things need to change, Tunny. We need to make them change. People need to see what they're living with. They need to see that we're not as messed up as they think. We're the ones who have gotten it right."
"Well every good saint has a crusade, right?" I said jokingly.
Jesus looked at me. Our eyes met and locked, and I was caught up in that stare that I never wanted to look away from. He smiled, and the moment passed.
"Well I'm Saint Jimmy, aren't I? This is my crusade in the name of the Underbelly," he said.
"Saint Jimmy? That's good stuff, man. It's you completely," Tunny enthused.
"And don't you fucking wear it out," Jimmy said. He up towards the clouds with a slight smile on his face as the rain began to fall.
***
Days turned into weeks, and the Underbelly seemed to change along with the seasons. The Underbelly seemed to grow until it was stacked up ten high, and the kids were getting rougher and wilder. I'd seen Jimmy find squats for kids who had just been kicked out onto the street only to find those same kids shooting up on a street. I didn't know what Jimmy was trying to accomplish by accommodating these types of kids, but I didn't question him on it.
Jimmy was changing too. He became a lot more restless and at times I had trouble getting him to open up to me. His new nickname had spread thanks to Tunny, and soon everyone was calling him St. Jimmy. I went along with it. It seemed the St. Jimmy was the spark in the night for a lot of the street punks. He was who they could go to for a squat or if they needed something stolen. I stood aside and respected his skills when it came to that. The one thing I would not tolerate is drugs though. Too many bad memories. Too much harm done.
But time went by and I never found him using any. That was fine. And he was still good to me. I was as happy as ever in Jingletown, I just found I needed to adapt to the new situation. But no amount of adapting was going to help me considering what came next.
As usual, I immediately saw some familiar faces once Jesus and I reached the 7-11. Tunny came over to us while we got some coffee and we sat outside and watched the world go by.
"So Jesus," Tunny said cunningly. "I see you and Whatsername here have started to get pretty close."
I pushed him playfully, but I didn't really mind. As far as I was concerned, Tunny was alright. After all, he was the one who introduced me to Jesus. He had led me to the only one who could drive away my demons and make me feel happy.
"She's a rebel, Tunny," Jesus said, putting his arm around me. "And she's a fucking saint."
"How do you figure?" Tunny enquired. He knew very well that I was as much of a rebel as him, but he hadn't been there for the conversation at the Center Of The Earth with Jesus.
"We're all saints. Everyone in the Underbelly. Because we've all got our heads on straight. We're living in a land of make believe that don't believe in us. But we don't believe in their hypocrisy. So we're the ones who are living life like it's supposed to be lived. We're the denial; against all that fucking corruption and bullshit."
Tunny grinned. "And you're the leader, Jesus. You're the patron saint of the denial."
"But things need to change, Tunny. We need to make them change. People need to see what they're living with. They need to see that we're not as messed up as they think. We're the ones who have gotten it right."
"Well every good saint has a crusade, right?" I said jokingly.
Jesus looked at me. Our eyes met and locked, and I was caught up in that stare that I never wanted to look away from. He smiled, and the moment passed.
"Well I'm Saint Jimmy, aren't I? This is my crusade in the name of the Underbelly," he said.
"Saint Jimmy? That's good stuff, man. It's you completely," Tunny enthused.
"And don't you fucking wear it out," Jimmy said. He up towards the clouds with a slight smile on his face as the rain began to fall.
***
Days turned into weeks, and the Underbelly seemed to change along with the seasons. The Underbelly seemed to grow until it was stacked up ten high, and the kids were getting rougher and wilder. I'd seen Jimmy find squats for kids who had just been kicked out onto the street only to find those same kids shooting up on a street. I didn't know what Jimmy was trying to accomplish by accommodating these types of kids, but I didn't question him on it.
Jimmy was changing too. He became a lot more restless and at times I had trouble getting him to open up to me. His new nickname had spread thanks to Tunny, and soon everyone was calling him St. Jimmy. I went along with it. It seemed the St. Jimmy was the spark in the night for a lot of the street punks. He was who they could go to for a squat or if they needed something stolen. I stood aside and respected his skills when it came to that. The one thing I would not tolerate is drugs though. Too many bad memories. Too much harm done.
But time went by and I never found him using any. That was fine. And he was still good to me. I was as happy as ever in Jingletown, I just found I needed to adapt to the new situation. But no amount of adapting was going to help me considering what came next.
