The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove by Christopher Moore Page A
Authors: Christopher Moore
Tags: Humor
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the pseudo-Tudor half-timbered buildings and formed green coronas around the streetlights. Above it all, the red Texaco sign shone like a beacon.
The Sea Beast changed the color of his skin to the same smoky gray as the fog and moved down the
center of the street looking like a serpentine cloud. He followed a low rumbling sound coming from under the red beacon, broke out of the fog, and there he saw her.
She purred, taunting and teasing him from the front of the deserted Texaco station.That come-hither rumble.That low, sexy growl. Those silver flanks reflecting fog and the red Texaco sign called to him, begged him to mount her. The Sea Beast flashed a rainbow of color down his sides to display his magnificent maleness. He fanned the gill trees on his neck, sending bands of color and light into their branches.
The Sea Beast sent her a signal, which roughly translated into: "Hey, baby, haven't seen you around before." She sat there, purring, playing coy, but he knew she wanted him. She had short black legs, a stumpy tail, and smelled as if she may have recently eaten a trawler, but those magnificent silver flanks were too much to resist.
The Sea Beast turned himself silver as well, to make her feel a little more comfortable, then reared up on his hind legs and displayed his aroused member. No response, just that shy purring. He took it as an invitation and moved across the parking lot to mount the fuel truck.
Estelle Estelle placed a mug of tea in front of Catfish,then sat down across the table from him with her own.
Catfish sipped the tea and grimaced, then pulled the pint from his back pocket and unscrewed the cap.
Estelle caught his hand before he could pour.
"You have some explaining to do first, Mr. Bluesman." Estelle was more than a little rattled. When they were only half a mile away from the beach, she had been overtaken by a sudden urge to return and had fought Catfish for control of the car. It was crazy behavior. It frightened her as much as the thing at the beach had, and when they got to her house she immediately took a Zoloft, even though she'd already had her dose for the day.
"Leave me be, woman. I said I'd tell you. I needs me some nerve medicine."
Estelle released his hand. "What was that at the beach?"
Catfish splashed some whiskey into Estelle's tea first,then into his own. He grinned, "You see my name wasn't always Catfish. I was born with the name of Meriwether Jefferson. Catfish come on me sometime later."
"Christ Catfish, I'm sixty years old. Am I going to live long enough to hear the end of this story? What in the hell was out in the water tonight?" She was definitely not herself, swearing like this.
"You wanna know or not?"
Estelle sipped her tea. "Sorry, go ahead."
six Catfish's Story Was 'bout fifty year ago.I was hoboing through the Delta, playin juke joints with my partner Smiley.
He called Smileycause he don't never get the Blues. Boy could play the Blues, but he never got the Blues, not for a second. He be broke and hungover and he still always smilin. Make me crazy. I say, "Smiley, you ain't never gone play no better'n Deaf Cotton, lessin you feels it."
Deaf Cotton Dormeyer was this ol' boy we used to play with time to time. See, them days, bunch of Bluesmen was blind, so theybe called Blind Lemon Jefferson, Blind Willie Jackson – like that. Andthem boys could play them some Blues. But ol' Cotton, he deaf as a stone, a little bit more of a burden than bein blind iffin you playing music. We be playing "Crossroads," an' ol' Deaf Cotton be over on the side playin' "Walkin Man's Blues" and a-howlin like a ol' dog, and we stop, go down to the store, have us a Nabs and a Co-Cola, and Deaf Cotton just keep right on playin.And he the lucky one, 'cause he can't hear how bad he is. And didn'tnobody have the head to tell him.
So, anyway, Isays, "You ain't never gone play no better than ol' Deaf Cotton, lessin you get some Blues on you."
And Smiley say, "You gots to help me."
Now
The Sea Beast changed the color of his skin to the same smoky gray as the fog and moved down the
center of the street looking like a serpentine cloud. He followed a low rumbling sound coming from under the red beacon, broke out of the fog, and there he saw her.
She purred, taunting and teasing him from the front of the deserted Texaco station.That come-hither rumble.That low, sexy growl. Those silver flanks reflecting fog and the red Texaco sign called to him, begged him to mount her. The Sea Beast flashed a rainbow of color down his sides to display his magnificent maleness. He fanned the gill trees on his neck, sending bands of color and light into their branches.
The Sea Beast sent her a signal, which roughly translated into: "Hey, baby, haven't seen you around before." She sat there, purring, playing coy, but he knew she wanted him. She had short black legs, a stumpy tail, and smelled as if she may have recently eaten a trawler, but those magnificent silver flanks were too much to resist.
The Sea Beast turned himself silver as well, to make her feel a little more comfortable, then reared up on his hind legs and displayed his aroused member. No response, just that shy purring. He took it as an invitation and moved across the parking lot to mount the fuel truck.
Estelle Estelle placed a mug of tea in front of Catfish,then sat down across the table from him with her own.
Catfish sipped the tea and grimaced, then pulled the pint from his back pocket and unscrewed the cap.
Estelle caught his hand before he could pour.
"You have some explaining to do first, Mr. Bluesman." Estelle was more than a little rattled. When they were only half a mile away from the beach, she had been overtaken by a sudden urge to return and had fought Catfish for control of the car. It was crazy behavior. It frightened her as much as the thing at the beach had, and when they got to her house she immediately took a Zoloft, even though she'd already had her dose for the day.
"Leave me be, woman. I said I'd tell you. I needs me some nerve medicine."
Estelle released his hand. "What was that at the beach?"
Catfish splashed some whiskey into Estelle's tea first,then into his own. He grinned, "You see my name wasn't always Catfish. I was born with the name of Meriwether Jefferson. Catfish come on me sometime later."
"Christ Catfish, I'm sixty years old. Am I going to live long enough to hear the end of this story? What in the hell was out in the water tonight?" She was definitely not herself, swearing like this.
"You wanna know or not?"
Estelle sipped her tea. "Sorry, go ahead."
six Catfish's Story Was 'bout fifty year ago.I was hoboing through the Delta, playin juke joints with my partner Smiley.
He called Smileycause he don't never get the Blues. Boy could play the Blues, but he never got the Blues, not for a second. He be broke and hungover and he still always smilin. Make me crazy. I say, "Smiley, you ain't never gone play no better'n Deaf Cotton, lessin you feels it."
Deaf Cotton Dormeyer was this ol' boy we used to play with time to time. See, them days, bunch of Bluesmen was blind, so theybe called Blind Lemon Jefferson, Blind Willie Jackson – like that. Andthem boys could play them some Blues. But ol' Cotton, he deaf as a stone, a little bit more of a burden than bein blind iffin you playing music. We be playing "Crossroads," an' ol' Deaf Cotton be over on the side playin' "Walkin Man's Blues" and a-howlin like a ol' dog, and we stop, go down to the store, have us a Nabs and a Co-Cola, and Deaf Cotton just keep right on playin.And he the lucky one, 'cause he can't hear how bad he is. And didn'tnobody have the head to tell him.
So, anyway, Isays, "You ain't never gone play no better than ol' Deaf Cotton, lessin you get some Blues on you."
And Smiley say, "You gots to help me."
Now
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