she's gone

I remember it like it were a coffee break ago.......

My house.

But, not MY house!!

It couldn't be!!

Not with the front door wide open, swaying back and forth.

Furniture thrown about like pillows at a children's sleepover.

But this was no sleepover. No child's play.

I had to collect myself, and quickly.

"Is anything missing?"

"Anyone?"

And that's when it hit me like a freshman wide receiver who was lucky enough to make varsity gets hit in his first real hit in a game....like a freaking bus!

"Oh my god!!

My baby is gone!!"

My one truest of all true loves is no where in sight!!

Every day she sits by THIS now broken window and waits for me to come walking on home!!

Her tradition.

OUR tradition!!

I scoop her up every day and hold her dearly. And as my hands caress her dearly she tells me everything.

Her secrets. Her stories.....

But not today!! Silence rips through this home.

"Hardly a home at all" I thought.

This was way personal. So i knew call the authorities wouldn't matter.

A crime like this, no.

Hell, I could have killed a man in those moments.

This was no time to call the cops.

Besides, that's when i saw it. The ransom note.

If you could even call it that.

In crayon, written in a childish whimsical way,

"We got Stella. All this will take is the apology you owe. Otherwise, we stomp her body in and break her neck in two. You know where to go Ringo. So kick rocks and hurry your ass!!"

Panic. Followed by fatigue. And if you promise not to mention it, a couple tears. Fatigue hit hard.

Normally this was about time when I'd be making my absolutely gourmet, organic, gluten free, double cappa cappuccino mocha latte, with skim milk of course.

But my caffeine endorphins are gonna have to sit and look pretty on this one.

Pissed. I was.

Short and not sweet.

Foul tasting. As id imagine being pissed would taste like. But actually pissed.

So i scooped up the satchel, found a discarded flap cap, and on the pedals i ran.

Yes bicycle.

I wasn't going very far. Only one idiot who'd dare call me Ringo, by far the most hated of all the beloved Beatles.

My favorite is Paul.

But we was talking about Mikey!!

That poor excuse for a drummer i used to play in a band with.

Only beat he'd ever keep are the type that your mother makes you eat to grow up big and strong. Not big and no rhythm.

Useless old bat.

And for whatever reason he's taken my baby off her neat little perch she sits on daily. Waiting for daddy to come home. My hands actually ached from not holding her. They pulsed as i gripped the handle bars on my vintage Schwinn.

"Im coming baby!!"

Two blocks down and then four streets over.

The big ugly blue house on the corner with all those dogs......if you could call them dogs.

Flea bitten skeletons that don't so much bark than bite and scream at you. Even if u walk by across the street.

Hell, after this maybe I'll call animal control too. Get a pup or two rescued even. Poor pathetic flea bitten bastards.

Only authorities I was calling today. No sir. This was personal and was gonna be quick.

In a thunderous roar of pit bull cacophony and the load clank of that old Schwinn hitting the ground, I was at his door step. I stopped and picked up the bike and used the kickstand right quick. Love that bike after all, classic.

But as quick as i was gentle I was back to full limit enraged love struck fool. That front door didnt stand a chance. Five hard knocks. And that already took long enough before one hard kick had it face down in the living room floor. Place reaked of cabbage. Awful really. And there my "Mr. can't keep his hands off of what's mine, Mr. One and a two and a......wait what was it.....?" stood.

It had to been, I dunno. Two, maybe five. Not to sure, full whole minuets before i could actually hold back anger and have something besides growls and saliva come out of my mouth. I made his mutts look like kittens inside a box outside Walmart!! Minus the fleas.

"Where is she Mikey!!" I finally blurted out. Followed by drool and determination.

Plus i gave him the wide eyed mad man look. Like the

"you better start talking before i start doing something really freaking stupid we are both gonna regret me doing."

You know, THAT LOOK!!

Mikey stood there, in his boxer shorts holding his only cat under one arm and an alarm clock radio in the other. What he was actually doing, who the hell cares at this point.

He drops the puss and radio.

"oh hey Ringo, didn't expect you for another hour or so. You caught me at a bad time, i was about too....."

It was true, I had gotten off work early that day. Things were slow. But my response was quick,

"The hell what you and the feline had in mind" I wallowed. "The hell have you done? Where do you get the nerve? And stop....calling....me that stupid, stupid name. YOU!! are the drummer moron!! And I play rhythm, and that,.....you aint got a drop of."

He snarled, but then almost immediately had a change of heart.

Cause before he could make a move for the very conveniently placed baseball bat there was lying besides his nasty old favorite recliner, I pulled out who we both know as my second love.

Ahem, may I introduce you all to Stella 2.

Yea, name needs work. But what a .38 special says when you point it at a guy is,

" hey muchacho, best listen up, shut up, and put up."

And you better believe the coward did. He lead me to a little back room to when he had the door ajar, I went ahead and knocked his block with the butt of the gun. Baam!!

'How's that for a drum solo Mikey!!" guys gotta say something after something like that you know.

"you see, I don't live in a very nice neighborhood. Its all i can afford on a musicians budget. So its slim pickin's and fire arms for this guy. oh, and good coffee of course. Did I mention vintage bicycles?

Call me hipster and maybe you wish you hadn't have done that.

Life and lessons, you know.

But right now........ I was feeling pretty good."

And as for Stella, sure, she was in that musty old room.

I couldn't have been more happy to see her either.

I picked her right up, right then and their and held her like no other.

Was lucky to have her.

Afterall, some bachelors don't ever find love. Even had a bit of time before Mikey woke up and i had to give him the business, to even play a little solo on her. Always loved listening to my Stells. And she plays like a dream too.

Your buddy, Paul. chao. Hey, still aint no hipster!!