Taming the Alien

‘The best the white world offered was not enough ecstasy for me. Not enough life, joy, kicks, darkness, music; not enough night.’
(Jack Kerouac)

As Fenton tried not to run, he felt the adrenalin build to a point beyond mere rush. His mind roared: You did it, you did it, you bloody did it! — Then his arm was grabbed. Disbelief pounded through his body.

Caught! Already!

And turned to see a black guy, something familiar about him, the guy saying, ‘Yo, fool, you owes me a buck and a half!’

‘What?’

‘The other day, dude. I be giving yo’ sorry ass a pamphlet ’bout dem CIA …

‘Oh right … I thought it was free.’

‘Where yo’ been, dude? Ain’t nothing free on the street.’

Fenton reached for change, handed over a five. The guy wailin’, ‘What cha thinkin’, like I’m gonna make change?’

Fenton laughed, said, ‘Keep it, knock yourself out mate.’

‘Yo dissin’ me man, dat what cha thinkin’?’

Now the Alien laughed out loud, asked, ‘Is that what they’re calling it? Dissin’. What will you guys think of next?’