the rocks were just delivered. gomez... i mean Beloved... was beside himself with glee. he had me out and moving cars around before the sun came up. a very large mack truck brought the rocks. it was quite a procedure apparently, to get the truck down the driveway but i wasn't around to see the actual delivery because i had to drive libby to school.
when i got home, there was gomez ... i mean Beloved... outfitted as predicted standing beside his rockpile, practically dancing for joy. i snapped and hummed a few bars, moved the yellow bug, and went inside.
so how'd it go? i asked. how come the rocks aren't closer to the pond?
well, said Beloved, the driver wasn't happy. he kept cursing. he said mean things. i don't think he liked me. i don't think he was a yankee fan. maybe his life among the rocks has hardened him.
i bet lurch and thing would be puzzled, too.