Appalachian Galapagos Read Free Page A

was about to do.
    "Ever see the Darwin awards?" Frank asked. The river blasted air and mist behind him.
    Lukas' eyes crossed and uncrossed several times.
    "It's a list of morons that comes out every year."
    Lukas cracked open a beer and threw one to Jimmy. "We ain't morons. They live over in Hixon and are nuthin ' but a bunch of married cousins."
    Jimmy punched Lukas in the chest and both of them cracked up in drunken laughter. It was several seconds before they straightened and noticed Frank's dull Not Funny stare.
    "So what are the Darin awards?" Jimmy asked. "Is that for best husband on Bewitched ?"
    "I like Dick York, myself," Lukas said.
    "I bet you do, ya old fag."
    "I ain't no fag. I just got good taste. And speakin ' of taste, ain't you the one who has had a crush on Barbara Eden all these years. Shit, I bet you're the only one who has ever rented Harper Valley PTA from the Blockbuster store. Hell, Frank. The dumb bastard could have owned it ten times over the number of times he rented the damn movie."
    "What? You don't like I Dream of Genie ? You actually tryin ' to say Genie ain't hot? And you call yerself a man of taste?"
    "Listen. One on one, in a Texas Cage Match, I'd take that Bewitched lady any day. All she'd need to do is jerk her head and POOF , Genie's in a straight jacket hanging upside down pretendin ' not to be a pi ñ ata. Can't cast her spells if she can't move her arms."
    "And Elizabeth Montgomery wouldn't be even able to cast a spell once Barbara got her in a headlock."
    "Fool, all Elizabeth's gotta do is be able to wrinkle her nose. I don't think a headlock is gonna stop the witch from a nose-wrinkle move. Genie's fucked if she don't slap the witch in the face but quick and maybe break it."
    This time their laughter carried them to the fern-covered forest floor and their howls mixed with the sound of the raging river. They wrestled, each trying to punch and kick the other until they finally wobbled to their feet, beer and mud coating their clothes.
    Frank grabbed a beer. Instead of joining his friends in their Budweiser-soaked excitement, he cleared off the top of the cooler, sat down, and watched. He couldn't help but laugh at the childish delight exhibited by his friends. They were absolutely nothing like his associates in the fast and deadly world of big city business.
    And he was thankful for that.
    "All right. All right," Jimmy said, still breathing hard from his impromptu WWF audition with Lukas. "We're just funnin '. What's up with the Darwin Awards? What's your point?"
    "My point is," Frank said with a sigh, "is that these morons are put on this list because they kill themselves in moronic ways. Some stick their heads through storm drains to get a quarter they dropped and end up getting drowned. Some pull down soda machines on themselves trying to steal a Pepsi. Some get stuck in chimneys trying to play Santa Claus and get roasted. Hey, the point is that most people find this list funny."
    "Only a sick, city dwellin ' fuck like you would find a list like that funny, Frank," Lukas said. "People dyin ' ain't funny."
    "Don't listen to Frank, Lukas," Jimmy said. "He's always ramblin ' on about strange shit. You should hear him after a couple more beers. He just gets fuckin' weirder and wierder . I think it's all that culture he's been gettin' watchin ' the Discovery Channel and that homo-Australian Snake Handler. Besides, who the hell is Darwin to be judgin ' everyone?"
    "He's the one said we came from monkeys," Lukas said, his voice almost scholarly.
    "You callin ' my mother a monkey, Frank? Is that what yer doin '?
    "A freakin' Chimpanzee! Even better, King Kong was yer daddy!"
    Jimmy sneered, either too tired or too stoned to kick the shit out of Lukas.
    "For fuck's sake. Calm down. Nothing like that at all. Charles Darwin was a scientist who hypothesized...made a guess...that there was no way that the Bible was totally accurate. He believed that we were like apes once. Over the years, we're