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Star Thirty-eight Excerpt from NOTES OF A PURPLE-PEOPLE-EATER FROM FESTIVUS MAXIMUS "What do they call it?""Maximus Defensivus." Three scruffy middle-aged men ambled toward the front of the car as the doors shut and the Light Rail began to lurch forward. "Naw, that ain't it. It's Maximum Festivus." They sat down, one on either side, the third taking a seat that faced forward, perpendicular to the other two. "Festivus? No…..it's Festivus Maximus. That's what they're callin' it. The whole celebration." "O'Malley made some sort of deal with them, didn't he?" "Somethin' like that. Don't they have to buy him somethin'?" One of them fumbled with the zipper on his jacket. "Use some WD-40 on that. Loosen it up." "Nah." "I mean, it's not a good lubricant, but it's good for loosenin' stuff up." "I think they gotta read somethin'. Poe, I think." "Oh, Edgar Allan Poe." "Yeah. They gotta read The Raven out on the steps of someplace." "Oh, that oughta be good. I gotta see that. Yeah. I should call my mother up and tell her to tape that, tell her I gotta see that." "I use'ta have an Edgar Allan Poe book. First edition. I sold it. Know how much I got for it?" "Nah." "Twelve-hundred bucks." "That's good. Get the kids readin' about The Raven and Poe and all." "Yeah. The first story in it was about two guys. They go out in a boat and get lost. I can't remember what it's called." "Check this out," said the largest of the three, pulling a small white purse from his camouflage field jacket. He handed it to the man on the opposite side. "Looks like new. Look at that." "Yeah, looks pretty new." The camouflaged man pulled out a stack of money and began counting it on the seat beside him. "Ahhh, look," said the man holding the purse. "It's got a little spot on it." "Where?" "Right there." The camouflaged man eyed the purse closely. "Well," he said, quickly folding the wad of bills and stuffing it into his pocket. "If anyone asks, it's brand-new." Three decades have passed since Baltimore last won the Super Bowl. Three stops have passed since I got on the Light Rail. And there, at the front of the car, no more than three seats ahead of me, sit three men whose enthusiasm I share only to the degree that we're all riding mass transit, and it's not my pocketbook… |
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