The Squirrel Monkey

By the time Joe Dog was out of the Diving Bell and waiting on the curb for Bonnie Bimbo he was looking fairly sober. He swayed a little but a slight sway is part of Joe's normal, 'cool', persona. His hands were in his pockets, his jacket wasn't too disheveled, and he looked out at the world as if he were ready to engage with it. I was pleased with him. The rain had stopped and the clouds had risen a little. It was going to be a nice night.

I swung my Jackster out onto Orbital Drive and joined an interesting traffic pattern. Everyone on the highway was going a very smooth 40-miles-per-hour in both directions - a car length of space between every car. Personally, I didn't mind the slow down. Nobody was waiting up for me out at Woody Spit and I knew once I crossed the Poultry Bridge and headed down Memorial Drive it would thin out. I hit the radio and they were playing a cut from Fatty Walrus's new album, Ghostie Romance - a song called The Way You Look Tonight. Sultry and elegant.

The city lights, the dark clouds, the rolling sea at my side - everything had a silky quality. All these evenly spaced cars dancing along the coastline, keeping their measured pace, made me wonder if Orbital Drive got its name from way cars are orbiting the city like a constellation of stars whirling about some huge central star.

I noticed that the car next to me was a red Jackster run by a young Squirell Monkey. He had the Jackster with the arm conversion. The guy was sedately pumping the steering wheel back and forth to the rhythm of Fatty Walrus. It was funny seeing somebody driving along and pumping his Jackster to exactly the same rhythm as I was (even though I was doing my pumping with my feet).

Poultry Bridge was coming up and I changed my mind about going straight to Woody Spit. It wasn't that late. Ben Bear would still be up. I could tell him about my idea for adding an active rotary shaft to our prototype Jackster Hopper, the Hoppermobile, and renaming it the Hoverhopper.

To get up to The Caves I needed to change lanes to get into the River Run lane on the Bridge. I nudged the Squirell Monkey next to me and he let go of his steering wheel and gestured me in. He waved me in front of him keeping time to the music and giving me a big grin. He had noticed that we were rolling along together and pumping in time to Fatty Walrus on the radio. I gave him the thumbs up and then scooted in front while he hung back. It felt great. We were in the flow.