The first rays of the morning sun were falling on the bed, and Madison was watching Gina's naked shoulder rise and fall, her red hair in a beautiful tangle across the pillow and across Blake's right arm. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and he was hoping the two hours of lovemaking hadn't done further damage. Blake lit a Pall Mall as his eyes moved around the room talking in the Hopi Kachina on the shelf, the 1967 Fillmore poster in blue and orange that promoted a show by the Byrds and Moby Grape, a photo Gina had taken of an old man selling flowers, another she had taken of Jim Morrison at the Hollywood Bowl. From a pair of pegs near the balcony window hung her old worn Gibson Hummingbird.
Gina moaned and turned slightly on her back. Blake looked at her. There was some grey streaking that magnificent main of red hair, wrinkles near her lips, lots of smile lines around the eyes. Despite the hard miles, he had to admit she had aged well. God knows she was still just as rambunctious in bed as she'd been in 1971 when they'd first met. She smiled a little, a bright dream apparently passing through.
Blake eased out of bed, took the cordless phone and walked into the living room, dialing the number of his office to pick up any calls. He was surprised when a voice tinged with Terre Haute Indiana said "Private Eye Blake Madison's Office, may I help you please?"
Blake hesitated in surprise and the voice said, tentatively, "hello?"
"Who's this?" said Blake.
"Vera Jane Hill. May I ask who's calling, please?"
"This is me... Blake Madison."
There was another pause, and Vera Jane said "I can explain, Mr Madison. You remember my mom Ella Hill, her name was Mason then, she was your close friend, well, I wanted to come to California and she said see Blake Madison, he might give a job to a girl like you and.."
"Vera Jane," Blake said, "you're hired."
"I am? When should I start?"
"Sounds like you've already started, Vera Jane. Anyone call me?"
"Yes, Mr Madison. A Doctor Lane called from North Hollywood Medical Center, your Mom called, the landlord called twice, a Lieutenant Becker from LAPD..."
"So nothing important."
"No sir."
"How did you get in, Vera Jane? Pick the lock?"
"No Mr Madison. The door was unlocked, sir."
"Fine. Key's in the skinny drawer in my desk. Lock up at five, come in tomorrow at 9. If anyone calls, you haven't heard from me."
"Yes, Mr Madison."
"Goodbye, Vera Jane."
"Goodbye! Thanks for the job!'
Blake hung up, a vague vision of Emma Mason flitting across his mental landscape.
Madison climbed back into bed, his arm throbbing. He lay back, closed his eyes, the throbbing receding into the distance where a distant sun was rising over desert hills, the bizarre shapes of Joshua Trees numberless across the terrain like human figures, arms raised in jubilation or despair, and the soundtrack to this dream was provided by a figure perched on a rock in black silhouette against the rising sun of the morning. As the tune resonated, the figure began to sing

brass buttons, green silks and silver shoes
Warm evenings, pale mornings, bottle of blues
and the tiny golden pins that she wore up in her hair
brass buttons, green silks and silver shoes

"Thought I'd seen the last of you, GP," said Madison. Gram's Ghost continued strumming as he smiled, saying "though that was you, Blake ol buddy. Survived the encounter with the truck, I see."
"Takes more than that to kill Blake Madison."
Parsons laughed. "Oh you'd be surprised how little it actually takes." Gram folded his hands and rested them on the guitar, and said "I used to come out here with ol Keith Richards and Anita Pallenberg. She sat on that very rock where you are sittin'. Naked. While Keith and me played our guitars. That was a long time back." Parsons put down his guitar and strolled over to Madison. "You know, the Man wanted me to come down 'n fetch you. He wanted to make that heart of yours just quit." Parsons ran his fingers through his hair. "But naaahhh. I talked him out of it. I said the world needs that boy. I told him Blake and I used to sit at Ciro's and talk about how the world was comin' into a new era, people were comin' together. You could see it in the music, borders between rock and folk and soul and country disappearing. Borders between black folks and white folks disappearing, borders between countries bein' abolished. Wars strictly passe." Parsons climbed up to a rock, his wings stretching out, then folding back against his back. Somehow, Parsons reached behind him and detached them, as if he were throwing off a guitar strap, and leaned them against a joshua tree. Madison hadn't noticed before, but next to this tree there was an old barber's chair mounted to the rock. Gram sat in this, leaning back. "Saw a lot of shooting stars while sittin' in this chair, Blake. Some UFOs, too. Reckon that could have been the drugs?" He laughed. "So anyway, Blake, I made the argument that since I died young, you ought to have a chance to get old. And the Man bought it."
"You said someone was trying to kill me."
"yeah," said Parsons. "I did. I meant you. You are tryin' to kill you. And you got to stop. That gal Gina?"
"Yeah?"
"She loves you. Even though you let her down before, she still loves you. She'd be the best thing in the world for you if you gave her a chance. She's got that old revolutionary spirit, too, boy. Oh, hell, I know its hard to give up the honky tonks. So don't. Take her with you. You could use somebody to drive your drunk ass home." Parsons got up from the chair, rooted around in his wings, and found a bottle of Four Roses. He turned it up and guzzled dseveral inches of it, then handed it to Blake. "Damn," said Parsons," that is some rotgut shit." Parsons reattached the wings, snapped his guitar into the case, and said "that's it, brother. You won't see me no more in this life. But think about it...I believe you have found the Fun, don't you?"
Parsons rose on the light desert breeze like a curl of smoke that lifted and finally settled like a desert mist in the sky near the horizon.
Madison woke, and was not at all surprised to see a quart of Four Roses sitting on the night stand. He turned to see Gina stretching in the first act of waking. "It was from you, wasn't it?"
Groggy, she smiled and replied "what was from me?"
"The note. And the 5,000 dollars."
She sat up, shaking her hair back. "It was all the money I had. It was worth it though. Now you work for me."
"This I do for free," he said as he kissed her.
"Look", she said, "you've got to call that surgeon and return the poor man's car. He won't press charges. After all, you had post-operative delirium." A puzzled look crossed her features.
"Hey," she said, "where did the bottle come from?"
"An angel," he said. "An angel left it here."
Her eyes brightened, and she said "I've got an idea! Let's take that bottle and go down to the beach and have a nice long walk. We could skinny dip!"
He laughed. "We'd probably be arrested. Besides, I shouldn't get the cast wet."
She slapped his arm. "Don't be a sissy. We'll go skinny wading then." She jumped out of bed, pulling on her shorts. "Come on, Madison."
"Yes maam. Let the Fun begin."



The End