ked at the man. He dropped Bulgarkovs book, seeing his own face, ten years younger.
Thirty Four
The Ghost of Christmas Past
"Boo," said Spyders younger self. "I am the ghost of Christmas past. "
"How long you been rehearsing that one, you little shit?"
"I had it for a while, but I was saving it for a special occasion, grandpa. "
"At least I know what you are. "
"What?" asked the younger Spyder.
"Whats the line? An undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. "
"Theres more of gravy than of grave about you! Of course, we never read the book, did we?"
"Its just a story. Not really a book. And, actually, I have read it since then. But I still prefer the movie. "
"A Christmas Carol, nineteen thirty-eight, directed by Edwin L. Marin," said young Spyder.
"With Reginald Owen as Scrooge. "
"The only real movies are in black and white. Were secret snobs. "
"Im a snob. Youre just the memory of a lot of bad speed. Who told you I was here?"
"Mutual friends. "
"The Black Clerks? They send you to spy or just to fuck with me?"
"I do what I want, old man. When I heard you were around, I came by. I wanted to see how I turn out. "
"Whats the verdict, son?"
"Nice ink. But the rest of you is old and soft. "
"Thats what you always said to everyone over twenty-five," said Spyder, flashing back on using variations of the line on uncles, cousins, cops and counselors throughout his teens. "Its true, then. Yo
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