STINKY PETE AND THE CLOAK

I woke in terror and flurry from drinking an entire bottle of 4 dollar wine in half an hour and smoking forty cigarettes the night before. I blinked, thought I had to go to work, passed out, woke up, scratched my head, then sat staring at the ceiling wondering who I was.

I need to make a fancy roman cloak and stop sleeping in this filthy bed I thought. Rather than make the bed I’ll just make a cloak and use it to sleep on the floor. It’s cold so it’s got to warm, and I’ll need lining… nah I want it rough; really tough and scratchy – I want to teach myself a lesson.

While I was trying to figure out how to buy the materials and looking them up online some bastard knocked at the door. It was Stinky Pete. He’s always coming over and asking about this or that. Bothering me. He likes to go to the shops and fill up a bag of groceries and at the self service registers swipe through one item, pay for it with CASH and then walk off without paying for anything but a square of butter or something. He’s not really stinky though; just kind of a brat.

“I’ve got to go get some fabric Petey”

“Oh! Oh! Can I come too! Please!”

“Yeah sure, why not”

So we went up the shops and that. The sky was looking down on us like it was gunna get unkind in an hour or two. I looked at fabrics at the Linen store. Petey was touching them too.

“Ohhhhh” you could put this on the inside of the cloak.

“No, it has to be rough”

“Ok”

Stinky Pete kept looking at the fabrics. “What about this colour? ROYAL BLUE!” He smiled

“Nah, I want it to be the colour of death”

“What’s that colour”

I looked at him and wondered what that colour was. Bones are white, dirt is brown, people around here wear black to funerals but that’s more about mourning.

“Look, I dunno Petey, I’ll know it when I sees it”.

“Ok.”

I picked up some white fabric, hard, like a potato sack but undied. Yep, this’ll do I thought. And it’s only TWO BUCKS per square metre. FOUR bucks total. Nice!

Petey piped up “can you buy me this blue fabric so I can have one too?”

“Yes Petey”. I mean, with prices like that why wouldn’t I want some disciples. Royalty or not.

“Can I hold the bag?”

“Yes, Petey”

As we walked out of the shop Petey was holding the bag and he took off. Just ran right off. Gone. Damn, beaten again by Petey the theif, I thought; and went home.

*

The next day, the same thing as the morning before. Eyes. Sick feeling. Stupid bed: no cloak, still. I looked in the mirror at the red wine stains on my teeth and thought, that ain’t me. This mirror lies to me every damn morning.

There was bashing at the door.

“What the F***! WHO IS IT”

The knocking continued. I opened the door.

There was Petey. He actually stank this time.

“I’ve got to tell you something”

“What is it now?” Then I lifted my head “Wait, where the hell is my fabric?”

“I’ll get to that”

“Go away”

“No, no, I’ve got tell you” Petey had the white fabric behind his back but I could see it poking out between his hip and the crook of his elbow.

“Petey, not now, I’ve got a cloak to make, do you still have yours at least?”

He held up a cloak. White, and dirty as hell. Covered in mud and twigs and pieces of glass.

“What the hell have you been up to Petey?”

“Well, when I ran off I was tumbling through the streets. It got cold and started raining”

“Yeah I know, I walked through it on the way home too”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Petey got excited “Then I ran into that lady at the dry cleaners.

“Who? S…….?

“Yeah, she liked the fabrics!”

“Yeah I bet she did”

“Yeah so she said she’d help me make a Royal Robe! Just like the one you were going to make!”

“Yeah? where is it? And I don’t suppose you’ll tell me how to make mine now that you’ve brought it back in an even better condition that you left with”

“No, no, you don’t understand” said Petey. He still stank.

“Look Petey, you stink”

“Yeah I slept in the park”

“Was the robe warm?”

“No”.

I sat down on the couch and he threw the cloak over himself like a Royal Emperor and looked to the sky. I saw flashes of blue underneath.

“See, now look at this!”

“Yeah, you’ve stolen both of my cloaks now.”

“But, you, you bought one for me?”

“Yes, I suppose I did”… “and you’ve sewn them both together”

“No, the drycleaner did that”

“For free?”

“Yep!!!” Petey smiled “It’s for you!” he smiled a big weird grin. I never understood what Petey was thinking.

“It’s your cloak! I had the death lined on the inside with this nice blue stuff so it won’t itch you”

“But Petey” I stopped myself. “Pete, Petey, thank you.” and I took the cloak. It was nice inside and rough on the outside.

I told Petey to have a shower.

“No, no!” cried Pete, I’ve got other things to do and then he left. Out the door and gone. SWOOOSH. until he bashes down my door again trying to ask me something or other; or tell me about some quest he’s been on.

I like Pete.