Grand Opening Sale

Doo Feelin's uvula juggled with exclamation. "Open the doors. I said, open the doors! Open them wide, wider! It's the grandest opening sale there ever was and there ever will be." A native aptly called Always on a Steady Beat, sang Doo, Doo, Doo Wop, while he flung open the windows of the Treasure Chest.

Doo Feelin Wopper tossed the gold key from palm to palm. The treasure is all mine and only I have the key! This is no Pandora's box. No, this is a real treasure in the truest salute of it. And for a price, he winked at Huge Helping Heart . . . come around, all my natural, native friends. There are so few of us left. But don't worry, my medicine is stronger. I have the key and the Treasure Chest is always open. Why, let's have a grand opening sale. Everything is free today, pay me later. Your credit is good, put away your money. Good doing business with ya. Doo Feelin let out the loudest Wopp the natives ever heard. They were happy that their medicine man's magic was so happy-hearty today. They knew their medicine man was the wisest man that ever lived, no bad magic had fallen on them since they had lived under his protection. His spells were very powerful but it was his love, they knew, that had no limits, and they learned of the power of his love. They learned that love/bliss is the naturalest state of their being.

Huge Helping Heart knew that none of the naturals needed anything; they had no need to buy anything from the Treasure Chest. None entered the store. They all sat by their medicine man, feeling his glow and ready to enjoy his service.

Huge Helping Heart knew she was witnessing a very important ceremony on this day, the day of the Grand Opening Sale. She had an intuition that Doo Feelin had something in mind, that his heart play was a calling to someone. Who? she wondered. It must be someone of great medicine. He is so excited today, like an expectant father waiting for news that his first son has been born, or a man hearing news that his beloved is finally free to come to him . . . waiting on the shore, scanning for any sight of her boat being carried in on the tide. There was an expectant thrill in the air—the wait would soon be over and the treasure would be revealed. Who would come to purchase, to claim the treasure?

The celebration lasted 'til every native was too tired to yell out any more galoops. They fell into a contented sleep. Doo Feelin tenderly covered Huge Helping Heart with his shawl. Although I didn't sell a dam thing, he thought, this was indeed the best grand opening there ever was. She'll be a coming around the mountain when she comes. The full moon is rising over Anticipation Point right now. Either we will lay together in an eternal sleep of benediction or we will dance and shower all the naturals, all the natives, with our juices of love making. Care to make a purchase, my fair lady?

Kat loaded her shotgun. I got to claim this land for my own purposes. This infestation of these rodent types . . . well, move on you varmints! Why did I meet up with that enlightened rodent, anyway? It seems like his whole kingdom has firmly nestled in my mountain womb. Varmints and vermin, that's my lot in life. I haven't been able to hit one of these buggers yet. These varmints are cocky. I'll probably have to blow up the whole mountain before one of them leaves. Or . . . the dharma rides this range, fellas . . . I'll have to train you all as my little army of rodent privates . . . march!

Kat pulled a few thousand weeds from her garden. This garden was really special, really magical, really dumb . . . as if I don't have enough work already, she thought. Besides my spy work for Doo Feelin and my eating work, my artistic birthing, trying to hold the dharma here with any means I can, I got this earth impulse. And these varmints are always using my garden as their four-star restaurant. I might as well call the garden, Le Cafe Varmints. Look at this guy—I'm standing three feet away from him with a shotgun in my hand, and he's munching down like it's brunch at the Holyday Inn. If I knew squirrel sign language I would probably recognize that he is signaling me for dessert. Baroom! Take that you varmint . . . yeah, right, missed again.

Kat heard a familiar sound overhead. A hawk was scanning for lunch and courting his mate. Within seconds she showed and they landed on the top of an old oak tree. Free meal, right here for you guys. They're nice and fattened up, too. Ah, spring, all this mating and frantic eating going on everywhere around me. Two lizards chased each other up the stucco side of her house. Have fun breeding . . . so that's what all those push ups were for! Don't worry fella, you're in great shape. I wonder if that tarantula is still using my hot water closet as her own private suite?

Kat stored her shotgun in her garage, picked up her mail and went in for lunch. She looked at her cheese sandwich and grazed through the mail. She usually threw the advertising away without even a glance, but today the words, Grand Opening Sale invited more notice. This is interesting, she thought, and read the flyer out loud.

G RA ND O P E NING S A L E! TODA Y A ND E VERY DA Y !

COME THE ONE OF ALL! THE TREASURE CHEST CONTAINS ALL THE GREATEST TREASURES IN THE WORLD. GIFTS FOR EVEN THE HARD TO PLEASE. GIFTS FOR THE WOMAN WHO HAS EVERYTHING. WE EVEN HAVE HARD TO GET, UNHEARD OF ITEMS . . . SO UNHEARD OF WE CAN'T EVEN MENTION THEM IN THIS FLYER. YOU GOT TO SEE 'UM TO BELIEVE 'UM!

IT'S THE GRANDEST OPENING SALE EVER! ONE DAY ONLY! EASY ACCESS, CONVENIENT LOCATION . . . ALL MAJOR DHARMA CARDS ACCEPTED. BRING THE LITTLE LADY DOWN! SHE'LL LOVE OUR FRIENDLY SALES CLERK.

What is this? Kat laughed. Maybe they got some kind of knock-out pesticide for varmints and their sidekick vermin. Ooooh, I got a feelin about this, could be the start of a great business. I must see . . . I have a lot of credit on my major master card. How do I get there, anyway?

Skyman tossed his flyer into the pile of mail trash. He threw all his advertising into his public relations composting, recyclable pile for later manure benefit. He never wasted a single thing. What comes around, stays around . . . just how to shift it so it will show probable good cause, instead of the usual bullshit effects . . . well, that was another skill of his. He skimmed through the rest of his mail and saw a letter addressed to him in familiar handwriting. It was from Kat. He always got a bit nervous, a little more than a bit nervous when the feline dropped an occasional letter at his doorstop. A strong case of stomach butterflies, shaky hands, cold sweat, was his usual reaction. Hey, there also was a happy dread, too. He held the letter in his hands for a few minutes, just feeling into it. Kat, what's up, he wondered.

Brave it, kid, he said to himself and tore the envelope open. It was a flyer, advertising a Grand Opening Sale at the Treasure Chest. This is peculiar, what are they selling? Where is this place? He looked through his pile of advertising refuse and discovered the same flyer in his compost. You're on, Kat, my love . . . I'll get there five minutes before you.

Doo Feelin Wopper finished his meal. Mighty tasty . . . corn muffins with strawberry cream cheese. I just never get tired of these things. Back to business. He checked his inventory sheet. Not one sale yet. These things take time. I got the finest merchandise in the world, just perfect for the customer with discriminating taste. Just one sale will put me over. She'll be coming around the mountain. What woman could resist a sale like this?

The Presence in the temple was getting bored. Where is he? I haven't seen him in days. He never leaves me unattended. There is dust all over my eight arms and the flowers by my lotus feet are dead. They are emitting a rancid smell that permeates my whole play house. Darling, where are you? The Presence jumped off her pedestal and paced the small confines of her temple. She opened her third eye wider but still she could only see the confines of her playhouse; the temple that he came to every day to play with her, to worship her.

What's this, where is my power of all-seeing? Is he playing with me in this way? He knows if I leave the temple I will be forced to play my divine nature in a human body. Surely he won't subject me to that. We have been having this same argument for months now. He doesn't understand, I just can't come down in that way. What is he doing? How dare he play with me in this way! There are two ways out of this. One is to take a human body, the other is to withdraw all my attention and take him back with me to the unmanifest realm. I'll leave and take you with me. Don't play with me like this, Doo Feelin Wopper.

Doo Feelin sat on a bench under the Grand Opening Sale sign that was draped over the front doors of his Treasure Chest, the temple of his lady. His arms were folded over his chest and he appeared to be in a deep state of wazein. His eyes were rolled up so tight that only the whites were seen. A wind stirred and blew away the flyer that had been resting on his lap. His body was humming. It was a high pitch, a frequency that no living creature could hear. If we all had the capability to listen in, we would hear in this hum the roar of a lion calling to his feline.