The Corn Starch Kid: A New Short Story by Pete

The Corn Starch Kid

                                  By Pete Schulte

He traveled a lot, got around. Always a new town or city, always on his own. He liked it that way. No one had any claims on him. His time was his own. At night he liked to go to bars. He didn't want anything fancy, but no dive bars either. Something in between would suit him fine.

He ducked into a place called Monty’s near the train station. It was cold and snowy outside so Monty’s would have to do. There were women there and that’s what he wanted. He drank gin and made small talk with the bartender. He waited until somebody came around. Somebody always came around. “What’s your name?” he asked above the loud country music when she came within earshot.

“Me?” she asked as she hovered near the bar. “Were you talking to me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I was going to buy you a drink but I wanted to get your name first.”

“Laverne’s the name,” she said. “What kind of drink you thinking of buying me?”

“Well, I’m having a gin and tonic. Would you like one as well?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Laverne.

Laverne had big hair and a big body. He liked them that way. He liked Laverne just fine. He liked her even more when she asked if he’d like to come home with her. Really, he thought, was there any doubt?

Laverne’s apartment was small but neat. If he ever stopped his rambling ways, this was a place he could see himself in. But now wasn't the time for such thoughts. Now was the time to get Laverne in bed. “You want me to make you another drink?” she asked him.

“No,” he replied. “I want to take you to your room. I want to undress you. I want to make love to you.”

“Wow, Speedy Gonzales in the flesh here. You sure don’t waste any time. A girl‘s got to put on her track suit with you around.”

“Or take it off,” he added.

Laverne shrugged. She took him by the hand and led him into her bedroom. True to his word, he immediately undressed Laverne and put her down on the bed. She pulled the sheets up to her chin and waited for him to join her. He then surprised her by pulling out of his pocket a baggie filled with white powder. “Hey, what’s that stuff?” asked Laverne. “Better not be cocaine because I don’t do no drugs.”

“It’s not cocaine,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Then what is it?”

“It’s corn starch.”

“Corn starch?” said Laverne. “What are you doing, baking a cake?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m going to rub it on your body. It’ll feel good.”

“Corn starch on me?” she said. “What am I, a lump of gravy?”

“No.”

“Corn starch on me?” she repeated. “What am I, a can of soup?”

“No.”

“Corn starch on me?“ she repeated yet again. “What am I, a custard dessert?”

“Look,” he said, “it washes off easy. I think you’ll like it.”

“I think I’ll be vacuuming for a week,” she said.

He ripped the sheet from her body. She covered herself as best she could. “No, you don’t need to do that,” he said. “It won’t hurt you at all.” He drizzled the cool corn starch from her neck to her knees. He rubbed it into her skin. She said to him, “It feels like if I roll around some I’ll turn into a giant burrito.”

“No, you’re fine,” he said to Laverne. “You feel good and I feel good.” He then undressed himself and got on top of her. Afterwards she said to him, “Well, you look like a powdered donut but that sure was fun. Say, what was your name again?”

“They call me the Corn Starch Kid. I don‘t go anywhere without my corn starch.”

“The Corn Starch Kid?” said Laverne. “Now I've heard everything. But hey, Corn Starch, let’s say we do it again, okay?”

The end…until the next town anyway. 

A Cosmic Short Story

It’s Just the Moon

                           By Pete Schulte

They were traveling back to earth in their shuttle, the Lunastrata. They had no passengers, only cargo. Tourist travel to the moon had dried up thanks to the opening of Mars. Moon novelty had worn off months ago. After the taking in the view and doing some shopping, there really wasn’t much to do up there. So they were coming home, for the last time, or at least until they could catch on with a Mars shuttle. One pilot didn’t mind so much. For the other though, it was devastating. You see, he loved the pilot sitting next to him. He loved their time on the moon, so far away from the headaches back on earth. Oh to be on the moon again, he thought, in their little room with a view of deep space, a billion stars shimmering, shooting stars they could almost reach out and catch.

Pilot Colten Rahway was married. Well, sort of. His wife Debbie left him after ’Seeing the Light.’ This was the new thing to do on earth. If you wanted permanent happiness, all you had to do was go into a room and stare at this special light for 30 minutes. That was it. Permanent happiness. Everyone was doing it. Which was fine for Debbie, but she said to Colten, “How can I be married to you or anyone else when I’m now married to the universe?”  The entire universe. How could he compete with that? So Debbie left him and everything else in her life. She was off painting the world with other happy people, painting one another or some other kind of hippy shit. Colten didn’t even know if he had a home to return to. These blissed out people just left everything behind.

Pilot Sarah Jackson was also married, happily enough except for the moon affair with Colten. She had a husband named Steve and two small children. Pilot Sarah Jackson thought, “We’re only halfway home. I’m going to give this pilot next to me the best backseat sex of his life, if only he’d knock off the sad sack routine.” Pilot Sarah Jackson did not tolerate melancholy. She was upbeat and excited about returning home.

“I wish we could turn around and go back,” said Colten.

“Are you kidding me?” replied Sarah. “There’s nothing left up there but some mining. It’s over for the moon.”

“But we had each other,” he said. “I guess that’s what I’ll really miss.”

“Remember what I told you, and what we agreed upon? When this is over, we’re over. You got it? I have babies at home. I have a husband.”

“But I love you,” said Colten. “I didn't want to love you but I was lonely. I wanted your companionship and yes, your sex. But here I am in the middle of outer space and I love you so much. You’re my kitten.”

“Look,” she replied, “if things were different. If things were different, but they’re not. They’re not different. There are certain facts about this life. We talked about this and you said you understood.”

“I know. I know.”

Sarah held his hand and then leaned over and kissed him. Then she took him into what constituted the backseat and rocked his world, or whatever world or in between world they were currently in. Afterwards, their bodies spent but still intertwined, Colten harkened back to the moon. Always back to the moon. “I love this view of the moon,” he’d said to Sarah after one of their couplings, she face down on the bed.

“What are you talking about?” she’d replied. “It’s just dull gray with ragged edges.”

“I was talking about your ass.”

“Oh, that’s funny,” she’d replied, but didn't laugh at all.

Colten considered that Debby always laughed at his jokes even when they weren't all that funny. But Debby left him. So Sarah never laughed. Perhaps he should be with someone more serious-minded? Sarah looked over at Colten, as if reading his mind. “You know, when I get home I’m going to See the Light. We all are, Steve and the kids.”

“No,” said Colten. “That’s awful. Don’t do it.”

“Why not?” she replied. “Don’t you want to be permanently happy? There are no side effects. There’s no downside.”

“I don’t trust it.”

“Come on, Colten. Just see the light. Then you wouldn’t be such a grumpy grump and a sippy sap.”

“I’m not a grumpy grump. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I mean, look at us. We’re stark naked in outer space. We just had cosmic sex. Nothing touches us.”

“It will,” she said, “when we get home.”

“I think though, when I get extremely happy I get careless, I make mistakes. As a pilot, you can’t make mistakes. You know that.”

“But I think,” said Sarah, “that if you’re both competent and confident you won’t make mistakes. And if I can be happy all the while…”

“It’s too good to be true.”

“Grumpy grump,” said Sarah.

After they landed safely at the space port in Denver, Colten was ready for his famous final scene with Sarah, his big good-bye, their last soft kiss. Then he saw big Steve and the kids bounding up the shuttle, their faces beaming, their arms extended, awaiting hugs from their mother, Pilot Sarah Jackson. All Colten could manage was a faint wave, which she returned, more faintly then his own.

Colten drove back to his home but somebody else was living there. He tried asking about Debby but the person at the door was making no sense at all. They sure were happy though. Colten was certain that they’d seen the light. He ended up checking into a hotel where he’d stay a few days to gather his thoughts, to plan his next move.

In the daylight hours he found a park that he liked, where he walked for miles and sat in the sun. He thought about Sarah and the domestic life she so easily returned to. He had nothing but a memory of her and that had to be enough. “When this is, we’re over,” she’d said to him and meant it. Colten turned his gaze to the mountains. He didn’t expect it but there it was, the moon. It was full and steady and hung high above the broad peaks. He gazed at it and couldn’t remove his eyes. He was entranced. How many times had be been to the moon? Yet still entranced. Another walker ambled up and took notice of Colten‘s fixation. “Hey, buddy, what are you lookin’ at? It’s just the moon.”

Colten snapped out of his reverie and regarded the man before him. “Yeah,” he said with a shrug, “it’s just the moon.”

The end.

**Coming soon…Colten goes to Mars.  

Black and White Paintings with a Splash of Color by Pete Schulte

 I use a lot of color in my paintings, so much so that every now and then I like to change it up and use as little color as possible. Color still seeps into these paintings, but at least it doesn't dominate.

Home Sweet Home is loosely based on a book I was reading at the time called 'Wild Surge of Guilty Passion' by Ron Hansen. It tells the story of Ruth Snyder, who murdered her husband with the help of her lover. They were both executed in 1928. 

The next painting I call 'Dream Sequence #4.' I like the larger male character the best. It appears as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. 

The final painting in this black and white series I call 'Night Fever.' I wanted to do an early autumn painting and this was the result. 

A Pulp Fiction Review by Pete

Photo Courtesy of Tattered Cover Book Store

Borderline

By Lawrence Block 

I love reading pulp fiction, especially when traveling. Things happen, usually right off the bat. Bad guys, often without hope for redemption, emerge from the shadows to do their worst. And average Joes of both sexes -- maybe looking for a little edgy excitement -- get in over their heads in a hurry. Borderline is one of the many novels and short stories I’ve read of late by Hard Case Crime, a publishing house that has brought back pulp fiction classics and the provocative covers that drew you into its sordid pages.

Borderline tells the story of four flawed characters and one sadistic serial killer along the hot and sweaty border towns of El Paso and Juarez. Tequila flows, gamblers gamble, and the sex is pretty steamy. This novel is not for the squeamish, however. The killer takes great pleasure in his slicing and dicing and the reader is spared no details. But if you are a fan of pulp fiction, or if you dare to take a peek, this Borderline had my blood pumping from the get-go to the end; it even had a few good bonus stories for you after the bloody finale.