Category Archives: Scooter Memories

Jeremy Rosen Scooter Memories

Scooter Memories VI

The Thrilling Conclusion

Jeremy Rosen
by Jeremy-Joseph Rosen

There were four white walls to the room, each roughly ten feet by ten feet. Absentmindedly, Scooter attempted to figure out the room’s volume. Then, he remembered that Javier, like all mysterious characters returned from one’s childhood, had given him an assignment.

On the table were four items: a box of matches, a candle, some thumbtacks and a pencil. Before he left the room, Javier had given him instructions.

“Affix the candle to the wall with what I have given you,” Javier had stated “and then I will tell you why the lemons are purple. I know you want to know.”

Sitting on the rumpled bed, Scooter tried to focus his thoughts on the problem at hand. He had to affix a candle to the wall using only a box of matches, some thumbtacks and a pencil. That problem seemed inconsequential. What did seem important was the Register Girl at the K.K.K.

Something about her intrigued Scooter in a way that purple lemons, buttons and even the secret of life itself could not. With a flip of the switch, he turned on the Dictaphone and began to speak:

“I’ll never understand that which I need to understand. I’ll only ever understand that which I am meant to understand.”

For a moment he scratched a private area and began again.
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Jeremy Rosen Scooter Memories

Scooter Memories, Part V

by Jeremy-Joseph Rosen
Jeremy Rosen

Javier recognized Scooter right away. A brilliant smile, like none Scooter had ever seen on him, crossed Javier’s face. A cigarette dangled from his mouth and his jacket collar was turned up.

“Scooter,” exclaimed Javier.

Some strange force overcame them and they embraced. There was plenty of smiling to go around. Some hearty pats on the back and then a long look at each other. Scooter was curious about Javier.

He asked, “Where have you been?”

Javier laughed.

“Let’s go grab some coffee.”

So Scooter piled into Javier’s car and they were off. The drive was long and curiously quiet. Javier asked Scooter if there was a good shop they could go to and before he could think about the answer, Kalisotta Koffee Klatch was the place that spilled from his mouth.

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Jeremy Rosen Scooter Memories

Scooter Memories IV

An Ongoing Continuing Serialized Narrative

by Jeremy-Joseph Rosen

jeremy rosen

And there in a flash was Javier. Not the Javier he had known. No trowel-wielding child was he. In the three seconds during which Scooter saw Javier flash by, he knew exactly who the man in the bright red Yugo was. Older, more withdraw than he had been as a child, but it was Javier.

The car was parked in a lot adjoining the station Scooter’s express train had just shot through. In an instant Scooter came to life. The train would be making a stop at the next station down and he would get off, grab a train going the other direction and find Javier.
Since he had burned down the corn stalk, no one had seen him. There one day, not there that same day. While he may have disappeared, Javier’s influence lasted considerably longer.

One year after discovering the growing palm tree in the South grove, Scooter had noticed another odd thing. He had passed by it once or twice, but this time he really noticed. The experimental lemon bush. The lemons had changed to limes!
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Scooter Memories Scott Birdseye

Scooter Memories Part III

by Jeremy-Joseph Rosen
jeremy rosen
Jeremy-Joseph Rosen is an author, ingenue,
rabble-rouser and roust-a-bout.

Scooter was asleep on a train. He was in that half somnambulant state, the one caused by any type of close-quarter travel. The largest portion of the previous evening had been spent nursing one beer bottle, one cigarette after another and attempting to trace chains of facts through his mind. This was not an exercise he participated in often, but thinking of the East somehow brought this conscious-subconscious game out into the open.
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Scooter Memories Scott Birdseye

Scooter Memories Part II

by Jeremy-Joseph Rosen
jeremy rosen
Jeremy-Joseph Rosen is an author, ingenue,
rabble-rouser and roust-a-bout.

When Scooter was a child, he was a collector, as most children have been throughout the span of human recollection. You probably collected something as a child; be it bottle caps, cards relating to baseball, insects of various genera and species, building block sets mixed up in large bags, coins or stamps actually collected by numismatic or philatelic grandparents, recorded works of music, toy train sets (though this may be considered its own hobby), stuffed animals, comic books or rocks.
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