Man on the Moon, Part Two

Diego parked the cab in front of a café and punched a number into his cell phone. I didn't understand a word of what he said. My high school Spanish teacher with big tits failed me.

There were two men sitting outside watching us. Normally I don't like to stare but my eyes locked with theirs' and there was no turning back.

"They are ready for you," Diego said. "Go inside and order to espressos. You will be escorted from there."

Carl paid him and we walked in the café. It was a dirty place but much nicer than some of the other places we have found ourselves in. The cigarette smoke smelled more expensive. We picked a table near a window and sat down.

"This is it," Carl said.

An overweight man with a curly mustache came to take our order.

"Two espressos, please."

"Si señor," said the overweight man and he motioned for us to follow him. He led us through a door in the back, down a dimly lit stairway.

A hand came out of the darkness and got Carl, and another got me. A rag went over my mouth and the sweetness of chloroform filled my lungs. The dreams began almost immediately.

Lilacs and whiskey in an extravagant hotel suite in Las Vegas. I was on top of the world but no matter how much I begged could not get room service to bring me a glass of whole milk.

Panic set in. I ran out into the desert but my legs melted in the heat. I became a puddle, stationary, looking up at the sky. A kitten sat next to me, purring, staring at me with a curiosity only a kitten could possess. It began to lap me up. I was the milk...