When Kittie and Dickerson were munching carry-out food, Kittie admitted that she had visited her aunt instead of being with him. The guy who inspired her to do so was the British guy with the bowler hat. Then she further told Dickerson that she was a member of the sororal organization “Order of the Eastern Star.” Dickerson was furious that she didn’t tell him about this sooner, and explained that the guy used to be described as a dangerous man.
“So you knew he was British because of a picture?” I asked, incredulously.
“No, but let me finish”, she continued, “truth be told, it wasn’t even the picture that jogged that particular memory, it was how he tipped that bowler of his”.
“Ok go on”, I said, most of the negative emotions I had held onto the previous day melting in a need to know what she knew about Bowler Hat.
“It was the way he held his fingers. Like he was flashing the ‘ok’ sign with his middle, ring, and pinkie fingers outstretched.”
“Yeah, I remember that”, I said, “thought it was kinda flaky at the time, but more in a 1930’s silent movie kind of flakiness”.
“No, it’s a lot more dangerous than that. Look at the “ok” sign for a minute. Did you know that once upon a time, it was thought to be more of the sign of the beast than the horned fist?”
The Horned Fist, by the way, is made by making a fist, and extending the index and pinkie fingers, making it look kinda like the horns of a bull or goat. It’s mostly seen today at Texas Longhorn games (for its connotations with a bull), and at heavy metal concerts (for its supposedly satanic origins). However, it originated in the cult of the Celtic god Cellanos, who was much-maligned by early Christians, to the point where his image was used as the image of Devil himself. Even today, the horned man with eleven feet is the image of the Prince of Darkness. Okay, history lesson over, back to the story.
“The 666 thing?” I responded.
“Yea, the way the three fingers and the ‘o,’ made with the thumb and index finger looks like three sixes stacked on top of each other and fanned out,” she went on. “666, instant sign of the the beast.”
“So you’re telling me, Nowler, that’s the Antichrist?” I responded, with just a chuckle in my voice. The tables were turned now, with me as the guy making the outlandish inquiries to provoke Kittie’s fountain of information. A piece of me found the irony delicious. Another piece was more in love with her at that moment than I’d ever been in my life.
To be continued