Experiment Farm

Blood Orange, Onion, Jalapeño Trout

2011-02-10T12:29:00.000-08:00

2 whole trout (gutted and boned)
1 blood orange (or other citrus)
1 jalapeño pepper
1/2 an onion
olive oil
salt & pepper

Ingredient Prep
Preheat the oven to 450.
Rip off a piece of tin foil for each piece of fish. Make it about 3 inches or so longer than the fish.
Halve the blood orange and slice it.
Chop the onion.
Dice the jalapeño. Before dicing it, remove seeds to control the level of hotness. (I removed nearly all of them. I kept maybe 7.)

Assembly
Smear some olive oil on each piece of foil (or spray it with an olive oil cooking spray).
Plop a fish down in the center and open it up (scales down, meat up).
Drizzle olive oil over the fish.
Sprinkle with salt and pepper. I used sea salt.
Layer blood orange slices, onion, and jalapeño on one side of each fish.
Flip the other side of the fish over the stuffing.
Close up the tin foil, and seal it nicely.

Bake
For about 20 minutes or until the fish flakes easily with a fork.

The fish will pick up a lot of flavor from the onions and the jalapeño. Mine had just the right amount of heat, subtle and at the end but not overpowering. Again, adjust the amount of seeds to suit your heat tolerance.

Serves about 2.

Apartment 13

2010-10-31T20:24:00.000-07:00

“Thank you so much Mrs. Berry.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. It’s not a bother at all, Muriel. Gabriel’s such a dear, I never mind watching him.”
The baby smiled and cooed as Mrs. Berry took him in her arms.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mrs. Berry. I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.”
“Take your time dear. I could watch him forever.”

**

“Don’t I know you?”
Muriel looked out from behind her compact at the receptionist. He was wearing a suit. She should have dressed nicer.
“Excuse me?”
“You live in my building. Mary… Marion… Muriel! Muriel in the attic apartment, 13.”
“13A, yes. You are… I’m sorry I don’t…”
“I’m Tom, from 4B.”
“Ah…”
“You’re the one with the kid.”
“Yes.”
“Wow. What are the odds?”
“Yeah, what are the odds?”
Muriel went back to her compact and the receptionist, after a moment, to his computer.
“It’s got to be hard.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s got to be hard. The single mom thing and all.” The receptionist kicked himself under the table.
“Yeah.”
“Especially if you don’t have a job. I bet it’s really hard to make ends meet to begin with…” He couldn’t believe he was still talking. He was messing this up like always. “and then to have to pay a babysitter just so you can go to job interview when you have no guarantee that you’ll get the job to get the money to pay the babysitter. It’s just… got to be… hard.”
“Yeah.”
The receptionist clenched his toes into fists.
“I don’t,” continued Muriel, “I actually don’t pay for a babysitter. Mrs. Berry watches her.”
“Ah,” the receptionist glanced back at his computer. “Mrs. Berry? She a friend?”
“She lives in 13B.”
“Ah, 13B.” The receptionist answered the phone. When he was done, he looked up. “I didn’t know there was a 13B.”
“Um… Yes. It’s just up the little stairs and around the corner.”
“Ah.” He went back to his work. “I just thought you were the top apartment. Being in the attic and all.”
“No. there’s another one.”
“Ah.”

**

Muriel pulled into her parking space next to the dumpster, locked the car, and walked around to the front of the house in the dark. In the dim porch light, she slid her mail key into her box and opened it. She closed it again. Bills. As she was about to unlock the front door she glanced back at the long row of shiny metal mailboxes. They ended at 13. She wondered how Mrs. Berry gets her mail.

Halfway up the stairs to the attic, a blur of pink nearly ran her over.

“Betsy!” yelled a balding man, “Don’t run on the stairs.”
“I’m sorry.” Betsy said to Muriel.
“That’s ok.”
“Please excuse her,” said the man. “I only get her two weeks a year, and she thinks the stairs are her own private jungle gym.”
“That’s all right.”
“Have a nice night!” They hurried down the stairs. “Oh!” from the landing below “If you need a babysitter while Betsy’s visiting. Let me know. She’s very eager.”
“Ok, but Mrs. Berry usually watches her for me.”
“Oh, Mrs. Berry?”
“From 13B.”
“Oh.” He made a face and continued down. That’s when the doubt started forming in the back of her mind. She pushed it away as ridiculous.
“What’s all the ruckus?” A nose and eyes peaked out from behind the door of 7A.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just talking to Mr...”
“Don’t you talk about Mrs. Berry when I’m around. Her dog used to bark all day long. Made an awful racket.”
“I didn’t think the building allowed pets.”
“It doesn’t. Not anymore. Thank goodness.”
“So after Mrs. Berry’s dog died they stopped…”
“Oh, I don’t know if that dog died. I don’t care.” The door slammed.

The dog must’ve died. Still she hurried up the stairs faster now, not entirely sure what she was afraid of.

Two more floors up and the door of 12B was open. As she hurried past, a woman came out.
“Oh, you must be Muriel, in 13.”
“13A, yes.”
A voice bellowed from inside. “Who are you talking to, Agnes?”
“The woman from 13!”
“Why are you talking to her.”
“Because she went by and we haven’t met her yet!”
“Aw, come back to-“
“I’ll come back-“
“come back-“
“I’m sorry dear. Don’t mind him. Say, if you ever need someone to watch the little one, I’m always happy to have a baby around.”
“That’s Ok. Mrs. Berry watches her for me.”
“What did you just say?”
Muriel’s heart was now beating through her chest.
“Mrs. Berry watches her for me, from 13B.”
“There is no 13B honey.”
“Don’t be silly, it’s just around-“ Muriel dug her fingernails into her palms.
“And Mrs. Berry died 9 years ago, in 13, in your apartment. Where are you going!?”

Muriel ran up the stairs, chasing after her beating heart. Her door, her door that she could swear said 13A this morning, just said 13 tonight. “No!”

She fumbled with her keys, unlocked the door and flew through to her empty apartment.

Really Good Chili

2010-05-13T21:44:00.000-07:00

1 Hot Italian Sausage (I used a Hot Chicken Italian Sausage), sliced
1 Sweet Italian Sausage (I used a Salisicca), sliced
½ medium yellow onion, chunked
1-2 cloves of garlic, diced
½ teaspoon crushed ginger
½ cup white wine

I just sliced my sausage and left the casing’s on, but you could remove them from the casings if you want. Put all of the above (except the wine) in a pan with a little oil and brown the sausage. Add the wine to deglaze the pan and put it all in a stock pot.

1 box chopped tomatoes, 750 g
1 can black beans
1 small zucchini, sliced
3 small carrots, sliced thick
1 stalk of celery, sliced
¼ to ½ inch slice of fresh ginger, chopped

Add all of the above and give it a good stir.

2 heaping teaspoons of ground chocolate
1 heaping teaspoon chili powder
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
½ teaspoon salt
Dash of celery salt

Season with the above, adjusting the amounts to taste. All these amounts are approximations anyway. Let it simmer for 30 minutes or more.

Orange pepper, chopped
Yellow tomato, diced
Red tomato, diced
Red onion, diced
Sour cream
Blue cheese
Brown rice (I cooked 1 cup of dry brown rice for 4 servings)

Serve it over brown rice using the orange pepper, tomatoes, and red onion as a garnish. Add a little sour cream and a scoop or two of blue cheese. Mix it up, and enjoy.

Makes about 4 servings.

Originally linked to from Really Good Chili on Experiment Farm.

Sam

2010-03-31T20:19:00.001-07:00

Sam was a regular kid. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe that should have been my first clue: that he was so regular.

Now I don’t mean that he went to the bathroom like clockwork or anything, which is of course what you’re all thinking. This isn’t that kind of story.

By regular, I mean normal. He was a normal kid. He didn’t like baseball. He knew the Harry Potter books by heart. He complained about doing his homework. He was kind of… boring.

Every Saturday night at 8, the door knocks. It’s Sam. He comes over to watch his Harry Potter DVD on my big screen and I go down the hall to his place to watch a “grown up” movie with his mom. We watch a little of some incomprehensible film, get bored, and screw. It’s convenient, for both of us.

Afterwards, I go back to my place and find Sam asleep on the sofa. I wake him up and we watch Saturday Night Live for a while. He falls asleep. I carry him back down the hall to his mother.

This goes on for several months. Everybody’s happy.

Until I meet Peggy. She’s a high school history teacher and coaches the softball team. We meet at a baseball game and hit it off immediately. In less than a week, we’re in love. When it comes around to the next Saturday, we make plans.

I get back home that night and the door is unlocked. Sam’s inside asleep in front of the TV. I quietly pick him up and carry him home.

The next day I drop by to tell his mom I’ve met someone and ask for my key back. She cries a lot, which I’m not expecting. It’s good that it’s ending now and after about an hour or so of yelling and crying, she starts to see it that way too. She insists she doesn’t have a key and neither does Sam.

Thursday’s Halloween. I get home from work and as I’m passing by their door, Sam comes out all decked out as Harry Potter, complete with robes and wand.

“You make a great wizard”

“You hurt my mom.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were an ass to my mom.”

I’d never heard Sam swear before, but just then his mom comes out and they hurry off to their Halloween party.

Peggy and I go to Napa the next weekend. When I get home Sunday night, I can tell Sam’s been over. Things have been moved, and my gold fish are dead. Peggy assures me I’m being paranoid and buys me new fish. I have my locks changed.

Saturday rolls around again. This time Peggy and I go see a play and I sleep over at her place. When I get home Sunday, my paper’s not on my doormat as usual. I unlock my door, step inside, and find my paper… torn to shreds and thrown all over my apartment. And everywhere, neatly arranged on the floor and stuck to the walls and ceiling, cut from the letters in the paper, is the word “ass”.

Sam’s mother thinks I’m insane. He’s been asleep in his room all morning. It couldn’t be him.

I have a chain installed on my door.

Saturday. Peggy picks me up at 7 and we head out to dinner. Half way to the restaurant, she drops me off and goes home. I circle back and climb up the fire-escape in through my bedroom window which I’d left open.

I sit on my sofa in the dark and watch the clock.

7:58, 7:59, 8 o’clock. Knock Knock.

I don’t answer.

“Alohamora” comes a voice from outside. The door flings open and Sam steps into the darkness.

“Gotcha!” I yell as I throw on the light. “How…” Sam’s standing there in his Harry Potter costume. He doesn’t look regular anymore. He looks… mad.

“Flipendo esnarata!” he says and I’m thrown back onto the sofa. Immediately the flowered pattern sprouts out of the fabric, grows around me, and pins me down.

“You shouldn’t have hurt my mom”.

“You’re not a real wizard”

“Yes, I am! Silly Muggles. Harry Potter’s not fiction. Now I’m going to fix it so you don’t hurt anyone again, like you hurt my mom.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your mom. We weren’t serious.”

“You were sleeping with her. You were going to marry her.”

“I was never…”

“Impedimenta!” and I can’t speak. I can’t move.

“I’ve been practicing the Killing Curse. It worked on your gold fish. Now I’m going to try it on you.” He raises his wand and shouts “Avada Ked-”

The lights go out. A noise from somewhere. A struggle. The tangle of flowers holding me down disappear. I’m thrown off the sofa, hit my head. I … I black out.

“That was a great meal.” I’m walking down Market Street with Peggy. We’re stuffed with food and laughing about…

“Wasn’t, Didn’t I stay home…”

“When”

“Tonight”

“Don’t be silly. Why would you have done that?”

“To try and catch Sam…”

“Sam who?”

“Sam… I don’t know”

“Here, have a mint” She hands me an altoid and as she puts the tin back in her purse, I see… No, it must be a pointer or something.

I’m sorry, what was I saying?

Halloween Everyday

2009-10-25T16:16:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween!

Better late than never, I suppose, but here's this year's Halloween story. This is the third year in a row I've written a little scarey story on Halloween and posted it. I hope you like it!

Halloween Everyday
by Alan Goy

Timothy skipped along in his Darth Vader costume, trying not to trip on the cape. He’d done that last year, tripped on his cape. Only last year he’d been a vampire, but he tripped on his cape and all his candy went flying. He cried. But now he was six and he didn’t cry anymore.

“Timothy!” his mom yelled. “Don’t get too far ahead.” He stopped skipping and looked over his shoulder at his mom dressed as a witch. He’d wanted her to go as Princess Lea, but she’d gone as Princess Lea last year. She didn’t want to go as the same thing two years in a row, but that’s why he chose Darth Vader this year was because she’d gone as Princess Lea last year. Mom’s could be stupid.

He went from house to house hauling in the loot glomming onto a group of kids traveling at about the same rate as him. He didn’t know them, or at least he didn’t think he did. There was a Storm Trooper, a Princess, a Spiderman, a Harry Potter, a… oh, he got a whole box of Lemonheads. Then up the steps to the Tennis Ball Lady. She gave Tennis Balls. They were the best. He could throw it against the garage and try to catch it when it came back.

“Timothy!”

He stopped. He wished she’d keep up. This was the best day of the year. His favorite day, even more favorite than Christmas because you got to dress up. He wished it could be Halloween everyday. Sweet Tarts. Starburst. Licorice. Lollypops! Up stairs. “Trick or Treat”. Tootsie rolls. “Thank you.” Downstairs. Follow the Storm Trooper and the Mummy. Up stairs. Down stairs. Candy. Princess. Different Princess. Getting cold. Did his mom bring his jacket?

“Mom?”

The wind blew a patch of leaves past him. Where was mom? He flipped up his mask for a better look. Some witches walked by him laughing. No mom. He started walking back the way he’d come. Then he ran. Around one corner. Around the next. Where was she? Oh, look chocolate bars. A Goblin, a Vampire, a Skeleton. Black Licorice, yuck! Upstairs. Downstairs. “Thank you.”

Wait, where’s mom? “Mom? Mom!”

“You don’t know where your mom is?” said the Goblin.

“No.” Timothy suddenly felt very cold and very tired.

“Come with us, we’ll help you find her,” said the Vampire.

They walked and walked around corners and corners as the dark got darker and colder. They stopped. Timothy and the Goblin, the Vampire, and the Skeleton.

“Where is she?”

“She’s gone,” said the Goblin.

“She’s left you,” said the Vampire.

“She’s never coming back,” they all said at once.

“What?” Timothy felt so cold. He shivered. He needed to go potty. His mom had made him go before they left, but he needed to go again. Where was his mom? He needed her. He didn’t like these boys. Were they boys? Girls wouldn’t dress like that. Girls wouldn’t scare him. “Stop scaring me.”

The walked closer. Taller than him. Looking down at him. The tree rustled. No one else was around.

“You’re ours now,” said the Skeleton.

“You’re ours now to do with as we please,” said the Vampire baring his teeth.

“Stop scaring me. Stop scaring me. Stop scaring me. Stop!” he said trying hard not to cry. I’m 6. I don’t cry.

They stopped, surrounding him. The wind blew cold.

“You’re lost on Halloween,” the Skeleton finally said. “You’re lost on Halloween. Just like us. When the wind blows the leaves past and the day ends tomorrow will be Halloween again.”

“Next year,” added the Goblin.

“And you’ll walk with us and we’ll get candy and we’ll find another boy, lost to join us,” said the Skeleton smiling. “And soon the costume just becomes part of who you are. It’s not a mask anymore. It’s not face paint. It’s who you are. You are a Vampire, or a Goblin, or a Skeleton, or a movie villain. Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt.” The pushed his face down close to Timothy’s and suddenly what had looked like a painted on skull face now looked like a real skull. “It’s wonderful fun. It’s Halloween every day.”

“I don’t want it to be Halloween every day,” Timothy stammered trying hard not to pee.

“Don’t you?”

“No. I want my mom.”

“Well, she isn’t here.”

“No!” He kicked the Skeleton in the shin and ran. He heard them chasing him. Laughing at him. Chanting his name.

“Timothy. Timothy.”

“You can’t escape us!”

“You’ll be alone and lost if you don’t join us!”

“Timothy. Timothy.”

He ran. He tripped on his cape and fell down on the cement side walk, his bag of candy flying away, spilling everywhere, deep stinging scrapes opening on his hands. Don’t cry. He rolled over and screamed.

“Timothy! There you are. I’ve been worried sick.” His mom reached down and picked him up. He bit her shoulder and looked down the empty street. “Ouch. Stop biting. And don’t run off again. See why I tell you to stay close.”

Timothy just stared down the street, holding on to his mom. He thought, in the distance, he could still hear them shouting his name. There. The skeleton. Three dark shadows, moving away. The wind blowing the leaves.

Johnny's Road

2009-10-25T16:14:00.001-07:00

“'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark”
-Titus Andronicus II, iii.

Johnny squirmed to keep his seatbelt from pressing down on his bladder. He couldn’t pee out the window. He couldn’t pee in the backseat, but he really really had to pee. With no other choice, he said quietly “I have to go to the bathroom.”

His parents didn’t hear him. Johnny cleared his throat and spoke up a little louder. “Erm… Excuse me…” He raised his voice above the din of the road, “Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom.”

His mom let out a yelp. His dad turned quickly from the road to search for the source of the sound.

“Um, ok,” his mom said looking back at him. “We’ll pull off at the next rest stop.”

“We have to get there by 3pm to pick up the keys,” said his dad.

“I know but he has to use the bathroom.”

His dad tried to whisper, “Why is he even here?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered back.

A few miles later Johnny saw a rest stop fly past. “Erm… Excuse me, but I really need to use the bathroom.”

He didn’t know exactly where they were going. The sounds of his dad packing the car woke Johnny up that morning. His dad always swore a lot packing the car. His mom always wanted to bring too much stuff, or she forgot to pack his dad’s underwear or hair-gro shampoo. Johnny had to act fast. He leapt out of bed, threw on some clothes, and grabbed his Crazy-Bob backpack. He always had it packed with a few days’ essentials for just these sorts of emergencies. He ran downstairs to the car and jumped in just before it pulled out of the driveway.

A few hours later they stopped for lunch at a truck stop restaurant. As usual, his parents got a table for two. Johnny sat at the counter for a while eating sugar packets before giving up and heading for the vending machines. He forced down a plastic tasting egg sandwich and followed it with a Snickers and three cans of lemon-lime soda just to get the taste out of his mouth. Just as he was about to head to the bathroom, he saw his parents coming out of the restaurant.

They headed straight back to the car. Not wanting to get left behind, Johnny followed. They’d have to go to the bathroom eventually, he figured.

But they hadn’t.

Now with the three cans of soda straining to get out of him, Johnny vowed to buy mints next time. He tried to distract himself by looking out the window and counting things: out-of-state plates, yellow trucks, big black birds that flew along the highway. Finally when he couldn’t take it anymore, he spoke up.

“Erm… I was really serious. I still… I really really need to go to the bathroom,” Johnny said.

“There isn’t another exit for a while. Just hold it,” said his dad.

“I really have to go. Now!”

“Just pull over. He can go in the bushes,” said his mom.

The shoulder gravel hadn’t even settled before Johnny was out the door and into the brush. The thick weeds were taller than him providing suitable privacy for his much anticipated pee. It was one of the longest and most satisfying he’d ever experienced which perhaps contributed to his parents forgetting why they had stopped.

“Don’t you have to go?”

“No, I thought you had to go.”

As Johnny stood there zipping up, he heard the unmistakable sound of the car pulling away. He scampered back up out of the brush and stared at the car disappearing into the distance. Then he said, for the first time in his life, a word his dad had said a lot that morning.

-

“Stupid!” Johnny kicked the rocks and sat down. “Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.” He looked around at the short stretch of thick weeds that separated the highway from the forest. “I need… I should add an empty milk carton to my emergency pack.” By then the day was deep into the afternoon and the pavement was hot from its long day in the sun. Johnny could feel it through the seat of his jeans. He picked up a stone and skipped it onto the roadway.

That’s when he noticed the big black bird staring at him from the side of the road. In the sun, its feathers shined green or sometimes blue and underneath they seemed so black they were almost purple. Amazingly colorful for a plain black bird, thought Johnny.

“What are you looking at?” Johnny said skipping a stone towards the bird. It let out a sound and flapped its wings, but it didn’t fly away. It just stood there looking at him. It was definitely looking at him with its two black eyes. It made another noise from deep in its throat and then another. They sounded like gronks or cronks or something.

“My parent’s will come back. You’ll see. They’ll notice… They’ll realize they left me behind and they’ll panic. They’ll race back and um… buy me a special dinner with ice cream. You’ll see. They’ll hug me tight and promise never to forget me again, and this time they won’t.” He squinted at the horizon trying to find his parent’s car coming back. “My dad… He wouldn’t leave me.”

The bird took a few steps closer and Johnny realized for the first time just how big it was. As Johnny sat, they were almost at eye level. Johnny’s stomach tightened as the big black bird’s eyes kept staring at him. No one, not a person, not a bird, not even one of his stuffed animals had ever looked at him that long or that intently. Johnny stared back into the bird’s eyes. They were so dark they seemed more like holes in the bird’s head. They just disappeared into blackness.

Was it going to bite him? Did it think he was already dead?

It made another cronking sound, this time louder and longer and closer to Johnny’s ears.

“What?! Do you want me to go? I don’t have any place to go.”

The bird stretch its head towards Johnny and yelled. Then with a great swoosh of its wings, the bird took to the air.

“Wait! Come back. Don’t leave.” Johnny shouted as the bird flew back into the trees and vanished. The bird at least had looked at him. Now he was alone.

-

Johnny stood up and started walking down the highway. Every now and then a car or truck would drive by, but they never saw him. Instead they just kicked up dust and dirt, and he would cough until his dry throat ached.

Johnny could feel his head getting sun brunt. He needed to get into the shade and find some water, but he didn’t want to leave the road in case someone finally saw him, or in case his parents came back for him. Maybe he could walk to the next exit. He’d read a true story once about a woman who survived a plane crash and walked through a jungle for 10 days before she was found. If she could do that, he could survive along a highway. Of course she’d been walking along a stream, and people could see her. His parents would come back soon. They had to.

A few more cars went by. Johnny tried turning to look at them as they passed. He even waved a little. Soon he’d have to head into the trees to find some water. He had no choice. But the trees were tall and dark, and the weeds between him and them were thick and prickly.

There might be poison ivy. There might be wolves. Or worse yet, there might be squirrels like the ones that hissed at him from the branches outside his bedroom. They were mean. Of course there might also be a stream or a house or a store, or there might be nothing at all, just an endless forest that he’d never walk out of.

A loud cronking sound stirred Johnny from his trance. He had been starring off into the trees. Cronk!

Suddenly out of the trees flapped a large black bird with something in its feet. The bird seemed to hover for a second before dropping its cargo and landing.

Cronk.

The bird looked at Johnny. It was the same bird, he thought. It must be. It had the same stare and the same black eyes.

The bird cronked again, then bent down its head and used nudged forward what it had brought. It rolled up to Johnny’s feet. He looked down. It was a bottle of water.

-

Johnny gulped down the entire bottle and then bent over feeling a little sick. “Thank you.” Johnny looked at the bird. “You um… look like the crows that eat our garbage, but you’re bigger. And you’re feathers make your tail different. See I once read… I read this book once while Mrs. McQueen was teaching fractions. I’d already read about fractions. But um… it was a whole book about birds. You look like a raven bird. Thank you. Thank you for the water, raven bird.”

The raven cronked as if to say “You’re welcome”.

For the next hour or so Johnny kept walking down the road with the raven. Sometimes it flew in tight circles around him. Sometimes it walked along with him. But it hardly ever took its eyes off Johnny.

“I’m gonna be a tax attorney when I grow up, like my dad. I’ve already started… I read IRS Forms sometimes and fill them in. I mean not with real figures or anything. I’m just making up the numbers, but dad… He says sometimes he has to do that anyway so it’s good practice. Making up the numbers. He works for one of the top 5 biggest companies in the country! Probably the world even. I think… I know he’s gonna get me a job there when I’m older. I’ll have to start small and work my way up just like him. Just like he did, but it’ll be worth it.”

Cronk.

“I’ll have a nice house… the biggest house. And a yard and a puppy and um… a wife. I’ll make her grilled cheese and bacon sandwiches. We’ll eat them on the porch and watch the lightning bugs. Man I could use a grilled cheese.” His empty stomach made a loud growl. “I’d even eat another one of those egg sandwiches if I had one.”

Cronk.

“Thanks for the water again. That was nice of you raven bird. What’s your name? Oh um… you can’t talk. I should give you a name. I mean, I’m sure you have one already, but I need to give you an English name since I don’t speak bird. I wonder, are you a boy or a girl? I um… I read a story about a raven once. I could call you Poe. That would work either way. If you’re a boy bird or a girl bird. What do you think, Poe?”

Cronk.

Johnny stopped and looked down the long road ahead. “They’re not coming back are they? Why aren’t they coming back? I’m their son. They should come back for me, but they’re not, are they Poe?... Poe?” He turned all around and just saw a flutter of wings as the raven flew back into the trees. “Poe! Come back, Poe! I can call you something else if you don’t like Poe. Poe!”

Tears made mud from the dust on his cheeks. His parents had left him. They’d finally left him and forgotten about him completely, and now the raven had left him too. He kicked at the gravel then sat down on his butt and buried his head in his hands.

-

Johnny was dreaming. He knew this because in his dream his parents were not only looking directly at him and talking to him, but they were laughing and splitting the largest chocolate fudge sundae Johnny had ever seen. The waitress had needed a crane to put it on the table. But as he slurped down a spoonful of creamy strawberry ice cream smothered in thick fudge, something kept poking him on the knee. It wouldn’t stop.

“What? I’m having a good dream,” he said through his slumber.

Cronk.

Johnny opened his eyes wide. “Poe! Poe you came back!”

Cronk.

Johnny wanted to hug the bird but also didn’t want it to fly away.

Cronk.

Poe nudged a small familiar paper bag towards Johnny. Johnny knew that bag! It was a Hamburger Mary’s bag.

“How?!” Johnny grabbed it and opened it. A hamburger, small fries, and a coke. “A Mary Classic Combo!” He tore the wrapper off the burger and took a bite. “Thunk yu. Thunk yu oh uch,” he said with his mouth full.

Cronk. The bird flapped its wings in approval.

“You came back. You came back for me,” Johnny said with a smile.

-

The wind had started to pickup, swirling the dust around Johnny in gusts as he walked. He seemed no closer to an exit or civilization. He’d stopped looking at the approaching cars. “I don’t know what else to tell you Poe. I don’t know why they never paid any attention to me, or why they forget about me all the time. It’s just always been that way. No adults ever seem to notice me. I mean, kids don’t much either. It is nice to talk to you though. You’re a great listener. Erm… sometimes I talk to Momo. Momo’s a stuffed bunny, but he never seems to really listen to me like you do.”

Cronk.

“You’re the best Poe. I wish you were my dad. I mean, like the bird version of my dad. You wouldn’t leave me. You won’t leave me will you? I mean, not forever. You’ll always come back, right?”

Cronk.

“You promise?”

Cronk.

Johnny kept walking with the wind blowing at his back. The trees on either side of the road seemed to go on forever. He couldn’t see into them as far as he could before. “Seems like the night is coming, but it’s too early for the night to come. Don’t you think Poe?”

Poe was ahead of him perched on the branch of a bush. The branch swayed and Poe’s feathers rippled in waves. Johnny could never tell exactly where Poe’s black eyes were looking, but they usually seemed to be looking at him, except now. Now they were fixed on a point up above and behind Johnny. He turned around to see the sky behind him dark with black clouds. A gust of wind blew back his hair.

Cronk. Cronk!

Johnny looked back at Poe and then quickly back at the approaching storm. Lightning flashed in the distance. Johnny counted to himself: one, two, three, four, five. Faint thunder. Still far away.

Cronk. Poe leapt from the branch and started flying towards the trees.

“Wait! You promised.” cried Johnny, and the bird stopped and landed on another bush. Then Poe turned and cronked loudly. Then the raven flew back to the first branch, cronked and flew back to the second. Poe did this two more times, back and forth between the same branches, cronking loudly at each.

“What is it Poe?” Johnny walked up to the branch along the road. Poe came back to it, almost on top of Johnny, flapped its wings and soared back to the far branch. Poe let out a cronk so loud it echoed through the trees.

“What is it?” but as Johnny looked he could see almost a path through the weeds from the road right towards Poe. From the corner of his eye, Johnny saw another flash of lightning. One, two, three. Louder thunder. “Erm… There better not be squirrels.” Johnny dived into the bushes. Poe let out an approving chirp. Johnny kept his eyes on Poe as he pushed his way through the prickly brush. Branches cut and scraped his forearms and snagged his clothing, but in very little time at all he’d reached Poe.

Cronk. Poe flew almost to the trees and turned back. Cronk!

Johnny plowed ahead. “You better know where you’re going.” Poe next flew into the trees. Johnny had to squint to keep the outline of the bird in view as he struggled towards the trees. Just as he got under the tree line he felt a splash of water on his face. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw a wall of water rush by. The rain was so thick he could barely see the road.

Poe led him parallel to the road, edging deeper into the forest as they went. The thunder grew louder and right on top of the lightning until each clap would shake the trees and send a shower of rain down onto Johnny.

Soon Poe landed on top of the rotted out bones of a fallen tree. Johnny crawled inside the hollow trunk. He was a little wet, but not soaked. Poe flew into the mouth Johnny’s shelter, let out a cronk and then flew back out into the storm. Even under the trees the rain soon fell thick all around him.

-

The storm blew away almost as quickly as it had blown in. Johnny crawled to the edge of the tree trunk and watched the wind shake water from the trees. Soon they dropped less and less water, and Johnny pulled himself out of the trunk. His feet plunked into a cold wet mud that instantly started soaking through his shoes. After staying mostly dry in the storm, he didn’t want to get all wet and cold now. He also didn’t want to crawl back into the dark tree trunk either. Instead he stepped onto the lip of the trunk and put his hands on the top. The wood was slippery, but also soft. He dug his fingers in enough to pull himself up onto it.

Johnny stood up and looked around. He could see the highway through the trees and hear the distant traffic. He didn’t see Poe anywhere, but that didn’t worry him anymore. “When Poe comes back… Poe will um… lead me out of the forest somewhere safe. And then Poe will stay with me even after I’m safe and be my friend. Or um… I could stay here in the forest maybe. Poe will help me build a tree house and bring me food. But no, the cold… I wouldn’t be able to not freeze out here in the winter. I’ll have to go somewhere, but Poe will help.”

A strange chirping clicking noise behind Johnny caught his ear. He looked over his shoulder and saw two large gray squirrels at the other end of the log.

“No! Don’t you come any closer squirrels! Squirrels are mean.” He held out his hands to point at them, but as soon as he moved his arm, the squirrels bounded straight for him as if he was holding out food.

“No. No. No! No!” Johnny backed away but his muddy shoes slipped on the slick bark. He fell backwards and bounced off the side of the trunk and tumbled through the air. His feet hit the ground hard. He collapsed with a sickening snap and fell head first into a thick thorny bush that cut him every where he touched it. He screamed.

Johnny could feel hundreds of prickles biting at his skin. His foot was stuck behind him, wedged into something. He tried to use it to pull himself up, but pain exploded up his leg every time he tried to move it. He tried pushing himself up with his hands but every movement dug the prickles deeper into him.

“Poe. Poe!” he yelled, but he didn’t know how the bird could help him out of this. Everything hurt. He had to do something. Johnny flailed his arms against the bush and dug his good foot into the ground. He pushed and pulled himself out of the thorns with a shriek of pain that bounced through the trees.

Johnny stood panting with his weight on his good foot. His face and arms were warm with blood from his cuts. His bad foot was bent to the side and caught between a rock and a branch of the dead tree that had been his shelter from the storm. He bit the inside of his cheek and twisted himself free.

Johnny hopped to the mouth of the trunk and sat down in the opening. Then he said that same word for just the second time in his life. Only this time much louder.

-

Johnny sat with his gaze fixed on one spot in the trees. If he kept looking at one spot it didn’t hurt so much. He stayed there for a long time watching the light fade until Poe returned.

Cronk. Cronk! Poe flew up to him dropping an apple and a small can at his feet.

“There you are!” Johnny smiled and picked up the apple and the can. It was a small pop-top can of tuna. “Erm… thanks.”

Poe cronked and flapped in obvious distress at Johnny’s appearance.

“I think my ankle broke itself, Poe.” Johnny winced as he took a bite out of the apple. Even his teeth seemed to hurt. “I should wash… I should clean out the cuts with some of this rain water around, but I just… I didn’t feel like it. I just didn’t feel like doing much of anything but sitting here. Moving’s too painful.”

Cronk.

“I’m not sure what to do now Poe. Erm… You can’t carry me, and I doubt you can fly back here with a doctor. I can’t walk to the road. I can’t go with you anywhere, but I don’t think I’ll heal right just sitting here. It’s gotten so cold. The sun is going.”

Poe cronked and flew away again. Johnny wondered how Poe would try to help him now.

-

Soon Johnny couldn’t see much beyond the few trees nearest him. The dark had never scared him much, but this dark was different. The woods were alive with chirping, scuttling noises, breaking twigs, and occasionally the roar of a car or truck going by on the highway. Depending on which direction they were going, they’d cast a sweeping beam of light through the trees allowing Johnny to see into the night.

He felt something crawling on his arm. “Ew!” he flicked away two spiders, and then, without thinking, a large beetle off his ankle. He bit his cheek and stifled a yell. His ankle had swollen up bigger than his fist and screamed with pain at the slightest touch or movement. It throbbed constantly.

He brushed off a few more bugs and started feeling them even where they weren’t. It’s just your imagination, he told himself.

“You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Poe will bring you help, somehow. You’ll get out of this and find your parents and go home, and Poe will stay with you and help you.”

A headlight swept past and Johnny froze. He’d seen eyes. Several pairs of eyes.

“No. No eyes. No squirrels. No mean squirrels.” He could hear footsteps now or thought he did. Animals moving around him. Another car and he saw the outline of a dog. Several dogs. But they weren’t dogs of course. They were wolves.

That word was becoming a regular part of his vocabulary.

-

“And the rockets’ red glaaaare. Boom! The bombs bursting in aaaair. Boom!” Johnny sang as loud as he could, but with each passing headlight he could see the wolves circling closer. They could smell his blood smeared and dried all over his arms and face. Somehow they knew he’d broken his ankle too, or maybe they just knew he was injured and figured he was easy prey. “…of the braaaaaaave! …Ooooh say can you…” It was the only song he could think of, but he’d read somewhere about bears that you should sing show tunes while walking through the forest to scare them away. He didn’t know any show tunes.

The adrenaline was dulling the pain at least enough for Johnny to stand. He used a long heavy branch as a crutch and waived his free arm to look bigger than he was. The wolves didn’t seem to care. Closer and closer they came.

Johnny turned around in circles trying to keep them from his back, but there were too many of them. They weren’t close enough for him to see without the light of a passing car, but they were just beyond his field of vision now. They could leap at him at any moment out of the darkness. He turned and turned.

“…that our flag… was… still…” He stopped dizzy and about to fall over. “Poe, where are you?”

Before he was even aware of seeing movement, he was already swinging the branch. He connected with the jaw of the first wolf with a crack and knocked it off course enough that it flew past him and scattered the wolves on the opposite side. Another one must have been on top of the fallen tree. It jumped down towards him from above, but Johnny was able to get the branch underneath it and vault it over the top of him.

Then a jaw locked around his good ankle. Johnny flailed the branch at the wolf, pounding at its eyes until it let go. As it did, it grabbed the stick in its mouth and wrenched it free from Johnny’s grip. He could feel blood running down his ankle filling up his shoe. He looked up into the face of a wolf now no more than a few feet away. He could see its lips quivering as it growled, drool dripping from its fangs. Johnny closed his eyes and braced himself.

Cronk! Johnny’s heart leapt as he heard a swooshing of wings, a howl and a whimper. He opened his eyes and saw Poe gripping the wolf’s muzzle pecking at its eyes. Another wolf leapt at Johnny, but Poe met it in mid air. “Go Poe!” Johnny yelled.

Poe cronked and flew a circle around Johnny. As headlights slid by, Johnny could see the wolves scattering, but they weren’t going far.

The raven flew up to Johnny from behind and grabbed him by his shirt pulling him forward. Johnny hopped along as Poe led him to a nearby tree and then let go. Johnny heard a cronk from above and looked up to see Poe jumping from one branch to another higher into the tree, cronking and looking back at Johnny.

“I get it Poe! I’m coming.” Johnny started climbing up the tree as fast as he could, which wasn’t very fast with one ankle broken and the other bit and bleeding.

He could hear the wolves coming up to the tree growling and howling. One jumped and just missed him. The next caught his pant leg with its fangs and ripped off a piece as it fell back to the earth. The third was met by Poe pecking at its eyes.

Johnny climbed until he was well out of the reach of the wolves, but still he kept climbing. Finally he pulled himself up onto a branch big enough for him to sit on with his legs propped up on another crossing branch. His broken ankle pulsed. His bitten ankle bled. The pain and exhaustion washed over him and he slept.

_

He was dreaming again. He was at the ice cream shop with his parents again, but this time the forklift bringing in their sundae ran over his feet and knocked over a glass dish that shattered on his nose. His parents sat there laughing at him. The waitress turned into a wolf and ordered herself a Johnny Surprise. Just as she was about to take her first bite of him, Johnny woke up.

He had no idea where he was at first. The sight of crisscrossing tree branches and the blue sky might as well have been Mars, but then he felt the pain in his ankles and everything from the day before came back to him. He laughed. He laughed a long hallow laugh that shook the branches and brought water down from the leaves above. He was broken and bleeding and alone and up in a tree that he wasn’t entirely sure he could climb down from. All he had was a bird that seemed to like him and show up at the right moments. It was all the funniest thing he’d ever heard of. He’d probably die sitting where he sat up in the tree, if it weren’t for Poe. Johnny sighed a big sigh. “Well, do I wait up here for Poe or do I climb down. I mean, he’ll probably show up soon with a full pancake breakfast and a ladder.” He laughed again.

Then as the wind rustled the leaves, Johnny heard another sound: a weak chirping sound coming from nearby. He twisted around to find the source. Just a little below him and out in the crook of a branch sat a bird’s nest. Johnny looked down into it and saw three young hatchlings. They looked like dark grey balls of fluff with pink beaks. They didn’t have real feathers yet and their heads were bald. One of them was asleep. One of them was chirping as if it barely had the energy to move. Something had fallen on the third and it was struggling to push it off.

The nest wasn’t that far away. “I can help you little chicks.” Johnny slid down his branch a little, biting his cheek to fight back the pain of his ankles and cuts. He held on with one hand as he stretched with his other until he could just reach the thing that had fallen on the third chick. He walked on it with his fingers to roll it off and saw that it was another chick. A dead chick covered in flies. Johnny gagged and flung it out of the nest to the ground.

“Ew. Ick. Why didn’t your momma bird throw that out before.” The freed chick let out a little chirp and then stumbled and fell over in the nest. “Are um… you ok little chicks? Are you hungry? I’m sure your momma bird will come back soon with food.”

Johnny looked closer at the sleeping chick. He didn’t think it was sleeping. He poked it and it didn’t move. He felt it for any signs of life. Finding none, he flicked the second dead chick out of the nest and sat back on his branch. He kept watching the nest, though, just to make sure the other two chicks still moved from time to time.

Cronk! Poe landed on Johnny’s branch depositing a white plastic bag next to him. Cronk!

“Thanks Poe. What did you bring me?” He riffled through the bag and found a juice box, chocolate candy, antibiotic cream, an individual sized pack of facial tissue, and a “congratulations on your graduation” card. “Erm… thanks Poe. That’s a start anyway.”

Cronk.

“Hey there are these birds over ther-“ Johnny looked up past Poe and saw the two chicks chirping weakly. Their pink beaks stretched up towards Poe on the branch above. Wherever Poe moved along the branch, their beaks pointed.

Poe looked at Johnny with her deep black eyes. “They’re yours? They’re yours! How could you Poe. How?” He looked from Poe back to the screaming chicks. “You’ve been helping me while your own chicks starved.” Cronk. “What’s wrong with you?!” He yelled at Poe so fiercely the raven took a step back and flapped her wings. “Those are your chicks. Your kids. You have to feed them and love them and listen to them. Can’t you even hear them?!” Turning to the chicks, he said “Chirp louder little chicks! Chirp louder,” but even Johnny could barely hear them. “Help them! Love them.” Poe just stood there looking at Johnny.

“You have to hear them. You have to hear them, Poe.” Mustering all his strength, Johnny pulled himself down off his branch and started climbing down. He could put a little weight on his bitten ankle. Enough to get down. He wouldn’t let the pain stop him. He got to the ground and grabbed another long solid branch to help him walk, and he headed towards the sounds of the cars.

Poe flew down beside him. The plastic bag of supplies clutched in her beak. “No! Go away. I don’t want your stupid food. You should be feeding your chicks not me.”

She dropped the bag in front of Johnny and cronked. “No! I don’t want it.” He grabbed the juice box out of the bag and threw it at Poe. She dodged it in a flurry of wings and cronks.

Johnny hobbled ahead through the trees and bushes yelling at Poe whenever she came near him and throwing things at her when there was a rock or a branch he could throw. Soon he was out of the trees and back down to the road. Some of the cuts on his arms and face had re-opened. He couldn’t move his foot below his broken ankle anymore, and the bites on his other ankle itched and burned.

As a car approached down the road, Johnny waved his arms and screamed, but the car drove right by.

Cronk. Poe was on the ground near him. Cronk.

“Go away! Help your chicks! Listen to them, not me.”

Another car. Johnny got right up onto the shoulder and threw his branch at the car. It exploded on the front bumper. The car swerved a little but disappeared down the road.

Cronk.

Johnny clenched his teeth. “Go away. Listen to them.” He bit down on his check so hard he could feel his mouth bleeding as he limped and hopped out onto the freeway.

Poe cronked and flew around him. She tried to grab his shirt, but Johnny threw her off. He stood there in the middle of the lane staring back down the freeway at an approaching car. He put his hands up in the air and stared at it getting closer and closer without slowing down.

Cronk!

“Listen to them. Listen to me!” He screamed a long loud scream as the car sped towards him.

***

“Look out!” The woman yelled. The man slammed on the brakes and turned just enough to avoid the boy that had appeared out of nowhere in the middle of their lane. He kept control of the car but drove off into the grass median before coming to a stop.

The man jumped out of the car flush with adrenaline and rage. “What the hell are you doing?!” But the boy collapsed on to the freeway.

The man ran up to him and saw a bloody mess of a child in torn rags. “Call 911,” he yelled back to his wife. He bent down to the child who looked back up into his eyes. “It’s all right,” said the man, “We’re gonna help you. It’s all right.”

The child smiled and turned his head to look at the side of the road. A raven took to the air and flew off into the trees.

Dark House

2009-06-28T15:39:00.000-07:00

Molly lived in the dark house on the block. The one with the forest for a yard. The one disconnected from the its pristinely maintained urban neighbors. The one adults didn’t see as they walked past with their dogs. The one that was haunted.

Molly lived there.

She never particularly cared much that the house was haunted. She went about her business and the house went about its. She didn’t mind if the house was killing people as long as it didn’t kill her.

Aside from living in a haunted house, she lived a normal life. She worked as a paralegal for a small law firm, belonged to a book club, and had just started dating a computer programmer named Martin whom she met through a friend. Martin was sweet. He had sandy brown hair, lived alone, and called his parents every Sunday.

Martin couldn’t believe his luck at finding someone like Molly. When he first saw her at the bar for Tom’s birthday, he immediately classified her as a WINF, his short hand for something like a MILF, only with “Women I’ll Never” replacing “Moms I’d Like to”. Most women fell into this category. The few who didn’t he labeled as “pandas”, a nickname he got from WWF, which was what he and his college buddies had called “Women I Wouldn’t…” He had no nickname for women he liked who would sleep with him. He had just called them Mary and Liza.

They had nothing on Molly. Her green eyes sparkled in the dim bar light, and just a glimpse of creamy white cleavage showed through her collared work shirt. Her long black hair swirled about her shoulders with a caressing softness that reminded Martin of being toweled dry after a childhood bath. Definitely a WINF, he thought and smiled before turning back to his conversation. Best not to dwell too much on WINF’s. Just spot them and move on.

So when Molly came over and said “Hello”, he nearly spilled his lime rickey. That she seemed to find him interesting and funny sent him over the moon. After a suitable number of dates, she spent the night at his place with her clothes on the bedroom floor, except for her black-and-white polka-dotted bra with the little pink bow, which landed on the lamp.

**

To say the house killed people was something of a misnomer. It really more trapped them. They certainly ceased to be alive, but they weren’t exactly dead either.

Molly knew something had to be wrong with the house as soon as she saw the listing on eBay. A house that size, for that price, in that neighborhood? She wanted to see it for herself so she drove by it… several times before she finally figured out that the overgrown jungle of a lot she kept passing actually sheltered a house within. Ah, she thought. That’s the problem. Nothing a little landscaping couldn’t fix. She bid on it and won. Of course, she was the only person who bid on it.

Not long after moving in, she discovered the real reason for the low price and the motivated seller. But after a few nightmarish weeks, she and the house arrived at a truce. She stopped trying to redecorate or help people, and the house left her alone.

**

Martin had never even seen Molly’s house, let alone been inside it. Somehow in the intoxicating glow of a new relationship, Martin hadn’t noticed. All he knew was that she lived close enough to walk over at a moment’s notice, and that’s all that mattered.

One evening, as Molly and Martin lay entangled in each others post-coital arms, Martin heard a squeak and then a flutter. He turned on the light to see a bat flying around the corner of the room. In the ensuing chaos of screaming and flying sheets, Martin grabbed the first handy object, his brass pedestal lamp engraved with the United Federation of Planets insignia, and heaved it at the bat. Missing badly, the lamp crashed through the window and continued its maiden voyage to the street below. The bat, thrown into hysterics itself by all the high pitched screaming (coming mostly from Martin) followed the lamp out into the calm night.

Martin stood naked at the foot of the bed panting. Molly leaned against the corner of the room wrapped in a sheet. She’d grown so accustomed to tuning out horrible sights and sounds, one little bat shouldn’t get her heart racing, but there it thumped.

They both heard it at about the same time. Their gazes floated up to the ceiling and the faint cacophonous screeching hum beyond. Slowly Martin edged his way over to the pull the cord that lowered the drop ladder to the attic. Molly’s saucer-sized eyes followed his hand as it reached up to grab the hard plastic ring on the end. He pulled.

It was as if the attic had been filled with a strange fluttery brown noisy liquid that now flowed down and swirled around them before draining out the broken window into the night sky. They both screamed as Martin pushed Molly out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the darkness.

**

Molly was uncomfortable, to say the least, with the idea of Martin spending the night at her place. If her embarrassingly out-dated décor weren’t enough, there was the whole problem of her house being haunted. Unfortunately, the bat expert had insisted Martin’s house was uninhabitable until all the bats were gone. The risk of rabies was too high. Molly didn’t think rabies sounded all that bad. Rabies was curable, assuming you got your shots right away. Her house was fatal.

The bat expert had brought them down some clothes, and all the excitement had made Martin hungry. Molly insisted they eat at the late-night Chinese place up the road. She didn’t have any food as her kitchen was just too dangerous. Even in her current state of détente with her house, she didn’t like to go in there. Martin had suggested getting the food to-go, but where would they have eaten? The dining room was seriously off limits at the moment. She had no TV in the living room, and she flat out would not allow any food in her bedroom after a traumatic incident in her last apartment involving mice.

Molly encouraged Martin to drink several beers hoping the combination of the evening’s excitement and the alcohol would send him into a quick deep slumber. Unfortunately as they made their way back to her house, she could tell while he certainly wanted to go to bed, but not to sleep.

**

Everything seemed to have turned sepia-toned, as if Martin had just stepped out of Oz back into Dorothy’s house. They’d somehow navigated the trees in the dark and climbed up the rotting wood steps without stepping on protruding nails. Molly clicked on a light and creaked the door closed behind them.

The entryway had paisley wallpaper down half the wall, a chair rail, and then knotted pine paneling down to the hardwood floor. A dark mahogany hall butler stood sentinel by the door caught with them in the tiny pool of light thrown down by a strange flower shaped fixture in the beige ceiling. The hallway disappeared away from them.

“There’s no place like home,” he said looking around.

“It was like this when I bought it,” she said and bit her lip. “Haven’t had time to redecorate.”

“No, I like it. Very homey.” He lied unsuccessfully, expecting Elmira Gulch to pop out from around a corner strangling Toto. Mostly he wanted to go back to his bat-infested apartment as quickly as possible. He even turned back towards the door, but then, noticing the pile of shoes at the foot of the hall butler, he went to take off his shoes.

“Oh! No, you don’t have to do that.”

“What?”

“You can leave your shoes on.”

“I don’t mind,” and he popped both of them off. “I can’t stand wearing shoes without socks anyway.” The bat expert hadn’t been overly thorough in bringing them clothes. The smooth floor felt cold under his bare feet, but oddly comforting at the same time. The sense of dread that had been creeping up his back receded down to his ankles. He didn’t so much want to move anymore, let along leave.

But then he caught a glimpse of Molly’s breasts through her button down shirt, bra-less, again thanks to the bat expert. What followed was only slightly less chaotic than releasing a pack of hyenas into a slaughterhouse. Molly initially resisted but got swept up in the moment, a victim of a few drinks herself and her complete inability to resist any man with that exact shade of sandy brown hair and encyclopedic knowledge of Philip K. Dick novels. They floated upstairs and lost themselves in a flurry of pillows, sheets, and creaking bedsprings that built until they both shook with violent ecstasy. Martin even thought he felt the house shudder and moan a little when they climaxed. Then the wind howled and the shutters banged.

**

Martin awoke sometime in the night both parched with thirst and desperate to pee. He slipped out of bed carefully and pulled on his frigid pants off the floor. Outside in the hallway, he closed the door to the bedroom and pawed the wall for a light switch. He found an old push button one and hoped for the best. A series of dimpled glass orbs came to life in the ceiling. As Martin’s eyes adjusted to the warm tan glow, he could just make out the bathroom down the hall.

Martin sat down to pee at night, so he could close his yes if he wanted to without having to worry about his aim. But as he emptied what felt like a 5 gallon water coller into the bowl, he got bored and looked around the room. Molly had an old claw-foot tub. That could be fun. He made a mental note to suggest a bth. The tub looked strange somehow, and in the dim light from the hallway (as in his haste he hadn’t bothered to hunt for a switch in the bathroom) he could just make out that the feed weren’t claws at all, but looked more like regular feet. He’d never seen a regular-foot tub before.

He stood up and pulled the cord on the toilet, the reservoir being up near the ceiling. Turning the knob on the sink unleashed a tiny rivulet of water and a horrible chunk-chunk of a sound that seemed to lurch the entire vanity. He shut it off quickly, scrambling for enough water to at least rinse his hands. He wouldn’t be able to drink from that faucet though without waking neighbors several blocks away.

Back down the hallway quietly, he looked down from the top of the stairs into the void. Maybe it wasn’t worth it, trying to find the kitchen, but the back of his throat burned for water. He couldn’t fall asleep this thirsty. He’d just take a minute to get a glass of water. Then he could crawl back in bed beside Molly’s warm body and fall asleep.

**

He moved through the downstairs hallway trying not to squeak the floor and wake up Molly. The winds that had been so lout earlier in the evening had died down, leaving the house gripped in silence. Martin could hear his own heart beating in his ears. All the doors along the hallway were closed, but straight ahead Martin could just make out an ancient refrigerator with a large chrome clasp through an archway.

Once inside he found a speckled counter top that disappeared into a large porcelain sink. Martin could see the reflection of the hall light in the u-bend of the pipes. The air smelled old and he could feel the cold of the tile floor wrapping its way up around his legs embracing his entire body. Standing there, he nearly forgot why he’d come downstairs in the first place. Ah yes, his driving maddening thirst. He swallowed a dry sort of swallow and locked his eyes on to the faucets of the sink.

The pipes sang quietly as the water sputtered out into Martin’s cupped hands. He couldn’t poor it down his throat fast enough and soon bent down to drink directly from the faucet feeling the metallic taste on his tongue. Sated, he grasped the cool sink as he caught his breath. With his feet on the floor and his hands on the sink, Martin comfortable and relaxed, as if he were melting into them. His mind drifted into the darkness swirled through his memories of happiness and joy.

Then a sound brought him right again. It was a soft wisp of a sound. His ears led him out into the hallway to the door just next to the kitchen. It had knots on it. So did the paneling along the bottom of the walls. Martin stared at the knots on the door. They seemed to make a little face. Two knots for eyes, another for a round moth. A screaming mouth. A frightened mouth. He saw another on the door and another. More on the paneling. The wallpaper on the walls, the paisleys made grotesque frightened faces too, screaming at him, crying. Everywhere the screaming faces stared at him through hollow eyes. Spinning around him. Knots on the floor. Shadows on the ceiling. If he stood on the ceiling, they couldn’t get him. The screaming faces couldn’t…

A child. That’s what it sounded like. A wimpering child. He pushed the door open and the hall light struggled to fill the room. He could see the edge of a large dining room table but not much else. Except the table had no chairs.

The wisp of a sound had grown initially louder and then stopped suddenly as if silenced by the light. Martin held his breath, but could still faintly hear the wheezing sound of breathing. “Hello? Is someone there?”

A sharp intake of breath and a sniffle. “I’m sorry,” said a voice as fragile as a snowflake, “Was I too loud?” Sniffle. Snort. “I’m sorry. I’ll be quieter.”

Martin stepped into the room squinting in the darkness. “What?” His hand groped the wall for a button to turn on the lights.

“I’m sorry if I was loud. I didn’t mean to bother you.” Snif. Gulp.

“Who are you? Where are you?” He couldn’t find the switch.

“I’m sorry?” The voice started to break.

There it was. He pushed the button into the wall and a dusty chandelier flickered to light in the center of the room. Only a few bulbs came on casting a dull brown light down on the room below. Martin scanned the room for the source of the voice, but only saw a series of dishes and platters set on a shelf around the room. “Where are you?”

The voice shattered into tears. “Oh my god. You’re not the lady. You’re not… Can you help me? Please, can you help me?”

At the end of the table, no taller than the chair sitting next to her, stood the dirty, tear stained face of a young girl with curly brown hair.

“What’s wrong? Are you lost?” Martin walked towards her around the table. Something looked odd about the girl. Her hface seemed flatter than it should be and her unkempt locks fell about her shoulder in a pattern that reminded Martin… Well, it didn’t remind Martin so much as look strikingly like the weaved pattern in the back of the old dining room chair next to her.

“Please, can you help…” she babbled on, tears jumping to her red blood-shot eyes.

As Martin came around the head of the table, the girl came into full view. He stopped and looked at her. Her legs were bent out in front of her as if she were sitting, but she had no chair. Her abnormally long arms clung to her sides with her hands reaching out for the ground below. She didn’t seem to have feet. No, she was on her toes, but her legs were all skinny and smooth below the knee. How could she balance like that? Her toes seemed rooted in the floor.

“Help me.”

Martin looked at the chair next to her. The front legs were the same, or almost the same. The back ones seemed skinnier, like stretched out arms. The weaving. A face in the back of the chair. Faces in the plates, in the table. The girl sobbing. The cold floor on the bottoms of his feet made him stand up on his toes. He tried to grab the table. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think.

A scream snapped the world back into view and his feet back on the floor, but it wasn’t his scream. The girl. A high pitched warbling “Stop!”

Martin caught his breath.

“Don’t let it get you too!” She sniffed and snorted. Snot shot out of her nose.

“What?”

“The house. Don’t let it get you too. Once you’re feet get stuck, you can’t get free. I tried. I tried and tried and tried to free Ana, but I tried too long. My feet got stuck too.” She turned her eyes and her head as much as she could to the chair next to her. “Now she’s gone. Please, can you help me? I don’t want to become like Ana. Please, I don’t want to become a chair. Sometimes… Sometimes I can still hear her crying.”

“Of course. Of course I’ll help you.” He leapt at her feet and tried to pull her up off the floor. “Of course. How do I help you?” He pulled at her feet.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Oh please.”

He heard thumping down the stairs and a distant call of his name. He scratched and clawed at the girl’s feet, cold and hard and stuck to the floor.

“Martin!” Molly slid into the doorway, her robe trying to continue down the hall. “Martin!” She yelled again, straightening her robe out and closing the front.

Martin stood up next to the girl. “Molly quick, we have to help her.”

“Martin,” Molly screeched, “Get out of there. Get out of there quick.”

“Molly, we have to help her.”

“No, Martin. You can’t. Get out of there.”

“We have to help her.”

The screamed at each other from across the room. The girl sobbed. The house groaned a loud shuddering moan that shook dust down from the ceiling and shocked them all into silence. The large door started to swing shut.

“No!” Molly thrust her shoulder into the door and stopped it with a loud crack. “Not him!” The house answered loudly.

“Molly, we have to help her.”

“You can’t” she screamed back. “You can’t help them Martin. The house will have them.”

“Them? How many are there Molly? You know about this? You knew she was down here.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, lady. I tried to be quiet. I tried.”

“Shut up!”

“Molly! She’s just a child.”

“You can’t help them. I tried, Martin. Believe me, I tried.” Tears now stained Molly’s cheeks. “When I first moved in I tried, but the house almost had me too. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t. You can’t.”

“But-“

“What would you have me do? Saw off their legs? You can’t… Just ignore them. Just leave the house alone.”

“But Molly, she’s just a child”

“I know. Martin…” The hinges screamed as the door pushed against Molly’s shoulder. “Martin, I can’t hold the door forever. Please…”

“How many, Molly? How many since you moved in?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know Martin. I had to stop. I had to leave them alone.”

“I’m not leaving without her Molly.”

The door heaved against Molly’s shoulder, pushing her feet back in to the hallway before she regained her traction. “I can’t hold the door forever Martin!”

“I’m not-“

“The house will have you too. No!” She forced the door back a few inches. “I won’t let you take him. I love him.”

“Molly-“

The house screamed and the floor boards shuddered.

“I love you Martin.” They looked at each other from across the room. No woman had ever told Martin she loved him, no woman other than his mother.

“I love you Molly.” He said it without thinking. He did love her, with all his heart. He could look at her beautiful face for the rest of his life and die a happy man. Her robe fell away slightly, and he could see the soft slope of her creamy skin leading down to breasts naked beneath the terrycloth. He wanted to fly across the room and kiss her and carry her up to the bedroom. But the girl sniffed and snorted beside him, and the house started to rumble from deep below their feet. Molly slammed her weight into the door.

“I’m not leaving without her, Molly! You can’t just let her die.”

“I can’t let you die.” The hinges of the door let out a screech as the door pushed Molly back into the hallway. She could just see Martin from around the door. “No. No!” The door slammed shut and threw Molly against the wall.

**

The light of the chandelier flickered out, and the room went black. The girl’s scream split Martin’s ears as the cold floor gripped his feet.

**

Molly pounded the door as the house shook. “No. No. I love him.” She slumped against it and slid to her knees. “I’ll do anything… anything to save him.” In a flash she knew what the house wanted. “Even that, but you have to let him go. You have to let them all go.” The house twisted and popped. Molly stood up and screamed into the din “Only if you let them all go!” And the house was silent.

Molly walked back down the hallway letting her robe fall away to the floor. The cold air embraced her skin as she glided back up the stairs and into the bedroom. The door closed gently behind her.

**

Martin sifted through the wreckage of the house as the sun rose. The girl, Juliana, and her friend Ana sat cross-legged on the sidewalk watching him. All the others had left, wanting to get as far away from their former prison as they could. They had been mostly children. Martin wondered if any of them still had homes to go back to.

Every now and then one of the girls would shout “Molly!” and he’d listen hopefully for a response. His own voice had been shouted away long before. He pulled aside splintered boards and broken hunks of plaster to no avail. Then he lifted away some shingles and a piece of the rough to reveal her bed completely intact, and yet different somehow. The sun cleared a tree limb and sent a shaft of light directly onto the headboard. Her beautiful face now carved in wood stared back at him. The rubble shifted and the bed slid through a gab down towards the foundations lost in the darkness and a cloud of dust.

Friday the 13th Trivia Answers

2009-02-13T11:08:00.001-08:00

1. Kevin Bacon. Well of course he did. Isn’t he in every movie ever made?

2. There have been 12 films in the franchise, leaving the producers perfectly set up to release the definitive Friday the 13th, Part 13.

3. Part 4. That’s right, somehow there have been 8 films since Corey Feldman “finally” killed Jason in 1984.

4. Yep, Corey Feldman played Tommy Jarvis in “The Final Chapter”. He did not return to play the role in “A New Beginning” however.

5. Jason does not don his iconic hockey mask until Part 3. He’s barely even in Part 1 and he wears a sack over his head in Part 2.

ooo scary

6. Jason’s mother is the killer in Part 1 and copycat psychopath Roy Burns is the killer behind the hockey mask in “A New Beginning”. Roy proved to be far more mortal than Jason.

7. Freddy vs. Jason. I find they way the two mythologies are combined and explained to be very well done. The film itself is an action movie, not a horror movie, because when Freddy and Jason square off, there are no stakes because neither can really die. Still, it’s a highly satisfying action film.

photos

2008-11-29T07:47:00.000-08:00

Christmas Ideas 2008

2008-11-14T16:58:00.000-08:00

In no particular order:

Wii games and accessories.
(We currently have the Wii sports games it came with and the Star Wars Lego game.)

Socks

Laptop case from Barry's Farm
My computer's dimensions are: (w) 12.5, (d) 9.4, (h) 0.87 to 1.33 inches
I will enter the exact height soon.

A Blue Tooth headset for my cellphone (I have a Motorola w490)
Does not have to be fancy or the one pictured.

Movies:

Lost Skeleton of Cadavra

Silverado
(Doesn't have to be the 2-disc set, as long as it's widescreen.)

The Dark Knight

I could use a new green Cubs hat. I believe I wear a medium.

Amusing T-Shirts are also always appreciated. I prefer smalls, but mediums can fit as well.

Sloppy Joe Bake

2008-06-18T10:45:00.000-07:00

Sloppy Joe Pasta Bake

1 small garlic clove
1 red pepper
1 orange pepper
1 yellow zucchini
1 broccoli clown
1 lb ground turkey
1 small can tomato paste
1.25 cups water
1 packet Sloppy Joe seasoning
½ bag of Trader Joes rotini
Grated cheddar cheese
Avocado

Brown the meat and garlic (and yellow onion if you have one). Add Sloppy Joe seasoning, tomato paste, and water.

Chop veggies and boil noodles and add them all to casserole dish.

Add meat.

Bake for 25 minutest at 425.

Serve with cheese and avocado. Tabasco to taste.

(note to self: next time maybe add black or kidney beans)

Polenta Sausage Pepper Bake Thingy

2008-04-14T20:34:00.000-07:00

1 shallot bulb
2 small garlic cloves
1 green pepper
1 yellow pepper
1 orange pepper
1 roma tomato
1 tube polenta
1 lb Italian sausages
1 cup old red wine

Chop all the vegetables. Remove the sausage from its casing*.

Soften the garlic and shallots in some olive oil.

Add the meat.

Once the meat is mostly cooked, add the green pepper, tomato, and wine. Simmer covered until the green peppers have gone pale and squishy.

Spray a baking dish with non-stick oil and crush the polenta tube into the bottom. Add the meat mixture. Put the yellow and orange peppers on top.

Bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees.

Makes one dinner and one lunch. Or 2 servings.

*If you want. I’m sure it would be fine whole or sliced.

Swineherd's Pie

2008-04-02T12:37:00.001-07:00

Ingredients
1 lb ground pork
½ onion – chopped
2 garlic cloves - minced
2 carrots – chopped
1 small broccoli clown - chopped
A liberal pouring of soy sauce (2 tablespoons)
1 heaping tablespoon tomato paste
1 cup old red wine
8 servings of instant mashed potatoes
Celery salt – to taste

Sautee the onions and garlic in some olive oil. I used a cast iron pan.

When they’re translucent, add the pork and brown.

When the meat looks cooked, add the veggies and celery salt.

After a few minutes add the soy sauce and tomato paste.

After a few minutes add the red wine.

Simmer for about 5 minutes while you make the instant mashed potatoes.

Put the meat/veggie mix in a backing dish.

Spoon the mashed potatoes on top.

Bake for 20 minutes at 400 degrees.

Makes one dinner and 3 lunches, or about 4 servings.

Recipes

2008-04-02T12:36:00.001-07:00

Blood Orange, Onion, Jalapeño Trout
Polenta Sausage Pepper Bake Thingy
Really Good Chili
Sloppy Joe Bake
Swineherd's Pie

The Lake

2007-09-26T19:27:00.000-07:00

The Lake
By Alan Goy
Performance History:
Rough Theater Co, San Francisco 2001
Three Wise Monkeys, San Francisco 2003
Teatro del Navile, Bologna Italy 2005 (translated into Italian)

Setting:
The law offices of Mr. Jenkins.
A Mansion on a lake somewhere in the United States.

Time: Switches between the early 20th century and the 1960’s.

Characters:
MR. JENKINS: A lawyer.
MARLOW : A young woman, maybe twenty. Mrs. Finch’s live in caretaker.
MRS. FINCH: Old – Catatonic and wheelchair bound. She must look straight
and blank except when otherwise noted.
Young – Full of energy and in love with Derrick. From a
wealthy family.
DERRICK : A young man engaged to be married to the young Mrs. Finch.
DAVE : A young man in love with Marlow.

Casting Note:
Derrick and Dave are meant to be played by the same actor, as are the old and young Mr.s. Finch.

Scene Note:
The only scenery needed is a chair and telephone for Marlow, and a curtain or door behind which Mrs. Finch can be wheeled, hidden, and quickly revealed. The scene in the law office can take place using the same chair from the mansion and no desk.

Scene 1
MARLOW sits in a chair outside MR. JENKINS office. The door opens.

MR. JENKINS
You look that over, Arthur. I’ll be right with you.

He closes the door.

You must be Miss, ah…

MARLOW
Adams. Marlow Adams.

MR. JENKINS
Right. We’ll have to meet out here. Unexpected business…

MARLOW
Of course. I brought a copy of my resume.

MR. JENKINS
No, that’s alright. Mary, my secretary called you for the interview?

MARLOW
Yes, sir, she-

MR. JENKINS
And she told you all about the job?

MARLOW
Yes, I would be Mrs. Finch’s live-in nurse for the rest of the summer until the regular-

MR. JENKINS
Until Miss Benchley returns. You know Mrs. Finch is confined to a wheel chair-

MARLOW
And requires medication at specific times and-

MR. JENKINS
Mary briefed you on the compensation?

MARLOW
Yes, it’s very generous-

MR. JENKINS
Mrs. Finch may live in the Burke’s Mansion, but she’s not made of money. I should know. This firm has overseen her finances and care for decades. The mansion is her
MR. JENKINS cont.
primary asset; thus, in order to protect the property, you are not permitted to have outside guests. Besides, Mrs. Finch requires constant care and will need your full attention. The
mansion is remote enough that nearly all calls made from it are long distance. Long distance calls are expensive, are they not?

MARLOW
Yes, sir –

MR. JENKINS
Personal calls are not permitted. I am a busy man, this is a busy firm. I trust that since Mary asked you to be here you are an upstanding girl capable of handling anything that might come up…

MARLOW
Of course, I-

MR. JENKINS
My point is, do not call me or this firm for any reason unless it is an absolute emergency, but even then, as you are a trained nurse, I would trust that you would no better how to handle the matter than anyone here.

MARLOW
Of course, Mr. Jenkins.

MR. JENKINS
Do you have a car?

MARLOW
Yes, sir, I have an –

MR. JENKINS
Good, go back out to Mary and have her give you directions and a set of keys. Be there by 9 am Tuesday morning.

MARLOW stands.

MARLOW
Yes, Mr. Jenkins… Sir?

MR. JENKINS
Yes?

MARLOW
I’m a little confused. Does that mean I’ve got the job.

MR. JENKINS
Of course, you wouldn’t be here otherwise.

MARLOW
Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. You won’t be disappointed.

MR. JENKINS
I’m sure I won’t. No if you’ll please excuse me…

MARLOW
Yes, of course.

MR. JENKINS exits. Blackout.

Scene 2
MRS. FINCH sits in wheelchair. MARLOW, enters.

MARLOW
So, it’s just you and me now Mrs. Finch. Miss Benchley just left. I’m sure we’ll have a great time together. You have a beautiful house Mrs. Finch. It must be wonderful to live here. I’m sure you had some great times. I’m looking forward to living here a while.

MARLOW sits, pause

I know I’m not supposed to make personal calls, but it’s my first day, and I promised my friend Ellen I’d call her when I got here, to let her know I found the place, so if you don’t mind I’ll just make this one call…

MARLOW picks up the phone and dials.

Hey Ellen, it’s me… Yeah, it’s great! The place is bigger than I thought it was. I’m going to have such a groovy summer here, but guess what? The regular nurse, Miss Benchley, said she might not come back at the end of the summer after all… I can’t stay Ellen…. No… I lied, and his secretary must not have checked… I know enough to get by, besides I’ll make next year’s tuition this summer… How hard can it be? … I could make a lot more money if I stayed for a whole year though… I’d just finish school next year… No, you’re right. He’ll probably find out. Mr. Jenkins is pretty smart. Of course I’m never supposed to call him, so how could he know?… Stop it… So did Marcy call you…

Blackout as MARLOW keeps talking.

Scene 3
MRS. FINCH sits in wheelchair. MARLOW, her nurse, sits in chair beside her, doing crossword. Blackout.

Scene 4
MRS. FINCH sits in wheelchair. MARLOW sits asleep in chair. Alarm goes off. MARLOW wakes

MARLOW
Time for you medicine Mrs. Finch.

MARLOW feeds MRS. FINCH some pills. Blackout.

Scene 5
MRS. FINCH sits in wheelchair. MARLOW is on the phone.

MARLOW
I know. And you’d think in a house this big, there’d be at least one television, or at least a record player. I carted all my albums here for nothing. I mean, come on, this woman isn’t that old. She had to have listened to music when she was younger. I know. (Alarm goes off) Drat, I got to go… Its medicine time… Yeah, I’m really not supposed to be on the phone anyway… I’ll call you later… Bye Ellen.

Blackout

Scene 6
MRS. FINCH sits in wheelchair. MARLOW, her nurse, sits in chair beside her, doing crossword. Blackout.

Scene 7
MRS. FINCH sits in wheelchair. MARLOW is doing her nails.

MARLOW
Ok. I have something important to tell you Mrs. Finch. I know I’m not supposed to have people over to the house, but I’ve got a date tonight. I just can’t take it anymore. I’ve been here, what, 2 weeks now, and you haven’t even moved, let alone said anything to me. It’s really boring. And this house. It’s like the squarest house in the world. I mean half the reason I took this job in the first place was to live in a mansion like this one. It’s huge, and it has those beautiful gardens and the lake out back. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to live here for free, and get paid well to look after you? It’s a swell deal right? Wrong. There’s nothing to do here Mrs. Finch. What did you used to do for fun? There’s no TV, hardly any books to speak of, and you’re certainly no laugh riot. When he hired me, Mr. Jenkins didn’t say you were a complete vegetable. All you do is stare off into space, until you get tired and go to sleep. Then when you wake up, you just stare off into space again. What’s going on inside that head of yours Mrs. Finch? Nothing, I bet. Just like the nothing in this house. I’m bored. Dave is coming over for dinner and conversation. So instead of our usual sitting in the living room together watching the wall. I’m going to wheel you over here into the dining room where you won’t be in the way and close the door.

MARLOW wheels MRS. FINCH over and closes the curtain in front of her. MARLOW picks up the phone and dials…

MARLOW
Hello, Ellen… Guess what?... He’s coming over tonight… Dave!... I know…

Blackout, as MARLOW keeps talking.

Scene 8
Young MRS. FINCH and DERRICK skip onto stage in love.

MRS. FINCH
Over here, over here.

DERRICK
What, what? What am I looking at?

MRS. FINCH
There across the lake, do you see it.

DERRICK
What am I looking for?

MRS. FINCH
You must see it.

DERRICK
I can’t see anything. I am blinded by your beauty.

MRS. FINCH
Don’t tease, you have to see it.

DERRICK
Do you mean the old Burke’s Mansion.

MRS. FINCH
Yes.

DERRICK
It’s beautiful. Just like you.

MRS. FINCH
It’s mine. Just like you.

DERRICK
What do you mean?

MRS. FINCH
Father just bought for me. For us, to live in after we marry.

DERRICK
Now you’re teasing.

MRS. FINCH
I am not.

DERRICK
You’re serious?

MRS. FINCH
Of course, I wouldn’t lie.

DERRICK grabs MRS. FINCH and hugs her vigorously.

DERRICK
Oh, Merideth, I am truly the luckiest person alive.

MRS. FINCH
Let’s go have a look around our new home.

DERRICK
Can we get inside?

MRS. FINCH
I snuck the keys away from Father.

DERRICK
Merideth!

MRS. FINCH
I have to make sure I like it before Father finalizes the deal.

DERRICK
You sneak! Let’s go see it. We have time before you need to get back home.

MRS. FINCH
We have all night. Father’s gone back to the City to sign the papers and won’t be back until Monday. I want to spend the night there tonight to make sure it’s as pleasant in the evening as it is during the day, but I’d be afraid to spend the night there alone.

DERRICK
I’ll protect you.

MRS. FINCH
I hope so.

DERRICK
What ever will we do with the whole night to ourselves… We’re not married, yet.

MRS. FINCH
No, but maybe the house isn’t the only thing I should spend a night with before finalizing the deal. Just to make sure we like it.

DERRICK
I’m sure we’ll like it.

MRS. FINCH
Yes?

DERRICK
I like it already.

MRS. FINCH
What are we waiting for?

DERRICK
Let’s go

Derrick starts to lead Mrs. Finch off the way they entered.

MRS. FINCH
No, not the car. There’s a row boat at the end of the pier. Let’s go for a little moonlight boat ride first.

DERRICK
I’ll row fast.

Exit in love. Blackout.

Scene 9
MARLOW is on the phone. The curtain is closed to conceal MRS. FINCH.

MARLOW
I’m not going to tell you any more than that… I am not… He’s coming over again tonight though… No, I don’t even think she notices. I don’t think she notices much of anything anymore… No, I leave her in the dinning room half the time now. I can’t take looking at her all the time… Trust me, you would too… Oh!.. I got to go… No, its not Medicine time. I’ve got to get ready before Dave comes… I’ll call you later… Bye.

MARLOW exits. Blackout.

Scene 10
MARLOW enters in bath robe pursued by DAVE in boxers and T-Shirt. The curtain is closed to conceal MRS. FINCH.

DAVE
Why do you have to go, baby?

MARLOW
It’s medicine time. I have to give the old statue her pills.

DAVE
What kind of pills?

MARLOW
Nothing fun, but I have to give them to her.

DAVE
Can’t it wait, baby? It’s so nice in bed.

MARLOW
No, it can’t wait.

DAVE
Then I’m coming with you. I can’t be away from you for a second, a half a second, a nano-second.

MARLOW
No, Don’t. I don’t want her to see the two of us.

DAVE
Why not? She has to hear the two of us. Now she can put a face to the screams and moans.

MARLOW
I really rather she not when you’re in your shorts. Please, just keep the sheets warm for me. OK. I promise I’ll (whispers something in his ear)

DAVE
Really, baby? Well OK then.

DAVE exits. MARLOW pulls the curtain back to reveal MRS. FINCH. in the wheelchair.

MARLOW
Time for your medicine Mrs. Finch.

Blackout.

Scene 11
DERRICK enters, drunk. The curtain is closed.

DERRICK
Merideth, honey, are you there. I found another bottle of wine in the cellar. Those Burkes sure did leave a lot behind when they left. Honey where are you?

A loud crash can be heard off stage.

MARLOW off
Ouch!

DERRICK
Oh, no honey. Are you OK.

DERRICK puts the bottle down and goes behind the curtain. He helps MRS. FINCH. out.

DERRICK
I’m sorry, honey, I forget that you’re a delicate lady without much practice in heavy drinking.

MRS. FINCH
I have more practice drinking than you think.

DERRICK
Oh, really.

MRS. FINCH
Patricia and I often would nip a bottle of brandy up to our rooms and stay up all night talking.

DERRICK
Talking about what?

MRS. FINCH
Boys mostly. Men. Staying up all night with men. What it would be like to spend the night with a man.

DERRICK
Now you know what that’s like. I hope you don’t regret it.

MRS. FINCH
Oh, no. Tonight has been wonderful. Everything I dreamed of and more.

DERRICK
And once we’re married we can do that every night.

MRS. FINCH
The weddings still a month away.

DERRICK
Your father won’t always be out of town.

MRS. FINCH
No, but maybe he’ll let me move in here alone before the wedding.

DERRICK
Will your father let you stay here by yourself the whole month.

MRS. FINCH
Why shouldn’t he?

DERRICK
To prevent me from coming over every night. Your father isn’t a stupid man. He was my age once too you know.

MRS. FINCH
Oh, Derrick, look. The sun is coming up over the lake. It’s so beautiful.

DERRICK
The first rays of sunshine brightening the water, and the shore, and the road. It’s a new day.

MRS. FINCH
Oh my god.

DERRICK
All right, so maybe that was a little sappy, but…

MRS. FINCH
No. No. That’s not it.

DERRICK
What then?

MRS. FINCH
The road. Look at the road.

DERRICK
What? What am I looking for? Is this another one of your games? That car driving up the road, did your father buy us that too?

MRS. FINCH
No, that is my father driving up the road.

DERRICK
What! You said he was in the City.

MRS. FINCH
He’s supposed to be. Maybe he noticed the keys were missing. You’ve got to get out of here. He can’t find you here.

DERRICK
I know. I know.

MRS. FINCH
Get back to the boat.

DERRICK
The boat. Right.

MRS. FINCH
Get back to the boat and get back to your car and then back home… Hurry.

DERRICK
I love you.

MRS. FINCH
I love you too.

DERRICK exits, MRS. FINCH exits behind curtain. Blackout

Scene 12
MRS. FINCH sits in wheelchair. MARLOW sits asleep in chair. MARLOW wakes suddenly.

MARLOW
Oh Shit! What time is it? I can’t remember. I gave her a pill at…

She stares at her watch for long time trying to remember.

I guess it’s medicine time again.

MARLOW feeds MRS. FINCH some pills. Blackout.

Scene 13
DAVE enters in boxers and t-shirt, stretching as if awakening in the middle of the night. The curtain is closed to conceal MRS. FINCH.

DAVE
Damn, I’ve got the munchies. Where’s that kitchen again?

DAVE pulls back the curtain revealing MRS. FINCH. sitting in wheelchair awake.

DAVE
Ah! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were up. I’m Dave.

DAVE offers his hand, MRS. FINCH doesn’t move.

You’re Mrs. Finch. I’m glad to finally meet you. Damn, Marlow was right. You are a barrel load of excitement. Sorry to bother you. I’m just looking for the kitchen. You wouldn’t be able to tell me where it is, would you… No, didn’t think so. Peace.

DAVE exits. MRS. FINCH looks after him as he leaves. Blackout.

Scene 14
MRS. FINCH sits in wheelchair. MARLOW, sits in chair beside her, doing crossword. Blackout.

Scene 15
The curtain is closed. MARLOW enters wearing a robe, walks over to curtain, slides it open revealing MRS. FINCH.

MARLOW
Medicine time again.

As she readies the pills, DAVE enters unseen in boxers and T-shirt. Walks up behind her and grabs her suggestively, maybe kisses her neck.

MARLOW
Don’t do that. You frighten me.

DAVE
I can’t help it, baby.

Turning her around to face him. They embrace looking closely into each other’s eyes. DAVE’s back should be to MRS. FINCH

DAVE continued
I can’t stand to be away from you another minute, another nano-minute.

MARLOW
There’s no such thing as a nano-minute.

DAVE
Sure there is. I just made it up.

MARLOW
What is a nano-minute?

DAVE
Too long to be away from you.

MARLOW
I have to give her her pills.

DAVE
Not just yet.

They kiss, during this last exchange and continuing into the kiss, MRS. FINCH Turns to look at DAVE and reaches out to him. She is not seen by MARLOW or DAVE.

DAVE
That’ll tide me over.

He ends the kiss with a flamboyant twirl just before MRS. FINCH would have reached him. She returns to her regular position.

MARLOW
Now get back upstairs.

DAVE
Hurry.

MARLOW
I love you.

DAVE
I love you too, baby.

He exits. Blackout.

Scene 16
The curtain is closed. DAVE sits in the chair. MARLOW on his lap. They are drinking wine.

DAVE
I found out some interesting information about that statue in the other room.

MARLOW
What statue?

DAVE
Mrs. Finch.

MARLOW
I don’t want to talk about her. She makes me nervous.

DAVE
Why, baby? She’s harmless.

MARLOW
There’s something odd about her. I don’t like it.

DAVE
She’s a vegetable. What could be more odd than that?

MARLOW
You know what I mean.

DAVE
She never married.

MARLOW
Stop.

DAVE
She’s really Miss Finch.

MARLOW
No, seriously. I don’t want to hear about her. I don’t want to think about her. I can’t wait until this summer’s over.

DAVE
I like it here.

MARLOW
You would. You don’t have to spend all day alone with her.

DAVE
Don’t let your imagination trip you out.

MARLOW
She just sits there all day. What does she think about?

DAVE
Probably Derrick.

MARLOW
Who?

DAVE
Oh nothing, baby. I shouldn’t have said anything. You don’t want to hear about her, remember.

MARLOW
I don’t.

DAVE
Derrick was her fiancé.

MARLOW
So why didn’t they marry?

DAVE
That’s the tragic part. He drown a month before the wedding.

MARLOW
That’s awful.

DAVE
It gets worse. He drown in that lake out there the very day that Mrs. Finch’s father bought her this house.

MARLOW
No.

DAVE
Her father caught Mrs. Finch here at the house that morning. She’d stolen the keys and spent the night here, alone, so she said. But there was an empty row boat out on the lake and Derrick’s car was parked on the other side. They think he must have been rowing out to meet her, but no one knows why he took a boat across the lake instead of just driving around it.

MARLOW
Maybe he was trying to be romantic.

DAVE
Or maybe he was rowing back to the car before the Father caught him there too.

MARLOW
Oh, that’s much more interesting.

DAVE
I thought so. More wine, baby? This bottle’s almost empty.

MARLOW
I’ll get another one. That cellar’s filled with wine Mrs. Finch isn’t drinking.

MARLOW gets up but staggers, visibly dizzy

DAVE
You sure it’s ok to raid the cellar like that?

MARLOW
Why not? She’ll never go down and check it.

DAVE
I don’t think you’re going to make it down there either.

DAVE gets up, also dizzy.

and neither am I.

MARLOW
Where should we go then?

DAVE
The stairs to the bedroom are wider.

MARLOW
And more fun to reach the top of.

DAVE
Right on, baby!

They exit. Blackout.

Scene 17
The curtain is closed. MARLOW enters in robe walks over to the curtain.

MARLOW
Medicine time.

She throws the curtain back to reveal the empty wheel chair. MARLOW screams.

MARLOW
Dave. Dave!

Runs off. Blackout.

Scene 18
Lights up to an empty stage. The curtain is closed. Sounds of love making from offstage. They climax.

DAVE enters in boxers and T-Shirt, stumbling, still drunk.

DAVE
Wow. Whatever made you scream baby, really made you scream. I have got to figure out a way to scare her every night. Whew. I need some food. Build up my strength.

DAVE stumbles around, gets to the curtain door. Throws it open, revealing MARLOW stabbed, bleeding, dead. MRS. FINCH enters.

MRS. FINCH
Come back to bed Derrick. I can’t stand to be away from you another minute.

Blackout. End of Play.

Dr. Scatt's Ye Olde Life Shoppe

2007-09-26T19:10:00.000-07:00

Dr. Scatt's Ye Olde Life Shoppe
By Alan Goy
Winner 2002 Panelist Choice Award Last Frontier Theater Conference
A Ten-Minute Play

Characters:

JANE WHIPPLE: A woman in her late 20’s.
DR. SCATT: A man in his 40’s or 50’s.

Setting:

Present day. The front room of Dr. Scatt’s Ye Olde Life Shoppe. There’s a counter and a table with some chairs.

DR. SCATT stands behind the counter drinking lemonade and reading a magazine. There is a pitcher of lemonade on a tray on the counter. WHIPPLE enters.

DR. SCATT
Welcome ma’am. Take a seat. You look tired. Are you tired? You look tired. You look tired from a long hot day. I’m tired from… I got some lemonade. Let me get you a… You like lemonade? Well, of course you do, who doesn’t like lemonade, am I right?

WHIPPLE
I don’t care for lemonade.

DR. SCATT gets a glass from under the counter and pours a lemonade, puts it on a tray with the pitcher and his lemonade, carries it to the table.

DR. SCATT
Squeezed the lemons myself. It’s hard to find good lemons this time of year. I used to own a lemon tree. Had more lemons… You can’t beat lemonade right off the tree. I miss that lemon tree. Blew down in that big storm two years ago, remember that storm? Almost blew the roof of the store. Say, you look familiar. What did you say your name was?

WHIPPLE
I didn’t. I’m Jane Whipple

DR. SCATT
Jane Whipple, Jane Whipple. Have a seat Jane Whipple.

DR. SCATT sits.

WHIPPLE
No, thank you. I…

DR. SCATT
I’m Dr. Scatt. People call me “Doc”. You can call me… Jane Whipple, Jane Whipple. I never forget a name. In my business you can’t afford to.

WHIPPLE
Mr. Scatt…

DR. SCATT
Doc.

WHIPPLE
Dr. Scatt.

DR. SCATT
No, just Doc. Everyone calls me Doc.

WHIPPLE
Doc, I’ve made a terrible mistake.

DR. SCATT
Got it!

WHIPPLE
What?

DR. SCATT
Jane Whipple! I sold a Jane Whipple to someone a couple weeks ago.

WHIPPLE
Yes, that’s me.

DR. SCATT
A-ha! I remember now. I sold her to a short, mousy girl with bad skin.

WHIPPLE
I do not have bad skin

DR. SCATT
Of course not. You’re prettier than a super model; though, I’ve never really been attracted to supermodels. Too skinny for my tastes. I’ve always liked women with a little meat on their bones. Know what I mean. Kind of like that girl I sold Whipple to. She was a little pudgy.

WHIPPLE
I am not pudgy.

DR. SCATT
No. You look great. You look tired, but great. Ms. Tomlinson looked tired too.

WHIPPLE
Timlinson.

DR. SCATT
No, I’m pretty sure it was Tomlinson

WHIPPLE
Penny Timlinson.

DR. SCATT
I’ve got to disagree with you on that one. I never forget a name.

WHIPPLE
Trust me, it’s Timlinson.

DR. SCATT
I can look it up.

DR. SCATT gets up and goes to the counter.

WHIPPLE
And it will say Timlinson.

DR. SCATT
I remember thinking “Tomlinson” like my cousin Ed who was Uncle Tom’s Son. Uncle Tom had motor boat. Summer’s we used to…

WHIPPLE
It was me, all right! I’m Penny Timlinson. I think I know my own name.

DR. SCATT
You said you were Jane Whipple.

WHIPPLE
I am.

DR. SCATT
Doesn’t sound like you know your name to me. I mean, which is it, Tomlinson or Whipple?

WHIPPLE
Timlinson! I was Penny Timlinson. I came in here two weeks ago and bought Jane Whipple. Now I’m Jane Whipple. Then I was Penny Timlonson.

DR. SCATT
Oh, yeah! Ed was Uncle George’s son. You haven’t touched your lemonade?

WHIPPLE
I want to return Jane Whipple.

DR. SCATT
Come again?

WHIPPLE
I’m not happy with her and I’d like to return her.

DR. SCATT
Sometimes I don’t hear too well. I had a shell go off right next to my ear during the war.

WHIPPLE
Sir.

DR. SCATT
Well, not right next to my ear. Really it was next to Murphy’s….

WHIPPLE
Dr. Scatt.

DR. SCATT
Well, really in Murphy’s…

WHIPPLE
DOC!

DR. SCATT
You’re a little jumpy. What’s eating you?

WHIPPLE
I want to return Jane Whipple.

DR. SCATT
What’s wrong with you? Are you broken?

WHIPPLE
No.

DR. SCATT
You everything I told you you were?

WHIPPLE
I’m everything the brochure promised.

DR. SCATT
No unexpected limps or chronic illness?

WHIPPLE
No.

DR. SCATT
So what’s the problem?

WHIPPLE
I just don’t like her.

DR. SCATT
I see. Correct me if I’m wrong here… You’ve got great skin.

WHIPPLE
Yes.

DR. SCATT
A great body.

WHIPPLE
Yes.

DR. SCATT
You’re outgoing, confident and attractive.

WHIPPLE
I’m all those things.

DR. SCATT
Men are falling all over you. How many men have you had in the 2 weeks you’ve been Jane Whipple?

WHIPPLE
That’s not really…

DR. SCATT
I bet it’s more than you had in a lifetime as Penny Tomlinson.

WHIPPLE
Timlinson, but the point…

DR. SCATT
You’re a lawyer, own your own home, great future, what more do you want?

WHIPPLE
She’s just not me.

DR. SCATT
That’s the point.

WHIPPLE
I’d still like to return her.

DR. SCATT
No returns. Cash only. My only rules. I used to take credit cards but the old lives never paid the bills.

WHIPPLE
Fine, if you want to be difficult, I’ll just have to sue.

DR. SCATT
Excuse me. That’s the old war wound acting up again.

WHIPPLE
I’ll sue you for false advertising.

DR. SCATT
You said you were everything the brochure promised.

WHIPPLE
I don’t like sushi.

DR. SCATT
Neither do I. There’s something unnatural about raw fish.

WHIPPLE
Penny loved sushi. She couldn’t live without it. I miss sushi, and I’ll sue you for everything you’ve got to get it back.

DR. SCATT
Section 14b, item 138 of the Jane Whipple sale agreement clearly designates “sushi in all its forms” as “disliked”. You need more sugar for your lemonade? Mines a little tart.

WHIPPLE
I never signed that agreement. Penny did.

DR. SCATT
Right, and Jane Whipple has no legal right to the life of Penny Tomlinson or Timlinson. I don’t think the lemons were quite ripe yet.

WHIPPLE
Can’t you make an exception just this once, Doc? Please… I wouldn’t have to take Penny back right away. We could have some fun first. You’d like to have some fun with Jane, wouldn’t you?

DR. SCATT
Are you kidding? I know where you’ve been.

WHIPPLE
I can show you a real good time.

DR. SCATT
So can my wife when I get home, and she likes my lemonade. It’s only been 2 weeks. Give yourself a chance.

WHIPPLE
You don’t understand. I hate Jane Whipple. I hate her. She wears these stupid shoes all the time that hurt her feet. She works 60 hours a week and then goes home to her miniature poodle. Yip, yip, yip all the time and that hair cut makes it look like a toy. I can’t eat sushi, or fried foods. Fuck, she won’t even eat frozen yogurt. I need to spend an evening watching a trashy romance on TV while eating Ben & Jerry’s with my cats. She’s allergic to cats! I can’t handle her busy social schedule with lots of other fake plastic people. These! These right here… Aren’t real. Nothing about her is real. Her friends, lovers, tits, hair, all fake. I need my friends back. I need to talk to Margaret on the phone for again. At least Penny had Margaret. She wasn’t very exciting, but they could talk for hours about anything and she was always there for her. Whipple has nothing!

DR. SCATT
Except all the things Penny wanted.

WHIPPLE
I was wrong.

DR. SCATT
Change.

WHIPPLE
If I’m going to change, I’d rather change Penny.

DR. SCATT
I can’t allow returns, but, if you’re absolutely certain you want to be Penny again, I can sell her back to you.

WHIPPLE
Really?

DR. SCATT
Of course, that’s not a problem at all.

WHIPPLE
Why didn’t you say so?

DR. SCATT
I just did.

WHIPPLE
That’s… that’s…that’s a scam. I like that.

DR. SCATT
I’ve got to make money somehow.

WHIPPLE
Penny’s appalled, but Jane… We could still have some fun before we bring Penny back, if you want.

DR. SCATT
The answer’s still no. You’re too skinny. Let’s see here. Tom, Tomkins, Tompkins… No Tomlinson.

WHIPPLE
Timlinson!

DR. SCATT
Oh, right. Timlinson. Here it is. Oh dear. I was afraid of that.

WHIPPLE
What?

DR. SCATT
I sold her the day I sold you…

WHIPPLE
To who?

DR. SCATT
To Jane Whipple.

Silence.
WHIPPLE
Huh. I guess Jane’s smarter than I thought.

DR. SCATT
She’ll probably come back to return her. Almost everyone does. That’s why I don’t allow returns. I’d never make money otherwise.

WHIPPLE
No, I don’t think so. I… I wouldn’t.

WHIPPLE takes a long drink of her lemonade.

This is good lemonade.

DR. SCATT
You think so? I could make some more if you like.

WHIPPLE
That would be good.

DR. SCATT
I’ve got a grapefruit in back. I can make pink lemonade. My Aunt Adelaide always made pink lemonade, but she used to use grape juice to pink it up. Uncle Earl, he used to make it with grapefruit, I always liked that better. Earl had two kids, my cousins….

The lights fade slowly as DR. SCATT talks and WHIPPLE drinks her lemonade listening.

End of Play

Super Surreal Sunday

2007-09-18T18:03:00.001-07:00

By the time Super Bowl Sunday rolled around, I was going mildly insane after a week spent cooped up in my apartment with very little social interaction. Why did I spend a week alone in my apartment? Well, that’s not really important. Let’s just say I was recovering from some minor surgery that I didn’t want the whole world to know about.

The point is I was going pretty fucking batty. All I wanted to do was hang out with friends, drink, and watch da Bears. Unfortunately very few of my close friends drink, and the few that do aren’t into sports. Rather than lose my remaining grip on this thing I claim as sanity, I headed out to a local bar. The Blackthorn, an Irish pub I used to frequent last spring. In fact, I still had a free drink coupon I’d won on a quiz night, and a good thing too, as I have no money.

Every bar I pass on the way to the Blackthorn is spilling over with people. The Blackthorn is a ghost town. Two people are there, plus Grace, the young Irish bartender. They didn’t even realize they had the TV on the wrong channel to watch the game, and this was about 2 minutes before kickoff. Grace fights an agonizingly long battle with the satellite remote but gets the game on in time for the coin toss. (In spite of the near mathematical impossibility of it, the NFC has won 10 straight coin tosses.)

I look down the end of the bar and suddenly there’s someone else there: a young woman in her 20’s who must have been out back smoking when I arrived. I had to do a double take because at first I didn’t think she was wearing a shirt. She wasn’t, really. I mean, I’m sure it was sold to her as a shirt, but it was more or less a piece of green fabric that came down over her shoulders and around her waist where it tied in the front, barely covering her breasts. I must say this was not a flattering look for her, given her bust size, as it more or less made her breasts disappear.

But I digress. She sees me double take and the flirt was on. The Bears run the opening kick-off back for a touchdown and she goes crazy (as do I). She jumps into my arms hooting. Things settle. She returns to her end of the bar and I sit back down trying not to be in pain from the unfortunate place her hip hit me (think “incision”).

She’s Irish. If I couldn’t tell that from looking at her with her red hair, brown eyes, and perky button nose, her thick Irish brogue would have tipped me off. She’s talking to the bartender and across the bar to me and finally says to me “You, come over here.”

I settle in next to her as she attaches herself to me. Half the time I don’t understand her, not only because of her accent, but because she’s completely plastered, a fact for which she keeps apologizing. She is Collette, Grace the bartender’s younger sister.

She rambles on and on about various things, including the fact that two complete strangers had commented on her “small tits” that morning. I say nothing. As we talk, I half watch the game and mostly watch her. She’s fun and crazy. Grace brings us free shots.

Then I find out the piece of information that I should have seen as inevitable, given the state of my life of late: She has a boyfriend. Not only that, she has a boyfriend named “Alan”. How’s that for a universe with a sense of humor?

We continue to talk and laugh. She continues to lean on me and flirt. We talk at great length about what she’s going to get Grace for her birthday next week. She’s agonizing over two options: a camera or Coacella tickets. Every now and then she’ll look at me all serious and say “You’re not getting anywhere with me tonight.” Then Grace brings us more shots.

Collette decides she needs to move on and meet up with her friends at the Kezar pub. She also decides I am to walk her there. Grace (and, admittedly, even I) try to convince her to just take a cab. I mean the girl was schnokered. As she’s standing there insisting she’s ok to walk, she nearly pukes on the bar. Seriously. But she insists.

Then she looks at me all serious and asks “Are you psycho?” She asks Grace, “Is he psycho?” I insist I’m not and I can tell from looking at Grace that while she isn’t altogether comfortable with her shit-faced sister leaving the bar with me, I’m not the scariest guy her sister’s ever left a bar with. And she knows better than to argue.

So here I am babysitting an ass-drunk Irish girl while I myself am drunker than I’d planned on getting that day. She hooks her arm in mine, and we walk. Fortunately it was a beautiful day and she’s highly entertaining. Every now and then she looks at me all serious as if she’s calculating the odds of whether or not I’m an axe murder. She tries to walk on her own but can’t keep a straight path. She hooks her arm back in mine. “You’re not getting anywhere with me tonight.”

I’m really not trying to. At this point, I just want to make sure she makes it to Kezar without stepping in front of a bus. I’ll admit she’s damn cute though.

We get to 4th Ave and Irving, some 6 blocks from where we started and about a third of the way to Kezar, when she stops to smoke a cigarette. We sit down on the curb and then she insists we lay down on the sidewalk. She stretches my arm out underneath her for a pillow and rests against me. I must say, it was a beautifully surreal moment, having an attractive (and drunk) Irish girl (whom I’d just met) essentially lying in my arms on the warm sidewalk looking up at the blue sky on a sunny day listening to the birds chirp in the tree next to us. Even she commented on the birds. I’ll never forget that moment.

I mean, when does that happen? Ever?

Apparently, Super Bowl Sunday at about 5 o’clock on the corner of 4th and Irving.

An N-Judah train goes by. She cheers at it and sort of flashes her breasts to the train, but not really, but I see them. They were nice.

She finishes her smoke and we sit back up. She curls her knees up in front of her and starts to tell me about her boyfriend. They’ve been together for years, but he doesn’t really treat her all that well. Grace hates him.

“I love him to bits though.”

“Does he love you?”

She doesn’t know. She looks at me all sad and then looks away. He pushes her around, literally, physically. The other day he pushed her and never apologized for it. (I don’t think he hits her. She didn’t have any visible bruises and given that most of her torso was visible, I don’t think he hits her, yet.) That morning he told her to fuck off. That’s why she’d been drinking since 7am.

Her mood significantly changed at this point, she decides she doesn’t want to go to Kezar. She’s going to her friend Sara’s only a few blocks away. She doesn’t need me to walk with her anymore. I offer. I consider insisting as I’m not sure I should leave her, but I already know better than to argue with her. She continues down Irving. I turn around and head back to the Blackthorn.

I tell Grace where I left her. She calls her and by then Collette has arrived safely at Sara’s. I have another beer and talk to Grace for a while. She thanks me for looking after her sister.

The Bears lose.

I go home.

I’m not getting anywhere with her tonight, except 4th and Irving.

Top

2007-09-18T18:00:00.000-07:00

Now, Darcie stands atop the rock, the rock she calls “Top o’ the World”, or just “Top”. Top topped the top of a tall crag of rock on the oceanside. Darcie looks out at the deep blue ocean as it rushes in against the rocks so far below. The blue sky peppered with white flakey clouds so mirrors the blue ocean with its scattered white-caped waves, Darcie thinks she can’t tell which way is up or down.

She came here to think, to let her mind stretch out across the ocean and become the world. She came here to think about love and boys and Bobby Swanson. She came here a lot. She came here the night she’d found out about her dad.

Darcie went to high school and got good grades. She had no interest in rushing into adulthood as so many of her classmates had. She had no interest in being a child either. That left her with no place to be.

She cut her blond hair short, almost shaved. She dyed it blue to match her eyes. She pierced an eyebrow and her nipples, but wore clothes that hid her breasts. She looked boyish but liked boys. All the would-be lesbians fell for her. All the straight boys thought she was a freak. All the would-be gay boys made friends with her.

She was desperately lonely.

Except she had her dad. They ate together, breakfast and dinner. He’d cook her breakfast and himself dinner in the morning. She’d cook herself dinner and him breakfast at night.

“Goodnight pumpkin.”

“Goodnight dad.”

He’d wink at her deep blue eyes and close the door behind him as he left for the night shift. She’d do her homework, watch late-night TV and crawl into bed. Every night as she closed her eyes, she closed her ears and shut out the rest of the house. After years alone at night in the big old house, she’d had to learn to quiet her imagination and ignore the sounds. She didn’t really hear screams, footsteps, or moans. She heard creaky pipes, tree branches, and the wind. They all became white noise or else she’d never sleep.

One night, when she was 12, she awoke at about 3am from a very long dream about scrambled eggs. She could never get them fluffy enough, but the dream had given her an idea and a craving for eggs. Unable to fall back to sleep, she leapt out of bed and scuttled down to the kitchen. As she struggled noisily to get the right pan out of the cupboard, she froze. She only noticed the light coming from under the basement door because it had just gone out, but as she stood there looking at the darkness that filled the gap between the door and the floor, she knew a second ago that space had been lit. Standing in her bare feet on the cold kitchen tile in her pajamas, she suddenly became aware of how alone and exposed she was. She freaked out and screamed all the way back to her room, where she spent the night with her lights on clutching the frying pan.

“Oh, I’m sorry pumpkin,” her dad explained the next day, “I keep a light on a timer in the basement sometimes so it looks like there’s someone here besides just you. I should have told you about that.” He smiled. She lived for his smile. The only reason she bothered to study in school and get A’s was because she knew he’d smile when he saw her grades. He hung the moon for her. She loved him so.

The next night she woke herself up just before three and climbed down the old creaky steps to the kitchen to look at the light coming from under the basement door. At exactly three, the light went out, and she went back upstairs to sleep. She did that every night for a few weeks. Every now and then she still did it. It comforted her. It made her feel less alone.

Halloween night a year earlier, a year earlier from now as she stands on top of Top looking out over the ocean, her dad winked her a blue-eyed good-bye and she waited. She waited half an hour, put on her costume, and went out on the street where Bobby Swanson and Maggie Links picked her up for the party.

Maggie felt like she owed Darcie. They’d worked together on an English project and gotten an A, entirely because of Darcie. Maggie, the beautiful and popular girl, decided she owed Darcie and invited her to the big Halloween party. Darcie wouldn’t have gone, except for Bobby. She’d had a crush on Bobby for years. His smile reminded her of her dad’s.

Bobby dressed as a pimp, Maggie and Darcie as ho’s. In a blue and black corset to match her hair and a short leather skirt with torn fish-nets, Darcie felt extremely uncomfortable. She’d never shown so much cleavage, but when Bobby’s eyes lit up and he said “Wow” at the sight of her, she couldn’t help but smile and feel a flush rush to her cheeks. She couldn’t look at him.

Party. Loud music. “No, thanks. I don’t drink,” she says. Crowds. People. Masks. Heat. “Don’t touch me!” she yells. Devils. Vampires. Gouls. Smoke. Maggie vomiting over the toilet.

Darcie sat on a boulder in a dark corner of the backyard catching occasionally wisps of the ocean air. She sat alone staring off into the distance warning people away from her with her eyes.

“There you are,” said Bobby with a smile walking up to her. “You hiding?”

She smiled and tried to look at him, but looked away. “Yeah, I guess. I’m not much of a party person.”

“Yeah, it can be a bit much, can’t it?” He sat down next to her on the boulder, his warm body brushing up against hers, his arm around her shoulder. “I always need to take little breaks now and then or I get over stimulated. You know what I mean?” He looked at her and smiled with her dad’s smile and eyes almost as blue.

“Yeah, I do.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. It didn’t take much, not much at all, and they were making out. She couldn’t believe it. She was making out with Bobby Swanson. Her heart exploded and for a second, a brief second, she didn’t feel so alone. She let him take her, right there in the dark corner of the backyard in the cold. She had sex with him, and she loved it. She imagined him leaving Maggie to be her boyfriend. They’d have dinner with her dad. They’d spend weekends at the ocean. They’d be happy.

But then they went back inside. Bobby found Maggie in the bathroom and tenderly cleaned her up. He took care of her and helped her into the car and they headed home. Bobby and Maggie held hands sweetly in the front seat while Darcie sat in the back twisting with jealousy, feeling foolish and more alone than ever. She counted the moments until they dropped her off and she could cry.

Quietly weeping her way into the house, the clock in the living room caught her eye; it wasn’t quite three. She walked into the kitchen and stood in the dark watching the light under the basement door. Her breathing deepened. The tears slowed. She watched as the digital clock on the microwave turned to 3:00.

But the light didn’t go out. She stood there for 20 minutes watching the light stay on. Now she could swear she heard noises. Faint ones. A scuffling, or a scraping. Something, faint, but there. There in the basement. Quietly she crossed the distance to the door and reached out to turn the cold knob. The door swung open silently revealing rough wooden stairs. The sounds grew louder.

As she took her first steps down the stairs she had two thoughts. The first was the sudden realization that she’d never, in all these years, ever gone down into the basement. Why not? She didn’t know. It had never been off-limits. She’d just never gone down there. The second thought was that the wooden steps, the wooden steps in her otherwise creaky old house, made no sound at all beneath her weight.

She leaned against the cold outside wall to the left as she walked. To her right, were shelves littered with dust and cob webs, paint cans and old boxes. About halfway down the shelves stopped and the stairs opened up into the basement below. There she paused, struggling to identify the sounds. Rather than let her feet be visible first, she bent down and peered into the basement with just one eye.

Two hours later, her back aching, her stomach sick, she turned around and went back upstairs. She closed the door to the basement silently behind her and walked out the front door. She didn’t know where she was going, but she thought she might never come back. As her legs propelled her forward in the darkness, she replayed the nightmarish images in her head trying to somehow make them not be real, but they wouldn’t melt away.

She stood on top of Top in the dead of night looking out over the black ocean and the black sky. Bending over, she vomited off the cliff into the ocean so far below. She scraped her knees on the rocks. She could still feel the messy soreness of Bobby between her legs. She grabbed onto the rocks with her hands and screamed into the sea as her tears added salt water to salt water.

She went back home and went through the motions of a regular morning. She couldn’t look at her dad as he cooked. She couldn’t stomach the scrambled eggs he made for her. His smile made her sick.

She went to school, but couldn’t face anyone, especially Bobby. She caught a glimpse of him on her way in through the main entrance. He completely ignored her, his arm around Maggie, talking to a circle of admirers.

She hid in the bathroom all day, shaving off the rest of her blue hair with a razor she’d bought on the way to school. She cut herself a few times, but let the warm blood flow down her scalp and stain her shirt. She went into a stall and stripped naked. She shaved herself completely bald, even her eyebrows. She didn’t know what else to do.

“You look good, pumpkin.”

She didn’t answer. He was always so supportive. He was always so perfect; she wanted to scream. After he’d winked himself away, but before he came back, she returned to the basement. She found the knives, the tools, the chemicals, the blood-stains, and worst of all, the graves. Standing there, staring in disbelief at the remnants of the horror, her world, which had been struggling to stay whole all day, suddenly snapped in two, clean down the center. The two halves fell away leaving her there alone in the middle with nothing.

She walked back up the stairs, picked up the phone, and called 911.

A year later, Darcie went back to the same Halloween party. She didn’t dress up. She was the costume. The daughter of the monster, still shaved, still alone.

She found Maggie and Bobby. She found them and slipped drugs into their drinks. She coaxed them into her car and drove up to the middle of nowhere patch of road where you park to walk up to the top of Top. By now they’d both passed out, and it took her considerable time and effort to drag them both up the hill.

She stripped them naked and lay them on the rock on top of Top as the pale dawn broke. Darcie pulled out a long kitchen knife and stared down at them, hating them. She might never have known were it not for them. She’d still have him. She’d still have her dad, if no one else.

But then he would have kept killing. The only man she’d ever loved who’d lover her back would have kept killing.

“I’m sorry pumpkin. It never had anything to do with you. I’ll always love you.”

She brought the edge of the blade to Bobby’s neck, against the rough stubble of his hair. She could feel his pulse through the knife. She could see her dad in the basement covered in blood. She wanted to drain their blood all over the rock and bathe herself in it like he did. She wanted to know why he did it. A year and a thousand thoughts later she still had no idea. She didn’t know what else to do, but do it herself. She wanted to feel the warmth.

“I’m sorry pumpkin.”

“I’m sorry too.”

She stood up and used the knife to cut her head, not deeply, but enough to let the blood flow down her scalp. Enough to feel the warmth. She dropped the knife into the ocean, scrambled down the hill, and drove away. Maggie and Bobby awoke stranded and scared a long time later.

Now Darcie stands alone on top of Top trying to find the place where the ocean meets the sky. The blue sky peppered with white flakey clouds so mirrors the blue ocean with its scattered white-caped waves, Darcie can’t tell which way is up or down. The world spins and she steps off the cliff, off the top of Top, to see which way she falls.

Meg Loved Halloween

2007-09-18T17:56:00.000-07:00

Meg loved Halloween.

Every year she bought whole sized candy bars to give to the kids, which always made her the neighborhood favorite.

Ding Dong. “Trick or treat!”

“Oh, my! What a scary vampire. Here’s your candy!”

She loved to see how creative the kids got with their costumes. Every year she thought “That was the best Halloween ever! How can next year’s possibly measure up?” But somehow, someway, the costumes became more elaborate, more exciting, and the day outdid itself yet again.

“Trick or treat” were her three favorite words.

Ding Dong. “Trick or treat!”

“Oh, my! The Fantastic Four, my heroes! Here’s your candy!”

Meg would curl up on the sofa in front of the fire with a good scary book, maybe Dracula, maybe The Werewolf of Paris, or maybe just a book of short stories by Poe. She’d snack on popcorn and wait for the doorbell to ring. She’d leap up to see what scary costume awaited her behind the door.

Ding Dong. “Trick or treat!”

“Oh, my! A Christmas tree and a clown! Here’s your candy!”

As the sun went down, Meg would open up a bottle of wine. The kids would get a little older, and the costumes more elaborate and gory.

Ding Dong. “Trick or treat!”

“Oh, my! A murderous troll with a severed head! Here’s your candy!”

She enjoyed it all so much. No other holiday brought neighborhoods together like Halloween. It was her favorite day of the year.

Ding Dong. “Trick or treat!”

“Oh, my! A devil in a black suit! Here’s your candy!”

“I’m not here for candy.”

“Excuse me?”

The man said nothing further, but stood there in his neatly pressed pin-stripped black suit. The edges of his red lips turned up just slightly as if her were smirking, but his serious penetrating red eyes belied that possibility.

“Would you like a candy bar?” Meg was little confused. Tricksters were uncommon in this neighborhood; though, not unheard of. She hadn’t run across any today.

The man continued to stand there silently, unmoving. Meg began to doubt he had even spoken at all.

“Well, if you don’t want candy, then you best run along.” She stepped slowly backwards, paused for what seemed like an eternity, and slowly closed the door. She shivered, grabbed an afghan off the back of the couch, wrapped herself and sat back down with her book.

She must have fallen asleep, as she awoke with a start.

Ding Dong.

“Oh my! …”

But there was no one at the door. She checked her watch. It was almost midnight. The wine and the fire had made sleep irresistible, apparently. Even now she had trouble shaking it off as she stared out the door. Not sure how long she’d been standing there, she resolved to go bed. She closed and locked the door for the night and began poking away the last remnants of the fire.

“I’m not here for candy.”

Meg jumped and turned around, but saw no one behind her. Her eyes searched her dimly lit room, but saw nothing. Perhaps she imagined it. “Yes,” she thought “I must have.” Another Halloween outdid itself, she thought.

Slowly she stood up, and walked to her bedroom. Creaking the door handle open, she stepped inside, closing the door firmly behind her. A thin layer of light slipped beneath her bedroom door and illuminated the floor of her living room with a puddle of unbroken light.

The shape of a foot stepped into the light, but made no ripples. Another step waded closer to the door, and as the third began to fall, the light went out leaving blackness behind.

A door handle creaked.

“I’m not here for candy.”

About Me

2007-09-18T17:40:00.001-07:00

This page will contain information about me, if I chose not to use Blogger's built in "About Me" page.

Why Experiment Farm?

2007-09-18T17:39:00.002-07:00

This page will explain the name "Experiment Farm".

The Deadworks

2007-09-18T17:39:00.001-07:00

This page will contain links and information about The Deadworks.

Improv

2007-09-18T17:38:00.000-07:00

This page will contain links to my improv related activities.

Novels

2007-09-18T17:37:00.000-07:00

This page will contain links to my novels.

Long Plays

2007-09-18T17:36:00.002-07:00

This page will contain links to my longer plays.

Short Plays

2007-09-18T17:36:00.001-07:00

TEN-MINUTE PLAYS:
Dr. Scatt's Ye Olde Life Shoppe: Winner Panelist Choice Award Last Frontier Theater Conference.

ONE-ACT PLAYS:
The Lake: Performed in San Francisco and Bologna, Italy.

Short Fiction

2007-09-18T17:35:00.000-07:00

HALLOWEEN STORIES:
2010: Apartment 13
2009: Johnny's Road
2008: Dark House
2007: Halloween Everyday
2006: Top
2005: Meg Loved Halloween
2002: Sam

MEMOIR
Super Surreal Sunday