Pub Scene
Flying Ship
Ropes to get down and up
Battle
Searching
"Where are the wolf druids? We know there are at leas' three of em' ere'. "
Wolf Druids
Seers
Held Captive Prisoner
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Rat
The room was cold. There windows were mostly boarded up, and their allowances led the brisk night air into the house. He slept on a mattress on the floor along with his three brothers. The four girls all slept in the opposite room, also on the floor. Though he was half asleep, he felt the biting cold of the outdoors on his fingers. He was too cold and tired to fully awaken and warm himself further. His toes were numb, and his nose and ears were practically frozen. There was only a thin blanket, and the three boys huddled together for warmth in the bed.
The next morning the cocks began to crow in the yard with the breaking sun, and he stretched out his arms above his head. He wiggled his fingers, and felt a stinging pain. Upon further inspection, the tip of his left index finger was gone, and blood had dried from the small stump down his palm and trickled onto his wrist ever so slightly.
His mother said that a rat had given him a "nibble" during the night, and she cried for the remainder of the day at how awful their predicament had become. Her children were food for the rats, and were so frozen that not even the severance of a finger could have been felt to them during the night.
She stayed up all through the night for two days and guarded the beds, watching her flock sleep to keep them from the rats. She went into town and brought home a big brown tom cat to find the beast, but to no avail. The perpetrator seemed to vanish into the cold just as her last remaining shred of dignity had disappeared since her husband had left all of two years ago.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
girls v. boys
There are girls- no, not girls- young women- who are getting married. I went to high school with them and they are getting married. They are giving up careers and an education. They may not know it yet. They may not exactly realize what they are giving up. They may be perfectly content to simply give all of that up in the name of love. In the name of their relationships. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe they aren't giving it up. But there are numbers that suggest that it is so.
I have not been so eager to give up an education, my independence. What confidence grows in these others that I lack? Are they so sure that nothing will ever happen to their betrothed that they needn't ever learn to care for themselves?
I am not exactly independent now. My boyfriend pays most of the bills, supports me in my work and my strive to attend college. He doesn't need me in the same way I need him. Sure, I cook and clean and do that sort of nonsense. Is it entirely necessary though? He could live on his own as a slob, and still be happy. I cannot live on my own. I cannot support myself in the same way that he can. I lack even the most basic knowledge. I cannot change the oil in my car, and I cannot open pickle jars. Surely, if I was financially sound enough, I could pay someone to do those sort of odds and ends jobs that I lack the knowledge or strength to do.
Do men need women in the same manner though? I'm sure there are women who can change their own oil and open their own jars. But it seems that particularly in times or recession and for recent graduates who are just starting their own lives independently, men have the upper hand. They can do unskilled labor jobs and start their own lives in a much easier way and at a quicker pace than girls who do unskilled jobs. There are more labor jobs that require heavier lifting, etc. that women are not as apt as men to do.
Young women must attend college, putting themselves at a disadvantage. They are going into debt at a quicker rate than their counterparts. They will come out of college, and still be paid less. They will depend on either their parents or a man to support them while they are in college. Because they did not have the skills or strength to do an unskilled job.
The question remains how to change this. Surely one could marry into independence from their parents and into the dependence of their spouse. If a woman is lucky enough to receive a high paying job, she can retain her own independence, but what if she is not able to do this? She will struggle and try to live above her means, or live according to her means. It will take a significantly longer time for her to be able to save the same amount of money to buy a home, etc than a man who was able to find a higher paying unskilled labor job. The gender gap is as wide now as it has been in the last ten to twenty years in America, and it isn't readily closing any time soon.
I have not been so eager to give up an education, my independence. What confidence grows in these others that I lack? Are they so sure that nothing will ever happen to their betrothed that they needn't ever learn to care for themselves?
I am not exactly independent now. My boyfriend pays most of the bills, supports me in my work and my strive to attend college. He doesn't need me in the same way I need him. Sure, I cook and clean and do that sort of nonsense. Is it entirely necessary though? He could live on his own as a slob, and still be happy. I cannot live on my own. I cannot support myself in the same way that he can. I lack even the most basic knowledge. I cannot change the oil in my car, and I cannot open pickle jars. Surely, if I was financially sound enough, I could pay someone to do those sort of odds and ends jobs that I lack the knowledge or strength to do.
Do men need women in the same manner though? I'm sure there are women who can change their own oil and open their own jars. But it seems that particularly in times or recession and for recent graduates who are just starting their own lives independently, men have the upper hand. They can do unskilled labor jobs and start their own lives in a much easier way and at a quicker pace than girls who do unskilled jobs. There are more labor jobs that require heavier lifting, etc. that women are not as apt as men to do.
Young women must attend college, putting themselves at a disadvantage. They are going into debt at a quicker rate than their counterparts. They will come out of college, and still be paid less. They will depend on either their parents or a man to support them while they are in college. Because they did not have the skills or strength to do an unskilled job.
The question remains how to change this. Surely one could marry into independence from their parents and into the dependence of their spouse. If a woman is lucky enough to receive a high paying job, she can retain her own independence, but what if she is not able to do this? She will struggle and try to live above her means, or live according to her means. It will take a significantly longer time for her to be able to save the same amount of money to buy a home, etc than a man who was able to find a higher paying unskilled labor job. The gender gap is as wide now as it has been in the last ten to twenty years in America, and it isn't readily closing any time soon.
Follow my blog with Bloglovin
<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/7771245/?claim=kjusyyj6cd6">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Biology Teacher
According to a British study, plants can recognize other plants and communicate with them.
Apparently, plants communicate by clicking sounds which can be "heard" through the roots. The roots take in the vibrations of the clicking sounds to hear messages of other plants and predators. Although it is not exactly clear how the plants produce the sounds, it is clear that the sounds are used for communication.
Our green fellowmen can also recognize members of their own family. Plants which would otherwise compete for resources are known to share resources such as sunlight, soil, and space if the competitor is one of their own kin. This is a common trait in the evolution of different species of animals. Although the individual may be losing food and other resources by helping his
A plant will grow taller in order to stop the sun's rays from reaching the competitor, effectively intercepting the vital energy through its own leaves. However, studies suggest that if the other plants in the area are related, they will attempt to share the soil, and will even grow away from each other's leaves in order to share sunlight.
Source: my biology teacher.
Source: my biology teacher.
So
This is going to be my new blog, where I'm going to be writing short stories and just whatever I feel like doing.
Whoever is +1 ing my stuff- thanks! lol. Stop being anonymous so that I can see who you are!
I'm really bored. The worst thing is staring at a blank page and not knowing what to write.
Whoever is +1 ing my stuff- thanks! lol. Stop being anonymous so that I can see who you are!
I'm really bored. The worst thing is staring at a blank page and not knowing what to write.
First Year
Late nights. Early mornings. Late mornings and early nights. We don't always go to class. We sometimes fall asleep. We procrastinate, but not always. We work hard. We work part time, and no one respects us. We're on a budget, but we're living life on our own for the first time. and its wonderful and it's scary. We're independent and at the same time so dependent on everyone and everything. We need each other to survive and to thrive. Study groups, sports teams, and sororities. We are stronger as a team.
Professors and parents laugh at us and call us children, but we know that we are wonderful and free. We drink and study. We live in libraries and in frat houses. But it takes all kinds, and the experience is worth it- though not the price if you ask any of us.
We cry about our lost loves, our homesickness, we miss our moms and dads. But we get stronger. We make new friends, it comes easily enough. We are all thrown into this big melting pot called the university, and though we all may not say it, we truly know that we are all one in the same. Here for our own reasons. To prove to the world and ourselves that we have this in us. The drive and inspiration that is needed to not only succeed but to thrive. To do all that is offered to us, and turn nothing down.
Our time is valuable and limited at the most. We go to games, and dance, and sing, and fuck, and fight. The pain is our reward, but we fight through it. We know that in four years this will all be over, and we must have lived through it and survived. It is easy enough.
We strive and we take drugs to stay awake and study and learn. We write papers and get papercuts, arthritis and hunched backs. We wear glasses because our eyesight is going bad from all the reading. We don't care. We gain weight and lose it all again. We run out for late night pizzas and snacks. and we eat pancakes in the middle of the day because breakfast is served until 3pm.
Everything is backwards and everything is normal to us and we don't question it. This is our way of life, and we are all in it it together. We step on each other and stab each other in the back and cut throats to get to the top in the end. And we'll know that it was all worth it. In the end.
Professors and parents laugh at us and call us children, but we know that we are wonderful and free. We drink and study. We live in libraries and in frat houses. But it takes all kinds, and the experience is worth it- though not the price if you ask any of us.
We cry about our lost loves, our homesickness, we miss our moms and dads. But we get stronger. We make new friends, it comes easily enough. We are all thrown into this big melting pot called the university, and though we all may not say it, we truly know that we are all one in the same. Here for our own reasons. To prove to the world and ourselves that we have this in us. The drive and inspiration that is needed to not only succeed but to thrive. To do all that is offered to us, and turn nothing down.
Our time is valuable and limited at the most. We go to games, and dance, and sing, and fuck, and fight. The pain is our reward, but we fight through it. We know that in four years this will all be over, and we must have lived through it and survived. It is easy enough.
We strive and we take drugs to stay awake and study and learn. We write papers and get papercuts, arthritis and hunched backs. We wear glasses because our eyesight is going bad from all the reading. We don't care. We gain weight and lose it all again. We run out for late night pizzas and snacks. and we eat pancakes in the middle of the day because breakfast is served until 3pm.
Everything is backwards and everything is normal to us and we don't question it. This is our way of life, and we are all in it it together. We step on each other and stab each other in the back and cut throats to get to the top in the end. And we'll know that it was all worth it. In the end.
Commuters
Early mornings, Coffee Thermoses, napkins, messy cars. We've all had that day with bad traffic, construction, and spilled coffee. We spend our morning in our cars. In rain or shine or snow. When it's hot, we roll up our sleeves, and roll down the windows. When it's cold, we dust off our cars and shoulders before we have our morning Joe in the car. We roll into the parking lot an no one knows of the journey we've had. The adventure. We are the commuters.
We sing to ourselves and to the traffic lights. We sing to you though you may not like it. We text and call despite the law. Get get traffic tickets, speeding tickets, and parking tickets. Our lives are hectic and messy. We are always running short on time and gas money. We have multiple reward cards-just in case, and the morning crew at the gas station know our name and just the order to place.We are the commuters.
We get flat tires and run late more than early. We dodge slowpokes and the cops. We eat junk food out of vending machines and eat meals that spin for hours on rotisserie wheels.We eat brown bagged lunches and cold dinners when we stay late, but at least we saved 10 cents on gas.
We save money, let our kids go to a better school, live in a better neighborhood. We live with our parents and on our own and it's wonderful and dreary. We commute for all these reasons, and we are paying the price with our time. But it's a wonderful journey, and we are all one of the same.
We sing to ourselves and to the traffic lights. We sing to you though you may not like it. We text and call despite the law. Get get traffic tickets, speeding tickets, and parking tickets. Our lives are hectic and messy. We are always running short on time and gas money. We have multiple reward cards-just in case, and the morning crew at the gas station know our name and just the order to place.We are the commuters.
We get flat tires and run late more than early. We dodge slowpokes and the cops. We eat junk food out of vending machines and eat meals that spin for hours on rotisserie wheels.We eat brown bagged lunches and cold dinners when we stay late, but at least we saved 10 cents on gas.
We save money, let our kids go to a better school, live in a better neighborhood. We live with our parents and on our own and it's wonderful and dreary. We commute for all these reasons, and we are paying the price with our time. But it's a wonderful journey, and we are all one of the same.
Frank
Frank laid alone in his bed. It was the middle of the day, but he had to sleep so he could be awake for work in the evening. He had been working a night shift for some time now, but he had only been working as a temporary employee for the last eight years. He lived at home with his mother although he sometimes resented her presence. He should have been able to have his own place, but since his heart attack, he didn't have the money. He paid his mom the rent that he could be using on an apartment, and in return she left him alone and kept quiet when she disagreed with him.
He didn't like people who knew everything. His two daughters both thought they knew everything, but they didn't know much. He had gone to college to receive a two year degree, but Clare had forced him to drop out early because he didn't have time for her. He really resented Clare for everything that she had done to him. She took the house, kicked him out, wouldn't let him see the girls.
Thinking about all of this, Frank felt a tightness in his chest. Alison only talked to him when she wanted money, and Nicole only talked to him- well, never. He felt the tightness in his chest tighten like a cord being wound tighter, and tighter, until it finally snapped.
Frank wouldn't have to think about things anymore.
He didn't like people who knew everything. His two daughters both thought they knew everything, but they didn't know much. He had gone to college to receive a two year degree, but Clare had forced him to drop out early because he didn't have time for her. He really resented Clare for everything that she had done to him. She took the house, kicked him out, wouldn't let him see the girls.
Thinking about all of this, Frank felt a tightness in his chest. Alison only talked to him when she wanted money, and Nicole only talked to him- well, never. He felt the tightness in his chest tighten like a cord being wound tighter, and tighter, until it finally snapped.
Frank wouldn't have to think about things anymore.
Clare
Clare was a girl when her parents finally divorced after years of fighting. As she stepped over the trash that littered her un-tiled kitchen floor, she thought of her father, Alfred. Her family thought that Alfred had spoiled her, but Clare disagreed. She made her way through the kitchen, stepping over trash bags and mail that covered the floor. On her way out, she put down three cans of opened cat food for her cats, and said goodbye to her companions for the afternoon.
After her aunt's relentless phone calls, Clare finally drove out to the grave where her father was laid to rest. She pulled the truck up to the road, and with a click and a pop, the engine stopped. She had some flowers that she would lay on the grave, and she would finally take down the ones from Christmas since it was now April and time for Easter flowers. She didn't visit her father often, but when she did she was reminded of her parents' failed relationship and her childhood.
The girls had been calling her all day, and she was getting a bit annoyed. She vaguely wondered what they wanted, but she was busy thinking at the moment. She laid the flowers on the grave, and turned to leave.
She sat in the truck for a few minutes, looking at the red stone grave of her father. She didn't visit her mother's grave often although it was much closer to home to visit.
She thought of the girls again briefly. They had deserted her, and she didn't deserve that. She knew she wasn't the best mother. At times, she even thought she was the worst, but she had tried to at least provide opportunities for them to succeed if nothing else. She knew she didn't provide them with the best home life.
Then her thoughts immediately went to Frank, and she was both disappointed and filled with rage. He never even told her he loved her all those years. He was constantly in and out, it was no wonder to her that her life had turned upside down. It wasn't fair. He left just in the same way that her father left her with Zetta. Zetta the unloving alcoholic, with her harsh punishments and strict rules. The other kids had always laughed at the way Zetta had made her dress. She wasn't allowed out with the other kids, and it wasn't until she got older that her mother and she had any type of real relationship at all. Her father had become harsher as she got older from the fights. He reminded her of her weight and any acne she might have had. It didn't seem as though she could please both her parents at the same time no matter if she didn't take any sides.
Thinking of her sometimes unstable childhood home, Clare suddenly felt exhausted.She had worked an 18 hour shift the night before, and she hadn't exactly slept much yet. She turned the key in the ignition, and started to drive home. The car veering slightly from time to time riding the rumble strips lining the highway until she reached a fatal curve where she could finally rest.
After her aunt's relentless phone calls, Clare finally drove out to the grave where her father was laid to rest. She pulled the truck up to the road, and with a click and a pop, the engine stopped. She had some flowers that she would lay on the grave, and she would finally take down the ones from Christmas since it was now April and time for Easter flowers. She didn't visit her father often, but when she did she was reminded of her parents' failed relationship and her childhood.
The girls had been calling her all day, and she was getting a bit annoyed. She vaguely wondered what they wanted, but she was busy thinking at the moment. She laid the flowers on the grave, and turned to leave.
She sat in the truck for a few minutes, looking at the red stone grave of her father. She didn't visit her mother's grave often although it was much closer to home to visit.
She thought of the girls again briefly. They had deserted her, and she didn't deserve that. She knew she wasn't the best mother. At times, she even thought she was the worst, but she had tried to at least provide opportunities for them to succeed if nothing else. She knew she didn't provide them with the best home life.
Then her thoughts immediately went to Frank, and she was both disappointed and filled with rage. He never even told her he loved her all those years. He was constantly in and out, it was no wonder to her that her life had turned upside down. It wasn't fair. He left just in the same way that her father left her with Zetta. Zetta the unloving alcoholic, with her harsh punishments and strict rules. The other kids had always laughed at the way Zetta had made her dress. She wasn't allowed out with the other kids, and it wasn't until she got older that her mother and she had any type of real relationship at all. Her father had become harsher as she got older from the fights. He reminded her of her weight and any acne she might have had. It didn't seem as though she could please both her parents at the same time no matter if she didn't take any sides.
Thinking of her sometimes unstable childhood home, Clare suddenly felt exhausted.She had worked an 18 hour shift the night before, and she hadn't exactly slept much yet. She turned the key in the ignition, and started to drive home. The car veering slightly from time to time riding the rumble strips lining the highway until she reached a fatal curve where she could finally rest.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
College
"Knock it off! Stop sending me butts!"
Nicole and I burst into laughter once again. We have been in the car over two hours driving to Altoona for my college orientation. For the lat ten minutes, we have been taking pictures of the creases of the inside of our forearms and sending them to Clare. Clare sat in the driver's seat of the car shaking her head back and forth, trying to see the two of us in the back seat. The car jerked back and forth slightly with her movements.
When we arrived, we walked to the room that innumerable signs indicated while Clare picked up every pamphlet, read every poster, and pointed to every sign and door. She talked to almost every person on the campus- including dog walkers who were just passing through.
Finally we arrived in the conference room which was lit by windows. Nicole and I sat diagonally from Clare across a small aisle way. Clare sat next to a very friendly man who was probably over dressed for the occasion. We had all donned tank tops and shorts with flip flops.
"I'm here with my daughters." Clare told him.
"Oh! How nice!" He replied.
You'd think he would have known better to feign interest, after seeing us usher out mother into the room in such a rude manner.
"Are you here with your kids?"
"No, I'm just an alumni."
"Oh."
The two of us snickered at the thought of Clare not knowing the meaning of the word alumni.
"Clare, leave him alone." Nicole whispered.
"I'm not doing anything!" She cried.
"You should be glad you don't have your kids here." She returned to the man.
"Do you want to see a picture? It looks just like a butt."
"I'll take your word for it," He says quickly.
Not long after, the overly dressed, friendly man stands after the speaker introduces one of the college board's administrators. Our newly found friend stands, introduces himself, and gives an elaborate speech of how college is the new step into maturity. Some of us won't make it. After his lovely speech, he does not sit with us again. Lesson learned.
Nicole and I burst into laughter once again. We have been in the car over two hours driving to Altoona for my college orientation. For the lat ten minutes, we have been taking pictures of the creases of the inside of our forearms and sending them to Clare. Clare sat in the driver's seat of the car shaking her head back and forth, trying to see the two of us in the back seat. The car jerked back and forth slightly with her movements.
When we arrived, we walked to the room that innumerable signs indicated while Clare picked up every pamphlet, read every poster, and pointed to every sign and door. She talked to almost every person on the campus- including dog walkers who were just passing through.
Finally we arrived in the conference room which was lit by windows. Nicole and I sat diagonally from Clare across a small aisle way. Clare sat next to a very friendly man who was probably over dressed for the occasion. We had all donned tank tops and shorts with flip flops.
"I'm here with my daughters." Clare told him.
"Oh! How nice!" He replied.
You'd think he would have known better to feign interest, after seeing us usher out mother into the room in such a rude manner.
"Are you here with your kids?"
"No, I'm just an alumni."
"Oh."
The two of us snickered at the thought of Clare not knowing the meaning of the word alumni.
"Clare, leave him alone." Nicole whispered.
"I'm not doing anything!" She cried.
"You should be glad you don't have your kids here." She returned to the man.
"Do you want to see a picture? It looks just like a butt."
"I'll take your word for it," He says quickly.
Not long after, the overly dressed, friendly man stands after the speaker introduces one of the college board's administrators. Our newly found friend stands, introduces himself, and gives an elaborate speech of how college is the new step into maturity. Some of us won't make it. After his lovely speech, he does not sit with us again. Lesson learned.
Mary's Tulips
Mary stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. There was a piece of grass stuck in her grey curly hair.
"Damn deer ate the flowers off every damn one of my tulips."
I nodded and grinned.
"Every fucking damn one of them."
"They must taste good."
"I don't give a damn if they taste good! They don't need ta' eat every damn one!" She laughs.
"Cindy gave me a book it says if you wanna get rid of the deer in your garden to put out a salt lick. Bull shit! Put outta salt lick an that'll jus' bait em' in! Doe stood out in the yard just the other day an' I said "Giiiiiit! Giiiiiiit! She just stood there lookin' then she finally took off and ran down there through the patch."
She motioned down to the field of weeds and grass that once held rows of strawberries. Over the years, it had become too much for the owners, and they had let the weeds and grass claim it.
"Why don't you plant some more tulips or put a fence up?" I tried to contain my laughter while I looked at my grandmother's sullen face.
"I put a fence up over there for my strawberries last year, and the damn rabbits got down and under the fence!"
"Well, what about the tulips? You could put a little fence up and around the tulips."
"Alison, I ain't wastin my time puttin no damn fence up and around there. Them deer will just find something else to eat outta the yard. Jake had to go and put that damn salt lick out there and bait em' in. Worthless he is."
I grinned. "Why don't you tell him that?"
"Hey, he knows it! All he wants to do is drink and drink. He knows he's worthless. I quit doin' his laundry. I didn't mind doin' it while he was working, but once he quit working. Well, hey, that's enough of that."
"Draggin mud in and all over the rugs and floor. He knowed it was him. I said to Nicole so he could hear, "Who in the hell drugged this mud in all over the bathroom rugs?! It looks like somebody shit in here all over the floor!"
We both laughed.
"Well, did he clean it up?"
"Hell no, he just walked on out like he didn't hear. Damn Jake. It did look like somebody shit all over the floor though."
"Damn deer ate the flowers off every damn one of my tulips."
I nodded and grinned.
"Every fucking damn one of them."
"They must taste good."
"I don't give a damn if they taste good! They don't need ta' eat every damn one!" She laughs.
"Cindy gave me a book it says if you wanna get rid of the deer in your garden to put out a salt lick. Bull shit! Put outta salt lick an that'll jus' bait em' in! Doe stood out in the yard just the other day an' I said "Giiiiiit! Giiiiiiit! She just stood there lookin' then she finally took off and ran down there through the patch."
She motioned down to the field of weeds and grass that once held rows of strawberries. Over the years, it had become too much for the owners, and they had let the weeds and grass claim it.
"Why don't you plant some more tulips or put a fence up?" I tried to contain my laughter while I looked at my grandmother's sullen face.
"I put a fence up over there for my strawberries last year, and the damn rabbits got down and under the fence!"
"Well, what about the tulips? You could put a little fence up and around the tulips."
"Alison, I ain't wastin my time puttin no damn fence up and around there. Them deer will just find something else to eat outta the yard. Jake had to go and put that damn salt lick out there and bait em' in. Worthless he is."
I grinned. "Why don't you tell him that?"
"Hey, he knows it! All he wants to do is drink and drink. He knows he's worthless. I quit doin' his laundry. I didn't mind doin' it while he was working, but once he quit working. Well, hey, that's enough of that."
"Draggin mud in and all over the rugs and floor. He knowed it was him. I said to Nicole so he could hear, "Who in the hell drugged this mud in all over the bathroom rugs?! It looks like somebody shit in here all over the floor!"
We both laughed.
"Well, did he clean it up?"
"Hell no, he just walked on out like he didn't hear. Damn Jake. It did look like somebody shit all over the floor though."
Jake
"Yes, sir. I'll have another. Thank you"
The cool beer touched his lips and he felt it down his throat. Jake stood next to them looking down at the chopped wood. The axe lay next to him on the ground, and the sweat dripped down his back. His face was hot. His beard covered most of his face, and the heat was almost unbearable. He took another sip. The can was empty, so he popped another.
It had been three years since his sister Geraldene died, and he spent most of his days doing odd jobs. From dawn into the afternoon. He would wake in the early morning while it was still dark. Sneak out of the house, and drive down to the Mansion if he had the money. His hands shook on the drive, but he knew it would stop soon enough. He wasn't an alcoholic, he just enjoyed a drink. Despite what the neighbors and others though.
"If you's isn't gonna keep them cans, I'll take em' and recycle em."
"Sure, pal."
Jake felt the sweat on his face run down into the wrinkles on his face as he cracked a smile.
By the afternoon, he was staggering. He felt good though. He was happy. His belly was full, but he hadn't eaten. He was never hungry until later in the evening after Mary cooked dinner.
That afternoon around 3 o'clock, he staggered into the house, covered in the dust of his labors, stinking of beer and sweat. "Afternoon." He managed as he lumbered past Mary and her son.
He had sold the cans as his payment for his days labor and drank value of his empties that afternoon before returning home.
Exhausted, he laid down, and fell asleep.
"Some day that bum will drink himself to death." Mary murmured to herself.
The cool beer touched his lips and he felt it down his throat. Jake stood next to them looking down at the chopped wood. The axe lay next to him on the ground, and the sweat dripped down his back. His face was hot. His beard covered most of his face, and the heat was almost unbearable. He took another sip. The can was empty, so he popped another.
It had been three years since his sister Geraldene died, and he spent most of his days doing odd jobs. From dawn into the afternoon. He would wake in the early morning while it was still dark. Sneak out of the house, and drive down to the Mansion if he had the money. His hands shook on the drive, but he knew it would stop soon enough. He wasn't an alcoholic, he just enjoyed a drink. Despite what the neighbors and others though.
"If you's isn't gonna keep them cans, I'll take em' and recycle em."
"Sure, pal."
Jake felt the sweat on his face run down into the wrinkles on his face as he cracked a smile.
By the afternoon, he was staggering. He felt good though. He was happy. His belly was full, but he hadn't eaten. He was never hungry until later in the evening after Mary cooked dinner.
That afternoon around 3 o'clock, he staggered into the house, covered in the dust of his labors, stinking of beer and sweat. "Afternoon." He managed as he lumbered past Mary and her son.
He had sold the cans as his payment for his days labor and drank value of his empties that afternoon before returning home.
Exhausted, he laid down, and fell asleep.
"Some day that bum will drink himself to death." Mary murmured to herself.
Judy
Judy sat alone in the the bedroom. She drew a deep breath and exhaled. She had laid the money on the table and she held the gun in her hands. It was the same type of rifle that her father had when she was a girl. She remembered Jonie and Bill going out to hunt with her father, and all the game her mother had cooked. She thought distastefully of eating rabbit stew with little to no rabbit. The thought of squirrel meat sickened her. They ate everything they could find as children. Being poor had always been an embarrassment, and she and Mary had talked about marrying some rich man and cooking the finest steaks and drinking wine. They would buy clothes instead of sewing their patchwork dresses and their children would never be hungry.
She felt a sudden pang in her chest and drew another deep breath. Yes, she thought, if only it had worked out that way.
She heard footsteps coming up the stairs to the small apartment she rented for herself and her two sons for when they wanted to stay with her. She drew another breath, and put her hand on her chest. Her breathing drawing slow and steady. She had thought about this day for six months. She counted on the calender until she would have enough money for the gun. Each day she crossed, she became more confident.
The lock clicked in hall, and Jasper her oldest son entered the apartment. He came quickly across the room, and she smelled the smoke of a cheap cigarette. She drew the smoke into her lungs anyway with her steady breathing.
"You have the gun? Okay, I'll show you how to load it ere' in a second. Could I borrow some money?"
His eyes darted around the room and landed on the table.
"Are you listening to me? Hello?"
His steps growing faster as he came closer to the bed where she sat. He pushed her just a little with his right hand onto her left shoulder. Her body jerked, lifeless as the momentum threw her back and she bent her spine upright again. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and pulled her arm just a bit out from its place on her lap. The cigarette breathed her forearm, and she felt sting of the heat on her skin as he took the rifle from her hands.
"The moneys on the table. Make sure your brother gets some." Jasper released her hand.
He loaded the rifle.
"This is the safety. Release it like this to shoot. Cock it back, and pull the trigger slowly."
He handed the gun to her and she repeated his steps. The rifle floated back to her hands and Jasper crossed the wooden floor and closed the door behind him. She heard his steps crossing the hall, and she undid the safety just as he showed her. Click. The apartment door opened, and she waited. Breathing slowly as she heard the click of the door closing. In. Out. In. Out. She breathed the scent of the smokey air into her lungs. She heard the creak of the last step at the bottom of the stairs to the apartment. She cocked the gun. Held her breath. She lifted the gun and felt the pang in her chest and felt the soreness of her bruised body. She held the gun under her chin, and pulled the trigger.
Red
Her daddy killed himself. Blew his brains out all over the yard. It was an accident. She stood in the yard with Jonie, and he pulled her close into his chest so she didn't see.
"You been fuckin' him!?" He screamed it over and over again. He banged the gun down on the rough porch floor. Bang. Bang. Bang,
"I ain't been screwin nobody! Just askin' a question! I ain't screwed nobody!" Bang.
"You been screwin' him! I knowed it!"Bang.
"No!"Bang.
"I oughta kill myself! You think you can leave" Bang.
"I ain't screwed nobody!" Bang.
"You lyin' whore, I ought-Bang.
Thud. Mary felt the a single wet drop like rain on her bare arm after the shot. Just one. The warmth ran down her arms and onto her finger tip until running off onto the soft ground. She heard the sobs of her mother. "You dumb son of a bitch. You...son..." She felt the sun's warmth cover her and squeezed her eyes shut tighter as she felt Jonie release her. She opened her eyes and could see two shadows running down the field toward the trailer.
"He's dead. Get in the house now. Go on in."
More sobs.
She and Judy sat on the floor. Jake sat in his mother's lap. The room was silent except for the sound of her mother's deep breathing and the clock ticking. Outside there was the clang of the shovel. The clock ticked on. She heard the latch click in the kitchen, and Jonie entered covered in the red. She felt his gaze, but did not look up. The floor creaked under his bare feet as he walked past. His hands and clothes were red. Mary smelled the dirt her on her brother. Another door opened and closed, and the sound of running water.
That night Mary washed the red out of the tub.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)