The Prisoners.

Sherry loved walking in the back woods; finding old places, forgotten spots, abandoned buildings and not just because of the opportunity to catch spiritual activity (though that was her MAIN goal) Sherry simply loved old things; old books, papers, furniture, bridges buildings, music...you name it. The mustier, more rickety or ancient, the better.  She felt at home, comforted and relaxed by its past energy. Somehow it felt safe and slow which was just what she wanted in this day and age of "instants". 

Wandering through the brush and off the beaten path, she discovered a trail of rock near a dried creek bed.  It lead her back amid the ravenous rhododendron and cloying ivy to a hulking empty home fighting to stand tall in the middle of nature's recall of the land it once claimed. The home must have been dashing at one time, with its majestic bricked front pillars now loosely grabbing at a flaking, rusted gate. The walkway continued up to a slouching arch covered porch that looked like a worn out shawl draped around the warped bent shoulders of the old home herself; a brick block with four chimneys, intricate carved wood doors splintering like dry cracked lips and black empty window-eyes that sadly stared out at the forest creeping toward it; inside it; to spoil its once stunning glamorous figure.

Inside she found scabs of wall paper, open wounds where vandals had broken the old dame's structure and bones.  Once decadent dark mahogany was now painted, scratched or sun faded.  Pocket doors sagged and lolled less impressively than she imagined they did when a family dinner or banquet was had back in the day. Sheeted furniture sparsely haunted the rooms; the ghosts of more comfortable and peaceful times. She sighed and clicked the recorder she always packed and began to speak to the house; hopeful for some company.

Carefully walking through, she felt changes in temperature, though she could attribute them to the weather outside. She felt skinny little tendrils of fear race along the back of her neck and thought she saw something cautiously following her out of the corner of her eye but she dismissed this of course to nerves and her overactive imagination...with a hint of wishful thinking.  The scratching, no.. it was more like clawing was just a varmint. Yes. That was it. She whispered to the house. She was sorry it was so neglected. She spoke kindly, asking questions to whomever was around...

"Were you happy here? I'm sure it was a lovely home.  Is it okay that I am here? I don't want to hurt anyone. I'm not here to damage anything or take anything. I just want to look.  If I am intruding, please let me know ... please give me a sign..."

Something crashed on the floor above her. Her heart sought refuge in her throat and her breath left her in the dust altogether. She stood for a long moment and listened for the scratching to continue because in her mind that was just it... a critter knocked something over. Her pulse thrummed between her ears, her chest complained at her holding her breath for so long. Then the wind picked up, the jagged filmy curtains began to shoo her away. Her ears pricked at what she thought were voices. She accommodated her lungs once again and rather than tempt fate, she thanked the house, its occupants and said she would be going.  She did mention coming back to visit.

"Perhaps just on your pretty porch...."

Another thump, this time from the floor below.

Sherry did her best to calmly walk out and down the path as if leaving a friend.  Her knees felt like hot rubber springs and her spine tingled.  Once out the gate, she felt better at a modest run, glad to get home.  That night, listening to the recorder she confirmed it; voices. They were jumbled and soft but they were there and seemed to be trying to answer her.  Ecstatic, she made her notes and began to research the area.

The house certainly was a grand old biddy in her day.  It was owned by a successful, though suspected imbalanced shopkeeper, Percival Franks. By his picture, he was a tall man with light hair and piercing light eyes with sharp distinguished jawline and nose; undeniably handsome. His wife Zula, was a dark haired lovely with deep mischievous eyes that crinkled at the corners.  Her mouth was full and pretty with a gentle smile.  According to record, she kept the store in top shape and balanced books despite his torturous mental and physical cruelties, as the town speculated.  Their son, Joseph was a bright lad and the picture pre-tragedy showed a boy of about six with a shock of thick curly dark hair and an open smile. Sherry grinned back and touched the boys cheek.  Following was a bleary snapshot of their daughter, Alice, who was only eleven at the time of the incident. Her hair appeared mousy, her features plain and smeared by the photograph. Her eyes were small, beady and yet captivating; like those of her father.

Plagued by insanity, Percival, it was supposed, beat and abused his entire family. Often Zula and Joseph had cuts or bruises on their faces.  Alice was always seen in long sleeves and frequently noticed to limp.  Though visited many times by police, no one in the home spoke against the man and ultimately, nothing was ever truly done to aid the Franks family until it was too late.  One night in what was believed to be an uncontrollable rage, Percy, it appeared, sliced his young son from ear to ear so deeply that the baby was almost decapitated.  Little Joseph was found in his high seat at the table, his head barely attached to his body and drooping backwards at an unnatural, gruesome angle.  Zula had tried to run from the madman but only made it as far as the pocket doors leading to the library.  Here, it appeared from photos, he pounced, smashed her head repeatedly into the mahogany floor until she lost consciousness. From there, the deranged monster used the blade from his son's slaying to hack and remove as much skin as possible and fill the waste basket next to her quilting chair.  And then there was Alice. It was suspected that she hid upstairs inside one of the dormers' seat cupboards. The young girl was discovered bloody, half starved and shaking only after an exhaustive search of the property and home when townspeople noticed the business had not opened and no one of the family had been seen in two or three days.  Percival was never found and assumed to have run off. Alice, never recovered and as Sherry discovered was still alive in a home for the "unfortunate" sponsored by relatives lucky enough to stay far out of her father's crazed grasp.  Sherry gulped information and took notes until she thought her fingers would bleed.  Then she copied the address of the asylum where Alice was being cared for.

It was a bitterly cold morning as she stood in front of the sterilized building Alice now called home.  After many phone conversations, letters and just a handful more of white lies, Sherry had painted herself a distant relative and gained access to the lone survivor of the Franks' tragedy.

Alice had not changed much. Her face was still plump in the cheeks, her hair was still mousy and limp.  Her eyes were vacant, though sherry noted they would have been a vibrant green had she any spark of life left.  Instead, the thirty year old sat in a drab grey institutional pantsuit with a pale yellow afghan around her slumping shoulders in a room of noncommittal browns and blues while humming a song Sherry couldn't quite hear and rocking back and forth.

Sherry told her of the weather; of things going on in the world and even of lunch that she would have. Then she mentioned the house; that she had been there, visited, spoken to the it and planned to go back.  She asked Alice if there was anything she wanted to convey... a message...

Alice did not respond or react.

"All right then. I'll come back another day, shall I? We'll visit again." She clicked off the recorder, smiled at all the nurses on her way out and made a beeline for the house in the wood.

With a little more defiance, she pushed through the decayed toothy gate and paused on the porch as she had promised.  Sherry reintroduced herself, asked permission and sauntered in.  She then told of her visit. Described the girl and asked if the gentle daughter was missed. Sherry confessed that Alice had suffered greatly by the tragedy, asking if there was remorse.  The answer was a thump and a long set of scratching above her. She followed the sound up the dark sharp staircase and found herself in a long hallway; bedrooms, a parlor, an office and another case upstairs... to the dormers and attic where Sherry found a playroom and what looked like a roughly constructed miniature gallows.

"What a ghastly existence." she muttered to herself, running her hand along the knotted wood. She noticed a bench the children must have had to kneel on while imprisoned.  Closer inspection revealed tiny digs and niches in the bench left by grain. The pain must have been indescribable, unbearable. The scratching continued on the floor below her.  Quickly she raced down the steps and searched but found nothing. The air began to feel heavy and smell like rancid burned sugar. Sherry called out and asked for proof or response. Only the scratching; like digging.  The sun began to dip deep into the trees and Sherry, although brave, was not foolish enough to stay after it set. She said goodbye and went home to listen to the recordings.

The voices were growing louder and more definitive in both response to her questions and clarity.  Sherry replayed and filtered them until she thought she at last heard:

"Are you sorry for what happened here?"

"yes"

"Do you miss Alice?"

"never. help me."

Certain she had found the family and they all were taking turns speaking to her, she quickly made another call and set up an appointment to meet with Alice. 

But nothing would change during their many visits over the next several weeks.  Alice would sit in her chair, usually by the window and rock back and forth while humming. Sherry became comfortable with the woman, reaching out to touch her sleeve or comfort her while asking about the tragedy.

"You are so brave. You are very strong to think to hide from your father. He must have been horrible."

At this, Alice stopped. Sherry prodded but received nothing more from the woman. Having become friendly with the staff, she now paused on her way out for a refreshing two-way chat. She learned from these brief encounters that no one ever came to see the catatonic victim, but the bills were always paid.  The oldest staff members who recalled the family tragedy said that night was the worst they had ever seen.  The girl had been brought in with wild eyes wide as saucers and covered in blood and bits. She was shaking like a leaf and kept putting her fingers to her mouth ~ to stifle a scream they imagined after what she must have witnessed at the hands of her father. she never spoke again. She could be lead around, fed like a child but no reaction ever came from her.  They feared for the longest time that her father would come, to claim her but that talk had long since been silenced.

"He had to answer to Someone." was the end of the conversation.

Back at the old house, the scratching became almost a greeting for Sherry, following her down the halls always remaining out of site. sometimes it was quick and jittery as if writing or trying to communicate and other times it was long slow and lazy as if it was just trailing along, watching. The shadows hovered closer but never stayed long and the EVPs were more clear but soft. They sounded more like a residual haunt because of their repetition:

"Stop."

"Please, no."

and the screams. 

All of them sent icy scrapes along Sherry's flesh and kneaded a heavy lump in her chest; for the family to have suffered so horribly because of that man's sickness.

Then came the call that Alice had gotten an infection. Sherry couldn't see her until she was well.  Instead she went to the house and updated the daughter's condition.

"Are you sad? What if she doesn't get better?"

To listen to them later made her nauseous. 

"No."

"Die."

Although she tried, Sherry couldn't get in for her visits. Alice was deteriorating. The woman had refused to eat and was simply wasting away.  Frantically, Sherry sped to the house and confronted it.

"She will die. It's what you wanted all along you horrible excuse for a human being! You will pay for your sins."

The house seemed to rumble and stir with her anger. The scratching inside the walls became grittier as if trying to get out and get to Sherry rather than playfully chase her or communicate.   There was thudding and screaming from the lower floor and above her came a laugh that froze her blood.  The shadows that had enjoyed eluding her hovered now growing darker and more menacing.  The voices came in eager hisses like a room full of people wanting to share the gruesome secret all at once. Sherry covered her ears and backed away from the thickening black mass in front of her.  It had grown to quite the size... a tall man perhaps? It began to take shape.  As she floundered backward and fumbled toward the door she noticed for the first time a shape in the library; on the floor.  Glancing through to the kitchen, she noticed another figure much smaller as if... sitting in a high chair. Mentally Sherry began to unravel.  she dashed out the door and raced along the path, her arm snagging on the jagged metal gate.  Her lungs burned as they groped for air. Her mind cried out for her legs to carry her faster;  back to her car, back to her own house, back to the living.

She did not visit for more than a week. The voices she recorded had been too terrifying to replay. In fact, she boxed them up and put them in her closet. Most nights Sherry slept with the lights on. She no longer liked to be alone.  She stopped inquiring about Alice's condition, but the call came anyway. Her distant cousin Alice Franks, sole survivor of the savage murder so many years ago, had died due to complications of pneumonia. Sherry sat quietly and mourned for the poor woman and prayed that she would find peace. She was notified of the burial plans and was the only attendee. A small flat stone with her name was placed in a back plot at the oldest corner of the town's cemetery where Sherry placed a small potted gardenia.

It was almost a month later that Sherry finally felt brave enough to go back.  She wanted to tell the house goodbye; pray that all souls had been set free and were able to move on. The day was brilliant and warm as she wound her way through the brush and  up to the gate. It seemed angrier now; ready to snap and bite.  The porch scowled as she approached, the window eyes daring her to approach once more. As she always did, Sherry introduced herself, explained her purpose and stepped inside.  Not much had changed in the passed months. A little more paper peeled away, the corners looked darker and the air felt thicker, more charged. the floor groaned under her feet announcing her arrival.  From upstairs came a soft thud and a light scratch.  Sherry was mildly comforted.

"Well, hello. It's been a long time."

scratch

"I wanted you to know she's gone. Alice. she died." Sherry wandered around to each room.  The shadows shifted and followed behind her.

thud.

"Percy, you killed her. It took a lifetime but you finally killed her."

There was a loud thump and a scurrying like running feet.  

"Joseph? Zula?"

The scratching seemed to crawl up the stairs toward the bedrooms. Sherry followed.  At the top, it became emphatic and harsh; trying to get out.  She knelt down along the hall where it was most pronounced. The thump was so loud that she was knocked off her haunches. She touched the wall.  It was warm and she felt the digging against her hand. She pushed at it.  It thumped and banged. Then the wall bulged and fluttered and gave way.  Sherry fell into the plaster and wood buried almost all the way to her shoulder.  There was a groan and a shudder in the foundation.  Sherry instinctively grabbed at the first thing her hand clutched; soft small, she pulled out a handkerchief with the initials PF embroidered on it.  

Without warning, there was a screech; high and gravelly accompanied by the sound of running up the stairs, toward her. Fear clenched Sherry's stomach. She curled in tighter and awaited the intruder's appearance. Sure this would be the end, she sucked in what she was positive to be her last breath to scream and give one sudden attack before attempting to get passed the devil, down the stairs and hopefully out the door to freedom. Then clear as day she heard a man's voice.

"NO!"

"STOP!"

"PLEASE NO!"

As she looked down where her arm had fractured the wall, a hand flopped out between the boards, dressed in a long sleeved man's business shirt.  In front of her on the floor was a black pool taking shape; a man, dragging himself along the floor, scratching, digging. Trailing him was a dark smudge.  Up the stairs came a quick short shadow swinging something above it's head wildly. Sherry watched in horror as the form of a young Alice jumped into view and attacked the longer shadow; of her father.  With glee and eagerness, she wielded a blade, hacking and laughing until her father stopped moving. When it was over. she smoothed her hair and cocked her head, smearing a crimson ribbon along her cheek and down her pasty dress. She giggled again and took another swing.  The body absorbed the blow without complaint. Then Alice smiled, got up and began to bury her not so crazed father in the wall. 

Sherry watched the grotesque movie play on before her. It hadn't been Percival at all. For so many years, everyone assumed Zula, Joseph and Alice had been victims of a mentally infected, brutal father.

They were all wrong. The prisoners belonged to Alice.

With a last, hungry glance in Sherry's direction, the young girl dragged and crammed her father's body in to a hole she smashed in the wall and began to rebuild.  It must have taken  her a couple of days.  Sherry sat frozen, watching the truth of the Franks' tragedy play out in front of her like a chilling snuff film. When at last the little demon was finished, she wandered up the stairs to await discovery. Certain the show was over, Sherry stood and slowly descended the stairs, walked out the gaping front door and down the walk.  She pulled the snaggled gate closed, leaving behind the troubled house and the secrets it swallowed.

Well, this is it. I've gutted, rewritten and now rid myself of this stubborn piece.  It's not  bad considering all I've done to it. But those are secrets of the notebook... not to be shared... ha.
I like the twist ~ works better than what I had at the beginning, believe me. So thanks for hanging in there with me. Writer's block stinks but thanks for the encouragement and help along the way. You guys are fabulous.  I do hope you enjoyed it and maybe even got a little case of the heebie jeebies.  Creepy is soooo fun.

Until next time, be good to yourself. Thanks for visiting. It's always nice to spend a little time with you.

Hi Folks
I didn't forget ya. We've all been really busy, haven't we? Jeez, I know I think I have it bad until I catch up with you guys and we begin to compare notes. Wow ~ the snow hasn't slowed us down any.  I'm tired of Old Man Winter and hear he has a cute son ~ Sassy Boy Summer. He sounds MUCH better to me and I believe I would like to meet him. :)

I have one in the works but I am really struggling with it. I can't find direction so I am going to hang on to it, mash it around until I like it and when I get too frustrated, will smack it up here, swipe my hands and be rid of it.  I hate it when I can't get passed it... stuck.... All you can do is, trudge forward.

And so, like my writer's block, continues winter.

Trudge on.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend. Thanks for checking on me. Let's try again later in the week? Sounds like a plan. Miss your company.

Hunters

 The bar was filled with potential. They sat together, laughing, drinking, and always watching for the next one.  They pointed out possibilities to the others in hopes of approval. Then they would move out; split up and "hunt" outright. The weaker sex was so much fun.

The men sized up competition and felt there was little. This made them bold and aggressive.  Mark was feeling powerful, invincible as he stepped up to buy the first girl a drink.  She was less than impressed with his corny jokes, his speaking a little too softly so she would have to lean in to him. This allowed him to make another move and put his arm around her casually. Finding him tedious, she excused herself after only a few minutes to go to the ladies' room and did not return.  He wasn't upset. There were plenty more that would love a shot with him. He went and sat back down with his buddies who flipped the usual barrage insults. He didn't hear them for in the quiet corner of the club sat the one he wanted. She was perfect.  Giving his best friends the single-finger salute, he adjusted his "junk" at them, dipped his tongue to his chin and announced he would be busy for the rest of the night. 

"Miss Right?"

"Miss Right-now" they all laughed. "We'll be here to catch you when you fall King Douche"

"I'll lay five down he doesn't get out of the bar--"

"That five is the ONLY thing layin down for him-"

"I'll see your five and raise you two."

The bills began to stack up.

"Two? Who the Hell puts in two?"

"Dude, I'm no endless ATM like Markie. I need the cash to buy these chicks drinks. I'm not givin it to YOU"

"You just want the money for the hooker outside once we are all outta here."

Mark swiped up the money and counted it. "Keep goin boys, this isn't enough for her cab ride." He plopped it down, winked, blew them all a kiss and announced he had someone to see.

Danni sat watching the people attempt to dance and grind on each other to the beat of  a raspy, thumping song. She bounced lightly in her seat and poked at her ice cubes.  She saw the man coming across the bar and sighed.

"May I join you?" he mouthed and set down two drinks. She rolled her hand back and shrugged lightly.  

"Suit yourself." she smiled.

"I'm Mark."

"Danni" 

They shook hands. 

"I haven't seen you here before. My friends and I hang out here sometimes"

"Oh I've seen you."She replied stirring her drink. "You are usually otherwise occupied." she smirked and raised her eyebrows.  "So tonight it's my turn to be graced by the gift of your manly attention?"

He wrapped his hands around his drink. "I guess you think I'm a player? One of THOSE guys?" his shoulders shrunk a little; hurt.

"I think YOU think you are."

"And you?"

"You're just a man." she said over her ice.  She took a long drink from her cup and waited.

"I'm really not such a bad boy."

"Okay."

"I'm kind of fun and I'm nice. I'm employed..."

"Always a bonus. I'd hate to have to pay for this drink you bought me."

He smiled and nodded sheepishly. "I've done that."

"Lovely. It doesn't help your case. "but her smile was warmer. Mark was making headway.

"And how do you spend your days?" she asked simply. "Please do not tell me you are a doctor, lawyer or astronaut."

"Nah. Nothing so glamorous. I'm a forensic accountant."

"Oh? That actually sounds rather interesting." 

And so began their evening. She found him nice, just as he said.  Danni let him buy her a couple more drinks. Her guard came down. Mark was not too eager but hungry and buzzed enough to slide next to her, lay his hand on her knee and begin to kiss and whisper in her ear.  Danni did not pull away; giggling and allowing him to coax her out the door. He caught his buddies' eyes as they headed out. 

"Oh wait right here Gorgeous." He pouted between tiny kisses on her lips. "I need to tell the guys I'm leaving."

"So sweet." she purred and snuggled inside her coat.

Mark swept up on the table, took the pile of money. "Thanks. See you later." and sauntered out.

Danni was on her phone busily texting when he slid up beside her. "Let's unplug and pay attention to more important things." and plucked it from her hands, kissing her lightly. She giggled as he ushered her out the door.  They walked quickly to his car.

 "Where would you like to go?" He began to grope her and tug at her clothes.

"That's so cliche'" she laughed pushing him away. "I live about forty minutes from here." 

Mark frowned.

"My place was just painted and still has some fumes lingering.  I would hate for you to get a headache.."

She kissed him back and unbuttoned his shirt.  Her lips were firm, her tongue warm and sweet inside his mouth. Her hand eagerly tracing his desire for her. She sighed against his neck. 

"My friend has a place near by.  Why don't we just go there?" 

He pawed at her and groaned against her touch. "Yeah..That sounds great. Let's go."

Their fingers entwined and gripped each other as Danni led the way. The conversation dried up, only their breath chugging in eager clouds drifted in the night air.

"Here." And she pulled at him to follow her up the stone steps to the charming building.  
"We can get in?"

"I have keys. No worries."

"It's late. Is she sleeping?"

"Not home. She is away."

"Oh. Nice." 

Once in the elevator, things began to heat up. The couple began to pull and yank at clothes while panting whispers of desire and want. The bell quietly interrupted them and they fumbled out the door, down the hall to the apartment.  Danni stuffed the key in the lock and they stumbled in to the foyer.  She kicked out of her shoes and yanked at her blouse and bra.  Mark began to knead her flesh and kiss her body.  He dropped to his knees to taste the flat of her belly. Danni raked his hair and moaned his name.  Desire raced under her skin causing goose bumps.

Mark paused and looked up at the woman he picked up at the bar.  "What was that?"

Danni gazed down at him with  soft eyes. "What lover?"

"Didn't you hear that?"

"I must have bumped the table. Don't stop. Please. You are so wonderful..." and she bit her lip, purring softly.

He smiled.

A soft thump came from down the hall.

"Danni. someone is here."

"You're being silly. Don't be scared. I will protect you.  Want me to turn on a light?"

Mildly aggravated and a little embarrassed, Mark became more physically aggressive.  His hands slipped her out of her skirt and panties.  She stood before him naked and beautiful. His fingers cloyed at her soft form. He stood and began to undress.

A floorboard creaked behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder nervously.

Danni took his chin in his hand and pulled him toward her.  Her mouth was hard. She bit his lip. He yanked away, touching his mouth. 

"Hey."

"Awww~ afraid of the dark AND a little love bite? You certainly ARE the weaker sex." and she giggled.

"What?"

"Let me turn on the lights for you, scaredy-cat" and she reached for the switch.

Mark was getting mad now. "Hey, I don't know who you think you are but ..."

"I know I know. You're all man." Danni walked away and down the hall. "Go ahead Mark. Show me who's boss."

"You bit..." and he started down after her.  She turned the corner and the lights went out.  There was a soft laugh.

"Danni. What are you doing? I thought we were having a good time. Why are you ruining this? "

"Oh it will be." she whispered from the dark.

He slowed his step and reached out, sensing shapes in the darkness. The carpet crinkled under his feet.  "C'mon Baby, let's have a good night. A happy ending.  Turn on the light so I can see you."

There was a sharp click as the light came on.  Mark stopped and stared.  Danni stood naked surrounded by four other women; also naked. The floor was covered with a tarp.  The women sighed and petted their best hunter. The prey was caught. 

"No." Mark said in a hushed, panicky tone.

Someone turned up the music.  The lights went out. The party had just begun.  

It was Saturday when the wolf pack of Mark's cronies sat a little lost and wounded, awaiting the arrival of their friend and the story he would surely and bawdily repeat. The evening continued and Mark did not show.  They sat and ordered their drinks. They did not prowl or make comments as they usually did. The table was quiet. As the night dragged on, the men remained at their table speaking in hushed tones. At last, the waitress whose behind had been the topic of discussion, lewd jokes, and much pinching, and slapping rushed up to the table with a round of drinks and an envelope. The men looked up meekly, a little lonely without their leader.  She did not speak, just put everything on the table and hustled off.  They looked surprised and searched the bar for their benefactor. No one stood out, no one waited or raised their glass.

The boys raised their glasses and toasted Mark who must surely still be in bed with the poor unsuspecting floozy he took home.  They opened the envelope that contained the money they had bet the night before and ordered another round. 

In the back quiet corner, they sat together, laughing, drinking, and always watching for the next one.  They pointed out possibilities to the others in hopes of approval. Then they would move out; split up and "hunt" outright. The weaker sex was so much fun.

No one was hurt

Ah yes, tests. There are those that we take on paper and study for. My children despise them and stomp through them. I usually tell them they have to suck it up, roll up their sleeves and give life a little more elbow grease.

Then there are the other tests. The ones for patience, stamina, wherewithal, sanity and general survival.  I believe these crop up in our lives ( much like a video game obstacles we have to dodge quickly) to see if we are paying attention.

Well for the record? Today? Oh you bet your sweet BIPPY I am paying attention!

For those of you who don't know, Cheech and the kids were in an accident.  No one was hurt.  They were coming back from the mountain and a moron who thought that just because he drove a truck, he was invincible in the snow, took a turn too fast and smacked into Cheech. Sigh. Inconvenient to say the least, but again no one was hurt.

So I get the call during my spa... the first girls' weekend we've been able to snag in over a year. I was grateful that I was reasonably close and able to go and get them.

Lalala we get the car fixed (it's still in the shop and so we had to drive and extra three hours to get a little help with another vehicle ~ again I am grateful and glad we had this to our advantage)

So let's move on shall we? Get to the good stuff. The crux of it all.

This morning we woke up and began our hamster dance. You know the one in the wheel? I had a meeting at 2p-had to leave with my partner at one.  Meeting was to last until 3:30p at which time we would drive back to the office.  Cheech and I then had to finagle (love that word) getting Boo to a wrestling match way south of town, pick him up at 5 and head way up north to pick up my daughter at 6 (not physically possible) BUT not to worry; we've got this all figured out! ( I know you were twitching on the edge of your desk chair) Cheech will grab Boo, meet me at the Dunkin on the way to Sissy's school and I will pick up the relay from there.  (He has to work a midnight shift tonight... hence the hamster dance) It's okay to clap for our ingenuity ~ I don't mind. Well, late last night, I got an email that the meeting was canceled.  No problem. It just pulls out one of the stops and possible hang ups. Yay ~ go team.

We huddle over coffee, drew up the new plans and high-five ourselves... tired of waiting for you... ;)
I head upstairs to sing songs and get ready for a decent though a little hectic day.

*Insert villainous music*

In the mirror, I see Cheech standing in the doorway. "Hmmm" I think to myself because he is standing there not in an amorous "I love you...need you ..." kinda way but more of a "This smells and is broken" stance. I prefer the former.

I lower my dancing hand and stop celebrating...The Bee Gees will obviously have to wait.

"The door on the Caddy won't close."

I squint as if the words he's said are too tiny to see. I simply can not register that our plan is on the skids.
I tilt my head and look like Winston. "Mmmm?" I say in an unintentional Yoda voice. I realize that "Tragedy" is playing... how apropos.

"The Caddy door won't close. I will have to take your car to work the store. You stay here until noon. I will come and get you, take you to the office where you can get the delivery car..."

I instantly pick up the ball and begin running the new play. "YES. And you go to get Boo. I will simply work later, drive to DD at previously set time and we will swap kids, you can go to Philly and I will pick up our daughter and go home. "

BOOM SHE SCORES! I am proud that we thought of this so quickly and nothing really changes too drastically.

I text my partner and tell him I am in no uncertain terms having a motherfiretrucker of a day. He offers so kindly to come and fetch me. (He would never use that word and would make fun of me for doing so.. I don't think he reads this so... HAHAHA...) I turn down his offer and settle in for some work I have to do on the computer ~ still out nothing and no one is hurt.

I go upstairs to jail and release the short prisoners we keep.  The toddlers love sick days, snow days, any day they don't have to be in prison.  It means quality time under blankets sleeping with ... whoever.  (I think it could be a robber and if they stopped to sit down? My toddlers would love it.) They are jumping and tugging at me just SO happy to be free that Birdie makes tee-tee on the floor.  I understand that kind of joy but am not happy about it.  I go in to get a towel to clean it up and on my way back see Winston hike his leg and mark on top of it. REALLY DUDE? He lowers his head ..

"I can't help myself Mommy. I'm a boy. I'm a dog.... the odds are ALWAYS against me."

He doesn't even flinch but goes right back in to prison. I hear him break wind, yawn and he lies down with a sigh that would blow out the sides of his box if they didn't have holes. He knew it was the right thing to do. I laughed and shut the prison gate.  "Sleep tight buddy. See you at your parole hearing tonight."

After cleaning up TWO messes, I head downstairs at last to begin my work. I boot up...
no internet.

"Ohhh COME ON DAMMIT"

I try again, reboot, reconnect, reiterate a fowl string of dirty words and reset modems, firewalls, the microwave clock (just in case). Holy Hannah... nothing. I can't even sponge off my neighbor's connection! So I go to my phone and play my Minion game. Love those little buggers. After giggling with my tiny yellow friends I collect myself, grind my teeth ONE more time for good measure, head BACK downstairs to reconnect, reset, and threaten to burn it all to the ground if I don't catch ONE motherfiretrucking break this morning for all the effort and patience I've exuded from my pores like a sumo wrestler wallowing in the heat of the day in a Cialis sized tub filled with pork fat. Too  much? You get the idea don't you? You see my emotional sweater unraveling? Yeah well, stop pullin at it.

I stomp upstairs, glare at my laptop, flip a warning look up to God and fire it up.

... and here I am to gladly report from the Internet

that no one got hurt.

Go ahead. I know it's funny ... just not yet. Let us hope that my evening is flawless. Who wants to wager that the place where I pick up dinner (I won't even speculate where that is yet because I have a feeling it doesn't matter) has an instantaneous and business crippling fire...as I get my fountain drink or pick up a couple extra pepper packets. No? Don't wanna?

you chicken.

Better days my friends. I hope you have one (for me)

Through the Open Window

It was one of those perfect summer nights where the wind whispered sweetly through the sun-yellowed shears in my room.  My tiny dragonfly wind chime named Evanroode sang softly to me in the velvety night or maybe he was warning me. It's too late now

I couldn't sleep. I don't know why but my mind just kept mulling things over; what dress I would wear to church in the morning, whether my brother would eat the last of the biscuits at dinner, would it be hot as Hell's kitchen again... all the important things.  I sighed warily and rolled to look out the window. I closed one eye and counted the stars.  In the distance I heard the train.  It was the 8:15 last out of  Channahon. That meant it was just after 11 PM. It moaned sadly for my sleeplessness.

"Tell me about it." I grumped and tossed under the sheet.  Closing my eyes tightly, grinding my teeth, I tried to force myself to relax. Ha.

"Come to us." came the whisper.  Inside my body a tingling began. My muscles were weak.  I thought I might have to get up and use the toilet.  Was I asleep? Dreaming? I flipped my pillow to the cool side and shuffled my legs to find the same on the mattress.

"Lindieeee....Come and see us." the voice was braided in the same sweet wind making Evanrude dance. I rubbed my eyes and sat up to see over the edge of my sill.  Far off I could see the hulk of the train gulping at the tracks as it rolled passed our town.  It was like a huge serpent.  I drew my knees up under my tee shirt, wrapped my arms around them and watched it snake along the wood.

"Come where? Where do you go?" I asked. "Who are you?" Now I felt drowsy almost cloudy like the night stretched out before me.

"Come Lindie." and the train slowed. The whistle whined and the creeping metal monster slumped to a stop.  I perked up immediately.  No train had stopped here since Joliet got it's big snooty stores.  We are all but forgotten here in Minooka; but not that night.  I heard the beast hiss and squinted peering around the steam cloud belching out underneath the mechanical stranger.

Evanroode rattled nervously now tinkling vehemently that I should be sleeping; a girl of only twelve. I sat a little longer, watching a parade of firefly flashlights dismount the train and traipse around in the dark.  I heard laughter; maybe just in my mind. And for the last time that night someone spoke to me through my open window. "We can't wait to meet you." and then I drifted, dreaming of clowns, a circus and the squealing delight of children.

The warm sun poked me awake. I was nervous and excited for my day. I couldn't wait to run across Old Man Gosemer's field to the station. I wanted to see what was going on and who our visitors were.  I just hoped they hadn't left already.  I shoveled in my breakfast and dressed in a rush.  My mother, Mary Jean was packing my papa's lunch for work.  My baby brother, Joseph was sulking over his cereal.

"I don't LIKE Apple Jacks. I'm JOE." and he defiantly crossed his arms.  He was seven and tougher than a box of nails.  I took the milk and dumped it in his bowl. "If you don't eat this right now? You'll have to eat it for lunch when it's all swollen and puffy. All the colors will run out into the milk and it will taste like the mud puddle at the end of our driveway."

"EWWWWW LINDIEEEEE You're so gross! MOOOOOOM...."

I got a sharp look from my folks. I could only grin and shrug. I took a spoon from the table and began to dig in his bowl. "Well I LOVE them..."

"Hey HEYYYY THOSE ARE MINE! MOOOOOOM !! LINDIE ATE MY BREAKFAST!"

"I thought you didn't like Apple Joes."

He paused. "Joes?"

"Sure Squirt~ It can't be a Jack when you're a Joe... They got the box wrong."

He stared at it. Then at his bowl.  I faked like I was swooping in for another bite but he blocked me.
"Hands off Sister!"

I moved away, pretending I was hurt. "I never had Apple Lindies. You get all the good stuff." and slipped toast in the toaster.

My mom smiled sideways.  "What's the agenda for today?"

"I want to go to the station.  A train stopped here last night."

"Here? No. Honey they all go on to Joliet now."

"No. Not last night. I saw it. I saw the lights and heard all sorts of commotion.  Maybe it's a royal prince looking for asylum! Or the Feds trying to hide someone really important...a criminal... or WORSE..."

"Slow down Nancy Drew. Let me call Mrs. Stowman and see what SHE knows. Then we'll see."  My mom was talking, wiping down my brother's face ~ don't ask me how he can be such a mess but he had sparkles of color from his cereal I swear up to his eyeballs. ~ and eat her own breakfast and then she reached for the phone.  She is amazing; like an octopus but prettier.  She snapped her fingers and drew a circle in the air.r.  She wanted me to clean up the dishes. I tsked with frustration and began to bang the dishes.  My father cleared his throat and looked over his glasses at me.  "Enough" is what that meant.

I hovered around my mother like a hornet on a pop can at a picnic.  At last she and Mrs. Stowman hung up.
"Well, I'll be ... Lindie, you were right.  Seems a group stopped here last night and are going to stay at Bryn MaGuire's for a few days before heading down to Braidwood. I guess they are entertainers."

"Lovely. A bunch of fruits." my dad huffed.

"Who's a fruit? Singing grapes? Like the underpants people? FRUIT OF THE LOOM IS HERE? I love the apple. I wonder if his hat is heavy. Think he'll let me wear it? Ooo did they bring the pear? Why isn't there a banana?" My brother was totally into it. We all  were biting our lips to stifle the giggling.

"No. Honey, sometimes entertainers can be ... unUSUAL."

"Fruity?"

"You betcha." my father laughed.

"Paul..." my mother crooned.

"Well, can I go see?" I was already in my sweater. It was going to be another warm one today but I didn't want to risk a thing so being prepared was key.

"MMMMmm..."my mom hesitated.  "I don't know..."

"Mrs. MaGuire's is just really close and I don't have to go IN or MEET them. I just want to SEE what they are doing...." My voice was high and tight. I was almost squealing.

"Alright alright ... but ..."

My shoulders sagged. I knew what was coming and so did my brother. "YES!" he clapped and began jumping up and down holding my hand. I thought he was going to shake my shoulder out of socket.

"Hurry up.I'm not waiting." and I rested my hand on the handle of the door, twisting the knob slowly....

"WAIT WAIT WAAAAIIIIT MOOOOOOM!"

"You better get it together team or NO ONE goes. And I have a LOT of laundry to do, dishes to wash, vacuuming...."

We glared at each other and left single file while pinching and smacking at each other.

"Have fun." was the echo from my parents.

The walk wouldn't have been too long had my brother not been whining and dragging his feet complaining of the heat every two seconds.  I finally threatened to leave him in the woods to be eaten by the bears or witches if he didn't shut up. Then he cried because he was scared we were going to be eaten so I gave him a sword from a magical beech tree that would slay even the cruelest witch or hungriest bear.  At last we made it.  I saw them sitting lazily on the porch of Mrs. Bryn MaGuire's Bed and Breakfast.

They were dressed in brilliant jeweled colors: the deepest purples, decadent blues, blood reds and pumpkin oranges.  There was a lot of clanking from all the big jewelry they wore.  They seemed bored already. I could understand that. There was nothing exciting about Minooka.  I leaned on the corner fence of Mrs. MaGuire's. One woman seemed to notice me right away and smiled.  Her mouth was really shiny and red.  My mom never wore lipstick like that. Whew. At least not THIS early in the morning.

"Hi." I heard but not out loud. In between my ears.  I looked around as if my brother had played a trick on me.

"No Lindie. Here. Up here.  I am Rina. I believe you and I spoke last night. Well a few of us did."

I felt my jaw fall open. I got sweaty and felt that sick feeling in my gut like I had the night before. I looked away embarrassed, frightened.

"It's okay Lindie. Don't be afraid. You can just think your answer or your questions. I can hear inside your mind."

"HOW-DO-YOU DO THAT?"

"Whoa... Don't shout Lindie. Just think regular. Like when you sit at your window at night. Just like we were using our voices." I saw her laugh a little.  I smiled too.  My brother was poking twigs into a nest of sidewalk ants.

"Who are you? My dad says you're a bunch of fruity entertainers."

I saw Rina frown a little but then she shrugged.  "That's because he's never seen us. We are very good at what we do Lindie."

"What is that exactly."

"Why don't you come to our show?"

"When?"

"Well, this afternoon. Bring your brother." Another one of them turned and smiled as she handed Rina a drink.

"Oh hi." she said to my head. "I'm Dehlia."

"I'm Lindie" I mouthed and pointed to myself.

She smiled sweetly. 'I know who you are Lindie."

"But how?"

"We came here to meet you. To show you something amazing."

'Well, THIS is pretty cool" I thought and swept between the porch and myself.  My brother blew on the ant nest.

"The show will start soon. We will see you over in the field." the women smiled and turned to the others.  Slowly, each looked at me.  They all nodded.  I felt funny. Almost tripping over Joe, I lifted him by his collar and dragged him up the street to the drug store for candy.  we waited until we heard the calliope before going over to the field behind the old school house.

I saw all the kids going over.  I was a little disappointed.  I thought I was special, but I guess everyone was invited to the show.

"Here Lindie. Come over this way..." I heard Rina again and began to search the crowd.  She waved and nodded for us to have a seat close to the front.  I felt a little better.  The lights dimmed and the rest of the kids got quiet. It was really dark.  Then I heard a squawking... suddenly there was a loud boom and a cloud of smoke and all these animals: parrots, a seal, a lizard of some sort, rabbits... everything! It was amazing.  The people my dad had called fruits were dressed as clowns and people from different lands like Egypt and Greece and Italy... I know because I have seen costumes like that in our history book. Oh we clapped and laughed and watched like zombies.  Then Joe began to cry.  He was afraid of the clowns.  He was really sobbing and pulling at me to take him home.

"It's almost over Joe...just... wait..."

"No Lindie... NOW I wanna go NOW..."

"Lindie, wait, the best part is coming." I heard Rina pleading with me.

I stood and grabbed Joe's hand angrily.  He was bolting for the door... well the tent flap and he was bawling like a lamb to slaughter.

"Oh come ON Joe... it's all in fun...." and Rina called me one last time.

"Lindie. The best part... come back in. Joe will calm down. He will be all right. Lindie..." and then there was nothing.

No laughter, no smell of popcorn or sawdust no "ooo's and ahhh's" just nothing. Joe and I stopped. I gripped his hand tighter.

"Lindie. Come back inside.  We are waiting for you."

"Lindie. Please please take me home. Lindie I am scared. Please Lindie"

"Lindie. come back to us. We want to show you something amazing." It was Dehlia this time.  She was peeking through the flap; grinning. Her mouth seemed wrong. It was too wide, too long like it took up half her face or she needed to unhook it to open and take a bite..." she crooked her finger and smiled at me.

I turned and ran. I dragged Joey behind me and just kept telling him to keep up and c'mon. Then there was a burning in my belly I picked up the pace. 

"Run Joey RUN." I could hear laughter in my ears ringing like a sour church bell. My chest was burning and my legs were screaming to stop but I didn't stop until we got to the house.  I slammed through the door and hollered for my mom.  She appeared in the doorway wiping her hands on her apron.

"What on EARTH?" she asked seeing Joe and me red-faced and panting. Sweat had stomped our hair to our foreheads and we had to be the color of dead snow; not grey not white.

"Mom ~ you won't believe what we saw..."

"Oh? At the circus?"

"CIRCUS?"

"Animals? clowns? all sorts of fun? Rina was just here telling me about it." and she stepped aside to reveal a guest in our home.

The woman stood next to my mom holding her teacup. Long fingers engulfed it as she cocked her head and smiled. "But you're home early Dear Lindie. Why is that? The other children are still there I'm certain."

"Why did you leave Lindie?" she prodded my mind.

"I--I--" I couldn't think. She was stirring up my thoughts.

"Well why don't you come with your parents tonight?"

"We can try again Lindie." and she stared right inside me.

"I don't want to." I shouted in my head and out my mouth.

"LINDIE! Don't be rude!" my mother scolded. "Miss Rina, thank you for your invitation. We would love to come."

"MOM!"

She flipped me a look that silenced me. I dropped Joey's hand and he drifted off down the hall. Rina didn't seem interested in him at all.

"Great. We'll see you later. I really must go get ready. We had a few mishaps today and so we'll need to perfect them for the grand finale.It will be unforgettable." and she giggled smiling over the top of her cup at me.

I waited until I saw her down the steps.  "I won't go Mom and neither should you. It's wrong. It's dangerous. They're..."

"Fruits." Joe said under his breath.

Mom stopped and laughed a little "Joe. Don't talk like that."

"Momma don't go. Clowns are bad. Animals look funny and the whole thing feels... rotten."

Mom stopped and looked at both of us. "No? No show tonight?"

"No."

"We'll see."

Supper was eaten in silence.  My father assumed we had screwed up during the day and had been punished. We cleaned the dishes when it was over and waited while they spoke in hushed tones.  I knew they were deciding on whether to go.  They came and told us we wouldn't have to go.

"But we are going with the Dearlys for a little while."

"Oh God NO"

"What's wrong with the Dearlys?"

"Well Mike is a little weird...ya know..."My father chimed in.

"STOP!" my mother play-slapped him.

Joe and I begged and cried for them to stay with us. We worked ourselves up so bad Joe threw up. I was sobbing and pulling at them. I threw myself against the door. I knelt and hugged their knees.

"Honestly Lindie. Stop this. Your dad and I will be back soon. We told you you don't have to go but we would like a night out without you. Believe it or not...we need that..." they smiled at each other.

They could not be stopped.  They waltzed out the door and headed for the carnival.

I cried. Told them I loved them and shut the door.  I rushed up the stairs and began to pack.  I told my brother to do the same.

"Why Lindie?"

"We gotta go Joey."

"Where?"

"Yes, Lindie. Where will you go?" the voice was sweet and curious.

"Shut up. Nowhere."

"Really? Not your grandma's house? You think the bus will take you there?"

"Shut UP. No."

"We'll find you Lindie. You are like us. You belong with us. Ohhh look. Your parents are here Lindie."

"Leave them alone." I warned.

"Want that?"

"Yes."

"then come to us Lindie. It's an even trade."

My heart hurt. My brain itched and I began to cry.

"Let me alone."

"Come here Lindie. You can save them. Save them all. Just come here to us. "

I went to Joe's room and hugged him.  He smelled like Oreos. "Love ya Squirt. See ya in a few."

"Where ya going Lindie?"

"Gonna go give it one more try with mom and dad."

"Bring em home Lindie. I'm really  scared."

"Don't be. I'll fix it." And I looked through the open window.  Evanroode swayed in the breeze but no jingle. His wings seemed to be waving good bye.

I walked across the field; my legs as heavy as anvils. My heart pounded in my throat and the tears that drenched my cheeks were hot with fear and anger.

I heard a lot of laughing from the tent that was surrounded by torches. At the corner, sat a large generator that lumbered and choked, sputtering gas fumes as it lit dim naked light bulbs inside the big top; throwing soft shadows at the canvas walls. The adults were standing with wine cups or beer and smiling as they spoke to all the "fruits" My dad slipped his arm around mom's waist, leaned in and kissed her cheek.  She smiled at him and leaned in to return it. Then the ringmaster clapped his hands and they fell silent.  He said the children had enjoyed the show so much they wanted to do something special for them all tonight.  I watched as one of the clowns pulled down the flap and stood in front of it.

The lights went out. There was a rustling and graveled whispers.  I moved closer,stepping over the knots of wires and reaching for the flap; slowly pulling it back. There was a startled scream and a series of shrieks.  My face was veiled by the smell of warm copper. My ears assaulted by the thick tearing of cloth and flesh. I heard my mother scream for my dad and I stepped inside.

The ghouls were devouring my town, my friends, my friends' families. There were pieces and chunks of bodies everywhere. The grass was squishy; gooey and red. My stomach lurched and I fell to my knees. I searched the darkness around the cries of the dying and heard my mother and father whimpering.  Rina and Dehlia sat with them.

"Welcome Lindie." they smiled. I shuddered at their dark pooling eyes and their gaping mouths filled with a few wide sharp teeth.  In between, shreds of skin dropped gluttonously leaving smears of blood along their chins and lips. They slurped at them like gory pasta. 

"Not them." I begged. "Please let them go."

They smiled and sniffed them as if they were fine wines. "But we're so hungry Lindie. "

I slammed my eyes shut and winced. Rina leaned forward and handed me something small and warm. 'Try it. It's... MaGuire Tartar..." and the two monsters reeled in laughter. She pushed it up to my nose, forcing it in to my mouth. I squirmed and looked away but the morsel was on my lips. I tasted blood and gagged. I lowered to all fours and threw up. My parents tried to comfort me but were restrained.  Around us, the town was dying; being ripped to shreds.

"Let them go." I said wiping my sleeve across my mouth. 

"It is a trade Lindie. You or them." and Dehlia traced a finger along my father's throat.

"Why me?"

"Because we spoke to you Lindie and you came."

"What will happen..."

The women laughed; their gnarled teeth still polluted with their meal.

My mother was in shock, shaking and clutching at my dad who couldn't take his eyes off me. "No Lindie. don't do this." he said.

Rina turned to him and gouged his cheek. "Be QUIET" she hissed and turning sweetly to me she raised her eyebrows.

"It's your choice."

"Why this town?"

"It was simply on the map and we needed to eat." she said in my head. 

"You do this all the time?"

"Only when we need to."

"And what do you do with the survivors?"

"There are none."

"So the town is dead whether I come with you or not?"
" Those who did not come will never know and those who did will not speak of it. Ever. Fear is powerful.  We will take you with us...as insurance."

"What will I eat?"

She smiled again.  We looked like we were talking though there was no sound.

"Let me walk them out. I want to know they made it."

She and Dehlia graciously let my parents up who immediately grabbed me and held me. The knot in my chest was hot and heavy; the tears were steady. 

"I love you." was all we could say to each other.

They held each other and began to stagger toward the woods; towards home. I turned to see Rina and Dehlia leaning on each other grinning with dark triumph. 

"Let me watch them go. I want to be sure you don't ... go against your word." I wiped my face. They shrugged and left me to my misery.  

"Don't think of running." they thought to me. "It won't work."

"I wouldn't dream of it." I sulked
Turning, I saw them go back to the feast.  There was little screaming or moaning now. I heard jowls smacking and the grunts of animals feeding. I saw my parents at the edge of the trees. I leaned against the canvas and the gennie, burning my leg. Pulling away with a hiss, it came to me that quickly ... before I had time to think about it.  It was my saving grace.

I plucked the torches near by and laid them at the base of the generator.  Then walked as calmly as I could over the dead, passed my "new family" to the other entrance.

There was only a little popping noise before the fire crept along the edge of the old canvas. The fiends were so frenzied, that by the time someone realized there was a fire, it was too late. The smoke was too thick and the confusion of the ghouls too great. They could not get out. 

Rina and Dehlia were shouting in my skull. Then they shrieking in pain. I watched the ghouls' own flesh bubble and peel away in the only thing hungrier than them; the flames of the fire licked that sickening patch of ground clean.

I ran screaming toward my mom and dad who heard the boom as the gennie blew. We carried each other sobbing all the way home; then to the hospital for treatment of my burns.

The papers told a horrific story of faulty wiring and old equipment that caused the deaths of forty people and the entire circus staff. The fire was so swift and hot that most bodies were unrecognizable. I was the lone survivor but declined interviews.

Rina was right. Fear is powerful.

And so I lie here in bandages; surrounded by balloons and get well cards.  They say I will be fine; only a few scars. My parents sleep here every night as does Joey.  It's stifling and hot being so late in the summer. One night, they opened the window for some air.

and I thought I heard my name on the breeze.




I know, it IS a long one and not one I liked editing in the middle of the night ~ I hope you had time to read it. I think it is pretty well rounded and comes along nicely.  It was tough for me to stick it out. As has been pointed out ... I tend to rush things and end too quickly. I think this one came to a maddening hault; like the crazy train pullin in to looney town. heehee. Well I hope it gave you a chill or seven. It did me.

Thanks for coming over to hang out. You're such good company.