The Lady with the Lantern

 When the fire gets low and the voices quiet, she always comes up.  The lady with the lantern.  Now the stories often vary: She lost her baby and searches these woods looking for it; crying and wailing.  Some hear the woman while others hear a baby.  She was murdered and is trying to warn others to save them from a similar fatal end.  She was a woman scorned and is seeking revenge on all way-ward men...it doesn't matter. She will scare the shit out of you. This I know.

We had just put the last log on and were slumped back in our chairs; happily buzzed and a little sleepy.  One by one friends drifted off to the house and warm beds.  I stayed.  I watched the stars and steadied my gaze for satellites.  I have no idea what time it was; late.  I began to drift.  Having been in the woods for most of my life, I am not a scaredy-cat.  Usually, a shift in the brush is a deer. The dark splash in the lake, a beaver or a restless duck.  Coyotes and bear make their own special kind of debuts.  But a light? Well, that's different.  

I really thought I was dreaming.  It was small and "faded" but make no mistake it was a light and it was moving toward me.  The other thing you need to know (or reminded), is that I live within shouting distance of about four houses.  I simply thought someone was out "prowlin".  What got my Spidey senses tingling was the location of this light.  It was out in the water.  Our lake is small and no motors are permitted so you can hear the gentle slapping of  paddles against the water.  This was not true.  Silence. Still it kept coming.  I sat up and forward in my chair glaring at the dark for a shape to appear.  Nada.  Having had enough  to drink and not enough sleep, I wiped my eyes, gruffed at the dark and headed up the yard toward my house and my own comfy bed.  

I got to the porch and felt cocky enough to turn around.  The light was just along the shore which is brightly bathed in the lights from several porches.  Still, there was no shape or object to see.  I stared at it and it simply crept closer.  I dismissed the nip of fear in my gut as leftover margarita but stepped in and for the first time in years, locked the door.  I even found myself leaning back into the drapes and watching ~ waiting for someone to head up to the house.  The light seemed to fade into the brush.  

"Stupid chicken shit" I mumbled to myself and wandered through the kitchen to my office facing the lake.

The light was suddenly in front of me and there was a thick thud as a form pressed itself against the glass.

It's fingers were long and bony, like a piano players' and it was dressed in a filmy white nightshirt/gown.  The hair on it was long but matted with silt from the bottom of the lake and the brown slimy roots of dead lily-pads. The eyes. My God, the eyes...they were watery grey gaping holes surrounded by peeling clumped flesh.  Its mouth gaped and dark water spilled from it with invisible syllables as it choked at me. I leaped back, stumbling into the side table.  I rounded its corner and  tried to convince myself it would save me somehow.  I looked to the left and right seeing that those sliding doors were still open.  All I wanted was to lock them.  I scrambled around and flipped their locks.  Each time, the figure met me at the entrance but never came in.  It stood, pressed and "spoke".  I stumbled back and fell into the couch.  It stopped and watched me, tilting its head as if confused.  Its shoulders slumped and it lowered the light it seemed to be carrying. Then it dragged away, looking sadly back at me, heading down the yard and back to where it started my nightmare. 

I sneaked back to the window peering from the curtain like a child in a mother's skirt.  It wasn't looking but steadily heading back to the water.  I don't know why I went to the door or why in God's name I stepped out.  I walked behind it ~ far behind it, all along the shore, through my neighbors' yards to the dead end.  The woods.  Its soft little light was never out of my sight. I saw its nightdress trailing behind, tattered and goopy with filth. I heard a soft tread and smelled stale, dead water.  I followed it to a clearing; an old, failed development site where it stopped and turned.  Everything in my body went numb. Without warning and with incredible speed it raced toward me stopping inches from my face.  I was paralyzed.  It studied me, shifting its head back and forth, leaning in, seeming to take in the smell of me.  It touched my hair.  The tears rushing from my eyes were hot and salty.  I felt bile in my throat.  It reached up and like a frustrated parent, cupped my jaw ~ an icy grip and turned my head sharply to a dark patch of overgrowth.  It leaned in and put its lips to mine whispering something into my mouth, my soul.  The screaming was raw and raspy as I broke free and ran blindly back to my house where I puked and sobbed until light peeked above the trees promising me it was over. I sat balled up on the sofa twirling my hair.  My eyes wide and staring; not really seeing anything.

"What the fuck?" one housemate claimed handing me their coffee.  "I told you to stay out of the tequila.  When will you listen? Did you barf on the window? Duuuuuude...no bueno."

I remained stoic.  Everyone gathered and poked.  Good humor and ribbing from those who know me best.  But when I began to cry, they changed their tunes and I recanted my story.  

No one spoke  I'm pretty sure no one believed me.  So I challenged them to take a walk with me.  Down the road, into the old clearing and over to the clump of tangled briars. I stepped right in it and began to rip at it. I was unstoppable and my head was filled with shouts, voices all unintelligible...but I had..to...dig...

"Ew Don't that's ivy!!!"

I couldn't stop myself, I heard a low grunt and growl as I ripped away to the worthless, dead earth. I dropped to my knees and began to shovel with my bare hands.

No one spoke but all stared.

At the tattered white cloth blowing gently in the wind.

Help me.

And a Happy Halloween to you all.  I hope you have shared a shiver with me.  Be safe. Eat candy for breakfast and enjoy!! I thank you for your visit.  I am glad for the time we share.

Hullaballoo

 There are moments when the Universe, God or Whomever you connect with shows you something;  a reminder about what's important or a good old fashioned butt-kicking to tell you to get over yourself.   I got just such a something.

I've been struggling with what seems like a lot for what feels like a very long time.  If you know me, you know I don't ask for help; not even when I need it.  Sometimes I send a funny card or flip a crazy text ~ I figure we all have currents to paddle against in this river of life and I'd rather reach out with  a hug or a laugh rather than weigh anyone down with my leaking water wings and cement shoes. Believe it or not, laughter is wonderful medicine for me. It clears my head and channels power to my inner Wonder Woman.  I might not always be happy but I try to always be cheerful.

 I will confess that I have been rather put out with what I feel is more than my share of troubles lately.  I am feeling very put upon and angry.. maybe frustrated is better.  Add to the mix circumstances that just continue to keep me from my favorite touchstones.... I'm bent.  There. I said it... typed it at least. I notice that being away from them makes me crabby and sad. So to change direction, find positive and mend my own fences,  I've been helping others ~ listening to acquaintances, strangers... all needing to vent, to cry, to... you get it.  But I was running out of gas for even THAT.  I was throwing the ultimate pity party:  

 "....but I've been patient.  I've been kind and I've lent an ear or several never asking in return or topping their misery and I am just... MORE MISERABLE!"

Pardonez mi Francese ... mais... WTF???? No translation needed.

And I'm bent.  Said it again...getting easier.  Ha, the confessions of a self-proclaimed martyr.

But today... today I am humbled.  I get it.  It isn't about me, my troubles, my sadness, loneliness or need for company.  Today...

I unbent myself thanks to a big little something:

A bird.  A young downy woodpecker.  It was snacking at my bird feeder and got spooked.  It flew "SMACK" into my window right at my face while I sat at my desk whining inside.  The toddlers instantly dashed out to see what evil had tried to attack us; well, not Birdie.  She went in the wrong direction, got tired of wondering what was going on and took a nap in the middle of the carpet.  To my surprise, Tall Man did not chew it or even paw it.  He backed up and let me see.  I AM the matriarch of our tiny pack you know.  MAKE WAY FOR THE QUEEN MOTHER FOR SHE SHALL KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!!!  And there it was. I picked it up and sat with it.  I spoke softly and rubbed its tiny little head.  Its heart was thrumming at a pace  I thought would surely cause it to burst.  It panted and wiggled in my hand. It shook its tail feathers (much like the song) but wouldn't move it's legs, grasp or vocalize.  I actually went inside and got a syringe. (Yeah I know ~and all truths be told I looked up with sweaty hands, a quick heartbeat myself and made a comment about "I'm SO getting in to Heaven for this...")  I gave it water, I softened food from the feeder.  All no-go's.  So I just sat with it, cooing and making soft little chirps.  I stroked its tummy and new flight feathers.  It relaxed and slept.  It woke startled but would snuggle down and sleep some more, all the while panting ( a sign of pain and anxiety) The dogs sniffed and licked but never fussed or tried to taste it. God forbid they think "This toy sucks! It only squeaked ONCE!!!" and I kept it away mostly because well... giant monsters jamming their cold wet noses and slapping at it with wet sticky tongues... anxiety... I know I would be right there too.I got a little towel and swaddled it, keeping it close and checking on it, hopeful that it would stand alone, flap it's wings... but deep down I knew.

It was paralyzed and wouldn't make it. When there was no more pain or suffering, I buried it with my makeshift woobie so it wouldn't be cold. I kept it from dying alone and scared.  I cried for it.

Life is too short and fragile to get caught up in hullaballoo ...laugh, love and hug someone, anyone or maybe anything. It makes a difference.

Simon and Garfunkel Hate the Outdoors

 She had been warned, begged, scolded to not hike alone.  She listened patiently, always smiled and thanked them for their concern.  They didn't get it.  It was her freedom, a reset from the stresses of work, family...something just for her.  Everyone has their "something" and she thought it strange that no one could accept hers.  But in the tall grass, it didn't matter. She felt good, strong, at peace.  She thought nothing of it that day, later than usual, when she bundled up her pack and gear and wandered off.  She did the usual safety checks: an extra map in her pocket, a text or two for a time stamp and the coordinates left on the table as to her whereabouts. Done.

She parked the car and smiled to herself feeling the usual "start out jitters"  The excitement of getting lost for a little while and just melting into Terra Firma. She had picked one of her more challenging trails; across water, rock hopping and some hills.  She knew she would sleep like the dead when her day ended. She anticipated it.

The sun was high meaning she only had a couple of hours before the sun would set and darkness swallowed the woods. It wasn't long before she stopped hearing the rumble of trucks on the road and the barks of weekend campers.  A stillness settled as the wildlife pulled back to see this woman walking quietly, sometimes singing, or muttering softly to herself. The woods shrugged and went along with its day.  Her breath slowed and her gait became more gentle; less harried.

She ignored the first crack off trail, dismissing it as a deer or some other native.  The second caused her pause.  She stood stock still and waited.  Nothing. She tugged at her strap and flicked the lid to her repellent spray.  She walked on trying to ignore the hairs standing up on her arms and the sweat prickling at the back of her neck.  Then there was the third time; the charm.  Solid footsteps and breaking brush caused her to step off the path, back into some thick vines where she crouched, unsheathed her knife and counted her breath: "innn two three four ouuuut two three four"~ softly~ softly.  Her eyes darted back and forth across the trail as she strained her ears to listen for the slightest movement.  Again, nothing.  But a light breeze brought to her a gentle whiff of something....soap? bug spray? Hell, it could have been Poo-Pourri for all she cared and so she tucked in and made herself smaller.  Her kidneys panicked and announced they were scared and demanded to be relieved.  She rolled her eyes and pushed off the thought. Whatever it was was watching too.  She knew it.  Now began the waiting game. Who would juke?  Her mind began to create scenarios: one looked something like a bad Sylvester Stallone movie."Were there good ones?" a tiny voice in her head asked. "Later discussion topic" Fear and Reason echoed inside her skull. The next two options were going back the way she came or moving on.  She tried to remember the last trail switch she'd made which would give her what she needed ~ the shortest route.  Another breeze and a stronger smell.  Her back began to ache so she rocked forward onto her knees.  The twig snapped like a firecracker.  Her kidneys shrieked and cried a little.  She held her breath and closed her eyes.  

There was an angry swoosh as it bolted onto the trail.  She almost expected to hear "Ahhh~HAA!" or "Olly-olly-oxen freeee" but there was confused silence. She closed her eyes tighter willing herself invisible, praying her brown jacket was enough to keep her hidden. The seconds dragged as her nightmare stood and did what she did; listened, watched...planned.  A soft hum trickled to her ears a song she knew: "Sounds of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel. That tiny voice began to sing along.  Fear and Reason told her to shut the fuck up.  A tear slipped down her cheek.  She was unsure which voice in her head gave it to her.  Her kidneys pouted at her awkward angle and warned her again of their needs.  She could only grind her teeth and try to focus....ahead or back ahead or back....

There was movement; a few steps toward her.  She imagined herself taking root in the dirt.  Her fingers gripping the knife for an outward strike, her opposite thumb sliding silently to the spray button. She lowered her spine and craned her neck to watch the shadow step closer.  It was a man. He leaned in and swiped his arm through the vines above her.  Leaves and twigs, berries and stale pollen plopped and drifted across her face, into her eyes and nose.  The stinging was relentless.  Her eyes leaked like Niagara Falls and she felt the burn of a sneeze.  "Jesus wept" Fear screamed..."Stop it...STOP THE SNEEZE" She held her breath as his arms now began to beat the bushes and move down the trail.  He stopped and picked up a stick and started to stab into them.  She prayed he didn't double back.

"We go back" Reason announced sharply.  "When he goes around the bend and we can't hear him..That will save us. Legs..LEGS are ya in there?  Get ready kids.  We need ya. Kidneys? Pipe down.  Stomach...don't go weak on us now.  Everyone get ready...." She felt herself nodding in approval. Her mouth was dry but she could feel a scream parked heartily in the back of her throat.  She would save it.

Her ears concentrated and her eyes focused.  The sun was dipping below the trees.  She would be in the dark very soon.  Was that good?  She tried to remember if she packed her headlamp.Was he sitting right in front of her? Was he just out of sight?  Had he gone home feeling proud of the prank he'd pulled?  Had he killed someone else?  Her kidneys made good on their threat.  Her pants were wet and with the cool evening, she shivered and cursed them.  As punishment, if she made it out, she would sell one.  Bitches.  Pansy bitches she scolded and shivered again.

Reason began to get restless and egg on the others.  "Get ready.  It's almost time.  I can feel it. We are gonna run like the wind and reach safety.  WE got this...."

Fear was more reserved..."I'm scared.  Wait a little longer.  What if..."

"Shut up you pussy or I'll give you something to whine about!" came Anger's reply.

She shook her head to quiet them all.  She inhaled deeply, slowly, quietly...she smelled nothing.  That was her queue. She rocked back on her heels and wiggled her toes.  They were groggy and burning.  Her legs began to twitch signaling their readiness.  Her hands clenched around her weapons of choice.  She tried to swallow but almost choked on the dust.  She wondered if she would have any molars left after all the grinding.  She squared her shoulders to distribute the weight of her pack. She looked like a Quasimodo prepping for the hundred yard dash.  

Reason fired the gun in her head and she burst through the brush and tangled vines.  They tried to hold her, keep her safe but she wouldn't listen. She kicked and pulled free, stuttering out onto the trail and began to run.  At first her legs felt made of cement and they shook with uncertainty as she willed them to work.  Then she heard a sharp crack and heavy thumping coming from behind.  The bastard had simply waited her out.  Now it was a foot race.  Every voice was screeching in her skull, all systems were firing and Fear had dumped every ounce of adrenaline into her burning muscles.  He thundered behind her; so close, she swore she felt his breath.  She made the choice and tugged her strap, dumping her pack off her shoulders and onto the trail. right in his path.  He stumbled and grunted.  Fear picked up the pace with her new and improved lighter chassis .  There was just enough light for her to see the trail.  She took exaggerated steps to try to keep from tripping.  Her ankles rolled over wobbled stones and tree roots but she kept the machine rolling.  She knew she was close to her car, praising herself that she always carried her key in her pocket never her pack.  

"Smart girl" Reason cheered. "Keep going...almost got it...." 

"WAIT WAIT WAAIIIIIT" Fear shouted ..."Listen!" 

She flicked her head left and right, glancing and listening.  Silence.  No footfalls.  No brush.

Her chest burned. Her legs whimpered and begged to slow.  She hopped off the path and ducked under an old log.  She filled in the space between it and the ground.  Again she waited.

Nothing.  She turned her head and wretched.  Spitting and swiping at her mouth she slowly crawled out of her niche.  No shadows.  Silence loomed.  She stepped back onto the path and walked to the side of it along the pines needles and dirt to avoid the crunching gravel and twigs in the middle.  Around the bend was her car.  She only had a few yards to go.  She could see it.  Her tears fell freely.  Her breath became happy and ragged.  She began to stagger like a drunk coed heading for the dance floor for her favorite song

The flashlight blinded her.  The scream she had tucked away for safe keeping erupted with such force, she knocked it to the ground.

"JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH!" came the shout.

Fear stopped her and forced her to hunch; one arm pulled in tightly with her knife, the other perched and ready to unload every ounce of spray in the bottle.  She was still screaming; trying to tell this man she needed help, wanted help but there were no words, only gravelly sobs.

"Ranger! I'm a fucking Ranger! Miss are you alright? MISS"

She lowered her arms, taking in his words.  Her screams became gasps.  She felt very tired and small.

He approached her slowly and quietly spoke.  He had his truck.  A man had reported seeing in earlier and leaving the park, noticed it was still there. Concerned, the ranger had come to check.

She smiled and pulled her arms down, re-sheathing her knife, tucking her spray in her pocket.  

"Let me get you to the shelter." he said and reached for her.  She stiffened and he put up his hands.  Going to the truck, he fetched a blanket and held it out. 

"I'll drive myself" she hoarsely whispered.  

"Let me take you.  There is an EMT at the station now.  We thought we'd have a bigger problem on our hands. There are people waiting to head out to find you....We can send one of them back for your car"

She nodded and got in the truck.  It rumbled to life and he backed out of the trailhead onto the park road.  It wasn't too far to the station.  She felt her body begin to fade, let down.  The ranger reached up and turned on the radio. She caught a whiff of soa...

"Hello Darkness my old frieeeeend....."

 

 

Hey everyone! Nice to see you too! Someone close to me asked if I was still writing.  I am ... just not putting it out there.  I thought I would share this ditty and see what happens.  I was hiking today with my dog and another hiker (male) was behind me.  He followed me ... even on a couple of less traveled paths.  I stopped finally and let him pass.  No need to be upset or nervous just let him go; but I tell you what; my imagination took off...this is where it ended up.  Enjoy your day and let's not be such strangers. Deal? 

Loathsome

He wondered  what he'd seen in her ~ ever.  He batted the envelope containing the papers against his side.  Freedom was in there; all possible with a signature from her ugly, daggered claws.  He could see the light of a new life and was giddy at the thought of being safe and happy again; no more violence.  He hated her.  Her name brought a sour burning into his throat.  The only good thing that ever came out of that woman was the son they'd had.  If he didn't get away from her soon and take their boy along, all would be lost.  A signature.  He looked to the sky and called upon whatever forces were listening:

 "Please just make the bitch sign...." he prayed. "Grant me this and I'll visit on Sundays.  Not all of them but some... Amen."  

He wasn't sure why, but he smoothed his hair and shirt, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he ventured into the demon's lair.  He puffed into his hand and made sure garlic was not lingering; old habits he supposed or he was avoiding any chance of displeasing the Devil. He rang the bell and straightened up.  His knees wobbled. What the Hell? Was he actually a bit nervous?  Fearful more likely.  He hoped this would be a hospital-free stop. He wished she was dead. This would have been so much simpler if she were just in a bag at the morgue.  He had fantasies about it...he was stuck waiting and daydreaming on the porch.

She paced around all morning.  She had done her hair three times and changed clothes a dozen.  She put on her strappy-come-get-me shoes and donned a necklace he'd bought for her on their first vacation.  She had been barking at the crotch goblin incessantly since yesterday; demanding he clean, stay out of the way, get his meals, stop making a mess, quit being so childish...just grow up and be a man. She sighed into her wineglass with exhaustion created by her single parenting. The boy floated about, did what he could and stayed out of view, appearing only when she was in need of a bottle opener.  She hated that it had come to this; signing papers as a testament to their failure as a family but she just couldn't stand him anymore.  He was such a douche.  She had ruined her body to have this kid and he just wanted to up and leave; not even trying to solve problems.  She had a few that could use attention and understanding; sure, but he wasn't flawless. She gritted her teeth and prayed someone upstairs would save her temper since last time, he'd needed stitches. She wished he was dead.  She dreamed of smashing his head with a shovel and putting him under ground.  Then she would grow tomatoes or corn like that Johnny Depp movie...One more coat of war paint on her lips and she was ready.

They squared off at the door;  smiles tight and voices high.  Politeness oozed out of their pores.

"You look amazing" he glided, not meaning a word.

"Stop. It's not all me, I've been working with a trainer."she waved him off carelessly, but soaked up the compliment.

 "Worth the money?" he barked.  She stopped and clenched her fists at her sides.  He winced knowing he'd screwed up already.

"I have earned it, don't you think?" she sweetly hissed without turning.

 "I brought the papers." he admitted in a rush.

"I figured." She pouted and looked down.  "Hey, want to have a glass of wine and celebrate?  Cheers to our new lives?" Her grin was a little too large and toothy. 

He cocked his head a little.

"Where's..."

"Oh he's around. You know how he gets.  Such a moody little ghost." she rolled her eyes.

The boy sat on the steps, glaring into the kitchen.  His stomach twisted and lurched.  His dad had run like a chicken shit and left him here alone with a woman who understood motherhood to be a staggering combo of bruising, smacking and shouting.  She had enough cunning to make it look like his dad had done it, crying to anyone within ranget; acting oh-so distraught and afraid in order to demand a higher payout in the divorce.  People climbed her cause like a tree; feeling sorry for her, demonizing the husband and  forgetting to ask for any other perspective.  No one ever spoke to this child with a front row seat, because... Who'd believe a young boy?  She'd been sure to rush ahead of him in the odd instance of inquiry, declaring him silenced due to the trauma.  Then she'd pinched him so hard the tears welled up and spilled over.  She'd frowned and blinked with large sad eyes. "See?" her face pleaded with authorities who took pity.

 His dad was just grateful that she didn't know about the young girls he'd been meeting and screwing from the on-line sites.  He was more than happy to dole out the money which his mom needed to support a drug habit her new trainer had helped her start.  The obstacle son wished they would stay together to save two normal people.  He absently rubbed the slash on his cheek from a rocketing cup used to encourage him to finish his homework faster.

They stood around and made nicey-nice.  His mother took out the wine she'd sweetly begged the boy to open the night before and poured two hefty slugs.  They gulped, grinned, opened the envelope, getting to the crux of the matter, clicking pens like swords..."En guard" the boy muttered and rested his chin in his hands. War erupted quickly,  the verbal punches landing solidly on previously wounded pride.  Experience serving as memory, the boy knew to bump up a couple of steps to disappear from their sight  maintain his view and earshot with a quick escape rout; better safe than sorry.  Her fist connected quickly with her soon to be ex's shoulder, clearly emphasizing her displeasure with the last minute addendums in custody.

 "You sonofaBITCH"  

  He looked like a guppy out of water: eyes huge and mouth wide. The boy mimicked and smiled to himself as the melee unfolded.  His father lunged, grabbing and shaking her, forcing her to the ground where he quickly straddled her body.  The words were muffled by rage and spit. The boy tried not to giggle hearing the eff-bomb AND the C-word bubbling shamefully from this grown man's mouth.  She flailed and gasped but there was just too much hate built up and the man couldn't stop.  From, the vantage point, their loving son heard a light "pop" and then, the woman went limp.  Dad froze, trying to catch his breath.  It was his turn to tremble.  He nudged her and spoke softly, even apologized, but done was done.  And now he had to figure out what to do. He crumpled next to her on the floor, draining his glass.  He swiped at his face, choosing to suck down the dead woman's wine as a valuable first step to a solution.  He dropped his head in his hands and wept; not for her, but for the trouble that was beginning to crush him like an anvil. He drew in a jagged breath and coughed.  There was pain behind his eyes, like white fire; migraine he figured.  But then some cramping; more coughing as his lungs burned and tightened.  His color drained as at last he understood.  He'd been poisoned.

"That BITCH!" he spat and clumsily tried to jump to his feet, grabbing for his phone he'd laid on the counter with the envelope. His hands scraped and scooted along the empty surface as he groped.  A small "tsk" flicked in the air and he looked up, startled by his son's presence.  His eyes darted to his phone, in the boy's hands who had quietly witnessed it all..  His father staggered, tried to speak but his limbs all seemed to be turning to jelly.  Foam bubbled from him, white at first then fading to a dark crimson. His coughs sent it spattering thickly against the wall, the counter, the floor....

"oooo bad news Dad." the boy shook his head slowly.  "not gonna get the papers signed.  Not gonna get that new life filled with young giggly pussy." he wrinkled his nose as if he'd smelled a fart.

Understanding what was truly happening, the man made one last lunge.  The boy stepped to the side with ease and patiently waited while his father began to seize and collapse.  Lifeless.

He dialed the phone and began to cry.

The police came and shook their heads.  Murder suicide in front of their own child. What kind of man would do this? What woman?   They would be touted as disgusting and loathsome.  Which of course they were.  Their selfish, awful secrets were dragged through the mud while the boy remained silent; stoic, and was never really questioned.  It was very clear that she had poisoned the wine and he had choked her to death.  That was the best gift his dad had given him; his father's loss of control.  It steered all suspicion from the little monster who had poisoned them both.  He was immediately scooped up by his aunt and uncle, who fussed over him constantly.   He didn't know them well but they seemed nice.  He hoped they were.

For their sakes.

God Rest Ye Tiny Figurines....

 This is my season... okay it's my SECOND season because I am passionate about all things autumnal but I am reasonably controlled with my obsession when it comes to snowmen, elves and the fat man in red.  I walk a fine line between elegantly tasteful and bawdy gauche with my lights, village, shiny balls and sparkly tinsel.  I decorate for a couple of days (now I know some who begin in July but your secret is safe with me..for now... but when I want that country ribbon for my mantle wrapping, you better come through or all bets are OFF ....Ho Ho Ho THAT!!) My children, angels from above, do their best to help and stay the hell out of the way.  My three amigos? Not so good at it.  Let me bestow my cheer upon you with a quick tale:

Saying: "It's not Christmas until Mah gets the glue gun out." I initially took offense to this perceived criticism.  But? With heavy sigh and shrugging shoulders, I confess its truth:

The village was unpacked and I was giddy with holiday excitement to reacquaint myself with my Grinch, Snowmen, Elf bakers, planters, Mr Lickenschtick and Sir Thomas Train who encircles the Village.  Each year commands a little different set-up because quite simply I can't remember shit and have usually spent too much time praising said Villagers for their outstanding ensembles.  "My Mrs. S... you look trim...Hey Grinchy! Your smile is EXCEPTIONALLY yellow this year.  What's that SMELL? Oh my G-you've outdone yourself..." and yeah maybe I have staged some incredibly epic battles between the good the bad and the snowballs but I only do it once a year.  Life is to be lived and it pays to BELIEVE

This also applies to my Nativity scene. I set it up and say a small prayer of thanks and ask Jesus what He wants for His Birthday.  I am humbled and ashamed when He whispers "World Peace" ... I was thinking a free ride on the donkey from the stable or a couple of cool homemade candies... But I move on.  All was set.   I was tingly and happy with everyone's station and began to shop, wrap and cook.  My children, angels from above, have confessed to performing WWE wrestling matches with the Holy Group in the Shed.  Apparently, Baby Jesus is the reigning champion and His Mom is SUPER PROUD.  She even has (upon their authority) taken on a Wise Man and the Chick with wings who is a Blabbermouth and can talk some Holy Smack. 

But "All is calm and all is bright"....

Enter the three Amigos.  Apparently, Mulligan punched Winston in the face while he was sleeping on the couch nearest the village and baking elves (whose responsibility is to deliver beautiful cakes to the others ...) This fired up my grumpy Russian and he jumped from the couch to retaliate.  The problem was that he misjudged the landing and skidded across my "mirror pond" and took out Sir Thomas, Mrs S and her trio of shrub planting helpers and? Yes, Mr Tallcake.  Winston broke both his arms and the delicious looking tall cake he was carrying to the Beard Barber Shop.  But that was not enough.  He charged after his brother to assert his Christmas authority.  Not to be outdone, Birdie who was sleeping in her Royal Cave of Misery and Hate of all that is k-9 came roaring out; complete with bed head and an attitude.  She snapped at Mulligan's ass, scared him and he jumped into the Stable sending Baby J rocketing into the village and the wagon of Mrs S and her potting soil.  Mary was knocked unconscious while the Wise Men were just that... wise and got the hell outta dodge.  But Blabbermouth? ohhhh no~ Hark! that Herald Angel Sang and did a nose dive onto the train tracks causing a complete break in the wings and when Sir Thomas came whirring around the mount to say a prayer and see if all was well... well.... I have included Mulligan's prayer for forgiveness, a village's prayer to survive the Christmas devastation and of course the real symbol of Christmas in our home...the friggin glue gun and the make-shift Holy Hospital.

May your day be merry and bright.

Thanks for giggling with me.  I do enjoy our time together.

He

Hello.
Let me introduce myself as my mom says it's polite.  I'm Mulligan.  Some of you know me as Tall Man, Stilts or Shithead but that was just when I ate off the counter after Mommie said not to~ but in my defense... she DID go out and leave the delicious chicken unattended... oh and then there was the pie... and the butter... but I digress. Let's move on and stay positive.

We have recently moved to a very fun place.  I used to know it by the phrase "Go Lake", but now it is "Home".  I have made many friends.  There is Fat Gus who does keg stands off my mom's hummingbird feeder.  There are other squirrels and chipmunks, birds with all SORTS of colors which are fun to chase and shout at. But to be clear,  I am just protecting the seeds and bark butter that Mommie puts out. She tells me all the time "not to be greedy" when I eat so I am simply sharing wisdom.  My mommie is wise.  Oh! And there are these really cool, tall puppies that are tan and have long faces with stubby white tails or they are tan and white spotted. They stare at me and I think they are shy but Mom doesn't let me play with them and I think she is selfish.  Please have a discussion with her on this for my sake because I just KNOW we could be deer friends.  Haha ~ dog humor.

Now I believe you humans just celebrated a party time.  I know this because there were a lot of people at my "home" and they all made yummy food, wobbly drinks and loud bangers with lights.  Mommie says those are okay and are just "fireworks" but it is scary lightening in a box for me and my sister.  We hid in the fort she built for us under the desk until it stopped.  Then my sister made a scared tee-tee on the rug, but Mommie wasn't even mad.  She just made big breaths and told us she loved us. Then she cleaned up.  She's cool like that.

So I am here to tell you it exists.  I have never seen it but Mommie sometimes whispers about it and so I think it's scary.  She just calls it.."He"  I think He comes at night.  Mommie and Daddy do their best to clean up and keep He from coming to our home.  I wasn't sure what would happen if He did.. but I am now and don't understand all the fuss.  He arrived late last night and rooted around in Mommie's stinkybin.  I would get in BIG trouble for this.  He knocked over over the bin and sorted it for Mommie ~ all over the yard.  I thought He did a great job and am unsure as to why Mommie muttered dirty words and slammed things around.  He pulled out the yogurt container, making sure it was empty by crushing it at the bottom. Although it made a blob on the grass, He did his best to clean it all up.  THEN He designated a special spot for your food holders and those sticks or scoops you eat with.  They must not taste very good so He just chewed them up and left them in a spitty pile. I guess that is recycling at its finest.  At last, He discovered the piece de resistance.  He spread out the butcher paper which wrapped Uncle Chas' pork ribs, and on it, put the bones, some shrimp butts from an appetizer He found, and a few leftover, dirty vegetables (not MY personal favorite ~ but from all appearances, He seemed to enjoy them immensely; so to each his own).  Well, He had quite a picnic right there on the lawn. I know how you guys like dessert so I thought it was nice that He got some too.  He ate the lightening boxes.  Or maybe he was just flossing (There you go Aunt Gwen ~ woodland creatures have good dental hygiene. Fear not). In the end, and after all He did, Mommie just got new black bags and shoved everything in them.  Each armful earned a different swear word but her favorite began with "F".  She messed up what He had worked through the night to accomplish so if you could just tell her to go easy on Him next time, I'd appreciate it because between you and me, I DID benefit a little since she couldn't clean it all up at once so I helped as fast as I could.  I am a good boy for that.

>Burp<

And the ribs WERE amazing.
Happy Holiday.
Love,
Mulligan.

The Corner (Chapter 3)

She got up and put on her clothes.  Even though it was Dress-up day, she chose pants and sneakers instead of her boots.  They made a loud "thuck" when she walked now because the glue didn't always hold and one buckle was missing but she still felt a little beautiful in them.  Her mom hadn't said a word.  Her hair was braided off to one side and a lovely pink balloon barrette slipped in elegantly.  She grinned and her heart skipped a little.  Her mom lifted her chin and wiped at a scratch along her cheek.

"I tell ya kiddo... you are certainly tumble dry.  Always scratched up..."  The little girl's smile faded just a wee bit.  "Did the tooth fairy give you money anyway?"

She nodded quickly. "Oh yes, she didn't even care that I didn't have my teeth"  She'd told her mom that she lost them on the playground ~ David had actually mashed her face into the dirt one day and her loose teeth had introduced themselves to a rock and some mud.  He'd been giving her a swirlie and when he'd pulled her head away, there they were like two shiny seashells on a dark beach.

"Well why don't you grab your jacket.  I sewed that tear."

Her daughter smiled wanly at the jacket and pulled a sweatshirt over her head.  No hood. She picked up her bag and stood at the door.  Her mom swiped at her chin and booped her nose. The little girl acted displeased and juked.  Mommy's phone beeped so she reached for it.  There was a smack at the door as David cupped his hands on the glass and peered down at her.  She backed away and wanted to run.  He grinned and bent his index finger in the "come here" way.  She felt her belly tighten and she shook her head.

"All righty, then all set."  Mommy opened the door and all but shoved her daughter into the hands of the Devil himself.  Her knees were wobbly and weak.  He roughly grabbed her hand and squeezed so hard her knuckles ground together.  Tears welled up.  Not even of the PORCH yet...

"Bye!" he smiled and pulled at his little victim.  They walked silently to the corner and he yanked her arm toward the path.  "This is it." she thought glumly.  She leaned away pulling him like a puppy on a lead but he yanked at her again. She lost her balance and almost fell.  "DON'T" he hissed half dragging her into the woods.

She listened and looked around trying to remember each tree and rock.  She hoped she could run away and escape like in those shows her mom watched after she thought her daughter was asleep.  She wondered if anyone would hear her cry or scream?  Would she?

His fist found the side of her head.  She collapsed to the ground.  She crawled on all fours through the rocks that bit her knees trying to get back or get out.  Which way?  He laughed and kicked her so hard she flipped over.  She balled up and covered her face.  Maybe he would just bury her.  She'd lie there and be glad if that was it.  Just no more pain. No more hitting or kicking or ....  She peeped one eye open and slammed it shut quickly.  He stood over her with a stick; a big one, raised over his head like a kung fu sword.  She exhaled slowly and waited.

Behind her eyelids she noticed something.  Darkness.  "I must be dying or dead." she thought.  "Huh.  Maybe there isn't any pain when you die.  Are there angels?" She waited.. and waited but realized it just got darker. She wasn't afraid of the dark.  Not since the dreams. Then there was a scream.  She covered her mouth thinking instinctively that it was her own.  But it wasn't.  She dared to open her eyes.  Her dreams had told her what to do.  She sat up and watched as they scrambled around her attacker.  He was terrified.  He jumped around in tiny circles trying to watch them all.  And there were so MANY! He swung his sword but they easily dodged it.  He stabbed at them and they laughed.  When he attacked, so did they.  If he swung at one,  another would rush in and bite him or scratch him. They had such long teeth and nails.  She hadn't noticed this about them before.  They were larger than she remembered when they visited her; with spiky tails and barbs along their backs.  They kind of looked like bats but with smooshy faces... oh and such tiny hands.  She was a little surprised because she had held them and they seemed soft to her, and gentle ~ these dreams were different.  But she wasn't upset.

David turned to her and called her name.  She looked up as if puzzled by his voice.

"You fucking idiot ~ help me!!" another one rushed in and bit him.  He yelped and turned on it.  A different one jumped on his back and pulled a clump of hair so big it left a naked spot on his head.  There was a sparkle of blood.  This made them even happier and more aggressive.  Another climbed on and chewed on his ear.  The tallest one cried out.  It was like a burp so she laughed and quickly covered her mouth.  The other dreams stopped and waited.  David was panting and bloody.  His clothes were torn and there was a dark spot between his legs.  She smiled at that, even giggled.  The big one walked straight up to him and sniffed him.  He snarled and crawled like a spider up his chest.  The two monsters were face to face.  Her dream held the bully's head in its hands and waved its knife like fingers at him, smiling and raising its eyebrows.  Then it snaked it's fingers into David's mouth and began to twist.  The first tooth made a grinding sound as the roots snapped and tore.  The boy shrieked in pain and fell to his knees.  The others moved in but did not touch.  There was a thick crackling pop as another tooth was eagerly liberated.  The dreams laughed and elbowed each other.  A third.  The boy rocked back as the pain threatened his consciousness.

She stood and towered over him.  Blood smeared his mouth and nose.  He shielded his swelling eyes and focused on her.  As he did, he cried out and dug his heels in to try to get away.  Her friends stopped him and held him tightly.  She grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.  She stuck her nose to his nose and shook him.


"All right you  piece of shit. I'm going to count to five and then they're  going to chase you.  If you make it to the corner...You know you'll be safe because my Mommy will see you.  If not? " She rocked back and let him go.  The gremlins had parted and left a pathway between them. He stared at her.

"One." she said with a smile, her eyebrows slightly raised.

The boy scrambled to his feet and looked around.  He was confused, not knowing which way to turn to get to the corner.  Her friends seethed forward at the sound of a quiet "TWO".  David just ran with no direction and off the path.

"THREEEEEE!"she squealed happily and he screamed, hearing all the little feet beginning to scratch and dig excitedly at the ground.

"FOURFIVE" the little girl laughed and swirled gleefully as her tiny little nightmares did exactly what they said they would..  She did not stay. They made her promise.  She walked back toward the entrance; the opposite way from which David had chosen.  She headed to the corner, turning only once when the leader's gravelly voice whispered her name.

"Happy Birthday." it smiled, something dark dripped from its mouth like chocolate syrup.  She smiled again and bunched up her hand, throwing each of them kisses.

For the first time in a long time, she walked to the corner unafraid.


And there we have it.  The End.  This one has been a very long time coming.  I had a song stuck in my head that really had a hold on me.  I was a victim of bullying when I was about this age. Some of these accounts are sadly real.  I did actually have someone walk me to and from school but he was a gentle giant and a kind boy that I fell secretly in love with... understandable, yes? What happened to the bully? That's for another time.  Thank you for stopping by.  I hope we can visit together again soon.

Until next time.