Thursday, May 28, 2015
MEMORIAL DAY 2015
Mama passed away in October 1998 and was buried at the National Cemetery at Quantico, Virginia. On a summer day Daddy and I went down to visit her and he got upset that there was no lush green grass over her grave or anywhere in her sector. Mama is buried in the last section on the left if you drive in and do the loop around the cemetery. We saw some men digging a grave not far from us and Daddy called them over and they called their supervisor who was in charge of the grounds. He was a very nice respectful person who explained that irrigation had not yet been plumbed into this section so the growing of grass was subject to rainfall and God's will. He told us he was also incharge of the grounds in a very old military cemetery in Alexandria and to my mind's eye I believe he was referencing Revolutionary War era. He also explaned to me out of Daddy's earshot that unlike the "six feet under" you always think about burials there was actually only eighteen inches above you. I'm glad Dad didn't hear that or that would have upset him, too. The grounds keeper managed to satisfy Daddy and I was happy for that. Robin and I visited Mama later that year and there was a beautiful patch of thick green grass over just her grave and the rest of the area looked the same as it did when I had visited with Dad. I thought that was so remarkable that the groundskeeper had done that. I always thought even though we never discussed it that Dad was upset because he knew he'd be joining Mom soon enough. Daddy passed in February 2009 and was buried with Mama. I always wished they had been buried in the cemetery on Main Street in Fairfax City where all of my relatives on Mom's side of the family are buried. I feel better knowing that they aren't down there at Quantico all alone now. Daddy's younger brother Lawrence (Uncle Boo) and Aunt Audrey are buried at Quantico now as is Mama's baby brother my Uncle Carroll Simpson and Mama's first cousin Jannelle and her husband Frank Pennington. Daddy's sister my Aunt Annabelle and Uncle Bill Vredenburg are buried at the National Cemetery at Culpepper, Virginia. Thank you to all my relatives who served this country in wartime and peacetime and to all the women who waited for them and loved them. Memorial Day 2015.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
I REMEMBER AQUA NET
It was August 1961 just before my freshman year at Fairfax High School, Fairfax, VA which was a suburb of Washington DC. My good friend Kathy Lamb called and invited me to go on the Buddy Dean Show, a teen dance show in Baltimore, MD similar to American Bandstand in Philadelphia and The Milt Grant Show in Washington, DC. Kathy's dad was a record promoter for Decca Records and got us tickets for the Buddy Dean Show. This is the show that film producer John Waters, who grew up in Baltimore, based his film Hairspray on.
Kathy's date was Billy Hawke and my date was Danny Snider and we were all great friends. All but Billy had been going to my neighborhood's Ardmore Teen Club Saturday night teen dances for two years. Kathy and Danny and I were teen dance show pros having been on The Milt Grant Show with our teen club the fall of 1959.
Kathy had very short dark curly hair and I had a long pony tail with a pompadour of bangs a la Connie Stevens as Cricket on the Hawaiian Eye tv show. We both wore broomstick skirts which were gathered skirts with a thick black belt around the waist and white shirts with the collar turned up and rolled sleeves. Danny and Billy wore what we would now call chinos and white shirts and thin ties with their collars turned up, too. I can't remember our shoes but we girls because we were "dressed up" probably had on black flats (otherwise it would be tennis shoes with turned up bobby sox) and the guys wore regular guy shoes with white socks. White socks!
The show was fun and we two couples were in the spotlight dance!
Okay, I guess you understand that Kathy and I, 14-15 years old, were the country bumpkins from the little town of Fairfax, VA. in the big city of Baltimore, MD. Even Washington, DC was still just a little southern town then. The kids that were regulars on this dance show were very sophisticated compared to us. Although Jackie Kennedy had been first lady for a year and wore a bouffant hairdo this was the first time we'd seen hair teased and pouffed to gigantic proportons. The one girl that sticks in my mind now for over fifty years was tall and very thin, dark haired, and wore a pencil thin black skirt and a black sweater tucked at the waist, again, with a big thick black belt. Her hair was enormous. ENORMOUS. Teased to a height and a width I would never, ever be able to achieve and held with hairspray.......Aqua Net!
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| Looks like Kathy is dancing on air! |
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Rod.....1983
"Saturday Night In The City Of The Dead"
In front of the Great Pyramid he stands
Passing the time of day with the camel ride guy.
When the camel ride guy's shift is over
He pulls off his galabiya,
Which covers a three piece suit,
Hops in his Mercedes and drives away.
Inside the Great Pyramid he lies down in a
Sarcophagus shell and his brother snaps his picture.
He sees a statue of an oracle
And her half smile, he says, reminds him of me.
Sailing down the Nile from Aswan, which is sailing north,
He looks off the back of the boat and the men of the crew
Are clustered in a circle smoking from a hookah.
The smell is rich and pungent and familiar.
There are drapings hung all around the top deck
Of the boat so you're not a target for snipers on the bank.
They tell you don't drink the water but the French Girl
Buys lemonade from a vendor and ends up being
Transported by chopper to a hospital ...deathly ill.
The waitress in the Mena House Hotel was beautiful
With cinnamon skin and crystal clear blue eyes.
Six weeks after he was there a bomb
Blew up a portion of the Mena House.
It survives.
Sunday, December 7, 2014
Untitled- A work in progress
PROLOGUE: Cheyenne, Wyoming 1944. This story is based on an actual event but only the bare bones of the story are true. 99% is conjecture by me.
The view through the bus window was grey and frosted on this cold winter afternoon and it had been snowing for the last two days. When she got home there was a big pot of soup on the stove ready to light a fire under and biscuits to be made. Two seats behind and completely unknown to her sat the man. Jittery and nervous he clutched his coat collar to his face as he watched her. His stare was intense and his lips mouthed silent words.
He'd been on the street for a few days staying away from public places because the people were looking for him. He had heard the alarms ring warning them that he had walked outside. It was so easy. He'd grabbed one of them and twisted his neck and left him in the closet in the laundry room and bashed his head on the concrete floor for good measure because the voice said to do that. The voice told him to grab the keys and walk out the door and he'd hidden in bushes and snow banks and hitched a ride to town. The man who picked him up was laying in the backseat sleeping. He hadn't been able to wake him for days. He was sitting in the car when he saw her walk down the street . Where had she come from? He left the car and followed her.
When she got off the bus cold wind caught her coat blowing and whipping it. She positioned her purse and her packages and took the hand of her youngest as they walked against the wind. Off she trudged in the street which was clearer than the sidewalk with the snow banks from the plows as high as her waist. The next block the bus stopped and the man got off and as quick as he could caught up with her and watched as she walked up to her porch and took the keys out to open the door. She walked in and turned the porch light on leaving a bright spot at the door for her husband and older boys who would soon be home. The man stood next to a drift across the street out of the light from the street lamp muttering and muttering and forming words with his lips and his breath made little poufs in the frozen air.
She stirred the soup and the smells from the kitchen greeted her husband as he walked in the door. The oldest two boys had come in from school shortly before he arrived and he tousled their hair and picked up the youngest and carried him to the kitchen on his shoulders. She smiled to herself as he kissed her neck and patted her and said what was your day like and she answered that she had gone shopping and dinner's ready call the boys. They sat at the table in the warm and cozy kitchen and spread butter and jam on biscuits and dipped soup from the pot and laughed and joked and life was good.
The man watched from the kitchen porch back away from the light that came from the window in the door. Muttering and muttering to himself and clutching his coat he watched. The warm glow from the kitchen and the happy voices brought faint memories. When had he been here before? What was this longing he had in his belly? Why was this scene so familiar to him? He didn't understand who the man was and why was he sitting there laughing with her? She was so pretty with her warm brown hair and hazel eyes and pink mouth. Who were these children? Why was she here? Had she said goodbye so long ago he could hardly remember? Confused and sad and he stepped off the porch and disappeared into the night.
The good news that evening was that her husband had bid the swing shift at work and his bid had finally been approved. This was going to mean a little extra money in the paycheck which would be a plus for his family. The new shift started the next Monday and would be from four p.m. to twelve thirty a.m. and this was Friday which meant they'd have almost a three day weekend before their life would be changed. Not so much in a bad way, at least, it wasn't the graveyard shift meaning all night. They knew other couples whose marriages were almost destroyed by that shift. You could still have a life with your family on swing, you just weren't around in the evenings during the week....but you could still sleep all night with your wife and see your kids in the mornings.
That weekend the husband smoothed out a place in the backyard and leveled and flooded it with water to make a small skating rink for him and the boys. As cold as it was in Wyoming in the winter they would have their little rink until late spring. She made popcorn and hot chocolate and in the evenings the kids were so tired they were in bed shortly after dinner. This left time for cuddling and loving and talking and making plans for the rest of their lives. They were a happy young family. Then Monday came and their life was forever altered.
Her husband left for work at three thirty p.m. in plenty of time to punch the time clock and start his new shift. At this time of year the sun was lowering in the sky getting ready to sink into the night. She had made her husband dinner at two p.m. and packed him a lunch. She and the boys would have leftovers when they came home from school as dinner was just being made a few hours earlier in the day. When the boys had eaten and done their homework they got their baths and she tucked them in for the night. She sat in her chair in the living room with a cup of tea and the book she was reading. It was going to be a long time between eight p.m. and one in the morning when her husband would be home.
She opened an eye then opened the other one and listened. She must have fallen asleep and the afghan she had over her knees had fallen to the floor. She knew it was snowing again because of the deep silence of the night. Snowfall had a way of muffling sounds like a cold white mitten on the world. She pulled the afghan up and started to fade back into sleep when she heard klink! plink plink plink! Something was hitting the front window and making small small sounds that were loud in the silence of midnight. She wondered what made the noise and went to the window and gazed out at the winter's darkness. Nothing was in sight and then car lights rounded the corner. Her heart leaped and she knew it was her husband home from his new shift. She stood at the window and watched as he pulled in the drive and as he came up the walk she opened the door for him. He threw his arms around her waist and she caught his scent and thought "oh, you smell like you." She whispered that she loved him and they closed the door to the night.
Plink! plink! klink plink. The sound of something hitting the bedroom window awakened her. After a month she had stopped waiting for her husband to come home from work and started going to bed after the ten o'clock news broadcast. They had discussed it and her husband said he would just come to bed when he got home and for her not to wait up for him. She was just too tired in the morning getting the boys ready for school and the little one woke up early ready for breakfast and play. Plink! What could be making that noise. This time the sound was coming from the bedroom window. Then she heard her husband come in the front door and lock it. Satisfied that he was home she forgot about the noise and drifted back to sleep.
The man watched the husband get out of his car. He was watching from the corner of her house where he'd taken up a post so he could be closer to her. His hand in his pocket rattled around the pebbles he carried. There was no snow down at the train tracks and he could easily pick as much as his pocket could hold. He liked to see her in the window but she didn't always come when he threw the pebbles. Now the husband was home he'd throw no more pebbles tonight. He still didn't know why she was at this house and how this man was her husband when he still was. She had cheated before and he had beat her. She had run away again and he had found her and beat her. It looked like it was time to bring her home again. But to where? The tool shed in the back yard was no home only a place to be near to her and out of site. He was confused and kept trying to remember, trying to remember what was bothering his brain. He knew it would come to him.
Goldie knocked on the kitchen door and opened it and said "Hey you want some company?" She answered that she had just made a pot of coffee and to come on in. They discussed the neighborhood news and their children and the article in the morning paper about a decomposing body being found in an abandoned car on a side street downtown. The person had been reported missing by his daughter over a month ago. As the weather had turned warmer the odor coming from the car had finally attracted attention.
"Hey, Goldie" she said, " have you been hearing anything hit your windows in the evening? I have and every time I get up to look I don't see anything and then the noise stops for awhile. My husband never hears anything it seems like I'm the only one and it happens in the evening when the kids have gone to bed. It's beginning to annoy me". Goldie answered no but it might be cinders being blown off the roof . Everything on the ground is still covered with snow she couldn't imagine what it could be. This answer wasn't satisfying but she decided to let it go for now. Goldie had to leave to get dinner ready for her family and as she went out the front door she glanced at the area beneath the picture window. "Here's the answer to your question" said Goldie, "There're little pebbles under the window. Quite a few by the way. Look up under the shrubs by the brick. Since the snow is going away it's pulled away from the foundation of the house and you have quite a bit of gravel. Talk to you tomorrow."
She looked at the pebbles and knew that's what she had heard. Pebbles hitting the window. She ran to her bedroom window and threw it open looking outside on the ground at the pebbles on the ice. She was feeling a little queasy. This meant someone was standing outside watching her and throwing pebbles at the windows. She closed the window and let down the blinds and closed the curtains with a sick feeling. She went to the kitchen porch and went outside to look in the back yard. There was no more snow it had all been trampled and packed down by her family and the neighborhood kids and was mostly ice that was starting to glisten since the days were getting a little warmer. There were no footprints either because of the packed ice. Pebbles were under her window but not under the boys window. Was it neighbor kids playing jokes? No one else in the neighborhood had mentioned it and Goldie hadn't been bothered. She'd wait up for her husband but in the mean time she pulled the blinds and drapes on the front window. She wished she had a curtain or something on the window in the kitchen door. She got newspaper and taped it on the window.
What's going on? Why are the windows covered? I can't see her she's hiding again. Run away and hiding. He knew he wouldn't see her again tonight. He stepped up on the kitchen porch and tried to see around the paper in the window. No use, he couldn't see anything. He opened his mouth and the voice whispered. "I killed you once I'll kill you again. Run away from me will you. I'll beat you to an inch of your life. How did you get here the husband must have helped you but I'm your husband. I killed you once I'll kill you again I killed you once I'll kill you again I killed you once I'll....." The man turned around and walked off the porch and disappeared into the night.
She waited up for her husband and she told him what she'd found. There had been no pebbles hitting the windows this evening. The blinds and drapes were pulled tight so she guessed whoever was trying to get her attention had been stopped. He got a flashlight and looked under the windows to see what she was talking about. He calmed her and spoke quietly and gentled her. He was alarmed, though. Who could be bothering his wife. Stalking her. Is that what was happening? Someone was stalking her. He'd talk to the neighbors in the morning.
The Man watched the husband walk under her bedroom window with a flashlight and also check under the other window. This angered him. He hadn't been able to see her tonight with the windows all around the house covered and dark with no place to peek in or crack to look through. Who was this man where had he come from? He stepped back into the tool shed to make sure he couldn't be seen mouthing words and clutching his coat to his throat. " I'll get you, woman, I'll get you. I killed you once, I killed you once, I'll kill you again." He was starting to keen and he calmed himself so he wouldn't be heard. Behind the stack of lumber in the shed he laid down in the nest he had made for himself from cardboard and rags and pulled the news papers up over himself for warmth. He'd been downtown a few days ago but the car he'd left had disappeared. The voice crooned a lullaby and he fell asleep.
Saturday morning dawned bright with sunshine and winter disappearing fast. The husband made phone calls to their close neighbors and asked them over. Everyone came except Goldie's husband who was working an early shift at the airport. Twelve neighbors filled the living room and spilled into the kitchen and were told about what they had found last night and were shown the pebble piles under the window. After a call to the police an officer stopped by to talk to them and they were told to keep their windows and doors locked and be careful outside after dark. Who knows who might be lurking in the neighborhood? The officer said a car would patrol the area for the next couple of nights and said it would be wise to stay inside. After the officer left and the neighbors all went home she put her arms around her husband's neck and cried. Why would someone target their house?
The man was listening at the kitchen door. No one heard him sneak onto the porch or saw him because all the neighbors were in the house. He felt alarmed they were talking about him. The voice kept murmuring in his brain but he didn't know what it was saying it was just murmuring murmuring low and constant low. When the policeman pulled up he hurried back to the alley and made his way out to the street and was gone.
Sunday passed uneventful. They witnessed the police car in the evening drive by their house a couple of times. Goldie's husband had been over to get the news from them. Then Monday came.
The sun was setting. She felt nervous and scared this being the first evening alone since the pebbles were found. All the windows were covered with curtains, drapes or newspaper. The kids were asleep and she sat in her chair too anxious to read the paper or go to bed. She kept going over in her mind the events of the last few days and as the room got darker she turned on the lamp.
TAP TAP TAP..... She froze. TAP TAP TAP..... Fear rose up in her throat and it was hard to breath and she sat frozen gripping the arms of the chair. Then she heard the voice. "Elizabeth, come open the door. Elizabeth, let me in. It's been so long, Elizabeth. I need you, Elizabeth." The voice stopped. Had she locked the kitchen door? She must have. She got out of the chair and walked to the kitchen. TAP TAP "Elizabeth, take the paper off the window let me see you. It's been so long. NOW!
"I'm not Elizabeth" she said aloud.
She heard the door knob jiggle and was so thankful she'd locked the door. It jiggled again. SLAM! SLAM SLAM! She screamed then she walked to the door and ripped the paper off the window. No one was there.
Where did he go? She touched the doorknob. No. Don't unlock it and go outside. Call the cops. Call my husband. Scream, no don't scream, calm down, calm yourself. She pulled a drawer out and got the rolling pin. Then she turned around.
A man stood on the other side of the door. He was short and his coat was way too big and hung off what looked like a thin frame. His scraggly beard formed around a thin mouth and his lips were moving. Then she saw his eyes They were small and red like raisins on fire. An apparition, a ghost man, a minion from hell stood on the other side of the door. She went to the phone and dialed O and when the operator answered she said "Help. Help me. Send the police. Help me."
"Open the door, Elizabeth. Let me in. I love you, Elizabeth." Then he rattled the door again. "LET ME IN, LET ME IN, LET ME IN " then "Open the door, Elizabeth. I've come to get you. The last time I saw you you were dead. Too long ago, too long ago. You were so pretty. LET ME IN!" and he rattled and shook the door again and again and again. CRASH! Glass went flying everywhere and he reached in through the broken window to unlock the door. She grabbed his hand and pinned it on the knob and pulled making him loose his balance. She opened the door and brought the rolling pin down with every ounce of strength and fear she had in her and hit him on his head and hit him on his shoulder and she screamed as she did it making no words just sounds so primordial only God understood. He was on his knees and she hit him again and hit him again and he turned" and crawled to the porch and got on his feet, stumbled, fell down the steps, got up and ran for the back gate to the alley with her right behind him. She turned around and there were her boys standing on the steps and a policeman came running into the porch light and Goldie's husband ran past her into the alley with a shotgun.
The voice had now multiplied into many voices that screamed to each other and to him and his head throbbed with the pain of it. He had ducked behind the loose boards in the tool shed as soon as he rounded the corner and laid down in his nest and cradled his temples between his hands. He heard steps run by in the alley behind where he lay. One voice was now louder than the others.
Goldie sat with her and held her hands. No words were shared between them but Goldie's presence was a comfort. Her husband had come home from work and was searching the neighborhood with the police. Dawn was breaking and cold air was coming in through the broken glass in the kitchen door. Blood was still in pools on the kitchen floor along with shards of glass. It had been hard getting the boys to settle down but finally around 4: 30 A.M. they fell asleep on the couch.
The sun was breaking through the clouds on the horizon. The men were talking loudly as they passed the shed and walked exhausted into the yard The man awoke and rubbed his eyes. The voices were gone they had stopped in the middle of the night and allowed him to sleep. He rose slowly pulling his clothes into place and pissed in the corner.
Her husband looked at the broken window and the mess on the kitchen floor and thought he'd better cover that window as soon as possible. He excused himself and walked to the shed for some boards and tools. The man heard him coming and stood back in the shadows. When her husband opened the door he knew right away that he was not alone. There was a wild warm scent and he thought mice or rats must be taking shelter here he'd have to set some traps then Goldie's husband stood beside him and they gathered tools and left. The man watched as they walked back to the house. As they walked in the kitchen door the police were just leaving. A detective and a photographer were still there taking pictures and making notes.
He called me Elizabeth.
**********
Mary Elizabeth covered her head with a scarf and locked the door behind her. She put her keys in her purse and climbed in the cab that waited to take her to Mama's. Mama would know what to do. Mama would hide her. Mamma would protect her. Her dark glasses hid her eyes which were almost swollen shut. She could manage. She just needed to get to Mama. The last two weeks at home had gotten so bad she couldn't make excuses anymore . He'd knocked her to the floor and when she got up he'd knocked her down again. No excuses, no excuses for him anymore he was out of control and not the man she had loved and married a year ago. A darkness had taken her husband and now the only voices he seemed to hear were the voices from the dark. They told him she was not true and that she laughed at him and plotted to shame him. He wouldn't believe anything she said. All love had been knocked out of her and the only thing that remained was fear. The cab pulled in front of Mama's. She got her bag and walked up the steps to the front porch. Mama, who was standing at the window came out and paid for the cab. She put her arms around Mary Elizabeth's neck and hugged her tight then they both walked inside. He walked out of the kitchen and shot them dead.
**********
The detective came in and sat at the table. Her husband had just swept up the glass and was about to nail a board across the broken window till he could replace it. A fresh pot of coffee was set on the table with cups and sugar and milk.
.
The view through the bus window was grey and frosted on this cold winter afternoon and it had been snowing for the last two days. When she got home there was a big pot of soup on the stove ready to light a fire under and biscuits to be made. Two seats behind and completely unknown to her sat the man. Jittery and nervous he clutched his coat collar to his face as he watched her. His stare was intense and his lips mouthed silent words.
He'd been on the street for a few days staying away from public places because the people were looking for him. He had heard the alarms ring warning them that he had walked outside. It was so easy. He'd grabbed one of them and twisted his neck and left him in the closet in the laundry room and bashed his head on the concrete floor for good measure because the voice said to do that. The voice told him to grab the keys and walk out the door and he'd hidden in bushes and snow banks and hitched a ride to town. The man who picked him up was laying in the backseat sleeping. He hadn't been able to wake him for days. He was sitting in the car when he saw her walk down the street . Where had she come from? He left the car and followed her.
When she got off the bus cold wind caught her coat blowing and whipping it. She positioned her purse and her packages and took the hand of her youngest as they walked against the wind. Off she trudged in the street which was clearer than the sidewalk with the snow banks from the plows as high as her waist. The next block the bus stopped and the man got off and as quick as he could caught up with her and watched as she walked up to her porch and took the keys out to open the door. She walked in and turned the porch light on leaving a bright spot at the door for her husband and older boys who would soon be home. The man stood next to a drift across the street out of the light from the street lamp muttering and muttering and forming words with his lips and his breath made little poufs in the frozen air.
She stirred the soup and the smells from the kitchen greeted her husband as he walked in the door. The oldest two boys had come in from school shortly before he arrived and he tousled their hair and picked up the youngest and carried him to the kitchen on his shoulders. She smiled to herself as he kissed her neck and patted her and said what was your day like and she answered that she had gone shopping and dinner's ready call the boys. They sat at the table in the warm and cozy kitchen and spread butter and jam on biscuits and dipped soup from the pot and laughed and joked and life was good.
The man watched from the kitchen porch back away from the light that came from the window in the door. Muttering and muttering to himself and clutching his coat he watched. The warm glow from the kitchen and the happy voices brought faint memories. When had he been here before? What was this longing he had in his belly? Why was this scene so familiar to him? He didn't understand who the man was and why was he sitting there laughing with her? She was so pretty with her warm brown hair and hazel eyes and pink mouth. Who were these children? Why was she here? Had she said goodbye so long ago he could hardly remember? Confused and sad and he stepped off the porch and disappeared into the night.
The good news that evening was that her husband had bid the swing shift at work and his bid had finally been approved. This was going to mean a little extra money in the paycheck which would be a plus for his family. The new shift started the next Monday and would be from four p.m. to twelve thirty a.m. and this was Friday which meant they'd have almost a three day weekend before their life would be changed. Not so much in a bad way, at least, it wasn't the graveyard shift meaning all night. They knew other couples whose marriages were almost destroyed by that shift. You could still have a life with your family on swing, you just weren't around in the evenings during the week....but you could still sleep all night with your wife and see your kids in the mornings.
That weekend the husband smoothed out a place in the backyard and leveled and flooded it with water to make a small skating rink for him and the boys. As cold as it was in Wyoming in the winter they would have their little rink until late spring. She made popcorn and hot chocolate and in the evenings the kids were so tired they were in bed shortly after dinner. This left time for cuddling and loving and talking and making plans for the rest of their lives. They were a happy young family. Then Monday came and their life was forever altered.
Her husband left for work at three thirty p.m. in plenty of time to punch the time clock and start his new shift. At this time of year the sun was lowering in the sky getting ready to sink into the night. She had made her husband dinner at two p.m. and packed him a lunch. She and the boys would have leftovers when they came home from school as dinner was just being made a few hours earlier in the day. When the boys had eaten and done their homework they got their baths and she tucked them in for the night. She sat in her chair in the living room with a cup of tea and the book she was reading. It was going to be a long time between eight p.m. and one in the morning when her husband would be home.
She opened an eye then opened the other one and listened. She must have fallen asleep and the afghan she had over her knees had fallen to the floor. She knew it was snowing again because of the deep silence of the night. Snowfall had a way of muffling sounds like a cold white mitten on the world. She pulled the afghan up and started to fade back into sleep when she heard klink! plink plink plink! Something was hitting the front window and making small small sounds that were loud in the silence of midnight. She wondered what made the noise and went to the window and gazed out at the winter's darkness. Nothing was in sight and then car lights rounded the corner. Her heart leaped and she knew it was her husband home from his new shift. She stood at the window and watched as he pulled in the drive and as he came up the walk she opened the door for him. He threw his arms around her waist and she caught his scent and thought "oh, you smell like you." She whispered that she loved him and they closed the door to the night.
Plink! plink! klink plink. The sound of something hitting the bedroom window awakened her. After a month she had stopped waiting for her husband to come home from work and started going to bed after the ten o'clock news broadcast. They had discussed it and her husband said he would just come to bed when he got home and for her not to wait up for him. She was just too tired in the morning getting the boys ready for school and the little one woke up early ready for breakfast and play. Plink! What could be making that noise. This time the sound was coming from the bedroom window. Then she heard her husband come in the front door and lock it. Satisfied that he was home she forgot about the noise and drifted back to sleep.
The man watched the husband get out of his car. He was watching from the corner of her house where he'd taken up a post so he could be closer to her. His hand in his pocket rattled around the pebbles he carried. There was no snow down at the train tracks and he could easily pick as much as his pocket could hold. He liked to see her in the window but she didn't always come when he threw the pebbles. Now the husband was home he'd throw no more pebbles tonight. He still didn't know why she was at this house and how this man was her husband when he still was. She had cheated before and he had beat her. She had run away again and he had found her and beat her. It looked like it was time to bring her home again. But to where? The tool shed in the back yard was no home only a place to be near to her and out of site. He was confused and kept trying to remember, trying to remember what was bothering his brain. He knew it would come to him.
Goldie knocked on the kitchen door and opened it and said "Hey you want some company?" She answered that she had just made a pot of coffee and to come on in. They discussed the neighborhood news and their children and the article in the morning paper about a decomposing body being found in an abandoned car on a side street downtown. The person had been reported missing by his daughter over a month ago. As the weather had turned warmer the odor coming from the car had finally attracted attention.
"Hey, Goldie" she said, " have you been hearing anything hit your windows in the evening? I have and every time I get up to look I don't see anything and then the noise stops for awhile. My husband never hears anything it seems like I'm the only one and it happens in the evening when the kids have gone to bed. It's beginning to annoy me". Goldie answered no but it might be cinders being blown off the roof . Everything on the ground is still covered with snow she couldn't imagine what it could be. This answer wasn't satisfying but she decided to let it go for now. Goldie had to leave to get dinner ready for her family and as she went out the front door she glanced at the area beneath the picture window. "Here's the answer to your question" said Goldie, "There're little pebbles under the window. Quite a few by the way. Look up under the shrubs by the brick. Since the snow is going away it's pulled away from the foundation of the house and you have quite a bit of gravel. Talk to you tomorrow."
She looked at the pebbles and knew that's what she had heard. Pebbles hitting the window. She ran to her bedroom window and threw it open looking outside on the ground at the pebbles on the ice. She was feeling a little queasy. This meant someone was standing outside watching her and throwing pebbles at the windows. She closed the window and let down the blinds and closed the curtains with a sick feeling. She went to the kitchen porch and went outside to look in the back yard. There was no more snow it had all been trampled and packed down by her family and the neighborhood kids and was mostly ice that was starting to glisten since the days were getting a little warmer. There were no footprints either because of the packed ice. Pebbles were under her window but not under the boys window. Was it neighbor kids playing jokes? No one else in the neighborhood had mentioned it and Goldie hadn't been bothered. She'd wait up for her husband but in the mean time she pulled the blinds and drapes on the front window. She wished she had a curtain or something on the window in the kitchen door. She got newspaper and taped it on the window.
What's going on? Why are the windows covered? I can't see her she's hiding again. Run away and hiding. He knew he wouldn't see her again tonight. He stepped up on the kitchen porch and tried to see around the paper in the window. No use, he couldn't see anything. He opened his mouth and the voice whispered. "I killed you once I'll kill you again. Run away from me will you. I'll beat you to an inch of your life. How did you get here the husband must have helped you but I'm your husband. I killed you once I'll kill you again I killed you once I'll kill you again I killed you once I'll....." The man turned around and walked off the porch and disappeared into the night.
She waited up for her husband and she told him what she'd found. There had been no pebbles hitting the windows this evening. The blinds and drapes were pulled tight so she guessed whoever was trying to get her attention had been stopped. He got a flashlight and looked under the windows to see what she was talking about. He calmed her and spoke quietly and gentled her. He was alarmed, though. Who could be bothering his wife. Stalking her. Is that what was happening? Someone was stalking her. He'd talk to the neighbors in the morning.
The Man watched the husband walk under her bedroom window with a flashlight and also check under the other window. This angered him. He hadn't been able to see her tonight with the windows all around the house covered and dark with no place to peek in or crack to look through. Who was this man where had he come from? He stepped back into the tool shed to make sure he couldn't be seen mouthing words and clutching his coat to his throat. " I'll get you, woman, I'll get you. I killed you once, I killed you once, I'll kill you again." He was starting to keen and he calmed himself so he wouldn't be heard. Behind the stack of lumber in the shed he laid down in the nest he had made for himself from cardboard and rags and pulled the news papers up over himself for warmth. He'd been downtown a few days ago but the car he'd left had disappeared. The voice crooned a lullaby and he fell asleep.
Saturday morning dawned bright with sunshine and winter disappearing fast. The husband made phone calls to their close neighbors and asked them over. Everyone came except Goldie's husband who was working an early shift at the airport. Twelve neighbors filled the living room and spilled into the kitchen and were told about what they had found last night and were shown the pebble piles under the window. After a call to the police an officer stopped by to talk to them and they were told to keep their windows and doors locked and be careful outside after dark. Who knows who might be lurking in the neighborhood? The officer said a car would patrol the area for the next couple of nights and said it would be wise to stay inside. After the officer left and the neighbors all went home she put her arms around her husband's neck and cried. Why would someone target their house?
The man was listening at the kitchen door. No one heard him sneak onto the porch or saw him because all the neighbors were in the house. He felt alarmed they were talking about him. The voice kept murmuring in his brain but he didn't know what it was saying it was just murmuring murmuring low and constant low. When the policeman pulled up he hurried back to the alley and made his way out to the street and was gone.
Sunday passed uneventful. They witnessed the police car in the evening drive by their house a couple of times. Goldie's husband had been over to get the news from them. Then Monday came.
The sun was setting. She felt nervous and scared this being the first evening alone since the pebbles were found. All the windows were covered with curtains, drapes or newspaper. The kids were asleep and she sat in her chair too anxious to read the paper or go to bed. She kept going over in her mind the events of the last few days and as the room got darker she turned on the lamp.
TAP TAP TAP..... She froze. TAP TAP TAP..... Fear rose up in her throat and it was hard to breath and she sat frozen gripping the arms of the chair. Then she heard the voice. "Elizabeth, come open the door. Elizabeth, let me in. It's been so long, Elizabeth. I need you, Elizabeth." The voice stopped. Had she locked the kitchen door? She must have. She got out of the chair and walked to the kitchen. TAP TAP "Elizabeth, take the paper off the window let me see you. It's been so long. NOW!
"I'm not Elizabeth" she said aloud.
She heard the door knob jiggle and was so thankful she'd locked the door. It jiggled again. SLAM! SLAM SLAM! She screamed then she walked to the door and ripped the paper off the window. No one was there.
Where did he go? She touched the doorknob. No. Don't unlock it and go outside. Call the cops. Call my husband. Scream, no don't scream, calm down, calm yourself. She pulled a drawer out and got the rolling pin. Then she turned around.
A man stood on the other side of the door. He was short and his coat was way too big and hung off what looked like a thin frame. His scraggly beard formed around a thin mouth and his lips were moving. Then she saw his eyes They were small and red like raisins on fire. An apparition, a ghost man, a minion from hell stood on the other side of the door. She went to the phone and dialed O and when the operator answered she said "Help. Help me. Send the police. Help me."
"Open the door, Elizabeth. Let me in. I love you, Elizabeth." Then he rattled the door again. "LET ME IN, LET ME IN, LET ME IN " then "Open the door, Elizabeth. I've come to get you. The last time I saw you you were dead. Too long ago, too long ago. You were so pretty. LET ME IN!" and he rattled and shook the door again and again and again. CRASH! Glass went flying everywhere and he reached in through the broken window to unlock the door. She grabbed his hand and pinned it on the knob and pulled making him loose his balance. She opened the door and brought the rolling pin down with every ounce of strength and fear she had in her and hit him on his head and hit him on his shoulder and she screamed as she did it making no words just sounds so primordial only God understood. He was on his knees and she hit him again and hit him again and he turned" and crawled to the porch and got on his feet, stumbled, fell down the steps, got up and ran for the back gate to the alley with her right behind him. She turned around and there were her boys standing on the steps and a policeman came running into the porch light and Goldie's husband ran past her into the alley with a shotgun.
The voice had now multiplied into many voices that screamed to each other and to him and his head throbbed with the pain of it. He had ducked behind the loose boards in the tool shed as soon as he rounded the corner and laid down in his nest and cradled his temples between his hands. He heard steps run by in the alley behind where he lay. One voice was now louder than the others.
Goldie sat with her and held her hands. No words were shared between them but Goldie's presence was a comfort. Her husband had come home from work and was searching the neighborhood with the police. Dawn was breaking and cold air was coming in through the broken glass in the kitchen door. Blood was still in pools on the kitchen floor along with shards of glass. It had been hard getting the boys to settle down but finally around 4: 30 A.M. they fell asleep on the couch.
The sun was breaking through the clouds on the horizon. The men were talking loudly as they passed the shed and walked exhausted into the yard The man awoke and rubbed his eyes. The voices were gone they had stopped in the middle of the night and allowed him to sleep. He rose slowly pulling his clothes into place and pissed in the corner.
Her husband looked at the broken window and the mess on the kitchen floor and thought he'd better cover that window as soon as possible. He excused himself and walked to the shed for some boards and tools. The man heard him coming and stood back in the shadows. When her husband opened the door he knew right away that he was not alone. There was a wild warm scent and he thought mice or rats must be taking shelter here he'd have to set some traps then Goldie's husband stood beside him and they gathered tools and left. The man watched as they walked back to the house. As they walked in the kitchen door the police were just leaving. A detective and a photographer were still there taking pictures and making notes.
He called me Elizabeth.
**********
Mary Elizabeth covered her head with a scarf and locked the door behind her. She put her keys in her purse and climbed in the cab that waited to take her to Mama's. Mama would know what to do. Mama would hide her. Mamma would protect her. Her dark glasses hid her eyes which were almost swollen shut. She could manage. She just needed to get to Mama. The last two weeks at home had gotten so bad she couldn't make excuses anymore . He'd knocked her to the floor and when she got up he'd knocked her down again. No excuses, no excuses for him anymore he was out of control and not the man she had loved and married a year ago. A darkness had taken her husband and now the only voices he seemed to hear were the voices from the dark. They told him she was not true and that she laughed at him and plotted to shame him. He wouldn't believe anything she said. All love had been knocked out of her and the only thing that remained was fear. The cab pulled in front of Mama's. She got her bag and walked up the steps to the front porch. Mama, who was standing at the window came out and paid for the cab. She put her arms around Mary Elizabeth's neck and hugged her tight then they both walked inside. He walked out of the kitchen and shot them dead.
**********
The detective came in and sat at the table. Her husband had just swept up the glass and was about to nail a board across the broken window till he could replace it. A fresh pot of coffee was set on the table with cups and sugar and milk.
.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
A REFLECTION
C.S. LEWIS, THE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER
I read The Chronicles of Narnia when I was in my later twenties I might have been just thirty. Harry Huebner, a co-worker, introduced me and let me borrow and read his complete set. Most people are familiar with the first book The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe but the third book, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, was my favorite at the time. I didn't realize how much I'd forgotten of the book until I googled a review for my daily art/writing challenge which was the quote above. I remembered the kids sailed to the end of the world and when I thought of the book I always pictured a friendly dragon flying above the sailing ship as it was underway.
Lucy is my favorite character I found her adventurous and brave and all things I believe girls are. So much so that when I think of favorite girls names Lucy is number two only to Elizabeth and all it's variations which is my most favorite. I hadn't thought of it but Elizabeth I is all those things I admire, too.
The actress who portrays Lucy in the recent film versions is not how I imagine her. I picture her as Linda Bailey who lived down Popes Head Road from me when I was little and was the same age as my little sister Linda and in first grade. Linda Bailey' mom was a British WWII war bride and very nice. (Alan Bateman's mom was a British war bride also and played the piano at my church.) Linda Bailey's hair was light brown and bobbed very short with bangs when all us girls had curly hair rolled on rubber rollers every night or pulled back in long ponytails. Linda wore brown lace up oxfords which seemed strange to this American girl of the 1950's. She was as nice as she could be and as a second grader I adopted her like a mother. She sat with me on the school bus and I pushed her in the swings at recess.
Hmmmmm
MY MUSE
I DIDN'T REALIZE JUST HOW OFTEN THIS PAST YEAR I'D USED ROD AS A MODEL.
HE'S PAIRED HERE WITH GINNY AS A MARTIAN WATCHING INTERGALACTIVE TV. |
| STEAMPUNK |
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| COWBOY |
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| PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN |
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| PHANTOM |
.JPG) |
| ROD'S HANDS |
Thursday, July 3, 2014
GRANDDADDY AND MOTHER G
I've known this rhyme for as long as I have memory. The words come to me as clearly as Jack and Jill and This Little Piggy. It's curious to me, though, because it hasn't been Americanized and sounds very British. I suspect it comes from my Grandfather from Loudon County, Virginia. The culture in Loudon is still very British with large farms and horses and fox hunting.
I imagine my Grandfather used to recite it when he would cross his knees and I'd sit on his foot for a "pony ride" when I was little. I just barely remember the pony rides but have always remembered the rhyme and puzzled how I knew it. I was reminded of it today when I was researching a Mother Goose rhyme about a duck.
"I Had A Little Pony" By Mother Goose
I have a little pony
His name is Dapple-Grey.
I lent him to a lady
To ride a mile away.
She whipped him, she lashed him,
She rode him through the mire;
I would not lend my pony now
For all the lady's hire.
I imagine my Grandfather used to recite it when he would cross his knees and I'd sit on his foot for a "pony ride" when I was little. I just barely remember the pony rides but have always remembered the rhyme and puzzled how I knew it. I was reminded of it today when I was researching a Mother Goose rhyme about a duck.
"I Had A Little Pony" By Mother Goose
I have a little pony
His name is Dapple-Grey.
I lent him to a lady
To ride a mile away.
She whipped him, she lashed him,
She rode him through the mire;
I would not lend my pony now
For all the lady's hire.
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