Io Saturnalia! (Again!)

                                                    And naturally
                    MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
                       HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!
                      HAPPY HANUKKAH!!!
                                   AND
                       HAPPY KWANZAA!!! 

I THINK THAT'S-ARRGH, AGAIN?!   
I think that's all of them. 

Oh, wait...no, it's not.

           AND A  HAPPY NEW YEARRR!!!

There we go! Forgot that last year.

Have more fun, everybody, and thanks again for reading!
                                                         -Dan 

 

A Jejune Lacklustre Christmas Tale

 "No, Jane, I have already told you we shan't be having any jocularity or festive gambols this Christmastime!" Eliza said sharply. "We shall all sit here in the parlor whilst I play Daphnis et Chloe on the spinet."
 Jane almost fell off of the uncomfortable rattan chair she was perched on. "What, in the dark?!" she exclaimed.
 "Yes, Jane, just like last year."
 "But Mummy, James must return to Swillbilge Hall before it snows harder outside. He should be with his family tonight, not here."
 "Your lustless paramour shall remain with us here until tomorrow evening at the most," Eliza replied gently but firmly. "Tonight he shall sleep in your room, and there you both may do as you please to celebrate the Day, whatever it may be."
 Jane stamped her little foot. "But Mummy!" she cried plaintively.
 "Do you need to be disciplined, young lady? Hmm?"
 In the gloom Jane pouted. "No, Mummy," she whispered.
 "Good, then commence acting like the customarily graceful woman that you are and accept the situation like a mature adult!"
 "Yes, Mummy. Um, may I go upstairs with James, please? I don't much care for Ravel tonight."
 "Yes, Jane, you may."
 "Thank you. Come along, James."
 And as Eliza resumed playing the spinet Jane led James up the broad staircase, illuminating the way with a small candle the size of a man's unerect penis.
 "I'm dreadfully sorry about this, James, but I'm afraid Mummy can't be defied in matters such as this."
 James smiled warmly at her and took her hand. "It's quite all right, my dear. But why are we going upstairs now? It's only half past five o'clock."
 Jane laughed and said, "Well, it is almost my bath time, you see, and I shall require your assistance in laving those places I can't quite reach by myself."
 James halted abruptly on the stairs and released Jane's hand.
 "What? Are you serious, Jane?" he asked incredulously. "We've only just supped."
 She smiled without any indication of slyness or flirtation. "Quite serious, darling."
 James paused to consider this, then nervously cleared his throat and said, "You know, Jane, perhaps I ought to try and make my way back to Swillbilge after all. Yes, I think I should go back downstairs and discuss my departure with your mother." But as he turned to go Jane caught him firmly by the arm.
 "Are you mad, James?! You can't go home now! It's still snowing rather fiercely outside! Besides once Mummy starts playing that damned ballet she won't heed anything but the music. No, it's best you remain here. Tonight. With me." She gazed pleadingly up at him with irresistible blue eyes that shone brightly in the soft glow of the candlelight, took his hand in hers and pressed it firmly, never once looking away from his handsome visage.
 James pursed his lips in thought, then sighed. "Well..."
 "Please, James!" Jane whispered fiercely, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.
 "Well (ouch!), all right, Jane, I'll stay."
 Jane muffled a tiny squeak of delight.
 "Yes, I will stay, my dear...but on one condition."
 "Oh? What's that, James?"
 He grinned and stooped to peck her parted lips. "We. Bathe. Together!!" he whispered passionately in her ear.
 Downstairs Eliza plainly heard her daughter's breathless giggling and a terrible rumbling of footsteps that ceased with the blast of Jane's bedroom door slamming shut. She tsked and furrowed her brow yet soldiered on with her blessed Purcell, only now she gave it all the feeling and gusto that one would've for a Christmas carol.
 
 
DB/c1997, 2015

 

Aggie Dovecote and All Her Pals: Pt.2, Ch.3

                                                          III


"Well, here we are!" Mary exclaims happily as she, Aggie, Diana, Adora, Lidia and Arch, each carrying small valises, step singly onto one of the bustling rail station platforms from the doorway of their first-class car on the Brighton Main Line.
"Merda, so many people here!" marvels Lidia. "It's not a holiday, right?"
"My God, it's feels worse here than it did in London!" complains Diana as she delicately mops her brow.
 "I'm sure it'll feel much nicer once we're by the water," says Aggie hopefully. "That is, if we make it to the beach through all this consarned lot."
 "Was there anyplace anyone wanted to see first?" asks Mary. "Remember it's not every day one can see Brighton."
 Diana shakes her head. "Just about any other time I'd be agreeable to a prolonged visit - well, except in the much colder months, of course - but today I'd really rather just bathe. Isn't that why we all packed our suits?"
 "Yes, all right. Arch?"
 "Me, too. Bathe."
 "Ladies?"
 "Bathe," Aggie, Lidia and Adora reply in near-unison.
 "Fine. That being said, there's a sweet shop on the pier I want to visit first."
  Low groans sound from the little group.
 "Whatever for, Mary?" asks Diana with a petulant sigh.
 "It's the only shop in England that sells those brandy-flavored sticks you can actually play like penny whistles. Special only in Brighton for some reason. 'Tootle-oos,' they're called. That's T-O-O-T-L-E-oos. I've always wanted to try them but have somehow never found the chance to come here. Ever hear of 'em?"
 "'Tootle-oos'?" asks Lidia. "Hmm. I might have heard a flutist at the Company mention them once."
 "They sound amusing, Mary," adds Diana flatly. "And if I wasn't sweating like Gertrude Bell in Mesopotamia at high noon right now I might actually purchase one, but-"
 "Di, why not go and have a quick look-see?" interjects Adora. "I'm a bit curious now."
 "Christ, Addie, really?" 
  Aggie nods. "I'm with Addie on this. Let's go there first, then change and look for a nice open spot on the beach. If we can."
 "I'm for going there, Mary!" Arch says brightly. "Perhaps I'll buy a few chocs to nosh on."
 "Lovely!" Mary exclaims. "And we can form a penny whistle sextet and play on the beach! My treat!"
 "Swell," mutters Diana. "She'll get us drowned in the Channel!"
 About fifteen minutes later the group stand at the foot of the shop-lined pier and gaze numbly at the people in the shimmering heat crossing to and fro and passing up and down their flanks, yet never detracting one whit from the larger immovable mass matching the one they viewed at the station.
 "Look at that crowd!" says Arch in awe.
 "Feels like half of England's here," Lidia observes wearily.
 "Maybe we should high-tail it to the Isle of Wight or Devon or...somewhere a bit less peopled," suggests Aggie.
 "No, no, I'm sorry, I've had it," says an exasperated Diana. "Mary, I really must break away for a little while because thank God, thank God there is a cafe right over there, so I'd like to get to shade and have a drink, alcoholic or non-alcoholic, but definitely with ice. I love sweets as much as the next girl but right now... "
 "I wouldn't mind having something cool to drink," says Lidia.
 "That's only fair," replies Mary. "Right, how's this for a plan: anyone who wants the cafe can go now while the rest of us visit the sweet shop, then about half-past -what's it now? three?-we'll have a go at the cafe ourselves and stay 'til four, at least. Whoever's for the sweet shop, or anything else for that matter, may still make use of second half, assuming they want to do more than lounge in a cafe for a full hour, Diana."
 "Well, who wouldn't?" winks Diana, who then furiously dabs perspiration out of her eye. "Ah, damn it!"
 "Then if anyone is still willing we shall hit the beach at four, while away an hour then take the 5:15 back to Victoria Station and go our separate ways for supper. Plan complete, summer fete and hot horrid day thus ending happily. Objections?"
 No one objects.
 "Splendid! And much easier than I thought. Now who's for the ca-well, there goes Di, already."
 "I'm, as Aggie might say, just a-hankerin' for an iced coffee," chuckles Lidia as she moves away. "Well, she might not say the 'iced coffee' part. A dopo, ladies, Milord!"
 "What about you, Addie? Still want to see those penny whistles?"
 Adora chews her lower lip and glances over to where Diana seems to be waiting impatiently for her at the cafe door.
 "Perhaps-perhaps I oughtn't to, after all."
 "Oh, are you sure?" asks Mary.
 "You know you don't have to go just because she-" Aggie begins but stops as Adora momentarily rummages through her handbag, fishes out a few crisply folded pounds and with a taut smile presses them into Mary's hand.
 "Half a dozen of those 'Tootle-oos', and plenty of anything Cadbury, please, Mary," Adora mutters. "Oh, and I suppose some 'Cressida Dots' for Di." She laughs dryly. "Thanks so much. I-really must go, ladies, Arch. I'll see you all later." Adora hustles to rejoin her significant other.
 "Is she all right?" asks Arch.
 "Don't know," replies Mary tersely, concern clouding her brow. "Hope so."
 "I reckon it's to do with their little tiff back in your flat," opines Aggie.
 "Tiff?" Arch asks.
 "Di was mulling over quitting painting, it was big news to Addie today. Today! So yeah, tiff."
 "Shame. Hope they don't call it quits, they seem awfully good together."
 "Maybe not anymore," Aggie says uneasily. "Here she comes!"
 Adora stalks moodily back over to the trio and bares her palm to Mary.
 "You've still got my money?" she grunts.
 A dazed Mary cedes the now slightly more moist pounds in her hand back to her friend. "But what-"
 "Thanks. See you there." Adora hurries on ahead.
 "Let's follow her, quickly!" Mary insists, and the three weave through the crowd until they arrive a few feet away from the shop door. The building itself is simply another small business wedged between two others, with the notable difference of its storefront is a facade of garish vertical rainbow hues while its name announces in like colorful aspect in Gill Sans on a white oblong plaque the establishment's name of GUMM'S SWEETS, its lightly streaked display window heavily displaying a terraced array of tempting candies. Small children occasionally hop and squeal joyfully in and out the door, out always with their own small bag of tasty new treasures, escorted by their beaming, indulgent parents.
 "Whoa, Nellie!" shouts Aggie as she halts dead in her tracks.
 "What, what?! What's 'whoa, Nellie'?!" demands Mary, following suit.
 "I just saw her dash in there, ladies," remarks Arch. "But yeah, what is it, Ag? Why are we stopped?"
 "Look who's come out!" Aggie whispers dramatically.
 From the front door of the busy shop, each holding a large brown paper bag in their hand and smiling cheerfully at each other, emerge Ginny Blompton's two erstwhile party companions - Tim Boxleigh and 'Poppy' St. Cecile.



                                         TO BE CONTINUED



 
 

 

  



 


 

Witch (2nd Version)

Stygian Lady,
Femme of Night,
Sails across
That Orb of White,

Soaring high
O'er tarn and tree.
Oh, how I yearn
To fly like thee!


(Not so impromptu this time.
Hope you all had a happy Halloween/Samhain btw!)

DB/11.2.15

Witch

Stygian Lady,
Femme of Night,
Sailing across
That Orb of White

'Stead of fear
There'd mayhap be,
Tonight I wish
To fly like thee!

(Absolutely impromptu)
DB/10.31.15

A Proclamation

                                               



I AM THE TAMMANY TIGER!!
NEW YORK CITY IS MY BEDROOM
AND THIS BOXCAR IS MY BED!!
I. NEVER. SLEEP!!
LOCK YOUR DOORS
AND SCURRY INTO YOUR CLOSETS
LIKE THE TIMID MICE YOU ARE,
FOR MY ROARS
WILL NEVER END!!
COWER IN PERPETUAL FEAR
FOR YOU ALL-ALL-
ARE MY PREY!!
I WILL POUNCE ON YOUR CHILDREN
AND MAKE THEM KNOW
THE SUBLIME, SUPREME,
DELICIOUS JOYS
OF GREED AND CORRUPTION!! O YES!!
I WILL WAVE MY FUZZY LIL PAW
OVER AMERICA
AND BEND YOU ALL
TO MY INEVITABLE WILL!!
LIVE IN PERPETUAL FEAR
UNTIL THE VERY LAST MOMENT
WHEN I FINALLY COME FOR YOU!!
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!


 DB/C1991,2015

1900

new day
new year
new decade
New York
no, thanks
Chicago
ja, besser
stockyard cattle
slaughter murder
meet me in St. Louis
four years from now
picnic in Central Park
(how does the Other Half live?)
Gibson Girls
everywhere I go
men with bowler hats
natty three-piece suits
august
Horseless Carriages
very few
summertime
walks down shady country lanes
rides in interurban rail cars
sunshine warms my body
color instead of
black and white
cool Victorian beach scene
adults laugh
children play
maybe one of them
my great-great grandfather or mother

somewhere on a hot green prairie
a Native American chief
squats dejectedly
in front of his tipi
"they will move us all
into a reservation to-morrow
in a faraway horizon"
is the Great Spirit dead,
nothing more
than a wisp of fog
in the night?
no
keep dancing
and singing the Ghost Song
it will never leave,
it will never
say goodbye
to you

what?
go?
now?
no way
I still want to kiss
that pretty-haired maiden
on a Mississippi riverboat
and the both of us
to be fram'd by the sunset
the Nymphs like Sirens
call my name
over and over
from among the tall reeds
at the lakeshore
you go
on ahead
I'll meet you
at the edge of Time
I want to stay here
for a while

a long while



DB/c1991,2015

Untitled

PUTSCH!! PUTSCH!!
PUTSCH!! PUTSCH!!
the Tammany Tiger
is lookin' for you!
the python
slithers out of his hole.
he squeezes
and swallows li'l bunnies
like they were marshmallow peeps.
the lonely child
presses his face
against the dirty factory window.
he sees the paper boat
burning in the oily canal.
it burns
and it sinks
to its underwater grave
where many like it
have gone before.
PUTSCH!! PUTSCH!!
the Fuehrer stands
in the field of fire
and carries the black swastika
across his thin shoulders,
and his eyes are illuminated
with a fiery hatred of Juden.
he is more than eager
to turn back the hands of time
and make sure the Reich
never capitulated.
in the torrid green valleys of Spain
Don Quixote has vanished.
the windmills become monsters
and advance on the ancient villages.
THE TAMMANY TIGER
IS LOOKIN' FOR YOU!!
he licks his paws
and glances casually out
at the steadily falling rain
and the overcast evening sky.
his surname is Corruption
and he owns this territory.
Manhattan island is his playground,
the other Boroughs are his living room,
New York City is his bedroom
and this boxcar is his bed,
though he rarely sleeps in it.
listen,
it's really no use
hiding behind your clean public image.
you'll have to step in the oil slick
sooner or later,
just like everyone else.
cower inside your trash can,
your ironic hiding place
for as long as you like.
he'll find you.
he's just idling around right now.
he's patient.
even if it rains all night
that won't bother him.
he'll find you,
he'll get you,
and when he does
you sure as hell
won't be the last one to go.



DB/c1991,2015

Denise

sit. listen.
back, back when I was sma',
back in the days when many giants
strode thru my neighborhood,
she dwelt across from me
in that house with her family
and was the tallest
and the fairest of women.
when I grew older
I wondered if at night,
she ever stripped
and bathed in the rays
of the silvery moonlight
behind that curtain of trees
and pondered the old story
of the Titan goddess Dionysia.
listen.
Dionysia was also very beautiful
and dwelt alone on a large island,
one 'mongst the many Cyclades,
but she was always jealous of the Sun
because she felt it always outshone her,
and that her long gleaming red hair alone
eclipsed it entirely.
but when the Moon,
with whom she'd no quarrel,
shone down on her at night
she felt much more serene
and slept naked along the beach
and soaked up the moon's cool rays
as the waters gently lapped against
her long supple body.
but her displeasure of the Sun
had become too much
for her to bear over time,
so one day Dionysia uprooted
over a hundred cypress trees
that grew on the island's largest mountain
and tied them together end to end
in a long green javelin.
she would hurl it
directly into the Sun
and try to put it out
as Odysseus blinded Polyphemus.
when she was ready
she carefully targeted the Sun
then tossed the javelin high and far,
but it broke up in mid-flight
and all the trees flew apart
and sank in the Aegean.
Dionysia was frustrated at this
but later thought of another idea.
she drank deeply of the sea around her
and waited 'til she needed to make water,
then lifted up her bare bottom
to aim it at her bright rival
in hopes of simply dousing it out.
but the narrow stream she made
only filled an empty crater
on an island next to hers,
and that became a lake
which still bears her name.
yea, I speak the truth. listen.
but Hera, Queen of the Gods
on Mount Olympus, had had enough
of this Titan woman's silly antics
and turned her into a volcano
next to that silent mountain.
this volcano would burble and bubble
and fume and smoke
during the daytime,
but at night was as calm
as a sleeping infant.
it, like the lake, also is named
for the beautiful Dionysia.
of course the woman I knew
was nothing like her.
she moved away
many years ago.
the curtain is now half-torn
and the house sits dark and hollow
without any family at all
dwelling inside.
ah, so 'tis.

ha! do ye think I can put out
the moon by just jabbing it
with this stick? no?
then let's you and I lie here
and bathe in it
'til the heavenly dawn comes.



DB/2015




 

Aggie Dovecote and All Her Pals: Pt.2, Ch.2

                                                         
                                                           II


"Fancy a fag, darling?"
Diana holds out an open silver cigarette case across to Adora, who sits at the high-backed end of Aggie's chaise lounge, with Aggie herself leaning back against the tapering middle part.
Adora shakes her head. "Not now, Di, thanks."
"You, Ag?"
"No, thank you. Never wanted to, never will. I'm a beer girl." Aggie proudly lifts her bottle of Schmpf.
"You don't know what you're missing!" She turns to Mary just as she takes another pull from her second Schmpf. "Want to try two vices at once?"
Mary also shakes her head. "This one will do for right now. Besides it's really just so refreshing."
Diana grins wryly and darts her hundredth or so glance at Mary's bare breasts. "So I see."
"I'd also quit that one a long time ago and have no intention of returning to it anytime soon."
"I really can't believe you're going to do that, Di," chides Adora.
"What, darling? Smoke?"
"Yes, in this awful heat. Do you want to feel like you're burning outside and in?"
Diana smiles as she pauses to ignite a cigarette with a silver lighter and takes a long drag before exhaling the smoke in a little white puff above her head.
"Well, seeing as I've been told often enough that I'm going to burn anyway-"
"Di!"
Diana sighs. "Mary, what about Lidia and those lovely glistening boys over yonder? I don't give a shit about the rest of 'em, they can get their own."
"Lidia might be interested later but I don't think any of them smoke. Of course I don't care about the others, either, but I imagine cocaine and tobacco would be an awful mix anyway. I'm really amazed they're still even alive at this point."
"There's still time for that to change, Mary."
"Yes, but not in my house, Di. And not anymore. If it's all the same to you ladies I think the 'Nepenthe' should dry up for good. It-it just feels pointless now."
"I agree, Mary," says Aggie.
"Absolutely," adds Adora.
"Yes," says Diana softly. "'S too bad they couldn't think of something like that to use with women, although I do have an idea of my own."
"What is it?" asks Mary.
"Oh, don't encourage her!" sighs Adora.
Diana chuckles and puts out her cigarette stub in a little olive-colored ashtray situated between her and Mary, then lights up a fresh one as she answers. "Well, ladies, picture if you will four naked women crouched down on hands and knees, each one with their bodies aligned in the four cardinal directions, pretty heads together, lovely bottoms out, under a low, round table covered with a large sheet of hammered gold, gold the color of a Spanish doubloon, with the outer rim bent up vertically about an inch to an inch and a half high. At least."
 "Bold," muses Aggie. "And I would know."
 "Sounds interesting, Di, but what's this piece's draw?" asks Adora.
 "Oh, don't you see it, darling? Well, I did say 'lovely bottoms out', didn't I? Out! So that anyone-"
 "Christ, Di!" exclaims Adora.
 "Just striking another blow for equality in the Modern Arts, darling!" Diana retorts as she blows an air kiss to her partner.
 "Well, then, in that sort of scenario and all things being equal those poor lads over there would have to fuck any and every woman who was a guest here, wouldn't they, Di?"
 "Why not? All may fuck who can!"
 "And-and the hostess?" Mary asks mock-hopefully.
 "No, she must needs attend to her guests."
 "Damn! So would you suggest using, well...whores for that?"
 "Those, or really any young girls of easy virtue will do. And any monies, mostly for said whores, may be laid on the table. Honor system, don'tcha know."
 "And what about buggery, Di?" Adora asks sarcastically.
 "Not n-oh, you meant-well, for who, exactly?"
 "Anyone. Men or women."
 "That should really be left to the host or hostess' discretion."
 "And the guests' comfort," adds Mary.
 "Naturally."
 "Not a bad idea, Di!" chirps Aggie. "Would never involve myself in it, but still."
 "Yes. Too bad it won't happen," mutters Adora.
 "Oh, not true, Addie me gel. We could set something like that up at the 'Lysistrata Club' in Cheltenham, or even 'Hell-Fire Harry's' in Fitzrovia. We could! Haven't hit upon a name for it yet but it'll come, no doubt." She pauses to twist the second stub into the ashtray. "Besides 'Neo-Fauvism' really feels a bit blase to me now."
 Adora sits up ramrod straight and gapes at her girlfriend. "What? Blase? Di, you've never said-how can you say-damn it, just what are you saying?!"
 "All's I'm doing, my darling, is thinking out loud. Simple. And these thoughts are really quite new."
 Adora arches an eyebrow. "How new?"
 "Excuse me, ladies," interjects Mary, standing abruptly. "I really can't take it anymore."
 "What is it, Mary?" Aggie asks.
 "There's something that needs doing right now." She hands her empty beer bottle to Aggie and swiftly strides over to the 'Titans' table. With no hesitation she stands at the lower edge, inhales deeply and stuns all in the room by cupping her hands to her mouth and bellowing, "TIME, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PLEASE!!!!" In the ensuing brouhaha Mary calmly and lovingly informs the 'Titans' of her party's end and for them to clean themselves up which, still masked and phallused, they do eagerly and without question. Diana offers a cigarette to a grateful Lidia, and both gleefully smoke and watch Aggie and Mary herd the chittering, protesting aristos in a gradual swoop out the front door. Adora simply sits and gapes.
 "NononoImnotnotfinishedyetMaryyoucan't-!"
 "DamnyouMissMontaguehowdareyouhowdareyouIamapeeroftherealm!"
 "OhpleasepleaseMarydon'tshutusoutitsveryquitetoohotoutside!"
 "SHUT UP!!" Mary roars. "AND GET OUT!!!"
 "YEAH, VAMOOSE, YOU ORNERY VARMINTS!!" adds Aggie with melodramatic brio.
 "Love it," purrs Diana.
 "Si!" agrees Lidia heartily.


  _______________________________________________________



 "Well, gentlemen," declares Mary, her upper body now mostly concealed in a loosely fastened men's shirt, "I do believe a few introductions are in order."
 "Go it!" says one of the men jauntily.
 "Lay on!" adds another.
 "Quite," says Aggie.
  The four former 'Titans' stand across from the other three women and shake hands as Mary announces the latters' names. "Now I think you already know my-my good friend Arch Windham."
 Arch smiles and bows. "A pleasure meeting you again, ladies!"
 "Good Lord, how you're blushing, Mary!" notes Diana wryly.
 "Oh, shush! Now moving on, here's the man without whom part of that silly endeavor would not have been possible - Dr.Trevor Trewe!"
 Aggie gasps. "What?! Trevor Trewe Trevor Trewe?! The one who-!"
 "That's right, Miss Dovecote," says Trevor with a chuckle as he holds up a small, cinch closed velvet bag. "I brought the party favors, so to speak."
 "Well, not for us, obviously!" snorts Diana.
 "Did any of your patients who use them ever know you, well, 'borrowed' them and for what purpose?" asks Adora.
 "Actually these aren't the only set I have, Miss Canning, there are other ones made specifically for my patients. But yes, I did tell them regardless."
 "And so?" asks Diana.
 "It was absolutely astounding. They burst out laughing, and quite hard too! Thought a few of them might give up the ghost on the spot. I really didn't expect that reaction by half but...it was rather nice to hear." He glances sadly down at his shoes. "I don't most days."
 "Do you believe laughter was the best medicine, then?" asks Lidia.
 "Not quite, Miss Belzoni, but it can be damned helpful for them sometimes!"
 "I'm very glad of that, Trevor," says Mary. "But now if I may move on to these next gentlemen-"
 "Lady Mary," says one of the gentlemen in question, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you ought to know that Lord P____ and I really must leaving now."
 "Oh? What for?"
 "Lord M____ and I playing in a match over at Lord's that's to begin at 2:30," says Lord P____. "It's near two now but we'd like to get there a bit early, if that's possible. We've got our own bats, balls and wickets in here, too, in case any of you were wondering." He holds up a large, shapeless black leather bag.
 "Woof! Playing cricket in this weather!" exclaims Diana. "Are you both mad?"
 Lord M____smiles boyishly. "Perhaps, Miss Dumont. But I suppose Englishmen, like mad dogs, must also go out in the afternoon sun."
 "That's the silliest thing I ever heard!"
 Lord P_____ chuckles and shrugs. "At any rate we really must be going. I don't speak for Lord M____, Miss Montague, but this whole being starkers around people with and without severe addictions was, well, quite a new and liberating experience for me."
 "Very," says Lord M____. "Thank you, once again, for that opportunity, Miss Montague. Odd though it was."
 "Oh, no, thank you, gentlemen!" replies Mary. "Sometimes I can't believe it ever happened. But for sure it's over now and-say, may I borrow one of your cricket bats for something quickly?"
 "I-suppose so, Miss Montague," Lord P____says as he trades puzzled glances with Lord M____. The former unzips the bag and hands her a pocked wooden bat crisscrossed with scars.
 "Thank you," Mary says sweetly. "Won't be but a moment!" She hurries over to the glass table and, while keeping her eyes shut and face averted, smashes the pane with the bat in one powerful blow.
 "Mary!" shouts Aggie.
 "Oh my God!" exclaims Diana.
 Mary violently kicks the table over, sighs and returns the bat to Lord P____. "Nepenthe is now permanently dry. Forever and ever." She pecks both him and Lord M____ on the cheek. "Now go. Play a ripping game but please, please don't overdo it in this weather." The startled Lords bow to her and the others and make a hasty exit.
 "You really shouldn't have done that, Mary. Flying glass bits and all that. Not safe," chides Trevor as he scans her face and arms "I don't see any cuts on you, though."
 "Lucky me."
 "Quite." Trevor smiles and winks. "Thanks for that, by the way."
 "Oh, I did it for all of us."
 "Well, I'd love nothing more than to stay and help clean that up but I ought to return to the hospital for rounds. And bring these back, of course. Is that all right?"
 "Trevor, I've always been amazed at your stamina, let alone that all four of you have come here again just for this, so yes, by all means go. You've served Art quite well, but thou art now released from that damnable Hades." She kisses him on the cheek. "And give those beautiful boys my regards, will you?" she whispers.
 "I shall." He bids all goodbye and slips out also into the summer heat.
 "Right, before anyone speaks, Diana, may I have a fag, please? Don't dare say a word." Diana supplies her friend with one and lights it. After taking a few drawn out, satisfied puffs she says, "Let me see...Aggie, Lidia, Diana, Adora and Arch."
 "That's us, pardner!" declares Aggie.
 "I've an excellent idea, but are any of you willing to remain and hear it out?" The five all heartily agree.
 Mary grins and glances at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Good. Then who wants to take the 2:15 to Brighton for a nice cool bathe in the goddamn English channel?"


                                
                                         TO BE CONTINUED
 








 

Longing

ah!
mi fanciulla!
mi principessa!
mi amore!
to feel your arms around me
over there, in Sorrento,
where you are now!
oh, si, si!
to walk in the night's green gardens
behind your father's villa
and love each other 
under a bright summer moon
so high up in the heavens
si!
sighing, sighing passionately,
then the bacio!
ah! that one, so fatal from you,
that flings me into ecstasy
and so gladdens my heart!

si, to love you from way out here
is not impossible,
even when the great gulf
of the beautiful, jealous Mediterraneo
keeps us far apart,
but never forever

no,
never forever

ENOUGH!! I WILL come to you, my beloved!
tonight! yes, it must be,
it will be TONIGHT!!!!

my father is not so vigilant,
my 'prison' not so secure

Sorrento, BEWARE!!!!
paradiso awaits me-no,
she IS my paradiso!!
and that I shall never, ever
be denied AGAIN!!!! NO!!!!

I come to you tonight, my beloved!
I come to you ready,
ready for love!
ah!
mi fanciulla!
mi principessa!
mi amore!


DB/c1996,2015



 
 

Beach Maiden

Your seashell heart
 And sandy skin,
Your pebbly teeth
 Could fortunes win

Your seaweed hair
 (A work of art)
Could not outshine
 Your seashell heart

Please give to me
Your seashell heart


DB/c1996

A Verie Straynge Shorte Storie

                                                  African anthill



 "Look!" whispered Baron Rumpe in horror to Lord Harry Coxcombe X as the former pointed to the dusky figure capering in the copse near Bloodsoake Manor. "There she is!"
 "Where, where?!" exclaimed Lord Harry excitedly, his eyes searching the distant place Baron Rumpe was pointing to. He gasped. "I say! That's - no, it-it can't be my wife!"
 Baron Rumpe sadly shook his head. "I'm afraid it is, my young friend. Professor Mesgali has transformed your beloved Lady Evelyne into a strange sort of primal mud woman, though her state of mind is not so much primal as it is, shall we say, juvenile. But the old devil had hypnotized her to act as such when he whispered the word 'Zoroastrianism' in her small, clean, pink, shell-like ear."
 Lord Harry looked at Baron Rumpe. "How do you know all of this, Cedric?" he asked.
 "I was there in the parlor when she was hypnotized."
 "Well, then, why the devil didn't you stop him, man?!"
 "Because he had momentarily stunned me with a blow to the head as I entered the parlor and then tied me fast to a chair. I awoke to unhappily witness Mesgali working his ghastly will upon Evelyne. After they both hastened from the parlor I struggled like a mad bull in my bonds and smashed the chair to pieces, thus effecting my liberty. I knew, of course, that you were due to finally return to Bloodsoake this morning, so I deemed it better to wait for you first so that you could stop him, you being our big strapping British hero of Bloemaritzburg Drift, Amandla Kraal and the Battle of the Little Koppie!"
 Lord Harry turned crimson with anger. "We actually lost all of those battles, Cedric, and you know that!" he said harshly.
 "Ye-es. But-but think on this, Lord Harry - you lost them all for England!"
 Lord Harry suddenly struck a prideful pose, his head tilted towards the rising sun, jaw set, lips pursed and just slightly quivering. "That's quite true, Cedric! Still, Little Koppie - my God, that was just me and a huge bloody anthill, and it - no, no, not again! Get away, you little demons, get away! Ouch! Arrggh, no, it burns, it BURNS!!!"
 "Harry, are you all right?! Are you having a traumatic transitory hallucinogenic occurrence?"
 "What?! No! What?! Uh...n-no, I'm-I'm fine now, but - please, Cedric, just - never, ever mention that one to me again!"
 "O-of course. Quite sorry, old boy. But returning to Mesgali, in the beginning I believed it was all some sort of a rather unfunny joke on the Prof's part but, well...here we are."
 Lord Harry slapped his hand down on Baron Rumpe's shoulder. "You did the right thing in waiting for me first. I only just wish I had returned months ago." He gritted his tiny, pearly white teeth. "But all those goddamned Boers! And Zulus!"
 "You mustn't blame yourself, Harry, it was war. But come, we must-"
 "And Hottentots and Xhosa! My God, I didn't even know there were any bloody Xhosa left after they nearly all snuffed it back in the 'Fifties!"
 "Harry, please!  We must go at once to Evelyne and aid her however we can now that Mesgali is dead."
 Lord Harry looked at Baron Rumpe again. "How do you know Professor Mesgali is dead, Cedric?"
 "I've just seen him strangling himself to death in front of his bedroom window."
 "Capital!" Lord Harry growled and spat fiercely on the ground, but suddenly realizing he had just sullied good old England with his sizable expectoration collapsed onto all fours and lapped it back into his mouth while also accruing bits of fescue. "I 'ope thuh bounderth rottin' in Hadeeth! Ptuh! Uck!" he sputtered as he rose back to his feet with Baron Rumpe's assistance.
 The latter nodded. "I should think so. But now let us go and help your dear Evelyne without more undue hesitation."
 "Yes, let's. And this time I shan't let her out of my sight again!"
 Baron Rumpe rolled his eyes. He'd heard that before.
 As they approached the copse where Lady Evelyne was the morning sun slid further over the eastern horizon and bathed the grounds of Bloodsoake Manor in a brilliant ochre glow.
 "Evelyne!" gasped Lord Harry.
 And indeed it was.
 Her crass laughter echoed loudly as she cavorted fully naked in a wet patch of mud amidst the cool, shady enclosure of the leafy copse. Close by lay the unsettling sight of Baron Rumpe's deceased prize pig, the Kaiser, a knife hilt protruding from its right flank. Lord Harry was jolted upon seeing it, the Baron nearly fainting but manfully struggling with many coughs and harrumphs to compose himself. Lady Evelyne stood up and watched the two men approach the copse, her blue eyes wild and shining, filthy strands of her long raven hair plastered against her dingy face. She grinned and giggled idiotically.
 "It's about bloody time you got here!" she exclaimed shrilly. "What were you two men discussing so earnestly of over there?"
 "Y-you, dearest," murmured Lord Harry.
 "Professor Mesgali's dead, Evelyne," said Baron Rumpe softly.
 "Hip hip hurrah!" Lady Evelyne shouted joyfully. "And two more for that oozy bastard! Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip-!" And she substituted the "hurrah" with a loud fart, much to the men's chagrin. "Welcome home, Harry, by the way!" She stretched out her arms and lunged at him, but he leapt back, horrified. With a shrug she squatted down, clawed up a clump of mud and raked it through her hair.
 "Cedric, she is not - I mean, none of that is her own - filth - is it?
 "Oh, no, I should say not, Harry!" Baron Rumpe vehemently replied. "Just before I went to meet you I happened to spot her in the garden relieving herself in one of your grandfather's old wellies."
 Lord Harry sighed with relief. "That, at least, is something like being civilized. Not at all ladylike, though, but better than - well, what I feared."
 Lady Evelyne darted her arm up to Lord Harry, who recoiled once again. "Come and frolic with me, darling! The mud is so nice and cool, but do remove all of your clothes first so you can feel the full effect of it on your body." She giggled. "You'll have never felt so damned free in all your born days, it's wonderful and ever so much fun! So come on, Harry, darling, dearest. Hmm?"
 Lord Harry looked sadly down at his shoes and said nothing.
 Lady Evelyne pouted, then brightened. "At least have a bit of the Kaiser, Harry, seeing as how it must be quite near to breakfast time. No? It's really rather delicious. How about you, Baron, hmm? I must say you did a splendid job in keeping him nice and plump. I never had better bacon, even if it was raw!"
 Baron Rumpe winced but, like Lord Harry, kept silent.
 "You're not hungry either, eh? Well, then, Baron, would you like to frolic with me for a bit?"
 He shuddered and turned deathly pale, but once more refused to answer her.
 Lady Evelyne suddenly rose up and glared hotly at them. "Come on, gentlemen, say something!" she demanded. "What the bloody hell is your problem?! Have some fun for once in your lives, because you're both just such sticks in the mud! In fact I wish you two would be sticks in this mud so I wouldn't feel so alone here!" She squatted back down and spilled muffled sobs into her hands.
 Lord Harry gritted his teeth once again; he just couldn't abide this tableau any longer. A thought suddenly struck him. "Do you know how to undo the spell Professor Mesgali has cast on my beloved, Cedric? Do you remember the magic word or words that could be the cure for her - condition? Because I want my little Evie back!"
 Baron Rumpe gasped. "By Jove, I did! He confided it to me just before he escaped!" He frowned. "But he also announced that it has to be uttered in exactly his voice, or at most contain its frightful basso quality, and since I sound more or less like him I can make an effort - but I don't know if -"
 "Capital, Cedric!" interrupted Lord Harry. "Go it, then!"
 "But I don't know if I can do it, Harry."
 Lord Harry again placed his hand, though more gently this time, on Baron Rumpe's shoulder and gazed deeply into his eyes. "Try, old friend, try. Not for me but only for my beloved Evelyne." He paused dramatically. "Your niece."
 Tears coursed from Baron Rumpe's bleary eyes and trickled over his bushy grey whiskers, but he quickly wiped them away with a handkerchief and nodded in agreement. He moved nearer to where Lady Evelyne still sat crying, cleared his throat and in a chillingly deep voice intoned the word 'Msinairtsaoroz'.
 "What the hell kind of a word is that, Cedric?" Lord Harry asked irately.
 Baron Rumpe grinned. "It's 'Zoroastrianism' spelled backwards, Harry!"
 "Huh!" Lord Harry spat on the ground again and keened like an ailing dog as he once again dropped down and lapped up the thick globule from the sacred earth. "That's thuh thilliest thing I ever heard, Thedric! Ptuh! Ick!"
 "But it worked, Harry! Look!"
 The two men watched Lady Evelyne slowly rise up, stretch, yawn deeply and blink a few times in the bright sunlight. "Oh, my goodness! What time is it? Uncle, what hap-HARRY!!" Lady Evelyne leapt towards her best beloved and knocked him backwards to the dewy ground. They clasped each other voraciously and traded rough, violent kisses.
 "Is it you? Is it really, really you, my beautiful little Evie?"
 "Oh, yes, Harry, yes, it's me! Are you really here at last, my love, after tarrying so long on that hideous continent?"
 "Yes, yes, yes, an eternity of yeses! And I shall never leave you again! Never never never!!
 "Oh, husband husband husband!!"
 "Oh, wife wife wife!!"
 "Haroom!! Ehrm!!" growled Baron Rumpe.
 "Oh, uncle, I mustn't forget you!" Lady Evelyne cried.
 "Here! My coat!" And Lord Harry wrapped his greatcoat around Lady Evelyne's body before she eagerly embraced Baron Rumpe.
 "Welcome back to sanity, my dear!"
 "Uncle, I am so sorry-!"
 "Don't. It was Mesgali's doing, not yours."
 "But the Kaiser!"
 "You were not yourself when you...did that. Besides you matter much, much more to me right now than the Kaiser does! Are you quite better now?"
 "Yes, I think so."
 "But wait, Evie!" Lord Harry interjected. "You should see a physician right away if you've eaten any of the pig!"
 Lady Evelyne shook her head. "I actually haven't, Harry, that was a lie. You can see he's still pretty whole."
 Lord Harry made a quick inspection of the porcine corpse. "Hmm.Yes, he seems to be. It's just the one wound that seemed to get him right in the heart. But how on earth did this happen? Why did you kill him?"
 "I-I can't quite remember everything I've done, it's all still a bit murky. I do know why I killed the Kaiser, though, but if I tell you will the both of you please forgive me, you especially, uncle?"
 "Of course!" they exclaimed.
 Lady Evelyne took a deep breath. "I hated your bloody pig, uncle (pardon my language). I could understand you diligently keeping him well-fed and mucking the shit (pardon again) out of his sty and all that, but singing him off-key Gilbert and Sullivan songs and reading those awful Henty novels to him at night was a bit much. If you remember, uncle, you and I were to journey to Bath together last week for my birthday treat. I really only wanted to spend a little time with you, too, before Harry's return, because you are the only family I have left in England...but the Kaiser always demanded your complete attention. So when Professor Mesgali hypnotized me into being, well, a bit wild I succumbed to my darker nature even as I felt...I don't know, quite lighter in spirits. And also in body after I shed all of my clothes. Oh, how absolutely freeing that was! But I remember hurrying down to the kitchen (I must've frightened Cook near to death, poor thing!) and grabbing that big kitchen knife from the rack just before I fled outside. I ran straight to the Kaiser's sty and flung open the gate. He must have been quite alarmed at seeing me advancing towards him in such a state that he tore out and made a bee-line here, squealing in fright the whole way, and I gave chase. He somehow lost his balance as he raced into the copse, slid into the mud there and landed on his side, too big to easily rise up again, writhing around and just...squealing so horribly that my first act upon reaching him was to give him one big hard thrust in his right side with my knife just-just to silence those awful noises! Of all the animal noises in Providence's blessed creation pig squealing is the fucking worst (pardon again)! Even in my state of mind I was amazed that he only shuddered and expired straight away. You needn't believe me, uncle, when I say this but I didn't have any hate in my heart for the Kaiser when I stabbed him. I know it was murder, not a kindness or mercy, and he wasn't suffering at all, just indisposed. But afterwards I seemed to forget about him as all I really felt like doing was to just muck about in the mud, and I freely admit I loved it. And why not, for a bit? It was good enough for the poor Kaiser. And then you gentlemen arrived at the copse and...well, here we are. Will you still forgive me now, uncle?"
 Baron Rumpe's mustache twitched but he remained mute as he stared into his niece's pleading eyes.
 "Uncle, are you all right? Please say something because you're beginning to frighten me!"
 His face broke into a warm, relaxed smile and he gingerly re-embraced his niece. "Ahhh, he was just a pig, my dear, just a pig. Bred and fattened for slaughter and consumption. But you...you are my beloved nie-no, you truly are like the daughter I've always wanted but...all I want now is for you to be as right as rain, and to never, ever see you in that state again!" He rubbed clean a spot on her forehead and kissed it. "I both forgive and love you, my happy little Evie. Are you happy?"
 "Oh yes, uncle, yes, always!" Lady Evelyne tearfully replied. "And I am better now, and shan't play the savage woman again. The spell is broken."
 "Capital! Would you still like to journey to Bath with me in future? For your somewhat belated birthday treat?"
 "Really? Yes, yes, of course, uncle!" she squealed with girlish delight. "Thank you very much!"
 Lord Harry laughed. "But I believe you need only concern yourself with your morning bath right now, Evie! Shall we see to it?"
 Lady Evelyne leapt into her husband's arms and pecked his cheek. "I was never readier for one in my whole life! Let's go inside. Uncle, are you coming?"
 "N-no, my dear, I really must see to the Kaiser...one last time."
 "Oh. Uncle, again, I am so sorry-"
 Baron Rumpe smiled weakly and raised a hand in protest. "No, it's fine, Evie. Go with your husband."
 "Shall we expect you for tea later, Cedric?" asked Lord Harry.
 "Yes. No. I don't know," murmured Baron Rumpe. "I don't know."
 "Right. Rum business. Quite sorry, Cedric. Well, I suppose we'll be getting back to Bloodsoake now. Ready, my love?"
 "Of course," answered Lady Evelyne softly, her gaze locked on her uncle's stooped figure. Lord Harry hefted her up in his arms and began to carry her away from the copse.
 "Oh, wait! What about Mesgali's body, Harry?" asked Lady Evelyne.
 Lord Harry turned his head and spat for a third time into the grass. "Damned blighter!" he bellowed.
 "Let me do it, my dear!" Lady Evelyne giggled as she squirmed out of his arms and like him also flung herself down on all fours and lapped up his spittle. "Ith ath good ath dew!" she exclaimed brightly.
 Lord Harry grimaced. "That's a bit disgusting, Evie, but thank you. But I shall instruct old Bloate to make the necessary calls to the police after breakfast and they must dispose of him and his effects, if there were any. Bloodsoake must be fully purged of his presence."
 "Good, I absolutely agree! Now take me up again, please."
 "All right, up you come! There's my girl! Right, we shall see you at tea later, Cedric!" And Lord Harry carried his wife away without further interruption, though there shone in her eyes a wicked glee as she looked over his shoulder at the turbid mud patch.
 Baron Rumpe stood limply, heedless of all except the Kaiser's body, which already was drawing a buzzing cloud of black flies, and his spilt blood birthing a reeking miasma in the rising August heat. The Baron gazed down at his beloved pig for quite some time.
 Then he fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably.


DB/c1998.2014,15
 
 


  

   

 
             

   

   

 


   

ICH WUSSTE DASS NICHT!! (OI DINNA KEN!!)

Gott in Himmel GOTT in HIMMEL!

es tut mir leid, Hansi...

                                              *   FALCO *

                                
                                     
                                       FEB 19, 1957 - FEB 6, 1998                      
                                                                
                                                                
                                                     
ich wusste dass nicht.

wo bist du jetzt?
kannst du fuehlen?
kannst du sehen?

ruhst du nicht im Friede,
aber...

ROCK ON!!!!!!

DB/8.1.01,2015



Und Ich bin noch traurig. Danke.

 



           
                      

The Hole In The Wall (What Is It?)

i see a small hole in the wall
surrounded by strange markings,
pictures,
drawings

what is it?
what is it?
what is it?
what is it?

is it an entrance to another world?
is it a place where i can find another girl?
is it where free spirits can dwell?
or is there just another banana boat to Hell?

is it a place where i can find the harem?
is it where i can find
a Turkish seraglio, a Turkish bath
and naked Turkish women
who will sit on my - lap?

is it a place where colonies have been built
by insurrectionist ants
who stand on their miniscule soapboxes
and scream that they refuse to pay a tax
on the British ants' tea?

what is it?
what is it?
what is it?
what IS it?

is there an ocean on the other side?
or are there blacklisted librarians with nothing to hide?
is it a starry room where angels dwell?
or is it just another gateway to Hell?

what is it?



 DB/c1992,2015

What Cometh The Morrow?: A One-Minute Play

NOTE: This post-WWI poster is the first and almost perfect thing I thought of to use for the scene below. But each has no real bearing on the other, as you'll soon see. Thank'ee.


The setting is the family room of a modest suburban home in Anytown, U.S.A. circa the early 1930s.
Judy and Jimmy Everyman lie prostate on the floor and gaze worshipfully up at the Philco radio/storyteller/neo-Moloch (this was, of course, before Television/Sauron) as it relates the latest thrilling, clamorous episode of "Tom Sinew, American He-Man!".
Shifting uncomfortably nearby in his easy chair in the corner is their father Robert 'Bob' Everyman, who is grimly poring over all the bad news in the evening paper and gingerly turning each page with the same discomfort one might feel if they had to move, say, a tarantula molt by hand from one place to another. A swath of electric light shines down on him and the poisoned pages from the stark reading lamp just behind. Once in a while he sighs and scratches parts of his face and head, and occasionally smiles at his children with a doleful affection. There is a wife/mother but she's somewhere else right now. Feel free to place her in your own imagination - her mother's house/her lover's pied-a-terre/market/soup kitchen/Heaven/Hell/the Palace Theater, wherever. But hark,"Tom Sinew" seems to be wrapping up...

Radio Announcer: Will Tom, along with good Mary Golden and Finch Glass, boy genius, escape a certain swift death from their private plane that was defueled by Tom's mystical arch-nemesis Dr.Li Chong, the Devil of Old China?! Will the one parachute he left behind be enough to float them all to safety?! And will Tom and the gang ever find the fabled treasure island of Bao Daioyu?! Whew! Tune in tomorrow, boys and girls, as-!
Jimmy switches off the radio and hurries with his sister to their Dad's side to fret him with one concern.
Jimmy: Daddy, do you think-?
Judy: Will Tom and his friends be okay?
Jimmy: Yeah, will they? He cuffs Judy on the shoulder for interrupting him. She glares sidelong at him but lets it slide for now.
Bob lays down his paper and looks blankly at his waiting children.
Bob (very softly): I-I don't know, my dears. His cups his face with his hands and starts to weep. I don't know!
Judy and Jimmy suddenly burst into tears and scramble into their father's lap.
Bob: I don't know! I don't know! I don't know!


                                                     
                                                      SCENE



DB/2015

Okies On the Dead Ground: A One-Act Play

Ebner Scholtz' Farm.          
Two miles outside of Doone, Oklahoma Panhandle.  

July, 1935. Early sunset.
                            
Hot, dry desolation as far as the eye can see.
                      
A short ways off to the East is a dilapidated two-story house
with a large farm equipment shed squatting adjacent to it.
Parked in front of it is a filthy, broken down 1928 Ford Truck.
Next to the truck, in striking contrast,
is a brand new 1935 Ford DeLuxe Roadster
coated with a thin film of prairie dust.
Two men stand on part of what once was
deeply furrowed, arable farmland,
now saturated with black dust 
and barely able to produce even a few meagre weeds.
One of the men is Ebner Scholtz, 60,
arms crossed, looking slightly stooped and raggedy
in his faded overalls and stained white cotton shirt, 
with a drooping cloth hat covering his head
while on his damp, unshaven face sits a perpetual scowl.
Just behind him, hat in hand, stands his nephew Pete Scholtz, 39,
a stout man wearing a stylish but rumply beige suit.
He mops his usually jovial but flushed and tired face 
with a white handkerchief
as well as habitually smooths his ruffled, thinning black hair
and, glissando-like, his pencil mustache.
He stands arms akimbo and stares hard at his uncle, 
or rather, at his uncle's back.



Pete (donning his hat): All right, Ebner, I've had enough now. It's gonna git dark real soon, so fer the near hundred time are ya gonna come with me or not?
Ebner: An' you already got my answer near a hunderd times back, boy: naw, I ain't! So you kin tell yer Maw, God bless 'er, that you drove alla way out here from yer fancy-pants foreman job at that apple orchard fer nothin'!
Pete (unruffled): You know I kin still get ya a place there, dontcha? My offer still stands. Besides you remember Lucy Smalls over in Sitlow, the gal who was (clears his throat) was one o' Aunt Bessie's best pianny students?
Ebner (after a pause, softly): Yeah, I remember. She was real good. Purty, too.
Pete: Well, I give her an' her Ma an' Pa places at that orchard now, and they're doin' a swell job. Bunch o' other Sooners I know are there, too. So we got some of our own folk there, at least. (leans closer to him and grins) An' it pays a dollar a bushel!
Ebner (spins around to face him): A dollar a bushel! Goddamn, boy, then you can't really get no place for me, can ya, if that's the goin' rate! Ain't no one else gonna pass that up, are they? Might as well jes' stay here an' live off this here dust 'n' dirt! An' yeah, I mean eat it!
Pete (wearily): Yeah, Ebner, like I tol' ya fer the hundreth time I can git ya somethin'. I meant that. An' we both know ya ain't gonna eat any o' that, though after I seen that your pantry's less'n half full now ya just might need to soon. (chuckles) Guess the Doone Ladies' Lutheran Alms Society, or whatever th' hell it was, either washed their hands o' ya or skipped out west like most ev'ryone else.
Ebner: Sheddup, I got enough! An' I ain't above gettin' some charity, at least not when ya take this (pointing down to his land) into consideration! Don't wanna starve when I ain't got nothin' ta buy groceries with! An' at least I ain't takin' a dime from the gov'mint! Still proud o' that!
(Pete stoops to pick up a handful of the dust and gazes at it as it seeps through his fingers.)
Ebner: What th' hell are you doin' down there, boy?
Pete (after a short pause, somberly): Wonderin'. Say, how much o' this did they say they found in Aunt Bessie's mouth an' throat?
Ebner (taken aback): Th' hell? What'd you say?
Pete: After th' big storm. What'd th' docs and cor'ner say 'bout it?
Ebner: What th'-? I don't see-
Pete: Forgit it, guess it don't matter. They couldn't save 'er. (stands) I'm real sorry, Ebner. Damn. That weren't right at all. Not at all. (choking up a little) Poor Bessie!
Ebner: Yeah. It's been-been real hard goin' without 'er. (pause) You don't wish it'd been me instead, boy, do ya?
Pete (quickly recovering, surprised): What? Oh, naw, Ebner! Goddamn, what a thing ta say! Wouldn't even wish that on that crazy Hitler fella! Well, how's 'bout this? (keening theatrically) "Poor Ebner! Oh, poor, poor Ebner! A good man gone way, way too soon!" (smiles sheepishly) Naw, it ain't quite th' same 'cause yer still here. But it's still jest like I done fer Bessie, sorta. I'd still say it 'cept with lots more feelin'.
Ebner (skeptical): Right. Well, I'm headin' inside 'fore it gets any darker. (He starts to walk towards the house.)
Pete (surprised but hopeful): Oh, so are we goin' then? You need to pack some things or-
Ebner: Naw, I ain't goin', jes' like I said. Gotta light the lamps. So, 'night, boy! (pauses to look back, smirks) Better get goin'. You prob'ly gotta long drive ahead o' ya!
Pete: Really, Ebner? Is that-? Is-? (growls and abruptly pulls out an Army service revolver from his pants pocket and levels it at Ebner) You-you goddamn, stubborn ol' sonofabitch!
Ebner (turns in surprise): Huh?
Pete (gritting through his teeth): Jesus, ol' man, you got nothin' left here t'all! Nothin'! An' yer still-! 
Ebner (eyeing the gun suspiciously): Hey. Hey, where-where'd ya get that?
Pete: What's it matter? Found it inside.
Ebner (hotly): Where inside?!
Pete: In th' strongbox with th' busted lock that ya keep under yer bed. Yeah, I know. I'd seen it on yer dresser once a few years back when we had that family gatherin'. Figured it was still there, and so... (pause) yeah, I know this is Thad's gun, Ebner.
Ebner (inching slowly towards Pete, his hand beckoning): Gimme it, boy! Right now!
Pete: How you even got this at all? I thought it fell in the crick when-
Ebner: Sheddup, boy! Don't you even-don't-jes' gimme the gun!
Pete: But how-?
Ebner (ferociously): I SAID GIMME THE GUN!!! NOW!!!
Pete jumps slightly at this burst of anger. He warily considers his uncle for a moment, then carefully tosses the gun underhand like a horseshoe so it lands near Ebner's feet. Ebner quickly scoops it up and holds it tenderly with both hands.
Ebner: Bastard!
Pete (a little shaken, but casually): Aw, hell, Ebner, it ain't even loaded!
Ebner: I know it! An' it ain't gonna be ever again!
Pete (pause, softly): Ebner, I-
Ebner: You saw 'im, Thad, when he come back after you did! You remember, right?
Pete: Yeah. I was only an' ambulance driver but I'd seen some...real godawful shit. (bows his head and sighs) Most o' it too up damn close.
Ebner: Right. But yer okay, ain'tcha? You still makin' it in the world well an' good, with no problems with yer brain or body all these years later, right?
Pete: Now see here, Ebner, I ain't exactly without some scars, least on my own heart an' soul. But...yeah, I guess I been doin' okay since then. 
Ebner: Alrighty, then. Now suppose you jes' tell me, boy, how th' hell was my son gonna come back, nary a scritch on 'im, an' he ain't even just the tiniest bit like Bessie an' I remembered 'im, huh? Shakin', staggerin' 'round like a wind-up toy, couldn't talk, couldn't feed or clothe or really do anythin' hisself, an allus had this-this scared look in his eyes. Don't think he even rec'nized us no more. Oh, you saw 'im. You remember. An' Bessie an' I surely did our best by Thad but-Jesus Christ! (pause, chokes up) Oh, Bessie, Bessie! I shoulda stayed home that day!
Pete (confused): Bessie? Wait, so it warn't you that saw-?
Ebner (shakes his head vigorously): It was back in 'bout April o' '19. Thad hadn't been home that long. You remember, right? I hadda go into town ta buy some feed fer the horses I still can't b'lieve I don't need no more. Jesus. (glances sadly down) One day Bessie was gettin' ready ta fix Thad some lunch, an' last time she checked on 'im he was jes' sittin' in his bedroom starin' out th' window. She tried talkin' ta him a little, but he was mute as usual. (long pause) An'-an' then later, th' first thing I hear when I'm drivin' up is Bessie screamin' and cryin' somethin' awful! Christ, I ain't never heard a wooman sound like that afore! Then I foller her voice an' see her strugglin' mightily ta haul Thad out o' that crick by his belt, 'cause he were near ta halfway in already. Course I ran like hell over there ta lend her a hand, an' when I looked at the crick I saw all this red in the water, flowin' downstream. Blood. (Pause) An' some o' what I thought was his...(winces)
Pete: What? His...brains?
Ebner (pause, in a hoarse whisper): Yeah.
Pete: Aw, Jesus!
Ebner: So as I'm pullin' on 'im I'm thinkin' at th' same time that I really dint want Bessie ta see how bad he mighta looked. So we finally flop him on his back an'-naw, naw, I can't. All-all's I'll say is Bessie fainted dead away, an', well, it was almost too much fer me ta take. (pause) I came real close ta bein' hauled off ta th' nuthouse, ya know that?
Pete: Naw, I dint.
Ebner (pause): Thad's death was called a suicide by th' cops. They were really sorry 'bout it, too, Thad bein' in the war an' all. Real nice, respectful guys. But they were also kinda sore they couldn't find th' gun and said it musta tumbled in the crick. (looks down at the revolver) Almost did.
(Pete opens his mouth to speak but resists.)
An' tho' I been grievin' fer the last fifteen ought years I've also been o' the opinion that Thad...well, there was somethin' left o' him up here (taps his temple) decidin' that it was just...enough. That a shell shock life ain't a life worth livin'. Still don't unnerstand it, but that's been good an answer as any, least for me. (pause) I-I hated Thad, at first, fer what he done to hisself. I admit it. An' yeah, I know I shouldn't even be sayin' that, or that he woulda been better off if the fuckin' Krauts just kilt 'im, or the docs, spite o' their 'first do no harm' bullshit. An' I still dunno how the hell he got ta th' crick without his Ma seein' 'im, or how she got there jest in time ta keep 'im from bein' swallered up in it. (pause) But she warn't th' same after that, 'cept she seemed happiest when playin' th' pianny or teachin' it ta th' local kids. But...now...(sighs deeply)
(Pete grimly purses his lips in thought as he faces south, eyes downcast as he mops his face and head. Then he looks up and gazes thoughtfully, but with some sadness, out into the distance. As Pete begins the following monologue Ebner pulls out a small cylinder from which he takes some bullets to load the gun, but he does this as quickly and quietly as possible while glancing off and on at his nephew.)
Pete: Hmm. Cricket Crick! Ha ha ha! Yeah, that was Thad's own name fer it, 'cause there seemed ta be lots o' 'em around that one year. Y'know I still can't b'lieve we tried this, but one day when we was both like 'bout thirteen, fourteen we stripped down nekkid an' swore we was both gonna swim that crick all th' way ta Washington D.C. an' try ta woo Miz Alice Roosevelt, th' President's famous peach o' a daughter! Ha ha ha! Me an' Thad was both pretty sweet on 'er, got a friendly rivalry goin' on, an' one day we decided on swimmin' out to Washington ta plead our cases before 'er, an' if need be duke it out fer th' honor of bein' 'er husband. Well, we jumped in an' got in a good 'nuff start, when suddenly we hear Aunt Bessie's whistlin' somethin' loud! An' when she whistled ya better had pay 'er heed, right, Ebner? (He turns around briefly and smiles at Ebner, who by this time has finished loading the gun and just as before holds it with both hands. Ebner nods stoically in agreement and offers a quick, tight smile.) Heh. Well, we swum back without climbin' out, 'cause we was nekkid, an' she asked us what in th' worl' was we swimmin' out so far fer. We tol' 'er, an' she jes' laughed so damned hard fit ta bust. Ha ha ha! Man, I sure do miss that big laugh o' hers! Even her ol' whistlin', too! But we was impatient ta set out, an' when she was done laughin' 'bout it, jes' big tears rollin' down 'er bright, happy face, she tol' us of the huge impr'priety of it. 'Cause, she said, what refined lady like Miz Alice Roosevelt could see th' sense o' two poor nekkid Okie boys dukin' it out fer her on, say, th' White House lawn, makin' a spect'cle o' themselves in front o' 'er busy daddy an' 'er family, ta boot? Ha ha ha! Oh my God! (Ebner, frowning darkly, slowly raises his gun and points it squarely at Pete's back.) Jesus, an' she said -ha ha ha!-that not only did that crick jest barely reach Enid-"barely" meanin' not at all! I checked it on a map! Ha ha ha! Not only that, but-but we was actually swimmin' west 'stead o' east! Ha ha ha ha ha! Hey, Ebner, what'd ya think about...that?
(Pete spins around right before he says the word "that". He freezes in horror as Ebner slides back the gun's hammer.)
Pete (suddenly recollecting the gun being unloaded, smiles with relief): Aw, put that damn thing away, Ebner! Shoulda never took it out an' used it like that ta begin with, seein' how it was Thad's, an' I'm real sorry 'bout that. But now we really gotta think 'bout headin' out! You'll be real glad ya did, Ebner, trust me. Dunno 'bout you, but I wanna take a nice long shower back at th' hotel 'fore we have a bite o' dinner. Ahh, can't wait fer that! An' th' sun's lookin' a lot lower now...(finally sees Ebner's quiet, unblinking glare, tenses)...an' we-an' we gotta maybe get ya...packed some too, right? (pause) R-right, Eb-?
Ebner (barely audible, in a breathy growl): God. Damn.
Pete: Huh?
Ebner (through gritted teeth): God. Damn. God. DAMN!! GODDAMN!!! GODDAMN CALIFORNY!!! (He spins around and fires off a bullet at the waning sunset.)
Pete (cringing): Jesus God!
(Ebner turns and aims his gun at the house but hesitates, his hand shaking, a flicker of pain suffusing his damp face.) 
Ebner: GODDAMN THAT USELESS OL' TRUCK!!!
(He shoots at the back of his truck and the bullet rips a hole in the spare tire.)
Pete (nervously): Unc, please stop!
Ebner: GODDAMN THIS WORTHLESS PIECE O' SHIT LAND!!!
(He pivots back West and shoots a bullet into a furrow a few feet away to his right, kicking up a large cloud of dust. Ebner then lifts his arm up at a 30 degree angle and fires into the air.)
Ebner: AN' GODDAMN GOD!!! (fires again) GODDAMN GOD!!
Pete: ENOUGH!! (He lunges for the gun but Ebner jams the muzzle against his own temple and again slides back the hammer. Pete stops in his tracks and meets his uncle's determined eyes.) Oh, yeah? Hey, dint ya say it warn't gonna be loaded again?
Ebner: Yeah. Guess I lied.
Pete: (chuckles humorlessly): Really. Ya know what, ol' man-jes'do it. Do it. (pause, vehemently) DO it, Unc! (Ebner remains frozen, long pause) Naw? Heh. Yeah, I know ya won't. An' o' course ya shouldn't tho' ya ain't got shit much ta live for. But it-mostly it's 'cause, well, 'cause ya really can't, can ya? An' not fer any holy reasons, neither.
Ebner (puzzled, raspily): Naw?
Pete: Uh-uh, 'cause I'm bettin' ya dint have six, Unc. Never had. Least not fer that partic'lar gun. (pause) Not fer fifteen damn years.
(Ebner hesitates and whimpers a little, then pulls the trigger. A loud metallic click sounds in the stifling air, startling both men. With a sudden frustrated, primal roar Ebner violently flings the pistol south at the dried up creek bed and collapses to the ground in kowtow fashion, sobbing heavily and clutching at handfuls of dust.)
Pete (after a minute or two has passed, softly): Unc...
(Ebner's sobbing gradually abates and he sits up, dust plastering his anguished face. Pete fishes into his inner coat pocket for a fresh handkerchief which he hands to Ebner, who haphazardly cleans his face with it.)
Ebner (muttering): Thankew.
Pete: Yeah, sure.
Ebner (pause, half-whisper): Pete...
Pete: Yeah?
(Ebner raises up an arm as the signal to be helped to his feet, with which his nephew readily obliges.) 
Ebner: Let's jest go.
Pete: Yeah. O-okay.
(Ebner appears more stooped and aged as Pete carefully curls an arm around his shoulders and slowly leads him to the Roadster.)
Ebner: Dollar a bushel, dollar a bushel.
Pete: Yeah.
Ebner: Goddamn it, a dollar a bushel.
Pete: It's true.
Ebner: Hmm.
Pete: Say, wh-what about yer clothes, an' th' food left in yer pantry?
Ebner: Leave it. (sighs deeply) Leave it all fer th' Livin'.



                                                                    


Music: 'Tomorrow Is A Long Time' by Bob Dylan (Thanks, Kaycie!)

This one may not have much relevance here, but I also suggest 'Houses In The Fields' by John Gorka.



DB/2015