Chapter 3
| The Story | The Authors |
|---|---|
| The sound of rain pelted down on Russel the rugby player's head. It wasn't all that disturbingly loud, but it was bugging him, because owing to some odd hyperacuity afflicting his ears, it sounded all too not unlike a dog chomping and licking itself, a sound that had always driven him frighteningly bonkers. Why had he even gone on this dratted walk in the first place? He'd known it was raining, and he'd known beforehand of his hyperacusis condition, known of his rain phonophobia. Closure not yet fully achieved will do not-so-funny things to your not-so-clarity. Plus, his first mistake was stepping out on the balcony in the rain in the first place. One reason the sound was so annoying was that it disrupted his thought process. He couldn't hold on to a single image but the sound would shatter it. He couldn't read a book, but he would have to re-read the same damn line over and over again, because of the sound's effects. He had felt like walking in the rain, because he had felt a mild sadness at the end of something that had been good, despite that it was no longer and had been no longer, without either of them consciously realizing it, for quite some time., and he had determined that by damn he would walk in the rain, his phonophobia not withstanding. Not the least of their problems had, in fact, been his hypersensitivity to certain sounds, which prevented them from eating and sleeping together, for example; and perhaps that was another reason he had decided to task his willpower and go out walking in the rain. Had it remained raining at the steady but light rate, he might have been able to tough it out. But once he had gotten out in the rain, it had begun to rain harder, and soon in the chaotic, discontiguous mind-state of the rain-driven insanity, he had gotten lost, and who knows what else. | |
| Elizabeth sank to the floor of her bedroom, phone gripped in her hand. She had done this. It was her fault. She had left him and now he was in the hospital and it was all her fault. She should have known of his unstability, they had been together for a year and a half, for goodness sake. You'd think in all that time she would have seen it. Well, it couldn't be helped now. He was there and he wasn't getting out any time soon she was told. He'd been fired when he missed work for the third day in a row. Apparently he hadn't done anything in the three days they'd been appart except go to his psychiatrist. She knew she'd have to go see him. She dreaded it. Did he hate her now? There had been reason's for their separation of course. That too had been her fault. But really, when she slept with his bestfirend neither one of them had thought about him. They were drunk and, well, it just happened. She'd never meant to hurt him though. She cared for him, but from the moment she had been with the other man, she had known she couldn't go back. There was so much more than Russel Lowel could offer. His friend, Jon, had more money, a better job, and was a lot better in bed too. She couldn't go back to just mediocre, not after she'd had him. Jon. She loved his name, she loved to picture him in her mind, she loved to just listen to his voice, she loved the feel of him against her, she loved everything about him. That's not to say that she stopped loving Russel imediately, she still loved him, but it wasn't the same. That was why she'd had to break it off with him. And now look. She'd known he had been devastated, you could see that by looking in his eyes, but she hadn't known it would come to this. And now she had to go to him, there was no way out of it. But oh how she dreaded it. | |
| How could she face him. It was almost funny how much better Jon was. How she wished she could see him. All she could think about was Jon. Being with him. No she had to stop thinking that way. She was going to go visit Russel. Make things right again....Jon...."No stop it" she thought to herself. | |
| Jon was no longer with her. He had a new girl, one who would give him everything he wanted, even the kinky stuff. | |
| His spaghetti was already kinky - she could do nothing with that. So she waited | |
| and watched...now that IS kinky! | |
| As the light friends swim through the musty air, they catch on my face they catch on my hair, their laughter is mocking and their faces are taught, but did you all know tis blood they all saught. | |
| I ran and ran until I could run no more. They were still chasing me I was scared like a dog, I climbed a tree. I could still feel their bloodhungry bodies right behind me. I just held my breath and closed my eyes. | |
| In the distance I heard the familiar chimes of an ice cream truck. Salvation was at my door if I could only think clearly. Digging into the pocket of my jeans I found a couple of bucks. "If I treat you all to a dreamcicle will you bugger off? I queried. | |
| I gave them the ice cream. What am I supposed to do know?I asked myself. They just stood there and did not move and just stared at me blankly. | |
| I said that I wanted triple chocolate fudge! Not rasberry ripple! They both began to cry at the same time. | |
| Hush you two...Beggars can't be choosers, I replied. If you don't settle down the I'll get you a popsicle to share. | |
| And that reminds me of a wise old saying: "A popsicle is like a beautiful woman. First you look her up and down, seeing if her flavor is to your liking. . . if you know what I mean! Second, you take off her wrapper. . . if you know what I mean! Then, you grab a hold of both her sticks. . . if you know what I mean! And then, you press her up against the counter until she breaks!" Hey. HEY! Settle down you two, it was only a joke! | |
| They sneered back at me with disbelief. "Was that supossed to be funny?" the taller one asked. "We are the rage of all women condensed to the point of explosion", screamed the other. I scurried higher in the branches, hiding my face among the maple leaves. Down below I heard them whisper, "Go get the chainsaw". | |
| What I said next I said because I was giddy, for whatever reason, was it the thin air, the work of having climbed to where I was so high in the tree, was it because of the situation, I felt I was in a dream. "You think this will change anything," I asked them, "nothing will change when you kill me. By piling your rage on me you only allow your own opressors to continue unhindered." | |
| "Oh but you're wrong" the taller one spoke. "We honour our foremothers by ridding the planet of another perpetrator of matricide" The softspoken one began mumbling something that I could scarcely hear. Leaning from my perch to try and make out what she was saying, my feet slid. Dangling in mid-air, I understood her words...."Squeaky,Sara Jane,Patricia, Aileen....this one's for you" How long could I hold on? | |
| Then suddenly as from nowhere, a sharp pointy arrow flew through the air. It peirced the taller ones liver, and then I felt my self began to slip. | |
| I fell hitting the ground with a graceful thud. She lay on her side among the tall grasses. Stains of blood and bile soaked her levis, the quiet one was crying softly. A thousand thoughts raced through my head, should I flee or stay and give comfort to this poor soul. I loosened her belt and ripped off my shirt using it to put pressure on the gaping wound. A gurgling sound came from her throat, she was trying to speak. "mobile....backpack....over there" | |
| I looked to where her eyes directed me and saw a tattered backpack. A mobile phone? Is that what she meant? My fingers fumbled to open the zipper and I found the alleged cell phone. To my dismay, it was unresponsive. Opening the battery pack, I found that they were all corroded. How would I get us out of this? "It won't work," I told her desperately, panicking as I surveyed the situation. The blood was everywhere! How could I do anything about this? I was just a kid! | |
| I heard voices...was it a hallucination? The yip-yip of a bluetick hound brought reality into view. On the other side of the tree I saw two orange caps emerging from the cornfield. One of the men was cussing, something about he knew he had wounded it, where was that confounded buck. Without thinking I screamed "Over here....she needs help!" Then it was clear, it was bow season and I was standing face to face with the man who had mortally wounded her. | |
| "Russel? Russel, wake up." Russel heard the voice through his dreaming mind, through the nightmare. It was her voice. Elizabeth. She'd changed her mind after all, she didn't mean to kill the buck, and she understood why he'd had to shoot the tall one. What on earth was he talking about. His dream and reality were all mixing together. He needed to wake up. Sluggishly he sat up in bed. He opened his left eye a crack. So it was real. She was here. His angel. "Russel." she said sadly. "Oh Russel, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen." She stopped there. Not able to speak anymore through her tears. Now he remebered. Not HIS angel anymore. No, now she was someone elses. Jon's. His bestfriend's. His angel wasn't his and his bestfriend was now an exbestfriend and he was here in the mental institution. Yes. He remembered everything now.How he wished he could just keep dreaming. But he couldn't. Because SHE was here. Angel. Even if she wasn't his. And she was crying. He opened his eyes the rest of the way and looked at her. She couldn't even look him in the eye. She just stood there staring at his hand that had unconciously reached out and covered hers. "Sorry." he said and jerked it back. "No. I'm sorry. Really. I never meant for any of this to happen. I really do care about you. I didn't know you'd take it so hard. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." she began sobbing again. Russel hated to see her cry, but as much as he hated to see her hurt, he couldn't bring himself to comfort her, his own pain was to strong, to much. The cold hard reality was tearing him apart, she had cheated on him. | |
| Russel wrestled with the wringled bedsheets. Angel flew into a rage at Russels rustling. | |
| Suddenly, Powdered Toast Man burst onto the scene. He proclaimed, "Angel, stop your bitching. Russel does what he does because that what he does, and that's what he's into, so let him do his thing... and eat more powdered toast." | |
| Getting up from the ground, he saw the pile of toast dust before him and tried to find the moisture enough in his hungover pallette to even countanance the eating of the only solid food he'd seen in days. How on earth did I get here after my aunt's tea party? What happened to my Tux? - he thought, looking at the colour of the rags he had on . They might have been black once,he supposed. No sign of powdered toast man, but he could have sworn that little cartoon characters flitting in colour around the otherwise dark room. The low roar of traffic was coming through the curtained window. The sound of night and city. He found his watch, glowing the time. Late. Found the door, the stairs and with the breeze moving through his clothes he flew off into the night. | |
| Leaving Angel behind for the stars His shrink layed back into his leather chair and there was a long pause while he cleaned his wirerimmed glasses, eyebrows raised over an expression he didn't want his client to see. So much damage.And now he'd lost his girlfriend to the inevitable competition. Jesus, the guy was in arrears anyway.Why is it that when a client has an emergency he's least likely to afford the help he needs. Hence the overtime and the deepening frowns on this brow as one tries again to puzzle out the knots in another's head. Ohshitohshit oh shitsoh. The smell of books, yea and that voice. And then it all just came back; Jon. The fucker. Bad timing too, true to form. Just trying to picture them.... He probably took her to Barnardo's too before they strolled off my horizon into his apartment for java and his latest smoochy CD. Not that he would have even needed it after the fine plonk mixed with those stories about backpacking around the Med told in his baritone. The story unfolded with the deliberate slowness of an accident, a crash and burn into a taboo reality,something that never should have been. Never. And here it was. Unquenchable inexorable and the loudest thing in his ears. The Shrinks hypnosis had been all the more effective fuelled by his sheer drive to escape the nothingness after the tone on her answerphone. | |
| you are nothing more than a dirty little person with a little small mind !!!!!!!!!!! I think if you want to express your self do it some were little kids wont see you sick jerk!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | |
| You are nothing more than a dirty little person with a little small mind !!!!!!!!!!! I think if you want to express your self do it some were little kids wont see you sick jerk!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | |
| After much thought russel decied that he did want his angel back! He would for give her and when he gets her back he will never, NEVER!!! let her hurt him aging!!! | |
| After much thought russel decied that he did want his angel back! He would for give her and when he gets her back he will never, NEVER!!! let her hurt him agin!!! | |
| He wondered many times why she was gone in the evenings so often. But the thought of her being with another man was inpossible, he thought. She loved him. He new it. But why was she then with his best friend Bert??? poor porr russel. He loved his "angel" with all his heart and she didnīt care. Well Russel had a plan. He was going to kidnapp her and never let her hurt him again. NEVER NEVER!!!! | |
| No wonder she left him. He was not very good at spelling. Perhaps she wanted somebody who fill out a marriage license by himself. Or maybe... | |
| She wanted a robot instead of a human, so what if he could not spell very well. He could have changed, I am sure he would have for her. He loved her so much, yet all she could do was dump him. It broke his heart, what would he do know? | |
| He aburptly left the house, swinging his arms up and down, and calling out WARNING, WARNING, DANGER NEIGHBORS THE LADY IN THIS HOUSE IS ILLITERATE. WARNING, WARNING DANGER! | |
| As he left the house arms flailing, he spotted the Litteracy Police conducting a reading trap just down the street. As the man approached the police calling out WARNING, DANGER, THE LADY IN THIS HOUSE IS ILLITERATE!, the Litteracy Police immediately cited the man for yelling in all caps. | |
| The man decided to go to the literacy FBI to cite the Litteracy Police for spelling their name wrong. The FBI happened to have the Litteracy Police on the most wanted list because they actually are fraudulent police who are teaching everyone to spell wrong. The man was rewarded with an honorary title of Cool Guy of the Year. And everyone lived happily ever after. | |
| Except for | |
| Elizabeth. By this time she had had just about enough of Russell and Jon and certainly the shrink. Sitting alone in her unheated garret, she glanced through the unsolicited bulk business mail her postie had left. What caught her eye was a fundraising appeal from the Maryknoll sisters. She had always wanted to join the Peace Corps but when she had thought about applying she knew she would never be accepted with a felony on her record. But here was something she could do, the Sisters would be forgiving and they would realize how much she had changed. The possibilities were endless....Bolivia, Gabon, Bangaladesh...she could go and save those children one always sees on late night TV. The gaunt youths with the engorged stomachs and flies on their faces. Tomorrow she would call the convent, maybe they would have a use for a lapsed Catholic with a knack for spelling. | |
| but if they didn't we would all have to become war veterans. | |
| but if they didn't we would all have to become war veterans. You see all of her life she wanted to be a fighter pilot. | |
| Who would have thought.. A FIGHTER PILOT. As a child she was dainty little girl, never play in mud and definitely not with airplanes. She was now working on becoming one. Would she ever be one? | |
| She didn't know how any of the things worked, and how the came together, but now, with the help of her friend, Jay, she was learning everything she needed to become a pilot. First she learned how to fly. She was a fast learner, and she was quickly in the air by herself. She next needed to learn about the engine and what to do if disaster struck. She wasn't as fast to learn about this, but she was soon taking apart the engine, and putting it back together, with a little help! | |
| Elizabeth loved that twin engined Cessna. When she was airborne she felt just like Penny on Sky King, a favorite program when she was a youngster. She and Jay would take weekend hops up to Pittsburgh to see the Pirates play and once they went all the way to Tijuana for a chile rellano and a jai-alai game. But there must be more to life she thought, more than this self-gratifying hedonism. Being a fighter pilot really wasn't her cup of tea but maybe she could be a rescue pilot, saving sailors lost at sea. That was it, she would follow long-distance yacht races and wait for some poor gentleman sailor to capsize. Then she would toss out a rope and wait for the handsome, rugged yachtsman to climb aboard her aircraft. He would reward her with affection and money and she would be set for life. But what about Jay, she worried. He wouldn't think much of her plan. But who needed Jay, he was just a dime a dozen Air Florida pilot. Besides, he probably wouldn't be around for long. She would have to take off on this endeavor alone. She packed a duffle with a change of clothes, some granola and chocolate. Maybe she should bring a thermos of coffee, and a jug of water. Those sailors might be thirsty after their ordeal. With a tube of suncreen, a couple extra cans of fuel and her airplane tools she set off. But where do you find a yacht race she thought. The last lost sailors she remembered had capsized somewhere near Australia. That's where she would head then. She could stop when she got to Perth and wait for news of approaching seamen. Then when they were close she would take off towards the fourtieth parallel and hover. | |