Joe and Karen
05-03-2011, 11:01 AM
(The title of this unfinished short story is "Blood is Blood". This is all I have written so far. I think I know where I am going, but I am not sure yet. I reserve the right to edit as I read this again--so some things may change. I probably posted it preemptively, but I am new here and I could not withhold my curiosity. Criticism welcome please.)
Blood is Blood
1955
The place, the sky, the world; and indeed, the universe; all these things that were once perceived by the old stained visage of John Williams Fane were now and hence forever blotted from this place called existence. His frame slouched gaunt and ghostlike in the corner of the dark room on a rocking chair that still in fact rocked as though the chair itself were more living than the thing that sat upon it.
The house in which he had died in was not really a house, but was merely the seed of a house that had never sprouted because it lacked the resources required of if for growth. There was but one single room out of which grew a hallway that ceased abruptly and led to nothing but a large gray tarpaulin (which was designed to keep the bugs and critters out but never really did). The single room was suppose to be the dinning room or the library and the hallway was suppose to lead to the living room or the kitchen, but it instead served as the house entire, with a rust-stained cot in one corner, a wood stove in the other (upon which he did all of his cooking and was even still cooking after his death, for the wood was still burning and the oatmeal was still simmering), an oak desk under the window by the front door, and a wooden rocking chair which sat in the last corner of the dark room behind the desk. The floor of the house was composed of rotted wood two-by-fours The walls were thin cedar shingles and were filled between with aged and decomposing newspapers which smelled of rot and mold. The roof laid flat and moss-grown and sinking. Each wall could be reached in five large steps and from the outside it looked like an abandoned children’s fort.
If it were not his birthday he would have most likely been covered in ants and chewed on by coyotes and dragged out into the deep woods and never be found. But because on this day ninety years ago his mother not only gave birth to him but wrote down the date as well—the correct date too—and because that date had been written on a calendar that had been copied down thereafter his body might be saved.
***
“Gawd, I bet you think that this road is tearing up the chasis,” said a smiling Chuck in the drivers seat. “Do you think so Will?”
“I don’t know Chuck, I don’t know anything about cars,” said Will, slouching in the back seat behind his uncle.
“I bet you think it’s probably messing up those tires too, huh?”
“I don’t know.”
“In fact, I bet you probably think that my engines getting over heated too don’t ya?”
“Maybe Chuck, I don’t know anything about cars. I already told you that.”
“Nothin about cars? Well why the Hell not.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know much do ya.”
“I guess not Chuck.”
“What was that? You need to speak up boy, I can’t hear you on account of this radio in here? Do you like the sound of that radio Will. It sure does make a sweet sound. Its got all kinds of different stations from all over Washington state, even as far down as Oregon and California probably.”
“All I hear is static.”
“What was that?”
“ All I hear is static. I don’t hear any music.”
“Oh…well…that’s because were up in the God forbid back country boy, don’t you know that we cant get any music up here in this valley? Don’t you know that the signals bounce off everything? Nope, you can’t get nothing up here,” Chuck said, wiping his nose with a handkerchief from the front pocket on his shirt. “Nothing but a damn cold that is. Hand me that cloth there honey, this ones about used up?”
“Well, this is the last one,” Morrice said as she handed a new cloth to her husband. “Are we almost there yet, it seems like we’ve been on this road forever.”
“Yeah, well, I think were almost there. Just a few minutes. I think.”
“Are you doing okay honey,” Morrice said as she turned in her seat, facing Will.
“Yeah, I’m doing just fine. Thank you,” said Will.
“Are you excited to see your grandpa now? Or great Uncle? Or cousin? Well, I don’t really know what he is. Do you Chuck?
“Well, he was Mammy’s third cousin on her mothers side. Or was it her fathers? Well, maybe he wasn’t a cousin exactly but an uncle of some sort or another. Yeah, an uncle. Or a cousin. Mama never really was clear on that kind of stuff. But blood is blood, as the old timers say.”
“Well, whatever he is, I sure am excited to meet him. I have heard so many strange and wonderful things. He doesn’t have a phone, or electricity, or a TV. All he’s got is an old pick-up truck. He’s living like it was the 1500’s or something,” said a laughing Morrice.
“You’ve never met him before?” Asked Will.
“Oh, heavens no. Chuck hasn’t seen him for…how long has it been Chuck?”
“Well,” said Chuck, “the last time I saw him I think I was twelve…or fifteen…
well anyways it was a really long time ago. He would come into town one day and leave the next. He carried his belongings in a blanket wrapped around a stick. God’s honest truth. He was quite a character that old man.”
“No he never,” said Morrice as she slapped Chuck and laughed. “Why that’s too much. He’s like a cartoon character or something. My God.”
“I swear it’s the honest to Gods truth, Hon. Didn’t you ma ever tell you that
Will?”
“Nope,” Will said.
“What was that?” Asked Chuck, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Nope. Mother never told me anything about the family.”
“Well, I loved your mother to death Will, you know that. Loved her to death. But she never seemed to want to see the family. No siree. It was like she thought she was better than us. God’s honest truth.”
“Chuck!” Said Morrice, laughing and slapping him softly on the shoulder with a white velvet glove. “You shouldn’t talk about the boys mother like that. Not right in front of him! He didn’t mean nothing by it Will. We loved your Mama and never have thought a bad thing about her. Such a sweetheart she was.”
“It’s okay,” Will said.
“Well,” said Chuck, “like I said, I loved your mother to death but she really never did want to spend much time with family. About never even knew you were born if it weren’t for seeing your mamas name in the newspaper the day after you was born. It really is a shame. A damn shame that she turned her back on us like that. I am sorry to say so but it is. Blood is blood Will. Remember that. Nothing can break the bond of blood. Nothing. There’s no point running away from something you can’t escape from.”
“Why Chuck,” said Morrice, “why that sounds like poetry. You should write that down. Did you just make that up off the top of your head?”
“Why yes hon I did. God’s honest truth.”
“Golly you are bright. Isn’t your Uncle bright Will?”
“Sure,” said Will.
“I bet your bright too, aren’t you?” asked Morrice turning around in her seat and pushing her sun glasses to the top of her forehead.
“I guess so.”
“I bet you are. I bet you get good grades in school and ace all the tests, huh?”
“Hmm.”
“Yes. I bet you do,” said Morrice as she stared into the back seat. “I bet you do.”
As Morrice stared at Will in the backseat the car jumped forward and sent her bouncing into the roof of the car and onto the dashboard.
“Why Chuck! Your driving like a madman! All over the road you nearly killed me!” She slapped with her white velvet glove again but harder this time.
“Sorry Hon, it’s these damn potholes all over this road. Just think though, in our older car you might have been thrown out the window there.”
“Oh how dare you even say such a thing! Just thinking about such a thing makes me want to cry. Can you believe your Uncle thinking such awful things Will?”
“I don’t know,” said Will.
“Well I don’t want no more awful things said, okay Chuck.”
“All right, all right. It would just be nice if you acknowledge that this car saved your life is all.”
As if by some cruel perdition those words seemed to cull noises from the engine that sounded more like a dying animal than any cogged and oiled piece of machinery. There was a sputter and a squeal and a hiss that sent the car lurching forward and backward almost at once. Morrice grabbed at the ceiling and pressed her legs against the floor board while Chuck aimlessly and hoplessy steered the wheel this way and that while holding tightly to the bottom of his seat with his right hand. Will bounced up and down in the back. And then the car died. Right in the middle of the dirt road, it stopped, the engine no longer running.
The passengers took stock of themselves. Chuck now holding the steering wheel with both hands and his right foot floored against the break and Maurice still pressing tightly against the roof and floor of the car. Will lay spread on the bench. They were all in an awed silence.
For the first time they felt the cold air and could hear the unseen river somewhere below in the valley. The plume of dust that the car created settled and for what seemed the first time since they entered the forest some hours ago they looked beyond the glass and into the woods.
Blood is Blood
1955
The place, the sky, the world; and indeed, the universe; all these things that were once perceived by the old stained visage of John Williams Fane were now and hence forever blotted from this place called existence. His frame slouched gaunt and ghostlike in the corner of the dark room on a rocking chair that still in fact rocked as though the chair itself were more living than the thing that sat upon it.
The house in which he had died in was not really a house, but was merely the seed of a house that had never sprouted because it lacked the resources required of if for growth. There was but one single room out of which grew a hallway that ceased abruptly and led to nothing but a large gray tarpaulin (which was designed to keep the bugs and critters out but never really did). The single room was suppose to be the dinning room or the library and the hallway was suppose to lead to the living room or the kitchen, but it instead served as the house entire, with a rust-stained cot in one corner, a wood stove in the other (upon which he did all of his cooking and was even still cooking after his death, for the wood was still burning and the oatmeal was still simmering), an oak desk under the window by the front door, and a wooden rocking chair which sat in the last corner of the dark room behind the desk. The floor of the house was composed of rotted wood two-by-fours The walls were thin cedar shingles and were filled between with aged and decomposing newspapers which smelled of rot and mold. The roof laid flat and moss-grown and sinking. Each wall could be reached in five large steps and from the outside it looked like an abandoned children’s fort.
If it were not his birthday he would have most likely been covered in ants and chewed on by coyotes and dragged out into the deep woods and never be found. But because on this day ninety years ago his mother not only gave birth to him but wrote down the date as well—the correct date too—and because that date had been written on a calendar that had been copied down thereafter his body might be saved.
***
“Gawd, I bet you think that this road is tearing up the chasis,” said a smiling Chuck in the drivers seat. “Do you think so Will?”
“I don’t know Chuck, I don’t know anything about cars,” said Will, slouching in the back seat behind his uncle.
“I bet you think it’s probably messing up those tires too, huh?”
“I don’t know.”
“In fact, I bet you probably think that my engines getting over heated too don’t ya?”
“Maybe Chuck, I don’t know anything about cars. I already told you that.”
“Nothin about cars? Well why the Hell not.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know much do ya.”
“I guess not Chuck.”
“What was that? You need to speak up boy, I can’t hear you on account of this radio in here? Do you like the sound of that radio Will. It sure does make a sweet sound. Its got all kinds of different stations from all over Washington state, even as far down as Oregon and California probably.”
“All I hear is static.”
“What was that?”
“ All I hear is static. I don’t hear any music.”
“Oh…well…that’s because were up in the God forbid back country boy, don’t you know that we cant get any music up here in this valley? Don’t you know that the signals bounce off everything? Nope, you can’t get nothing up here,” Chuck said, wiping his nose with a handkerchief from the front pocket on his shirt. “Nothing but a damn cold that is. Hand me that cloth there honey, this ones about used up?”
“Well, this is the last one,” Morrice said as she handed a new cloth to her husband. “Are we almost there yet, it seems like we’ve been on this road forever.”
“Yeah, well, I think were almost there. Just a few minutes. I think.”
“Are you doing okay honey,” Morrice said as she turned in her seat, facing Will.
“Yeah, I’m doing just fine. Thank you,” said Will.
“Are you excited to see your grandpa now? Or great Uncle? Or cousin? Well, I don’t really know what he is. Do you Chuck?
“Well, he was Mammy’s third cousin on her mothers side. Or was it her fathers? Well, maybe he wasn’t a cousin exactly but an uncle of some sort or another. Yeah, an uncle. Or a cousin. Mama never really was clear on that kind of stuff. But blood is blood, as the old timers say.”
“Well, whatever he is, I sure am excited to meet him. I have heard so many strange and wonderful things. He doesn’t have a phone, or electricity, or a TV. All he’s got is an old pick-up truck. He’s living like it was the 1500’s or something,” said a laughing Morrice.
“You’ve never met him before?” Asked Will.
“Oh, heavens no. Chuck hasn’t seen him for…how long has it been Chuck?”
“Well,” said Chuck, “the last time I saw him I think I was twelve…or fifteen…
well anyways it was a really long time ago. He would come into town one day and leave the next. He carried his belongings in a blanket wrapped around a stick. God’s honest truth. He was quite a character that old man.”
“No he never,” said Morrice as she slapped Chuck and laughed. “Why that’s too much. He’s like a cartoon character or something. My God.”
“I swear it’s the honest to Gods truth, Hon. Didn’t you ma ever tell you that
Will?”
“Nope,” Will said.
“What was that?” Asked Chuck, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Nope. Mother never told me anything about the family.”
“Well, I loved your mother to death Will, you know that. Loved her to death. But she never seemed to want to see the family. No siree. It was like she thought she was better than us. God’s honest truth.”
“Chuck!” Said Morrice, laughing and slapping him softly on the shoulder with a white velvet glove. “You shouldn’t talk about the boys mother like that. Not right in front of him! He didn’t mean nothing by it Will. We loved your Mama and never have thought a bad thing about her. Such a sweetheart she was.”
“It’s okay,” Will said.
“Well,” said Chuck, “like I said, I loved your mother to death but she really never did want to spend much time with family. About never even knew you were born if it weren’t for seeing your mamas name in the newspaper the day after you was born. It really is a shame. A damn shame that she turned her back on us like that. I am sorry to say so but it is. Blood is blood Will. Remember that. Nothing can break the bond of blood. Nothing. There’s no point running away from something you can’t escape from.”
“Why Chuck,” said Morrice, “why that sounds like poetry. You should write that down. Did you just make that up off the top of your head?”
“Why yes hon I did. God’s honest truth.”
“Golly you are bright. Isn’t your Uncle bright Will?”
“Sure,” said Will.
“I bet your bright too, aren’t you?” asked Morrice turning around in her seat and pushing her sun glasses to the top of her forehead.
“I guess so.”
“I bet you are. I bet you get good grades in school and ace all the tests, huh?”
“Hmm.”
“Yes. I bet you do,” said Morrice as she stared into the back seat. “I bet you do.”
As Morrice stared at Will in the backseat the car jumped forward and sent her bouncing into the roof of the car and onto the dashboard.
“Why Chuck! Your driving like a madman! All over the road you nearly killed me!” She slapped with her white velvet glove again but harder this time.
“Sorry Hon, it’s these damn potholes all over this road. Just think though, in our older car you might have been thrown out the window there.”
“Oh how dare you even say such a thing! Just thinking about such a thing makes me want to cry. Can you believe your Uncle thinking such awful things Will?”
“I don’t know,” said Will.
“Well I don’t want no more awful things said, okay Chuck.”
“All right, all right. It would just be nice if you acknowledge that this car saved your life is all.”
As if by some cruel perdition those words seemed to cull noises from the engine that sounded more like a dying animal than any cogged and oiled piece of machinery. There was a sputter and a squeal and a hiss that sent the car lurching forward and backward almost at once. Morrice grabbed at the ceiling and pressed her legs against the floor board while Chuck aimlessly and hoplessy steered the wheel this way and that while holding tightly to the bottom of his seat with his right hand. Will bounced up and down in the back. And then the car died. Right in the middle of the dirt road, it stopped, the engine no longer running.
The passengers took stock of themselves. Chuck now holding the steering wheel with both hands and his right foot floored against the break and Maurice still pressing tightly against the roof and floor of the car. Will lay spread on the bench. They were all in an awed silence.
For the first time they felt the cold air and could hear the unseen river somewhere below in the valley. The plume of dust that the car created settled and for what seemed the first time since they entered the forest some hours ago they looked beyond the glass and into the woods.