Lucy's mother sat on a bench in a sad little greenhouse, texting her beloved daughter.
After typing everything she could think of in one long epic apology text, she put her phone in her pocket and folded her hands.
Every thirty seconds thereafter she would think of something else to say, pull out her cell phone, and send Lucy another quick text.
Finally satiated with her sorry, she lifted her eyes towards the Greenhouse door, looking past her other daughter, her son, her grandchildren, into the wild blue yonder.
Backlit by bright sunshine, a human shape appeared in her field of vision, coming through the double doors like a breath of fresh air.
Her husband.
They would celebrate 35 years together in September.
He walked directly towards her, across the tropics, and with each step his bright smile faded a little more until he was upon her with a worried, downcast haze.
She looked up at him.
He sat down.
She reached out for his hand.
"She knows about California," she said.
He sighed.
"Where is she?" he said.
"I don't know."
After a long pause punctuated by a flat train engine choo chooing above their heads, she spoke again.
"She wants to be so independent," she said, close to tears.
"You worry about her too much," he said, looking at her for a nanosecond, squeezing her hand forever.
She looked back at him.
"Hello kettle," she said. "I'm pot."
They both smiled, and sighed, and stopped smiling.
They held hands for the longest time, gazing out those greenhouse doors at the world who wanted their daughter.
They wanted her first.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Chapter 45
Manager's cell phone twerped, and he, still mulling over the problem of the gobsmacked audience and his capricious country star, absentmindedly plucked it from his pocket.
As he began to read the Google alert flicking across the screen, his eyes widened, bigger and bigger until his face looked like he'd just pooped worms.
A YouTube video just posted of Jay's rogue pop/jazz/crooner (re: decidedly anti-country) ballad had already raked in three and a half million views.
"What is it?" Jay asked, not caring. His deflated heart was quietly exploding all over the St. Augustine underneath his blue jean-ed bum.
"Nothing." Manager was in full on methamphetamine mode. "Let's go."
He flipped Jay's discarded cowboy hat off the ground with his boot, catching it midair and brushing off the dust in one fast left-handed motion, and grabbing Jay by the ear with his other hand.
Jay winced but stood anyway.
Manager smacked him in the belly with his own hat.
"Come on, Walker, get it together," he said.
Jay put on his hat.
They were headed to a post-concert press briefing at the Monster Truck display, where Jay would be photographed driving a Chevrolet.
Promotional consideration.
As he began to read the Google alert flicking across the screen, his eyes widened, bigger and bigger until his face looked like he'd just pooped worms.
A YouTube video just posted of Jay's rogue pop/jazz/crooner (re: decidedly anti-country) ballad had already raked in three and a half million views.
"What is it?" Jay asked, not caring. His deflated heart was quietly exploding all over the St. Augustine underneath his blue jean-ed bum.
"Nothing." Manager was in full on methamphetamine mode. "Let's go."
He flipped Jay's discarded cowboy hat off the ground with his boot, catching it midair and brushing off the dust in one fast left-handed motion, and grabbing Jay by the ear with his other hand.
Jay winced but stood anyway.
Manager smacked him in the belly with his own hat.
"Come on, Walker, get it together," he said.
Jay put on his hat.
They were headed to a post-concert press briefing at the Monster Truck display, where Jay would be photographed driving a Chevrolet.
Promotional consideration.
Friday, September 12, 2014
Chapter 44
Jay frantically searched high and low for Lucy, eventually making his way into an empty circus striped puppet tent. His manager sat on the only chair, in the center of the room, hands folded on his knee, calmly watching Jay.
Jay exploded.
"Did you see the girl? Where is she?"
After a long 15 second pause, the manager calmly looked into Jay's frantic eyes.
"What exactly was that?" he asked, his anger threatening to boil.
Jay, already almost through the curtain on his way out, turned to look. He held onto the striped tent flap with his left hand.
"Did you know your record deal could be gone faster than these people fry beer? And what would your father think of you then?" The manager childed Jay like a child.
Jay let the flap fall, his hand tucking into his pocket.
He stared at stripes for a long time. Finally turning to face his music, he closed his eyes.
"How are we going to fix this with your fans?" his manager said, shaking his head.
Jay opened his eyes.
Jay exploded.
"Did you see the girl? Where is she?"
After a long 15 second pause, the manager calmly looked into Jay's frantic eyes.
"What exactly was that?" he asked, his anger threatening to boil.
Jay, already almost through the curtain on his way out, turned to look. He held onto the striped tent flap with his left hand.
"Did you know your record deal could be gone faster than these people fry beer? And what would your father think of you then?" The manager childed Jay like a child.
Jay let the flap fall, his hand tucking into his pocket.
He stared at stripes for a long time. Finally turning to face his music, he closed his eyes.
"How are we going to fix this with your fans?" his manager said, shaking his head.
Jay opened his eyes.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Chapter 43
Lucy found herself in a musty port-o-potty with two very large humans.
After what seemed like an eternity of adjustment, Lucy's eyes began to flex their muscles, allowing her to see gradually after being thrust from the bright sunlight into an unsanitary and crowded plastic water closet.
When her pupils focused on the two gruff faces towering near the ceiling, she wished she was blind.
Their angry, rough, exceptionally threatening countenances peered down on in with distorted depth perception so that their heads looked even larger than they were, which already were quite large, having actually been appointed to their positions because of their size.
Lucy felt very, very small. She almost lost her knee strength, beginning to sink down away, away, from doom.
A slight rustle from a fecal-feasting animal down below her buttocks stopped her descent in its tracks.
She bolted upright, accidentally bumping bellies with her captors.
They didn't speak for ages.
Having been instructed by Jay's manager to keep her quiet for as long as possible before letting her go, they merely stood and stared at her, watching her lips and eyes quiver like flibbertigibbets.
Five fearful minutes later they issued her an ultimatum.
She must never look Jay in the face again, or she would end up below the port-o-potty, instead of in it.
And he must never see her again, either.
Not ever.
The men left the john.
Lucy sat down and cried.
After what seemed like an eternity of adjustment, Lucy's eyes began to flex their muscles, allowing her to see gradually after being thrust from the bright sunlight into an unsanitary and crowded plastic water closet.
When her pupils focused on the two gruff faces towering near the ceiling, she wished she was blind.
Their angry, rough, exceptionally threatening countenances peered down on in with distorted depth perception so that their heads looked even larger than they were, which already were quite large, having actually been appointed to their positions because of their size.
Lucy felt very, very small. She almost lost her knee strength, beginning to sink down away, away, from doom.
A slight rustle from a fecal-feasting animal down below her buttocks stopped her descent in its tracks.
She bolted upright, accidentally bumping bellies with her captors.
They didn't speak for ages.
Having been instructed by Jay's manager to keep her quiet for as long as possible before letting her go, they merely stood and stared at her, watching her lips and eyes quiver like flibbertigibbets.
Five fearful minutes later they issued her an ultimatum.
She must never look Jay in the face again, or she would end up below the port-o-potty, instead of in it.
And he must never see her again, either.
Not ever.
The men left the john.
Lucy sat down and cried.
Chapter 42
Lucy's pause, reflected in an entire audience, meandered over to Jay's manager, who'd been on his cell phone again.
With fire eyes cooled by a completely numb tongue, Manager took off his glasses, staring at Jay's profile.
Jay's band stood stalwart, too, open-mouthed and exceedingly confused.
From out of Jay's mouth came a melody not even remotely country. If music genres were politics, this brand new tune was decidedly partisan, and moreover was antithetically non-country and western.
His words dripped, agave nectar flow, sweet acoustic guitar strings plinking almost like a harp.
The crowd ceased everything: breathing, laughing, cheering, screaming, smiling, swooning. They stood like cocknied zombies, half buzzed on fried beer and fully confused at the un-boot-scootable-tune somehow being broadcast to their ears on Texas air space.
Lucy was the only one who eventually cracked a smile. It crept into her ears first, and then her heart. One side of her mouth began to flick itself slowly nearer to her nose, trying to fly.
Near the end of the song, Jay spotted her, a beacon of pink light at the end of a tunnel of dull dirt-colored darkness. Backlit by sun and front light by a beaming half smile, Jay fell even more in love with her. His lovesick, forlorn intonation suddenly flipped upwards to fulfillment.
Smiling through the last phrase and delightfully striking the final notes, Jay left his guitar on stage and bolted, straight forward, across the barrier, flinging his cowboy hat into the crushed and quiet crowd, directly toward Lucy's glowing light.
Suddenly a shadow passed in front of her, a small crowd of intoxicated and rather large Texans. Jay sidestepped to duck around them, eager to hold her in his arms.
But when he emerged from its edge, she was gone.
She was very gone.
With fire eyes cooled by a completely numb tongue, Manager took off his glasses, staring at Jay's profile.
Jay's band stood stalwart, too, open-mouthed and exceedingly confused.
From out of Jay's mouth came a melody not even remotely country. If music genres were politics, this brand new tune was decidedly partisan, and moreover was antithetically non-country and western.
His words dripped, agave nectar flow, sweet acoustic guitar strings plinking almost like a harp.
The crowd ceased everything: breathing, laughing, cheering, screaming, smiling, swooning. They stood like cocknied zombies, half buzzed on fried beer and fully confused at the un-boot-scootable-tune somehow being broadcast to their ears on Texas air space.
Lucy was the only one who eventually cracked a smile. It crept into her ears first, and then her heart. One side of her mouth began to flick itself slowly nearer to her nose, trying to fly.
Near the end of the song, Jay spotted her, a beacon of pink light at the end of a tunnel of dull dirt-colored darkness. Backlit by sun and front light by a beaming half smile, Jay fell even more in love with her. His lovesick, forlorn intonation suddenly flipped upwards to fulfillment.
Smiling through the last phrase and delightfully striking the final notes, Jay left his guitar on stage and bolted, straight forward, across the barrier, flinging his cowboy hat into the crushed and quiet crowd, directly toward Lucy's glowing light.
Suddenly a shadow passed in front of her, a small crowd of intoxicated and rather large Texans. Jay sidestepped to duck around them, eager to hold her in his arms.
But when he emerged from its edge, she was gone.
She was very gone.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Chapter 41
When Lucy liberated her afternoon, she left everything except her cell phone tucked into its forgotten home in her camera bag in the stroller's nether regions.
Jay thought about her relentlessly.
Perched on the inside of a dressing room wall, he let his head fall back, closing his eyes, drowning out sounds of his manager making plans and giving commands.
His first set started in 90 seconds.
Lucy, with tears in her eyes, speed walked through the madness of the Midway, lost in her thoughts, hearing sirens and hammer blows and watching scary teenage cowboy goths carry giant monkeys over their shoulders like comrades.
Jay braced himself for a freefall.
"60 seconds," his manager directed, smashing a well-worn and highly embellished cowboy hat down upon Jay's bowed head.
Lifting his head, Jay's eyes were almost gray.
He was blue.
"You know he's never come before," his manager said. "I don't know why you'd be so upset now."
He put his arm on Jay's.
"Buck up, cowboy," he said, patting him hard. "You're on."
Jay exited a door, climbed some steps, heard cheering like the muted roar of cherry bombs in his ears, and raised an arm and a flashy smile to greet three hundred screaming fans. His legs carried him to center stage, his heart lagging behind, downtrodden.
He took his seat, and began to play.
First song in the set was a guitar heavy boot scooter, and he took solace in the fact that the outer pep distracted from his deep deep slow sadness.
He played to the crowd, ransoming his soul for a happy twenty-seven minutes.
And then.
Then he broke down.
After the final song, Jay glanced sideways at his manager, the bandmates staring hard at the back of his cowboy head.
"And now," he said into the microphone, "I'd like to play you guys a new song."
The crowd's cheer were bigger than the manager's surprised eyes: a feat, because they bugged almost to Tennessee.
"It's a little different than what I've done before," Jay continued, turning to face the crowd with a more genuine grin than he'd mustered in a while. "I hope you like it."
Jay closed his eyes, held his guitar like a lover, and began to croon, unaccompanied, about a girl on a bus in California.
Lucy, finally free from Midway madness, strolled aimlessly down International Boulevard, carried along by the early chords of a song.
The song was coming from some sort of platform. Oh, she thought, it's the Chevy Main Stage. I must be close to the turkey legs.
She remembered why as a photographer she never shot weddings. It was because she spent the entire time staring at the bride, wondering what made her so much more lovable than she.
And then there was a song in the background of her crazy mind, calling.
She began to listen.
Wait a minute, this was real.
She looked up.
There was Jay, on a stage, with a guitar, singing about a girl he saw on a bus in California.
Singing about how he loved her.
She stopped walking.
Jay thought about her relentlessly.
Perched on the inside of a dressing room wall, he let his head fall back, closing his eyes, drowning out sounds of his manager making plans and giving commands.
His first set started in 90 seconds.
Lucy, with tears in her eyes, speed walked through the madness of the Midway, lost in her thoughts, hearing sirens and hammer blows and watching scary teenage cowboy goths carry giant monkeys over their shoulders like comrades.
Jay braced himself for a freefall.
"60 seconds," his manager directed, smashing a well-worn and highly embellished cowboy hat down upon Jay's bowed head.
Lifting his head, Jay's eyes were almost gray.
He was blue.
"You know he's never come before," his manager said. "I don't know why you'd be so upset now."
He put his arm on Jay's.
"Buck up, cowboy," he said, patting him hard. "You're on."
Jay exited a door, climbed some steps, heard cheering like the muted roar of cherry bombs in his ears, and raised an arm and a flashy smile to greet three hundred screaming fans. His legs carried him to center stage, his heart lagging behind, downtrodden.
He took his seat, and began to play.
First song in the set was a guitar heavy boot scooter, and he took solace in the fact that the outer pep distracted from his deep deep slow sadness.
He played to the crowd, ransoming his soul for a happy twenty-seven minutes.
And then.
Then he broke down.
After the final song, Jay glanced sideways at his manager, the bandmates staring hard at the back of his cowboy head.
"And now," he said into the microphone, "I'd like to play you guys a new song."
The crowd's cheer were bigger than the manager's surprised eyes: a feat, because they bugged almost to Tennessee.
"It's a little different than what I've done before," Jay continued, turning to face the crowd with a more genuine grin than he'd mustered in a while. "I hope you like it."
Jay closed his eyes, held his guitar like a lover, and began to croon, unaccompanied, about a girl on a bus in California.
Lucy, finally free from Midway madness, strolled aimlessly down International Boulevard, carried along by the early chords of a song.
The song was coming from some sort of platform. Oh, she thought, it's the Chevy Main Stage. I must be close to the turkey legs.
She remembered why as a photographer she never shot weddings. It was because she spent the entire time staring at the bride, wondering what made her so much more lovable than she.
And then there was a song in the background of her crazy mind, calling.
She began to listen.
Wait a minute, this was real.
She looked up.
There was Jay, on a stage, with a guitar, singing about a girl he saw on a bus in California.
Singing about how he loved her.
She stopped walking.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Chapter 40
Lucy sat with Kristi a long time on a rotund white park bench amidst greenery in a Midway Greenhouse at the State Fair, making small talk and watching other people live their lives beneath a solar-powered train chugging effortlessly around and around and around in a never ending clockwise turn.
Kristi was in the CIA, but she couldn't talk about it.
Lucy wasn't even supposed to know.
But there they sat, surrounded by children shrieking with excitement and botanists leaning into specimens with bespectacled eyes and rounded backs.
"I miss living alone," Lucy uttered softly.
Kristi heard melancholy and, not accustomed to wading through emotional pools with others, decided to change the subject.
A thundercloud rolled by in the form of a napless baby in a vomit-covered stroller.
It was Lucy's sister-in-law, in a cloud of frustration, loudly ordering Kristi to retrieve Lucy's oldest nephew from the awning where he was hanging upside down and attempting to flip his hair back and forth.
With a shout, she was off toward the parking lot to intercept Lucy's father and pull a spare vomit-less stroller from the back of his truck. She would also hand him the baby while she took off on a mad walk to the nearest changing room with somewhat fresh clothing.
Lucy, suddenly filled with angst at the thought that she would see her father, needed to climb away. There were far too many cobwebs in her mind.
She'd never yelled at him. She'd never been angry with him. She'd never had a bone to pick with him. She'd always trusted him. WHY HAD HE FOLLOWED HER TO CALIFORNIA?
And then another, deeper, more insidious secret surfaced.
WHY DIDN'T HE TELL HER JAY WAS JUST ANOTHER STALKER?
A butterfly landed on Lucy's face, and she shrieked.
Her mother flipped a giant palm frond out of the way to see what all the ruckus was about, and the leaves smacked Lucy square in the eyes.
She was glad of it, because she had a reason for the tears.
"I'm going to go see the Budweiser horses before they're saddled up for the parade, okay Mom?" She said.
Lucy had never done her own thing at the fair before.
Every year, every time, she silently hobbled along, stuck to her family like glue, or sticking them together, or sticking it out, or whatever it had been that she'd done for twenty something years.
But now she needed to be alone, not only in her own silence, but in her own space, away from them.
On her way out, she turned back to her flabbergasted mother and shouted, "Oh, and tell Dad I know about California."
A train guffawed, and her mother's jaw fell down.
Lucy turned into the bright blue light and ran.
Someone in the bushes watched her go.
There would be trouble.
Kristi was in the CIA, but she couldn't talk about it.
Lucy wasn't even supposed to know.
But there they sat, surrounded by children shrieking with excitement and botanists leaning into specimens with bespectacled eyes and rounded backs.
"I miss living alone," Lucy uttered softly.
Kristi heard melancholy and, not accustomed to wading through emotional pools with others, decided to change the subject.
A thundercloud rolled by in the form of a napless baby in a vomit-covered stroller.
It was Lucy's sister-in-law, in a cloud of frustration, loudly ordering Kristi to retrieve Lucy's oldest nephew from the awning where he was hanging upside down and attempting to flip his hair back and forth.
With a shout, she was off toward the parking lot to intercept Lucy's father and pull a spare vomit-less stroller from the back of his truck. She would also hand him the baby while she took off on a mad walk to the nearest changing room with somewhat fresh clothing.
Lucy, suddenly filled with angst at the thought that she would see her father, needed to climb away. There were far too many cobwebs in her mind.
She'd never yelled at him. She'd never been angry with him. She'd never had a bone to pick with him. She'd always trusted him. WHY HAD HE FOLLOWED HER TO CALIFORNIA?
And then another, deeper, more insidious secret surfaced.
WHY DIDN'T HE TELL HER JAY WAS JUST ANOTHER STALKER?
A butterfly landed on Lucy's face, and she shrieked.
Her mother flipped a giant palm frond out of the way to see what all the ruckus was about, and the leaves smacked Lucy square in the eyes.
She was glad of it, because she had a reason for the tears.
"I'm going to go see the Budweiser horses before they're saddled up for the parade, okay Mom?" She said.
Lucy had never done her own thing at the fair before.
Every year, every time, she silently hobbled along, stuck to her family like glue, or sticking them together, or sticking it out, or whatever it had been that she'd done for twenty something years.
But now she needed to be alone, not only in her own silence, but in her own space, away from them.
On her way out, she turned back to her flabbergasted mother and shouted, "Oh, and tell Dad I know about California."
A train guffawed, and her mother's jaw fell down.
Lucy turned into the bright blue light and ran.
Someone in the bushes watched her go.
There would be trouble.
Monday, September 8, 2014
Chapter 39
A telephone call arrived.
Lucy and her mother were to meet the rest of the clan over in the Greenhouse, as after the corn kernel had been safely removed from Max's septum, his mom received a phone call from her best Army friend, who had just arrived at the fair to meet them and found herself lost, upon which time at the advice of her friend decided to stay put and wait for Lucy's clan to find her.
They went.
Trains and trees and ceiling and sky all in the same time.
Jungle.
Fortress.
Amusement.
Growth.
Flutters.
Leaves.
Birds.
Air.
Lucy felt her blood pressure sinking, and she breathed deeply, closing her eyes against the chaos.
Green.
Lucy and her mother were to meet the rest of the clan over in the Greenhouse, as after the corn kernel had been safely removed from Max's septum, his mom received a phone call from her best Army friend, who had just arrived at the fair to meet them and found herself lost, upon which time at the advice of her friend decided to stay put and wait for Lucy's clan to find her.
They went.
Trains and trees and ceiling and sky all in the same time.
Jungle.
Fortress.
Amusement.
Growth.
Flutters.
Leaves.
Birds.
Air.
Lucy felt her blood pressure sinking, and she breathed deeply, closing her eyes against the chaos.
Green.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Chapter 38
She stood up.
Fire flashed in her eyes. All traces of fear were gone, suddenly replaced by anger.
She looked down on him. "In California," she said, barely a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear his mistake.
"It's not what you think," he said, jumping to his feet.
She glared at his sorry face, so apologetic, and yet, so reminiscent of Sneller's after he'd been caught.
She tucked her chin into the air, turned 180 degrees toward Dallas, and walked away.
He called her name, but knew better than to follow her.
At least in broad daylight she might be all right.
But maybe he should...
Lucy took one look back over her shoulder and saw his hand reaching out for her and his steps beginning in her direction, his eyes.
She took off running, feeling faster and yet less free than seven hours ago on that Texas dirt road.
Lucy reached for her cell phone, rummaging through an invisible purse on her shoulder for a good thirty seconds before realizing she'd left her entire existence in the bottom of her sister's stroller.
It'd always been her nightmare that she would get left behind at the fair. She always pictured herself as the child crying at the Lost Children Stand with policemen up in their turrets scouting for the laissez-faire parents who'd been too consumed with corn dogs to keep up with their children.
Finally the dream came true, but she was an adult. An alone adult. An anomale. A singleton. A lost baby in a grown woman's body. Shoot.
Her sprint to the butter exhibit over in record time, Lucy paused beside the refrigerated glass window, leaning into it to catch her breath, feeling Marilyn laughing at her backside.
She spotted her mother across the hall, looking at an intricate beaded headdress.
"Mom!" Lucy called, relieved.
"Look at that!" Reba said, cooing over a beaded saddle blanket.
Great. They didn't even know she'd been gone.
"Where is everyone?" Lucy asked.
"Oh, Max stuck a piece of corn up his nose at the cooking demonstration," she replied. "So they went over to the dairy exhibit's nursing station. They have needle nose tweezers."
So matter of fact.
"Are you ready?" she asked, glancing at Lucy.
Lucy took one last glance at the wall with her portrait on it.
If she ever saw Carlos again she would...
Wait. If she ever saw Jay again she would...
Wait.
Her dad. IN CALIFORNIA.
"Yes, I'm ready," she said.
She'd never had a bone to pick with her father before.
Here it came.
Fire flashed in her eyes. All traces of fear were gone, suddenly replaced by anger.
She looked down on him. "In California," she said, barely a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear his mistake.
"It's not what you think," he said, jumping to his feet.
She glared at his sorry face, so apologetic, and yet, so reminiscent of Sneller's after he'd been caught.
She tucked her chin into the air, turned 180 degrees toward Dallas, and walked away.
He called her name, but knew better than to follow her.
At least in broad daylight she might be all right.
But maybe he should...
Lucy took one look back over her shoulder and saw his hand reaching out for her and his steps beginning in her direction, his eyes.
She took off running, feeling faster and yet less free than seven hours ago on that Texas dirt road.
Lucy reached for her cell phone, rummaging through an invisible purse on her shoulder for a good thirty seconds before realizing she'd left her entire existence in the bottom of her sister's stroller.
It'd always been her nightmare that she would get left behind at the fair. She always pictured herself as the child crying at the Lost Children Stand with policemen up in their turrets scouting for the laissez-faire parents who'd been too consumed with corn dogs to keep up with their children.
Finally the dream came true, but she was an adult. An alone adult. An anomale. A singleton. A lost baby in a grown woman's body. Shoot.
Her sprint to the butter exhibit over in record time, Lucy paused beside the refrigerated glass window, leaning into it to catch her breath, feeling Marilyn laughing at her backside.
She spotted her mother across the hall, looking at an intricate beaded headdress.
"Mom!" Lucy called, relieved.
"Look at that!" Reba said, cooing over a beaded saddle blanket.
Great. They didn't even know she'd been gone.
"Where is everyone?" Lucy asked.
"Oh, Max stuck a piece of corn up his nose at the cooking demonstration," she replied. "So they went over to the dairy exhibit's nursing station. They have needle nose tweezers."
So matter of fact.
"Are you ready?" she asked, glancing at Lucy.
Lucy took one last glance at the wall with her portrait on it.
If she ever saw Carlos again she would...
Wait. If she ever saw Jay again she would...
Wait.
Her dad. IN CALIFORNIA.
"Yes, I'm ready," she said.
She'd never had a bone to pick with her father before.
Here it came.
Saturday, September 6, 2014
Chapter 37
"Was that Carlos?" Jay said, looking straight forward over his hands, with his elbows propped up on his splayed knees.
Lucy flinched, careening backwards into the comforting wall of the dumpster. She shrank down small. She looked over her shoulder.
"No, no, no," Jay said, letting his right hand float into the air, pressing down the tension, calming her nerves. He wanted to let it keep going to her knee, or her shoulder, or her heart, but she didn't need that right now.
She needed protecting.
"Was Carlos one of the ones who grabbed you?" he said.
She placed her wide eyes on his like high beams, eyebrows arched, and slowly shook her head, mouth pinched.
He sighed.
She sighed.
"Who were those girls chasing you?" she finally whispered.
Wanting to divert her attention from that stoic fact, he deferred.
"I thought they were after you," he said.
She looked at him.
A small smile passed through his brow. She smiled back. He smiled bigger, and his teeth came out.
They laughed it off.
Soon they were upside down, on their backs, laughing uproariously: chuckling so hard they cried, and their lungs screamed.
Birds flew across the picture perfect sky above.
"You know, your Dad told me in California this happened to you all the time, but I didn't believe him," Jay laughed.
Lucy stopped laughing.
Lucy flinched, careening backwards into the comforting wall of the dumpster. She shrank down small. She looked over her shoulder.
"No, no, no," Jay said, letting his right hand float into the air, pressing down the tension, calming her nerves. He wanted to let it keep going to her knee, or her shoulder, or her heart, but she didn't need that right now.
She needed protecting.
"Was Carlos one of the ones who grabbed you?" he said.
She placed her wide eyes on his like high beams, eyebrows arched, and slowly shook her head, mouth pinched.
He sighed.
She sighed.
"Who were those girls chasing you?" she finally whispered.
Wanting to divert her attention from that stoic fact, he deferred.
"I thought they were after you," he said.
She looked at him.
A small smile passed through his brow. She smiled back. He smiled bigger, and his teeth came out.
They laughed it off.
Soon they were upside down, on their backs, laughing uproariously: chuckling so hard they cried, and their lungs screamed.
Birds flew across the picture perfect sky above.
"You know, your Dad told me in California this happened to you all the time, but I didn't believe him," Jay laughed.
Lucy stopped laughing.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Chapter 36
Huddled behind a garbage bin in a back alley, Lucy let her back sink into the strangely comforting, smelly metal siding. All the air went out of her brain, and she closed her eyes with a sigh.
Jay took one last look over the top and then sank down beside her, holding her closed eyelids with his caress of a gaze. The air went out of him, too.
After a few moments, Lucy's knees came up to her elbows, and her chin to her hands. She looked sideways at Jay.
"What just happened?" She said, in a weary, wondering tone just above a whisper.
He looked at her. She closed her eyes, buried her brow in her elbows.
He opened his mouth to explain the rabid fan girls, but decided he better let that cat stay in the bag a while longer, at least until she was stable.
He lifted his arm to place it in a comforting loop around her shoulders. Wait.
He reckoned those guys grabbing at her in the chase and at least the one who'd taken her picture would be more than happy to seize advantage in a time like this, and he reconsidered.
Instead he stood up to peek over the dumpster lid one more time, just for reassurance.
He sighed, too.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Chapter 35
When Lucy's pink tweed clad body struck the fencing, she catapulted over the edge, holding on with all ten fingernails.
Her succinct grip upon the wire fencing lifted it quite literally out of the ground.
At first, two large pot bellied pigs stood in disbelief, suddenly face to face with a very large tortoise. And then madness struck the boars with such snarky elegance that they bellowed and charged, attempting to ram the tortoise in the 12 inch gap between fencing and floor.
These pigs, quite large and valuable for the size of their bodies and not their brains, ended up misjudging the distance and rammed each other in the face.
Quite stunned, the pigs needed a moment to regain their senses, upon which time they realized their tusks had become entangled. A few shrieks and side steps later and they were actually standing atop a giant tortoise, attempting to disentangle themselves.
Sensing danger, this tortoise made a slow and peremptory beeline for her mate, across the enclosure.
An unbalanced pig is an extraordinarily precarious thing, and these two were no exception. Lucy was still clinging to the off-kilter fence when two pigs locked in a tasmanian style swirl-off rolled off the back of the tortoise and tumbled toward her.
Jay, attempting to reach her, got his belt loop snagged on a fence post, and was rendered useless.
Her eyes grew larger as the swine approached, helter skelter, and as they struck the fence below Lucy like two three ton bowling balls, her rapid ascent and then more rapid descent through gravity was made more comical by her limbs, moving in a swimming motion, trying to gain traction midair.
She landed atop Jay, who cushioned her fall with his own body, and the help of the thick pile of sawdust and hay beneath them.
They were upright just in time to see their pursuant crowd approaching at breakneck speed.
As they began to run, shaking off sawdust with their sprints, another pot bellied pig began to scream, followed by an agonized honk.
Passing the fowled up mess of fencing, Lucy turned her head to the right one more time to see that the last tumble those two pigs had taken slammed them into the side of the goose enclosure.
There were suddenly birds in the air, flying in random formation, defecating, screaming, and colliding with derision.
In a nearby pen, the llamas and camels were so frightened by the cataclysmic events that they began to spit, launching large rancid streams into the general public, including Jay and Lucy's chasers.
This crowd, intent on catching their prey, suddenly found themselves covered in funky green grime that smelled of twice chewed dog food and week old fish. Camel spit, after all, is really chewed up cud: food regurgitated from one of the chambers of its fore-stomach.
And so, as the agitated and still entwined pot bellied pigs began to ram the goose fence, geese began to flutter into every pen in the petting zoo. Some of rapscallions within those pens took wishful chomps, and some were successful.
Children screamed, geese honked, and feathers flew until they landed upon the delightfully sticky camel spit covering most of the crowd.
When the fastest of the pack began to suffer from calamities related to goose feathers plastered over their eyeballs, the rear collided like dominoes.
And suddenly, Jay and Lucy, with one more glance behind them at the goose and sawdust cloud, realized they were in the clear.
They ran to safety.
Her succinct grip upon the wire fencing lifted it quite literally out of the ground.
At first, two large pot bellied pigs stood in disbelief, suddenly face to face with a very large tortoise. And then madness struck the boars with such snarky elegance that they bellowed and charged, attempting to ram the tortoise in the 12 inch gap between fencing and floor.
These pigs, quite large and valuable for the size of their bodies and not their brains, ended up misjudging the distance and rammed each other in the face.
Quite stunned, the pigs needed a moment to regain their senses, upon which time they realized their tusks had become entangled. A few shrieks and side steps later and they were actually standing atop a giant tortoise, attempting to disentangle themselves.
Sensing danger, this tortoise made a slow and peremptory beeline for her mate, across the enclosure.
An unbalanced pig is an extraordinarily precarious thing, and these two were no exception. Lucy was still clinging to the off-kilter fence when two pigs locked in a tasmanian style swirl-off rolled off the back of the tortoise and tumbled toward her.
Jay, attempting to reach her, got his belt loop snagged on a fence post, and was rendered useless.
Her eyes grew larger as the swine approached, helter skelter, and as they struck the fence below Lucy like two three ton bowling balls, her rapid ascent and then more rapid descent through gravity was made more comical by her limbs, moving in a swimming motion, trying to gain traction midair.
She landed atop Jay, who cushioned her fall with his own body, and the help of the thick pile of sawdust and hay beneath them.
They were upright just in time to see their pursuant crowd approaching at breakneck speed.
As they began to run, shaking off sawdust with their sprints, another pot bellied pig began to scream, followed by an agonized honk.
Passing the fowled up mess of fencing, Lucy turned her head to the right one more time to see that the last tumble those two pigs had taken slammed them into the side of the goose enclosure.
There were suddenly birds in the air, flying in random formation, defecating, screaming, and colliding with derision.
In a nearby pen, the llamas and camels were so frightened by the cataclysmic events that they began to spit, launching large rancid streams into the general public, including Jay and Lucy's chasers.
This crowd, intent on catching their prey, suddenly found themselves covered in funky green grime that smelled of twice chewed dog food and week old fish. Camel spit, after all, is really chewed up cud: food regurgitated from one of the chambers of its fore-stomach.
And so, as the agitated and still entwined pot bellied pigs began to ram the goose fence, geese began to flutter into every pen in the petting zoo. Some of rapscallions within those pens took wishful chomps, and some were successful.
Children screamed, geese honked, and feathers flew until they landed upon the delightfully sticky camel spit covering most of the crowd.
When the fastest of the pack began to suffer from calamities related to goose feathers plastered over their eyeballs, the rear collided like dominoes.
And suddenly, Jay and Lucy, with one more glance behind them at the goose and sawdust cloud, realized they were in the clear.
They ran to safety.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Chapter 34
Jay and Lucy raced across Nimitz Drive to Pan Am Arena and the Children's Barnyard. In a flutter of chicken feathers and fowl screams, they flew into the shadows.
They were already halfway to the far wall when their eyes finally adjusted to the dimmer light of the indoor petting zoo.
A frightened giraffe heehawed and llamas long fur waved in the vortex of wind created by the pair's sprint across the hay covered pathway.
Approaching a left turn at the far back wall, Lucy took a glance behind her.
Her left foot, attempting to pivot, hit a slippery layer of hay, and kept sliding.
Lucy looked like an ice skater as she glided swiftly away from Jay's outstretched right hand.
With all the grace of Michelle Kwan, she shot towards the pot bellied pig display.
In slow motion she hit the waist-high temporary enclosure, and vaulted over the top, hands still outstretched, one towards the wall, one towards Jay.
As she soared, she made eye contact with Jay.
He almost smiled.
She looked like a bird.
And then he realized that based upon her current trajectory she would strike a three way barrier between the pot bellied pigs, the giant tortoise, and approximately one hundred geese.
He put his hand over his mouth, biting his tongue.
This was not a time for humor.
They were already halfway to the far wall when their eyes finally adjusted to the dimmer light of the indoor petting zoo.
A frightened giraffe heehawed and llamas long fur waved in the vortex of wind created by the pair's sprint across the hay covered pathway.
Approaching a left turn at the far back wall, Lucy took a glance behind her.
Her left foot, attempting to pivot, hit a slippery layer of hay, and kept sliding.
Lucy looked like an ice skater as she glided swiftly away from Jay's outstretched right hand.
With all the grace of Michelle Kwan, she shot towards the pot bellied pig display.
In slow motion she hit the waist-high temporary enclosure, and vaulted over the top, hands still outstretched, one towards the wall, one towards Jay.
As she soared, she made eye contact with Jay.
He almost smiled.
She looked like a bird.
And then he realized that based upon her current trajectory she would strike a three way barrier between the pot bellied pigs, the giant tortoise, and approximately one hundred geese.
He put his hand over his mouth, biting his tongue.
This was not a time for humor.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Chapter 33
As the music swirled to a crescendo, and the flurry of people and puppets on stage swung round in precariously rapid circles, Jay grabbed Lucy's hand and pulled her across his body, following her into the darkness of stage left.
Their puppet costumes rattled to a quiet slump on scuffed floor slats.
For a brief moment, their melancholic afterpulse almost erupted in mirth.
And then truth came back.
Fear crept into her eyes like a lunar eclipse.
He comforted her hands, holding them tighter.
She was frightened, and she let go, backing away.
He saw her eyes asking him questions.
There was no time.
A curtain rattled.
She grabbed his hand, and they ran.
Their puppet costumes rattled to a quiet slump on scuffed floor slats.
For a brief moment, their melancholic afterpulse almost erupted in mirth.
And then truth came back.
Fear crept into her eyes like a lunar eclipse.
He comforted her hands, holding them tighter.
She was frightened, and she let go, backing away.
He saw her eyes asking him questions.
There was no time.
A curtain rattled.
She grabbed his hand, and they ran.
Monday, September 1, 2014
Chapter 32
Jay and Lucy, breathless with calamity and epinephrine, stumbled onto the black stage, startling an entire audience, and causing a young thespian to pee her pants.
Feeling the threatening bustle at the back of the room that was their pursuant crowd, Jay and Lucy stuck their faces into the back of a couple of life size muppets.
Music thumped from a carnival loudspeaker.
Lucy and Jay, momentarily lost in a frozen sea of norepinephrine, glanced into each other's eyes.
Jay extended his floppy muppet hand towards Lucy's.
She felt the thumping rhythm bleat like a lamb in her heart.
She extended her hand, delicately, touching his.
She smiled.
He smiled.
They began to dance.
Dance.
Twirl.
Jump.
Flee.
Fly.
Higher and higher.
Round and round.
Feeling the threatening bustle at the back of the room that was their pursuant crowd, Jay and Lucy stuck their faces into the back of a couple of life size muppets.
Music thumped from a carnival loudspeaker.
Lucy and Jay, momentarily lost in a frozen sea of norepinephrine, glanced into each other's eyes.
Jay extended his floppy muppet hand towards Lucy's.
She felt the thumping rhythm bleat like a lamb in her heart.
She extended her hand, delicately, touching his.
She smiled.
He smiled.
They began to dance.
Dance.
Twirl.
Jump.
Flee.
Fly.
Higher and higher.
Round and round.
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