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May 25, 2005
Volume 1, Issue 13
Hey, little girl
click for bigger.Find your inner demons and let them loose.
Stacy: Smile
"Come on, honey, smile for the camera."
She scuffed her feet in the dirt, looked down, didn't feel like smiling.
"Come on," he said again, in that disgusting wheedling voice he always used. The one that made her want to throw up, gave her nightmares.
Katie said she knew where her Pa kept a knife. Katie said she could get it, easy. Katie was her best friend, her only friend.
She would do it. He would dare come to her room again one night, and she would cut him until he died. Screaming, she hoped.
She looked up, and smiled.
Ted: Headed for K.C.
"Mister, hey Mister?"
I turned around, already knowing what I would see.
"Yes?"
"My momma says you didn't pay her enough."
They always say that. They somehow think their pride has value, is worth more than I am willing to pay.
"Honey, go tell your momma that if she didn't have such a lead ass, I would have paid more."
"Will you wait here while I go, so I don't have to run too far to catch you after?"
"Sure honey."
I waited for ten burning minutes while the Oklahoma dust seeped into my clothes.
"Ready to go now?"
"Yessir."
The Eschatologist: Someone To Watch Over Me
The summer wind and dust bit at her ragged clothes, but she managed to keep up with the procession.
"S'all right, Annie." She dabbed her sweaty brow with a sleeve, managing a wry smile for the toy.
"Momma went to be with Daddy, but I'm still here. Uncle Abe said he'd take care of us."
Dust flew up and she lost the cart in the swirling winds. The two caskets disappeared into a thick film of remembrance.
Abe stepped out of the maelstrom and laid a hand softly on her cheek.
"Don't worry, darlin. You can call me daddy now."
Michele: Doll Parts
They came in dusty wagons from all over to see the miracle doll. Martha held on tight to that thing, letting the throngs of believers see the face, but never touch it. Sometimes she held the doll up to the crowd and they dropped to their knees in praise. She liked to toy with them like that, to hear the rise and fall of their excitement as she allowed them brief glimpses of the Virgin Mary’s face.
Eventually, Martha got bored and sold the doll to Pete at the Golden Saloon for fifty cents and a bottle of root beer.
Andy: A New Mourning
He wakes, walks to the living room, looks at the photos on the wall. Morning slips in between the blinds, each beam a spotlight on a framed moment.
A daughter of the dustbowl, doll in her arms.
A son of the city, tweed suit and shorts.
A wedding before the war.
A honeymoon after.
Children grown and grandchildren growing.
An anniversary of rubies and red flowers.
Upstairs, she again cradles a doll, different but with the same name, and lives in a place where the last fifty years never happened and he is a stranger.
He weeps for the dead.
Laurence - Voices
The voices are coming from inside your head, not the doll.
No, I don't know why I can hear them, too. Yes, that's very strange.
Maybe you're mumbling the words like a ventriloquist. Can you bite down on this piece of rubber for a moment and we'll just have a listen?
Okay, I still hear it. It's talking about burning down the cornfields.
That's a very pretty dress. Here's something you can wear over it. Just put your arms in the sleeves and try to relax.
I'll just hold the doll for a moment, okay?
This won't hurt a bit.