Anthology Complex VIII by M.B. Julien - HTML preview
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.
As I sit here in Hell, ruminating on the angel who betrayed me, I understand more clearly I could have given her the world and the world would not have been enough Diamond rings and roses were not enough
Stars and moons were not enough
I gave to her my complete heart and still she did not trust me The irony of the angel was in her paradox
Despite her jewelry and her dresses and her shoes and her cosmetics She was not by any account a materialistic woman
She had depth
She was creative
She was genuinely beautiful in all the ways that are pure But she was mad
If I even spoke innocently to a mortal woman she would crush their soul She would turn and twist their fates before she swallowed them whole And she'd spit them back out and everything they had would be lost And I would learn to keep my mouth shut else they'd have to deal with the boss
--------
Year 3
--------
I will admit that in the third year of knowing her
There were times when her third wings showed promise We climbed to great heights and on the shoulders of mountains We watched the world turn
She wanted to experience it all; joy, pain, exuberance, exhaustion And I carefully spent my time watching her carefully I knew that if I gave her one thing, she would want everything And I knew that if I gave her nothing, I would become nothing to her With this revelation I folded, instead of giving her one sun I gave her twin suns 141 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
Instead of giving her a little rainfall, I gave her a hurricane When she asked for one rose, I gave her twelve to see what the angel becomes And when I gave her the ring from Saturn, I made sure it was only the planet that would remain
--------
Year 4
--------
Despite her demeanor, my nature to please her is what also kept her submissive In all the time we spent together I never saw her look at another man nor speak of one When she was angry there was absolutely no mercy
But when she was lovely she was also loyal
I suppose her submissive nature came from the fact that when we were divided It was her task to be found and it was my task to find her And I have observed in mortal men that often they choose And I have observed in mortal women that often they are chosen But among angels and demons no one is chosen and no one chooses It is a soul contract devised by divine creatures
And I have seen this contract broken by a demon who abuses And I have seen his angel plunge a blade into his heart to leave behind features
--------
Year 5
--------
There were moments when she was as soft as an angel
She'd lay on top of me and for days we did nothing
In caves through sleepless nights I would feel her face on my chest And with my arms around her I held her close
Laying there I thought about the eventual fate of the world I thought about the fall of Satan and how he reigned over the Earth I thought about how we were doing nothing for humankind Not tempting it into sin or saving it from eternal damnation The ease of life at this time, I knew it was idle
142 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
But I was so content to look into eyes so bridal
To enjoy the small moments such as these to me was so vital What did it matter that I was a demon and she was an angel, each was only a title
--------
Year 6
--------
She belonged to me, and I reminded her of this fact every day Every time I would suck firm her soft breasts
Every time I would squeeze hard her soft backside
Every time I would spread her and enter her
She understood that her loyalty was to my reign
But when she learned that like a mortal woman she had conceived a child Everything changed
And as her belly grew larger so did her conscious thoughts about it Though I reminded her that no immortal woman had ever had a mortal child She wanted to hear nothing of it as she watched the mothers go about their day I should have known by now what she was planning to do I should have known that the next stage in her evolution was Mother Nature And I should have known that I would become second to something new But my foolishness begged me to take on the wager
--------
Year 7
--------
When an immortal breaks the soul contract through committing a sin They become mortal and must remain in the human realm But I realized too late that she was willing to violate a commandment And murder me so that she would become mortal and save her son For our seventh anniversary, she thought it romantic a dinner in the woods She prepared every thing and found a location so remote as to be peaceful But I could not predict that an immortal would want so badly to become mortal So that like the mothers she saw she could ferry new life into the human realm 143 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
I had drank poison and my last sight of her was the final layer of her wings And when I awoke I saw that I was in the burning flames of Hell But in knowing that she is now human and has sinned for mortal things When she perishes I will find her and a great vengeance I will carry out well What is mythology? What is the point of mythology? I think in the most strict and concise definition, myths are stories that will always be true. The characters may change, the settings may change, even parts of the plots may change, but the moral of the story is eternal. There will always be people who fly too closely to the Sun and there will always be people who admire themselves in the reflections of lakes.
The mythos' purpose is the same as any tale, really; to warn you. They are often cautionary tales that speak of humanity at its lowest or most undesirable. And if a mythos is always about what will always be here, it would make sense that most stories deal with madness, mental illness and the manic state of the human mind.
Last night, I had a nightmare. In the nightmare it was morning and I was in my apartment. It was 1952. I knew because of the newspaper I was reading. I was married because I had a wedding band on my ring finger. Reading the newspaper, I noticed that I had a suit on but without the suit jacket. I was drinking coffee.
Suddenly a woman walked out of the bedroom. I immediately recognized it to be Lynne, who had on an apron as she walked back to the kitchen. When she got to the kitchen, I saw that Kirby had been sitting in a babyseat playing with blocks that featured numbers and letters on them.
Near Kirby was an iron and an ironing table and my suit jacket, which Lynne then proceeded to iron.
I looked at my watch, set down my coffee and began walking toward her as I needed to leave for work. I picked up my briefcase on the way to her and when I got to her I gestured for my suit jacket. She just then remembered a piece of mail that was for me, and in turning around too quickly she suddenly knocked over Kirby's open bottle and it fell down making impact with my shoes. The milk spilled all over my dress shoe and my dress pant and in my mind I thought to myself that I was going to miss the train because of this.
I was annoyed at her clumsiness and as I went to clean up my shoe and my pant, I thought about Kirby and how I had regretted having a child with her.
There is something in me that believes that men never actually choose marriage. They choose either freedom or societal-pleasing. That is they choose their independence or they get married to both please and shut everyone else up. In my estimation, they almost never actually choose their wife or their children. I don't think it's the same for women. I 144 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
think women actually choose marriage. I think they actually choose their husband and their children. I think this because even if there was no societal pressure, many of them would still get married and have children. I can almost guarantee you that all men, if not for seeming strange for not being married after a certain age, would never get married.
And so who pays the price for the mindsets of men? Especially men who get married mainly for image? The wife and their children, once she realizes that she was not actually chosen.
There are of course exceptions to this. I have no family or friends to create the pressure to seem “normal,” and yet to some capacity I've chosen “marriage” and I've chosen Lynne. I've even chosen her children because while on vacation I told her that if she were to suddenly die I would take care of them and would never have them go back to that pussy ass faggot. Sara is mine. I still don't think Dave completely likes me.
Despite my annoyance with my situation, I finished cleaning my clothes and when I got back up I put on my suit jacket and my fedora and kissed her and Kirby goodbye.
When I returned home that evening I kissed her hello. Dinner had been prepared and the entire apartment had been cleaned and all of my composition notebooks had been arranged the way I liked them. The final act of her obedience was in her wearing my favorite outfit of hers, a sunbright yellow dress that made everything else in the apartment seem dark.
Sitting at the dinner table late at night, I ran my hand underneath her soft thigh, and slowly I was waking. To remember her breasts and her bottom I try hard but the image does not tune. I must have desired her so dearly underneath that midnight moon.
Fully awake and fully alone in my apartment at four a.m., I smelled the scent of Lynne as I went across the bed and to my laptop to record the dream.
There I saw a file titled “MIST FALLING ON CEDARS.” It was a dream I had had years ago, and this couldn't have been the original title because I had the dream before I met Lynne and I stole this title from her poetry book.
After leaving prison, a prison I had spent over a year in with the psychopath Spookieni who spoke every night into my mind and my brain and my psychology, I was so distraught that I went to a random small town that was surrounded on one side by a large body of water. Even in my freedom, I could still hear Spookieni's voice in my head.
Conveniently, the town had a cave alongside the water and for a few days I stayed there, thinking of the things the lunatic said to me.
Even more, I thought of Dice and the chaos he must have been committing in the world now. These two in my mind, I could only think of dark things. And as I laid my head to sleep, I meditated more on the fact that this world truly was no place for heroes and could only harbor villains. That night, in a nightmare, I accepted the fate that Dice 145 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
had cast upon me. If I was ever going to defeat him, I would have to become like him.
Void of meaning and morality.
When I came to, I heard the sounds of children shouting. Leaving the cave I walked up toward the town and saw that it was covered completely in dense fog.
As I traveled through the thick fog, I saw that I could see nothing. It wasn't until I got deeper into the heart of the town that I saw anything. I saw humans who were filled with fear. I saw the chaos of vehicles smashed into eachother. I saw the destruction of property caused by uncertainty. I saw bodies, lifeless, men, women and children, lying in the streets from violent interruption. I saw humanity at its most atavistic. But the most important thing I saw that morning wasn't what was without, but what was within. I saw that lying asleep at night in that cave, thinking the dark thoughts of a fallen world, that it caused the fog around me to spread for miles, covering every yard of this small town. I saw that what was supposed to be my superpower engulfed the town and sent it into madness.
I looked around and was almost pleased at the chaos. I ruminate more on the dark thoughts that brought fear here, and the fog becomes even more dense until it becomes like smoke and the residents cannot breathe. It only took an hour for every resident of this town to succumb to their own fears and suffocate from the smoke. When it was all over, I stopped, and the mist began to lift.
Out of the rising mist I saw a figure walking toward me. It spoke in the same manner as Spookieni did, but was feminine. When I could see clearly, the figure was dressed in the same manner as Spookieni, but again, dressed feminine. It was when she told me that her name was Spookiena that I realized what was happening to me psychologically.
I had spent so much time in that jailcell listening to Spookieni that he must have implanted her into my mind. And just like that, his faint voice died off and was replaced with the nonstop verbal diarrhea of Spookiena's.
When the Sun was rising I was done momentarily with my dreams. I take my phone and find Lynne's contact, and then I sent her “:)” as a text message. This and all others for the lady: If ever I've put a spell on you, it's because she put one on me first.
She must have woken up two hours later because that was when she sent me a smiley face back and told me that we needed to go grocery shopping. My fridge had been empty and I was bumming off of theirs.
I looked for my backpack and before I could find it I heard her enter into my apartment. She walked in with her backpack on and very soon followed Sara with a backpack as well and was told she would be coming along because they needed school supplies. I assumed Dave stayed back to watch Mordecai and soon we left after I found my pack.
146 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
Without a word from anyone we walked through the hallway, called the elevator, then stepped in. Going down was silent as well. It was silent until for some reason, the elevator stopped and a red ring appeared around all of the buttons. The three of us looked at each-other confusingly.
Sara walked up and pressed the “G” button again, but nothing happened. “Is it stuck?,” Lynne asked the both of us. That was when the elevator light slightly dimmed to a lower output level. Looking up at the light, I said “It's something.”
We ended up calling David and asked him to call for the elevator, but he said as he walked up to the buttons they were red and nothing happened when he pressed them. I told him to go back to Kirby and then told Lynne to phone for the police, and as she did this I found some writing on the panel that indicated that a red buttoning meant there was some kind of power failure with the elevator and to use the emergency contact for assistance.
Lynne had already called the police and she told us that they were on their way. After about five minutes of standing, Sara sat down, then I sat down then Lynne sat down.
Sara took out her phone, and if Lynne had a reason to look at hers she would have done the same.
Just sitting there, I noticed that Sara was wearing the Promises ring and attached to it was a golden crescent moon. When I looked at Lynne's fingers, I saw that she was wearing a golden crescent moon charm as well. They must have ordered it online.
Further observations had me see Lynne wearing the earrings bases with white stars and Sara wearing the crown with the necklace base.
When she saw me obviously looking at their charms, old and new, she told me that Sara found a website online where you can get them for cheaper, and some even used for almost a third of the price. I later learned that along with the twin crescent moons they bought a “white angel wings” said by Lynne and a “blue and black yin and yang thing”
said by Sara and a “three red tiny gem spheres with the middle one slightly larger than the outside ones” said by Lynne and “all for ten dollars a piece” said by Sara, but they came as singles and not as a set.
A minute after this revelation, the elevator light dimmed to an even lower output level and their faces were becoming only contour lines in the faded darkness. And a minute after this, the light flickered into a normal output level and less than half of a second later went back to the lower output level. This was followed by, maybe with two seconds, a clicking sound from the button panel. We noticed that after the clicking sound, the red outline of the buttons were gone, but slowly faded back into presence to let us know there were still issues with the elevator.
For myself I was not really that afraid because so far the only issues seemed to be 147 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
electrical and not mechanical, but I also don't know much about elevators. They didn't seem to be afraid either, just puzzled.
Sara, of her own volition, put away her phone and joined Lynne and I in having nothing to escape to but our minds. Like before, the light flicked into full power mode and then went back into that low output mode, followed by a click from the button panel and a restoration of the red numbers. Then, Sara asked me a question.
“Do you never work because you have a lot of money saved up?” “Yup, and because I don't spend my money on anything else but you.” “How much do you have saved up?”
“Enough to buy you a thousand charm sets.” Sara looked at her mother and then Lynne looked back at her, then at me, saying “Don't tease her like that. There aren't even a thousand different sets... Are there?” We all three began laughing almost seeming to cause the light flicker with the sound of clicking from the buttons.
“Do you ever think about what you want to do for work?,” I asked Sara. Lynne interrupted, saying “Ever since she moved into her own room she's been wanting to be an interior decorator. She moves things around every week.” “Yeah, or a graphic designer,”
Sarah finished.
“That would be pretty cool, working for film studios or something,” I said. “I wish.
Maybe I could get you guys your own TV show and design your house,” Sara replied.
“And the show could be a light romance about how much he adores me,” Lynne said. I nodded my head in a small disagreement. “What? You don't adore me?” “No, I do, but I ain't no Hollywood type.” The way I said it made them both laugh and again went the light flicker and the button clicking.
When there was silence there was none in my mind. When I was a kid, someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I answered “a dinosaur,” which should explain a lot about me.
As Lynne moved over to a gesturing Sara to see what was on her phone, their voices played like the background to my mind as I continued to think about times when I was younger.
Between youth and wisdom we will each of us choose multiple desired professions.
Sara wants to be an interior decorator or a graphic designer now, but I will bet all one thousand of her charms that five years from now she will want to be something else. It's why I never understood why we make young adults choose what they want to be for the next forty-seven years. For basically the next half-century. At that age I don't even think the part of their brain that deals with planning is even fully formed yet. I went to college as a business major, and that ended up being a major mistake. I've never used my degree, and instead I learned to be a carpenter. That trade I suppose is past me now, and honestly if I were to ever go back to work, it wouldn't be for anything career related. The only job 148 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
I could ever see myself working is a job that was not demanding at all and I would never have to take my work home with me.
The light in the elevator turns on, and this time without any flickering. The button panel clicks, but the red buttons do not come. The elevator begins to shift, jumps, and then starts going down like it should have long ago. The three of us rose to our feet and saw the numbers going down until we finally got to the lobby. Sara had pressed the ground button but in its malfunction it must have defaulted to the lobby. When the door opened, we were surprised to see that there were no police officers or firefighters in sight, so I pressed the ground button and we went down one more level.
We walked through the darkened garage and when we appeared outside, we could see the end of an ambulance sticking out from around the corner. We began walking that way and that was when we saw the firefighters who looked confused and may have perhaps just arrived. I told them that the elevator suddenly started working again, and after asking me a few questions, they reviewed the elevator and they went on their way.
At Publiks we bought food and school supplies and then headed back home. Instead of taking the elevator back the way up, we took the stairs. All twenty-two damn flights with bags in our hands.
Entering Lynne's apartment I saw Dave's room's door was open and Kirby was inside watching him play video games. He had been sitting up on his own on the ground and enjoying the raid of bullets, but when he heard and saw us enter, he became excited and began crawling toward us. After Lynne put down her bags I saw that she was exhausted; she picked up Kirby and sat down on the couch with him and she probably wasn't going to get back up for a while.
Sara and I stocked their fridge with their items and at some sudden moment Lisa entered the apartment, asking us if we had gotten stuck in the elevator. David must have told her.
We later learned that Elway, since 2011, had always complained of the elevator and the fact that he got stuck in it twice. He had constantly told the owner of the building to fix it but it never was.
After she left, I told Sara that I wanted to see her room. She took me to it and I saw the fresh pale purple and white design. I looked around, nodded my head and thought she would make a fine interior decorator someday if the dream lasted.
When I left the crown jewel's room, so did the crown prince leave his own. He looked at his new digital watch and then told us he was going to the park to see some of his friends. I wondered why Sara didn't go as well seeing as they were all part of the same group, but maybe David found new ones.
I left Sara and the resting Lynne and Kirby to their devices and returned to my 149 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
apartment where I put my foods away and then went to lay down. I fell asleep and then woke up just like that due to the same tiredness that plagued Lynne. When I awoke, I heard that it was raining outside upon the city and saw that it was night-time.
The dream that I dreamed moments ago was a shootout in New York City. My partner and I had exited the bank with black duffle bags after robbing it. Before we could enter our vehicle, however, law enforcement had been waiting for us outside the bank.
What ensued was a long shootout that progressed down a Manhattan street. Almost like soldiers, my partner and I fended off flank attacks and attacks from ahead as we weaved through and in and out of recently abandoned cars on the street. Pedestrians fled every which way which was also good cover for us.
I recognized one of the officers. He had been trying to catch us for more than two years now, and this was going to be as close as he got. But that wasn't the most important thing I recognized. I also recognized that this was the mythos birth of the first time we had ever worn suits.
From the various dreams I knew that my partner and I did not normally target private banks and often robbed retail banks. Knowing they would not let us enter this bank without the proper attire, we made an investment on a pair of suits tailored to rich men.
This is one of the most difficult aspects of dream study. Figuring out things that aren't spoonfed to you, and every time I figure out something like that I put a note in the dream detailing it just incase it may be more pertinent than I know.
Surviving that deadly shootout was something neither of us ever wanted to endure again, and so we made plans never to target another private bank. And besides, after this, there would surely be bounties on our heads.
Lightning flashed into my apartment and it was soon followed by rolling thunder.
Checking my watch I saw that it was eight o'clock and that it was beginning to be the time of year where night falls early.
At 8:01 Lynne entered the apartment. Instead of coming to me she walked toward my bedroom. I already knew what she was going to do. I called at her and at the doorway she stopped and then walked toward me. I whispered something in her hear, causing her to say “Oh! So I'm not the only one fantasizing.” “Just fucking do it already,” I said to her.
And so she came back out with the blanket as a cape around her, which I knew she was going to do already, and with a pillow underneath her shirt, which I wanted to see her as a pregnant woman. If ever you have obsessed over me, it is because I obsessed over her first.
When she got close enough to me she threw the blanket on the top of the couch and then immediately began rubbing her belly. “It's kicking,” she said, “do you want to feel it?”
150 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
When she sat down next to me I put my hand on her belly and rubbed it. “I don't feel anything,” I said. “Just wait...” “Nothing, must've gone to sleep.” I waited, and when the flash of lightning entered my apartment, I felt it on the crash of thunder. “I felt it,” I said as she smiled a twisted smile. “Tell us you love us,” she said aloud. If I am your first true love, it is because she was my first.
“I love you,” I kissed her nose, “and I love you,” I kissed her belly. With this she pushed me onto my back on the couch and began taking off her shorts and then her underwear. When she got up, she lowered her top so her breasts could hang out over it and made sure to keep the illusion of her being pregnant by keeping the pillow under it.
She then removed my shorts. I was not wearing underwear. I thought about calling her
“Princess Mommy,” or “Queen Mommy,” but I figured to keep my mouth shut. All I ever wanted in a wife was to show her how much I loved her. It's always easier to show your feelings to a corpse, but now I have a woman who is actually alive. And even though she had life, it was always more about what she didn't have than what she did. If you see me and understand me, it is because I saw her and understood her first.
She stayed upright as she moved herself about my body, going side to side or back and forth and sometimes up and down. She stayed upright so I could see her pregnant body and her full breasts. Lightning only illuminated once and thunder only rolled once before I was soon to give her another child.
Still on me, I sat up and placed my back against the rest of the couch and she sat on me with her breasts only inches from my face. With her hand she palmed the underside of her left breast and brought it forward into my mouth. When I was firmly latched onto it, she let go and brought her left hand up my bicep and onto my shoulder and brought her right hand up my bicep and around the back of my neck. She moved closer to me to jam her breast even further into my face, and in her movement my penis flung out of her vagina. Quickly it slapped back up against her derriere and rested in between her cheeks.
If ever you have fantasized about me in impure ways, it is because I fantasized about her in lustful ways first.
With both of my hands against her lower back I tongued her excited nipple and played with it as I sucked on it for long durations. Sometimes I would pull my head back and watch as her breast lowered and her nipple stretched until I let go of it and it snapped back into form, and then she would place it back into my mouth again until I repeated the process. On one occasion as I sucked firm I began to taste a tiny supply of her milk, and in pulling my head back my mouth still attached to her nipple, when I let it go I saw a small stream of milk fall down her body. I licked up as much of it as I could until I latched onto her nipple again and began sucking on the pap of life; and as I did this I lowered us back onto the couch and she reached back to put me into her so she could 151 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
thrust back and forth. I remained latched and as her fluids went into me so did mine into her. If ever I have turned your world upside down, it's because she turned my world upside down first.
When I detached, she took the pillow from underneath her shirt and threw it onto the ground. We removed all of the remaining clothes we had on and she took the blanket from the top of the couch and placed it over us and she laid on top of me. She tucked the blanket underneath me because she wanted to feel the pressure of being so close to me and under the covers. If you have searched for the likeness of me in all men, it is because I had tried to alikened all women into her.
She said strangely she didn't feel tired. Neither did I, and it was probably because she came down four hours earlier than she usually did. So instead of sleeping the both of us stayed awake. After a moment lightning and thunder came, and in a very ditsy manner Lynne half-proposed and half-demanded that each time I hear thunder, “You have to kiss mommy.”
As her face laid into the side of my neck we waited. When thunder didn't come she with her foot began to play with mine. When thunder still didn't come she pushed her face further into my neck. And when thunder finally did come, she moved her head to hover above mine and waited. I moved up a slight degree and kissed her and then fell back down, and after laughing softly she put her face back in my neck. If I've ever broken your heart, it is because she broke mine first.
“I just remembered that I had one of those picnic dreams,” she said into me as she scratched my foot with hers.
“You fell asleep on the blanket and for some reason I got up and started walking through a big field. I got to my bicycle and put in the combination to unlock it, and then I rode all the way to a small town. The first person I talked to I knew who they were and after talking to them I went into my house and knew where everything was. I sat down and looked at the ring on my finger and it was the ring but with a tornado charm, which I don't own. I don't even know if they make a tornado charm. And so when I saw that, I became lucid. I tried not to get too excited so I wouldn't wake myself up, and then I walked back outside and saw the same person I talked to just before entering my house. I was suddenly aware that I didn't know this person at all. And I was becoming more aware that I didn't really know this town or my house. I knew you, so I wanted to get back to you, but when I went to go unlock my bicycle again, I suddenly didn't know what the combination was.” Lightning flashed into the room and was soon followed by rolling thunder, and like clockwork she lifted her face to hover above mine so I could kiss her. I lifted my head, kissed her, and laid back down. When she put her face back onto my chest she continued her dream. “I gave up trying to remember the lock combination and 152 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
just started walking until I got out of the town and into a big field where I thought a picnic could happen. The problem was I couldn't remember the way back. I walked for a long time until it became dark and I was lost in the woods. And I guess because I was wearing it in real life, I just stared up at a crescent moon hoping you would find me and then I woke up.”
“That's so weird and you also made me realize something.” “What?” It thundered again but this time she only leaned over and kissed me on the lips and then laid back the way she was.
“In the first half of the dream, you went about it normally. You knew the combination, you knew where the town was, you knew who that one person was, you knew where your house was, and then when you saw the tornado charm and became lucid, or became aware and conscious of your reality, you suddenly knew nothing. When you went back to the person, because of your parent consciousness, which is the consciousness from this reality we're in, your mind knew that you didn't really know that person. Your mind knew that it was all a dream and that it was all fictional. You even forgot the locker combination because it was like your minds were swapped out and you know you had your real mind in a dream world.”
“Yeah and it's kind of like when you become aware in this world, that's when you realize you really didn't know anything about it. You were just going through it like the conventional way that we dream,” she said.
I replied saying only that it was all very interesting and then we were silent for a while. The final crash of thunder came and it peacefully rolled away, and we both knew that it would be the last one for the night because it thundered so far away. She rose up one final time and pressed her soft lips against mine and held it there, and when I understood what she really wanted both of our mouths opened marginally and then closed tangled. I had never thought I could know someone's tongue as intimately as I knew hers; its movements, what it would say, lies and truths and fantasies, the way it felt against mine. If you have longed to touch me, it is because I longed to touch her first.
Like she has done almost every other day, she brushed her nose against mine and then laid her head back down on my chest.
I tried to sleep but I couldn't. And repeated movements of her head told me that she probably couldn't as well. I could tell just from instinct that it was still earlier than the time we usually went to bed.
“I can't sleep,” I heard her say softly and she must have known I was still awake. “It's because you came down here too early.” “I came down so early because I slept in the day.” “I did, too, because of those damn twenty-two floors with a backpack and groceries bags.” She laughed.
153 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
We stayed shut up for half an hour more, but even then nothing changed. “I'm at the point where I know I can't fall asleep, so now I definitely won't fall asleep.” I laughed and told her I was the same way. For ten more minutes her body pressed against mine under the tight blankets and then we called it quites.
I removed the tightly tucked blanket from underneath me and that loosened her from me, and then she got up off of me and sat on the couch. I sat up and put back on my basketball shorts as she put back on her underwear. She looked at her phone then went into the kitchen and disappeared. Then she left the kitchen and went into the bedroom and disappeared again. If you have managed to love me at my worst, it is because I managed to love her at her worst.
When she came back out she walked over to the pillow and placed it on the couch, then grabbed the blanket and went and sat on the window ledge, her legs laid out before her and staring at the dark city. If I were to guess, I would say she wasn't thinking of the city at all. I'd say she was imagining if all of this were a dream and she only thought she knew me. And if she was thinking of the city, maybe she was thinking about how she didn't really know it. I had only a moment to watch her, but I did, and I had the vivid memory of her in another life. I am never in the lens because I am the lens. And if ever you've thought I was rare, it is because I thought she was rare first.
I went to her and occupied the opposite side of the ledge and took my half of the blanket. Again our feet touched underneath the warmth, and suddenly she began speaking.
“Since we have memory, we are aware of the concept of life. But what if when you pass over to another world through death, there is no memory there and that's why we can't remember it?”
“...Maybe in that world life hasn't evolved yet to the state of having a working memory?”
“So in order to remember a past life, memory has to work in the world you left and the world you are entering?,” she asked.
“Yeah, and maybe those places that currently have no memory, consciousness there will some day evolve to have memory and the way we die here will be transformed.” She asked me what I meant.
“When someone dies outside of our world and enters it through birth, they will be able to have the knowledge of their past life because there will be working memory in the world they left and the world they are entering, which is this one, which we know has working memory.”
She nodded her head in wonder and looked at the city once, then looked at me from the corner of her eyes. She laughed. “What are you laughing at?” “Nothing...” I went 154 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
under the blanket and grabbed her by her feet, and then slid her body all the way to me and I'm sure she must have gotten a wedgie. Laughing through it all sometimes amazed I turned her body and forced her onto me, my arms wrapped around her so she couldn't escape. When she gave up she laid the back of her head onto my chest and her eyes wandered through the city once more. This time I'm not sure at all what she may have been thinking about. It could have been anything from the stars above to the oceans below... Come lay your tears on my skin, and call off your dogs for the moment we're in.
Like some kind of twin insomnia, as I grew tired and couldn't keep my eyes open, I felt her fall asleep through her soft breathing. Eventually I too began to dream, but it was cut short by the sounds of a helicopter overhead. Awake again I felt her softly dreaming breaths and wondered which world she went to this time. If she knew any of the people or any of the places. If I have ever made you feel alive, it is because she awakened me first.
The eighth year of knowing her gave me a sense of nostalgia. A feeling of a mythological eternity. And I thought about my own death, I imagined myself laying on my deathbed and how I would feel when I walked through the exit door. I thought about how I would leave any memory of her behind forever. And I thought also about how I would feel if I was reborn into the same life I had now to repeat it. At the thought's end I felt solace because for infinity I was ready to meet her again and I was ready to love her again. If ever you've put me on a pedestal, it's because I put her on one first.
In the reflection of the glass beside us I could see her face dreaming with city lights.
There is something distinct about the scent of a nymph. It is in a way designed for the senses of a satyr.
155 | MYTHOLOGY COMPLEX
M.B. JULIEN
Chapter 77
IN ROYAL BLOOD
3:2:8:77
Erica and Courtney argue over fashion while tanning in the estate's garden. (2002)
A Thankfulness jubilee was a rare occasion, but one occurred in 2010. It nearly coincided with the Thanksgiving holiday in the United States and would seem to imitate it as well; there was to be a large dinner with many family members and friends.
In the early hour of three A.M. Virginia walked through a large hallway in the palace, browsing through photos on an early smartphone, and eventually stopped to gaze at a late crescent Moon. The large cathedral windows gave her this Gothic sight of ethereal beauty, but upon gazing upon it, she became jealous of nature, and she saw something awful in the very simplicity she failed to understand.
At around the same time, Jessica Flanagan was sitting at her desk working on the finances of the royal tours she had taken charge of since 2008. Working with the television on in the background, she came to note that less and less people were becoming interested in the tours.
With a knock on the door, she wondered who else would have been up so late at the apartments, and when she opened the door she saw that it was her son, Abraham, come to berate her about being overly protective and controlling.
“You embarrass me in public and treat me like I'm a little boy!,” he yelled at her, waking up at least one other resident of the apartments.
Angrily, Jessica forced him inside and closed the door behind him. “I treat you like a little boy because you are one,” she said forcefully, “and if I don't protect you from the evil women out there, who will?”
After calming down, Jessica began to tell Abraham about his dead aunt, Victoria, who died young to suicide. She mentioned her because she knew that Victoria was not the only victim between her and her director, and she knew that Victoria was closer to the evil woman than the director was to the predatory man. Abraham eventually forgave his mother, but began drafting his devious plot of revenge on Sissy, who was the “evil woman” Jessica spoke of, and who was the woman who accepted a diamond ring from him only to post a photograph of it online on the popular website Yearbook claiming she bought it with her own wealth.
At six in the morning small streaks of light filled the dark sky. Jeffrey and Vivian had begun the day the way they have been beginning it since 2002. A leisurely stroll throughout all of the estate to keep in balance whatever remaining health they had in their twilight years.
156 | IN ROYAL BLOOD
M.B. JULIEN
There was a gap in their relationship starting in the eighties where both parties lost interest in one another. Or rather it should be said that Vivian lost interest in Jeff, as Jeff before 2000 was never interested in her. But after the new millennium, Vivian was sixty-two years old. Vivian, in Jeff's eyes, had already long qualified as a sexual mate, but what hindered his full-on attraction to her was always her personality. And besides, Viv was never interested in his penis.
What had changed after the new millennium was the realization that neither of them would ever have anyone else. In their strolls each morning they spoke of being vile and unlovable creatures. They even said to eachother's faces in more ways than one that they didn't love eachother but only tolerated the other. Company, even royal company, was better than utter loneliness.
As the pair walked through the miniature forest on the Flanagan estate, Jeff suddenly spotted something in a bush. Walking off the concrete path he went to it and began poking at the bush until he was able to reach for the shiny object. In his hand he held an obviously old and rusty gold ring. In walking back to Vivian, he laughed as he showed her what he found.
“Wonder who this belonged to,” he said laughing. Holding out her hand Jeffrey gave the ring to Vivian who then inspected the inside of it. Inside was carved the name
“Antoinette,” but the name did not ring a bell to either of them. There was no one in their family history who went by that name.
Two hours prior to the first rays of morning light, Edward and Sonya, each of whom barely ever slept and who were night-owls, had caught a cat who crossed onto the acre.
Using an injection, Edward shot the cat full of a fluid that would sedate it, and Sonya held it in a plastic bag as they walked back into the palace.
The palace at present was dark with only a couple people awake. The two with the cat made their way to the main kitchen which would be a busied place soon on this holiday.
Edward opened the walk-in freezer and Sonya walked inside with the cat, placed it on the ground, kicked it so that it would wake up, and when she saw that it was awake she ran out. A freeze-safe camera inside the walk-in freezer allowed them to see the suffering of the feline.
Edward and Sonya were two young adults who like the rest of their family members sought power. They say that power is often sought by those who do not have it, but this couldn't have been the case for Ed and Sonya. Power was their birthright, it was in their blood and lineage, so for what reason did they seek power over a helpless and defenseless animal? It is because there are two types of power; power given and power taken. Power inherited and power taken by force. Ed and Sonya were given power, but power given is not true power. They will still say what their masters tell them to say. It is the same 157 | IN ROYAL BLOOD
M.B. JULIEN
power given to celebrities and politicians and so-called individuals with influence. The power that Ed and Sonya sought in claiming the life of the cat was power taken by force.
And before they had deleted the footage of the cat dying, they made sure to download it onto their smartphones so they could relive that power every day until they were bored of it.
A lesser evil struggle for power came from the Leons and their wives, Erica and Courtney, whose rivalry now lived on through their children, Walter and Anna. This rivalry was no longer physical as it was not gender-equal, but was now of the mind and of intelligence. Creativity and cleverness.
Both Walter and Anna had graduated from high school in 2007 and both were aware of their mother's inclination that they should do more well in school than the other. But like Edward and Sonya, Walter and Anna bore two faces. To their parents they were scornful foes who with every breath they could muster spoke ill of the other, but in their private quarters they came up with devious ways to make their parents hate each other.
Perhaps the most devious plan, and definitely the final, came to Walter and Anna as they ruminated while studying for finals. “We should write secret love notes to all four of them to make the other think they are cheating,” Walter suggested. Anna liked the idea, but added a spin to it. “We should write one, have Erica or Courtney find it in a neutral place, and address it as from a Leon,” Anna said. The trickery came immediately to Walter who found it genius. The brilliance of this letter was not to whom it was addressed from, but the ambiguous nature of whom it was addressed to.
In the following year of 2011, only four months after Erica would find the letter, she would show it to Courtney and the two would spend months trying to figure it out. Was it Leonel or Leonardo who was the cheat? And following that soon the wives would confront the husbands, and the husbands would say they knew nothing whatsoever of the letter's origin.
In the summer, specifically in June, seven months after today, Erica and Courtney would file for divorce, and it would be only the second and third divorces in the Flanagan's royal history.
At noon when everyone was awake, Frederick and his son, John, along with Shelly, left the estate in van to attend a public affair concerning the Flanagan's plans to combat homelessness in the country's most major city.
Too leaving the estate at the same time but not for the same reasons were married couples Jay and Anastasia, Bernice and Kevin, and Elizabeth, who was married to Frederick.
Along the drive was the feverish discourse of telephone companies, namely wireless telephone companies who developed smartphones, and the fact that each of them 158 | IN ROYAL BLOOD
M.B. JULIEN
subscribed to a unique company for their telecommunication services. Despite the fact that it would have been cheaper for them to all subscribe to the same company under a family plan, they were each of them content to go their own way. Jay from Anastasia, Bernice from Kevin, and Elizabeth from Frederick. They wanted to be so different from each other that instead of thinking with common sense, they began thinking with uncommon sense in an effort to be uncommon.
In their argument, however, was an impending commonality. Jay, who was driving, suddenly became annoyed with Kevin and took his eyes off the road to look back at him.
Only seconds later did Jay lose control of the vehicle and land them in a ditch after swiping a telephone pole and causing it to now lean.
Back at the castle and in hiding was Monica. Her husband, Richard, while not in hiding did accompany her in hiding. Every five years a meeting is held by the government to discuss the new salary cap for the monarchy, and in 2005, it marked the first time in eighty years that the limitation might instead decrease instead of increase.
For this, in 2004, the Flanagans sent Monica to bribe one of the politicians on the council that would decide their total salary compensation. Monica had had prior sexual encounters with Theo Buchanan, but in this time the sexual bribery did not work and instead backfired on the royal family as Theo had plans to make the bribery public. Such an accusation, if convicted, could be an offense that caused the royal family tens of millions in penalties.
And so in late 2004, the Flanagan's faked Monica's death. The story was that she was trying to save her five year-old daughter, Arlene, after she had been on the balcony and escaped onto a ledge. In her attempt, she was able to seize the child and bring her back onto the balcony, but in trying to get back onto the balcony herself, she slipped and fell several stories to her untimely and shocking death.
Now Monica spends much of her day and many of her days secluded in the well-hidden room that twins Summer and June thought only existed in their minds.
While this tragedy was fabricated, there was one tragedy that was true. The very real death of Summer Flanagan in 2006 held worldwide news attention for almost a month.
On the final day of summer, Summer would fall suddenly and violently ill. To her friends and family, there was no reason or rhyme for her sudden sickness and departure from life, until one examined a novel she had been reading and could surmise her violent and ill reaction to it. This was not to be the case, however, as no one would ever examine the final book she ever read.
The novel in question was titled “Dark without Stars” and graphically depicted the cruel reality of arranged marriages. For the first time in her five decades of living, she felt the slightest guilt, and this feeling of a conscious was so acute to her that it ended her life 159 | IN ROYAL BLOOD
M.B. JULIEN
in an abrupt and vicious way. The concept of ethics were so foreign to the Flanagans that any intrusion of it into their mind of the matter was not unlike a virus that sought to do irreparable damage.
The damage that had been done to Summer was an opportunity for her sister, June, who on this day of giving thanks sat in seclusion with Marc near the lake on the grand estate. June was married Mark, but had slowly developed feelings for Marc, and when Summer died she did not take long to indulge in infidelity.
While June's psychology was indefensible, Marc's psychology to some may have been reasonable. He had lost his wife for a reason unknown to him, and in his grief he could not look at June and not see Summer. In the same context, he could not be in June and not feel the warmth of Summer. To his mind there was very little difference, if any at all, and he had reanimated his deceased wife.
As they sat before the lake, Marc suddenly caught glimpse of something shining near the beginning of the lake. He went to pick it up, and then returned to June, showing her what he had found. It was an old, beaten up and rusty ring that must have been at the bottom of the lake for decades.
June accepted the ring from Marc, the same ring that Elaine had thrown into the lake four decades earlier, and then went back into the castle separately as to not invite suspicious eyes.
And yet, suspicious eyes found them. Elaine, in walking with Ivy, daughter to Prince Matthew and Princess Janet, saw the pair split as they walked toward the palace. She thought of it, but not much of it, and soon her and eight year-old Ivy were walking through the estates large garden.
“Now before you eat, we are going to weigh you, and then when we are done eating, we're going to weigh you again to make sure you ate a lot,” Elaine said to Ivy as they passed by plants. “So it's better if I eat all that I can?,” Ivy asked. “Of course. And then on Christmas we will do the same, and we want you to eat ever more!,” Elaine finished.
On the other side of the estate is an actual drive-in theater. The weather this time of year is usually marked by degrees too low to enjoy activities not required to move, but today the temperature was exactly perfect for the outdoors. It maintained that perfect equilibrial temperature and warm windy air so enjoyed by many in autumn. Watching a movie titled “4640” were Daniel, Sandy, River, Crystal and Arlene. The only thing missing was an actual car, and instead they sat or laid on blankets and ate fruits and snacks and sandwiches.
A few yards behind them and sitting on picnic tables were couples George and Tiffany, and Fedora and Brett. On the table that they sat was a ring that Tiffany had found wedged deep between the theater screen and the ground. It's defining characteristic 160 | IN ROYAL BLOOD
M.B. JULIEN
was a shimmering lavender diamond. But already the pairs were bored the mystery of the origin of the diamond and instead spoke of the fact that novelty would always trump physical attraction.
Such rise gave way to such conversation because Brett and George both agreed that despite men being visual creatures, they were not as simple as their wives made them out to be and felt that men held in high esteem, in the same way as women, new relationships and new encounters that brought about shimmering possibilities.
At the beginning of King Brian III and Queen Sophia's relationship could be found the same shimmering possibilities given to the lost lavender diamond, but unlike the piece of jewelry, their shimmers had long been lost.
The king and the queen had found themselves sitting in the estate's courtyard, speaking of their past and their future, sitting just before the statues of King Albert and Queen Meredith. Every which way the statues were plants and flowers that gathered around them. In the wake of their discussion they landed on the fact that this was going to be their thirty-seventh Thankfulness celebrated together, though if they were both being honest, they were more indifferent about it than thankful.
The pair eventually got up and began walking toward the palace in the cooling evening. Only a half hour later all of the adults were seated at the multiple adult's tables and all of the children were seated at the multiple children's tables.
There were so many people there, family and guests, that it was slightly difficult to tell who was missing. But as the large dinner went on, it also didn't seem to matter.
Barging into the dinner as loudly as he could was Slant who began screaming at the top of his lungs about something peculiar, and soon followed Prince Matthew and Princess Janet, who wore a red dress riddled in raspberry diamonds.
“Bitch ass motherfuckers got 'em, they snatched 'em up off the street!,” Slant yelled.
Finally it was Prince Matthew who explained the situation.
About four hours ago, Frederick, Shelly and John were kidnapped and were currently being held for ransom. The first thought which ran through the mind of King Brian III was that this was a ploy by King Anthony, who for the past decade had initiated several tactics against Brian III's monarchy in an attempt to hamstring it. It became something of a cold war, inciting various strategies such as embargoes and yellow journalism.
With a smoking cigarette in her mouth and a rifle in her hands, Fedora shouted that she would bring them all back, and in this moment on the television screen the hostage situation was front and center news.
Several criminals had rounded up dozens of people, including their three family members, and were holding them hostage for an historic payout. Suffice it to say, the dinner was over and all attention was on the negotiations.
161 | IN ROYAL BLOOD
M.B. JULIEN
For more than an hour the criminals went back and forth with negotiators. And then for an hour after that the negotiations continued. During the third hour, an impatient hostage had decided enough was enough and attempted to disarm one of the criminals. In his fury he was shot and killed and this set off a frenzy that resulted in the deaths of multiple innocents.
Authorities stormed the location, killing almost all of the criminals and helping multiple hostages to flee into suvivordom.
The bloodbath was now being reported on all new-stations, and the inclusion of three royal family members made this international breaking news. It would be thirty minutes of anticipation from the Flanagans until they heard from Frederick that he himself, along with his son, John, and Shelly were unharmed in the incident.
“It's a good thing they're still alive, I hate addressing this nation,” the king said of the familial survivors. “You're still going to have to address them about all the people killed,” the queen reminded him. Sighing, Brian III sat back down at the dinner table and looked at all of the food uneaten. Then he looked at his intricately deigned palace. His highness, for the first time in his life, did not fall on blind eyes. This forced him to think about all of the family and friends of the victims of the hostage situation. The sorrow they would endure and the lives impacted negatively. King Brian III, from these thoughts, began to feel something in the pit of his stomach and in the narrows of his mind. And from these feelings, he began to feel sick. He suddenly stood up, placed both hands on the table before him, and it wasn't too long before he vomited all over some of the remaining food. Onlookers, including his wife, Sophia, quickly ran over to him asking him questions he couldn't understand because his vomiting was so violent. In fact, the hurling was so intense, all the king could do amist the questions was stare at the vomit that was lined in trace amounts of blood.
Fedora Flanagan outshoots all of the other men at the gun range during a targeting exhibition. (2008)
162 | IN ROYAL BLOOD
M.B. JULIEN
Chapter 78
GONE FISHING
3:2:8:78
HALLOWEEN
IN the morning I needed to go to Publiks because I ran out of Lucey Goosies. I figured since I was going there I might as well get some diapers and baby food. As I walked up to the elevator I saw that it was out of service and remembered that people were working on fixing the elevator.
I went down by way of stairs all the way down to the garage and as I walked through the garage I saw a man on a motorcycle. I didn't expect him to say anything but as I approached he suddenly called to me. “Hey, your girl like motorcycles?,” he asked. I never saw him before now but he must have seen me.
“I don't know. Why?” “She like riding bitch?” I squinted my eyes at him. “No, no,”
he laughs, “sorry, my mistake, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, do you think she would find a motorcycle ride romantic?”
After five minutes of talking, I ended up giving him a hundred and fifty dollars.
“Bike's not registered. You crash it or get pulled over it's on you and you don't know me. I'll deny everything. Any costs, that's on you, I get motorcycles every other month.
Cops don't like the paperwork. Nine times out of ten they'll just tell you to get legal. You see cops around here late at night don't usually pull people over so just drive the speed limit and stop at reds. If they do, they're all lazy as fuck and will just give you a ticket. I'll tell you what every thing does but it's not any more difficult than riding a bike. You know how to ride a bike don't you?” “Yes I know how to ride a bike.” “Okay, I live on the second floor, 213.”
I then left for Publiks and returned. Going up to the twenty-second floor, I ran into Lisa who seemed a bit afraid to tell me something. And finally she came out with it, telling me that in January, she was moving to another state for a job opportunity.
Obviously at the center of this discussion was Lynne and Kirby, and Lisa made it clear that she was going to be taking him and wouldn't be coming back. I thought it was weird that she had to tell me that, as if the baby was only half hers, but Kirby had spent so much time with us that Lisa was probably as good as a stranger to him.
Nevertheless, I asked Lisa not to tell Lynne until a week before she was leaving and she agreed.
When I got into Lynne's apartment I saw that she was working and Kirby was asleep on her bed. I dropped the baby supplies near the bed and walked over to her, seeing that her television was on a nature channel. “Is that from the trip?,” I asked about the flower 163 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
bandanna on her head. She nodded her head. “Are the kids in their rooms?” “Sara is, David is out with some friends.” Probably out doing drugs. I told him not to do that shit.
And then when she finds out I'm the one who's going to have to talk to him.
On her computer screen I saw something pop up that she was reading before. It looked to be about the blossoming romance between a prince and a princess. She thought it was cute. “Never believe anything anyone does or says in the public eye. It's a stage for shenanigans,” I told her. She looked up at me and made sure that I saw her rolling her eyes.
“Roll your eyes at me again and I'll spoon them out of your skull.” “Just make sure they're the cherries on top of whatever fucked up desert you're eating.” “...And I used to think that you were a real lady. Now all you do is curse. It's disgusting.” She thought it funny to mimic me in my deep voice, “And I used to think that you were a real lady. Now all you do is curse. It's disgusting.”
“You know what, I'm leaving,” I said laughing. I walked away as she laughed as well and left for my apartment. As I closed her door behind me, I suddenly remembered the motorcycle deposit and went back in.
“Back already?” “I just remembered, do you want to go on a motorcycle ride?” “Like right now?” “No, probably tomorrow night.” “Sure but where did you get a motorcycle?
You don't even have a license.” After I told her about the criminal in our building she became excited to go on the motorcycle ride, and then soon after that I finally left for my apartment.
Once inside I went to my laptop and began writing a few notes. The nature channel that Lynne had been watching was on my mind as it spoke of genetic mutations. And I recall reading a year or two ago that the average number of mutations an organism goes through until it begins to fail was around three thousand.
In my notes I wanted to write down a question. Using the same line of thought, is it possible that the same could be said that an entire species has a certain number of generations until it begins to fail? So a generation is the split between you and your parents, or if you have children, you and your children, and there are only so many more generations humans can have as a species until it is difficult to survive. If true, then we must be slowly defecting as a species.
I get back up to look through the grocery bags for the Lucey Goosies when I realize some of the baby supplies were in the same bag. I opened my door, walked to the stairs and began walking up them when I caught a glimpse of something that looked like a rodent up the next flight of stairs. I went up the flight of stairs to see if I did in fact see something, but there was nothing. Then it occurred to me. I had never been this far up in the building. That thought led to the thought of wondering what was on the very top 164 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
floor.
I walked up the next seven stories thinking the thirtieth floor would be the last, but it wasn't. There seemed to be a hidden extra thirty-first floor.
When I opened the door to the thirty-first floor, the arrangement of the floor was unique to the others; there were only doors on the left, and to the right were window panes that looked out into the city. Each door that I passed had no number, so these weren't apartments, probably they were utility rooms or storage rooms for the owner of the building. Each one, too, was locked.
Turning around I looked out of the window and into the city. Already it was fading into evening. I understand the days are shorter around this time of year, but my goodness where has the day gone. Still staring, my phone began ringing. It was Lynne, and after I said “Hello” she asked me when I was going to come back up to scoop out her eyes. “In a few minutes, I forgot to give you the rest of Kirby's stuff.”
“Okay. Do you remember those strange flowers I drew a few months ago?” “What about them?” “I turned Mideena into a full painting, when I come down at midnight do you want to see it?” “Yes, I would love to, but there is just one thing I don't really understand.” “What?” “How are you going to find your way down here if you have no eyes?” She was thinking. Thinking. Thinking.
“I'll follow my nose since I know your smell.” “I don't smell that bad, do I?” “I never said you smell bad, I just said I know your smell. I have to go, Junior is calling. Smell you later.” She suddenly hung up so I put my phone in my pocket. Still looking out of the window I saw a full Moon coming into view.
The mention of her painting alongside the full Moon reminded me of a dream I had years ago that concerned the archangel Michaela. Like Michael, she was one of God's designers, but she didn't work on DNA, she was the designer of beauty, the designer of the female form and the designer of the parts of man that could love a woman. One of her most famed creations was Eve in her garden.
In a twin dream, that is a dream that mirrors another dream, the artist is Lynne. As much a creation of hers as she is mine, she created, designed and developed the parts of me that would grow to love her.
Always I had been capable of a general love, but never a specific love so romantic. I fell in love with her the way a woman falls in love with a man, doting, and sometimes frantic. In my dreams I would create and then recreate her like a being so intellectual. But never before had I ever experienced such a specific love so sexual.
On the first morning she created Mimas, the moon in the head which thinks. And every time I thought about her the memory was faded like a lost dream. On the second dusk she created Enceladus, the moon in the groin with kinks. And every time I saw her I 165 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
became excited by her existence to an extreme.
On the third night she created Tethys, the moon in the right hand that is gentle. And every time I brushed her soft body, her skin was as gentle as my touch. On the fourth dawn she created Dione, the moon in the right foot that stands fundamental. And every time we walked together we journeyed through love and I adored her so much.
On the fifth afternoon she created Rhea, the moon in the left hand that is force. And every time I seized her it was with the same unmistakable vitality she designed. On the sixth twilight she created Titan, the moon in the left foot that stands the course. And every time we ran through the wild there was no confusion that our fates intertwined.
On the seventh evening she created Iapetus, the moon in the chest that beats. With it the man would know love when he saw her sitting upon many women upon many seats.
And it was the final moon in her grand creation of a mortal man greater than dunes. And he would be drawn only to her, a Goddess dressed as a woman, the maker of moons.
THANKSGIVING
It's been nearly a month and every time I make contact with the second-floor man about the motorcycle ride, he gives me a damn excuse. Lynne is starting to think that it's not going to happen and she is starting to blame me for getting her excited about it.
I'm in my goddamn bathroom right now because she's making me wash Kirby's balls.
It's fucking weird because this little guy is just staring at me as I do it like I'm some kind of strange man he's never seen before.
After I dry him I place him on the bed and put a fresh diaper on him. Lynne had dumped some of his shirts on the bed. I grabbed a green one but as I went to put it on him he suddenly grabbed it out of my hands and threw it away. Then while on his side, he took hold of a white one and tried to put it on himself. I had to help him, but I couldn't help but think if he was showing a sign of consciousness.
In the corner of my eye I saw a shadow, and when I looked behind me, I saw Lynne standing in the doorway staring at me. When she became aware she was staring at me, she smiled, turned around, and then went back to her cooking.
When dinner was ready, she sent a message to Sara and David to come get their plates. Sara came first, got her plate, and then went back upstairs. Then came David, I assume from below since he came with mail, got his plate, and then went upstairs.
Lynne put my plate on the table and then hers and Kirby's. Then she got the final plate and brought it up to Lisa, then came back down.
As we ate, each time Kirby wanted food he clearly spoke out “mama” and Lynne fed him. And each time I took note of the charm she wore on her ring, autumn leaves that 166 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
matched the color scheme outside.
After a while, Kirby had fallen asleep and she placed him in his crib. Then going through the mail that Dave had bought, I heard her gasp. I wondered what it was until she dropped a piece of paper on the table next to me. I read it and the notice detailed that she was now legally known as “Lynnette Julien.”
I took my eyes from off the piece of paper and led it to hers. I stared at her for a small while until finally I said something after three blinks. “They spelled it with an 'a',” I told her.
The heavy weight of months spent waiting weighed heavy in her eyes as she looked from me to the paper. When she saw that I had lied to her, she looked back at me and that weight transferred, traveling from her eyes down her neck through her shoulders and into her hands. She smacked the back of my head, moving me slightly forward. Then she smacked it again, harder. On the third smack she rhythmed it into a combination as she used her other hand to smack my forehead, alternatively moving me back and forth with all the smacking.
When I was able to catch myself I grabbed both of her arms and held them, laughing at her dismay which turned to joy when I got up and moved closer to her. Letting go of her arms my arms were around her body now in the forceful way she designed, and knowing of her crescent blooms she climbed upward placing her arms on my shoulders and around my neck and her legs around my waist.
As I carried her into the bedroom, she whispered things into my ear. “I want it to be soft and slow. Romantic and gentle. And I want you to wear your wedding band...” I looked at her, “I didn't know Mrs. Julien was so bossy...” “You haven't seen nothin' yet little man.”
Bedside, she slowly dropped off of my body. We undressed eachother to nakedness and she took the ring from the drawer and I put it on. Grabbing my arms she laid me onto the bed and was soon on top of me.
As she thrusts softly and slowly I put my hands on her hips and slid them around to rest on her butt. Then I reverted them back onto her hips to hold her more firmly in her deliberate and steady movements. As she went up and down it was the most composed we had ever been and I could tell that a gentleness gave her the same pleasure as roughness but in a blossoming way.
In the process she put her hands on mine and placed them onto the bed so they would be outstretched so she could see them. Then she placed her hands on my chest as she stared at the wedding ring. Something possessed her eyes and she looked the way that I must have looked when I used to watch her years ago. A fantasy like dreams and a fixation repressed.
167 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
I rose my hands to her chest to touch her breasts, but she quickly slammed them back onto the bed where she could continue staring at the wedding ring. I knew now that any replacement of my left hand out of her sight would cause her to force it back into its previous positioning, so I left it there.
As she continued to thrust in a relaxing state, she slid her hands from off my chest, down my outstretched arms to where her hands would meet mine and she would interlock them. Though she could no longer see the wedding ring, she could feel it as she plunged her tongue into my mouth. The kissing was as sedative as her pelvic movements. Slow, sensual, secretive.
Then she unlocked our fingers and brought her hands to caress my face so she could hold it firm as she plunged her tongue deeper in my mouth. With her face slightly tilted at an angle, I was at her complete mercy and her serene lips revved my idle life.
After she removed her tongue from mine, she lifted her head slightly to hover it over mine and her new silver paintbrush necklace charm hung loose as she continued her slow, warm and calming thrusts.
A block of marble is every thing until you decide its sculpt. It is every dream imaginable until you force out of it one reality. It is every story until it unfolds into one.
And it is every woman until, chisel by chisel, she begins to take form.
Every strike is a day in her life that molded her outside the norm. Her eyes and her eyelashes perfect by reform. To describe the sensations of looking at her, I cannot even start. I can only look over her naked body, this work of art.
CHRISTMAS
Spook: Yeah, but they still taking pictures?
David: No. I ain't feel nothing in a while.
Sara: We took care that thing over the eastside. They ain't on me.
David: She been rolling around all week.
Sara: Nothing, no cars, no vans, no helicopters.
Lynne: Emily, she checked after the re-up, no problem.
Sara: We wore 'em down.
Spook: Well, what about cameras?
Dave: Nothing since the camera we took out the wall back at the place.
Lynne: My overnight guy, he been watchin', he ain't seen nothing either.
Dave: 'Sides, I think we good as long as we movin' around like this.
Sara: Back to business, I say.
[DAVE LAUGHS]
168 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
Dave: She ain't had no work in a few months. She somewhat eager.
Sara: Goddamn, right. Too much fuckin' talkin' around here lately, man. Niggas need to shut the fuck up. For real.
Spook: A'ight, first thing. We go hard at Kirby's crew. Gave 'em the chance to get on the tit, he passed. Now we bang on his corners a couple of times till he fold.
Sara: Now you talkin'.
Spook: Yeah. Next, we step to Trevor for talkin' that shit. He was a dead man when he opened his mouth. He just walkin' around not knowing it. An' I want that dicksucker. Took my money and the whole world know? Nah. He got to fall.
Lynne: Eddy rolled out in retirement and shit.
Dave: I'm hearin' somewheres south.
Spook: Bring his ass back out of retirement.
[SARA LAUGHS]
Lynne: A'ight. Yeah, a'ight. We can step that shit up, but he's goin' to be comin' at us like we comin' at him. I mean, Mordecai and them, they said let that be.
Spook: You know, the crown ain't worth much if the nigga wearin' it always gettin'
his shit took, and Mordecai oughta know that. Let him come. Yeah.
Last night, I had a dream. I was given an aerial shot of the dream which was of a funeral that took place during the rain. It was a military funeral and it was mine, which in my mind would answer why I was given an inhuman shot of it.
Lynne, Sara and Dave were all there, all dressed in black. Lynne was a bit off to the side of them, and I noticed that she wasn't crying. In fact, she had no expression at all.
Dave and Sara were taken by someone to a black car, but Lynne followed the pallbearers as they carried my casket to my grave, and as she walked by each of the soldiers, each one saluted her.
When I woke up, I couldn't help but think of the future and when it would be that it would be the last time I ever see Lynne.
The final time a common event occurs is often mistakenly attributed as being the most important occurrence of that common event in its history. That was probably a confusing way to put it, so let me re-illustrate. The Ice Mantis was a class of mantis that was approximated to have lived about 200,000 years ago. They are now extinct, but to illustrate that prior confusing sentence; the death of the final Ice Mantis would have more importance than the deaths of any Ice Mantis before it, even though that singular death was no different and just as common as the deaths of all the other Ice Mantis before it.
So again, the idea is that you can have a large number of common events, but the final time that event occurs, it will often mistakenly be attributed as being the most 169 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
important occurrence of that common event in its history. This doesn't just apply to insects, either; imagine an election where the final vote is a tie-breaker. Each vote cast has the same importance, and yet one could argue that the final vote was the most important vote in this specific circumstance because it chose the winner. Yes, of course every vote before it mattered, and yet somehow they seem as if they didn't even though they did.
If you lose a football game 23 to 20, it is such a small margin that in going back to review the tape of the game, you can't really blame one play. It's going to be a number of plays. But at the same time, say at the very end of the game a player on the losing team committed a foul that resulted in a penalty and allows the other team a greater chance at scoring, and they do score, and they win the game because of it. One could say it was because of that play and it wouldn't be false, and yet we cannot discount all of the plays that occurred before it. They are equal factors in the loss even if they seem less so. An important metric in this idea is the fact that time plays a big role in importance, with later sequences seeming to be more important than earlier sequences.
We close the door to our home thousands of times, but it's the final time that we close it that seems to matter to us most. Imagine being shot and dying on the street, and it's a total stranger who tries to help you and they are the last person you ever see in your life.
You may have only ever seen that person for ten total seconds, but they will have been some of the most important seconds in your life and that total stranger will have had an undeniable metric in your life, whatever that metric may be. But that doesn't and shouldn't make that stranger more important than any other stranger. I feel we should be more grateful every time we are allowed to open or close a door even if it's within the median, but we just aren't built that way. Humans aren't designed to have that level of gratitude.
Also, ice mantis don't really exist. They never have and they probably never will.
With early dawn still throwing its blue shade into the bedroom my first thought was of the motorcycle thief and the fact that he was still holding my money and I still had not given Lynne her motorcycle ride. By now she's probably forgotten about it, honestly.
Every time I go to the second floor and knock on his door with that stupid “Gone Fishing” sign on it, he never answers, and I know for a fact that a guy like him definitely doesn't fish.
My second thought was the fact that it was Christmas and that we would be giving Kirby and Lisa their gifts today. I didn't have anything to do with it, you know whose idea it was. And it's a shame, too, because in a couple weeks she will never see either of them ever again. At least I don't think she will.
My third thought was of Lynne and of the dream I just had that I will be writing down 170 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
soon. Looking to my side I saw her sleeping with her back toward me, and I rolled over and pressed my arm through her arm and her side and wrapped my arm around her to place it on her belly. I moved my leg so that it would rest against her stump, and when she felt me holding her she moved her bum back toward into me and rested her hand on top of mine. Feeling her stump, I rubbed my leg against it and began thinking. Duty and devotion is the only way I could ever love a woman without limits. And from that dream, at least in that life and in that version of her, the same was true of her toward me.
Six hours later the Sun was high in the air and we were one floor higher in the building. I sat on Lynne's couch as she fed Kirby food, and when Sara walked out of her room I called her over. Reaching into my pockets I took out a one-hundred dollar bill and gave it to her, then told her to get her brother. When he walked out he came over to me and I handed him a one-hundred dollar bill.
“Don't spend it on drugs,” I told him. He laughed, and when Sarah asked him what he was laughing about he said aloud while walking back to his room, “Remember sis, don't just say no to drugs, say no thank you.”
Back at the table in the kitchen, Sarah was sitting on it using her phone and I went into their freezer and took out some ice cream. I found a bowl and a spoon and went to the table. Then I looked at Lynne as she looked at me and slowly I began to scoop out some of the ice cream into the bowl. Every scoop, every spoonful, her eyes became more and more suspicious until finally I asked, “Sara, do you think your mom's eyes taste good?” “I've only had eyes once in my life and it was awful, I imagine they all taste awful.”
Lynne laughed a little as I went to place the ice cream back into the freezer. A few minutes later Sara was back in her room and Lynne had to grab something from downstairs, so it was only Kirby and I. After a few minutes of staring, I told him something I wish someone would have told me when I was younger.
“Listen, kid, no matter what they tell you, Santa Claus isn't real.” He looked at me, and then at the small Christmas tree design on the fridge, and then back at me, and I think it stuck.
When a few more minutes rolled by Lynne was still not back and I wondered what was taking her so long. I hope she didn't find something in my apartment that I'm going to need to explain.
She ended up taking so long that by the time she got back Kirby had begun his afternoon nap and I laid him to rest.
I was sitting on the couch when she sat down next to me and placed a bunch of things on the coffee table before us. A pair of broken handcuffs, five royal cards, the drawing we made on the train ride back to the airport. And followed by these souvenirs were 171 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
various photos David had taken the entire time. There was a picture of Kirby who while in their room at the inn was holding one of Dave's controllers. When I saw it I thought about how in a few weeks his joker card and this picture were going to bring a sense of nostalgia.
The next picture was one taken while we were on the royal Flanagan tour. It was a picture of a room with a piano in it, said to be the room that Boden Valade composed his masterpieces in. And then there was a random picture of Sara, who took a picture of herself while staring at the mirror with a horror mask on. This was most likely a picture to make David laugh while going through his camera roll.
Then there was the picture of Lynne and I sitting down together at the fair to ride a ride called the “Tunnel of Love.” The final three pictures was of Lynne alone, and they must have been at her request because she clearly posed for them; one in a blue dress, one in a red dress and one in a white dress.
I took the one in a white dress and looked at it more closely and was suddenly reminded of a dream I had of her where we walked down a dark street, but she was a ghostly woman in a white dress.
Possessed with a darkness around her eyes and with the spirit of a child, I take my lashes black and my sugar wild. Her divinity drives me to obsession with her lovely shining hair, I take my goddess insane and my diamond rare. Each day I uncover a new layer that reveals something drastic, I take my beauty real and my lady classic.
Sometimes I wake up from nightmares of her and she is a force unbreakable, I take my dream bad and my desire insatiable. Never alluring without purpose yet she is destructive, I take my skirt modest and my lingerie seductive. All through the lonely night I long to see her expressions of light, I take my smile kind and my sunrise bright.
We play mind games with eachother and her control I am under, I take my love lightning and my romance thunder. She lifts my spirits and comfort she gives oft, I take my woman strong and my flower soft. Every year is a new book of adventures fun serious or curious, I take my ocean deep and my queen mysterious. Like an elegant natural disaster whose power is tragic, I take my tornado royal and my wife fantastic.
NEW YEAR'S EVE
Two months now, and the motorcycle bandit still has yet to tell me anything of real worth. He says he will have a new bike within two weeks at the most, but I think he said something like that two weeks ago.
Already it was deep evening on the day before the new year, and against all odds I woke up from a dream that perhaps would begin the evening of a certain dreamline. Prior to this dream, which concerned myself being incarcerated on an island with other serial 172 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
killers, I had only the dreams of my incarceration and court proceedings, in which I learned I was imprisoned for the murders of a poor immigrant refugee family. I noted that this was not the same life as the other one where I was a prisoner because there was no indication of a death row or solitary confinement here.
The evening came as I lived the dream where I murdered the family. One by one I watched each of them as they went about their day; a father, a mother and infant son, a daughter and a son. Knowing their schedules so well, I was able to kidnap each one throughout the day before any of the other family members realized, and by night fall they were all hanging in my basement on meat-hooks.
The father is the only one who wasn't already dead as I dragged him to my home. I pick up his body, and even after I have set him on the meat-hook, he is still conscious.
His eyes are white with death, and examining his suffering lead me to curious thoughts. I had spent so much time watching him that I knew his every move, and sometimes I knew what he was going to do before he even did it.
Through the theorized atomic radiation, all atoms in the network will share positional data. And each atom having knowledge of the laws of physics and historical data about all of the other atoms in their network, such as their last known speed or velocity, will be able to calculate where the atom in question will end up. So because it knows the positional information of other atoms, and because it's aware of the physical laws of the universe, it also knows where another atom in the network will be next based on recent data such as speed or velocity.
Does this mean the universe knows the future? If it's able to calculate where every atom will go next, I don't see why not. And if the universe is able to calculate even just a few seconds of the future, with this ability, why wouldn't it be able to also calculate the next minute, the next hour, the next millennium or eternity?
By the time I was done ruminating the father's eyes had closed and he had deceased, and I went about my way to watch mother and infant. Have you ever wondered if I was a serial killer? One of the more stranger things you have read in my compositions is probably finding out that I am not. But doesn't that make it all the more eerie? To know that on any given day, someone like you could walk past someone like me.
When night settled so did Lynne when she came down to my apartment with a sleeping Kirby. Going through a drawer in the kitchen which housed silverware, I told Lynne to come into the kitchen. She must have heard the metallic shuffling, for she soon asked me in a concerned way, “Are you going to scoop out my eyes?”
As she walked into the kitchen I thought of my mind and its bizarre thinking of putting her on a meat-hook. When she got to me the silverware were all in order and I asked her if she has ever had a dream or nightmare about me that she would never want 173 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
to tell me about. She thought about it and then told me about a recurring dream she has had of me for probably the last four years. In the dream I am always disabled or handicapped in some way; I have a prosthetic leg, or I'm paralyzed and wheelchair-bound, or I'm blind, et cetera and so forth.
The next moment found Lynne laying on my couch and me sitting on a chair across from her with my legs crossed.
“Are you still an amputee in these dream?,” I inquired. “Yes, but I am always more capable than you.” There was a silence.
“So do you think this is an indication of guilt? That you feel that you are not enough because I am not crippled but you are? Or do you think this is a nurturer's mentality, where you pity me and want to take care of me so you can feel useful?”
“...Actually if I'm being honest here, which I am, I think it's more about control. If you are crippled, you will need me. You will be less likely to cheat on me, and you would be grateful that I even see you. You'll stay home all day and I won't have to worry about you really having a life outside of mine. And I know that last part is true because it kind of already is, you barely ever leave the apartment and that's something that I like because I will always know where you are.”
I knew she was being honest, which is why I was suspicious of the possibility that this was the worst dream she has ever had of me. “This isn't the worst dream you have ever had of me, though, is it?” “It's not and I will never tell you the worst dream.” I bowed my head, “Fair enough.” I'm sure this was only the second worst, and there was one far worse.
“Well, I'm not physically disabled. I might be mentally handicap, but I am ridiculously abled,” I grabbed her from off the couch and picked her up. In picking her up her pink shoecasing became loose and fell off. I let her down to put it back on, and in doing so she said “You're my strong little boy.”
She got back up with a smirk on her face and I stared at her. Then slowly, I raised my right hand. There was a commotion as she began running after my hand went up and I chased her until she found refuge in my bedroom and locked the door behind her.
“You might not be afraid of me, but your ass still is,” I told her. “That's why my ass is staying in here until your hand goes down,” she replied.
My toolbox was in that room, but I went back into the kitchen and found something that would help me to unlock the bedroom door. With it, I began to work on the doorknob and I could hear her yelling at me to stop, but those words would fall on deaf ears.
After school, every class is over and you've been walking home. Your books held up to your chest wearing your yellow dress, you know that soon you won't be alone.
Colorful leaves falling, that's when you see his car drive near. Smiles traded as you open 174 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
the door. Get inside. Give him a kiss. And firmly he grabs your rear. At the drive-in tonight's a movie playing but you can't follow the plot. You've been messin' around with your boyfriend; the top pulled down, sitting in the back seat, his hands traveling all along you has got you feeling hot. Every day you're a good girl but come sundown suddenly you're not. He's not that much of a bad boy but when you're in his world, he makes you feel like a bad girl divine. And when the full moon rises and darkness permeates time, you're trapped in his reality where your eyes glow, soft and psycho, and yellow magic reflects off the river in moonshine. High-school sweetheart's blood pumps fast in a scene meant for two, and in a jubilee you'll still be coming here, in this lovely and lonely spot he only shares with you.
JANUARY
While I was in my kitchen someone knocked on my door. I answer it and find that it is David. This was most unusual because Dave never came down here. If my memory serves me correctly, the last time he was here was when Elway was here and they had that partial power outage.
“You should come upstairs,” Dave told me. I asked why and he told me that after Lisa came to their house to get Kirby, she told Lynne that she was moving away. “Then mom started asking her a bunch of questions and Lisa snapped at her and left.”
Walking up the stairs and past Lisa's apartment I could hear Kirby crying and I could also hear the faint sounds of a man speaking.
When I got in their apartment I learned that the man was Kirby's father, Lisa's boyfriend.
Lynne had been sitting on her couch, slumped with her cheek resting on the palm of her tired hand. We could hear Kirby crying hysterically through the walls. Lynne herself had no emotion at all. When Lynne is emotional, that is something that I understand.
When she isn't, I leave it alone. I feel bad for people who are overly emotional about things, and part of that guilt is because I usually don't have to suffer in that same way.
I was in my thoughts for a while until I came back to reality and I found Lynne the same way I had left her. Without a soul, without a spirit, wretched with a veil of vanity.
Every one has the ability to self-reflect. It is a privilege that our ancestors fought for. But sometimes that ability is best left avoided.
I spent another hour there and the whole time we could all hear him crying. And then their door slammed shut and Kirby's cries followed a straight line past our door, through the hallway, and dissipated near the elevator. His cry was faint until it was gone altogether, but for Lynne I'm sure it would persist well beyond the week like phantom 175 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
limbs do to the mind.
Her eyes were like suns but now each one like the moon. Life within her was like spring but soon winter will kill her bloom. She flowed like a clean river until pollution ran her river a dirty white. She was as warm as the day but soon will turn as cold as night.
In a blue dress she was a blue sky until a storm came and turned it gray. A flourishing flower she was, a promise in bloom, until she began to wilt today.
176 | GONE FISHING
M.B. JULIEN
Chapter 79
FADE TO BLACK
3:2:8:79
Princess Ivy watches as military operations prepare to defend the royal palace. (2019)
FEDORA took hold of her riot shotgun after putting on her bullet-proof vest and had every intention of using the weapon, but in walking down the hallway which had been buried in broken rubble, King Matthew told her to put down her weapon. “It's over, Dora,” he said looking up at the caved-in roof.
With anger, Dora handed the shotgun over to him, and then followed him as he walked back over to some of the others in the family.
Queen Janet had been holding their young son, Prince Lucas, and was speaking to their teenage daughter, Princess Ivy, when he and Fedora appeared back in the room.
“What's going to happen to us?,” Ivy asked. “They're going to fucking hang us, that's what,” Slant said emotionally. “Whoa, hold on,” said Brett, “we don't need that kind of talk in here. If we just settle down, do as they say, we will make it out of this in one piece.”
And suddenly all of the royal family heard something thud onto the ground below them. Sonya, who was sitting next to her husband, Robert, and who had her daughter, Diane, in her lap, was the first and only person who saw the stun grenade roll toward them before it went off.
Everyone was blinded from the flash and there was an incessant ringing in their ears.
Various members of the family were knocked to the ground by military and others were shouted at to not move. And for a moment, Edward's clothes had been lit on fire from the grenade until it was taken out by a soldier.
“I can't see!,” Crystal cried as she tripped and fell over a foreign object on the ground.
Ten minutes later, all of the family was positioned in a row, their sights and sounds restored as the soldiers cleared what was left of their warn-torn palace. When the commanding officer was sure the property was safe, he allowed King Anthony and his queen, Queen Alexandra, to enter the property to address the monarchy he had conquered.
They both walked over immediately to King Matthew, and the king moved forward to speak to him. Anthony, who was wearing a white disposable face mask, lowered the mask so he could speak more clearly.
“Tell me, Matt, do you like celebrations?,” the king asked. Feeling that he was being disrespected in some way, King Matthew did not respond. After King Anthony saw that Matthew was not going to answer his question, he smiled, almost laughed, and then 177 | FADE TO BLACK
M.B. JULIEN
turned away to walk out of the destroyed castle. In walking away, his queen followed him, and when Alexandra noticed Monica looking at her, she brushed by her saying “I thought you were supposed to be dead.” Like her king before her, she did not respond to the statement.
Once Anthony and Alexandra were gone, the highest ranking soldier ordered his other soldiers to escort the Flanagans into private rooms where they could change into black attire.
One soldier escorted an elderly Jeffrey into a room where because he was so old the soldier had to help him into a black suit. Another soldier followed June into her own room, where she switched into the same long black dress she had worn to her twin sister's funeral. Another soldier followed Queen Minor Sophia, who too was aged but was not so aged that she needed help switching into a black dress that was tied by a ribbon at the waist. Another soldier escorted Edward and his wife of eight years, Jasminne, along with their son, Kyle, into a private room where each of them switched into the mandatory black attire.
After every one had dressed into black, they were all brought to where they were before and lined up. One by one, they were to walk up to a soldier who was carrying a bag and drop their cellphones in it.
Frederick was the first to do so, then followed his wife, Elizabeth. Together they had lost very private photos which were not stored anywhere else. Then came their son, John, and his own wife, Carla, who was pregnant, and together they lost many intimate conversations; audio, text and otherwise. Then came John's sister, Sandy, and her husband, Xavier, and their child, Paul, who they thought was much too young to have a phone of his own otherwise.
After the depositing of the communication devices, they were then directed to another soldier who in a bag and in his hand held black disposable face masks. George and Tiffany, along with their son, Daniel, were the first to obtain these masks. Then came the Leons and their ex-wives, Courtney and Erica, of whom the wives only ever saw their husbands because of their children, Walter and Anna, who too succeeded them in obtaining these black disposable masks. Then came Marc and Mark, one not knowing the secret of the other even still.
The final task before transport was to brand the Flanagans as prisoners of war. The method was quick and painless, a simple device was pointed at the back of their hands and while they were marked as prisoners nothing physical was left on their hand. The first to receive this mark was Anastasia, then her husband, Jay, then their son, River, and his wife, Susan. Followed was Kevin and his wife, Bernice. And the final two were Arlene and Jessica, and with this, the royal Flanagans were going to exit their palace as 178 | FADE TO BLACK
M.B. JULIEN
royalty forever and enter into the unforgiving world as plebeians.
Seated in their coach outside, King Anthony and Queen Alexandra watched as their army directed the Flanagans out of the palace. Some of the environment was decimated by war, but even-so, along the royal street there were crowds of spectators, much of whom were residents of the country and were the commoners who were part of the Flanagan's kingdom which they ruled over. There waited men, women and children to watch the black parade.
There were tanks all along the street, and as the Flanagans made it to the street one by one, they were divided. The elderly, the women and the children were to all be carried by the numerous tanks while the able-bodied men would walk. “Don't worry,” Queen Janet said to her five year-old son, Prince Lucas, “this is just one of our parties.” Through the young boy's mind was confusion, because he did not remember any such parties being so drab. He always remembered being happy during parties, and was always told to wave at the people to show them that he liked them.
Finally, the queen and the young prince were helped onto the top of a tank, and once they were situated, the tank accelerated.
As the able-bodied men began their march, other elderly and women and children were placed on the tops of other tanks, and they too, once situated, accelerated, and so began the long procession before them.
This ceremony of sorts was being recorded by camera-men, photographed by photographers and broadcast by networks for the world to see. Two such men who were once part of royalty but now removed were Abraham Flanagan, who at age twenty-nine left the family and moved to Canada after a dispute, and Richard, who could no longer tolerate Monica and the persistent rumors that she had faked her death.
Along with these two individuals so did the world watch, too, and so many people in the crowds, wearing their disposable face masks to protect themselves from a deadly disease, held out their cellular telephones to record the procession.
Prince Lucas, still confused by the ordeal, observed all of the spectators as he rode past them. In the wake of his observation, he noticed a girl similar to his age staring at him. When the girl became aware that the prince was looking at her, too, she suddenly became shy. In detecting her shyness, Lucas slowly rose his hand and gestured to her, saying hello without actually saying hello. The girl gestured back, waving at him, and soon he smiled. Other children around the girl noticed her, and in seeing that she was waving at the prince, some of the children waved back at him.
When Queen Janet saw her son's raised hand, she looked out into the crowd to see who or what he was waving at, and she saw the pack of the children waving at the prince.
Almost instinctively, she too began waving, and she was met with reply from the gentle 179 | FADE TO BLACK
M.B. JULIEN
waving of a woman in the crowd. And then another woman, and another woman.
Some of the Flanagans who were on a tank behind the queen and the prince noticed the waving, and some of the spectators near the other spectators who were gesturing noticed these gestures, and very soon the gestures had spread from tank to tank and from packs of crowds to packs of crowds until the identity of the black parade slowly took on a brightening color.
King Anthony and Queen Alexandra, sitting in their coach behind all of the tanks, noticed the gesturing of the Flanagans, but were confused. They were perplexed by the bizarre nature of the Flanagans and of their waving to the crowds as if they were still royalty and were not prisoners of war. Nevertheless, in their own mind, the Flanagans always were, are, and always will be the masters of their namesake.
As the crowds waved back at the Flanagans, some of the packs actually began cheering and whistling and celebrating their arrival. By now, the Flanagan men who were walking were also waving to the crowds just as their tank-riding counterparts were.
As the parade grew in brightness and in color, so were revived the ghosts of the Flanagan legacy. Sitting next to June on a tank was Summer, who smiled and waved at those who loved her. Walking behind King Matthew were the kings who came before him; King Brian III, King Brian II and King Brian. They had all waved in approval of the people in their kingdoms.
Just in front of Leonel and Leonardo walked Prince Kenneth and one of his sons, Jeremy, as they greeted wholeheartedly those who adored them in the crowds. And from the tank which rolled just beside them, sat atop it, was Jeffrey, who just like his father and brother waved agreeably.
Near one of the tanks in the front were Sabrina and Douglas. Doug marched while Sabrina sat on a tank, both waving at the crowds who were obsessed not just with them, but even of their storied romance.
In the middle of the procession walked Cassandra and Brittany. Neither one to be outdone by the other, they seemed to be most attention-seeking of the Flanagans and made sure their presence was known as they both sat on the top of the same tank.
Watching them was Princess Aubry, and although she did not flail around like the two women she was watching, she felt as if she didn't need to because in her own world and in her own mind she was more beautiful than the both of them.
Near the end was Queen Brigid and her mother and father, Oliver and Reagan. All on tanks, they waved to the crowd who chanted their names. Only Vivian's name was chanted more loudly, who sat on the tank behind them and threw the great crowd of spectators invisible kisses as they roared.
Princess Ivy stayed on a tank that was close to her father, King Matthew, and he 180 | FADE TO BLACK
M.B. JULIEN
executed his own gestures as he walked next to his great, great grandfather, King Matthew, who adored Princess Ivy and watched his wife, Queen Heather, as she smiled immensely to the spirited crowds.
Walking slowly because of his great weight was Slant, his black suit barely fitting him, and while he did not wave or smile at the crowds, he nodded consistently in recognition of the crowds admiration for the Flanagans.
And finally, walking in the very front of the first tank was Princess Dorothy and Fedora, who was dressed in her own black suit and wearing her black fedora hat and smoking a cigarette with her face mask pressed underneath her chin. She knew the crowds were there, cheering and applauding the Flanagans, but she barely paid them any attention. The only person who she intentionally noticed was a small girl who looked at her intensely. Stopping, because she was so far ahead of everyone else, she dropped her cigarette and put it out with her dress shoe, and then winked at the little spectator, and then turned to watch the oncoming tank and the rest of the procession.
In final terms this was indeed the end of the Flanagan saga, monarchy, rule; but like all great family lines, they did not just wrestle with their own biology, but too with their own inheritance itself.
King Albert and Queen Meredith ride on a horse in parade after the Island War. (1871)
181 | FADE TO BLACK
M.B. JULIEN
Chapter 80
CRAZY EIGHTS
3:2:8:80
“I don't know, but Sarah said she saw her looking at one of the pictures I took of Kirby.” “What happened with Lisa?” “She was asking her questions. Like where is she moving to, if she could visit him.” “What did Lisa say?” “She got mad and yelled at her and then left.” “But what did she say?” David hesitated. “She said if she wants a baby she should just have her own.”
I didn't reply after that and continued painting my side of the wall. David and I were in a residential area in New Paris and painting the inside of a new home. I wasn't going to take the job because I didn't need the money, but I knew Dave would have wanted the opportunity at making some money since he wasn't legal working age. I told him we could split it, but I will probably in all likelihood give him all of it. I'm pretty sure he's still talking to the girl he met on vacation and if he is he's going to need it. If not, then I guess he can just buy drugs.
When we were done for the day, we put all of the items where they were before and headed out of the house to find that it was snowing. We found the subway and waited for it in a cold that wasn't particularly harsh.
By the time we got back to San Rashida it was dark out, and in walking off the train, onto the platform and down the stairs, I saw a homeless veteran sitting on a bench. Before I could say anything to him, David walked nearer to him and gave him a bill, then we exited through the doors.
Sometimes I feel guilty being in this family. I feel guilty because I know that their behaviors are in part because they know me, but I don't want David to some day help someone because he got a part of his nature from me and that same day he pays dearly for helping another person. If helping someone costed him his life, like it did my partner, I don't know how I would live with that. And the same of course rings true for Sara.
For Lynne, I took away her house and her car, and because I am not a social person I have turned her into somewhat of a recluse. The house wasn't her house but it was. She was disappointed about me selling it and was upset because she had always wanted a home, especially for her children. Her vehicle may perhaps not be as big of a deal but it was still basically an ultimatum that I gave her. And while she was always basically an ambivert, she has no friends now except for me. But I reconcile with myself in knowing no one else loves her as deeply as I do.
As we walked through snowing San Rashida I thought about how I've barely spoken to her since Kirby left. It's taken me back to the years when I slept alone, and while I do miss her, I forgot how comfortable it is to sleep alone. Not that I don't like her saliva, but 182 | CRAZY EIGHTS
M.B. JULIEN
sometimes she drools on my chest.
“When you get home, text me and let me know how your mom seems,” I said to Dave as I got off the elevator. But there was no need for that for when I entered my apartment she was sitting on the couch watching television. A moment later David texted me telling me she wasn't home.
“How did it go?,” she asked. “Good, should finish the entire house in six or seven days.” She didn't say anything after and I went into the bedroom. After I get in the bedroom I immediately noticed a canvas near the window. It has been a considerable amount of time since she's painted anything. Not too long ago she showed me a painting of a strange flower that was converted from a drawing, but that must have been the first time in a long time that she showed me anything new. And seeing this, maybe she is back to it.
The painting itself looked to be complete and was of the two of us having a picnic, but we were aged near death. I took it off the stand to get a better visual of it and in inspecting it I wondered why this was the idea she chose to bring to life. Of course it was Kirby's going away that made her sad, so sad she felt the need to occupy herself with perhaps her favorite hobby, and in that I wonder why she painted the scene of our picnic many decades into the future.
When I put the painting back on the stand, I felt something on the tip of my finger.
When I look at my finger, I see a bit of blue paint on it. I look back at the painting and then I take it from off the stand again, and it was just as I suspected; flipping it in reverse I saw that there was another painting on the back.
I only noticed the dualities when I saw the painting on the back. In the picnic painting, it was day and we were sitting on a white blanket, but in the painting on the back it was night and we were on a red blanket. The day picnic was pure and innocent, but the night picnic was impure; we were close to the ages we are now and both nude, both vertical and her sitting on me with the strong suggestion we were engaged not just emotionally but physically. The physical engagement was uncomplicated, but the emotional engagement was tangled like eight.
At this thought the door opened and she stepped inside, looking at the painting I was holding and then looking at me. “Dream?,” I asked. “Nope, good-old fashioned imagination,” she answered. The masking ambience of green success.
I put the painting back on the stand and then looked at her again, and she stared back at me. It was strange, awkward, the most uncomfortable we both have probably been in a long time in each other's presence, and then she disappeared. I then wandered into my kitchen and thought to myself that this must have been how she felt when I disappeared.
This will be another night when she sleeps upstairs instead of down here, and it has 183 | CRAZY EIGHTS
M.B. JULIEN
really given me pause. It makes me wonder if any type of sexual activity will remind her that sexual intercourse has the possibility of leading to pregnancy, and a pregnancy has the possibility of a newborn baby, and a newborn baby will remind her of Kirby.
A few minutes later I went into my bedroom, turned off the light, took off all of my clothes and laid down to sleep. When I fell into a dream I saw that I was in a palace, a grandly decorated hallway with arched windows and drapes that blew in from the dark wind outside. All of the lights were off but the hallway was dimly lit by the blue moonlight, otherwise this was a place that was dark without moons.
When one has a position of authority, or when one has wealth, power and fame, they need to be better than the average person, but that is almost never the case, and it makes sense that it isn't because often the person did immoral things to gain that status. These are the people who put all of their validation in the external world; their possessions, their physical appearance, their status. There is nothing wrong with validation, even a person like me seeks some form of validation, but I take pride in knowing that my validation comes from within, from my mind and my dreams and the way I treat others.
I will always write about poverty. I will write about it until I die or it dies before me.
And I will write about how power isn't locking someone up or winning a war, it's about being able to talk to someone and being so persuasive and so wise that they have no choice but to listen to you. And I will write about the destruction of classes and monarchies and the elite, because growing up, communism was a dirty word, and I have to say, it's getting cleaner by the day.
I promise you, the word poverty will show up in every composition, and if one day poverty is finally abolished, then I will write about it as history.
Waking up in the morning I heard someone knocking on the door. When I answered it I saw that it was the motorcycle thief carrying two helmets and wearing stupid sunglasses. He tried to hand me the helmets but I only looked at him until he said
“What?”
“First you made her wait three months for this, and now you got me taking her out for the ride in the dead of winter when it's freezing outside. I want a discount or a refund,” I said to him. After a moment he agreed to give me back twenty dollars, but I said forty.
He countered with twenty-five and the pair of sunglasses he was wearing, and even though I don't wear sunglasses I took them and the discount. After he handed me the sunglasses, I nearly called him a buffoon but instead said “Thank you,” and he handed me the keys to the motorcycle in the garage. Before he left, I asked him, just out of curiosity, how much it would cost to “rent” the bike for three nights, and he told me it would cost one-fifty a night.
An hour later after Sara and Dave would have already left for school, I left my 184 | CRAZY EIGHTS
M.B. JULIEN
apartment and went upstairs to Lynne's. I left with a meter-stick and put on the glasses that I had recently acquired.
I knock on her door and wait for her answer. I hear her moving through the apartment and finally the knob turns and the door opens. She looks at me confused for a moment and soon I begin speaking in an elderly man's voice who was lost and that was carefully orchestrated to be adorable.
“Hello, miss, I can't seem to find my home, could you help me?,” I walked inside and she moved out of my way as I began waving the meter-stick around. One sudden wave knocked a book off of a stand. “Oh dear, I'm so sorry,” I said. After she saw that the book had been knocked down, she bent over to pick it up and restore its placement. Another such wave caught a resting towel and it was now hanging on the end of the meter stick.
Quickly when she saw this she went to the end of the meter stick and took the towel off, then grabbed my shoulder to direct me. “Sir, please, let me help you,” she said, and she guided me to a seat on the couch.
Sitting with me, she asked me where I lived. I told her. “That's miles from here!,” she exclaimed, “how'd you get stuck so far all the way out here in San Rashida?,” she asked.
“Well, you see,” I took off my sunglasses and looked around the room wildly with no aim in my expression, “I'm completely blind, can't see a damn thing,” I told her. “Don't worry, I'll get you home,” she said, and before she could get up from off the couch I pulled her back down, saying “Before you do that, let me get a good look at you. I always like to know who I'm talking to.”
I put the meter-stick aside and used my hands to examine her face. I began at her cheeks, then her forehead, then her nose, then the contour of her jaw and finally I could feel her smiling as I touched her lips. I could see it, too, but that was beside the point.
While I had gotten her to smile with this ruse, she did not laugh until I told her that she had the prettiest face I had ever had the privilege of touching.
It wasn't much but she was slowly coming back to form, and at one point she told me that after Kirby left, she didn't cry once. “You didn't cry? Really?,” I asked her. I also later learned that not that long ago, Kirby said “Spook.” At the end, the conversation shifted and it felt like she had an energy that was going to put her sadness to bed for good. “I did my mourning, and I understand that as much as I loved Kirby, I don't want another child. And I know that I will always have one baby to take care of anyway,” she took the sunglasses off of me and put them on herself. “Where did you get these, anyway, you don't ever wear sunglasses.” “Motorcycle guy finally got another bike, so Madame Julien will be finally going for the ride tonight.” “Well it's freezing outside but Madame Julien will make due,” she finished.
At two in the morning with a darkness pervading the city I was in my apartment 185 | CRAZY EIGHTS
M.B. JULIEN
searching for the motorcycle keys. After finding them I sent a message to Lynne telling her to meet me in the garage when she was ready.
When I get to the motorcycle I find that its colors are silver and gold. Standing there, I placed the motorcycle helmet on my head but it felt strange and I felt like it would be difficult driving with it on, so I took it off and put on the sunglasses.
When I heard the elevator open, I looked up at the convex mirror and briefly saw Lynne look around in search of me, and soon I called out “Lashes” so she would find me.
When she got to me I explained to her some things.
“Bike's not registered. We crash it or get pulled over it's on us and we don't know him. He'll deny everything. Any costs, that's on us, he gets motorcycles every other month. Cops don't like the paperwork. Nine times out of ten they'll just tell us to get legal. You see cops around here late at night don't usually pull people over so we just drive the speed limit and stop at reds. If they do, they're all lazy as fuck and will just give us a ticket.” “...Got it.”
I took the helmet and placed it on her head and brought it down until it was secure. A woman ultimately just wants to feel like she is worth something and be allowed to live with dignity. I don't know that a woman really cares too much about being respected by a partner, respect seems to be more important in the dynamic between men to men, but in the dynamic between men and women, especially if it is a romantic dynamic, I believe women are far more concerned with being honored.
“Where's your helmet?,” she asked from underneath the mask. “I'm too dangerous for a helmet,” I told her. She looked at me, kneeled down to grab the other helmet, then took the sunglasses off of my face and placed the helmet on my head and brought it down until it was secure.
I got on the motorcycle first, then she got on after me and hugged my body. “You want to see something cool?,” I asked her. I had looked up online how to do a burnout, and in the moments following, for the first time in my life I was a public disturbance. The rear tire cycled against the pavement as I revved the engine and the motorcycle vibrated until smoke began to slowly rise from it.
After a few seconds, I heard some kind of sound coming out of Lynne's helmet. I stopped the engine, turned my head half around, then asked, “Did you say something?”
She only quickly nodded her head sideways. I looked forward again and started the process of the burnout again, but again I heard something from her only a few seconds after. I looked back, but I didn't ask anything this time because probably I was just hearing things.
After enough time, the burnout had us completely covered in a cloud of smoke. I eventually released and then accelerated, leaving the fog dancing behind us, and exited 186 | CRAZY EIGHTS
M.B. JULIEN
through the entry of the parking garage. Turning right, and then right again, we rode through the midnight street that would lead to the Paradise Port bridge. The streetlights lit up the road with pale orange lights like the moonlight lit up that enchanted hallway with royal blue. In that dream, watching the drapes flow inward, I could feel the ghosts that once lived there and the rich history of that place. And what I couldn't feel in the palace I saw with my eyes, intricate designs as deliberate as her dresses. Love and romance, it is truly the queen's domain, and a king, he is only allowed to play in it.
187 | CRAZY EIGHTS