Archive for the ‘Series’ Category
Unanchored (Part Three)
Thursday, February 18th, 2010
For parts one and two of this story please visit my author archives or click here:
http://www.dailycabal.com/2009/12/unanchored/
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Belinda and I walked along Merrick Road. Passing the site of the where the old Cajun man’s shoe repair store had been I felt a pang. I had only been away a day but now I knew I could never touch anything here again.
The ghost of the old Cajun man was sitting on the bus stop bench outside the house with the telephone pole with flower wreath on it making motions like he was feeding the pigeons. The birds poked in the sidewalk cracks looking for anything edible.
“His name is Roland,” Belinda said. “Call to him.”
My pang worsened. I didn’t know where it was I was feeling it. There was no “me” left to have a pang in the gut. I had been shopping in this man’s store for years and I did not know his name. The dentist’s office and chain store sandwich shop, which now stood in the stores place, added an unsightly insult to my injury.
“Call to him,” Belinda repeated. “He needs you. He is too far gone for me to reach him.”
“Roland?” I asked. “Hello. How are you today?”
As he looked up the pigeons took flight in a disturbed flutter.
“You can see me, mon cherie?” he said. “I never knew you knew my name.”
“Ask him to come to you. Take his hand,” Belinda said.
I slowly extended my palm.
“You must be lonely,” I said. “Come.”
He stood, walked over to me, and took my hand.
As his fingers closed around mine Belinda removed her crystal rod from her pocket and waved it in the air. Roland, Belinda and I disappeared and reappeared in the cave. Men and women in trench coats like Belinda surrounded Roland. With crystal rods they directed him, like an errant cattle to a dark alcove of the cave. Roland ambled into the darkness with a strange obedience. There was a flash of light and I knew he was gone. Where I did not know.
“Why did you do that?” I screamed.
“We were only helping,” Belinda said. From the look on her face I knew she was lying. They were only helping themselves and using me, I realized. But why? I only knew it had to stop. It had to stop now.
-End of Part Three-
The Dolls’ Crusade
Monday, February 15th, 2010
This is a sequel to The Cabbage-Patch God
After Kayla’s adoration elevated the cabbage-patch doll to godhood, the spontaneous creation of new deities ceased. Kayla ate with the doll, slept with Her (although the God arose and engaged in divine activities while Her creator slept), even put the doll on the bathroom counter when Mother gave Kayla her bath.
For the first week or so the Cabbage-Patch God consolidated Her power over the other toys and commanded them to seek out new worshippers beyond the playroom. This was not particularly successful. Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy formed a colorful team, but they were easily swayed from the one true path. They had to be recommitted to the faith every night. On the third night the African mask over the fireplace convinced them to sacrifice the glass candy bowl to it and they were confined to the playroom henceforth. The Buddha by the front door persuaded a squad of plastic soldiers to renounce violence. They founded a monastery under the dragon’s-foot credenza. Several stuffed animals embarked on a pilgrimage to the den to liberate the 10-point buck, but were unable to remove it from the wall.
The failure of Cabbage Patchism to spread wasn’t for lack of miracles. The Cabbage-Patch God parted the shag on the carpet in front of the loveseat. On the west side of the room the threads leaned west and on the east side they leaned east.
“The vacuum can do that,” the African mask said, “should we worship it?”
The God rotated all the pictures on the wall 5° clockwise. She used the shag carpet to make crop circles. She commanded all of the windows to stick shut, and the next day to refuse to stay shut. She caused the telephone answering machine to leap off the end table and crawl under the couch. Everything in the house (except the obtuse humans) recognized the Cabbage-Patch God’s divine power. The dearth of converts did not result from a failure of belief. The problem seemed to be that many household objects just did not get the concept of worship. (Unlike toys, which were apparently anthropomorphic enough to share this trait with humans.)
The Cabbage-Patch God had a sinking feeling that, as worshippers, toys didn’t quite count. Kayla was Her only human worshipper, and her long-term loyalty was in doubt. Gods hear everything their worshippers say about them, and that morning Kayla told Mother that the Cabbage-Patch God’s dress was “ugly.” Something would have to be done.
The end