By Paloma Moonjava

                                                                 Chapter One

I was told I would never amount to nothin’. My daddy told me that. My mama never told me nothin’ cuz I never knew my mama. She died when I was in her belly and the doctor had to cut me out. I think that’s why my daddy never really liked me much account of I killed my mama. I think he loved me, but I don’t think he liked me ever. He did love my mama. Sometimes he’d sit and hold the one picture he had of her and look real sad. It was of my mama on a swing danglin’ from ropes on a tree. She was wearin’ a real pretty dress. I think the dress was white and had little green flowers on it. I was never sure account of it was in black and white. More brown and yellow, really. The picture was so old and the way my daddy cried over it, it was all stained and greasy from his hard workin’ hands and his hard cryin’ tears.

But my mama looked real fine. Her dark hair was in pretty waves, framin her face. She had a beautiful smile, showin’ straight teeth. She was wearin’ lipstick in that picture. It was prolly a real pretty shade of red, but it looked black in the old photo. I bet her eyes were brown like mine. I couldn’t never tell for sure and I never asked my daddy. I only know my mama’s name cuz it’s writ on the back of the picture; Althea. Isn’t that prettiest name you ever heard? My daddy gave m the name Marie, after my mama’s middle name, Althea Marie. That’s what is says on the picture. Althea Marie, July 1922. I was born 5 months later, so I was with my mama in that picture. It always made me feel real nice knowin’ I am with her in the only image I ever seen of her. I imagine she was a real nice lady. From her smile, she had to be.

My daddy was from Kentucky and on account of him raisin’ me, I guess that’s how I ended up with a deep southern drawl, just like him. I don’t notice it but I’ve had lotsa people ask me what part of the south I’m from, haha.

I grew up on a hog farm outside a real small town in the middle of Indiana called Langsdale. There was about 300 people livin’ there back then. We was a poor farm town, but we was all real close, like kin. Those of us that weren’t really kin felt like we was. My daddy worked hard and he made me work hard too. He didn’t give one rat’s ass that I was a girl. He made me pull my weight. I got up before sunrise ever’ mornin’ and helped feed all them smelly hogs. I didn’t mind it too much though. You get so used to the smell of that nasty hog shit that you don’t even notice it anymore. I’m sure most days I went around reekin’ of sweat and hogs, but nobody ever said nothin’ cuz we prolly all smelled the same bad way.

I remember one mornin’ it was real cold outside and there was a bad ice storm the night before. I was helpin’ Daddy feed them ol’ smelly hogs and I slipped on some of that frozen hog shit, smackin’ my head real hard on the ground. Next thing I remember I was wakin’ up in my bed with a bag of water on my head. I got up and wandered around the house shouting, “Daddy!” but he wasn’t nowhere to be found. I finally trekked outside, feelin’ real wobbly and disoriented and I found my daddy feedin’ hay to the horses. He said I’d been sleepin’ for two days straight. I asked him if Doc Sharp come to see me and he said, “No, you was alright. Nothing but a big egg on your head. I checked on ya now and then.” He didn’t even care enough about me to call for Doc Sharp or even get me fresh ice for the egg on my head. I had to go on and help him feed the horses. When I was leanin’ over gatherin’ up some salt to scatter for our horses, Peggy, Breezy, Maude and Gable, I got so dizzy I fell over. Daddy had just been headin’ out the barn door to start sloppin’ the hogs when I fell. He dropped his slop bucket, spillin’ it all over, and ran to me. For a second I thought he was gonna help me up, but when he got to me, he just stopped and stared down at me for a second. “Dammit, December Marie!” he didn’t often use my first and middle name, so I knew he was real mad, “Quit bein’ so foolhardy. Get your skinny butt up and finish the feedin’.” So, I finished feedin’ all the livestock by myself while he went in the house, prolly to cry over Mama’s picture.

I spose my daddy was a nice man once. To have a wife as pretty and sweet lookin’ as my mama, he had to be nice and good. I spect my mama was perfect. I spect Daddy may have been perfect before my mama died. Sometimes I imagine the two of ‘em holdin’ hands and laughin’. When I imagine that it makes me real happy, to think my grumpy ol’ daddy was prolly a real fine young man and real happy too. It made me sad to see him cryin’ all over that greasy, grimy picture all the time. I spose his heart was just filled up with loneliness from missin’ my mama. I wish he woulda emptied out some of that missin’ my mama and filled it up with lovin’ me. I woulda really liked that.

My Grammy Maxine raised me from birth to the age of four. She died one night in her sleep. My first real memory is when I woke up one mornin’ and rolled over to give her a big kiss and a hug. I put my lips on her cheek and her cheek was as cold as a naked butt in winter. While I shook her shoulders real hard, I cried, “Grammy, Grammy, why you so cold?” But Grammy didn’t answer me. Her face was gray and her eyes were fixed on the ceilin’. There was a trail of spit comin’ out her mouth, too.

I ran to my daddy’s room and told him somethin’ was wrong with Grammy. When he went and seen her, Daddy simply said, “Well, December Marie,” usin’ my middle name so I knew he was upset. “Her heart just got too sad and weak from missin’ your Mama, on account a you killin; her and all.”

That was how I learned I killed my mama. When I was six years old, I finally got brave and asked my daddy how I killed her. He said I hurt her real bad the whole time I was in her belly. He said when the time came for me to get born she started screamin’ real loud, yellin’ somethin’ was wrong and to hail Doc Sharp. Daddy said by the time he got in town and back to the house with Doc Sharp, Mama was dead, blood all over the bed and herself. Doc Sharp had to cut her belly open and pull me out. He said I screamed and hollered and I was a right disappointment the second I came into this world. He said he didn’t look at me for three weeks after I was born. That was when he sent for my mama’s mama, Grammy Maxine, to live with us. He said til she got there two days after I was born, Mrs. Kendrick from the next farm over took care of me. He said when Grammy Maxine got there, the only thing he did was tell her to call me Marie.

But I don’t think I hurt my mama the whole time like my daddy said. My mama had me in her belly that day on the swing and she looked as happy as a lark. I bet she was excited at the prospect of bein’ a mama; my mama. I think Daddy was just so hurt and sad he wanted me to be hurt and sad too.

                                                        Chapter Two

My daddy married Miss Emma Hall when I was ten years of age. That ol’ Miss Hall was a real bitch. She didn’t care nothin’ for my daddy and she certainly didn’t have love for no step-daughter. That lazy piece of hog manure did nothin’ all day but lay in my daddy’s bed, readin’ some kind a smut stories. I was at the pharmacy one day pickin’ up my daddy some pain arthritis cream when I heard Mrs. Jenkins talkin’ to Ms. Clea Patrick about how smutty Miss Emma Hall was and how “Maxine Potts is probably spinnin’ in her grave if she knows that ungodly woman is raising little Marie. And can you imagine what Althea Marie would think? God rest her sweet, sweet soul.” Mrs. Jenkins didn’t know I heard her. This was one of the very few times in my entire life I ever heard anyone speak my mama’s name. Mrs. Jenkins was a real nice lady and was always very kind to me. It made me happy to hear someone thinkin’ of my mama and my grammy.

Miss Emma never paid no attention to me unless she needed somethin’, like her hair put in curlers or her back washed or her clothes ironed or her breakfast made. If she wanted a ice cold glass of lemonade, I was her best friend.

I can still hear her sayin, “Marie, darlin’, why don’t you make Miss Emma some nice, fresh lemonade?” She said this while she was dressed in some god awful pink lacy nightgown, covered up with a fluffy pink bathrobe, all fat and sprawled out on my daddy’s bed. I never like to use that word, fat, but when you’re as mean and nasty and fat as Miss Emma Hall, you deserve it.

I always made her that damn lemonade. I guess it was so good cuz I gave her some of my own sugar in it, a wad of spit fresh from my mouth. If she’d a known, haha. I woulda love to seen her face if I ever told her.

Miss Emma had a nasty habit of strikin’ me across the face for no good reason. She’d give me a good slap because her mashed potatoes was cold, or if I didn’t get all the ironing done to her liking. She once smacked me across the face with the smutty book she was readin’ just because her bath water was a bit too frigid, and boy, that smut book across my ten year old face hurt somethin’ awful. She never did this when my daddy was around. She knew I’d never tell him and she prolly thought he wouldn’t do nothin’ if I did tell him. My daddy never one time struck me, though. He might not a liked me much, but he was above hittin’ a girl.

One day I was bringin’ in fire wood for our wood stove. It was a terrible cold day outside and I had been workin’ hard out in a near blizzard since before sunrise. Miss Emma Hall had been sittin’ on her fat fanny in front of the hot wood stove all day, the fire goin’ only cuz I had to come in ever’ now and then and stoke it. Well, shame on me, I trekked in some snow and mud on the clean floor, the floor I mopped that very mornin’ and Fat Fanny Miss Emma Hall had a conniption! You'd thunk I spilled hog shit all over her smut books!

Jasper,

so kind

Jasper,

like sunshine

Warming

my heart

Your truth will see you through

My love will follow you

for a lifetime

Jasper,

gentle

Jasper,

sentimental

Holding

my soul

Your light will bring me through

the clouds to follow you

to the sunshine

When I open my eyes to see

the gentleness you leave me

I dream

I dream

Jasper,

my dove

Jasper,

sharing love

Warm breeze,

never enough

Your smile makes me whole

You never let me go

Enlighten me

Jasper,

gentle wind

Jasper,

my sin

Lovely,

like no men

You sing me your sweet song

You hold me though it's wrong

You love me

You love me

You love me

Remember me and what I've seen

The tale of this lonely fair-haired queen

My throne is gone...And now the emptiness I bleed

The loss of my king and my noble steed

Please right these wrongs...

My kingdom's lost, yet your kingdom's won

Help me understand what wrong I've done

Screaming, just one word

Begging but unheard

Remember me, my son

Until the end...

I've walked so long inside these woods

The shadows of the evenings stood

in front of me...

Do you remember when we ran

Laughing, we were so happy then

But in came the rain...

You had my heart, I held your hand

I dreamt about this future man

Am I to blame?

You will not fail but you will not win

Oh, my darling son, let me in

Screaming, you heard

Begging, yet no word

Mourn me, my son

Until the end...

My prince, my dear,

my shadow's near

You will not wake

I will have it all

It's mine to take

My son, you're gone

This is my kingdom

So now, I forget youYour reign is through.

The room was cold.  A dim lightbulb shone overhead. Diana shivered, regretting the thin sweater she chose that day. Glancing over at Adam, she noticed his nipples pointed at attention through his white t-shirt, reacting to the freezing temperature of the room.

"What do you think?" Adam asked. His disheveled hair and five o'clock shadow made him so ruggedly handsome, Diana was distracted for a moment. Catching his gaze, she quickly averted her eyes to the door.

"This is it," she sighed.

The black door from her nightmares. 

Every morning for three weeks at exactly 2:34, she would awake screaming.  Not movie screaming, where the character sits up in bed, shrieking.  No, she was paralyzed except for the screaming.  Her memories of the nightmares were vague.  She could see the black door, hear her name being called, even smell something rotting. But behind that door was a mystery.

She met Adam three days before. Being her neighbor across the hall, he heard her screams one night.  Fearing someone was attacking her, he busted down the door, admitting later it wasn't nearly as easy as it looked on television.  Since he had come to her rescue, she had a severe case of Florence Nightingale syndrome.

Grasping the doorknob, Diana turned it with ease.  She held her breath, sensing Adam doing the same.  An icy gust of putrid air greeted them. There, in the corner of the dark, dank room, sat a boy facing the wall. Diana gasped with surprise. She knew it was Seth, her 13 year old brother. Three years ago he was walking home from baseball practice when a tornado struck their little town.  Everyone thought he'd been blown away.

Adam looked from the boy to Diana, worry clouding his face.  Who was the thin boy crouching in the corner of this abandoned factory? Diana walked quickly into the room.  Adam grabbed her arm, holding her back, not knowing who else might be lurking inside. Glancing around, he found they were alone with the boy.

"Seth?" Diana whispered.  The boy straightened at hearing his name. They walked slowly toward the boy.

The frail figure turned toward them.  They froze instantly. His left cheek was ripped from his face, cracked and broken bones were all that remained. He slowly smiled, revealing broken and missing teeth. 

Diana, regaining her composure, hurried over and knelt beside her little brother.  "Seth?" she cried. She put her hand on his face, feeling the coldness of his skin.  He rested his head on her hand peacefully.  Diana slowly pulled his skeletal body into her lap, sobbing and rocking him.  

"I'm sorry," she whispered, smoothing his head with her hand.  It made sense now.  Seth had taken shelter in the old factory during the storm.  The tornado hit, making his shelter a deathtrap.

A warm gust swept through the room.  Diana felt the iciness of Seth's body disappear, becoming warm.  A shiver seized his body.  Looking at her brother in her arms, she and Adam witnessed the unbelievable.  His blue skin became pink, his face became whole, air moved through his lungs. He opened his eyes and smiled, his teeth shining white and straight. 

"Diana?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she answered.

"It was so cold. I kept calling for you," he said.

Diana held him to her chest, trying to comprehend this reality.  "I found you.  I heard you and I found you."

She picked her resurrected brother up from the freezing concrete and walked back through the door. Adam followed closely behind. 

She believed the nightmares would be gone, but they were just beginning.

I said I was sorry

so please don't treat me this way

Eyes shifting past me

What else can I say?

Why do you have to push me down

When all I want to do is stay?

You said you love mePlease don't throw me away

I said she meant nothing

It was just one day

I don't even know her

Don't even know her name

Why do you have to throw me out

like an empty bottle of wine?

I said I love you

Don't be so unkind

When I was a little girl

I dreamed of holding you tight

A man to take care of me

Keep me safe in the night

You were there when I needed you

Like a favorite shoe

Now you don't want meBut baby, I want you

You don't understand what I was going through

When I needed to cry, I couldn't find you

You were out on the town so I went at it alone

Drifting from place to place, like a queen's lost her throne

Why couldn't you just let me in?Maybe we wouldn't be here

But I can't blame you if you disappear

It was just one lonely night

While you were out with your friends

But does this really meanall that we have ends?

Won't you please just let me explain

Maybe you will understand

I want you so bad, babeDon't want no other man

But now you're leavingGoing out in the cold

Pushing past melike somebody you don't know

Please just give me a chance

to prove that it's still me

Baby, I love youWon't you still love me?

Plop wasn't such a great name.

She would have preferred Rose, Ingrid or even Jane.

There were three girls named Sarah, two girls named Kate,

Four boys named Billy and two boys named Nate.

But there was only one Plop, skinny and shy.

She wanted a nickname like Annie or Vi.

Her good friend Megan got to go by Meg.

Her teacher Miss Margaret had friends call her Peg.

Plop was quite original as far as names go.

She guessed it was better than plain old Jo.

She decided to embrace it, Plop as a name.

Maybe one day it would bring her fame.

So, Plop it was and Plop it is still,although secretly she wishes it was Lil.