October - week 1

To know men is clever (智), To know oneself is brilliant (明)

Week 1

                  

 

            Paul had been planning this trip for a month.  He reminded his boss every day that week that he needed Saturday off.  He and Steff drove up to the state fair early that morning so that they could spend the whole day together.  His brother Jake had wanted to come along but Paul insisted that he needed to spend some time with his girlfriend.  It had been so long since they had a day just to be together, and Paul had something special planned.

            There were plenty of rides and more fried food than was healthy to consume.  Steff pulled him into the funhouse and Paul reluctantly endured the funny mirrors and tilting floors, feeling slightly nauseous.  Maybe that fourth corndog had been a bad idea after all.  Next was the hall of mirrors, where Paul almost broke his nose walking into a glass wall with Steff on the other side.  She laughed at him and he spent ten minutes retracing his steps until he finally found her at the exit. 

            “You weren’t much help,” he complained.

            “You looked so cute stuck behind the glass,” she explained.  “Like a giant gerbil in a cage.”

            “Thanks.”

            Behind the hall of mirrors there was a small colorful tent, decorated with strange designs and advertising a fortune teller inside.  Paul was reluctant, but Steff had already headed into the cloth folds of the tent.  He followed her through the purple fabric.

            The inside of the tent was dark and lit only by the glow surrounding a stereotypical crystal ball.  An old woman sat cross-legged on a pillow behind the table.  She looked up as they entered and Paul took a step back.

            The woman’s eyes were completely white and sightless.

            For a moment Paul hesitated but then shrugged it off, assuming that she was just wearing some kind of contact lenses to make her appear blind.

            The fortune teller greeted them and motioned for them to sit.  She dealt out cards onto the table and slowly traced her fingers over each one as she read out their fortune.  Paul was sure her eyes were fake; otherwise how could she see the cards?

            “Young lovers,” she murmured.  “You will have a happy life together.”  She assured them of good fortune and well-being, and then dealt out three more cards.

            “How many children will you have?” she wondered, turning over the first.  Steff laughed and Paul felt his face flush.  “We’re not really thinking about kids yet,” he explained.  “I'm just eighteen.”

            The card, however, foretold that Steff would have 3 children, at least one boy and one girl.  The second card told of their long life together.  “And now for you,” the old woman continued, turning to Paul.  She turned over the final card.  It was totally blank.

            “Interesting,” responded the old woman, without even a second thought.  She gathered up the cards and declared the reading to be at an end.  Paul and Steff left the tent and found that it was growing dark.  It was time to leave if they wanted to get home before it was too late.  

 

            It was well past dusk when they got back to town.  Instead of heading towards home, Paul turned off the highway behind their high school, parking behind the scoreboard.  He had graduated the previous year but Steff was a junior.

            “What are you doing?” she asked.  “It’s getting late.”

            “I just need to talk to you,” he replied.

            Paul had been trying to figure out how to put his feelings into words.  Over the summer, when Steff had said that she loved him, Paul wanted so badly to say the same in return. But he needed to make sure it was real.  He had been so sure he was in love with his previous girlfriend but that had ended so badly.  Paul had given it a lot of thought over the past few weeks and finally realized that not a day had gone by that he did not think about her.  

            “I wake up in the morning and wonder how you slept and go to sleep at night wondering how your day went.  I like the way your voice sounds when you sing in the youth choir and how your mouth tastes after you eat a Popsicle.”

            She laughed.  “Ok.”  

            “I just wanted to tell you baby,” he started then paused.  “I love you.”

            They kissed and he held her for a long time.  It felt so good to finally express what he felt.  He hoped she thought it had been worth the wait.

            Paul dropped Steff off at her house.  They would see one another the next day at church, but he didn’t want to let her go yet.  Finally, she slipped out of his truck and went inside.     

 

            Paul drove home slowly, his heart still pounding with excitement.  He felt like he did not want the evening to end, so he took the longer route just so it would take a few extra minutes.  Paul passed by an ancient church that still stood sentry over the old highway.  The new bypass had divided the church from its cemetery, which now lay down the hill on the other side of the road.  As Paul passed by, he could see a light coming from the cemetery.  Curious, he pulled off onto the old dirt road which led to the bottom of the hill.

            A large bonfire appeared to be burning in the midst of the graves, its light flickering against the ruined stones.  There was a group of people gathered around it.  Paul stopped some distance from the scene and walked towards them, wondering what they were doing here at this late hour.  As he approached, he could see someone lying on the ground.  The small group had turned towards another figure, a young latino man who was struggling against his captors.  They were trying to make him drink something from a ceramic chalice.  His screams caused Paul to run towards them.

            He reached the group and grabbed the figure closest to him, yelling at him.  The figure spun around, startling Paul.  His face was eerie, like a old man with yellow skin and hollow eyes, wearing a paper crown.  For a moment, Paul thought it was real but then he realized that it was only a mask, made more lifelike by the dim light.

            Paul’s arrival had caused some confusion, enough for the young man to break free and run towards the pines that stood alongside the cemetery.  Paul looked around and saw the prone figure was a young latina woman lying unconscious.  Perhaps she had already drunk the potion from the chalice.  Even at this distance, Paul could smell the sickly sweet smell of it.

            Paul was about to turn back towards the group when he felt a sharp blow.  He saw a bright flash before his eyes and fell.          

 

            Paul awoke cold and damp.  He was lying on the ground, the grass around him covered in dew.  It was dark but he could hear birds off in the distance.  He wondered why they were singing at night and then realized that it was almost dawn.  He was still in the cemetery, where he had fallen the night before, but his memory of events was hazy.  Had it all been a dream?  The smoldering remains of the bonfire was the only evidence that anything had happened the night before.  He sat up too fast and had to put his head back down to stop it from spinning.  He wasn’t sure which was worse, the nausea or the dull throbbing pain at the back of his head.  He slowly stood up, trying to ignore the feeling in his head and a new pain in his lower back.  He must have slept on a rock.

            He struggled back to his truck and hurried home.  He wondered if his family had discovered that he had not returned the previous night.  Reaching his house, he saw with relief that it was still dark; everyone must have still been in bed.  He entered quietly and went to his room where his brother Ben was still asleep.  Paul fell into his bed too.

            Some time later he awoke again.  It was light outside and he could hear the rest of the family moving about.  The alarm clock was buzzing at him.  He reached over to turn it off.

            Ben stuck his head into the room.  “Are you going to church?”

            “Yeah,” Paul replied.  Was it Sunday?  It felt like far more time had passed.

            “You better get up then, it’s almost 10.”

            Paul rolled over to the edge of the bed, feeling a desperate need for caffeine.

            “Did you sleep in your clothes?”

            “Yeah, I guess so.”

            “When did you get home?”

            “Late.” 

            Paul didn’t have time to shower or shave.  Their mother sang in the church choir and had to go early every week for practice.  It was Paul’s job to get his siblings to church on time.  Jake and Nate were watching wrestling on TV.  Paul sent them to get dressed while he tried to find something quick to eat.  He was starving.  Pop-tarts and coffee?  Not exactly the balanced breakfast they showed on the front of the cereal box.

            “We’re leaving in ten minutes!” he called down the hall to this brothers as he carried his food to the table.  He knew how important it was to their mother that they all be there for church, and Steff would be there as well.  Was it really only 12 hours since he had last seen her?

            Jake ran down the hall, still in pajamas.

            “Get dressed now!” Paul shouted.  At least Ben was ready. 

            Paul went back to his room.  In the absence of a shower, extra deodorant would have to do.  He found his slacks and a (relatively) unwrinkled shirt and pulled them on.  Then he went to round up the herd.

            Jake was sitting in the kitchen, dressed but with his hair pointing in all directions.

            “Comb,” Paul instructed him.  Nate and Ben were arguing about who was going to sit in the front seat.  Their mother always drove Paul’s truck to church so that they could all come in the family car.  Paul ushered them out and headed to church.

            They arrived just after the service had started.  The minister was already making the morning announcements.  Paul looked around and saw Steff waiting for him in the back.  She came up and quickly slipped her hand into his.  Nate headed towards the back pew but Paul pushed him forward to the row where they usually sat, close to the choir loft so that their mother could see them all.  Paul and Steff slid into the row behind the others.  Jake sat down and pulled a hymnal out of the rack, promptly starting to fold down each page systematically.  Paul reached over and flicked his ear.  Jake frowned and put the book back only to pick it up again a moment later to flip through the Christmas carols.             

            “Did you have fun yesterday?” Paul whispered to Steff.

            “Of course I did.”

            “Were your parent upset that you got home so late?”

            “No, they had both fallen asleep.”

            “I guess they trust me.”

            “What’s not to trust?”

            Paul smiled.

            After church they all went out to eat.  Paul had to work that afternoon so he didn’t have any time to spend with Steff.  He told her that he would call her later in the week.  He got off work late and reached home after dark.  He still had homework to do for his class at the community college the next day.  None of his answers matched those at the back of the book though.  He spent half an hour staring at the algebra problems before admitting defeat.  He was too tired; maybe it would make more sense after work tomorrow.

            Having missed his shower that morning, Paul decided he really needed one before bed.  His back still hurt from the previous night and he was struggling to remember what had happened.  He vaguely recalled the fire and the dark figures moving before it.  Someone had been in trouble, or had they?  He couldn’t remember.  Paul ran the water while he undressed.  He stepped into the shower and stood under the hot water, letting it stream down his sinewy frame.  The steam felt good, washing away the stiffness.  

            He got out of the shower and dried himself off.  His back was still hurting.  Had he pulled a muscle lifting something?  He could not think of anything that would cause such a sharp pain.  Paul wiped the steam off of the mirror and turned, trying to see his lower back.  He caught sight of something.  Frantically, he searched in the drawer for a small hand mirror so that he could see the image better.  He looked at the the symbol which had appeared on his back:

 

明

 

Author's Note

This is the beginning of a story I have been working on. I have just posted the first part of October to give you an idea. Any comments would be appreciated.
The character 明 is pronounced "ming."

Reviews

[R.R.Louderback]

The first paragraph is a little staccato a wholly expository. Nothing is wrong with that per se, but it lacks a "hook" to make me want to read the story. I'd suggest strengthening the paragraph.

Find another way to say "stereotypical crystal ball" it is jarring. It reminds me that I am reading a story.

Once things got going, this became interesting enough to pull me along rapidly. Good job!

"A large bonfire appeared to be burning..." this is a pet peeve of mine. Either it's burning or it's not... I'd drop the "appeared".