Without Fear

Wasn’t it FDR that said “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself?” She was pretty sure that despite his bout with polio and a World War he knew nothing about real fear. He did not know what it was like to be a five year old powerless little girl who watched her father beat her mother every night. He did not know what it was like to be a twelve year old powerless girl roaming the streets at night looking for a way to buy some food because she had no home. He did not know what it was like to be an eighteen year old powerless girl whose only options for survival had been selling her body to anyone who would pay. He did not know what it was like to be a 25 year old powerless woman whose only answer was to leave the baby at the fire station because at least it would be safe there. He did not know what it was like to be poor, abused and powerless all your life and the only dream you had ever had was a home, family and decent job. She figured that if she had the same advantages that FDR had perhaps she too could have been fearless, but as it was, fear was the only thing that kept her alive.

She did not get it...........

Any of it, ever. She could not understand why after all these years it was happening again. The bright lights, the flashes of panic. Couldn't the just leave them alone. Did they have to do this? He told her, she should stopping trying to figure it and just accept it. That she would never understand their reasons. "But don't they understand you love it here and want to stay." "I don't know" he said. "Don't worry they will be gone soon." She just shook her head and sighed. He was right they would be gone soon and then they could get back to their lives and it wasn't like they visited all the time. Once every 10 years or so and for the most part they were good visits. It was really just when they would harp on him to move back home. How could they not understand that she could never live there. She could not raise her kids there. Hopefully one day her in-laws would figure out that the Earth was their home now.

The Experiment

It was four o clock in the morning when they began the experiment. They sat side by side on the lab table as the doctors wired them up. She knew that if it did not work this time she was done. She had grown tired of the constant test and questions. She could she thought go on living this way the rest of her life. It really was not as bad as most people would think. She had over the course of the last six months gotten used to it. She had never really thought that what she would miss most was nail polish. She could not explain why this one stupid little thing made her tear up every time she thought of never being able to paint her nails again, bright sparkly pink, iridescent purple, deep dark red. If the experiment did not work, those days were over. She felt the first jolt of electricity run through her body and then everything went black. When she woke up it was afternoon and she was groggy. Slowly she remembered the experiment, she looked down at her body. She screamed at what she saw. A doctor rushed into the room and asked what was wrong, all she could do was shake her head and laugh and cry. She was back, back in the body she had been born with, back in her self. Thank God the experiment had worked; she had been getting tired of standing up to pee.

She slept through her Life

She could clearly in vivid detail remember the day she meet him. She could describe exactly how he looked and what he said. She remembered the dress she was wearing; it was the green merino wool that brought out the red in her hair. He had been so very handsome with his dark hair, blue eyes and Irish brogue. He was from Detroit come to Chicago to work in the slaughter houses. She was working the reception desk when he checked into the hotel. Her Hotel, owned with her three sisters and brother. They had worked so hard to achieve this and she was very proud of it. But in that moment she first saw him she knew she would give it all up to have him. When they married she was happy. Happy to move to Detroit, happy to leave behind the hotel, Chicago and her family. It was only later she would regret it. After she no longer loved him, after two children, after his drinking destroyed him, after she could no longer remember why she had ever loved him. It was funny ,really, how she remembered the minutest detail about the day they meet but could remember nothing after, not the birth of their children, not the anger, not the violence, not even the day the police knocked on their door to tell her he was dead. She buried him in a cemetery in Detroit, took her children and went home. Could she have guessed that without her memories he would be lost? Lost to the children he had loved in his own way, lost to the grand children that would follow, lost to the great grandson who drove by the cemetery where he was buried every day on his way to work, never knowing that in that graveyard was a piece of him.

A dark haired blue eyed Irishman hangs on my wall. He is handsome. With him is a lovely red haired woman who, looks at him with love. They must have been very happy.

Mixed Nuts

They sat in a circle in her office every Thursday at 8pm. They would discuss their many problems and she would pretend to listen. When they all left at 9pm she would exhale with relief. By 9:15 every Thursday she would be at the bar on the corner of Chandler Street, a drink in her hand and friends by her side. This Thursday was no different. She ordered a drink at the bar and smiled as her friend Dan pushed the bowl of nuts toward her.

Walden Pond

23 July 1845

She had refused him and he was crushed. He had imagined their life together. Him writing wonderful transcendental treatises and her taking care of him, washing his clothes, cooking his food, cleaning the cabin. It would have been perfect. She claimed she cared for him but that her father would never let them marry; he was beginning to suspect this was a lie. Last evening in the Pub he heard from a mutual friend that she had accepted the proposal of another man. It had only been one month since his own proposal. Was she fickle? Were her affections easily swayed? He was in fact sure it must be something in her character for he was a fine catch. He was very fashionable just look at his very cool and stylish neck beard. He was very smart, just look at his great writings and pondering. He was very well connected was not he, with his many fellow transcendentalist? It must be her. I mean what women would not want to live with him in a small shack on the edge of Walden Pond? It was going to be lovely. Oh well, her loss, who needed women anyway? He should get back to his writing.

Elvis has left the Building

He stood by the grave and admired the many flowers left by fans. It was a lovely site to behold. He was still amazed all these years later the reverence people had for him and his music. The fact that even after his death his name could still bring millions and millions of dollars was at times shocking. But he was happy that his family was taken care of because he had had to leave all those years ago and he felt bad about that. He felt bad that his daughter thought he was dead, but it had to be done. His life had been spiraling out of control for so long that the only way out was death. So he had planned it, everything down to the last detail. It had worked perfectly. Everyone thought he was dead and despite the occasional " I saw Elvis story” in the Weekly World News he had lived a quite life. None of those stories ever got close to the truth. Did people really think he would still look like Elvis? After his "death" he had lost weight and dyed his hair blond and gotten plastic surgery. He looked nothing like himself. His current wife and children had no idea he was anything more then Ted Fromby from Winnetka. IL, High School History Teacher and baseball coach. He was really proud of his team; they had made the State play-offs this year. He took one last look at the grave, turned away with a chuckle and headed back toward the front gate where his family waited.

Miscellaneous Monsters

When she had joined with them last spring she had never realized how powerful she would feel. For so long she had lived in the shadows, hidden by her family and of her own accord. Then one night a year ago she had been on one of her late night walks through the city. She avoided the daylight and as the town slept she could wonder the streets without fear of being seen. But on this particular night she stumbled across an amazing vision, at first she thought it was her eyes playing tricks but it was not. There in the light of a street lamp she saw a thug attack a woman and then before she could act from the darkness came this band of misfits who stopped the attacker and helped the victim. They hid their collective identity's behind masks and capes, but she could see that like her they were different. For the first time in her 16 years she knew she was not alone. There were others like her. Others who hid in the darkness, but used their strength for good. She had found not only comrades, but a calling. She followed them back to their hideout that night and begged them to let her join them. They finally relented and let her join the team. She still lived in the shadows of the night but now she had friends and respect and a grateful city. For alone she was just one monster but together they were superheros!

The Day She Discovered Her Superpower

July 4th 1984 started like all the other 4th of Julys she had experienced in her 14 years. Flags were proudly displayed on every lawn, dogs barked in yards and kids played on the sidewalks. They were heading to the parade that morning and then going over to the O’Malley’s for a bar-b-que and swim party. The parade was fun and she got a huge bag of candy. At 14 she was just on the verge of being too old for parades and bags of candy but for this one last summer she was still a kid that was until she discovered her power that afternoon at the pool party. It all started innocently enough. She realized as she was changing in the bathroom at the O’Malley’s that she had forgotten her t-shirt that she always wore over her swimsuit. Her mother who had always thought it strange she would wear a t-shirt to swim in told her to get changed and forget about the t-shirt. So that is what she did and when she walked out of the bathroom that day it was the first time that anyone in the last three years would see her without a bag shirt and they were surprised. The body in the swimsuit was that of a woman. At 14 she was still embarrassed by her shape and had tried, successfully since developing to hide it all behind large shirts. But in her swimsuit she was exposed and embarrassed, but the embarrassment went away quickly when Tommy O’Malley asked her to join his team for water volleyball. Tommy was the eldest O’Malley boy and at 17 with his beach blond looks he was popular with the girls and he had never in the 8 years she had known him ever given her the slightest acknowledgement, but today was different. She was different and she quickly realized the power she had been hiding behind that t-shirt. Over the next several years she would use that power without thought, she became very popular with the boys and liked the attention she got when she wore a low cut top. As the years passed and she got older and wiser she realized that the true power of her weapons was in knowing when to use them and when to conceal them.

New and Improved

She was not so sure that she liked the new and improved Lorali. As she looked at her new face in the mirror she felt slightly sick. Is this who she was now. This pert nosed full lipped beauty queen that looked back from the mirror. When she had first removed the bandages she felt giddy with anticipation but seeing the face was a whole different matter. She looked nothing like the old Lorali. Could she live with this new face. Would she become a different person with this new and improved face. She was scared for the first time since the surgery was suggested. Scared that she had made a mistake, scared that she would change, scared that no one would recognize her ever again. Her doctor entered the room and gently lead her back to the bed. In soothing words he told her not to worry that it would take a little time to get used to the new her. She fell into that dreamless sleep that only medication can bring.

The Doctor walked back to the observation room where his colleuges waited. " I am worried," he started " her heart rate skyrocketed when she saw her face, what if it can not hold out when she finally sees what we have done to the rest of her? What good will a cyborg be if her heart explodes just from the shock of being a cyborg."

Ordering Pizza

She was hungry and he was going to be late he said but that he had a way better excuse then the last time. Way Better! So she waited and when he got that there it was a better excuse, he had brought stuff to make dinner, Way better because she was hungry. But by the time they got around to making dinner it was already eight o clock and she was super hungry and secretly thought to herself maybe they should just order a pizza. As they cooked the dinner and her stomach would growl she would think to herself I wish we had just ordered a pizza. Then everything started to go wrong and the chicken burned then the rice boiled over and it was time to face the truth, they should have just ordered pizza. So she called the pizza place on the corner and ordered a pizza. As she sat and stared at the pizza all she could think about was how she really did not even like pizza!

Good Times

Now and then I sit and stare out of the window wondering how I got to this place in my life. Once i had been young and carefree; willing to do almost anything for a good time. But things have changed now and I am calmer and more set in my ways. Things I once did now appall me. I lived hard and fast and have the scars and body art to prove it. When your young you think the whole world is your oyster to use a cliched phrase. I really thought I would live that kind of life forever. I was stupid. Now I know that the things we do catch up with us and we will have regrets. But sometimes despite everything I remember myself then and feel a little wistful. Wistful for the beauty, the youth the innocence I had. Now as a sit and stare out of this barred window in this maximum security prison with all the other murders I know that beauty, youth and innocence do not last for ever and if I had been smarter I would have used those things wiser instead of wasting them a good time.

The Dance

On the edge of the dance floor stood the girl. She was small for her age and covered from head to toe in unrelenting black. Her classmates would have been surprised to learn that she loved to dance for they had never seen her dance at a single dance over the last four years. She had come to every dance but she always stood on the sidelines, alone. At this ,their Prom and final dance of High School, she came alone and stood on the side of the dance floor in her black dress. Not a single peek of skin was revealed by her dress. Most of her classmates could not remember if they had ever seen the girl's skin other then her hands and face for it seemed she was never without a long sleeve turtle neck and long pants. But none of her classmates ever really paid attention to the girl in black. There were ,at every High School, those kids everyone considered odd and she was one of them at their school. So when the clock struck midnight and she vanished from her spot no one seemed to notice. If they had been paying attention they would have seen the air next to her shimmer for a second and her quickly slip through the shimmer. If someone had noticed her disappearance and followed her through the shimmer they would have believed that the punch was spiked and what they were seeing was all in their imagination. For through that shimmer was another dance floor identical to theirs, except instead of the frolicking young students from Peyton High School the dance floor was full of monsters, demons, witches and vampires. And there on the dance floor was the girl in black, no longer in black but free of the constraints of the human world she removed her long dress to reveal a shimmering silver strapless dress. Her tattooed arms waving to the music she danced with her friends and practiced her magic. Reveling in the freedom to be herself.

When she returned home that night and her parents asked how the dance was she would replay as always, " It was fun." And her parents would be happy that the daughter they loved but who seemed so odd and weird to them at least made the effort to be normal every once in awhile.

The Walk

I saw a movie once at the National Holocaust Museum in Washington DC. It was at the end of the tour I took. We all filed into the small theater and the film started. Survivors told their stories. By the end I wept. A women shared her story in flashes. A man shared his in flashes. It was summer and she was going to school when her father made her change from her sandals to her winter boots. She thought he was crazy but he seemed so determined she did what he said. The man joined the US Army and went to fight in WWII. The day the woman wore her winter boots in the middle of the summer was the day her family was rounded up and sent to a concentration camp. She spent two years in that camp wearing her winter boots. Near the end of the war she was forced with thousand of others who had miraculously survived to march from one camp to the next in the middle of the winter. If she had not been wearing those boots she would have died. Her father was already dead. The man helped the US Army push into Germany. He had seen terrible things over the last few years but nothing prepared him for what was to come. When the German soldiers abandoned the camp where she was they were free but so many did not have the strength to leave. They were living skeletons. She and several other women went out side the gates to get water. There they were approached by US Soldiers who had come to liberate them. When he approached the group of women he was shocked. They were like skeletons with grey hair but none of them were older then twenty. He asked if he could help them, he called them ladies. When the US soldier called them ladies she wept. It was the first time in years anyone had ever referred to them as ladies. She fell in love with him just a little bit. That love would grow and be returned. They would marry and have children and one day would make a film that would be played in the National Holocaust Museum.

Left then right

First she turned left on Main street walked a few blocks and turned right into the alley. She dropped the bag of cash in the red dumpster and walked back out heading back the way she had come. It was all the money she had in the world but it was worth it to get him back. Who ever had done this had known her weakness. She was both angry and sad that someone must either hate her or was so desperate for money they would do this evil thing. 53,429 dollars. That was how much they wanted. It was exactly what she had in her savings account. She had a sneaking suspicion that the person who was doing this knew here and knew her pretty well. She walked back to her apartment on pins and needles. They said they would call once they had retrieved the money with the location to pick him up. She waited half the night for the call but it never came. She was devastated. She had done everything they asked but still they had not given him back. She cried that night for him. The the next morning through the haze of her tears she heard a faint barking. She jumped up. The barking seemed to be coming from the entry way of her apartment building. She threw open the door and there he was jumping with joy, wagging his little tail. Her baby was home.

The Pile

It lay in piles about the room, tall piles, small piles, wide piles, and very green piles. He came to the room often just to look at it. All that money just laying around. They had no use for money anymore but they kept it here stored in a subbasement of the Cultural History Museum. As a guard at the museum he had keys to everything and on his breaks he would often come down here to see the money. They had never had money during his life time and it was not until he had started working at the museum had he ever seen it. He could on a certain level understand its draw. It was so lovely to look at. They had not need of money now. Everything was was kept on little chips embedded in the back of the neck. When he got paid they ran a scanner across his neck, when he bought food they ran a scanner across his neck, and when he bought a dirty magazine they scanned his neck. It was easier that way. But when he looked at those piles of money he sometimes wished for the old days. One of his co-workers would make fun of him always telling him statistics about crime and money and germs and money. He knew it was not healthy but he loved the look of it. He imagined that spending it had felt good. To actually have something tangible as proof of days work must have been nice. So it was not a surprise to his co-workers when he was discovered that day, naked and laughing, rolling around in the piles of money.

The Hospital Morgue

It was cold, really cold in here she thought. She threw off the blanket and tried to sit up. She rammed her head against the ceiling. Was she dreaming? She sat up again scrunching down to avoid hitting her head. The ceiling was maybe two feet from the bed. She felt around in the darkness and only felt the cold sides of this room she was in or better yet this box she was in. What the heck was happening. She started to shake and then screamed as loud as she could. Nothing, no one! Her neck throbbed as if it had been torn open. She tried to figure a way out of this cold box but she could not find a latch on what appeared to be a door at the end of the long box. Then a thought struck her. Was she in a coffin? Was she buried alive? She screamed again. Nothing! Oh my God, Oh My God she thought I have been buried alive. Who would do this? How did they do it? She did not remember much from the party the night before. All she remembered was dancing and drinking and people dressed in crazy costumes. She had spent weeks deciding the perfect costume for the Halloween party. She had found the delicate white silk dress at a thrift store and then splattered it with fake blood. She had painstakingly painted on the bite marks for her costume. She had gotten so many compliments on her Vampire's Victims costume. Then the very good looking guy dressed as Dracula had found her. She was sure it was true love, they had spent the entire evening together. But then it all went hazy and she could not remember the rest of the evening and now she was buried alive in this steel box. She began to scream and kick and cry and then light at the end of the tunnel. She was slowly pulled out of the steel box. She blinked at the bright light. Looking around she saw that she was in a hospital morgue. She sat up touched her neck and realized that the bite marks were not the result of her make-up. He was standing with his hand held out for her. She put her hand in his and stood up.

" Ah my little victim, the night is ours." Dracula said

The Queens Law

The Queen stood on the small balcony over looking the parade area. She was pleased, the preparations for tomorrows celebration were almost complete and every thing looked wonderful. She turned and walked back into the palace with a satisfied smile on her face. She decide to retire to her rooms for the evening and prepare herself for the next days celebration. She slept that night secure in herself and the laws she had set forth for this land. She was ,to her mind, a wonderful leader and tomorrows celebration would reinforce all the good that had happened since she had come to power.
The next morning she dressed with care in her brilliant blue sparkly frock and proceeded to the same balcony on which she had observed the preparations the day before. The parade ground was crowded with her subjects and a loud cheer went up when she stepped out on the balcony. This was it, the culmination of everything she had just spent the last year doing. A celebration of her first year as Queen. When she had passed her first decree she was uncertain how her people would take it but they had accepted it without reserve and once that decree had been put into action and all the humans eliminated it was easier to impose her rule on her subjects.
She stepped forward to the railing of the balcony raised her hand for silence and a hush fell over the crowd. " Friends, Robots and countrymen lend me your audio sensors......"

Dream Job

What do you do for a living he asked? She looked at him seriously and said, " I sell world Peace." he laughed thinking she was joking, " No really what do you do?" It was the same every time, they always laughed, no one ever took her seriously. But what she said was the truth, although admittedly she did say it to be cute and funny. It invariably worked, people laughed and thought she was charming and clever. She would then explain she was a fundraiser for an organization that was working toward the ultimate goal of world peace by eradicating poverty, etc, etc. They would nod their head and say the same thing, " Who doesn't want world peace." So she used the line often and the result was always the same, but she believed most people really did not get it, that the idea of real World Peace was so foreign to them that they could never understand that when she said it she really meant it. Sometimes at night she would fall asleep thinking about all the things that needed to be done at work and just like any job there were little annoyances she had to take care off and as she fell asleep sometimes these would be in her head but as she dreamed on those nights it was never about the annoyances but about a world full of peace and happiness for everyone, she knew it was a cliche but when she awoke on those mornings after such dreams she felt energized and would smile into her cereal bowl in the morning thinking about how best to sell her product.

Sorry, No Scribble

The teacher had written this on his first piece of art that fateful day in first grade. When he read it his little mind rebelled. Who was she to judge that his scribble was not art. So from that day forward he refused to draw anything but scribbles. They were beautiful in there simplicity. Each time his drawings would come back with comments about his scribbling when he was asked to draw a house or his family. He did not care his teacher was a philistine. In High School his scribblings got darker and richer with color, but all the while he continued to fail every art class he took. But he cared not for their F's and continued to scribble his heart out. Perhaps no one would ever see what he saw in those beautiful colorful scribbles. In college he continued with his art. Having given up hope that anyone would recognize the true beauty of his work he was surprised to be asked to exhibit his art in the annual College Art Show. When he won the first prize he was even more Surprised. 15 Years later he was still surprised of his success. His Art sold for millions and was displayed in every major Art Museum in the world. That first Art Teacher had even sent him a note after his first major exhibit. " I was wrong, scribble all you want!"