Annemarie Bogart, completely unknown writer

Egg on my what?

2010-09-16T11:25:00.002-04:00

Someone has made a slight mistake, his cheeks redden. Someone yells, "You've got egg on your face!"

That scenario is completely hypothetical though, because let's be honest here, has anyone, I mean on the entire planet we call Earth, ever heard someone actually utter those words? Seriously? If anyone is nodding yes right now, I want proof.

Like maybe, in the written form (though anyone who would actually write those same words out should maybe seek a reality check to the real world...or just smacked, either one) you may have seen the ridiculous statement.

"Egg on my face" Really? What the...? Who even thought of something so inane?

Well, I looked it up...I just had to. It was that or clean the house. Curiousity of the completely meaningless won out.

Okay, seems this mess of a phrase was conceived by, and I quote from a firecracker of a website called excitingly enough, World Wide Words (Insert yawn here):

"It eels like one of those expressions that have been around for ever, but the evidence suggest that it dates only from the middle of last century. It’s definitely American in origin, though now widely known wherever English is spoken.
I know of two suggestions for where it came from. The late John Ciardi suggested an origin in the lower-class and more rowdy kind of theatrical performance, in which an incompetent actor would have been pelted with eggs and forced off the stage. The other is that it was a comment on a minor social gaffe at a meal, when poor manners or sloppy eating left egg around your mouth.
As so often the origin is obscure but this newspaper story suggests that the latter is more likely, and that it began as US teenage slang:
A peek at the script turned up these gems, which Jane says are in the vocabulary of most any 15-year-old these days: “Hold your lava, Vesuvius!” (To a talkative friend). “There I was — with egg on my face!” (describing embarrassment).
The Bee (Danville, Virginia), 27 Aug. 1941."*

Hmmm...the pelted with eggs theory. I like your style John Ciardi. In history though ('cause I looked this up to, I'll do anything to avoid actual work) egg throwing was usually done in religious or political debates, or in the case of bad acting. Now making a mistake is a far cry from those examples, but who am I to judge how ridiculous idioms are formed. Especially one NO ONE USES!

On that note, I will never read THE BEE, just on principle alone.

Okay, so there is my rant of the day. Be well, and for goodness sake, wash your face after eating, just in case.

*A slight typo has occurred within my quote which unless I am willing to re-type the entire thing, the program will not let me fix it. Hence, the all-knowing footnote. The second word in that awe-inspiring quote from World Wide Words (yawn....sorry, that title just makes my crave a pillow) is "feels", but if you haven't already figured that out, I'm not even sure I care enough about you to have even inserted this damned footnote.

Harlan Coben Can Do No Wrong...

2010-04-28T12:22:00.004-04:00

Okay, I finally took a break from writing and picked up a book. My sister-in-law had left a copy of Harlan Coben's last year's thriller, LONG LOST, knowing I was a HUGE (Yes, the caps mean I REALLY mean it) fan. I had read all his stuff thus far, and I can't count how many people I have suggested read his stuff. First off, this book was the latest installment of the Myron Bolitar series. The characters in this series cannot be touched. The dialogue is pure top-notch sarcasm, just the way I like it. The book was completed in a day. (I read pretty fast, I'll try not to strain a shoulder blade patting myself of the back.) The thing is about completing a Harlan Coben book is that you miss the characters when they are gone. It is damned fun being in their crazy world. Do yourself a HUGE (there, I go again!) favor and pick this book up. Hell, go back and start from the beginning. You will see that maybe his earlier work isn't as strong (and I find the non-Bolitar stories have better storylines), but you are drawn to reading them. And find yourself ignoring the chores you were supposed to do, because closing these books are too damned hard!

The Deep Pockets of Madonna...

2010-04-16T10:09:00.004-04:00

So Madonna's daughter Lourdes is going to LaGuardia, the FAME school, yet suspiciously did not do the typical audition process that the thousands of other students need to take. Instead, she was given a "private" audition. Will all her performances be "private"? Why couldn't this kid go through the same admission auditions that the other kids did? Her fame? How do they expect her to function in the school then if she is too famous to even try out the proper way?

Now, some talented kid, who needed this PUBLIC school's reputation to further their arts career is told "sorry". Seriously Madonna, how much are you donating? Lourdes couldn't head to some pricey school where you could further purchase her career? Instead you feel you need to steal another kid's (who hasn't your financial wealth- be real, Lourdes can act in a film now if you really wanted her to, Madge) dream. Shame on you, and shame on the NYC Board of Ed for getting bought out.

Yay!!!! WHAT"S YOUR POISON?

2010-03-24T16:28:00.002-04:00

My flash story, "What's Your Poison?", that was adapted into a screenplay by Chris Keaton has been picked up by Blood and Guts Productions!!! They are casting it NOW!!!!

Check em out!
http://www.chris-keaton.com/

http://www.bloodgutsproductions.com/index.html

My 2 Minute Drill with Steve Lowe

2010-03-23T13:40:00.000-04:00

http://www.facebook.com/n/?profile.php&v=feed&id=1030464941&story_fbid=111486685533594&mid=212f9bbG284f776bG45466e0G52&n_m=bogeysloop%40aol.com

Okay, I am attempting to write a screenplay.

2010-03-20T13:58:00.005-04:00

Why, you may ask. And that would be a damned good question. Well, frankly, my manuscript is a movie. I envisioned it as a movie, it plays out in my head as a movie. And a damned good movie at that, not one of these run-of-the-mill teen crap fests that haunt the theaters nowadays. That's right TWILIGHT, I'm talking to you. The movie was just downright awful, and the charaters have ZERO chemistry. But, the book had the fanbase to push that carwreck into a hit...Robert Pattinson's pretty face didn't hurt either.

OKAY, so this is what I'm saying...AMAZ AND GRACE would put that movie to shame. The story is just....BETTER. Yes, I said it. First, I just have to figure out how to write a screenplay. That would help my endeavor.

Why not let someone else do it?

Quite simply, because I want all the fame and glory. Is that too much to ask for?

So, what do I do? I sign up for SCRIPT FRENZY and see how far I can get in a month. That's right, people, thirty days to get this puppy in script format. Let's see how this goes. I'll keep you posted. It ain't gonna be pretty.

HOWL ANTHOLOGY is HERE! BUY BUY!

2010-03-15T16:20:00.003-04:00

Lame Goat Press has released HOWL: Tales of the Feral and Inferal on AMAZON!
My story, WOLF MOON, is in that puppy!

BUY BUY!!!!

http://www.amazon.com/Howl-Dark-Tales-Feral-Infernal/dp/1451531311/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1268684525&sr=1-1-spell

Story up :)

2010-03-01T09:18:00.002-05:00

My story, "Strange Encounters" is up at Dark Fire Fiction...now! Go, run, read it!

http://usersites.horrorfind.com/home/horror/darkfire/home.html

Best Movies of the Last Decade....yep

2010-01-08T15:26:00.002-05:00

Scanning through lists and lists from each year in the last decade, I have to admit I got bored and stopped at 2007…yep, that means, I didn’t add The Dark Knight. Yeah, I liked it, but really could care less if I ever watched it again.

2004, what a crap year….

2006, what a sick, sick year in film…too bad they didn’t spread some of these over the other years in the decade.

Okay…. Here we go: (I’m too lazy to fix spelling)

20. Shallow Hal…this movie is just damned funny. The Farrelly Brothers never fail.

19. The 25th Hour…Spike Lee, never better

18. Me, Myself and Irene…Jim Carrey has never been funnier

17. Snatch…this is the best Guy Ritchie will ever do

16. The Magdalene Sisters…heart-wrenching, acting never better...true stories crush me

15. Saw…best original horror film of the decade

14. American Psycho…best pseudo-horror film of the decade

13. Little Miss Sunshine…endearing, cast is just insane. Comedic genius.

12. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon…In a word, sweeping, though I love House of Flying Daggers maybe a bit more, I believe without CT,HD, House would not have been conceived.

11. Eastern Promises...the decade needed a good serious mob movie, this is it.

10. Walk The Line…and a good bio-pic

9. Apocalypto…Gibson proves he knows what he’s doing, at least behind the camera

8. Finding Nemo…more entertaining than Wall-E, IMO

7. Kill Bill, Volume 1…the anime scene pushes this one above Volume 2

6. Pan’s Labarynth...Del Toro, sick war villain, and a kid’s fairytale…nice

5. Memento…a movie in reverse, why not?

4. Million Dollar Baby…Eastwood is untouchable

3. Gladiator…all hail Russell Crowe, and the evil Joaquin

2. Almost Famous…doesn’t get much better...Kate Hudson, remember when it seemed like you could act?

1. In America…best of the decade…Unless, you are are heartless soul, this movie will take a hold and not let go.

Sarah Palin....go away

2009-11-21T09:19:00.003-05:00

The media blitz around this woman is really irritating. Even Oprah, the goddess of all media decided finally to interview her, not during the presidential campaign, but now...hmmmm.

Why not? Ultra liberal media is spoon-feeding this moron to the world, trying to force feed her down the throat of the next election's voters...why? Because, she won't win...no one could in a right mind would vote for this woman, no matter how bad a job Mr. Obama is doing.

What qualifications does this woman have to run a country that DESPERATELY needs someone who knows what they are doing. (cough* McCain *cough) America dropped the ball passing up on him. I think Palin is the reason, yet, she is on the forefront to run in 2012???? That is the WTF moment that makes my republican head spin. Where the hell is Mitt Romney? Is he hog-tied somewhere? How did this woman knock him out of every one's mind? MEDIA coverage...yep, answered that myself. Easy to answer your own questions....

Not that I was a Romney fan, but he is head over heels more qualified that this lady...Judging by the lame-o job Obama is doing, I think "change" and picking a nominee on charisma and not experience or answers on how this change is happening is a REALLY bad idea. America, you voted for a car salesman, all talk...you get robbed. well, if you are middle-class...the rich could care less, they have dough to blow. The poor gets everything handed to them...and we pay, as usual. (okay, I side-tracked, I tend to politically rant at times...forgive)

In a nutshell, don;t make the mistake again...GOP find someone quick...someone QUALIFIED to take this chump out of office. That someone is NOT Sarah Palin.

Nanowriter

2009-11-03T10:30:00.002-05:00

Well, this will be my first time atempting this. "Wait," you ask, "What is this Nanowriting you speak of?"

Well, glad you asked. I had no idea until about a month ago when some super writers at Zoetrope were discussing it. Well, on the site, you sign up to take part in this crazy experiment with yourself to write a novel in a MONTH! And November is THE month.

They just want you to sit and write, write , write...no editing. Just thoughts, just get the puppy down.

Okay, Halloween and three suck kids and taking a 10 hour online course that took over my weekend has set me back on my goal. I am waaaay behind in my Nanowriting.

But, priorities come first...

Until, I completely fail at this, I am able to proudly display my badge.

Worst Horror Movies (5-1) - Inside Movies#

2009-10-23T09:59:00.000-04:00

Worst Horror Movies (5-1) - Inside Movies#

The Hills

2009-10-14T10:57:00.004-04:00

Okay, since the much-touted return of Kristin Cavallari, I am completely obsessed with this show.

Okay, some points...

Is any relationship on this show real?of course not. This group is by far the worst reality actors I've seen. Yet, I can't seem to stop watching them!

-Spencer and Heidi...good Lord, that's a train wreck if I ever saw one. I see DIVORCE in their futute. Shocking, I know.

-Audrina...sigh. Stop it already. I swear she is morphing into Lauren Conrad's role on the show. Not going out, avoiding all confrontation...WE the viewers like confrontaion, Aud. Just so you know. Now, get your ass back in the ring. And come on...going on a lunch date with Justin's friend...bad move, Miss Obsessed.

Kristin...NO NO NO...no pining over Justin Bobby's cold shoulder. Move on...be the maneater we keep hearing about. They shove the word down our throats enough that it should bare some significance. Right?

Justin...sigh...Beardless and fine. Though, I cannot understand a word the guy mumbles, I really don't care. He is eye candy, and a damned good character.

Brody... on the other hand, is a boring character. Less Brody please.

Jayde...crikeys! She frightens me. Who did her face? He should not be practicing anywhere!

How the hell did the bartender get in the show so much?

The rest of the lot, I could care less about.

I must say, next Tuesday cannot come quickly enough for me.

Nobel Peace Prize 2009

2009-10-09T12:18:00.003-04:00

Bullshit....That's the only thing that comes to mind.

After a stunning 12 days in office, they nominate, (that is scary enough) someone who has done nothing but talk. No accomplishments under his belt, no great deed done...nothing.

Gandhi...freakin GANDHI! His name synonymous with peace, and he didn't even get one! How is that possible? But BARACK OBAMA gets one!
Bullshit...there is just no other word.

Lunar Disgrace

2009-10-09T09:55:00.003-04:00

Why does crashing into the moon sound like a good idea to anyone, besides the egg-head scientists. Haven't they done enough damge here on Earth? Now, they have decided to expand their reign of disaster outside our own borders and onto anything we can reach our sordid hands! I'm sickened. Hasn't science done enogh damge to our planet? Okay, that aside, is it in the country's best interest right now, during an economic dilemma that has the country broke, people out of work...is this the right time to spend billions on a space mission? That money should be used domestically....there's your health insurance right there. In my opinion, they should just scrap the space program, and take care of the problems right here.

Newest Horror

2009-10-08T10:18:00.003-04:00

Okay, in the midst of almost taking a new puppy, we decided maybe we should take care of our dog first. Seriously, in a house full of three little kids, the dog gets zero attention.

So, although she's been biting at her tail the last month, we chose to ignore it. She'd been attcked by some unknown animal upstate, and we just figured that was the problem. She 's not going to the vet unless she's half-dead.

Well, we caved and brought her yesterday.

Our worst nightmare was confirmed. The thing is infested with fleas. Yes, the dog at this point is being reffered to as "the thing".

My skin literally crawls when I think of the fleas in my house. The damned animal lies in my bed half the day!

So now begins the tedious cycle of bombings and sprayings to erradicate the bood sucking bastards.

So, adios puppy....hello, old flea-bitten hound.

The Wendy Williams Show

2009-10-07T20:12:00.009-04:00

Okay, I have watched this a couple of times. I should be slapped for the return viewing. I do not understand how this is on prime-time .(okay, it's channel nine, I have no idea what the network is anymore. Nor, do I really care)
I thought Tyra Bank's show was cheese ball...but this one. It takes the proverbial (cheese) cake.
Little paper cut-outs of Kardashians...why?
Are these people that interesting...?

Is it me, or does Wendy have Carmella Soprano's accent?

I liked her better the radio, she seemed to have more edge. Her ragging now, is the same stuff we hear over and over again...about people everyone is sick of hearing about.

Come on, Wendy...get raw. This show isn't for you...you need late night.

NO WAY!!!!

2009-10-07T20:11:00.000-04:00

Holy crap! I have a follower! Life is good...life is good.

Movie news!

2009-10-07T15:33:00.002-04:00

Did I mention the wonderful Chris Keaton has decided to adapt my story, "What's Your Poison?" into a screenplay, and then try to get a short film deal! He sent me a copy of the screenplay and I was delighted. He didn't stray from the story, at all! So far, it's getting good reception at Zoetrope. Next stop Sundance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Halloween

2009-10-03T13:55:00.002-04:00

Okay, every year this is a dilemma. The costumes.
Okay, now, these kids told me they wanted to be Mario and Luigi...deja vu of two years prior when Jack refused to participate in the Halloween Parade because people laughed at his costume. The old "They are laughing with you, not at you" speech went absolutely nowhere.
So, here we are again. Me, thinking I'm the smart shopper, decided to get the Luigi costume ahead of the price hikes. This year, dammit, I would be prepared!

Well, he now he has decided to be Pikachu...
Great. Monkey wrenched thrown.

No matter what happens, the kid will be miserable in the parade...After 3 years of experience, I know what's to come. So this year, he will be sad Pikachu....
and now, I have to get rid of this damn Luigi costume, which btw hasn't arrived yet...

On top of all this, yes, this is alot, Johnny's dinosaur costume is in no way, shape or form going to fit him.

sigh

Did I mention story, "Smashng Pumpkins" has been accepted to House of Horror, Issue #6?...
yep. That makes me feel better.

I was accepted into The Dark Fiction Guild :) I am dark, really dark :)

Okay, so I'm excited...

2009-09-26T10:47:00.002-04:00

One of my stories is being adapted into a screenplay for a short film. He is in the process of converting it now. Hopefully, he will be able to find someone to buy it :)))

Links :)

2009-09-26T10:42:00.002-04:00

Here you will find links to some things that have been accepted. I encourage you to read all the stories on these sites, these people are good :)

"Cicadas"
http://www.houseofhorror.org.uk/#/cicadas/4535279182

"Pink Clouds in the Morning"
http://www.liquid-imagination.com/Issue4/Story3.html

Haiku: "Mother's Joy"

http://www.bellaonline.com/review/issues/fall2009/p029.html

Good news!

2009-08-25T07:52:00.003-04:00

Two short stories and a poem have been picked up!
"Cicadas" will be featured in Issue #4 of the ezine House of Horror this September!
"Pink Clouds in the Morning" will be in Liquid Imagination's Issue #4, also this September.
My haiku, "Mother's Joy" will be in Mused: BellaOnline's Literary Review in the Fall Eqinox issue.
Finally, something to add to that query letter!

2009-05-16T14:57:00.002-04:00

This was a short story contest submission based on a charcater study of a specific painting.

Case Closed by Annemarie Bogart

Her image is etched in stained glass on the far wall of the temple that is my mind. She was much younger than her appearance suggested, a fact I would find out later. Her hair was thick and wavy. The thickness reminded me of caressing silken but heavy threads, if such a thing even exists. Her hands looked small and fragile as she pulled back that thick red curtain. She wasn't quick to smile but when she did it held that shyness yet sincerity that some women possess. Her eyes were what struck me most; they held a weariness that should not be acquired until much later in life.
She was from Guatemala. God only knows the circumstances that brought her here. She lived in a small studio apartment that faced a grimy brick wall. A dumpster sat next to her only window. She worked two jobs. During the day, she did housekeeping for an elderly couple that lived way uptown. It was a very long commute on the number six line; almost not worth the money she was paid. She took pride in keeping her employer's home impeccable. They were a nice old couple and they treated her well, sending her home with any leftovers they had. They would buy her a gift during the holidays.
At night she worked as a waitress at a diner not too far from where she lived. It meant she spent a lot of time on her feet. She couldn't afford proper shoes for the position, ones that would cushion and support her feet. When her grueling shift was over her feet would ache. You wouldn't think there would be much eatery traffic at that time of night, but as the posters say, New York is the city that never sleeps, and apparently, never stops eating either.

On this particular night, well, early morning, the place became packed with post bar patrons. The booths overflowed and she tried her best to keep up with the drunken demands of her customers. The girl she usually worked with called in sick that night. Her boss had made light of the situation by telling her that she's now make double the tips. Her employer at this position wasn't half as kind as those she cleaned for. He was an aged Greek man who lost his wife to cancer five years earlier, since then; he holds no remorse or sympathy for anyone or their situation. He could have helped her that night with the overflow of people, but chose not to. The very rowdy table by the door, the table that had ordered pretty much every appetizer as well as burger on the menu, they decided to skip out without paying the bill. Something that happens more times then you would imagine. Somehow, this became her fault, and the money was deducted from her paycheck.

She was glad to get out of there that night. It reminded her of a similar one that had occurred not that far back. The same thing had happened; it had been a thirteen-dollar deduction from her check. Tonight had been a whole lot more. But the feeling of wanting to get out of there as the tears stung her eyes was the same. It was that night she would see something that would change the course of her life.
She had walked briskly hugging her thin coat tightly to her. The weather had turned much colder during her shift and she hadn't dressed properly for this autumn blast of premature chill. Working two jobs and living in the rat's nest the landlord tries to pass off as an apartment, you would think she would have a decent coat. Truth is, she sent most of her paycheck back home so her mother can support her younger brothers and sisters.
She was almost home when she heard arguing coming from an alley across the street. She peered over casually, pedestrian rubber necking. It was then that the flashes went off in the alley along with three sharp bangs to accompany them. She froze instantly. The darkened figure emerged from the alley. The figure, most likely a man jumped into the passenger side of the idling car. She hadn't even noticed a car sitting there running until the man jumped in and it sped away, disappearing into the city night. It never occurred to her to just continue on her way home, forget what she had just seen. That would have been out of character for her.
So, she spent what little left of that night clear into late the next morning talking to the police. They seemed to think that maybe she could help them get this killer; maybe she saw something, anything that may lead them to justice.
What she didn't know was that the man who was murdered that night was a Wall Street big wig who seemed to like to welsh on bets. There is only a certain amount of rope some shylocks will shell out before they come collecting. Turns out, this guy, well, he just flat out refused to pay thinking his Fifth Avenue penthouse could protect him from the New York's underworld. He thought wrong. She saw the car. That was the kicker. The car she had barely noticed until it drove off became the most important piece of evidence. She remembered the license plate. It's a one in a million shot that anyone on a darkened New York street would even bother to investigate a shooting let alone remember the license plate of the getaway car. She was a key eyewitness. Thankfully, facts like that are not kept under wraps for long within a tainted police department. It was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose. It happens too often to count.
So, you might think to yourself why this girl's image holds such importance to me. She was just a regular person struggling to get through this life, working her hands to the bone and doing little to enjoy her young life. If she never witnessed that murder that night, in all likelihood, our paths would have never crossed. I remember her so well because it was I who glanced upon that image of her as she quickly glanced out of her small window before opening the door. I only saw her for a second or two before the thick red curtain closed behind her.
She didn't even hesitate when she opened the door; she had not yet acquired the automatic distrust of strangers that comes from living in neighborhoods like this one. It was then that I had to place that fatal bullet in her head. It was the next day that I gained much of my information about her through newspaper articles. It was a few weeks later in an article buried back on page twenty that I read about my handiwork paying off. There it was in good ole black and white, "Case Closed."

Keeping out the Cold.....short story by Annemarie Bogart

2009-05-06T16:56:00.000-04:00

The window was shut to keep out the cold. Well, that was what she inferred as she shivered slightly pulling her sweater tighter around her. She closed it too quickly. It rattled slightly as the old peeled away sill was assaulted by the loose glass of the ancient window pane. I knew she just wanted to shield me from the yelling from outside. She always tried to protect me from it, pretending it wasn’t there. But, I knew it was there, and the sad part it as much as she tried, she knew I knew it was there.

Heather was my big sister; she was eight, two years older than me. She always took care of me like a mother would although we had a mother to do that. It was during the times my mother was occupied with Dad that she would become my surrogate. She was strangely mature for her age. She was kind, never selfish. She always let me have whatever I wanted, no questions asked. If she got a toy for Christmas, and I decided I wanted it for myself, then she just let it be- no fighting. Looking back now, it is all kids stuff, and maybe I was the spoiled one. But, I realize now why she never wanted to argue, never wanted to have to have him raise his voice. She almost wanted us to be invisible to him. It was her way of protecting me, again.

Our dad, as mom would say, was always tired. He worked too hard, she would tell us. “Don’t disturb Daddy,” she’d say in a whisper grasping us gently by our sleeves, her eyes pleading with us to obey her. Heather would nod silently in understanding and pull me away to our room. She showed me the mime game where we’d pretend to be something and instead of shouting out the answers we’d write it on paper and hold it up to let the other see your guess. A silent nod or shake of the head would let you know your guess was correct. It seemed when he came home is mostly when we played these silent games.

Sometimes, okay very rarely, Dad would come home in a good mood. He’d laugh and toss me in the air. He’d take us to the park. He’d play catch with Heather and I with the red rubber ball Mom had bought for us one Christmas. Other days, most days he’d come home mad. I was never sure exactly what he was mad about. I heard him say once in awhile that the house was a sty, whatever that was. Other times, he just seemed to be mad at Mom. She would try to get us upstairs. She would have tears in her eyes as she gently would coax us up the stairs. Her finger to her lips hushing us to silence. Heather would always take the hint and grab my hand and lead me away as quickly as she could. . We would hear him throw things, glass shattering on occasion. We would hear Mom crying a lot. Sometimes, if we were lucky, he’d fall asleep after dinner and we wouldn’t have to tip toe around his mood swings. Sometimes, if we were really lucky he wouldn’t come home at all until we were all asleep.

Tonight was not a lucky night. He had come home while we were doing our homework. The table shook when he slammed the back door. Mom got up quickly from the table and whispered to me to finish the math then head upstairs. Heather closed her books quickly and took over the seat that Mom had unoccupied. We heard him call Mom a few names that you never imagine someone calling your mother, especially not your own Dad. We could hear Mom telling him to lower his voice but that only seemed to make him yell louder. Heather grabbed my hand gently and nodded to the stairs. The math homework was never finished.
We bounded silently up the stairs knowing every part of the wooden steps to avoid the creaks. Silence was key in times like this. Heather shut the door firmly behind us; she held her back against the door of our room maybe hoping she could push back all the screaming that invaded our ears. She quickly left her spot at the door and opened the closet. She pulled out the old doll house. She beckoned me over wordlessly with the wave of her delicate hand. I tiptoed to her and knelt down next to her. She opened the old wooden house and silently we began to play.

The doll house occupied hours upon hours of our silent dreams and hopes. Wishes that one day our family may be as perfect as the family we created in those few precious hours in that toy home; a family that didn’t hear shouting. A place where fear didn’t exist. A house where smiles were as constant as those painted on the small wooden figures that we played with. The pretend play always consisted of a mom doing all the things people are programmed to believe mom’s should do- cook, clean, do laundry. The dad would come home from work. They would eat peacefully at dinner sitting happily around a well made table. The happy chatter of the day’s events would unfold for the family to share as they ate a delicious meal. The family would then retire to the sitting room where they would watch television together. The children would sit at mother’s feet while she told them a story. Then father would lift them both and carry them into their beds where mommy would tuck them in and whisper sweet prayers in their ears.

I’m not quite sure why we played this game so often; it was almost like a tease in a way. Letting us know the way it could and maybe should be, but in the end realizing that it is the way it never will be. At the time of playing it seemed fun, but sadness always came over me when the game was complete on realization that this grand world only lives within the walls of that old wooden dollhouse and not in the walls of my own dilapidated home.

Tonight the yelling seemed to spill from downstairs into the driveway. That happened some times. I could hear Mom scream something about calling the police. We had all heard that said before, but it never happened. We heard a loud crash, most likely a flower pot from the side yard. I stood to go look out the window. Heather touched my arm and shook her head vehemently. I sat back down on the floor and hugged my knees close to myself. Heather got up and pulled her sweater tightly around her. “It’s getting cold,” she said as she walked briskly to the window.

As I said earlier, it was shut to keep the cold out. Not the cold of the night air, for it was September and the air had not yet taken on that brisk chill that it does in the later months. No, this cold was from the heart itself. A cold between two people that would never be the loving parents we dreamt about as we moved those wooden people from room to room in the doll house. This cold was worse because it couldn’t be eased by a blanket or a coat. This cold permanently scarred two small children.

The closing of that window did very little to lessen the cold that vibrated through the window pains with vibrations of yelling. Heather meant well by trying to block out the voices. No child should have to hear them, but we did. I don’t mean to lament on this for I realize there are some much more worse off than we were. Some kids get beaten, some starved. Dad never touched us, not a hand, but we always lay in fear of him. I guess we were always more concerned that his wrath would turn from Mom to us. She protected us so that never happened. We had seen him hit her on two occasions.
The first time was Christmas Eve; I was three. Heather and I were hiding watching all the presents being laid out under the tree by Mom. We were so excited. Then he came home. He was infuriated at the amount of gifts we had under the tree. Is that what I slave for all day, he screamed. She begged him not to wake up the children. “Please, don’t do this tonight,” she said her voice hushed but strained with weariness and emotion.
“I’m the bad guy, right?” he yelled stumbling forward a bit. He caught himself on the coffee table before falling over. He laughed sarcastically in a strange way that sent shivers up my spine from all the way up the stairs. He slapped her hard across the face with the back of his hand. She fell across the room landing on the presents at the foot of the tree. “You mind me, woman,” he said in a more hushed voice and stumbled back out of the room. I heard the door slam and the car peel quickly away from our gravel driveway. We tiptoed quietly back to our room and cried ourselves to sleep.

The second occasion was Halloween, the next year. I was a ghost, Heather a witch. Mom was busy getting dinner ready while we divvied up our candy into two pots. We were testing the different candies and were very impressed with our loot. Mom told us to wash up and sit at the table for Dad would be home soon. He arrived while we were in the bathroom. We could tell when we saw him that he was in one of those moods; the ones that made you want to avoid him. The food was on the table, so there was no escape. We sat down tentatively at the table evading his eyes.
“What? You don’t even say hello to your father anymore?” he boomed as his fist strikes the table. The plates clang slightly.
“Our little Trick-or-Treaters are probably just tired,” Mom offered trying to diffuse the situation.
“I’m talking to my kids, I don’t need you answering for them,” he snarled, his breath smelling strongly of the same aroma that covers his room on mornings he doesn’t get up for work. It’s usually on the nights he doesn’t get home until after we are asleep. This smell was never a good sign; it always meant trouble was to follow.
“Tom, just leave them be,” she said ever so gently, but to him it must have sounded like curse words by the way he reacted. He pushed him chair back throwing his plate of food against the wall as he does.
“Don’t you ever tell me what to do, woman,” he screamed, the memory still able to send goose bumps up my arm. He always addressed her as “woman” during these times; not by her name, Julia, or Momma, as he did occasionally when he was in one of his rare good moods. It was as if he had distanced himself so far from us that we were no longer names, just woman and kids.
The arguing persisted and Heather grabbed my arm. There was no way to escape, he was too close. He approached my mother menacingly and I could see her instinctively backing away. He pushed her hard into the china cabinet. Her shoulder shattered the middle pane. She rolled away seemingly okay, but when she turned to us we could see blood starting to soak the floral blue print of her house dress. The sight of blood was all it took for us to start crying. He seemed surprised by it, too. He cursed himself and walked out of the house, slamming the door as he did.

He told us the next morning that something like that would never happen again. He swore he wasn’t going to drink anymore. I was confused by this, because I thought people needed to drink to survive. I figured maybe he’d just be thirsty, but be able to deal with it. He cried apologizing over and over to Mom and to us. We honestly thought that maybe, just maybe, we could finally be like the family in the dollhouse. That the slice Mom took on her shoulder was a small sacrifice for such a life change.

Well, Dad’s good behavior seemed to wean off about three months later. I think he went to a party that men have before one of their friends get married. A batcher party, I think that is what mom called it. That never made any sense to me, what’s a batcher? Anyhow, I guess we have learned to live around him more than with him. We do our best to avoid him, afraid of what disposition he may be in. We go upstairs when he gets home, making sure all our chores are done before that time. We are silent at meal time afraid of what we say may cause an outburst. We shut the windows of ourselves to keep out the cold just as Heather does with our bedroom window. We have spent our young lives trying to keep out the cold. Our Mom has done everything she can to try to make everything seem normal. Sadly, the cold lives with us, and as every day goes by it creeps into our soul, though we try our best to keep it out.

The End

(Untitled) Prologue, young adult fiction

2009-04-27T09:52:00.003-04:00

(Untiltled) "The Football Book"
young adult fiction
By Annemarie Bogart
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Prologue:

“I’m going pro,” Jasper Grady says defiantly. He takes a long swallow from the beer bottle not concerned with the liquid that drips down the sides of his jaw onto his leather football jacket. “All the way,” his hand emphasizing his point sailing through the air like a jet plane cutting through sky.
“Sure,” his friend Rusty says jokingly from the front seat of the old pick-up. “Hell, this town got you guys head filled with stuffing. Every year you’d think there was another pro coming out of this county.”
“This town… hell, this county… this state has never seen a team like me and Grady here,” Bobby says looking through the rearview mirror at his best friend in the back seat. Jasper catching his eye in the reflection nods solemnly in agreement.
“Damn straight,” he says tipping the bottle towards his best friend and quarterback in the driver‘s seat.
“You just pissed, you could never got to play,” Bobby laughs at his friend Rusty next to him in the front seat, taking a swallow from his bottle.
“Sure…rub it in,” Rusty says throwing his empty bottle out the window.
“Hey man, this is my fuckin property remember,” Jasper hits his friend on the shoulder.
“Sorry, man” Rusty says opening another beer as the pick-up flies up one of the many dirt roads of the property. “So whatta we gonna do tonight? Just drive around here getting drunk?”
“That’s the plan” Bobby says taking a drink of this beer.
“Hey, Grady,” Rusty looks into the back seat. “That Fall Dance is coming up soon enough…you finally gonna get the balls to ask out Sandy?”
Jasper hits his friend on the back of the head. “Fuck you, man…besides that dance is like two months away.” He looks out the window as his two friends break out into hysterical laughter.
“I’m sorry,” Bobby says attempting regain his composure for his best friend’s sake, “but we’ve been hearing you talk about her…well, shit, Rusty…you remember him not talking about her?” Bobby glances sideways at Rusty who nods guzzling back his beer.
“Well, Grady…he just has a point is all,” Rusty says shrugging his shoulders.
“Whatever,” Jasper says downing his beer. “Laugh it up.” He grabs another beer out of the bag next to him.
“Just fuckin ask her,” Rusty laughs. “So we can go on with our lives.”
“Yeah, I will,” he says steadily watching his friend get a little more risky on the winding turns. “Fuck, Bobby…there’s trees everywhere…slow down…”
“Take it easy, Jazz,” he laughs swigging from his bottle, “I’ve been riding these roads all my life with you…fuckin bikes, quads…like the back of my hand.” The truck takes a hard turn, the front tire hitting a rock.
“Yeah, Grady, since when you cautious about anything?” Rusty laughs turning to look at his buddy in the back seat.
“QB’s a shitty driver, Rust,” he grins sending Rusty into hysterics.
“What you say back there,” Bobby says turning around in the seat trying to swat his friend in the backseat. Jasper looks ahead …the darkness… the rumbling of the truck…the tree…the impact…just for a second…then blackness…

When Jasper awakes, he feels a dull ache in his shoulder. He’s no longer in the truck,, he's about ten feet from the truck in a patch of thick grass. He looks at the truck from the ground. Somehow the back door is ajar…Did he crawl out of there? Did it open during the impact? Did he jump out before impact? He is disorientated…not quite sure what is happening…Then it dawns on him.

“Bobby?” he yells trying to sit himself upright in the grass, his head spinning. “Bobby? Fuckin answer me, man.” He tries to get up but nausea waves over him and he remains on his knees. He crawls towards the pick-up. “Rusty!” he yells getting closer to the truck.
The pick-up appears to have gone head-on into the tree. He crawls to the driver’s side using the truck as leverage to help him up…fighting back the pain.
He peers through the open driver’s side window and see his friend leaning unmoving on the steering wheel.
“Bobby,” he yells shaking his friend’s shoulder which makes Bobby’s head fall back onto the seat. Jasper then sees the gaping hole in the windshield on the passenger’s side. Rusty is no longer in the truck. “Fuck!” he screams staring at the shattered glass blood clinging to its parameters. “Rusty!” he yells again, his head splitting.
“Jazz,” he hears Bobby whispers and Jasper looks at him. He is bleeding from the forehead. “My chest, man…I can hardly breathe.” Jasper looks wildly at the other side of the truck.
“I gotta get help, man,” he says quickly. “You’ll be okay here, Bobby…Fuck,” he pauses. He forcefully opens the door, “Come on,” he says leaning over his friend undoing his seatbelt. He tries to pull his friend out of the truck but manages instead to pull him on top of himself. They both hit the ground...hard.
“”Fuck, Jazz…what the fuck are you doing?” Bobby’s says holding his bleeding head.
“Look, I gotta get help and I ain’t leaving you in there in case it blows or something. Look pull yourself back as far as you can.. I gotta find Rusty.” Jasper gets up slowly steadying himself and runs around to the other side of the truck. He tries to follow the illumination of the head lights on the woods looking desperately. He walks into the bushes, scratching his face on a wayward branch.
“Rusty!” he yells waiting to hear any sound. Nothing. He steps forward and trips over something. In the dark he feels around. Moisture on the grass…he feels something solid…cloth… pants…a leg…Rusty. He can’t see him. The darkness is thick and the headlights seem to be shining above them.
He feels for his face…feeling a sticky hot dampness where there should be a face. “Rusty,” he screams trying to revive his friend. No response. He leans over him placing his head on his chest. No heartbeat. ‘Fuck, come on, man…be okay, Rusty…wake up,” he starts pumping his chest like he sees them do in the movies. Then he leans in to try to blow into his friend’s mouth…He tastes it… the unmistakable salty metallic taste…blood. He gets up tears falling from his eyes. He backs away quickly.
“I gotta get help,” he yells. “Bobby, you hear me?” he shouts over the truck.
“Yeah,” he hears his friend groan. “Where’s Rusty, Jazz?”
Jasper ignores the question, “I’m going to get help…stay put, Bobby. I’ll be back soon with help, okay. Just stay put,” Jasper yells and runs back to the road… He runs like he has never run before. He needs to get back to his house, needs to get help.
Fifteen minutes later, Jasper crashes through his front door.
“Dad!” he screams up the stairs. “I need help!”

Teen Pregnancy....

2009-04-24T08:22:00.002-04:00

For the second straight year, teen pregnancy rates are on the rise. Okay, I just don;t get it. See, I went to a Catholic school, from 1st to 12th grade...we didn't discuss sex...ever. And the "birds and bees" talk just never came from my parents...maybe I was absent that day, I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure a few people I knew were in the same boat. TV wasn't dripping with sexuality, now was music. Cable just started getting poplar, and their were a few VCR's...so our access to R movies was limited. Mature video games just didn't exist. So, my point here is, with so many blinders placed oer us, and our complete and utter ignorance on the subject, how come our teen pregnancy rate wasn't through the roof? No one I knew had a baby...no one. Never heard of anyone who did either. Now, I live in Queens, NY, not Lancaster, Pennsylvania, so I am just wondering with the plethora of education, and knowledge and first hand acquaintances that have to do with teenage pregnancy, why is the rate rising and not dropping?
I'll get back to this...i just wanted to get that off of my chest.

TV...why do you suck?

2009-03-16T09:05:00.005-04:00

Seriously, I have like 500 channels, so why is there nothing interesting on anywhere?
Is it me? Have I just been given too many choices now that I cannot decide on just one. Have I become addicting to channel surfing? Truth by told, I have a hard time sitting though a commercial break anymore. I find myself searching for other shows or snippets of movies to fill in that 2 minutes and twenty seconds of the show's off-time. I know, it sounds completely crazy...like I MUST have control of everything I watch, refusing to bend to sit through a commercial that I did not chose to watch. It's madness.

Maybe it's not me. Maybe people have just accepted these sub par shows and movies to watch.For example, once in a blue moon, I break down and press in a "Pay Per View" movie...the latest being PINEAPPLE EXPRESS. Okay, I had heard great things about it...it's hilarious, sooo funny, yadda yadda yadda. First off, is it possible to make a comedy anymore without Seth Rogan? He's in everything! I like him and all, but man, talk about overkill. Secondly, the movie was mildly amusing, not hilarious, as I was led to believe. Have these people ever seen a great comedy before that this movie got so much hype? I am losing faith in Hollywood. They have no sense of humor. Thirdly, I seriously could care less what happened. I have been finding this happening more and more. I just lose interest and feel like turning movies off mid-way, even if I just spent $4.95 to watch them. Okay, so maybe it's me. I expect too much, I guess.

I mean, for instance, HBO and all your little sister channels like HBO Comedy, HBO Family...why do you seemingly play the same movies every day? Variety people. There are some movies I literally have not seen in years. Why doesn't any of these channels show them instead of airing NEVER BEEN KISSED seven to ten times a week? When I was younger, a small child in Queens, New York, we have the "Four-thirty Movie" on ABC, every weekday. "The Planet of the Apes" marathon, Charles Bronson week, Clint Eastwood week. Now, those were the days my friends.
"Rich Man Poor Man" shown in five parts...ahhhh. Good stuff.

Kung Fu Saturdays! Anyone remember those? The Chinatown Kid, The Five Fingers of Death, Bruce Lee classics. I mean, these are the things a kid would look forward to. An Abbott and Costello movie every Sunday morning after church. Everyone had their favorite. Mine was Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. I hadn't seen that in, I swear, maybe twenty years, then lo and behold HBO aired it a few weeks ago. I know, I was in shock as well...but I must admit, kudos to you fine programming people at HBO for taking a chance once in awhile. Very rarely, but once is better than none.

We worked with seven channels growing up, and we were happier! The Wizard of Oz was on ONCE a year...That's it! No DVD, no cable, no VHS, no TIVO, no DVR...ONCE! You missed it, then too bad, you had to wait another whole year to see it. Same with It's a Wonderful Life, The Grinch That Stole Christmas. Geez, I can't tune on cartoon network during the Christmas Season that I don't hear Karloff's creepy voice telling me about Wooville and the roast beast. Overkill destroyed television. Too many channels, too many choices and ownership of movies and classic shows cheapened everything. We are a spoiled society, and television is one of the many things we have seen drastically change during my lifetime. A very small example of our society's overkill, but valid all the same.

Okay, that's all for now, I have to catch a missed episode of True Blood on HBO on Demand ;) Okay, sometimes, I like being spoiled, just a bit.

Rantings...Religion

2009-02-28T13:09:00.002-05:00

Where to start today? The two subjects that instantly ruffle people's feathers...politics and religion. Should I? sigh...maybe I will tackle religion today.
Raised a Roman Catholic, schooled for twelve years in Catholic school, I struggle now with the decision to place my son in religious education because, basically...I think it's all complete and utter crap. It is a fairytale spoon fed to the masses and even today, they eat it up...they fight over it...Over what? Something that can never be proven. It boggles the mind.
So, why the struggle with putting my son in religious education...Sadly, I think it's a more social decision. Won't he wonder why he isn't receiving Communion like everyone else his age? So far...no. But we haven't been to the slew of May communions this year, so the questions may come then.
Now, some of religion is good...the basic life lessons and morals. Sure, we all should know these things. But, it's really just common sense, isn't it? Parents should be able to pass these ideals on without having to give in a mandatory collection fee each year. Yes, the envelope counting. Are you up to par? So you give enough of a "donation" every year? The donation that funds putting crown molding in the rectory. I want crown molding, but no one is sending me a envelope to fund it. Oh well, so much for that poverty vow.
The holidays...Hooray for Christmas and Easter. But truthfully, isn't all about Santa and the bunny rather than the actual reason for the holiday? Gifts, gifts, gifts....how the stores love Christmas. Christmas does make you feel all warm and fuzzy, I'll admit that. But, it's really not because of religion. I think it's the gawdy Christmas sweater...but that's just me.
Okay, that is rant #1....not exactly finished but started...(and I didn't check for errors, grammar police...you know who you are!)

Poacher...part 1...horror/thriller short story

2009-02-03T09:40:00.002-05:00

The blue minivan pulls cautiously into the shoveled out driveway and comes to a well rehearsed stop. The back door slides open with mechanical ease. A young boy flies out from the vehicle like a caged animal set free. His mother, Mrs. McGee, a young slender blonde calls out to him as he runs oblivious to her words across the snow in the front yard. He bounds the shrubbery onto the front walk and darts through the front door, his mother left shaking her head still behind the wheel of the car.

Mrs. Jenkins walks her dog across the street, a scraggly looking orange tinged wire-haired terrier. Bert is his name…she uses the dog’s name way too often for anyone’s comfort level.

“Burt, stop tugging Mommy,” says the just turning elderly slightly plump woman in a flowered sundress. That sundress that it seems every old woman acquires when they reach a certain age. The one with the snaps down the front, not a flattering look on anyone. For a reason only known to Mrs. Jenkins, she has decided to wear this particular sundress over her coat. Mrs. Jenkins waves to Mrs. McGee as Burt pulls her eagerly down the street leaving you wondering who is walking who.

He sits and takes this all in, the routine…he’s been studying these people for over three weeks now. He is patient…no rush, no mistakes. He takes in the times of dog walking and child pick ups occur. When daddy heads to work and when he comes home. No emotion, just a need to hunt…the need took over his soul long ago. Devoid of any feeling he watches, he waits. Knowing it’s almost time to spring into action. But as all good hunters know…the undetected wait is key to getting your prize. So, he waits in his own minivan which blends into suburbia perfectly. He eyes Mrs. McGee…Karen. This is his target. In good shape, she runs three miles a day. She is a black belt in the karate class she takes twice a week on Hamburg Street. She went to the university for classes which ended two days ago…taking psychology classes. A worthy adversary he believed. It’s never that much of an accomplishment when they cannot at least fight back a little. But sometimes the choice is out of his control. Sometimes the hunger chooses the victim.

Karen finally opens her car door and leans over a grabs a few plastic bags full of groceries from the passengers seat. She curses until her breath as a loaf of Italian bread slides to the car floor. She retrieves it hastily and shoves it into the plastic bag. She manages to hold all the bags in one hand as she closes the door with the other. The plastic handles sink into her flesh forming red lines of discomfort. She takes a bag in the other hand to relieve some of the load. She trudges through the fresh snow which has blanketed her front yard, amazed that her young son’s video games take precedence to snow balls and snow angels. How times have changed. She shakes her head with that thought.

She closes her front door gently locking it out of habit immediately. In a neighborhood like hers, there is rarely even a minor crime but she still takes that step to lock the door if only for her son’s sake. Her husband would be home late again which means they would be alone until way after dark. Although her street wasn’t completely isolated like in the countryside, there was a decent enough amount of land and woods around each home that once the sun went down, things could feel a little creepy. Karen’s husband always tells her it’s her own fault that those horrible images creep into her head from watching too many horror movies.

Dinner is on her mind now. It’s five thirty. If little Timmy eats about six, that usually keeps him on schedule to get to sleep by eight o’clock. She’s actually glad her husband is not home for dinner, for it makes the meal much simpler…no three sides, every food group represented, tons of pans and serving dishes. Yes, two TV dinners will be just perfect, maybe a small salad to get some vitamins in the boy. She always feels the need to add at least one fresh vegetable to a processed meal to make herself feel like a better parent.

She puts her groceries on the butcher clock counter and flips on the kitchen television. There is rarely silence in her world, she fills it with mindless television banter or classic oldies from her radio. She preheats the oven and opens the freezer to pick out their dinner choices. She spies the fried chicken dinner and dislodges it from under the frozen chopped meat and the ice cream container. Fried chicken is Timmy’s favorite. She eyes the turkey dinner and tugs it out from the way back. Okay, all set. She unwraps the dinners, always annoyed that each one has separate directions…why not perforated plastic to make it easier. Uncover the potatoes, cover the corn…so she plays origami with the thin plastic until it is ready. She places them on a steel pan and slides them in the oven. 5:35 on the clock…they will be eating by 6:05, just perfect.

“This just in from our newsroom, folks. Seems there’s been a second disappearance from the area,” the newscaster starts and Karen looks over at the screen taking a seat on one of the wooden stools that are set around the butcher block island. “Michelle Spreen, 45, of Bismark Place has been reported missing by her husband of 25 years, says Police Capt. Nigel Barnes of the Billings Police Department. Police says there was signs of a struggle in her home, but no trace of Mrs. Spreen. Spreen returned from work on Monday evening at about 4 PM, as witnesses stated, but after entering her home was never seen of heard from again. Her husband returned from work that evening at about seven thirty and there was no trace of Mrs. Spreen. After seeing signs of a struggle, he called the police.”

Karen studies the screen, looking at the slightly overweight woman with glasses and a gentle smile they kept showing on the screen. She has thick dark hair and eyes that were too small for her face. Her smile seemed genuine. Another photo of her and her husband, they are hugging each other. She has garland around her neck and he, a Santa hat on his head. They look happy, a good memory caught on film. Live footage of the Spreen’s home on Bismark Place shows a quaint brick ranch home. Long driveway sets the home back from the main road. Looks like about three acres of property, Karen figures. Police coming in and out of the home. Reporters on the front lawn.
“That poor woman,” Karen says aloud in a whispered voice.

“This is the second person from the area to go missing within the last three weeks. The first being 60 year old Myra Longdale of Prospect Terrace. Her worried neighbor reported her missing after she failed to answer the door on several occasions even though her car was in the driveway. Fearing the woman had maybe fallen, the neighbor contacted the police who searched the older woman home but found no evidence of her. Instead found a half-starved cat. The police said the neighbors insisted she doted on the cat, and would never fail to feed it or go away without making sure someone watched over the cat. Several unopened cans of food remained in the cupboard,” the voiceover on the TV says as photos of Mrs. Longdale, her house, her neighbors and finally her cat appear.

Karen looks at the familiar pictures on the screen Myra Longdale. She has encountered the sweet woman once or twice in the grocery store, usually buying treats for her cat. Always with a smile, she seemed to have her hair done every time Karen has seen her. Karen didn’t frequent church much, only on big holidays, but Mrs. Longdale would be in the front row of the choir every time Karen attended which led her to believe that she’s probably a regular.
“The police have not linked together these two disappearances as of yet, but say they have not ruled out the possibility that these cases may be connected. We will keep you up to date on any new updates in either case. Jenny?” the toothy newscaster changes his voice from concerned to chipper in the matter of a half a second as he gazes at the newscast’s busty newsgirl, Jenny. Today Jenny is wearing a banana yellow suit that has most likely blinded every viewer in the four surrounding towns that are unlucky enough to get this broadcast. “How’s our weather looking?” Karen sighs and shuts off the volume because as bad as Jenny’s wardrobe may be, her shrill high pitched voice is forty times worse- so it’s an assault on you visual and audio senses- too much for Karen to handle.
She turns on the radio. “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond drifts out of the speakers. Karen smiles and looks out the window humming along. The snow is falling harder now from the deck railing she can tell the accumulation looks about two inches. She looks out across her vast grassy yard, a fresh blanket of snow covers it. It looks so beautiful and undisturbed. The white snow drapes over the massive limbs of the oaks in her yard almost like those Christmas icicles that you buy in the store at Christmas time. The winter landscape is breathtaking and she’s glad she got a glance of it before it went completely dark.

She pulls herself away from the window and exit’s the kitchen. “Timmy!”, she yells tilting her head up towards the second floor. She walks to the bottom of the steps, hoping he’ll answer her so she doesn’t have to make the trek up to the second floor. She hears Mario, one of Timmy’s most beloved game characters, yell, “Mexico!” and Timmy whoop with excitement. Her voice falls on deaf ears when a video game is played. She decides to save her breath. She sighs and heads up the wide carpeted staircase holding onto the carved wooden banister for mock support. The arcade music gets louder and louder as she ascends every step. “This kid will be deaf by fifteen art this rate,” she says to herself. “Timmy!” she yells as she approaches his door. It is open and she peers in at her small son propped on the floor on a pillow in front of the television. He sways back and forth dramatically with each turn his car makes on the screen.
“Timmy,” Karen says loudly to his back. No response, and no surprise. Karen walks across the room. He glances up quickly then his eyes dart back to the game. “Timmy, do you have homework to do?” she says trying to keep her voice at a higher volume to battle the furious racers on the screen. Timmy continues to play the game, not giving Karen the satisfaction of an answer, or even acknowledgement. This is the game daily. He tests her until she is forced to get angry. “Timmy,” she tries again, louder. “Timmy, I will shut this game off if you do not answer me.”
“No!” he yells more to be heard over the game than in defiance. Karen walks over and turns down the volume.
“Timmy, do you have homework?” she asks him trying her hardest to keep her patience. She wants this to be a quiet night without the dramatics of a tantrum.
“I did it at school, Mom” he says not peeling his eyes from the screen. She kneels down next to him and grazes her fingers through his soft blonde curls. “Aw, Mom,” he says trying to avert her fingers. “You are gonna make me lose.” She smiles at his remark and removes her hand slowly from his head. She glances at the screen as a princess in a pink gown slams into the side of Mario’s car. “Peach!” Timmy screams. Karen lost him again. “Okay, dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes. You better come when I call you.” She gets up from the floor slowly, her body not as young as it used to be. Her muscles are sore from her visit to the gym this morning. She bends down and picks up Toby, Timmy’s stuffed elephant and tosses it casually on his bed. “Fifteen minutes,” she reminds her young son and leaves the room.

Karen’s cell phone goes off I her pocket. She digs into her jean’s to get it before it goes to voicemail. She hates this cell phone. Seems anytime she finally gets it out, she misses the call. She looks at the screen, ‘Timothy‘, it reads, her husband. She tries to hurriedly open the phone. “Hey babe,” she says into the phone. No answer. “Damn, “ she says aloud and presses the call back feature on the phone as she bounds back down the stairs.

“Karen?” she hears her husband’s voice pick up after one ring.

“Hey Tim,” she says as she reaches the first floor. “We got cut off.”

“No surprise there,” he laughs and she smiles at the sound of his voice. Married ten years and she still smiles at his voice. She was lucky. “Look, seems I may be home not as late as I had thought.”

“Well, that’s good news,” she says walking into the kitchen. She glances out the window noticing how dark in has gotten outside in such a short time. No more watching the brilliant snow tonight. She looks at the clock, 5:55. “So, what time should we be expecting you then?”

“I’d say, probably by 7, 7:30 the latest,” he says hurriedly. “I got this quick meeting with Burke, then I should be ready to plow out of here.”

“I didn’t cook anything. We are having TV dinners, so it’s either that, or pick something up for yourself on your way home.”

“Got the hint, loud and clear, Karen. Kitchen will be closed by the time I get home,” he laughs softly. “Okay, I gotta run. See you guys soon. Love you.” He ends the call before she is able to reciprocate the feeling. She is happy he will be home earlier though. Timmy will be, too. She opens the over door and checks the chicken. She lifts edge of the breast up gently flipping it over, she does the same with the small drumstick. Timmy likes the chicken to be crunchy. She closes the oven door and shuts off the heat.

She heads to the refrigerator and opens the bottom drawer. She pulls out a ready made bag of salad, pre-washed. She giggles at the triple washed in big letters across the bag. “Not only will we cut it, we’ll wash it for you, too,” she aloud to herself. She grabs a container of grape tomatoes and closes the door with her foot. She plops everything on the counter. She grabs a wooden bowl from overhead. She rips open the salad at the perforation mark and pours it into the bowl, then sprinkles some tomatoes on top. “Viola,” she says mocking herself.

She puts on her Hello Kitty oven mitts, given to her last Christmas by Timmy. She retrieves the cardboard like tray from the oven and places them on two plates she has set on the counter to cool. “Timmy!” she calls. She already knows how this will wind up. She can either continue to yell, then stomp u the stairs and force him away from his game. Which will then lead to a dinner at the table strewn with silence and bad attitude from an eight year old. Or she can just bring the plate up to his room and let him eat up there. It is Friday, she reasons to herself. So without a second yell, she pours him a glass of milk. She picks up the plate and glass and heads up the steps.

There he is, still swaying with the Mario Kart race, the sound effects assaulting his small ears. She places the plate next to him on the floor. “I want you to eat all of this, or I’m taking the game away,” she says sternly enough for only her to hear. He hungrily grabs the drum stick and holds it in his mouth while continuing to play his game. She shakes her head and leaves him alone.

Karen eats alone at the island in her kitchen staring absently at the television. A rerun of Seinfeld, the classic “master of my own domain” episode. No matter how many times Karen has seen it, it never gets old. She laughs as Kramer busts through Jerry’s door unannounced slapping his money on the table. No questions asked, comedy genius right there. Karen finishes the last of her salad and gets up to clear her plates. She looks out the window and sees darkness. Karen reaches and flicks the on switch for the outdoor lights to illuminate the backyard.

She takes another glimpse through the panes wanting another winter wonderland image. It is then that she notices the footprints. She moves closer to the window thinking maybe her eyes are playing tricks on her. But there they still are, tracks in the snow coming from the woods just beyond her backyard. She follows the tracks with her eyes. They walk through her backyard, and up the steps to her back door. She runs over to the back door and peers through the curtain. She can’t see much for the lights illuminate the back part of the yard mostly. She flicks another switch, the one that shines over the back door. The prints, right there…It seems someone walked right to this door. But, no one knocked. Maybe someone was in trouble, she thinks? A hunting accident? Why didn’t I hear anything?

“Maybe I was upstairs in Mario Land when the knocking occurred,” she concludes to herself. “I wouldn’t have been able to hear anything.” She opens the door slightly. No one is there. “Hello!” she calls out. The soft breeze though the pines is the only answer that is returned. She looks back down at the tracks in the snow. They seem to descend back down the steps and go around to the side of her house. She walks outside and peers over the side of the deck. The tracks lead to her side door. That’s where they end.

Karen walks briskly back into the house and closes the door behind her. She pushes the lock down instinctively. She stares at the basement steps. She grabs a knife from the butcher block and walks tentatively to the top of the steps. The side door is closed. She flips on the basement lights. Snow. Tracks on the steps leading down to the basement. Karen feels her heart jump and fear spread rapidly throughout her body. “Timmy,” she says aloud, and quickly turns back to the kitchen.

She feels something hit her hard in the stomach. The pain is not immediate, almost a dull thump that takes her breath away. She grabs instinctively at the metal stake embedded in her abdomen, blood pours over her hands. The pain takes on a whole new vengeance, sharp and stinging. It forces her to kneel down. She notices the legs next to her. A man. Her focus is going, her vision becoming blurry. Socks, she sees no shoes. Socks, then jeans, then a plaid coat. His large hands are wrapped around a thick wooden handle. In a stupor her gaze follows the handle to the steel point jutting out of her stomach. She opens her mouth, but it seems all the air has left her and she is unable to suck anymore back in.

“If you yell too loud, he most likely won’t hear you,” its the last thing she hears before slipping away into darkness.

Amaz and Grace...Chapter 2: Maria

2008-11-17T06:36:00.003-05:00

CHAPTER 2 : Maria

A few minutes later a beautiful Hispanic girl with a black bandana used as a pony tail holder emerges from the school with three girls with her. The look on her face is not a happy one. She stomps ahead of her friends straight for Amaz. Their faces although beautiful have a certain hardness that only comes with living near the street. They are chola, no doubt about it. There is a definite sense of strength when Grace sees Maria, a visible confidence that exudes with every movement she makes. Maria is focused on Grace the whole time she walks to Amaz, looking very suspicious of the new white girl seated with her blood brother. Maria can sense trouble and something tells her that this girl was trouble.

“So now I’m too fat? First I’m too bossy, then I’m a bitch…Now , I can afford to miss a few meals?” Maria glares at Amaz who calmly arises from the bench.
“If I waited for you, I’d be waiting here much longer than I wanted is all. You in there, talking all your shit, I’d be here for like a half hour. And look, you’re alive…see you can miss a meal,” he shoots one of his sparkling grins at her and she laughs.
“So what is so important that you drag me out my lunch, mijo?” Maria says eyeing Grace suspiciously. Maria’s three friends approach them, as well. They purr a greeting to Amaz. They try their best to flirt with him as best they can without making it too obvious. They fail miserably. They, also, focus their attention on the beautiful girl on the picnic bench next to Amaz. They look at her with disdain while talking quietly amongst themselves.

“We need privacy,” Amaz tells Maria officially. He turns graciously to the other girls, “Would you beautiful ladies mind excusing us for just a few minutes?” Amaz says in a voice that oozes seduction. They look to Maria for affirmation. She gives them a nod and they start to walk back towards the school. They giggle and Grace hears one comment on how “she would do anything Amaz wants”.
“So, what’s up?” Maria asks Amaz, “and who’s your new friend? She’s a little light for these parts. Ain’t she Amaz?... She is a little too light for you.” Maria points her finger into her cousin’s chest hard.
“Maria, I expected more from my educated sista. I need you to open your mind and listen to what this girl’s got to say. Then let me know what you think, okay?” Amaz says gently patting Maria’s hair gently.
“Fine, fine- what’s going on, Amaz?” Maria asks impatiently not even bothering to look at Grace, and swatting his hand away with annoyance.
“You’re on, blanca angel,” Amaz tells Grace and backs away from Maria mockingly putting his hands up. Grace looks very uneasy but determined She gets up from the bench with all the confidence she can muster.
“Firstly, my name is Grace. I am new to this place, to this school, ” Grace looks around the courtyard and over at the graffiti covered building, over emphasizing her point.
“No kidding,” replies Maria matter-of-factly placing her hands on her hips.

“Well, I have assessed that to be able to attend this school in peace and be able to complete my education without having to defend myself, I will need help, “ Grace glances at Maria seeing if this is sinking in. From the look on Maria’s face, Grace realizes that it is beginning to slowly. “I need you to help me- to help me be safe, to help me get through the days in peace. I need you to protect me when Amaz cannot,” Grace tells her, as she does Maria shoots a quick look of disapproval to her cousin and shakes her head. “And, I am willing to pay you- very well.”

“First of all, you have lost your fucking mind, guera?” says placing a finger on Grace’s forehead, pushing her head back. She turns away from a surprised Grace to Amaz. “And, you, I am very surprised at you? What the fuck is going on here?” Maria yells, completely ignoring Grace now, focusing all her attention on Amaz. “I want to know what is going on and I want to know now,” she demands stamping her foot noticeably.
“Cool down, why you getting so hot? Amaz replies calmly unable to hide the laughter in his eyes. “Okay, hold on.” He turns to Grace, “I just want to talk to her alone for a minute. You sit there.”

Grace walks slowly back to the bench while Amaz puts his arm around his cousin’s shoulder and walks her away from the bench.
“Why am I getting…” Maria says as they start to walk away. She stops and takes a breath, then continues, “What is going on here, Amaz? What is this peduha got to do with you?” she asks pointing at Grace. “I want to know. This just doesn’t seem right. I smell trouble here, Amaz. Trouble for you, trouble for everything we got here.”

“Trouble, maybe,” Amaz starts, “but trouble that was brewing underground anyhow. This little blanca angel is what it will take to bring the rats to the surface. She already helped me out with some shit. Trust me on this- there will be trouble- but trouble that was a long time coming. She is the way of the future, she is going to help me clean house.”
Maria pauses and tried to take this all in glancing over at Grace on the bench. She shakes her head unable to let this sink in. She leans against a tree. She pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lights one. “Okay, Amaz- do I want to know what this about?” Maria begins blowing out the smoke.
“Probably not,” he replies honestly. “I just have a feeling here. You need to trust me on this.”
“This feeling is more than just between your legs, right? Maria asks seriously taking a long drag on her cigarette.
“Well, I can’t deny that it is there, too,” he laughs, and Maria shoots him a nasty look. Amaz puts his hands up in mock defense then continues more seriously, “I feel that this is a way to a new beginning, like a new phase in our lives, in our business.”
“And your banking all that shit in this little punta here, “ she says and points to Grace who straightens herself up and stares at the cousins intently now. She is dying to know what they are saying.
“No, I am banking all this on myself- and on you,” Amaz replies walking slowly over to his cousin and takes the cigarette from her, taking a drag. He hands it back to her. “You say no, and I’m not in. Simple as that.”

Maria closes her eyes and tries to take this in. She takes a long drag of her cigarette. She slides down the tree into a semi sitting postion. She rests her elbows on her knees focusing on the frayed threads on her jeans. She looks over at Grace, then at Amaz. She looks down again, pulling the thread loose. He waits patiently as his cousin thinks things over. “Are you asking me this as your cousin or as my boss?” She looks up at Amaz. “This isn’t an order.” She gets up quickly, unexpectedly. She flicks her cigarette into the grass. She walks swiftly back to the bench. “So, what is this about?” she asks Grace, Amaz smiles as he hears her words.

“Okay, my name is Grace, “ Grace extends her hand out to Maria, who tentatively shakes it. “Pleased to meet you, Maria. I am here to employ you to help me get through this year at school- to let me under your wing of protection so that I may be safe. Without you, I don’t see me being able to survive here.”
“You got that right, greenga.” Maria grins at Grace. “But why here? Why even bother at this place- if you that intimidated to go here, then why not go to some white school?” Maria asks her straight out. Amaz looks at her, too, also very interested in her answer.

“Well, I have my reasons. One being, this is my home now. I have to go to school here. I really don’t have a choice about that. This is where we moved, so my options are not that great. I just want an education, safely. Am I not entitled to that simply because of the way I look?” Grace asks Maria honestly. Maria looks at Amaz shaking her head clicking her tongue audibly. He has heard that sound many times before; Maria is not happy.
“Trouble, Amaz, I see trouble,” Maria says emphatically. Amaz laughs heartily.
“Refreshing, isn’t it? But I see change, and with change comes what some may view as trouble.” he smiles and Maria shakes her head with annoyance putting her hand up to silence him..
“Fine. Me and my girls protect you from whatever may bother you- but what does this have to do with Amaz?” Maria asks Grace suspiciously. Grace is silent for a moment then looks at Amaz who shrugs his shoulders then nods for her to answer.
“You didn’t think she wasn’t gonna ask questions?” he grins at her already knowing
that Maria will not rest until all is revealed.
“Amaz has decided to date me,” Grace says looking at Maria. Maria’s jaw visibly drops. She darts her eyes at Amaz, then back to Grace. She turns away from her abruptly and gets in Amaz’s face.
“Jesus, Amaz, what do you got cooked up here? Have you lost your damn mind? You are seriously gonna pass this white chica off as your girl?” Maria asks in a angry whisper. Amaz takes her arm and leads her away from the bench gaining some privacy. Grace looks on anxiously, wishing she knew what was going on.
“Why not?” he asks her in a hushed tone, suddenly serious, as if he has to defend the relationship already. “I feel it would to be of a great advantage to me. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that this is the right thing to do. It’s like a door has opened and I have to go through it- I don’t know why, don’t know where it will go- but, for some reason I feel something pulling me through it. Something good. The winds of change are blowing. I am simply going with the flow, instead of against it.”
“That was beautiful, Amaz, but I think you both lost your fucking minds,” Maria says looking from him over to Grace. “This won‘t sit well. You in La Familia can‘t be passing a white girl off as your own. There are rules, Maz,“ she says seriously.
“No one is telling me who I can and can’t fuck,” Amaz says steadily folding his arms stubbornly, Maria smiles as she notices the childish gesture.
“No one is saying that, but you are passing her off as your girl…it ain’t the same. That shit you pulled with Freddie wasn’t fair. There was no way for him to even think that was your girl…It just doesn’t happen,” she gives Amaz a knowing look as he looks at her incredulously that she is so well of such recent events.
“How the fuck would you know about that already?” he asks her stunned.
“Toco called me right before you,” she says smiling too proud of her knowledge.
“You two gotta stop talking behind my back,” he says shaking his head.
“You gotta stop thinking with your dick,” she says challenging him.
“That ain’t even it, Maria. I swear. It’s just something that I feel I need to do. I don’t know why…It’s just a feeling. The change would be good for us,” he says solemnly looking over to Grace on the bench.
“Who am I to stand in the middle of all this change and shit?” Maria smiles and gives her cousin a hug, he returns it gratefully. She loweres her voice slightly speaking directly to Amaz, “If you feel this is the right thing to do, strictly for business reasons, and not no physical guy shit- then I will consider this,” Maria waits for his response.
“This is business, Maria. Strictly business,” Amaz replies putting his hand up in the traditional scouts honor pose.
“Okay, Amaz, if this is what you feel is right, then you got it, “ Maria replies and starts to walk towards Grace again. Maria points to Grace, “Now, I will be watching you like a fucking hawk. I see anything happen to him at all, and you go down. I will bring everything down on you. I will make sure of that. You got me?” Maria gets right in Grace’s face. Grace nods wordlessly.
“I would never want anything to happen to Amaz. I would not be able to live with myself if something happened to him because of me,” she answers her simply. Amaz looks over at Grace, his eyes widen at her statement, but he says nothing. Maria, however, cannot hold back as well as her cousin. She never could. She walks back towards Amaz.
“See, Amaz, This is what I am worried about. Just let me put this out there again, okay? So, maybe I can figure this out” Maria says aloud but it‘s almost like a thought to herself that slipped out. Amaz who nods numbly. Maria turns back to Grace, “Now, what exactly do you think is gonna happen here?”
“I am willing to pay you to keep me safe. That is all. I want to be part of your group. To fit in, you can make that happen,” Grace tells her putting it as simply as she can.
“There’s no way you’re gonna fit in. I ain’t fucking God, greenga. Neither is he,” she says pointing to Amaz. “Not that he don’t think it.” Maria grins at her cousin, and he laughs. “ I can’t control these people and how they feel about you being here.”

“No, you can’t, but I can. I just need a way in. You and Amaz are that way in. Once I am there, things will be better. But, I need two strong people to bring me to the party. Once I am there, I will be able to hang- I just need you to protect what I can’t see, ” Grace states emphatically.
“Okay, so how much money are we talking about?” Maria asks getting down to business.
“How much do you think is fair?” Grace asks her back quickly.
“How much do you think it’s worth to put myself through the trouble and the questions. Shit, I can’t even think of what that would be worth, “ Maria answers, then continues, “ Three hundred a week to start.” He smiles, shaking his head at the figure Maria has thrown out and looks at Grace intently. “I say to start because right now, I don’t know what I’m into- and how hard or easy this will be- so that is my starting figure- my price may go up, or it may go down. I’ll see,” Maria smiles knowing her price is way too high..
“I will pay you two hundred... It‘s all I can afford, ” Grace answers her quietly. “Who knows, in a three weeks you may decide not to charge me at all.”
“I knew you’d get a kick outta her,” Amaz laughs hoping that some kind of ice may start to chip away between these two women.
“You are funny, girl,” Maria says to Grace. “I got friends. What do you got? I don’t
need you, you need me- you keep that in mind.” Maria pauses. “Two hundred? Hmmmm…If you are able to pay me that, I still don’t get why you just don’t pay for a damned private school?“
“I have six hundred dollars…which will buy me three weeks of protection. I think that will be enough…I’m hoping that will be enough. It’s all I have. Six hundred doesn’t buy private school,” she tells Maria solemnly.
“Three weeks?” Maria laughs. “You think after three weeks you’ll just be able to fit right in?”

“I’m gonna try. That’s all I can really do,” Grace answers her honestly. Maria genuinely smiles this time. “Okay, I think we got ourselves a deal. I want my money Monday morning, then we will start. Hell, you might as well go home because I don’t do nothing without the cash up front.”

“Well, then it won’t be a problem to start right now,” Grace says and pulls an envelope out of her bag and hands it to Maria. “You’ll see it’s all there.” Maria peeks into the envelope, flips through the money without taking it out of the envelope then puts it in her purse.
“You always walk around with this much cash?” Maria asks shaking her head. “Shit, this is gonna be harder than I thought. Well, at least you come prepared. I like that,” Maria grins. “Now, I guess we better get you inside. If you want to get an education, you gotta go to school. I have the rest of the day free…”
“Well, I’m not applying today. Today was meant to hook up with you guys and have the weekend to socialize. I am not starting til Monday,” she says looking at them expectantly.
Maria looks at Amaz and shrugs, “So, I guess we better be going shopping, chica. No girl of mine will be dressing like that.” Maria eyes the sweatshirt wrapped around her waist…The ill fitting Capri pants. she shakes her head.
“Now that’s the spirit- go shopping. Be women,” he says as he ducks a slap from Maria.
“Fuck you, Amaz,” Maria grins, “Remember, dear brother, this is for you.”
“I know, I know…I thank you,” Amaz replies. “So, I guess I will meet you at The Dream later tonight. Keep your eyes open and that cell on at all times.”
“I will, take it easy” Maria tells him. She turns to Grace, “You stay here, I will be back with the car.” Maria starts to walk towards the parking lot taking her phone out of her purse. “ Shit, I gotta figure out what to tell my girls. Fucking running with a guera. What am I thinking y’all?” she mutters to herself as she walks away.
“Well, I guess I should thank you,” Grace says to Amaz as they watch Maria walk away.
“For what?” he says absently stretching his arms out.
“If you hadn’t convinced her, she never would’ve went for it. Why? Why did you change your mind?” she asks him her green eyes meeting his.
“I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I just feel it. Felt it since I saw you for the first time- you are an opportunity. I don’t know why or how- but you are going to change things, or I need you to change things. Hell, I don’t really know. I just know that I am willing to find out where this hand is going to lead me. Good enough?” he says and smiles a brilliant smile at her.
“Good enough, “ she answers and smiles back at him, feelings of warmth filling up inside her. It’s a good feeling. A red Camaro blazes up to the curb and beeps. Out of the driver’s side steps a gorgeous Latina in a body baring dress and heels. She walks over around the front of the car and halts leaning against the hood of the car’s hood like a one of those girls at a car show. Grace looks at her questioningly.
“Who is that?” Grace asks already thinking she knows the answer.
“That, my angel, is your competition. My bitch and Camaro,” Amaz says slyly. “You didn’t think I had no other ladies now, did you?”
“I never thought that. I guess I … well,” Garce stammers slightly. “Are you serious? I mean, you and the “bitch”?” Grace asks with an innocent grin.
Amaz laughs at this, “Well, I guess so- we do some serious shit.” He gets up from the bench wiping his hands on his jeans.
A pimped out pink Cadillac pulls behind the Camaro. Grace can see Maria in the driver’s seat. She exits the car and walks slowly by the Camaro and the girl. She gives the girl a disgusted look and shakes her head dramatically. Grace notices Maria doesn’t say anything to the girl as she passes her.
“Well, looks like I’m outta here, Amaz says steadily to Grace. “Maria will take care of you now. Adios mi blanca angel,” Amaz says and leans down placing a soft kiss on her cheek. He turns and slowly walks toward the street leaving her alone on the bench. She sees him stop to talk to Maria on the his way there. Grace watches them and the girl by the car as she waits. She feels the jealousy start to well up in her gut.
“You sure about this, Mejo?” Maria asks him as they stop in passing.
“I’m sure,” Amaz replies looking back at Grace. “Time to stir the pot.”
“You are crazy, but hell, nothing new about that. I see nothing changed with the chucha cuerera,” Maria says pointing over to the Camaro.
“Maria, is that anyway to talk about your cousin’s lady?” he grins mischievously, not
really caring about the crack.
“Lady? Please, don’t make me laugh, Amaz. She’s a slut. You just watch that tramp. She’ll wind up getting pregnant just to get her claws in you,” she shakes her head with contempt.
“So hard on everyone, my dear cousin,” he says shaking his head in mock disappointment.
“I have to be… someone’s gotta watch out for you” Maria says back.
“Thank you, but don’t waste your worries on me- I am fine, better than fine,“ he replies and gives her a hug. “Take care of her, Maria- and take care of yourself.” he says as he glances over at Grace.
“She’ll be okay. Once, I’m through with her that is, “ Maria smiles. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, adios, “ Amaz says putting his hand up as he saunters toward his car.
Maria walks over to Grace and sits next to her on the bench. They both watch as Amaz grabs the girl at the car. Amaz kisses her deeply on the hood on his car, his hands exploring every inch of her, it seems. He pulls away from her and leads her to the passenger side door. He opens it for her, and she steps into the car giving the girls a wave as she does. He closes her door, then gives a wave and walks to the driver’s side. The car speeds away.
“The only good thing about this is that maybe he might be drawn away from that slut long enough to come to his senses,” Maria snarls watching the car pull down the block.
“So, I gather she is not a friend of yours,” Grace asks her eyes on the car, as well.
“Magdelena, named for the slut she is, and the saint she isn’t. Crazy bitch. She’d fuck anything with legs, but now she got Amaz so she don’t have to.” Maria explains bitterness lining her voice. “She is no good, she is trouble. Hell, maybe as much as you are- but right now I gotta get him away from her. And you may be able to do just that.”
“I could try,” Grace says to her smiling with a sudden determination.
“Hell, girl, you don’t gotta try. You doing something right. He’s got something for you- cause everything he has told me is pointing at you. I don’t get it yet, but I will,” Maria says scratching her head.
“So, how long has Amaz been with this Magdelena for? Are they serious?” Grace says as they start walking towards the car.
“Serious meaning what? She’s a slut, and he’s no better- but he is a man, and that is expected. Serious, like are they together, like a couple? Well, he goes with other women- yes, but just as flings. She seems to be the constant. Does he care about her? I don’t know. I think he likes her, he likes women in general. But, if you are asking about if he loves her- I say no,” Maria says plainly shaking the image of the girl out of her head. When they get to the car and Maria motions for Grace to get in.
“So where are we going?” Grace asks.
“We are going to get you some real clothes, show off that bod. Can’t be walking around with a fuckin bag over you like that,” Maria laughs. “Shit girl, how do you leave the house with something like that on?”
“I figured it was best not to draw attention to myself,” Grace replied looking down at her baggy sweatshirt, and laughed. “Pretty bad, heh?”
“Very bad. But, I guess you have a point there. Hey, but now that you are running with me. We gotta show you off,” Maria grinned. “Barrio chic- I think you can dig.”
“Well, I am willing,” Grace answers and looks out the window at the neighborhood around her.
“So, what brought you to this beautiful part of the world?” Maria asks as she starts the car. “Must be some hard times- people usually try to get outta here, not come in,” Maria says innocently, but deep down is hoping to delve up any info she can on the new kid in town and why she has seemed to have clung herself to her brother, and to her.
“I go where I have to,” Grace pauses and flips her hair back. “It’s not like I really have a choice in what my parents want. I do what I’m told. So I’m here,” Grace answers modestly.
Maria takes that in and nods, “I guess you go with your family. That makes sense. Don’t talk much about yourself, huh?” Maria asks her trying to dig a little deeper.
“Not much to say, really,” Grace replies looking out the window.
“Well, just being friendly,” Maria answers her back. “Fine, you don’t got to tell me anything. But I warn you that I will figure you out- I figure everyone out sooner or later,” Maria challenges her then honks and gives the finger to the car in front of her.
“Thank you for being friendly and trying to make this easier,” Grace says sincerely finally looking at Maria. “I guess I really don’t want to talk about my family. Oh, and I invite you to try and figure me out- I want to know what you find,” Grace challenges her back with a sweet smile.
“Shit, girl. If you weren’t paying me, I’d slap you. You are a mystery, I’ll give you that. You may be able to play this mystery shit with Amaz, but I ain’t all googley eyed over you. I will figure you out and you better hope I like what I find,” Maria says and looks right into Grace’s eyes. Grace looks defiantly back at her, neither girl looks away. Finally a honk from a car behind them stops the face-off in the car.
“But, I think we gonna have some fun. We needed a change around here. Things getting too boring ,” Maria says changing the subject. “Shit if you don’t seem familiar to me in some way,” Maria looks at Grace who looks down at her lap. “ I just can’t place where I would have seen you before- hell, I don’t know many white folks.”
“I don’t know, but let’s just focus on the fun part,” Grace says trying to change the subject. “I definitely need some of that,” Grace states dramatically as she looks out the window again.
“Okay, no more prying- let’s just go have some fun. Girl, when I am through with you, Amaz tongue is gonna be hanging to his feet. Shit, I can’t wait to see Magdelena when she sees you,” Maria giggles to herself.
“So what is our plan?” Grace asks turning to Maria, the excitement starting to form.
“Well, you are going to get done over by me, personally, which alone is worth the money you gave me before,” Maria says pushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Then we will hit The Dream later on after I introduce you to my girls.” Maria tells her as they pull into the mall parking lot.
“What is The Dream?” Grace asks a little nervous, but excited nonetheless.
“A dance club kinda rave party we hit on the weekends to blow off some steam. It’s cool. Slamming music, cool people. It’s our place. You’ll be safe.” Maria tells her as she pulls into the parking space.
“Will Amaz be there?” Grace asks her quietly.
“Yes, he will be there, “ Maria smiles. “Shit, this is gonna be fun. And to think I thought this was gonna be a boring night. Hell, girl, you ready to give it up?”
“I guess so. Let’s go, “ Grace answers and follows Maria tentatively into the mall.

Amaz and Grace....Chapter One....any feedback is appreciated

2008-11-12T16:25:00.001-05:00

Amaz and Grace Copyright 2007
By Annemarie Bogart

Chapter 1: The Deal (revised)

“Good morning, Chica” says the large Hispanic driver. There is no verbal response as Grace drops her coins in the receptacle and tentatively walks to the back of the bus. Her stomach is in knots thinking about her first day at her new school and meeting him again face to face. She hangs onto the overhead bar as she searches for a seat, stumbling awkwardly as the bus takes off again. A couple of Hispanic girls whisper to each other and giggle. A young mocha skinned teenage boy looks her up and down provocatively making Grace’s cheeks redden slightly. Finally, finding a seat, she sits down heavily. She looks out the window avoiding the stares she can feel on her. She opens her backpack trying to bide time. She pulls the picture from the protection of her notebook. Losing herself in his eyes, Grace barely notices the bus has stopped. She glances casually out the window. There it is, in all its deteriorated glory; William Harrison High School. Grace hurriedly tucks the photo safely in her notebook and rushes off the bus.
The large two story faded stucco building is set back ominously off the main street. The bus drives off leaving Grace on the curb surveying the grounds around her. She spots a few kids hanging out on the front tattered lawn. Some are laughing, others practicing new dance moves.. She spots a few boys throwing a football. The distinct smell of marijuana drifts through the air. There is rap music blaring from car speakers, different songs seemingly battling each other in volume. Most of the students are Hispanic, a fact she knew already. Gang members are well represented by their colors and blatant tattoos. This is a rough school, ranked one of the worst in the city, another fact she had been privy to months before when she did her research. Graffiti covers certain sections of the building, testament that the school board has simply given up on washing it away. A security guard casually passes students through a metal detector at the front entrance; somehow this does little to ease her mind. She spots two girls getting into a hair-pulling punching brawl in the front of the school. “Nice,” she thinks to herself, shaking her head. To her far left a group of boys are shouting sexual slang to a couple of scantily clad girls that are walking by them. The girls smile in appreciation that they are noticed. “Just keeps getting better and better,” she says softly to herself. “Maybe this was a mistake. I could just turn around and get back on the bus…pretend none of this ever happened.”
She shields the sun from her eyes and looks toward the northwest corner of the front courtyard. That is where she sees him, exactly where she knew he would be… the boy from the picture. All thoughts of turning back immediately fade. The boy is wearing a black well worn leather jacket. He is surrounded by a group of equally rough looking boys, the kind you cross the street to avoid. Grace takes a deep breath. “This is it,” she says to herself and walks defiantly in his direction. She ignores the taunts she receives as she walks slowly and with determination directly to him. She notices he is looking away from her and doesn’t notice her approach. She’s close enough now that two of his friends protectively block her path.“Hey, look what we got here, Miguel,” says the shorter boy as he eyes Grace and walks completely around her absorbing every angle of her.“New meat, hey Ricky,” replies Miguel, as he touches her blond hair as she tries to pass. Grace forcefully slaps his hand away from her avoiding eye contact. Her eyes remain focused only on the boy she has waited so long to see, never wavering. “Hey, this one is feisty, Miguel,” Ricky laughs. “Maybe she thinks she is out of our league.” He turns to Grace, “Hey, Snow White, you think you’re too good for us? Is that it?” She notices two more boys walking towards them. She sighs heavily. This male attention, it is not new to her. Long blond hair, toned proportioned body, flawless pale complexion: the perfect media standard package. It’s been a curse as well as a blessing. Right now, curse being the appropriate choice. “Who’s this, Miguel? Friend of yours?” says the very dark skinned boy with a visible jagged scar across his left cheek. “I’m Toco. Welcome to Harrison,” he states evenly checking her out from head to toe. Grace tries to avoid his eyes, not out of fear, but rather her own personal way of keeping control of what little she can. Her eyes stay with her target sitting on the graffiti scrawled picnic bench. He seems to be in the process of giving a slight pat on the backside of a very voluptuous Hispanic girl. The girl laughs a bit too loudly, a bit too fake and takes a seat at the bench next to the picnic table. Toco follows Grace’s stare over his shoulder. He shakes his head adamantly. “Amaz, looks like you got company.” Toco says and makes an exaggerated step sideways making way for her to get to Amaz, the reason Grace is here. Amaz looks over when he hears his friend call his name. His vision is partly blinded from just looking toward the sun, so he can’t quite make her out yet, but he’s pretty sure it’s a female. His eyes start to focus on the incredibly beautiful girl standing there- she looks almost like an angel. Almost too beautiful to be real…especially in this place. The girl who was sitting on the bench, the one that Grace saw flirting with him earlier stands up and starts approaching her fast.“I think you’re lost Cinderella,” the girl starts, waving her well manicured hands wildly, “you better get your white ass…”Amaz interrupts the girl abruptly. “Rosa, shut it. Go get me my cigarettes from the car.” Amaz says evenly pointing towards the parking lot. The girl looks at him incredulously.“Amaz, who does this greenga…,” she begins to plead, pointing a red dagger-like fingernail at Grace, but Amaz holds up his hand to silence her.“Rosa, now,” Amaz states calmly. Rosa gives Grace the finger and walks slowly towards the parking lot to retrieve the cigarettes, her annoyance amplified with every step.Amaz stands from the bench. He is about six foot one, and strikingly handsome with chiseled good looks yet with a toughness that makes him seem almost untouchable. His hair is jet black and wavy; he wears it longer than the rest of his gang. As he moves closer she sees his eyes are a more piecing hazelnut brown than she has thought. Those eyes rest solely on her. Amaz stares at the girl for an uncomfortable amount of time, in Grace’s estimation anyhow. He is still trying to grasp the fact that she is real. Regaining composure, he finally speaks. “Please come,” he states, beckoning her closer. As she gets closer, he realizes the closer she gets the more beautiful she becomes. She walks gracefully towards him with steady even steps. There isn’t a trace of fear in her eyes. Only determination. When she is about five feet away she stops and looks up at him. He looks into her surreal sea green eyes as she speaks. “My name is Grace. I would like to offer you a proposition, but I would like to be able to speak with you in private,” she looks around at the surrounding group. “That is if you are sure you’ll be safe.” Amaz grins at her bravado, and gives a nod to Toco who abruptly comes from behind to frisk her. He takes his time caressing certain parts of her, making her extremely uncomfortable. She is shocked and slightly taken aback, but takes it in stride. There is no place for intimidation here.“You never can be too careful,” Toco says as he steps away from his completed job. “Shit I enjoyed that,” he mutters softly as he backs away. Amaz’s smile fades and he waves for Toco to back off.“Now, what is this about?” Amaz asks intrigued to find out why she is here and what she could possibly want from him. Drugs probably, he figures.“I said I needed to talk to you alone, remember?” she reminds him looking around at the small crowd that is intently listening.“Fine,” replies Amaz shrugging in compliance. “Come into my office,” he says as he walks over to the janitor’s outdoor shed that is a few feet away from them. The old shed appears to have been white at one time, now it is grey and is partly overgrown with shrubs that camouflage it from the street. He shoves his hand in his pocket and retrieves the key from a small key ring. He unlocks the door and holds it open for her. “ Vamonos, mas bonita nina, I’m a very busy guy,” he smiles chivalrously.“Hey, Maz, don’t wear her out. Save some for the rest of us,” one of the boys yells as they enter the shed.
Amaz shuts the door, closing out the follow-up rants that will no doubt accompany the first. The janitor’s closet reveals a very small office space equipped with card table and four aluminum chairs, cards left over from the last game still there. In the far corner is a twin-sized bed covered with an old Mexican blanket. There is an old wooden mirror above the bed. A small refrigerator is seen in the other corner. There’s an old bucket with a mop in the far corner, almost as a prop, because its obvious no one has used it in some time.“You are much smarter than them,” she states solemnly nodding towards the door. “Which makes what I am going to ask of you much easier.”“Now, you have my attention,” he replies leaning casually against the wall. “What is it I can do for you?”“Well, I guess the best way to say this is just to come right out with it,” she says evenly, and she takes a deep breath. “I need for you be my boyfriend, well, more like my protector,” Grace blurts out quickly and holds out her hands instictively to nonverbally silence a stunned Amaz. He shakes his head almost immediately. “I know this sounds stupid, but if you think about it, it really isn’t. It, this plan of mine, is essential for my survival here.” He tries to keep his initial shock to himself, unaware if he has succeeded, and fully much doubting that if that would be even possible.“Well, I gotta say, I never saw that coming. It’s usually kinda hard to surprise me. I can’t say I’m not a bit interested in what you have to say, but…” he begins trying to play this as cool as he can, but is curtly interrupted by her.“Please, let me explain this better,” she says approaching him slowly, then stops. “Without sounding completely conceited, it is obvious the attention I am going to get at this school. It is no big secret the way I look and I feel that it is a hindrance to me being accepted at here. The guys will be all over me, but not for the right reasons. The girls will just hate, period. I want to avoid all that.” She looks over at him and he nods for her to continue. “My skin color, on top of the way I look may become a problem- especially for the girls. The attention I get, well, I am not new to it- I have been getting male attention for years. With that comes the hatred of women. It is nobody’s fault, I guess- It is programmed into us. People don’t know how to react to people without seeing first how others react to them- it’s like everyone acts as their friends do,” she pauses and looks into his eyes. She has his full attention. “This brings me to why I need you. I feel safe saying that you are the leader of this place- what you do is what others look to- but what you do is not to be questioned by others. Am I right?”“So far so good,” he says looking down at his hands, intertwines them and gives them a stretch. “But I still don’t get what you want me to do for you, and what in turn you will do for me.”“So, my proposition is to vow to be your girl, and only your girl, until we graduate. I will not interact with any other man in this school. I will be yours and yours alone within this place. That I can promise you, “she looks at him, her eyes unable to keep the pleading from them. She leans against the table for support awaiting his response. “Okay, I think I understand this a little. You want me to be with you? But, I don’t even know who you are, anything about you. I am intrigued to say the least. Please continue,” he tells her as he walks slowly around the room trying to take all this in.“Well, not to sound full of myself, which is how it will come across, but I swear it is not the way I view myself, but as others do- I would be, I guess, a trophy for you. Almost a prized possession that only you have access to, but everyone else wishes they had,” she stops and looks at him.“Full of yourself does seem to hit it on the head, I’d call it gallona, but I can’t say that you don’t have a point,” he says and looks at her seriously. “I don’t understand why you need me for this, any cholo would do- looking the way you do, you should be okay- hell, I’ll take you out if you want…but a boyfriend, I am not.”“No, no- maybe I haven’t explained it all that well. Any cholo won’t do. I don’t want to be part of the gang life. I know what those guys do. I know you are different from them, your crew. That is what I need, “she says solemnly. “And, I don’t wish for you to be only with me. Hell, you can do anything you want with anyone you want,” she says throwing her hands up in the air. “It will not affect me- all I need is for you to protect me and let this place know that I am yours and only yours.”“So, let me get this straight…I get to be with anyone I want… and it doesn’t affect anything?” he glances at her and she nods. “This is starting to get very interesting,” Amaz walks over towards the bed and sits down, “So, when do I get to test the merchandise?” He pats the bed and grins.Grace leans against the table and puts her head down. He sees her shoulders slump slightly but ever so quickly she recovers. She straightens herself up and looks up and meets his gaze defiantly. “That is another part of the plan I haven’t told you- I will not have sex with you, or anyone else for that matter. My reputation is to remain intact and clean. I am to remain a virgin. That is a big part of why I am doing this, to keep what is mine, mine,” she finishes and he starts to laugh. He puts his hand on his head in disbelief.“Okay, let me get this- you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend, and in return I get no play from you at all? Come on…Something doesn’t sound right.” He looks at her searching for something. “Why would I agree to that? I’m not getting anything in return. And what makes you think I wouldn’t just take what I wanted in the first place?” he says seductively. He stands up and approaches her slowly. Her stomach leaps not quite sure in fear or passion. He grabs her firmly around the waist. He looks down at her and she boldly meets his gaze.“Because, I think deep down you agree with what I have to say,” she answers him in a slow steady voice. “That deep down you believe in untouched beauty and preserving what should be preserved. That deep down you are chivalrous…that you are truly a man.” Her eyes remain locked on his, almost challenging him. “Well, seems you don’t know shit about me, except that I definitely am a man, and having you around me is going to bring that out,” he says pushing her back away from him softly, shaking his head as if trying to rid it of unwanted thoughts. He turns and walks back to the bed. He opens the small makeshift nightstand drawer and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He draws one out of the pack and lights it, deeply inhaling the nicotine as this proposition swirls in his brain. He looks over at her and he sees that she is still staring at him.“But, you know about the kept word and honor…If you accept my proposition than I know that I will have your word,” she says dramatically, hints of desperation starting to filter into her voice.“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” he says blowing out a cloud of smoke and starts to approach her again. She notices a bit of impatience in his eyes. She instinctively backs up into the table. “I still don’t get anything in return here. I’m giving you protection, and I’m not getting anything. I don’t see how this helps me.”
Grace tries again,” Okay, lets say you have sex with me, right now, against my will. What good will it have done you? Now, you are back to what you were a few minutes ago, before I arrived.” She looks over at him and sees him smile and shrug. She continues, “No new opportunities would have been presented to you- I would be tainted meat now- nothing special- nothing to give you- nothing to make your position greater. And what did you get – sex? Something you’ve had, I’m sure plenty of times before- and will have plenty of times after. Something meaningless, that could be something great. I can feel it…” Grace puts her hand over her heart emphasizing her point, “that you believe in honor, in chivalry, in tradition, and in preserving what is pure…You have to…it is my only chance. You are my only chance,” Grace ends finally, her voice strained with emotion. She sits down heavily at the table. He watches her closely as she sits down. She looks defeated. She puts her head down ever so slightly as if a big weight has just been released off of her chest. Amaz takes in the scene- she does look so innocent, yet so remarkably beautiful- but so defenseless.
“Let’s just say, for arguments sake that I agree to this,” he starts to say and she looks up at him with a slight glint in her eye- almost a tear. “Now, I can promise you that if you are with me that no guy in this place will look at you sideways- you were right about that- but I can’t control what the ladies, to use the term loosely, may do to you. In fact, I can probably think of one or two off hand that won’t be happy with this arrangement at all. Now, I can’t do anything to help you there, that’s chick shit.” Amaz shrugs, then folds his arms awaiting her response.“Well, I’ve thought of that- but, I will still need your help,” Grace starts, but pauses as she notices him laugh slightly and shake his head. “How did I know that I would somehow be involved in this angle, too?” he smiles as Grace eagerly tells him her plan. He can’t help but like her. She’s so different than the girls he knows. “Well, I realize you can’t be there all the time to help me against the girls… I will be in bathrooms, in gym class- plenty of vulnerable spots. You can’t help me there…but Maria can,” she says finally and immediately his smile fades. Maria was his first cousin, and he loved her like a sister. He protected her like a treasure. They were very close- lived in the same two family house since they were born. Maria was probably the female equivalent of Amaz in the school- tough as nails, a fighter, and a leader. “See, if you can get Maria to help me- try to introduce us, put some words in for me, then I think this may work,” Grace pleads with him seeing that his interest has almost instantly dropped.“Hold on,” he says firmly shaking his head.. “Fine, you want to deal with me, no problem- I can decide for myself- but why should I pull Maria into this shit? Hell, why put her in the fire? For you?” The anger rises evidently in his voice; she can hear it straight away. “How do you know all this shit about me… about my family? Are you a fucking cop?” He looks at her hard, making her feel a little uneasy.“I did my research,” she replies simply, not wanting to give him anything else to go on, hoping he will accept it. “And no, I’m not a cop.”“Please, girl, I don’t even know you. Can’t help you with the chicks, sorry,” he shakes his head firmly. “I won’t talk to Maria- although if you had her on your side- you’d be safe as a kitten.”“There’s got to be a way- let me talk to her myself. Let me explain this to her,” she frantically says standing up grabbing a tight hold of his arms. “This has to happen or I will not be safe here.”“What can I tell you? Sink or swim,” he says matter-of-factly. Amaz watches the hope fade in her eyes as she drops her hands from his arms.“Well, I guess that’s it then,” Grace states, “I will see you around. Thanks for nothing.” She turns abruptly away from him. As she starts to leave, he grabs her gently by the arm. She stops and tenderly touches the top of his hand. “Hold it. You will leave when I tell you it is time. Until then, sit down,” he commands her with the authority in his voice. Grace sits down and folds her arms across her chest. She stares at him hard doing her best not to let any tears fall. “Now, for someone who came in here all prepared for the rest of the year with this grand plan, you certainly give up easy enough. Shit, girl, you didn’t even beg or nothing,” he says trying to make light of the situation. Amaz looks over at her, one lone tear falls down her cheek. She would do anything to pull back that tear, but realizes now the impossibility of it.”Don’t start this shit now,” he says grabbing a paper towel and hands it to Grace. She takes it gingerly and wipes her eyes quickly, and with too much force, embarrassed that she has shown him any vulnerability. “Now, what else can you offer besides your looks and my exclusive rights to you- Jesus, I can’t believe I am even considering this shit.” “Well, I guess my brains. I am an honor student, always have been. I speak four languages. I am very well read in matters of business and psychology. I can be someone for you to talk to- I can help you,” she states matter-of-factly the hope and confidence quickly regaining in her voice. “I can be your eyes when you are not watching, your ears for the things no one else will tell you. I will help you to get through this year and graduate.” She smiles at her own words, very pleased with herself and amazed that her mood could elevate so quickly.“What are you talking about? Now, you want me to study with you? Look, maybe you have me confused with someone else. I am mainly here to do business, not to sit my ass in a fucking classroom. This ain’t no TV show, Grace. I’m not a nice guy,” he looks at her trying to make her understand. “I hope you know that- I thought seeing you knew everything else that maybe you realized that. Maybe you don’t… but I am telling you now.”“I know who you are. I know what you are. I also know that you are smarter than these people…That you are meant for greater things then they have to offer. That you can become what they cannot- and to do that you need to be educated- I will help you, that is all I meant.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “Please, don’t think I am naïve to the life you lead. I am not. I understand it perfectly- I just feel that you can become great, instead of dying over a ridiculous burst of bravado when you are eighteen years old.”“So, you offer me, what? A study partner? Tell me, when does biology 3 come into play in my life? In my death? It doesn’t… like all these other fucking stupid ass classes. I told you, Grace…I am here for business.” He grabs a chair and sits down at the table blatantly upset at where the conversation has turned. He glares at her.“And what? Do you expect your business to end when you get out of this school? That’s a pretty short-lived business. Don’t you want to learn how to expand, how to make things better?” Grace replies back forcefully; meeting his stare, not daring to look away.“Listen, I’m in a gang that’s connected to bigger people, Grace,” he explains. That’s the breaks here- that is my life. I’m not going to be a lawyer, or a doctor. I have faced that fact. And I can live with it,” he says with a slight hint of regret in his voice that she doesn’t pick up on. But he hears it, and he wonders why he is opening up too much emotion to someone he doesn’t know. “I never said that you should be a doctor or a lawyer. I said to get yourself educated. Listen to me, just for a minute. Now, just tell me this, all these cholos? Even the ones you would have thought did good- where are they today? Dead? In prison?” she asks challenging him. “If that is the way it has to go down, then I am ready for that,” Amaz replies, almost a bit too rehearsed. “But, my point is, that you shouldn’t have to settle for that- that you should want to be smart enough to run things right. You should be involved in all aspects of your business- be very weary of everything,” she tells him carefully. “Sure school has some subjects we don’t think we need, but in actuality any knowledge is better than no knowledge. Right?” she asks him.“I put my time in, Grace. Listen, I can’t sit in a fuckin classroom no more. I wish life was so simple, but I got things to do now. Can’t be wasting my time in there when my customers are out there,” he tells her pointing at the shed door.“I don’t believe you feel that way. You weren’t be in the position you are in if you weren’t smart…” she says almost in a whisper. “Enough,” he says, the anger starting to trickle into his voice. He gets up from his chair. “I never said that, and you would be wise not to either.”“If you would have let me finish, you would have heard what I had to say,” she says quietly but firmly.“As you wish, please continue,” he says sitting back down taking another drag off his cigarette.“I was saying that you are a leader,” Grace continues. “To hold that position usually requires you to be smart, smarter than the rest. I am just saying that you should never stop learning is all- keeps you informed on a world that keeps changing.”“On the contrary, I don’t intend to stop learning, guapa. But, where I study has changed.” Amaz gets up and walks over to her. He places his hand on the back of her chair. “You have definitely intrigued me, my Grace. I have to say that if nothing else, you could definitely make me laugh, or at least stroke my ego for me. ”“Does that mean you say yes?” she asks with a hint of excitement in her voice.
“That means I will think about it,” he purrs to her and a smile immediately forms onher full lips. “As for Maria, I will get you two together- whatever happens there is completely up to her.”
“So when will I get an answer, I mean about you- and me.” Grace asks enthusiastically.“When I know, you will know. How is that?” he replies giving her the grin that has melted many hearts while flicking his cigarette across the room onto the dirt encrusted ground.“I guess I will take that. But one more thing- no one can know about our arrangement- no one. Okay?” she asks him solemnly.“Whatever you say… Who would believe this anyhow? This is your thing. But, one more thing- I think I should get to at least inspect the merchandise, since I can’t actually test it. Hell, you could be a mess under those clothes. I have a reputation to uphold,” he smiles at her mischievously. Grace looks at him, objection in her eyes. “Listen, you need me, I really don’t need you for anything but to boost my self-confidence, remember?” he challenges her.Grace grins at his statement and lifts her sweatshirt over her head without bothering to answer him, revealing a perfectly toned body, more athletic than he had thought. She then unfastened her Capri pants and pulls them down to her ankles revealing her lace thong. Her body seems like it came out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog and this was without any airbrushing. Amaz tried not to reveal how impressed he was but his eyes revealed the truth. He was pleased and he finally let it out with a low whistle.“So, do you have any flaws?” he jokes, unable to tear his eyes from her.“I’m sure you will be the first to let me know,” she retorts as she starts to pull her capris back on.“Damn, girl. You are fine,” he steals a last glance at her before she pulls her white tank top over her head. She goes to put on her sweatshirt.“Leave that off,” he says more of a command than a request. “Makes you look stupid.” She looks at him questioningly. “You need to fit in, not separate yourself. On a ninety degree day, people don’t wear sweatshirts.”“And they wear leather jackets?” she smiles mischievously.“The jacket I have no control of, it’s a way people can spot me. But that sweatshirt, I can control. Leave it off,” he states calmly, giving her a once over. “Shit, I may not be able to control myself- you may need protection from me.”“I have your word, that is all the protection I need.” she says, as fact, not opinion.“You sound so sure of yourself,” he says shaking his head slightly and grinning. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”“I am,” she concludes, and looks at him intently. Their eyes lock suddenly, and for just a moment time seems to stand still. Amaz blinks first breaking the mood suddenly, feeling like he has awoken from some odd dream. She is so different but yet she seems so familiar.“Let’s go, Blanca angel. I have some people to see now, ” he says as he starts for the door trying to get himself back into the business-mode.“Um…about our arrangement? Is it a deal?” she asks as he begins to open the door.“I said I will let you know- got it?” he says holding the door open for her.“Okay,” she says, sounding more nervous than she would have liked. “You let me know.” As they exit the shed, Amaz’s group is standing near the bench. Nervously, Grace smoothes down her tank top. She looks around at all the eyes on her. There are a few other guys there now, who look more than a little impatient.“Hey man, what is this? We’ve been waiting, Esse,” a guy in the red bandanna shouts. “Let’s make a deal.”“That is why we are all here, Freddie. Let’s get to it,” Amaz says and turns to Grace. “Adios, guera. It was an eye opener,” he purrs as he softly cups her chin, giving her a wink. Grace starts to slowly walk past the guys towards the school. Suddenly, one of the new guys gets in front of her blocking her path.“Hey, Manny, check out this guera. I’d eat this white meat any day,” he laughs to his friend. The other guys start in on the banter. Whistling, the cat calls… She tries to block the noise out as she tries to pass them. The guy, the one she thinks he called Freddie starts to get uncomfortably close to Grace. He gets in her path and she stops dead in her tracks. Within seconds, Amaz steps in between them, putting his hand forcefully onto the boy’s chest.“Freddie, you better know whose property you are fucking with before you fuck with it,” Amaz growls menacingly at the guy, who Grace has figured by now that this is definitely Freddie. “Maybe your momma didn’t teach you no proper manners, hey? You don’t treat a lady like that, correction you don’t treat MY lady like that. You get it,” Amaz says, not asks, evenly. He then looks up at the stunned circle, “You all dig that?” he yells emphasizing his point. “Go sit over there,” Amaz quietly says to her. She nods and walks quickly over to the picnic table and sits down. She tries desperately to conceal a satisfied grin, as well, as attempting to quell her heart that feels like its beating a million miles an hour.“Freddie, it seems you disrespected me in my home- I must ask you to get the fuck outta here before I have to put a cap in your ass,” Amaz says as he pats the bulge apparent through his shirt on his right hip. “Yo man, I didn’t know that was your lady, man. Yo, I didn’t know,” Freddie says putting his hands up emphatically and backing away. “Amaz, I never woulda talked no shit to your girl, man… You know me, man,” Freddie pleads, not lowering his hands.“I’ll give you a minute to get off my block. After that, you are dead. Starting now,” Amaz says dramatically glancing at his Rolex. The other guys are looking at each other not quite believing what is going on.“Amaz, man, what gives with this?” Toco begins, but Amaz puts up his hand to silence him.
“Toco, don’t tell me my business,“ Amaz says sternly turns back to Freddie, “You got 50 seconds left.”Freddie looks around and signals to his friends to leave. “This took a long time to set up man. It wouldn’t be right to fuck this up because of some misunderstanding,” Manny offers as he backs away.
“The fuck up happened when this guy came into my house and try to fuck with my shit. I don’t go for that. Respect was not given here. Business deal is off,” Amaz sneers to Freddie. “40 seconds, you better get moving. You may be fast, but I don’t think you can outrun lead.”“Come on guys. Vamonos,” Freddie says to his posse. “Amaz, this is a mistake, but I have to respect your wishes. Adios.” With that Freddie and his crew turn and start walking towards the street, not turning back.“All shall come to pass. Adios muchachos,” Amaz says cordially, as he gives them a over exaggerated wave. “Ay te huatcho,” he sneers his warning at Freddie. He turns and starts walking slowly over to bench where Grace is sitting. Grace watches the whole thing go down. She eyes Freddie walking away with his crew. She sees Toco shake his head as Amaz walks away. Toco shake hands with Freddie as he passes him. She sees Toco and Freddie exchange quiet words between each other in a moment’s time. Then she watches Freddie continue off the school grounds. Amaz approaches the bench where she sits patiently. “So, how was that, my Grace? Convincing enough for you?” Amaz grins as he sits next to her on the bench and looks over to his group. Toco looks the most angry, as the rest of the guys just seem confused. Grace looks and sees Toco muttering to himself and shaking his head and bee lining it straight for them.“Amaz, what the fuck was that all about? You know how much we did for that? How much money we just lost on that shit? What the fuck are you thinking, man?” Toco yells unable to contain himself.Amaz sits back on the bench calmly, “It wasn’t right, Toco. He was not worth the effort.” He takes a cigarette out and lights it, his nonchalance really aggravating his friend.“What are you talking about? We had a deal here, and it falls apart because of that, some greenga” Toco yells and points to Grace. Grace looks down at her feet, not wanting to be in the middle of this. “I don’t even want to know what you are thinking, man. Shit, the day you are led around by your dick, shit, I thought it wouldn’t happen,” Toco says challenging him, unable to control his emotions.“Be careful, Toco,” Amaz cautions his friend because no matter how close they may be, no one talks to Amaz that way, not in front of the crew. He pats Grace gently on the knee. He takes a drag on his cigarette then lets a slow cloud of smoke out before answering his friend. “This little angel actually helped us out. I found out last night that this guy,” Amaz points disgustedly towards the street where Freddie’s crew is simultaneously rolling off the block, “was double dealing and making back deals with Antoine. I had to come up with a way to cut him loose without tipping him off that I knew what was going down. Just so happens, this very lovely gringita gave me the excuse I needed to get rid of him- all tied up in a bow. End to that. Discussion over.” He looks defiantly at his friend, and smiles to himself very satisfied. Grace looks over at Amaz with genuine surprise as the explanation to what just transpired is revealed.“So that chivalry shit was bullshit?” Toco laughs as Amaz nods slightly, shrugging his shoulders with innocence. “Shit, Amaz, you are a piece of work. Fuck, and smart, too,” He pats Amaz on the shoulder. “So, how did you find out about Freddie?”“I have my eyes open all the time- I never sleep. You should know that, mi amigo,” Amaz tells Toco returning the pat with a sharp jab to the ribs.“Yeah, I know that, man,” Toco stammers through the stab of pain, too much bravado to admit it hurt at all. He looks around the courtyard. “Shit, it’s too fuckin hot to chill here, man.” He wipes the sweat from his brow.“I’m with you on that, esse. Get the guys and pick up some cervasas then head to the club. I’ll meet you there, “ Amaz said. “Oh, and get my bitchin’ Camaro over here now.”“Will do, man,” Toco says to Amaz, and smiles slyly at Grace. “Nice meeting you. “He extends his hand to which she shakes gently. “If he gets sick of you, I’ll be glad to take over.” Toco backs off slowly as Amaz shoots him a disapproving look. Toco yells to the others, “We’re outta here, partners. Vamonos.” The group disperses slowly amid blurts of cursing and horsing around while walking towards their cars on the street. They leave Amaz and Grace alone at the bench.“So, I guess you could say that I came at a good time,” Grace says to Amaz almost a touch of disappointment in her voice.“Impeccable timing. Couldn’t have asked for a better solution to my problem,” Amaz grins and takes a long drag on his Marlboro. “Hell, you may be more valuable than I thought. Shit, I can use you as a way of getting rid of a lot of shit. No questions asked. Amaz takes out his cell and dials a number, “Yo, Maria. I need to see you right now.” He pauses slightly listening to her slightly rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you and your friends could miss a meal,” he laughs holding the phone slightly away from his ear protecting it from the increasing volume on the other end. “I’m outside. Adios.” Amaz looks over at Grace as he puts the phone in his pocket.“She’s coming here… now?” Grace asks, a little surprised at the abruptness of the situation. “From where?”“Yeah, now. We might as well get this started, right? She’s in school. She’s smart…gonna be a lawyer and shit one day. Help keep my ass outta lockup.” He looks over at the entrance of the school as he speaks. “I told you, this is between her and you- so whatever happens here I have no control over. I ain’t telling her to do shit. She decides if you are worth the trouble,” Amaz sets her straight. “By the way, what she get outta this anyhow…your friendship?” Amaz laughs, “I don’t think that’ll fly with Maria.” He takes a drag on his cigarette shaking his head slightly.“No, I am prepared to pay her- and well. Plus, of course, my friendship,” she grins at him, her white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.“So, you gonna pay? Well, it could work- but, then again, might not,” Amaz says shrugging his shoulders not offering her any hints at all on how to woo his cousin.“So, what do you think I should offer,” she asks trying to get anything out of him.“Yo, I told you I was outta this shit,” he tells her and snuffs out his cigarette on the bench. “But, I’ll tell you this, the suspense is killing me.”

The Seven Line Competion by Opium Magazine

2008-11-12T15:35:00.001-05:00

Here was my entry. I never heard from them, guess I didn't win.

Desert Break Down
By Annemarie Bogart

He trudges feebly through the hot desert sun wishing for a drop of water, a wide-brimmed hat and some sunscreen. His mouth is so parched, he contemplates licking the old car grease from his forearms. Ahead he sees what appears to be a brick structure, though he is unable to judge how much further he must go to reach it. A strength begins to pump through his blood, it powers his body and mind to forge forward. His mind in reeling with a sudden sense of salvation as he eyes the structure ahead. It is then that he feels a sudden sharp piercing pain in his right ankle. He drops with a defeated cry, the scorpion's poison burns away all the hope that had incurred.