Taking Life Seriously

-2-

It is November 21 2011. It's night time, look, it's 4:33 if you want to be petty about it. The small city of Gort sleeps.

Gort's not exactly a city really, more like a town, well a village to be brutally honest. It's one of those places where everyone knows everyone and they're constantly in each others' business. Population 3076, Gort used to be a mining town until the mines dried up a hundred years ago, now it's become a sort of suburb to the city in the north. People live here, but only because the rent is cheap. There are those people from the city who some times move here because they want to live 'in the country' but they get bored fairly soon and move back to wherever they can get a low fat soya frapuchino and a political discussion in which they can pretend to know a whole lot about the culture and economic situation of places they have never been in. Still it's not that bad. The country side is stunning, if you like miles and miles of green fields and hills and black black skies with a thousand million burning stars. But if you're from the city you probably don't. That probably scares you, and the noises cows make while grazing in the dark must evoke in you both a real fear for the safety of the ozone layer and an irrational desire to eat a steak.

Gort does have a few amenities: a big and well stocked public library which is always busy on a Saturday morning, three churches: catholic, protestant and Lutheran, one public school with high school built in, a technical collage, four pubs, two restaurants, five takeaways (three of which are indian food), and a shopping center.

The Visitors shopping center is at the western edge of Gort, so that when it was built, the bus route had to be changed so that it would pass by it. The mall has three book stores, a couple of clothes stores, a comic book shop, a toy shop, a cinema, a food court, a pet store called Puppy Heaven, and the Savemore: 'your complete house, home and outdoor store for all your needs.'

so that's Gort, and it's late at night, and suddenly every single animal at the Puppy Heaven pet store starts howling and scratching at its cage. One parakeet bites the bars until its beak starts bleeding, it continues regardless. A litter of puppies that was kept together in the same box suffocate each other while trying to escape. The macaw lies at the bottom of its cage and refuses to move. One cat manages to open its cage and runs head first into the store's plate glass window. It dies instantly.

Taking Life Seriously

-1-

“My father walked into my mother's village at midnight on the longest night of the year, playing the black violin. He was limping in his mud encrusted boots, his white shirt flung open, red hair flying in the breeze. He walked with a limp but fast and swaying to the music.

The old Roma women knew what he was. They took their daughters and they locked them up in the caravans and they bound their ears with gossamer and said the rosary over them. But my grandmother was away that night, birthing in a nearby village, and so no one bound my mother's ears and no one blessed her, and she went to dance with the man. And she was damned.

And the beast made her drunk on song and dance, and he took my mother and he knew her in the forest like an animal, and she came, holding on to its horns in the full moon. And he spent himself inside her, and I was conceived.

In the morning my grandmother, an old woman of 70 even back then having only had my mother at age 54, was walking home through the forest, and she saw my mother lying in the bracken naked and with blood on her thighs and breasts and mouth, and she said: 'whore'.

I have the power of seduction of my father Satan, and of witchcraft and healing from my mother of the Roma. I am forever torn between their good and evil, I must always fight the beast inside. And so I do good deeds, and I travel the lands far and wide to heal the sick and restore faith to the lost. But heed me comrades, trust me not, for I do not trust myself.”

The young woman stopped talking and sat back down next to the fire. It was dark and the field was cold and wet. The five men also sitting by the fire, all dressed in battle gear and axed and sworded look at her over the flames until one man said:

'Jesus, Anita that was fucking brilliant.'

'Man, Dean, stay in character.' said the man in the wizard robes.

'Damn, sorry Gordon. Shit! fuck! I mean, I apologize great Halsolt of the Weir.'

'Never mind that now,' says the Great Halsolt of the Weir, 'the enemy are close, I can hear their war horn.'

and there was indeed the sound of a trumpet being blown in the distance.

“prepare yourselves!' said Finn the Elder, 'for the enemy are many, and they have in their service a great host of evil beasts and machinations.'

The five men and the woman all stood up and stared ahead into the green field and the oncoming battle. They were not handsome men. Halsolt of the Weir was far too skinny even in his bulky wizard robes, his great glasses covered up half of his face, and his scraggly beard covered the rest of it. Finn the Elder was, well, a large man, but not in the way a warrior should be large, and his long hair looked greasy. Anita of the Roma, the wild mage, was a tall redhead with a giant overbite, so that when she smiled, even with the anticipation of battle in her blood, she looked no more threatening than a field mouse with herpes. Sothoth the black knight's armour was filthy. He himself however, was a very short meticulous looking Indian man with a clean shaven head and a goatie of the kind only bards would dare wear without fear of ridicule. The great Gewain, the wild tribesman, had a giant mohawk and many tribal markings, one of which said 'Nancy forever' and seems to have been attempted to be crossed out. And finally, Agustus Minion standing poised in his black robes, black hair, black boots, well, he just looked drunk really.

'Put out the fire! Mind the smoke!' Said Finn the Elder.

The five straggled to put out the small camp fire as fast as they could.

'Shit,' Said the Great Gewain, 'My shoe's on fire.'

'Dammit, Gewain, put it out, they'll see us' said Anita of the Roma.

'I can't. Shit, it hurts!'

Halsolt of the Weir sighed and poured some water on the burning shoe. 'Ok now, comrades at arms, like we practiced it!'

The great Gewain examined his charred shoe. 'I got it on sale,' he said, 'they've gone back up to 200 now.'

'Shut up and get up the tree,' said Anita of the Roma.

Sothoth the Black who would have been completely invisible in the dark, if it wasn't for his perfectly white gleaming teeth, whispered: 'this is perfect, I've been waiting to get that little whoreson Chen for six moons.'

'Surely yer not still upset about that little wench from the ale house?' whispered Finn the Elder

'I saw her first!'

'The what in the what and the what what?' asked Augustus Minion.

'Shhhh!' said Finn the Elder, 'Sothoth was going to ask that Jemma that works at The Hub out, only he couldn't get himself to actually ever talk to her...'

'I was taking my time!' shrieked Sothoth

'Shhhhh, anyway she's with Chen now.'

'The bastard,' whispered Sothoth.

'The utter bastard,' whispered Finn the Elder.

'That prick,' whispered Augustus Minion.

The three disappeared into the trees.

For all their apparent ineptitude, the six were a fine and skilled team of warriors, probably the best in their class. They spent many days practicing routines under Halsolt the Weir's guidance. He was a brilliant strategist and a merciless slave driver, and they had much experience and trusted each others' capabilities and strengths completely.

The Great Halsolt had grouped them into teams of twos so that each member of the fighting team was backed up by a member who complemented their style and covered up their weakness. Aside from this, breaking the team up allowed for the warriors to attack from three different angles, disperse quickly if any one member was under a direct attack, organize independently as fighting cells, be able to mount rescue missions in case of capture, and ambush their enemies with stunning success.

Finn the Elder fought with Sothoth the Black. The Fat man was slow, but strong, and the short one was fast and stealthy. Together they made up one perfect warrior.

Anita of the Roma fought alongside The Great Gewain. She would often act as bait while he bid his time and took out the opposition one by one. And he, being her lover, when seeing her in danger, was subject to fits of protective berserker rage that always served in their favor.

And finally, the winning combination of Halsolt the Weir and Augustus Minion was the most dangerous of all. The two oldest warriors with the most tactical experience acted as the cavalry, saving their entry till later in the battle, (Augustus in particular avoided any unnecessary combat at all) and were able to go where they were most needed. They always secured the most amount of kills. In the right setting, the two were unstoppable.

After a small while, a group of four men and two women appeared from behind the hill, walking in single file, creeping. They were wearing identical silver armour with purple capes and a large M embezzled on their chests.

One of them said: 'Hold Morpheus, I can smell a fire.'

Morpheus turned around to face the man. He put a finger to his lips. He put a hand to his eye. He raised it and touched his ear. He pulled.

'Hey Magentta jerks, up here!' said The Great Gewain from the top of the tree.

'It's a trap,' screamed one of the Magentta women, 'run!'

but here was where the pack were at their best. In the deep black each one already had a dagger at the throat of one enemy and the Magentta crew were dead before they even had time to draw their swords.

Only Morpheus, the leader was left alive.

'Hey, not fair you guys,' said a voice from the floor. 'you ambushed us.'

'Shut up Chen, you're dead.' said Sothoth the Black.

Halsolt clicked the head of his staff and a dim green light appeared. Halsolt the Great was smiling. 'There's nothing in the rules about no ambushes. Maybe you should send scouts next time Morphy.'

Morpheus sighed, 'I really hate it when you call me Morphy, man, it's not cool. Look, I challenge you to single battle for my life under law 4.7 of fair play.'

'You dare challenge a level 21 wizard? Seriously?'

'Well obviously you can't use spells in single combat, it violates the anti magic treaty of the 2009 mage war and besides it's too dark to cast right now, I wouldn't be able to see what to counter spell.'

'a sword fight then.'

'to the death.'

'to the death.'

Chief cook and Dishwasher

-2-

But he missed. Well, that's not entirely true. It was like Jem dematerialized or something and the bullet went right through her and lodged itself in the opposite wall raising a thin spray of plaster as it did.
James fell to his knees. 'We're all going to die, aren't we?' he said.
'Not if I can help it,' Jem said.
'Come on Sarah, I'll take you home.' JC half cajoled, half shoved her out of there. That bastard. I can already see how that would play out: Sarah: Oh JC, I'm so scared JC: here, let me help you to bed. That bastard.
Sarah mumbled, 'bye,' and they left, and then it was just the three of us. Well, James was half catatonic so I don't know that he counted, but we stayed and no one was sure what happens now.
'So what happens now?' I asked.
James looked at me, then Jem. Jem smiled. 'Now I ask for your help,' she said.
'I don't know how but you hid this from me for years, what you are I mean, and now you want help? I don't know who you are and I don't trust you, and besides, I'm not a soldier.'
Jem nods her head, 'You're right,' she said, 'I'm sorry for lying to you, but really if I'd told you about any of this would you have believed me? Come on, you would have thought I was insane. Or that I'm having an episode or that I watch too much Syfy.' She looked me in the eyes and said, 'it's still me, babe.'
'I can help,' James said, 'I have a gun.'
'Guns don't work on us,' Jem said, 'our bodies are less dense than bullets, we're more like holograms really.'
'But how is that possible, Jem?' I said, 'I mean, you... we... you know.'
Jem reached out and took my hand, I instinctively pulled back. She frowned and said, 'yeah, I deserve that. look we're tangible. We can hold and feel but when we want to we can also be ghosts.'
James fired again. It went right through her. The three hundred year old German sand blast vase my grandmother gave me for my 30th birthday exploded.
'Can you please stop doing that?' she said.
'Sorry,' he said and put the gun on the table.
'Look, it's hard to explain because you don't have the scientific language for it.'
'Try me,' I said.
'Okay, Okay. You know how your science claims that while you can only sense and use 4 dimensions there are actually 14 dimensions to the world?'
'I didn't know, but whatever.'
'I knew that,' James said. We both looked at him for a moment.
'So anyway,' Jem said, 'we exist in several dimensions at the same time and it allows us to alter density in proportion to quanta spent.'
'What the hell is quanta?' I said.
'It's a unit of measurement of volume.'
'Ah,' I said, 'you're Timelords.'
Jem smiled, 'I guess, if you like.'
'Fezzes are not cool,' James whispered. We both looked at him.
I started picking up the beer cans on the table one by one till I found one that was half full. I drank. 'So, you are a distant relative of Doctor Who which basically means you can do anything and you just happen to spend every Sunday playing Urban Terror with us. Why?'
'You're my best friend,' she said, 'I love you.'
And I looked at her, into her bright blue eyes (tears held back by black black lashes) and she was still my Jem. Always, my Jem.
'Okay,' I said, 'what do you need? want me to get some weapons? do I need special training? what?'
She laughed and launched herself into my arms and I held her as tight and strong as I could until she shrugged. When we came apart James was standing above us so we pulled him down to us and we all hugged again.
'I don't want to die,' James said.
Then I guess we all cried a little and we hugged some more and sometime in the afternoon James went out to get some more beer and we drank it and watched the news holding hands.
And then Seb came back and Jem said she had to go and she explained how we could help her: 'An army needs to be fed,' she said, 'they need three meals a day and field rations. They need people to launder their clothes and change their sheets. They need clean barracks to rest in and people to wake them up.' So I went to the cafe and I pulled up the shift list and I started making calls.
Mina makes an awesome tofu casserole but she's really gonna to chew my ear off when I tell her we're feeding two hundred thousand people.

Chief cook and Dishwasher

-1-

JC and I were playing Urban terror on PS2 when James ran into the lounge and switched the monitor to TV.
'What the hell, man?' I said. I was just about to kill that bastard JC and I wanted to do that move where you take a dump on the corpse. Hell, he deserved it after all those times he killed me with a fucking pen. And besides Jem and Sarah were there, and I've had a thing for Sarah for ages, ever since she started cooking at the cafe with us and making those muffins that look like the cookie monster eating a cookie, and I know that move would have made her laugh like crazy.
James was pale and I'm pretty sure he was crying. 'Shut up,' he said, 'watch'.
Suddenly Jem fell on the ground and started convulsing. Sarah screamed.
JC said 'Jesus, call an ambulance.'
Jem, still writhing with pain, said, 'No ambulance.'
I crouched down next to Jem and tried to open her airway. 'Please,' she said, 'no ambulance.' I nodded.
'James, do something,' Sarah said. James was a male nurse at the community clinic. He would know what to do. But James did nothing. Only stared at the TV and cried. So I looked at the TV and, I swear, at that moment I was sure this was all a dream and my whole body just went limp because I knew I was going to wake up in a minute. I mean there was a spaceship on the news, one of those big ones like on Independence Day, and it was hovering over Big Ben. I mean, how retarded is that?  
And then Jem began to change.
Look I've known Jem pretty much my whole life. We grew up together, we went vegetarian together, we started that animal rights group together, and then we got together, and then we opened the vegan cafe together, and even after we broke up because all she ever wanted to do was travel the world she still came over every Sunday afternoon when she was in town to hang out with JC and me, and she always called when she knew I was having one of those days. I loved that girl like a sister and I swear to god I knew her inside and out.
Jem had this big tattoo on her chest, it was like a silhouette of a crow, she got it when she was sixteen and she called it Sebastian, or Seb for short. She was a big girl, not surprising because she could never make something without tasting it first. So she's convulsing right? And then suddenly she starts getting smaller, it was like she was, well, diminishing, and then I swear to god, Seb's wing moved under her skin.
I threw myself back and hit my shoulder on the lounge table, one of the beers fell over and spilled on my back. JC and Sarah were standing there hugging each other. Their eyes were huge, their mouths open. James turned away from the TV and watched Jem with a blank expression. And then Jem, my Jem, stops convulsing and this big motherfucking crow just pulls out of her skin and sits on her chest pecking its wing.
Sarah screamed.
The rest of us couldn't move. I was wet and crouched against the lounge table. James was staring at Jem tears streaming from his eyes, and JC was holding Sarah so tight that his knuckles had gone white.
Jem pulled herself up on her elbows and said: 'sorry about that guys.' the she spat out some black junk that looked like ink and she said: 'Seb, seek.' The huge black crow crowed and flew out of the window. Nobody moved. Jem smiled.
'I swear I can explain all of this, but can someone please get me a glass of water?' Jem said. She got up slowly and sat down again on the couch.
I ran my fingers through my hair, sticky with beer and said, 'sure.' Then I got up and went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.
When I came back into the lounge everyone was sitting on the couch watching the TV. I looked at Jem. She was tying up her dreads with one of her other dreads, and she was thin. Now this was a woman I have known for twenty years, since I was twelve, and now that I thought about it she only started getting big when she had Seb done. But I lived with her for almost five years. I'd slept in a bed next to her and I held her more times then I can count and that thing had never ever moved. It was impossible. But I looked at her and her breast plate was now blank and she was thin. And then the TV said: 'NASA estimates that about 1200 spaceships have now appeared in thousands of locations all over the world. Their placement appears random. They have appeared over big cities as well as deserts, oceans and even Antarctica.'
'It's not random,' Jem said, 'the 1245 spaceships make up a grid that functions like a beehive. They will stay up there for five days, to acclimatize and then their army will invade and begin to farm you for food.'
I handed Jem the glass of water. She said, 'thanks.' then, 'There are about three thousand of us here. We're rebels, kind of like our planet's animal rights activists I guess. We'll fight them. We've spent 20 years training and recruiting an army of locals to help us. We're been ready for a while.'
'What was that thing coming out of your chest?' I asked.
'Oh, that was SEB. Sub Epidermal Binder. He's like a tracking device, it's hard to explain.'
'They're going to eat us?' James said.
'Your planet is one of over a thousand empire sanctioned slaughter houses. The human race is considered primitive and our system of belief says our god is ok with eating you.' 
Sarah leaned her head into JC and hid her face in his chest. 'But we'll stop them', Jem said. 'We'll stop this.'
'I want to go home now,' Sarah said.
JC stroked her hair and said, 'sure babe, I'll take you.'
That bastard, he knew I was into her. That bastard.
Suddenly James ran out of the room. JC was just helping Sarah up when James came back in with a gun. He pointed it a Jem. 'You're an alien,' he said.
Sarah screamed. Man, she was beginning to get on my nerves with all this maiden in distress bullshit. JC stepped in front of her which pissed me off even more because he was just pandering to her fantasies.  
'Jesus, James where did you get a gun?' I said.
'Yes,' Jem said, 'but I'm on your side.'
James fired.

Having a Coke With You

Last night I lie in my bed and watch a ton of depressing movies about love. You know those soppy teenage love-you-forever-and-ever films that never show you the gist of what it is to really care about another person, only that they would do anything for you even after they've screwed up real bad. Only the falling in love part and never what comes after.
That myth of love that we're sold, it's so hard to believe that it exists anymore, not for anyone over the age of 16. Still I read that Frank Ohara poem, you know, and I remembered what it was like to hold his hand that night it rained and we jumped into the fountain, and that time he saved my life, and when he went down on me. And suddenly I felt so goddam alone, even though the two dogs were lying next to me in the bed infecting me with fleas and mange and all manner of unspeakable horrors. I had achieved inner pieces.
To look at me you'd never guess I miss the clammy way his hands feel when I held them, the smell of sweat and motor oil and the way his crusty stubble scratched the back of my neck. And I don't. I miss the tangible memory of it. I miss deluding myself that the world is perfect. Because for a little while it was.
I don't care what you think, we did change the world. Thunder roared louder and lightning struck twice, three times in the same place. 
But that was before rent and bills, before work and routine and before sameness made words so so blunt that it became impossible to cut into the silence that was weaving itself around us until we were completely engulfed in its cocoon.
That was years ago. Lifetimes ago. But I read that Frank Ohara poem and I go out and buy an RC cola.
Fucking product placements.