Category Archives: 05

September 17, 2018 · 6:52 am

gormanbozia

“You admit you are the girl that goes by California.”

“Cal, yeah. That’s me.”

“You have an unregistered navel. You declared All Orange back in 1914, before such things even existed. Do you admit you are also a time traveler?”

“I can admit that. I am allowed. Now… give me something hard.”

Natali Woodhull did not respond immediately. Then: “I’ve lived here since the lemony days. I know a thing about citrus.”

“Good for you Natali. Can I let Rocky in now? We must practice for the big ball 2 weeks from Friday. End of story. Completio.”

Natali paused again. “Not quite yet,” she decided. “As California, you are created by a man named Wilson, true?”

“I *am* Wilson. I am the 28th president of the United States of America born in Staunton, Indiana.” She smiled.

“But… you are a woman,” points out Natali.

“Then: Wilsonia. The feminine form of Wilson. I tipped the scales in favor of me. I am both feminine and masculine. General Grant knows.”

They sat there for a while. They could hear Rocky rapping on the door of the coffee shop, saying stuff like, “come on,” and, “let me in already.” Finally he seemed to go away. Tronesisia nodded her head a little with this. “It’s going to be difficult for him to come back. He’ll get lost in the city lights, he will.”

“I’m sorry. But this is important. There’s a wall in this town of course. In olden days it was called the Green Monster, not because of its color but because it ate green — trees to be specific.”

“General Grant allows glimpse into Navelencia at Orange Cove,” says Tronesisia cryptically, and then reaches down to lift her metal shirt a bit, exposing the orange in question. “Green Monster. It has a hole in the center.” She circles the navel with a silver index finger, then lowers the shirt back and beams blue eyes at Natali. “I heard you used a recording of our signature song for a dance last week.”

“I did,” admitted Natali, hoping Tronesisia wasn’t mad about the borrowing (what was *that* about?). “But just for a particular customer. On a whim, if you will. I got it from Chris.”

“Did it have a certain effect?” Tronesisia’s pace was crisp and precise.

Natali didn’t know. She recalls she was really into it. Trance dance. “I’m not sure,” she offered. “Can you explain?”

Tronesisia got up out of her chair and danced the same exact dance, right there on the spot.  Natali Woodhull’s mouth remained agape at the beginning. How? she thought. How?

And then she began to remember.

There was a ship.

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September 16, 2018 · 10:11 am

tourist season

“Jeeeez. Could I have said, hmm, *3:30*?” gurgles a drunk Briney, struggling to recall the actual time he assigned for a rendezvous with Axis and Gwin. “Nah, I’m sure it was (*burb*) 4:30. Time for another drinkie poo or two, then. Bel-ievve I’ll try that Mole Juice Sur- (*burb*) Sur-prise next, hehehe.”

“Fish (*slurp*). So maa-ny fish at this damned lake.”

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September 16, 2018 · 8:00 am

statues

Jill MacGill/Gwin spouts the history of the place she and Axis wait at for the ambassador.

“‘The water at the upper dam of Fish Lake, also known as Lake Three’  — that’s because of its shape and not because it is the third part of some series,” she adds as an aside, then continues. “Let’s see — ‘… falls vertically in contrast to the gentler step cascade of the lower dam.'” She turns to Axis, who was formerly the boy known as Tin Tin. There was no need to keep up that disguise any longer, since the marriage was off. To both Ruby *and* her effective doppleganger Gwin here. “That’s because of the salmon. The salmon need some way to get to the lake to spawn, where they themselves were spawn.”

“I know how it works, Gwin. But thank you for the passage. I’m going to go over and look behind said waterfall now. See what has changed since my last visit as that snotty nosed boy Tin Tin.”

“Disgusting,” agreed Gwin, shaking her head. “Try to remedy that the next time you incarnate as a hormone raging teenager.”

“I’ll try.” Axis gets up off the curving bench. “I’m going over there now. You wait here for Briney if you don’t mind. He said to meet him in the northeast corner of the plaza and we don’t want to miss him. Again.”

“But I want to see *too.*”

Axis looked around, gauging distances and space. “All right. But leave your red book on the bench — open — so he knows we’re here. In case he misses us standing over there. You know how he is.”

“But…”

“No one will steal it,” assures the red crossed man, guessing what Gwin was thinking. “It’s just a old book *prop* and not an old and rare book itself.”

“Oh yeah. Forgot.”

“The camera’s right over there. Remember?”

“Yeah I know. Hi Bert!” She waves to the cameraman, who hesitantly waves back.

“We should get up. The script demands we get up.” But Jill MacGill/Gwin was still thinking it’s a continuity error as she lays down the supposedly rare tome. Plus it could damage the spine keeping it open like that.

—–

“We’ve seen this before, Pitch. That tome is ‘Winesap’.”

“I suppose it has to be, Bill.”

—–

“Way down there, aren’t they?”

“Completely vertical, like I said.”

“And last time I checked — for the purposes of this shoot earlier today, you understand — we have yet another avatar that winks on and off while switching colors between green — cypress colored green, or the darker variety anyway — and silver.”

“Like Madame Silver,” Jill MacGill/Gwin tacks on, thinking they need to get back on script.

“The name is Emerald this time.” Axis checks the location behind the waterfall remotely. “But now she’s not there.”

“Could be other clues,” suggests Gwin. “Don’t give up so easily.”

So Axis scouts again and perhaps sees something else.

“He’s checking the water in Glinda. He’s in Glin, but holds the glass in Glinda, then scrutinizes it. The he wipes it down in Glin and starts again. Over and over it goes. He understands it is different over there. He’s afraid to step beyond the boundary, else…”

“Phantom,” completes Gwin.

“He’s trying to figure out why. Scientist?”

—–

“No, they’re *both* over the line. Both in Glinda. A man and a woman. Adam and Eve, then?”

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September 15, 2018 · 8:48 am

art of the deal

“How do you like my painting, Mr. Dune. I’m thinking of calling it ‘Life on an Orange.'”

Pathetic, Herbert Dune thinks to himself. “Exquisite,” he says aloud. “Listen, Madame Silver. I see that you’re a very busy and productive young woman.”

Madame Silver giggles outlandishly. “Oooo, young *man*. You flatter me!”

“Thank you. I won’t waste any more of your precious time. I’m here for the complaint about one of our dollhouses. You said a characters within is… stuck?”

Madame Silver talks while continuing to paint. “Yes, um, but why don’t we discuss it over tea. Do you like tea? Hot tea I mean. Cold tea is for barbarians. I hope you’re not a cold tea lover. For the sake of our continued business transactions.”

“You are one of our most loyal customers, Madame Silver. I will be glad to have tea with you if you can take time from your busy schedule.” I *hate* tea, Herbert Dune grumbles to himself again. Cold *or* hot. But I’ll swallow it for the deal.

—–

“Well this is simply *delightful*. I’m glad you like the tea.”

“It is so so delicious, Madame Silver. I haven’t had tea like that in a long time. Perhaps back before I joined the company.”

“How many years have you been there now? Five, six? I’m glad you got your promotion. That way you finally get to meet *me*.”

“I am glad to be in your humble service, Madame Silver. I’ve heard so many good things about you.” He pauses significantly, hoping the old codger will *finally* get to the dollhouse and needed repairs. Of course he’s going to try to sell her a brand new dollhouse… at a significant discount of course. But pushing upgrades instead of expensive repair is standard practice in the business. In any business, really. Those based on pure capitalism and money and greed. And certainly like Doll Pedlars, Inc.

She flattens out her skirt and stands up. “*Well*. I suppose we should get to that dollhouse, eh? Back up the stairs we go!”

—–

“Yes, I think I see the problem, Madame Silver. But it’s a bad one. We’ll have to take the whole dollhouse back to the office for repairs. *Or*… we could sell you an upgrade for a cut rate price. Maybe save you money in the end. Your choice of course. But this looks like a 02350 malfunction of the circuit board. I’d highly recommend the upgrade. I’ll deliver it to you in person, make sure everything works perfectly before leaving.”

“Oooo. Look at that fluffy feather bed up there on the next level, Mr. Dune,” Madame Silver deviates. “I’m sooo sleepy. I could use a nap. Could you also use a nap? We could sleep on opposite sides. Unless…”

Oh. She’s *that* type of old codger, thought Herbert Dune. A cougar codger. Chris withheld that valuable piece of information about the work.

He pauses to consider. He decides to be frank. “Will it help seal the deal?”

“It *might*” She giggles in that grating way again. Herbert Dune makes a note to not say things that might induce it again.

“Alright. But I have to be back at the office by 8.”

“Make it 9.” She giggles once more.

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September 15, 2018 · 7:59 am

winner

“I don’t like that scene, Rabbit 02.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to change the game.”

“Do what you have to do, Rabbit 01.”

“Orange?”

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September 15, 2018 · 7:07 am

nightmare

“Man I can’t stop playing this *game*.”

—–

“All right Jill MacGill. Where’s the sacred orange? Is it behind trailer number 01, 02, or 03? Choose or lose.”

“Wait. Let me take a picture of that pathetic expression.”

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September 14, 2018 · 7:16 am

reunion 03

“So is this her?” Ruby asked without a hint of jealousy. The Green (Eyed) Monster.

“Yes. Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes.” I wish I were a 100th that beautiful, Ruby then thinks. Eraserhead Man was thinking at the same time: But not as beautiful as you are right now, Young Ruby. EM is certainly smitten (!).

“This is Smithy’s House,” EM then declares. “Not finished. We also don’t know who’s going to play Smithy. Maybe the man in the bright green coat who came on the set earlier. But maybe not.”

“Where are all the others, Pencil? (for that was what Ruby always called EM since their days back on New Island — Pencil)

EM points to his eraser topped noggin with a stubby arm. “In here.” He waits an appropriate beat. “Nah, just kidding. They’re in the southeast corner of Fishers Island. Doing my bidding.”

“Gwin included?” Ruby tried to word her thoughts properly. “She… returned to the set?”

“Yes. Sorry you can’t play the part, Ruby. But we have something special cooked up for you. Did I ever tell you I have a doppleganger too? Some call him Penn Mann. Some just penhead, because he’s quite irksome. But lately he’s been sporting a pink mohawk and disguising himself as a she. Under this guise (he’s known as) Chuck Cheese. Sometimes Heidi, which I suppose indicates his ability to hide well. But we’ve struck a deal. Man to man-as-woman. I get the southeast corner of Fishers Island, he gets Wallytown of Fishers Island.”

Ruby pondered on this new information. “Then who gets Fisher?”

“Ahh, so logical, so precise you are. Yes, our Orange Boy. Orange itself. That is the conundrum. To answer that we must first go back to when Herbert Dune was just a boy on the threshold of adolescence. Or just beyond, I guess. Rounding a corner. Seeing something earlier on that day that he didn’t understand. A flesh and blood woman turned into a doll. Heidi — or whatever she or he’s called — insisted that he — or she — direct the shoot.”

—–

“Do you have the orange makeup on all over the appropriate spot, Chloe?”

“Yeees.” Chloe Price was being paid quite handsomely for this scene, but still her voice had an edge. She was nervous. She never had done anything close to a nude scene for a film, never exposed her midriff for anything. Oh, there was that pool scene in “Life is Strange”. But that was all innocent fun and games. This is different. She could back out… but she was already inside.

“Alright. Young Herbert Dune — George — you come around the corner just there and then spot Chloe. You slink back around the corner. Chloe doesn’t see you. The case is opaque, not transparent. Here… let me set the mood better.”

—–

“So the case is darkened. All except that circular opening. And then, Young Herbert can’t help himself, takes another look. The legend of All Orange is born.”

—–

“I’m giving you back your 50,000 lindens, EM. I couldn’t do it. Director Heidi took my place. She was a better height for it anyway.” Chloe Price huffed. “You don’t know *what* I went through in ‘Life is Strange’. Creepy stuff. I couldn’t do it,” she reinforced.

EM pats her hand. He’s finally breaking through that tough exterior. “There there, friend. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here on *my* set.”

That day, Chloe may have fallen a little bit for Eraserhead Man as well.

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September 14, 2018 · 6:59 am

reunion 02

Jeez I haven’t felt this good since Mary left, Eraserhead Man thinks by Ruby’s side. I could *marry* this girl. Yes: marry.

So he remembers the disappearance of his wife now too.

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September 14, 2018 · 5:14 am

reunion

Young Ruby had somehow made it all the way to EM’s Urbane Blue set in the heart of Meat City without compromising her integrity.

But all she found inside was a floating, slightly glowing Eraserhead Man, deep deep deep within. No Herbert Dune, no Jill MacGill/Gwin or Chloe Price or Benny and Jer Horne or Franklin Bowers and his former wife Jenny — lets go with Patsy — or Rabbit 03 or the Blue Yip Yip. Only the director of it all.

He was the dreamer dreaming the dream all along. The blue structure acting as a coffee shop within was a portal indeed.

With no role found to be played — Gwin’s vacant part was a red herring — Ruby had no choice but to return to her empire. What a long journey in vain!

No Timmy when she returns (dead), no Tin Tin (married, or so she thought). Just her and Madame Silver, battling out the final days. Should she wake the dreamer? Maybe that would be a better solution, she realized. But *gradually*.

She kept tap tap tapping at his wooden yellow shoulder, each tap a little stronger. But even after a hundred of these, we would still consider the gesture quite light of touch. Ruby was subtle like that. Quality over quantity indeed for this one.

The dreamer awoke like a fresh spring morning; turned to faced his rouser. “Ahh, Young Ruby,” he cooed. “A sight for sore ears.” Now maybe he can toss aside those hearing aids for good.

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September 13, 2018 · 6:45 am

6 times

2:55:

“No, there’s no plans for a prison in these schematics, Mr. Man.”

“EM! Call me EM! Everybody does!”

“Um, EM.”

“How ’bout Smithy’s place?! Is it finished?!”

Rob Reeder and Ted Totter just stared at each other, unable to decipher what Eraserhead Man was on about now.

“Um… Smithy?”

“Yeah. And Ghostwood! Ghostwood Estates Mental Hospital! Audrey’s there!”

Rob Reeder and Ted Totter exchanged looks. “Do you want us… to *add* these things, Mr. Man… EM?”

EM paused dramatically, then: “YES!”

—–

“Where *is* he?” groused Chloe Price, sitting in the blue chair . “Where’s our famous director?”

“He said 3 o’clock,” returned Jill MacGill from the red one. “Be patient.”

Chloe checked her watch, then nodded. “All right, all right.”

“Only 3:05 now.”

“O-*kay*.”

—–

3:15:

“I’m tired of looking at this poster and water fountain. I’m going to roam about the place. Freely.”

“NO,” commanded Jill. “EM said to *stay put* this time. He’ll be here shortly. Sometimes he goes on… tangents. As you well know. He said 3 so it will probably be 3:30. Just give him time. Don’t leave me in this spooky place *alone*.”

“Spooky?” questioned Chloe to Jill.

“I meant just: place. I suppose it’s not that spooky.” But Jill was shaking within. She’d seen a ghost here and another one could come.

—–

—–

3:35:

Jill relented out of boredom and strategy. “All right, tell me about this game you found near the Horne Inn. The one EM left you.”

Suddenly alert, Chloe’s head bounced up off her raised knee. “I’ll do better than that.”

—–

3:45:

“Wrong building!”

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