It could have worked between Alysha — Redd — and myself, Jeffrey thinks afterwards, nursing his remorse with a gin and tonic from the bar atop the filthy yacht.
Alysha in the clean one had moved on too. Inspired by the art in the neighboring galley over in Terriergate, she’s decided to get a tattoo, a tree one, on the back. Red green blue yellow, she recites in her head, reviewing the thing. No orange, no purple. Let’s make this shit happen.
when the levy breaks
“When did you get the new tattoo?” he asked over to me from his own blanket, lotion finished for now.
“Oh I don’t know,” I nonchalantly replied. “About 15 minutes ago I guess.” I was applying blog time here, because I’d only recently decided to expose the thing. TILE Manifesto. I knew where this was heading… kind of.
I felt Ted’s eyes look across me toward the elephant ride on the mainland beach. Corsica is a looong continent, I heard him say in his head, thanks to Fern’s temporary spell. He also said he’d give it a 10. She was pleased. No need to redo the legs any more. But to the information I *really* need.
“Ted,” I said. “Ted Bear.”
“Yes?” He rolled back and stared into the blue and white umbrella but he was still smiling. Always the smile now. He was dreaming happy things. Like more lotion.
“I know you’ve told me about Jenny and how she freed up Baker Bloch so he could go to that pyramid in de skies. Jenny is… prudish.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t like what I’m doing on this islet. She wanted Baker away from that.”
But to the thoughts. What is he really thinking? She scans but no luck. He was back on her. Pondering the back. The orange and violet would have to wait, zebra’s eyes X-ed out for now. Probably all for the best, she thinks, and starts to apply again. Next post!
“I’m going to relieve you of your duties here, Valerie. We actually bought the purple car in a different place. Not Bluefield.”
“Mount Airy — yes, I’ve heard.”
Close! thinks Jeffrey Phillips as Baker Bloch, surprised rumor has traveled so far. But Iowa instead of North Carolina. And it’s Air. Ayr. But he let the mistake stand and didn’t correct.
“Last day will be the end of next month. You’ll begin collecting your retirement pension come March 1. We thank you for your service to the state!” North Carolina again, but we’ll stick with Iowa.
“Schweeeet,” she exclaimed, and crouched down on the floor, a familiar and comforting gesture. She couldn’t help it — her eyes were trained too well. She kept looking for that car to appear. Maybe it will, she thought. The owner of this here blog isn’t correct on all things. Maybe the purple car will come out *here*. It’s a blue rose case, after all. And this is Baker Bloch as Jeffrey Phillips. Backwards but obvious.
The owner of the land has it up for sale at a reasonable price. This portal in the very epicenter of Maebaleia could vanish any day now, any moment. I’m going to say goodbye to it now. Mad Valerie can be reassigned for that final month if needed.
Farewell 2701 Bland Rd. I place a blue rose in your lawn.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” hidden Fern said down below, switching South with North.
Monroe alone and heavy on the Twin Peaks
Black children, a brother and sister perhaps, emerge from a Halloween Tree beside 4th of Juli flags to play in the sun alongside a backyard fence…
… while Robert’s son, a white kid with slack-jawed mouth, sits on the front porch alone, bemoaning a lack of friends.
Past the Princess, Ray takes over Monroe as far as the eye can see, whitewashing a red car past.
A hidden letter in a kind of burning bush reveals another clue. A white S. The Son? The *Sun*?
Giant for a Day 01
“Thanks for meeting with me again, Redd.”
Redd, she mused privately. I like that name. Better than Alysha. For now, for this scene anyway, with this actor/person. She decided to let him talk again instead of replying. It was in the script: blue.
“I… have a problem.”
“I gave away my car to a man I’m not sure I can fully trust. Guy named Monroe Ray. Or maybe it’s Manray Roe. Anyway…”
“Anyway,” she quickly added, uncomfortable with the ad lib.
“… I’ve decided to get it back. You see, Manray, I mean…”
“Monray, I mean, Monroe.” Now *I’m* doing it, she thought. Eraserhead Man might not be so pleased with *this* ad lib. He was with some, and not as much with others. 1/2 and 1/2. Yet another one in a long line of 1/2’s and 1/2’s. I’m so tired, she continued pondering. Didn’t get enough sleep last night. The tattoo I got yesterday still smarts. I’m not sure it was a smart thing to do now (!). She instinctively reaches her left arm around and scratches it. Thomas said it would take a couple of days to heal up properly, maybe a couple of weeks. She could tell he wanted to add “a couple of months,” to extend the sentence even more but he didn’t. So it could be that long, ugh. But very very difficult to reverse now. She was stuck with it, most likely — in all likelihood.
“Monroe, right. Fern said it was ultra important and that the portal should *not* be closed right now, the one that goes to Bluefield, West Virginia, US of A. A purple car *will* come through, she stressed in her wise or at least brilliant way.” Then he turned away from his fishing and looked at Redd, aka Alysha. “But *you’re* Fern.”
“Kind of,” she explained. “Kinda not.” 1/2 and 1/2 once more, ugh. They both looked toward the cameras for direction.
(to be continued)
“I know this is only our second date,” Jeffrie Phillips began again. Eraserhead Man had decided to move the location of the shoot to nearby Antares Isles, just northwest of Fio Fum. The Giant For A Day post title can wait. Or can it? “But I’m a marrying type, I’ll warn ya. I want to marry you. I think, I *know*… I love you.” He turned toward her, Redd For A Day. She of course wasn’t expecting this. Blue script; in the white one she would have slapped him, knowing what he did on that filthy yacht just yesterday while she was with Thomas getting her tattoo. He promised to stick to the clean one from now on. And that’s where they got married. Just back there, in the background. And then they lived in the submarine home a little closer, on the largest and most northern of the 3 or 4 isles in the chain, right near the yacht, pointing toward it like a time bomb. Julius was born a little while later — well I guess it would have to be at least 9 months later. Jeffrey named him while she was busy reading her current furniture and fashion magazine on the far isle again, just where they are now, in the present. A black child for a white couple but that was just part of the magic.
They set a date. March 1, 2022. The day the music died.
Ironic that while perusing black and white photos in that fashion and furniture magazine during Julius’ illicit naming event back there she was thinking about Newt. And Annaberg — why did she ever leave that Sunklands burg in the first place?
While Lena Horned sang the entirety of her new album “Creepy Alley” inside for an exclusive audience…
… manager Zach Black danced on the deck with the less affluent people, although almost all of them had gone home by now.
7 o’clock in the morning. And he and Lena had to do the same thing tomorrow night, starting at 8. PM, that is. Mr. Low’s orders — he’s always one to give commands and not receive them. But the pay was grand, and they needed it on their whirlwind tour of the Nautilus continent, back on since the Maebaleia army declared war on its own navy in another surfacing of the ever-present North-South tension down there. They decided to amscray off the continent to protect their neutrality. Besides, Zach was an old air force guy, and, like many of his kind, didn’t know where he fit in with the conflict. “We’ll take the army boat out and the navy boat back in, just to placate both,” he said to Lena as they were pulling out of Cassandra Bay in the dead of day hidden behind a bale of hay. It was the only way (he reckoned).
“How was the party up at the yacht tonight?” asked wife Alysha to Jeffrey Phillips as he *finally* reverted and returned. “Good, I’m assuming. It’s 8 o’clock. *8* *o’clock*. I get up and you go to bed. Typical these days.” Julius was now 3 years old and playing in the palm shaded sand outside the beached submarine they live in. His sister Julia was nearly one herself. Tomorrow was the 4th anniversary of their marriage and hopefully it would get off to a better start than this one. They would be heading back to the same yacht, sans Mr. Low. Because he had his own tight itinerary to hold to. He was heading inland with his new wife of 3 years, following the high central beige ridge of Lower Austra and then the low green western coastline of Upper Austra. Bound for the north in a plane with military insignia both right and left. Just in case.
(to be continued)
whitewashed (no sun (Princess))
Alysha had that dream where she was stuck on the moon. Back to reality, yikes!
“Sure you don’t want a shot at riding the bull, sweety?” asked handsome Field who had ditched his hat. “10 seconds and we’re in.” This was an audition, she understood. A role in an important important film yet to be made, yet to be thought of, even. ‘All hail the Wild White Whale,’ she recalled, and now kind of knew more about what it meant. This was no bull.
Black cat Gar looked on, understanding the same.
“Is this thing even working? Testing, testing…”
Good thing she’s a multi-instrumentalist.
She was still sleeping when the sun rose…
… the book of dreams opened up behind her.
What would it have in store for the great Horned being today?
Something is missing here, investigating Jeffrey Phillips speculates later. Better get back to Iowa, but maybe that’s it. The missing piece — letter — is in Iowa.
Just a statement of fact.
Find me, she thought, hiding behind one of those many white trees.
“You can’t cage me up. I am like fireflies in the center of night, multitudinous yet coordinated, synchronized. Blink blink off. Blink off off. And so on.”
“Don’t say it. You know who I am.”
“How about Flytrap (then)?” The blue-green gave it away.
She walked backwards into the hole. All she knew tonight was that she had to find Monroe Ray and this was the place to do it.
She made sure her eyes were wide open as the oily thing took her in. (bleh!)
Then out (helb!) and backwards toward the Venus Flytrap statue — can’t look at it directly or else, she knew.
Then: white horse, good. She was there. And she didn’t have to look at its ass coming in; also good.
Tripping over a border between more dark and less dark, she tumbled backwards forwards right into his head. It was the only way to make things work, she realized afterwards — and also before. The Man known as Ray…
… was dead.
“I’ve been waiting on you,” he said mechanically, like a bull.
Siamese twins Archie and Ed Bunker with surrogate mom Rose Wells, telescoped to the past in this here photo and known colloquially as Eyela, about 14 years old at the time of the snapping. She made sure the picture was public domain and available for later decoding. Smart girl!
The condition is now known as Winona Ryder Eye, after the famous actress whose 3rd was unlocked, like a door, during the filming of “Edward Scissorhands” on location in Lutz, Florida when actor Johnny Depp accidentally opened it up with his scissorhands prop while pretending to cut her hair with them. She was rushed to the hospital but the forehead wound had already healed, advantage gained. Winona developed second sight, and was able to see the Upside Down, which gave her a leg up in winning key roles down the road of her then fledgling career.
Could be that the one eyed woman above is named Ylem, or that’s the technical (slang?) term for her medical condition of singular ocularity. I’ll have to ask Rose more about it when I get the chance.
eye for an eye
Visit to the unusual “eye rock” and subsequent discussions. Lester Jackson, owner of the cornfield, wanted to name it *I* owa and town councilman Alex Bald countered with Hawk*eye*. They would fight it out later that day over a good ol’ game of Iowa chesskers, 1/2 chess and 1/2 checkers where black always moves first. Make that Hawkeye chesskers, because Alex won. Plans to move the Hawkeye Rock to his town’s square were in the works before they could say night night to each other. The next morning neighboring Taylor County and its superior moving company based in Siam was rung up. “Ringgold County here,” they started, then cut to the chase. “We need a crane.” “It’ll cost you,” came the not-so-neighborly reply, terms which later telescoped back into the equally unusual 14 year old girl and her twins.
And that’s how Rose ended up in Our Second Lyfe on the Omega continent in the Tesseract House with the tailors, who are actually Taylors.
“Andy! Bee!” she joked through the door she couldn’t remember was oriented east or west on this particular day. “Come quick; he’s done!” And so they entered the bedroom for the first time in who knows how long, maybe Tuesday.
“Why do you have him tied up?” asked innocent Tealy, stuck on his one color. The more worldly, multi-hued Tillie explained it to him later.
“Oh, *that* kind of creation.”
Rose Wells’ first Tesseract House, in Diagonal but also Lineville according to other sources. Combined: Diagonal Line(ville). Fitting. Probably called Eyela at the time but perhaps Leela. This started the whole Nautilus continent-US of A hyperlink back in the mid to late 1800s. Marvelous. Fantastic.
no “hi mister” for him
“Damn *plane*,” Man About Time speaks up toward it in a more unusual outburst for him. For, as we know, he’s quite mild most of the time, almost all of the time as he goes about it in his way. But this was different. The plane almost brushed the top of the only living tree of the newly placed temple (!). Lowest no more it was in Collagesity this temple. Highest instead, and on a high point for several sims around. Much to be studied here, and MAT is about to go on a jag.
The plane and its most important or at least most famous occupant, indeed a *rump*, as in *ass*, continues north over the high beige ridge of Lower Austra, soon to encounter the low green western coastline of Upper Austra on the second leg of its journey. Destination: could be Rooster’s Peninsula in the far northern part of Nautilus. After all, we’ve already associated this occupant with Rooster way back in novel 2.
Might be another trace. So many now…
Armed with more knowledge of a startling nature, really, I drove past the house with the white Robert’s son sitting sadly on the porch still, mouth agape, and with a lack of friends. I think back to how I got here, got to this point in time. Three letters floated before me, spinning actually, like around a common axis or center. R… B… T. All found under the fingernails of victims.
Leland Palmer burst through the front door of the Sheriff’s office, holding the same central or axial picture in front of him — partially obscuring his face — and saying he *knew* this man, who was a neighbor of his grandfather when he was growing up and who use to flick matches at him.
He believed his named was Robertson. Investigating Agent Cooper then exclaims to Twin Peaks sheriff Harry Truman standing with him before the blackboard: “Robert. Robertson. That’s what the letters are spelling. Hawk, get up to Pearl Lakes, find out who was in that other house.” But it was all a dead end, a misdirection possibly manufactured by BOB, who is the same as Robert’s son, also according to Cooper. The Son is the Sun. And that’s where we have to head next as front turns to back, ow ow ow. Painful past.
Halloween Tree. Lashings. You reach around to feel but realize your arm is bent back.
(to be continued)
Central square: ready to *rock*.