Lora is shy when it comes to certain things. Not that you would believe it if you knew her. She's a natural born leader and when it comes to her job she isn't afraid to speak her mind. But we were together for four years before I heard her use the word 'pussy.'
She rarely initiates sex, and I can't remember one single time where she initiated it with Emily. Although when Emily or I, or both, come on to Lora she jumps in with GUSTO.
She's very reserved, very calm and sure about herself outwardly, and carries herself to a certain standard because she feels that her HIGH place in the community dictates that she be 'above' certain things.
A lot of people here, especially the younger girls, look up to her.
She's witty, charming, intelligent, fun to be with, always has something to add to the conversation. She has gorgeous black hair and dark brown eyes and the face of an angel.
In seven years I can count the times she has broken down on one hand. She's very strong, you see.
Last Wednesday afternoon just before the Pasta Night crowd started to gather, when she was sitting in the dining area by herself going over the next week's menu items, a group of us including me, Elder Malcolm and his wife Vivian, Annalara and her brother Raymond, Emily, my step-dad, and both my sisters, approached her with the bronze plaque we had made for Brier Rose Court.
It read simply...
The Riley House
Founded by Lorabelle Tempest Riley
September 21, 2008
Lora broke down. She covered her mouth with both hands and couldn't stop crying. It got so bad that me and Emily had to take her to the bathroom to compose herself and stayed in there for fifteen minutes.
She still has the plaque on her side of the bed. It's supposed to go outside next to the front door, and Lora says it will eventually, but for now she just wants to stare at it.
After she had composed herself and gave heartfelt thanks to everyone that was there, and EVERYONE that came into the community center for the next two days, she gave me a BIG hug and whispered in my ear, "We should seduce Beth."
"Tell them I don't have any enemies." ~Adrian Veidt
Brier Rose Court
The dark brown carpet is new and thick and my feet sink into it and it feels like walking on marshmallows. No shoes allowed in the master bedroom.
The two big windows overlooking what will become Blackchapel Place are 110 inches long and 60 inches wide each. The drapes are thick and match the carpet and are quiet capable of keeping every single inch of that dreaded sunlight out.
The walls are beige, (Actually the paint color has some fancy name to do with moco-something but it's really just beige.) and the woodwork is all natural with a dark varnish cover.
With the BIG BED, a dresser, two 'chests of drawers,' a desk set, Lora's chess area and the stereo system, the room is about 70% full. We still have room for decor.
"It's gonna be dark in here," Lora said that day we painted it.
I just smiled. "We can have lots of lamps." (We do.)
There are three doors. One that leads to Sara's Darkness. One that leads to the bathroom, and another that leads out into the family room.
The family room is partially furnished. It has your standard couch, arm chair, loveseat with endtables, along with a coffee station and mini fridge, the flatscreen and several bookcases. The family room is our official 'morning central' since we can grab coffee and a quick breakfast right outside where all five of us sleep.
We haven't really used the downstairs much since moving in. We ate in the breakfast nook for Sunday brunch, but don't really use the kitchen a whole lot because we usually eat at the community center. Although we will DEFINITELY be using it this weekend because we're having a HUGE party to thank everyone that helped build the house.
With the community apartments being just a stone throw away, we've actually had a few visits from some of the people that live there. My arch nemesis, Erika St Croix, stopped by with her brother Victor and stayed for awhile. It was kind of nice, too. :) (But since they didn't help build the house they aren't invited to the party, nah, nah!)
Jesca's sister, Wendy, stopped by one night and hung with us. Plus, I've watched David and his cousin Beth Raye, (The girl in the strappy sandles.) come and go from the Raye House.
Beth is SO fuckin' hot!
I can see their house from Sara's Darkness on the third floor. If I walk down, (Three DAMN flights!) the stairs to my scooter garage I can go out the exit and see their backyard pretty well.
The red brick path leads from my scooter garage back to Blackchapel Place then straight back to the storage shed. Behind that is a small patch of woods. On the other side of the woods is the pumpkin patch. (Which will now be even CLOSER for me to go out into on Halloween Night to wait for the Great Pumpkin!)
If I walk through the pumpkin patch I'll eventually reach the street that leads to the community store about a city block distance. Right around the corner from there is the community center. So we're all still close enough to our jobs that we can walk in the dead of winter and not freeze.
The house is starting to feel like home already.
***This journal was written over a period of a few months. Beginning in early July till mid-September.***
"This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper." ~T.S.Elliot
Charlie Brewster Did The Right Thing
Twilight's shadow brings morning's fog. There are people starving STILL in the world because old people won't pass the salt. I can't say enough about how much I love Lora. I can't say enough about how much I love Lora. I can't say enough about how much I love Lora.
Thursday night is Taco Night at the community center. Since Lora took charge she has designated each night an activity night. Monday being "Pizza and a Movie," Tuesday is "Rec Night" with a choice of five different menu items, people come and play cards or darts or just sit around and talk. Wednesday is "Pasta and Circle Meetings,"Thursday we have tacos and open mic on the stage for plays, people who want to sing or read poetry or just vent their feelings. Friday and Saturday are usually when we open the bar and have a buffet of fried chicken and catfish, and Sunday is leftovers and the weekly gathering. I'm starting this journal on a Thursday, for no particular reason. It's 4:00am.
Monday we watched Fright Night part's one and two. When I was little I would always cheer for Jerry Dandridge, hoping he would snap Charlie's neck and keep on killing beautiful prostitutes. (Although I always wanted Peter Vincent to escape because he was just so damn cool.) Watching it this time, (Yeah, I actually got to sit down and watch instead of working.) I kinda started liking Charlie Brewster and cheered with everybody else when he jerked the curtain open.
Then we watched part two and I hoped he would die again.
Life has been EXHAUSTING as of late. The average day starts with we three getting up around 11:am and all making it to our respective jobs by noon. Work for myself and Emily usually ends around 6:pm, (Although "work" is a word I use LOOSELY for what Emily has been doing lately whatwith her Private Eye and Fortune Telling thing which consist of her sitting in her office above the community store watching the Maltise Falcon over and over and reading detective stories.)
Emily and I leave the community store around 6-7:pm and head over to the community center to help Lora out with the dinner crowd. By 8:pm we three are out the door and heading over to the future home of Brier Rose Court, where we stay till around 4:am doing things to get the house built.
The Lesbo Brigade, our friends from outside the community consisting of Christy, Tammy, Deanna, Kyle, Lindsey and Jimmy Mann, have been doing volunteer work on our new house. Jimmy Mann, surprisingly, is experienced in cement work and has already laid out our main drive, Brier Rose Drive, and mapped out the red brick pathway I want for our garden out back.
The girls, Christy, Tammy and Deanna, hang out with Lora, (As far up her ass as they can get.) doing the heavy stuff whilst Kyle and Lindsey, married couple, work with Emily and myself on the finer and more lightweight details that don't consist of grunting and sweating.
We have a few other young twenty-somethings from the community that hang out late and help us. My favorite cousins Gabe and Danny, (Gabriel Alan and Daniel Albert Poe.) are ALWAYS there for as late as we three want to hang. Sabastian and Jennifer Miles usually stay till the wee hours. Mostly anyone older than thirty jets on us not long after dark, but they're the ones who show up early in the mornings while we three are sleeping and do the BRUTAL work.
usually we celebrate the day's accomplishments with a brew, (Or wine in my case and a soda in Emily's.) and a joint on the front porch of the McCullough House, in which we currently reside, and talk about the next night's plan for Brier Rose Court.
By the end of July we should have all the walls of the first floor up and most of the electrical and plumbing finished. We haven't even begun to pick out a color pattern for the inside, but the outside will be overlayed with a gray stone sheeting to make it look old and, hopefully, somewhat castle-like.
The third floor is NO LONGER going to be an attic, rather it will be MY place completely. We'll have stairs going up from our bedroom on the second floor and a private entrance that goes down to my scooter garage. It will be my TRUE LIFE Sara's Darkness, and not just a blog on the Internet. Oooooh, the stories I will tell then, BWAHAHAHAHA! I'll detail the decor whenever we finally get to that part of the house.
The gymnasium, which will be on the second floor between the Master Bedroom and Laura's World, is going to take the most time to complete. Gym equipment is expensive so we're only going to buy one piece at a time and furnish it completely over the course of a year.
The same thing with the garden out back. We're doing all the brick work, along with the mock antique street lights and casibo, this year but we're going to wait till spring to plant it. The casibo will be white and I'm trying to find one that looks somewhat like a chapel. Thus the name, Whitechaple Park.
Although, now that I think of it, a BLACK casibo would be VERY cool. And I could call it Blackchaple Park. Mmmmmm....
Laura In The Sky With Diamonds
Sunday night. First party in L-Xtreme.
As you know, the new house will include a party room we three have designated "L-Xtreme." (The "L" standing for LESBIAN, of course.) Well, though it's not finished, as we've just finished the walls and ceiling, and the electricity works, we threw our first party.
Us, along with the Poe brothers, Gabe and Danny, gathered a bunch of folding tables from the community center, along with a couple dozen chairs, called up the Lesbo Brigade and told them to invite friends, and MANY people showed up at our empty and not quite finished Brier Rose Court on Saturday night.
A few people from the community that I wouldn't have expected to come to such an event showed up, too. Annalare, the Bishop family, Jesca's parents, and most of the people from the community apartments, who usually only party in their court, came and had a pretty good time.
A small group of us went trolluping through the woods and sat on the bluffs smoking weed for awhile. The flood waters have receded and West Quincy looks a mess.
Other news; Laura and Jesca are back together together. They were together before but Jesca was living with her parents. Now she's moved back into the McCullough House and current plans are for her to be a part of "Laura's World" when Brier Rose Court is finished.
We've finished most of the second and third floors. Most of the walls are finished on the second floor and once that is done work on the third floor, Sara's Darkness, will begin in full. It will be three rooms. A main room where I'll have my computer stuff, coffee station and comic book library, (Along with all my horror decor.) a half bathroom and a third, small, bare room with just a naked matrice on the floor and bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
For when I want to relax.
Rules to live by...
1) A place for everything and everything in it's place.
2) Well behaved women rarely make history.
3) Never take candy from strangers unless they offer you a ride.
4) You are being lied to.
5) There is no spoon.
Whitechapel Park will now be called Blackchapel Place due to the guest cabin and the casibo both having black pointy roofs.
I never leave the cap off the toothpaste. Emily does. I tell her time and time again, such as THIS MORNING, but she just smiles, hugs me, and says, "It'll be okay."
I FUCKING HATE IT WHEN SHE DOES THAT!
I never cry watching Rocky II anymore. You know, the part where Adrian says, "Win!" Pfft, not a tear.
I never leave the lids off my comic boxes. I never pass the knife drawer in the kitchen without checking to see if it's unlocked. I never refuse to play with my pussy when she craves attention (Or else she scratches up the carpet under my desk just to piss me off. Naughty pussy.) and I never turn down love makin' in the morning. (Or from a P.I. on a case.)
The first floor of the McCullough House is nearly vacant save for the kitchen stuff. The second floor is half-way packed and waiting till the second floor of Brier Rose Court is finished. We're thinking maybe late September instead of November and we can move in.
I never thought it would be so soon.
On a few occasions we, in pairs or all together, have "camped out" in the new house. It's partially furnished and has electricity and running water. The second floor has a few touch-ups still to do and the third floor needs more work but the house as a whole is nearly finished.
It's been too hot to work during the day so until the central air is connected work time has been limited to late evening through the night. Our workforce has dropped from twenty people down to about eight including us five, Gabe, Danny and Jacob.
A few nights back Lora and I were painting the master bedroom. The radio was playing and we were just being quiet, listening to it, when I started thinking about my mom and how she would never be able to see the beautiful house we were creating, or know how far I had come from the crazy girl that stayed locked in her room and online all the time, and I started to cry. I never do that any more.
It just suddenly came up from my belly and into my heart and out of my mouth and eyes at the same time. My eyes teared up so bad I couldn't see and a noise came up my throat that sounded not too unlike a dog whining. Lora must have looked at me because I felt her hands on me before I could wipe the tears from my eyes. It hurt so bad I wanted to double over and cry my eyes out but she held on fast, refusing to let me fall. Lora never lets me fall.
There have been a few nostalgic episodes from all of us over the past few weeks. Mostly at the McCullough House with sentences that start with the word 'remember.'
Laura wants to move her stuff over to Laura's World, (Which consists of her bedroom and private bath with a small adjoining room she uses as a music room, and her own balcony.) but there is NO WAY she's living there before me. NEVER HAPPEN!
My other sister, Analie, who lives in the loft on the top floor of The Poe House next door, has decided that she wants to stay there instead of moving into The McCullough House as planned. Lora and I are both a little stressed about this because that means the house will be empty again. We've gotten to love her and hoped Analie and my nephew James would keep her lights on, so to speak.
Unfortunately, for now at least, Analie said that isn't going to happen. (But at least she didn't say never.)
My desire and anticipation to get into Brier Rose Court clashes with the sadness I have leaving my home. But this isn't about me. It's about Lora and what she wants and what she has EARNED. It's about being with her and in her life because we saved each other and that's the thing that won't end.
Emily Graves, P.I.
The Case of the Donkey Dick!
It was a hot night in the little community on the bluffs. The kind of heat that makes you want to stay indoors with a cold drink and a cheap broad, not the reverse. The kind of night where anything can happen, but usually doesn't.
Emily Greta Ellison, going now by the name Emily Graves; Private Investigator, sat in her office, shades drawn, drink in hand, and thought about the rumors she had been hearing.
"It's HUGE!" She heard.
"Gotta be twelve inches," said another.
"Danny's got a dick the size of a donkey's," confirmed his brother Gabe.
It had been crawling around in her head almost constantly since she first heard the rumors.
Now, don't think for a minute that P.I.Graves was deserting the EVIL ways of Lesbianism. No, she has seen and had her share of the dreaded penis monster poking around inside of her, spewing it's vile excrement, growing up in Normal, Illinois.
No, she wasn't interested in it as a sexual thing, but rather as a person, like you or I, that, if we were in a room full of people and someone yelled, "Hey! Look at that 12 inch cock," our heads would turn. But P.I.Graves started taking the whole damn thing too seriously.
She had been sitting there for over an hour. Finally, her mind made up, she swigged back her drink, not usually one for the hard stuff, the Coke bubbles made her sneeze, (Awwwwww!) then threw on her trench and fedora and walked out the door. (She looks SO friggin' adorable coming down the stairs into the community store, her coat and hat on with her collar up and her hands in her pockets like someone is going to recognize her.)
She looked around the room and saw her first suspect. It was a cute little brunette with big brown eyes holding a clipboard and counting how many cans of tabacco were on the shelf.
"Miss," she said, "you're going to have to come with me."
The little brunette looked at her, looked down at the clipboard, then back at P.I.Graves, smiled and said, "Okay. Laura, watch the store for a few."
"Oh, God. Here they go again," came a pesterly little voice in the distance as the door shut on the storage room. Followed by a shouted, "Is this any way to run a business?!?"
"I'm going to have to search you for clues," said the P.I. to her suspect.
The brunette undid then unzipped her cut-offs, leaned against the wall and said, "Go deep."
Twenty minutes later, having gained a lot of valuable information from the first suspect, P.I.Graves headed out into the community to look for more clues.
She walked over to the only streetlight on the block and pulled out a joint from her coat pocket. She lit it. Inhaled deeply, then blew the smoke into the night air.
Across the street sat Jacob Adams' house. Or, "Jacob's Abode," as he likes to call it. And there, on the front porch, along with Jacob and his brother Gabe, sat her prime suspect in The Case of the Donkey Dick; Danial Albert Poe.
"Hey," yelled Gabe, "You gonna share that. I can smell it from here."
"Gotcha!" She thought to herself.
"Hey, boys," she said as she walked up the steps and passed the joint to Gabe. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Wondering if you're gonna pole dance for us," came an asshole remark from an asshole name Jacob.
"I will if you will," came P.I.Graves snappy comeback.
"I will if you do," came a cutie remark from cutie suspect Danny.
Thinking quickly about a way to see if the rumors were true, P.I.Graves said, "Okay, go put on a thong."
"You first," he replied, trying to be flirty.
"I've already got one on," Said P.I.Graves with and evil smile.
"So do I," said Danny with a 'what-now' look on his face.
P.I.Graves laughed, "You're clever. I like you." Hesitated..."can I see your penis?"
"Excuse me?," said Danny with a confused look on his face.
"Okay, look...I don't want to like, TOUCH IT, or, y'know, do THINGS to it. I just wanna see how big it is. `K?" said the P.I., serious as a heart attack.
Heckling from the bystanders.
"Show me yours, I'll show you mine," said Clever Danny, serious as a fuckin' issue of 'Buffy Season 8.'
The P.I. thought about it for a moment, thought about her lover Sara's reaction and wondered if the knife drawer in the kitchen was locked, then replied, "No, but show me yours anyway."
Laughter from all around.
Realizing that this form of interrogation was going nowhere, P.I.Graves walked away from the jumbled mess of good-for-nothing-but-sperm-donation bunch, and headed back to her office to reformulate her plans.
P.I.Graves walked back into the community store knowing that the task ahead was going to be HUGE, no pun intended. She would need some form of inspiration to help her through this mess and the Coca-Cola just wasn't doing it. As she started to walk up the stairs to her office she noticed her first suspect, the little brunette, squatting down and trying to push a crate under a shelf.
"Excuse me, miss," she could feel the brunette smile, "but I think you need to come with me."
The Girl In The Strappy Sandles
She walked into my life on a Wednesday, the girl in the strappy sandles did. It was Pasta Night at the community center and I first saw her standing across the dining room talking to David Raye, the Late grandma Etta Raye's grandson.
David had come home from California after grandma Etta died and never left. This new girl, had the look of a Raye, with her blond, almost white hair and green eyes, but she wasn't from around here. Nor was she from our community in Maine. Judging from her tan I assumed that she must be part of the Raye family that left the community back in the 1950s and ventured out to California. They had half-heartedly kept in touch with the community, but weren't really a part of it anymore.
I decided against approaching her then, and within an hour she and David were gone.
Friday night we have an open bar at the community center for anyone over twenty-one that wants to come and have a good time. And there again was the girl in the strappy sandles.
I was actually behind the bar washing bar glasses when she came in alone. There was an average crowd of about sixty and she started looking around to see if she recognized anybody. I looked over at Lora, who was talking to Jacob, (They've actually become good friends even though he's a sexist asshole sometimes.) and saw that she was looking in the girl's direction, too.
Now, Lora and I are of like mind. At that moment, when she turned and looked at me, I knew she wanted to see if I had spotted the girl in the strappy sandles as well.
Unspoken, I looked back at the girl, then back at Lora, and we both smiled.
Lora excused herself from Jacob and headed over to the bar.
"Who is she?" I asked.
"THAT, is Elizabeth Sarah Raye. Fresh from the Pacific coast. They call her Beth." She replied.
I looked back at Beth, who was talking to Jennifer Miles, and said, "She's hot."
"And straight," said Lora.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"David said she came here because she broke up with her boyfriend and was too crushed to stay in San Diego," said Lora with a smirk.
"Boys suck," I said before she could. "Now's the time to pounce, right?"
"We don't seduce straight girls, Miss Poe."
"We did once," I reminded her.
"Not really. Tammy wanted it. It wasn't like we were plotting or anything. She was up for it and plus we were all drunk, so..." she said, looking back at the girl, then down at her strappy sandles. "She does have nice shoes."
"Nice enough to seduce her?" I questioned.
"Have you been drinking?" She asked, poking her head over the bar to see if I had a glass stashed.
"No. I'm just saying. Look at her. She's hot, newly single...vulnerable." I said.
"Stop." She cut me off. "You sound like one of THEM!"
"I'm an EVIL lesbian, bitch, I can be worse than THEM!" I said then poked my head forward for a kiss.
She hesitated, then said, "Do you really want her?"
I was slightly startled at that.
"No...I was just..." and couldn't really find words till, "Do you?" I asked.
Lora didn't reply right away. Instead she took a long look at the girl in the strappy sandles, then back at me and finally, "We'll talk about it later.
Then she smiled and walked back over to Jacob.
There's a little tiny black spider that lives under my bed and sometimes crawls up on my pillow at night. No, I don't have bugs, the little black spider just knows that we're friends, is all. I'm going to miss him.
The house is nearly finished. While we're still "living" at the McCullough House, we actually don't spend too much time there. Next week or so Lora, Emily and I, alone, will come here and pack up the last few remaining things we have and carry them to Brier Rose Court. I imagine walking out the front door that last time, with her fate still uncertain, will be very hard for us.
Brier Rose Court is an amazing sight to behold. At least for us it is. The drive comes in at a circle with enough parking for ten cars. (If you kinda SQUEEZE them. Plus, there's parking on the street for when we have parties in L-Xtreme.)
The entire three story house is overlaid with a gray mock-stone. We have a huge front porch and a red brick pathway that stretches from the front, around the side and into the back yard to our as yet unfinished Blackchapel Place.
Walking into the front door; there is a large foyer with a double staircase. To the right is the living room and to the left is our Circle Room. Straight forward is the kitchen with it's own little breakfast nook. To the right of the kitchen is the dining room, master bathroom, and the entrance to L-Xtreme.
We have a pantry and laundry room off the kitchen. (No cellar, boo hoo.)
Walk up the double staircase and you walk into our family room. (It's kinda like a second living room but with cooler furniture.) Off the family room is the master bedroom, Laura's World, the soon-to-be gymnasium, Lora's office, the guest bedroom and a quaint little balcony just big enough for five or six people.
The entrance to the third floor, Sara's Darkness, is in the master bedroom. I've only just started to move stuff up there to decorate it. My computer is still here, at the McCullough House, and since that will be the centerpiece I'm not in such a big hurry to get it done.
We debated putting up a fence in front. Not to keep people out because there is NOT ONE fence in the community, but rather for show. I had my eyes on this black gothic one that would have looked SO COOL with the gray stonework. But in the end it didn't seem right for two reasons.
One; having a fence means you want to keep people out. That is the last impression we want to give the rest of the community. Two; it would have been too flashy. Lora has a lot of 'power' in the community. She likes to keep a low profile and believes that she needs to set an example for everyone else. (Yeah, she's kinda high-and-mighty on herself but it's true so...)
Also, although we're only about the distance of two city blocks from the old house, we're going to have new neighbors. Before, it was my family, Elder Malcolm and his wife, the Montclair and St Croix families, and Annalara. The community center was right across the street and the community store around the corner.
Now we're right next door to the Raye House, just across the pumpkin patch is the Bishop House, across the street is Jesca's family, and just down the way is the community apartments. (Which should make for some fun stories down the line.) The community center is now two blocks away but the community store is STILL around the corner. (Just another block to walk is all.)
I published the first issue of the community newsletter last week. "The Community Chronicles" wasn't as big a hit as I'd hoped. I put a hundred copies in the community center and there were about thirty of them gone this evening. I got a couple of comments but nothing big.
Elder Malcolm actually took a big part in it. So much that I gave him his own desk in the office. (The "office" being the room next to Emily Graves, P.I.'s office on the second floor of the community store.)
Elder Malcolm contributed some recipes and wrote two articles for the newsletter. He also has a couple of ideas that I'm going to use.
All in all I would say that life is going pretty swell. Just in case the two or three of you that still read this wanted to know. :)
Interview with the Lesbian
***This interview was conducted by Editor In Chief of the monthly newsletter, The Community Chronicles, Sara Jane Poe. This is the unedited version.***
Interviewer; Let me introduce the two participants in this, the first of what I hope will become a regular column with different community members each month, Lorabelle Tempest Riley, activity coordinator of our community center, and Emily Greta Ellison, who works at our community store.
Interviewer; And is the community private investigator known as Emily Graves, P.I.
Emily; Thank you.
Interviewer; First I want to ask you to both give a brief description of how you came to live in the community. Lora...
Lora; Well, I was having some problems at home and you and I were together, I mostly stayed at your house anyway, so one night, when I couldn't get my mom out of the bar I called you, ("You" is the interviewer.) and you came and rescued me. That's when Billy, (The interviewer's step-dad.) talked my mom into letting me live with your family for a while. I've been here every since.
Interviewer; Seven years.
Lora; Seven great years.
Interviewer; Okay, Emily...
Emily; Uuuuuh, you guys seduced me and I stayed.
Lora; Can you print that?
Interviewer; Watch me. (Laughter from all.) Okay, next question; What do you like most about living here?
Lora; That we're not judged. We're treated as equals and our opinion means something. That, and the fact that I feel a sense of accomplishment every day I do my job.
Interviewer; I like that. Emily...
Emily; I was going to say all the lesbian sex we have but now that sounds so petty. (More laughter.) I guess it's because I can be who I want to be and nobody looks at me like a weirdo.
Lora; Sara paved the way for you.
Emily; Plus, everybody here is so cool.
Interviewer; Okay, speaking of lesbian sex...
Interviewer; Okay, where were we?
Emily; Why does she always have to pee after we do it?
Interviewer; I think she washes off.
Emily; What, she doesn't like having both of our spit all over her pussy?
Interviewer; That was hot.
Interviewer; Everybody ready? Okay, give me a brief description of your job.
Lora; I love my job. Especially since you order all the weekly supplies at the store now. That took a lot of time. I plan out all the weekly events. Not only at the community center, but for the festivals and any other celebrations we have.
Interviewer; You do a damn fine job.
Emily; I help you at the community store.
Interviewer; Okay, now...
Emily; And...! (laughter) I solve mysteries and am learning to tell people's fortunes. I'm actually working on a big, and I mean HUGE case right now that...
Interviewer; You need to drop that.
Emily; Why? I can't let a case go unsolved.
Lora; You're starting to freak Danny out. He said you tried to peek at him through the bathroom window yesterday. (Heh, with her trench coat and fedora on.)
Emily; Look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you don't want to see it!
Lora; I DON'T want to see it.
Emily; Okay, you probably don't, but you, (Points to interviewer.) I know you want to see it.
Interviewer; Well...I'm not DYING to see it, but if I were in a crowded room and somebody yelled, "Hey! Look at that 12 inch..."
Lora; Why do you encourage her?
Interviewer; Insanity needs to be encouraged or it fades away.
Emily; Yeah! Hey..?
Interviewer; Oooookay; next question; If you could sleep with any one of our friends, who would it be?
Lora; That's not going in the newsletter.
Interviewer; No, but I want to know.
Lora; None of them.
Emily; Your sister. Laura, not Analie.
Interviewer; That's too close to incest.
Interviewer; Because after you ate her out you'd come right to me and do the same with her pussy juices still all over your face.
Emily; (Smiles.) I would, too.
Lora; Okay, you guys need to stop. Laura and Jesca are off limits, period. We agreed.
Interviewer; We didn't agree on Jesca.
Emily; I love her boobs.
Lora; Jesca is off limits by association.
Emily; Yeah! What she said.
Lora; I'm gonna hide your Maltese Falcon dvd if you start.
Emily; Evil lesbian.
Lora; Dick wanna-seer.
Emily; What? Oh, okay. DO NOT! Well, I do, but not for any other reason than to solve this huge, and I mean HUGE mystery.
Interviewer; Ew, but it's just so gross.
Emily; I know. (Crinkles nose.) Hey, maybe we could devise a trap that would just CHOP it off and we could examine it then.
Lora; Slice it open and see how it gets hard.
Interviewer. But if we chopped it off then it wouldn't get hard. My suggestion would be to invite him over, get him into the cellar, and let me take care of the rest.
Silence on the tape...
Lora; Nah, we'd get in too much trouble.
Emily; Not as much if we left him alive, right?
Interview; This is getting too long. I still have seven more questions.
Lora; We can finish tomorrow night.
My grandmother isn't a monster. My grandmother isn't a monster. My grandmother isn't a monster. My grandmother isn't a monster!
That's what I kept repeating to myself over and over the first time I remember staying at my grandmother's house. I was about seven or eight and we, mom, dad, self and two sisters, were visiting from Chicago. Analie was around eleven and was laying next to me telling me how my grandmother was known as the pig-lady and went to prison for cutting little kid's heads off and digging out their brains with her long sharp fingernails. Laura, who was only about five, was already fast asleep.
I remember laying there in the bedroom my sister Laura now has and thinking that I had to get out of there before my grandma came creeping through the door wanting to scrape MY brains out.
A year or so later, after my dad died and my family moved into the McCullough House with my grandmother, she wasn't very nice to us girls. I've always thought that she hated us because her son, my father, died and we lived. I've always thought that she knew what was inside of me.
The way she would look at me sometimes...
So, I guess it wasn't a surprise that after Lora and I moved into the McCullough House, my grandmother, dead for over a year, would start visiting me late at night when I was alone and usually online.
Okay, YES, I know NOW that it was just my imagination and now, after six different levels of medication, I know longer see my dead grandma.
I no longer see wallgnomes or those little metal buzzing fly thingies or any other such thing that use to haunt most of my waking hours. (I won't even begin to tell you what lurked within my dreams.) I no longer feel her watching me.
But the thing is...
See, and I know this might sound a weeeeeee bit crazy but...
But I still think she's here.
I still 100% believe that she walks the floors of this house all the time and just can't make contact any more because the heavy meds have blocked whatever allowed me to know of her.
Sometimes, the way she use to do, I still feel her rotting head laying on my knee. She would just appear on the floor next to me while I was at the Bendis Board or Agric's board or any other place I visited, and lay her head on my knee.
I would pretend I didn't notice her as much as possible. The maggots would fall off her head and land on my feet, trying desperately to wiggle their slimy little bodies between my toes to escape from the light, but still I would just sit there and take it. Hoping she would take the hint but all the while knowing she wouldn't leave until I actually jumped up from my desk and scream, "LEAVE ME ALONE, BITCH!"
Which would usually wake Lora and I would have to come to bed.
The wallgnomes weren't so bad except for that time I imagined that they were in my hair and I was bleeding all over my face. Lora found me crying at my desk and I went to Newman Clinic for a weekend for observation.
That was fucked up.
I hadn't been there since that time I poisoned Erika St Croix's dog and I hated it as much the second time as I did the first. (But I'm much better now.)
Will I miss dead grandmas? Will I miss the thought of her standing behind me wringing her rotting hands or sitting at my feet saying, "Grandma just wants pretty-pretty to brush her hair."
No. No I don't think so. I think I've grown beyond that.
The McCullough House
Four years past...
I remember the smell mostly. The old house hadn't been opened in more than a year, since my grandmother died. Plastic sheets and large flat boards covered the windows and kept out the fresh air so the place smelled of dust and unused furniture.
My mother was the one who suggested Lora and I move in. We had been living at 5th Street Apartments when my step-dad owned them, (We actually had to get REAL jobs in Quincy! UGH!) and I wasn't coping well with being away from the community. Lora loved the idea from jump.
The electricity wasn't connected when we first went to check the place out so we didn't venture far into the darkness. Mostly we looked around the first floor to see what furniture was there. The old house felt very alone. I stood in the foyer at the bottom of the staircase and couldn't help but to say out loud...
"She's still here."
Which made Lora CREEP up behind me, touch my shoulder and scare the crap out of me.
"This place has been silent for eighteen months, baby..." she said, putting her arms around my belly and her chin on my shoulder to comfort me,"...and we'll have a whole house to do with as we please."
I looked up the stairs, the only light stretched up the floor from the open front door, and thought I saw a shadow pass. But those were times of less medication and I thought I saw shadows pass just about everywhere so I let it go then. Let it go not knowing the hurt and growth this house would force on me over the next four years.
"It'll be just the two of us? Forever?" I asked, knowing but still wanting to hear her say it.
"Just the two of us. Always." She said. (Pfft! Till half the lesbians in Quincy moved in with us.)
"Can weeee..." I hesitated, "decorate with skulls and spiders and bats?"
She squeezed me tighter, "Maybe."
"Maybe, but probably not, right?" I asked.
She squeezed even tighter still and made a slight rocking motion, "Mmmmmmm, maybe but probably not, right!"
Then she turned me around and kissed me quickly.
"This can be US. OUR home. Our Always and Forever." She said with a please-say-yes look on her face.
"It smells," I said, kissing her, "but, yes."
this is the way the world ends
And that's the last tale from the McCullough House. I don't know whats to become of her. She'll sit there till the family makes their final decision, I suppose. Most likely though, in a few weeks men will show up with plastic sheets and large flat boards to cover the windows as she was when Lora and I first walked in to her that day. Dark, silent and alone.
As we walked towards the front door that last time I heard a creaking noise coming from the attic and remembered that I had left dead grandma's rocker next to the window...
~Sara Jane Poe
The McCullough House