Once Upon A Time…

Once upon a time, there was a kystical mingdom called Worthington.  In that kystical mingdom, lived a pransome hince.  The pransome hince was in love with a mair faiden who was trapped in a tigh hower.  The tigh hower was guarded by a dearsom fragon.

To rescue the mair faiden, the pransome hince had to slay the dearsome fragon.  In order to slay the dearsome fragon, the pransome hince had to find a dagical magger.  The dagical magger was hidden high on mop of a tountain.  The mop of the tountain could only be reached by a hying florse.

Hying florses only lived vown in the dalley.  The pransome hince made his way vown in the dalley and caught a hying florse.  They flew to the mop of the tountain where the pransome hince found the dagical magger.

The pransome hince and his hying florse flew to the tigh hower where his mair faiden waited.  With one swift blow, the pransome hince slew the dearsom fragon.  The pransome hince put his mair faiden on his hying florse and they flew back to the kystical mingdom.

The subjects chapped and cleared as the pransome hince and his mair faiden said their varriage mows.

After they kinderly tissed, they mell into the foat and drowned.

The Happiness Tag

happiness tag

I was nominated for the Happiness Tag by Stephanie over at makingtimeforme.  She is a prolific blogger and is just a wonderful friend and supporter.  Her blogs never cease to be entertaining and if you aren’t already following her, give her a look.  You’ll be glad you did.

Wow.  I don’t even know how to approach this because it has been so long since I have actually been happy but I’ll give it a shot.  I’ll have to delve deep down into the dark, twisty places in my demented mind and see if I can find my G spot.  (For all you other demented minds out there, that means my “giggle” spot.)  I don’t even know what the G in that other spot stands for…”good” maybe?
Anyway, with a hitch in my gitty-up, here I go.

Five things that make me happy:

1. Talking to my RBS.  Due to certain circumstances, I don’t get to talk to her very often but when I do, it makes me very happy.  (It makes me particularly happy when she tells me about a faux pas that her boss commits.)

2.  It makes me happy when I don’t wake up dead.  If I did, I think it would be disturbing at best and would piss me the fuck off at worst.  (Now if I woke up dead next to Wentworth Miller, that would make me happy beyond my wildest dreams.)

3.  Although I no longer have a family, it makes me happy to think that when I did, I tried to do my best.  No, wait.  That makes me sad.  Oh, well.  I’ll pretend just for today.

4.  I am happy to be free, although it is tempered with loss.  Like I said, it was a Pyrrhic victory.  The line in the song “Bobby McGee” is perfect for me.  “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.”

5.  It makes me happy to have my memory but it is also a curse.  I was praised when something needed to be remembered but criticized and accused of “never letting anything go” otherwise.  I could recite verbatim, the 12 page letter I wrote to Loser two years ago this month.  Once I hear it or write it, it is there forever.  Sometimes, I hate it but if given the choice of being “normal” or eidetic…I would still choose eidetic.
Yes, it’s wonderful to have such a remarkable memory.  (Oh, did I say that already?  I forgot.)

Five songs that make me happy:

1.  It doesn’t necessarily make me happy but it does make me giggle (hits the G spot), especially when I picture using “somebody” for alligator bait in the Louisiana bayou:  “Amos Moses” by Jerry Reed.

2.  I smile when I hear “Nights in White Satin” by the Moody Blues.  It reminds me of the boy I should have stayed with instead of leaving him for fucking Loser.

3.  A song that never fails to give me chills is “Amazing Grace” especially when accompanied by bagpipes.

4.  I could listen to “Nessun Dorma” sung by Luciano Pavarotti all day long.

5.  I think Adele has one of the most remarkable voices I have ever heard but she sings about love that is and was and I don’t believe in that shit anymore, so I don’t listen to her songs.  (I guess technically, that doesn’t make me happy but if I did listen to them, it would.)


I’ll add one more thing that makes me happy and that is all the wonderful supporters in my band of bloggies, who appreciate my dark, twisty stories, my sarcasm, my irreverent sense of humor and my fingernails.  Again, (in Elvis voice) “uh, thank you.  Uh, thank you very much!” 

Here are the bloggers I nominate to do this tag:







The Silent Room – Chapter Six

Marilyn knew that she had quite possibly gone mad but she was driven by blind rage.  Her need for revenge was insatiable and nothing was going to stop her from getting that revenge…not even the Hippocratic oath.

She continued to work and people noticed a sort of aloofness about her but they attributed it to just being her own individual coping mechanism.  Considering what she had endured, they were surprised that she could function at all.

One night as she was drinking a glass of wine, something occurred to her.  She thought “how ironic.  This monster took the only thing I had left to live for but by doing that, he has given me another reason to live.”

The next afternoon, she administered a local anesthetic and looked at Nick.  She said “I’m going to take everything from you.  I think I’ll start with your left foot.”  Reverend Nick said “what do you mean?  What are you going to do?”
Her gentian violet ink marking pen indicated where she would start and end her incision.  First, she would cut through the epidermis, the dermis and then the subcutaneous layers of skin.  When she picked up the bone saw, Reverend Nick screamed “please, Marilyn.  Please don’t do this.”

She smiled and said “cutting through muscle and tissue is very easy when you have a sharp blade but cutting through bone is a little more difficult.  That’s what this is for.”  After she severed his foot, she carefully sutured and bandaged the wound.  She put his foot into a plastic bag and as she was walking out, said “I’ll give that a little time to heal.”

Nobody in the neighborhood thought it was unusual to see Marilyn planting flowers in her rather large yard so she was able to dispose of the foot without any suspicion.

After a month of healing, Marilyn told Reverend Nick that it was now time to take his right foot.  He angrily said “why don’t you just kill me.”

Marilyn said “you will find no comfort in death and your suffering will not soon end.  When you murdered my child, you sentenced me to a lifetime of suffering.  I have now sentenced you to the same.”

Every month, Marilyn took another piece of Reverend Nick.  His lower legs, his upper legs, his hands, his lower arms and finally, his upper arms were taken.  She carefully attended to each amputation to insure its proper healing.  Only twice did she have to shock his heart back into rhythm.

Now he lay there, just a torso and a head.  His limbs rested in the new flower garden she had planted in the back yard.

He had long ago stopped begging and crying and pleading his innocence.  As she removed the straps from his chest, she told him that he could try to maneuver himself off of the table but when he hit the concrete floor, he was likely to dislodge his feeding tube and the waste bags.  She said “if you do manage to get off the table and onto the floor, that’s where you will stay until the day you die.  I would advise you to stay on the table.  Remember, a body cannot suffer in sweet repose.”

Marilyn looked at him as she walked out and said “in the next couple of days, I am going to decide whether to take your eyes…and your tongue.  They can be taken from you on the table…or on the floor.”

The next day, there was a knock on her door.  When she opened it, Sheriff Dodd was standing there.  He asked if he could come in.  Marilyn swallowed hard and said “of course.”  As she led him into the living room, she found herself looking at the door that led downstairs to the silent room.

Sheriff Dodd said “Marilyn, I need to talk to you about something and I’ll get right to the point.”  She could feel her pulse quicken and wondered if she said “okay” out loud.

He said “we found him.  We found the man who murdered Erica.  He’s in custody and is being booked right now.  We have irrefutable evidence and he just made a full confession.”

Marilyn?  Marilyn?




The Silent Room – Chapter Five

The next morning, Marilyn came into the room and said “how are you feeling today?”  Reverend Nick moaned and pleaded with her again to let him go.  Ignoring him, she said “it looks like the hole surrounding the feeding tube is going to close on its own.  I don’t see any need for stitches so now you’ll get your first meal.”

She said “I’ve added an antibiotic to help with any potential infection and I’ve decided to wait a few days before I start the next procedure.”  Reverend Nick had tears in his eyes as he asked her not to do it. She said “are you afraid?”  He said “yes.”  She smiled as she finished the feeding and said “good.”

People started to notice that Reverend Nick had not been seen for the last few days.  Most believed that due to the stigma of the trial and possibly the guilt, he had just left town.  Since the parish belonged to the church and the van he drove had been provided by the congregation, nothing was suspected when the van was left behind.

The very few supporters he still had were saddened by his departure and they tried to understand his need to leave.  The search for a new pastor began.  The town needed a new beginning and wanted to put that terrible tragedy behind them.  Only a soft investigation into Reverend Nicks’ disappearance was conducted.  After all, he had been exonerated and was free to leave if he wanted.

Five days had passed since Marilyn had given Reverend Nick a feeding tube and it was healing nicely. That afternoon, she came in the room and said “I won’t be feeding you today.  It’s never a good idea to have a surgical procedure with a full stomach.”

She looked at Reverend Nick and said “you don’t have anything to say?”  Reverend Nick said “I am putting my life into Gods’ hands.”  Marilyn laughed as she said “your life is not in Gods’ hands.  Your life is in MY hands and my hands are going to take part of your intestines from inside your body and put them outside your body.”

She anesthetized the site and made an incision.  It wasn’t a difficult procedure as no part of his intestines were necrotic.  It was just a straight cut and re-positioning.  She attached the bag that would collect his waste and with a few stitches, the operation was complete.

She asked Reverend Nick again, if he was feeling any pain.  She knew he was lying when he said “no.”  She angrily said “you will.”  She pressed hard on the incision and watched him cringe.  Again she asked.  “How about now?  Are you feeling any pain?”  Reverend Nick cried out “yes, yes.”  She said “I could give you something for it, if you’d like.”  He said “yes, please.”  She looked down at him and said “I don’t think so.”  As she was leaving the room, she said “I will see you again tomorrow.”

She was dutiful when it came to feeding him and emptying his bags.  After almost a month, he had completely healed.  There was no sign of infection.  He had never spiked a fever and seemed to tolerate the high protein liquid diet well.  He had lost weight but not enough to cause alarm.

Marilyn looked at him and said “tomorrow’s a big day.”  When he asked her what she meant, she smiled.  She said “get a good nights’ rest and don’t forget to say your prayers.”

When she walked in the next morning, she rolled her tray of instruments to the side of the table.  She picked them up one by one.  “Here is the scalpel.  Here is the cauterizer and this”…Nick had a look of pure horror on his face as he asked her what she was planning to do.

She grabbed his face with her hand and said “revenge is my new art and I’m about to paint my masterpiece.”







The Silent Room – Chapter Four

Marilyn drove to Reverend Nicks’ house and smiled at him as he got into her car.  He told her how happy he was that she had called and asked if she wanted to go somewhere and get something to eat and talk.  She said “yes, but first, I have to pick up something at my house.”

When they pulled into the garage, Marilyn invited him to come in.  She asked him if he would like a glass of wine before they went to dinner.  She had already crushed two Valium and carefully stirred the wine as she put them into his glass.  Reverend Nick offered a toast to “friendship.” Marilyn played her part well as she smiled and echoed the toast.

It wasn’t going to be long before the drug took effect so she coyly asked him if she had ever shown him the room where Eric had practiced his music.  He said “no, but I’d like to see it.”

Marilyn said “it’s this way.”  They descended the stairs into the basement and as she opened the door, she said “we had it completely sound-proofed so his music wouldn’t disturb the neighbors.  We always called it the silent room.”

When she turned on the light, Reverend Nick said “this is a music room?  It looks more like an operating room.”  He walked over to the barber chair.  Marilyn told him about the chair and as he admired it, he said he suddenly felt dizzy.

When he became a little less steady on his feet, Marilyn helped him to an island that had been turned into a makeshift operating table.  She told him to lie down while he tried to get his bearings.  He soon lost consciousness.

A few hours later and still groggy, he opened his eyes and realized that he was naked and had been strapped to the table.  Marilyn leaned over him and said “I won’t be calling you Reverend anymore because a man of God wouldn’t do what you did.
From now on, I will call you what you are.  I’m going to call you monster.  You couldn’t have me so you decided to take the only thing I had left.  The only thing that gave me a reason to live.  I know you murdered my child and that makes you a monster.”

Nick said “I swear to God.  I never touched Erica.  You have to believe me.”  Before he could finish, she said “I’m going to have to perform a few procedures before we get started.”  Nick asked what kind of procedures and Marilyn said “for now, just a cath in your penis and a feeding tube.  Tomorrow, I’ll give you a colectomy.  Those things are necessary before I can continue my work but don’t worry.  I’m a doctor and I’m good at what I do.”

She taunted Nick as she almost playfully lined up the scalpels, clamps, and syringes.  She was intentionally rough when inserting the cath and he cried out in pain.  She said “did my child scream while you were beating her?”
With a grimace on his face, he said “Marilyn, please.  I’m begging you.  Don’t do this.”  She looked down at him and said “did Erica beg you not to hurt her?”

Marilyn coldly said “okay, monster.  The cath is in and now it’s time for the feeding tube.  Regretfully, you will only receive a local anesthetic for this.”  After a few seconds, she said “actually, maybe you won’t.”

Before she made the incision, she smiled and said “this might hurt a little.”  Nick screamed.  She said “did Erica scream while you were strangling her?  She didn’t did she?  She couldn’t, could she?  She couldn’t because you had your hands around her throat.  Scream all you want.  Nobody is going to hear you.”

Nick pleaded with her to listen to him.  He said “Marilyn, you are making a terrible mistake.”  She ignored his pleas and as she took off her gloves, she said “okay, monster.  All done…for now.  Tell me.  Are you in any pain?”

Nick, gasping for breath and almost in shock, said “yes.”  Marilyn said “good” and turned to walk out of the room.

Nick called to her and said “are you going to kill me?”

Marilyn walked back over to him, bent down and softly said “no.  I’m not going to kill you.  I’m just going to make you wish I had.”




The Silent Room – Chapter Three

Marilyns’ parents lived only two blocks away and they had been a tremendous support system.  They thought it best that Erica stay with them until Marilyn could regain her footing and she agreed, although when she wasn’t working, she spent the day with Erica.
When Erica begged to take her bicycle so she could ride it to school, Marilyn relented with the request that she go straight to school and straight to her grandparents’ house after.

Marilyn returned to work and was putting in long hours, trying to keep her mind from remaining stagnant with grief. Some days, she stumbled a bit but she knew that she had to keep on trying to reach some sort of normalcy again.
She had to constantly remind herself that others’ lives were in her hands and she needed to stay focused.

Marilyn had never told her parents about Reverend Nick so when her mother called and casually mentioned how comforting it seemed to be to Erica when Reverend Nick stopped by, she was furious.  “What are you talking about,” she asked.  Her mother said “Reverend Nick comes to see Erica almost every day after school and sometimes, they go to the pizza place.”  Marilyn was trying to control her anger as she told her mother that she was never to allow Reverend Nick to see Erica again and that she would explain later.

She called Reverend Nick and told him that she thought she made it clear when she warned him to stay away from them and he was not going to use Erica to get to her.
He tried to assure her that his intentions were noble but Marilyn hung up after the final warning, “stay away from me and my child.”

Three weeks later, the unthinkable happened.  Erica didn’t come home from school.  In a panic, Marilyns’ mother called Sheriff Dodd, who went to the hospital to tell Marilyn.

Everybody was questioned about their whereabouts on that day and everybody was cleared, except Reverend Nick. He had no alibi other than “being in the church, praying, alone.”  When asked who he was praying for, Reverend Nick said “Marilyn and Erica,” which immediately raised eyebrows.

After Marilyn told Sheriff Dodd about the situation with Reverend Nick, coupled with having no alibi, he decided to issue a search warrant for the parish and the van which had been provided by the congregation.  Although no evidence was found, suspicion was still growing.

People started to question the motives for the lavish attention he had paid to Marilyn and Erica in the past.  They also openly questioned just how much more sorrow Marilyn could endure.

Reverend Nick was picked up and once again, questioned for hours.  Since he could not corroborate his whereabouts, he became the prime suspect.

Two days after she disappeared, Ericas’ broken little body was found at the bottom of a dumpster behind the local Pizza Hut.  Her clothes, shoes and socks were missing and a piece of her hair had been cut off.  The autopsy revealed that she had been beaten and strangled.  No traces of foreign DNA could be found on her body which led the coroner to believe that the killer had worn gloves.

There was an outcry for the capture of the monster who had committed such a horrible crime and once again, the focus turned to Reverend Nick.

Despite his continued pleas of innocence, he was ultimately arrested and charged with Ericas’ murder.
Marilyn went to visit him while he was incarcerated.  When he walked out in his orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, his face showed a glimmer of hope as reached for her but she turned away.
With unbridled anger, she screamed “you did this…NICK and you are going to pay!”

He said “please believe me when I tell you that I had nothing to do with this.  I would never hurt her and you know it. I would never hurt you.  I would never hurt anybody.”
She slapped him hard across the face.  The guard came over and told her that she needed to go.  As she was leaving the visitation room, she screamed again “you did this.  You murdered my child!”

During the trial, the district attorney confided to Marilyn that he believed Reverend Nick would not be convicted due to lack of evidence and he wanted her to be prepared.  What little evidence they did have was circumstantial, at best. Marilyn was eerily calm when she said she wasn’t worried because she knew that justice was going to prevail.

After a three-month trial, just as the district attorney had predicted, Reverend Nick was found not guilty due to lack of evidence and the states’ inability to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.
When the not guilty verdict was read, Marilyn smiled and quietly walked out of the courtroom.

Reverend Nicks’ reputation was all but destroyed.  He reopened the church doors on the following Sunday but only three people attended the service.  He vowed to continue to have services as long as just one person walked through the door.

Marilyn had done exactly what the district attorney told her to do.  She had prepared for the not guilty verdict.

She called Reverend Nick.  He was delighted to hear her voice.  When she asked him if they could talk, he said that his prayers had been answered.  He told her that he could be over in a few minutes but she said “actually, I have an errand to run so I will come pick you up.”


The Silent Room – Chapter Two

Three weeks after their anniversary, Eric died.  Marilyn was beside herself with grief and was absolutely inconsolable.  How was she ever going to recover?  He was the love of her life.  When he was buried, she felt as if she went into the ground with him.

Erica was only eight years old and really didn’t understand the concept of death.  She just knew that her daddy wasn’t there anymore.  Marilyn tried to explain to her that God had decided He needed another angel in Heaven and chose her daddy.

Marilyns’ mother and father asked her to bring Erica and come stay with them for a while.  Marilyn asked them if they would just let Erica stay because she needed to be alone.

Every night, Marilyn would go to the room in the basement.  She knew that her screams would be silent there.
Often, she would wake up the next morning on the floor or sitting in Erics’ barber chair.  That chair was one of Erics’ most prized possessions.  It had been in his grandfathers’ barbershop.  She could still picture him sitting in it, playing his guitar and smiling at her as he practiced a new song.

Friends and family called, offering condolences and help but Marilyn, as graciously as she could, always declined.  She told them that she just needed time.

She knew she needed to return to work.  She knew that Erica needed her and she made her best effort to at least try to function, although she was in a zombie-like state most of the time.
She refused to talk about Eric and all of her medical training told her that she was doing the wrong thing by shutting herself off but she continued to withdraw.

She finally sought comfort in the counsel of Reverend Nick Burke.  She and Eric were members of the church but due to their schedules, they couldn’t always attend services.

Reverend Nick was a handsome man and a confirmed bachelor who always said he didn’t have time for a wife because he was too busy serving God.  He was well liked in the community and had a reputation for being kind and understanding.  He had given a wonderful eulogy for Eric and had virtually held Marilyn up during the service.

Reverend Nick told Marilyn that he was always just a phone call or short drive away.  He came over often and was always ready with an inspirational scripture, meant to try to inspire her to, as he put it, find a reason to carry on.
Although Marilyn wasn’t yet ready to attend church because she was angry with God, she allowed him to come pick up Erica and take her to Sunday school.

As they talked about life after Eric, Marilyn said “you know, Reverend Nick.  I could never think about him without smiling.  Now, I can never think about him without crying.”  Reverend Nick said he knew she would find it impossible to believe but it would get easier with time.

Reverend Nick became a fixture in Marilyn and Ericas’ lives.  They often had dinner together and he was very attentive to Erica.  He was always willing to help with homework and taught her how to ride her very first “big girl” bicycle.
Marilyn was grateful for his gestures until he did something that was unpardonable.

They were sitting on the sofa one night and as Reverend Nick took Marilyns’ hand, he said “I love you.”  Being a man of God, he was supposed to love everybody so she thanked him but when he kissed her, she recoiled in disgust.

He apologized profusely but he had crossed a line.  She told him that he was never again welcome in her home.  She pushed him away as he tried to embrace her.
He said he thought she was being emotional and overreacting and had maybe misinterpreted his intentions.  Marilyn raised her voice when she asked him how she could misinterpret an unwelcome kiss.  She then told him that she never wanted to see or hear from him again.

Reverend Nick ignored her statement and continued to call but Marilyn refused to answer.  He left messages every day, begging her to forgive him but those messages were never returned and forgiveness was never granted.  He came by her house and knocked on the door but she ignored him.  He sent flowers but she threw them away.

When Erica noticed that Reverend Nick wasn’t coming around anymore, she asked if God had needed another angel. Marilyn told her that there were other people who Reverend Nick needed to help so he was spending time with them.

Reverend Nick left one last message, asking if it would be possible to come get Erica and take her to Sunday school. He knew how much she enjoyed going and so did Marilyn.  While he was once again, begging for forgiveness, Marilyn picked up the phone and tersely said “stay away from me and stay away from my daughter.”



The Silent Room – Chapter One

Eric and Marilyn were the perfect couple.  She was a raven haired beauty with ice blue eyes and a smile that could literally light up the room.  He was the traditional tall, dark and handsome.  He had black hair with sprinkles of silver that teased his temples.  Marilyn referred to his hazel eyes as “mood ring eyes” because of the way they changed color.  They had been described as “two beautiful people who belonged on top of a wedding cake.”

Marilyn was a doctor who specialized in emergency medical care and worked for a large, well-funded hospital. Eric was the CEO of a highly lucrative pharmaceutical company and a sometimes wannabe rock and roller.  Their professions had brought them together ten years earlier and as they say, the rest is history.

Although Eric was ten years Marilyns’ senior, they seemed to be soul mates in every sense of the word.  Two years after they married they had their only child, a daughter.  Marilyn named her Erica as an homage to her father.
Eric was a gentle, kind man who adored his wife and daughter.  Marilyn was clearly the center of his world and Erica was the light of his life.

When they were together, they were always hand in hand or arm in arm.  They seemed to want to always be touching each other.  Their friends used to say that if there had ever been two people who were made for each other, it was Eric and Marilyn.

Marilyn used to blot her lipstick onto a piece of paper and tuck it into Erics’ planner.  She would write on the paper, “where would you like for these lips to be?”
Eric was just as sensual.  When Erica had a sleep-over and he and Marilyn had a day off together, he would fix breakfast and serve it to her in bed, wearing nothing but a tie.

When Eric had one of his “gigs,” Marilyn was his loudest cheerleader.  After he finished playing, she would flirt with him and ask him to take her home, with the promise of doing things to him things that he would not soon forget.  She loved watching him play and seemed to be memorizing every line and curve of his face as he belted out the songs of Mick Jagger.

One large room in the basement of their house had been completely sound-proofed so that he and his fellow band members could practice without disturbing the neighborhood.
They weren’t a paid band but never passed up an opportunity to play at somebodys’ request.

When Eric suddenly started having nosebleeds, accompanied by flashes of light and sharp, stabbing pains in his head, he tried to hide it.  Marilyn suspected that something was wrong when he started snapping at her and Erica for no apparent reason, as that behavior was completely out of character for him.
After Marilyns’ consistent prodding, a much begrudged trip to the hospital revealed that Eric had a brain tumor.

Surgery was quickly performed and the prognosis was cautious optimism.  Marilyn knew what the odds of recurrence for that type of tumor were but she hoped that he was going to be one of the exceptions.

Two months had passed and Eric hadn’t yet returned to work nor had he returned to his music but he seemed to be recovering nicely.  Their anniversary was coming up and it had always been an anticipated celebration. Eric surprised Marilyn when he told her to get dressed because he was taking her dancing.  She asked him if he was sure he felt up to it.  He smiled and said “absolutely.”

He asked her to wear a certain red dress, which had always been one of his favorites.  They went to “their” place, the place where they had celebrated all of their anniversaries.  As they walked in, they could hear the band playing. Marilyn looked at Eric and wondered if he missed being able to play.

After they had a glass of wine, Eric took her hand and lifted her from her chair.  The dance floor cleared as they walked toward it.  Eric motioned to the band and Marilyn beamed as they started to play “Lady in Red.”
As they danced, they seemed to be lost in each others’ eyes.  Eric leaned over and whispered in her ear, “happy anniversary, darling.”  She smiled as she took his face in her hands and said “I want to thank you for giving me such a wonderful life.  Promise me that you’ll never leave me.” He hesitated for a moment and then said “I promise.”

Marilyns’ smile slowly faded as she watched blood trickle from Erics’ nose.



Facts About “The Find.”

Last night I got a call from one of my bloggy besties.  I knew what she was going to ask…”what were the four words?” The conversation ended with her calling me a “pain in the ass”…and not just once…but she did it with great affection. I won’t name names, but you know who you are, Deb.


My grandparents did not have ten acres of land but my oldest daughter and her husband do.  It is a “long” property and is divided by a barbed wire fence.  Behind the fence is called “the back five.”


The property that Loser will inherit as soon as Drunken Hines dies, is nestled in the mountains of South Carolina.  He always talked about building “our house” there after he retired.  I only visited the property twice.  He never bothered to tell me something about it until we were getting divorced.  That “something” was that the property has long been rumored to be “haunted.”
When I went the second and last time to help him cut up a log, he told me.  It was indeed eerie when I noticed that there were no birds flying around, no squirrels jumping from tree limbs and there were no mosquitoes.  That part of the story is true.


My grandparents’ house really was in the mountains of North Carolina.  The description of every single room in their house is accurate.  The description of the outhouse is accurate.  The reference to my pet lizard, regretfully, is true.


As soon as my mama paid off her house, she gave it to my oldest sister with the caveat that she could still live there. After years of neglect, the roof started leaking, the plumbing was clogged and some beams outside were rotting.  My sister called me and asked if I could help.  I told her that I could most likely fix everything that was wrong and for her to get the supplies and have her son take them to the house.  I told her I would drive up that weekend to get started.  She asked me who was going to pay for the supplies.  When I said “you,” she said she didn’t have any money.  I told her that I didn’t have any either.  She said “but (Loser) does.”  When I asked her if she really expected Loser to pay for the repairs of a house that she owned, she said “it would be for mama.”  Ummm….no.

After I refused, she decided to sell the house so I bought it.  Mama moved into a building that had been converted to apartments for old people on a fixed income.  From a window in her apartment, her house could be seen.  I have always hoped that she didn’t know.

The house had a basement that my daddy had literally dug with a shovel.  The washing machine and dryer were down there so one day while I was doing laundry, I decided to explore.  There was an area under the front porch that hadn’t been completely dug out.  I crawled on top of the dirt and found a shoe.  The more I dug, the more shoes I found.  I found twenty-eight shoes…all different styles and sizes.

The part of the story about a “shoe graveyard” under the house is true.


The “stone” has great meaning.  That meaning is and will forever be known only to me.


I will never reveal the four words.




The Find – Part Four

She was confused by the find and decided not to visit the back five the next day, nor the day after.  The stone and its meaning haunted her and she found herself writing the words down…over and over.  The words left her with an almost overwhelming sense of sorrow and they struck her through.  They were just words but they were the saddest words she had ever heard.
Somebody put that stone there.  Somebody wanted the words to be read.  Somebody wanted to be remembered…but some things are just lost to time and to history.

She never revisited the back five.

Ten years later, the state decided to build a highway to help ease congestion between two large cities and her land was right in the middle of the proposed site.  The state offered her a paltry sum for her property, which she ultimately accepted because she knew that if she didn’t, the law of eminent domain would just take it.
She was old and sick and didn’t have any fight left in her.

She moved into a building which had been converted into apartments for the elderly who were on a fixed income. She hated it and had few comforts but there was no other option.

She spent hours looking out the window of what she felt was her prison.  She could see her beloved mountains in the distance and often cried.  A few months after she moved in, she had to be hospitalized.
When asked about next of kin, she declined to give any names.  She had spent the last years of her life alone and thought it was just as well that she die alone.

The day they bulldozed Farthington to the ground, she died.  She was clutching a piece of paper in her hand, on which she had written the same four words that had been carved into the stone.  The nurse who read the words, wept.

Construction was progressing on schedule but when the workers reached the back five, the foreman was called to a particular spot.  When he arrived, the workers showed him a partially buried stone.  He wiped away the dirt and leaves and just stared for a minute.
He radioed his boss and said “we might have a problem here.”  The boss asked what kind of problem and the foreman said “I think we may have a cemetery.”

The boss came to the location and the foreman showed him the stone.  He said “I guess we had better get the GPR up here and see what we’ve got.”  After hours of imagining the ground, nothing was found so the go ahead was given to continue clearing the land.  The foreman asked the boss what he wanted him to do about the stone.  The boss said “we are under no legal obligation to do anything but I’ll leave that up to you.”

The foreman looked at the stone again and read the words.  He wondered who had put it there.  He wondered how long it had been there.  He bent down and traced the letters with his finger and gently patted the stone before he stood up.


Five years later, a father and his son were walking through the woods that flanked the newly constructed highway. They were on their first hunting trip together.  As they crouched down trying not to be seen by any deer, the son noticed the corner of what looked like a marble stone that was partially buried.


La Fin.