Credits

These pieces are first drafts that will be added to my novel in progress, "Families," which is set in Olney in 1968. The main characters are Steven Winthorp, age 10, and his mother, Kate Muir. Other important characters are Steven's friends, Tony Marino, Nancy Edwards, Ted Schwartz, and Jack Doyle. His closest friends are Jimmy, Doug, and Jeanie Harper. Steven spends a great deal of time at the Harper's and Mr. and Mrs. Harper, Frank and Alice, are his second set of parents. Agnes McGill, is Kate and Steven's landlord and she lives in the apartment upstairs. Helen Loetz, a graduate student at Penn, is Agnes' niece and lives with her.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Vampires in Olney (from "Families")

      Jimmy, Doug, and Steven were in the basement lying on a braided rug, watching a vampire movie on a thirteen inch portable TV Mr. Harper had found at a second hand shop. A large bowl with unpopped kernels lying in a pool of butter and salt sat on the steps next to three empty glasses. They were finishing their Tasty Cakes. Jimmy was licking off the crumbs that stuck to the slick cardboard under his cupcakes. He and Doug had their heads propped on large, brightly colored pillows. Steven was flopped on a bean bag chair. The lights were out and they were watching “Dr. Shock.” Vampires were stalking lost travelers in a misty forest, jagged mountain peaks loomed over the tree tops. A pipe organ wailed.  

     “This movie is terrible,” said Jimmy.

     “It’s not too bad,” said Doug. “I like Peter Cushing.”

    “Which one is he,” asked Steven.

      “He’s the boss of the vampires,” said Doug. “He’s always the boss vampire.”

      “It’s so fake,” said Jimmy. “Those aren’t wolves. They’re just big hairy dogs. I think that big one is a man in a wolf suit.”

       “That’s what wolves are,” said Doug. 

        “Men in wolf suits?” said Stevie.

         “No, you moron. Big hairy dogs.”
   
         “No, they’re not,” said Jimmy. “They look different.”

          “How?” said Doug. “How different?”

          “I don’t know. Just different,” Jimmy insisted. “Like wolves.”

          “Wolvish,” said Steven.

         “What?” said Doug.

           “You know what would be cool,” said Steven. “Vampire dogs.”

           “What?” said Jimmy.

         “Vampire dogs,” repeated Steven. “They’d be black German Shepherds with a white chest and throat so it’d look like they were wearing tuxedos and they’d have capes sewed to thick leather collars with spikes in them. When they turned into vampires, their fangs would grow all pointy.”

         “Their fangs are already pointy,” said Doug. “Dogs’ fangs are pointy.”

          “They’d be really, really pointy,” said Steven. “Like needles.”

           “You should know about fangs, Doug, since the Robinson’s German Shepherd bit you on the ass last year,” said Jimmy. “I bet you still got the teeth marks on your butt.”

            “Oh my God!” said Steven. “That means Doug’s a vampire dog. Get a stake and a hammer! A blessed dog treat. Some holy water in a dog bowl.”

            “Ha, ha, very funny,” said Doug. “That dog should be chained up.”

            “Pillows work on vampire dogs,” said Jimmy and he hit Doug in his head with a pillow. Before Doug could move, Steven slammed the bean bag chair onto his stomach. Doug kicked Steven off of him and managed to get his pillow in his hands. Soon there was a free for all in the cold, blue light of the TV. The vampires attacked their unsuspecting victims, but the boys missed it. The boys managed to keep the grunts and laughter fairly quiet, but when Steven’s wild swing with the bean bag chair dismantled a TV tray, sending the tray slamming noisily into the half empty oil tank and the aluminum legs crashing into the octopus furnace, the boys knew they’d gone too far. 

           Heavy footsteps stomped across the living room floor above their heads. Doug and Jimmy were fumbling with the TV tray when the basement door opened and a triangle of light flashed onto the basement wall. Mr. Harper’s strangely tilted shadow blocked most of the light. “Bedtime. Now.” The deep voice echoed after the door was shut. No one even thought of asking if they could watch the end of the movie.
     
********

 The Harper’s boys’ room was perfectly set up for a sleepover. It was at the rear of the house, behind the bathroom. Jeanie’s room was on the other side of the bathroom, and Mr. and Mrs. Harper’s bedroom was in the front. Normally all three boys slept in the room, but Eamon was in Jeanie’s room for the night. Mrs. Harper was afraid that the boys might find a creative use for little Eamon, say, playing keep away with him as the ball. Bunk beds stood on both side walls. The older boys could choose the top or bottom bunk each night as they liked. In the center of the room, its headboard against the bathroom wall, was Eamon’s single bed. 

       Steven lay in the center bed. He was tired, but not ready to go to sleep. After all, the whole point of sleeping over was to get as little sleep as possible. Jimmy was on his left. He’d climbed onto the top bunk. On his right, Doug was on the bottom bunk. Two double hung windows were on the rear wall. Light from the security lamps on the construction company garage next door leaked around the edges of the curtains and sent four thin, bright streaks cutting across the room. One sliced neatly across Steven’s chest. It reminded him of “the Pit and the Pendulum.”

       The hands of a little alarm clock on the dresser between the windows glowed a faint 2:30. The boys had spent nearly two hours talking about nearly everything they could think of, but they kept returning to vampires. They speculated about the ending of the movie. They considered vampire dogs, vampire cats, vampire teachers, and vampire trains. At one time or another, each was accused of idiocy by the other two, and once Jimmy was alleged to be “incredibly, super stupid.” But now Doug and Jimmy had wound down. Doug might even be asleep. It was up to Steven to keep things going.

       “Have you guys ever noticed how that window looks like a vampire?” he said. Jimmy and Doug sat up and turned toward the small, stained glass window by the corner closet. The rich colors of the window were lit by the streetlight. “Those curvy purple things are like bat wings.” said Steven, doing all he could to help the other boys’ imagination through sleep deprivation and the power of persuasion. “The yellow parts in middle, near the bottom, are the legs. And the two red circles are...”

      “The eyes,” said Jimmy in a low hoarse whisper. 

     “Look at that thing!” said Doug. “It’s a vampire!”

     “The skinny, plain glass pieces are the fangs,” said Jimmy.

      “There’s three of them,” pointed out Steven.

     “I don’t care. They look like fangs,” insisted Jimmy.

     “That thing is right by my head,” said Doug. “I mean I can almost touch it.”

       “Which means that it...” said Steven.

      “Can touch you real easy,” interjected Jimmy.

       A pair of rolled up socks sliced through the streaks of light and deflected off of Steven’s head. “You jerk,” hissed Doug, sitting up in bed. “I’ll never get to sleep with that thing in here.”

   “Shut up, you baby,” said Jimmy.

     The springs on Doug’s bed began to creak and in the faint light Jimmy and Steven could see a mound of blankets wiggling around on Doug’s bed.

     “What are you doing ?” asked Steven.

     Doug’s muffled voice said something unintelligible. Steven repeated his question. The mound sagged as Doug’s head popped out at the other end of the bed. “I said, ‘I’m turning around,’” said Doug.

      Jimmy threw something that hit Doug in the chest. Doug threw it back, just missing Jimmy’s face. At the other end of the hall, a door squeaked open. The boys froze. Slippers scuffed sleepily down the floor toward the bedroom door. The boys scrambled to untangle their blankets and assume a sleeping position as quickly and quietly as possible. Steven heard a hand rest on the door handle a few feet from his head. Jimmy snored. Steven hoped he wouldn’t try it again, as it was a very fake snore.

      The door opened and Mrs. Harper entered. 3:15 glowed the clock hands. Jimmy snored again. Doug almost suppressed a nervous laugh. In a voice carefully modulated to avoid waking sleepers and to impress itself on those awake at this ungodly hour, Mrs. Harper whispered, “If you boys are pretending to be asleep, I hope you are really good at it, really, really good, because I had better not hear another sound from this room until morning.” Then she left. The boys lay perfectly still and in three minutes, they were all asleep.      


*********************

     Steven hid in the shadows of the thorn thickets that crowded the dirt track winding through the overgrown forest. In the darkness, the vampires were searching for him. He’d been running from them all night and more than once had only narrowly escaped. He lay in the clearing exhausted, his legs tangled in thorny vines. Somewhere behind him a cataract thundered over jagged rocks, cutting of his escape. Sheer cliffs rose on all sides. Shadowy forms closed in on him. A moonbeam sliced across his chest as he cowered, frozen in fear. Vampires took shape from the mist encircling him. The circle opened and Peter Cushing, menacingly elegant in his evening dress and cape, stepped forward and lowered his head until his rank breath filled Steven’s nostrils and his sibilant voice wormed its way into Steven’s ears. In a voice laden with the rhythms of the Carpathian mountains, the vampire sang, “Found a peanut, found a peanut, found a peanut just now. Just now I found a peanut, found a peanut just now.”

     Steven stared astounded at the vampires as they joined in song.  He noticed that they were wearing green felt berets and sashes filled with neat rows of round badges. “Cracked it open, cracked it open, cracked it open just now. Just now I cracked it open, cracked it open, just now.” As they sang, the vampires danced around him in solemn display. The waterfall roared louder and he heard the sounds of something splashing in the pool beneath the falls. Suddenly the flow of water stopped and he could clearly hear the thing in the pool sing, “It was rotten, it was rotten just now. Just now it was rotten, it was rotten, just now.”

       Peter Cushing raised his head and turned in the direction of the hidden pool. He smiled slightly, seemingly pleased to be joined by a fellow creature of the night. He raised his sleek head and answered, “Ate it anyway, ate it anyway, ate it anyway just now. Just now I ate it anyway, ate it anyway just now.”

      A pounding noise began just above Steven’s head. He looked about, but could not see what was making the sound. The vampires adopted the mournful beat. “Called a doctor (boom), called a doctor (boom), Called a doctor (boom), just now (boom). Just now (boom), I called a doctor (boom), called a doctor just now (boom).”

      Steven struggled to sit up, flailing about to free his pinned legs. The forest and the vampires were gone. He was in a narrow bed in a bedroom he didn’t recognize. The singing and banging continued. “Operation (boom), operation (boom), operation (boom). Operation (boom), just now. Just now (boom), I had an operation (boom), an operation (boom) just now (boom).”

        Steven’s brain caught up with his senses and he realized he was in Jimmy and Doug’s bedroom. The boys were still asleep. Doug had unrolled a pair of socks Jimmy had thrown at him and had wrapped them around around his neck. Jimmy was lying on his side and had pulled the blankets over his head. All that was visible was his nose and mouth. Steven cautiously rolled over so that he could he could see the vampire window. No light passed through it. The colored glass was muddy and the figure indistinct, but Steven knew the vampire lurked in there somewhere. “Died anyway (boom), died anyway (boom), died anyway (boom) just now. Just now (boom), I died anyway (boom), died anyway (boom) just now.” Where was that singing coming from, wondered Steven?

       Jimmy and Doug began to stir. Soon the three were sitting up in their beds trying to wake up completely so they could locate the source of the singing and pounding that had disturbed their sleep. “Went to Heaven (boom), went to Heaven (boom), went to Heaven just now (boom). Just now, I went to Heaven (boom), went to Heaven just now (boom).” The three boys were staring at the wall above Steven’s head. The wall shared with the bathroom.

    “Jeanie, shut up, you moron!” yelled Jimmy. 

     “Idiot!” added Doug. He walked over to Steven’s bed and pounded on the wall. Jimmy climbed down from his bunk and kicked the bathroom door. Steven could hear Jeanie laughing. 

     “You boys get dressed and come eat breakfast. It’s after nine o’clock,” called Mrs. Zink from the bottom of the stairs. “Leave your sister alone and get down here.”


     Doug and Jimmy gave the wall and door a final thump, then began to get dressed. Steven decided he would go home for breakfast. He’d come back when the boys were done with their chores. Jeanie quickly snuck out of the bathroom while the boys were dressing and disappeared. When she came home for lunch, she found her stuffed animals and dolls tossed around her room. Eamon was in the corner playing with his G.I. Joe. Jeanie asked him what happened, but he just repeated, “I didn’t see nothing,” like his big brothers had told him to do.

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Baseball Cards from Heaven

Helen, Kate (Steven’s mother), and Steven (10 years old) are walking down Tabor on their way home from something or other. It’s a little after 9, late June 1968, not yet dark. 

     Helen was animatedly telling a story that had Kate laughing so hard she doubled up and had to stop walking. The story was about something that happened to Helen in High School, and Steven had lost interest. He was running a little way ahead, chasing the first fireflies of the summer, when a speeding car jerked to the curb and slammed to a stop. The smell of bubble gum crept over Steven, as three men in their late teens hopped out of the car. The men were laughing wilding, shoving and punching each other.

      “We showed that asshole, din’t we,” bellowed the tallest one.

       “He’s lucky we din’t lay him out,” roared a smaller, thick set man. “Him riding us like that all the time.”

       “That piece of shit think’s he’s God and that working on the line at Fleer’s is the best job ever,” said the third.

    “Yeah, well,” said the first guy. “He’s gonna have to work the damn line himself with us three quit.”

      Steven eased back toward Helen and Kate who stepped on either side of him and eyed the three men suspiciously. The men saw the women and stopped, the first one’s hand pulling the door of the Tabor Lounge half open. Music and loud voices spilled out of the bar. A sour beer smell mixed with the bubble gum aroma.  

    “You ladies like a drink?” asked the quietest of the three men. “The party’s on us.” 

    “Thanks anyway, boys,” said Kate. “We’re on our way home.”

      The thick set man stepped forward blocking the sidewalk. “Oh come on,” he said. “It’s early. A beer or two won’t kill you.”

     Helen stepped forward, her face clouded with anger. 

     Before she or the thick set man could speak, the other two men grabbed the man’s shoulders and shoved him into the bar.

     “He don’t mean nothing,” said the tall man, raising his palms toward Helen and stepping back to give her room. “We all just quit a really lousy job and we’re a little worked up. No harm done, right?”
Helen nodded agreement slowly, but was still angry. Kate and Steven had joined her and the three started to walk away.

    “Wait a minute,” cried the third man. They turned to see him reaching into the backseat of the car. He pulled out a large, flat rectangle of cardboard, about two by three feet. In the dim light, Steven could see that something was printed on the cardboard, but he could make out the details.

    The man walked up to Steven and held the sheets toward him. “You collect baseball cards?” he asked.

    Steven nodded. 

    “Here you go,” the man said, and he pressed the cardboard into Steven’s hands.

    Steven tilted the cardboard toward the light of the Schaefer’s and Ballantine signs that hung in the bar’s window. He was stunned. Orange and blue neon light  played over uncut sheets of Fleer’s baseball cards. He stared at the two men who were smiling back at him, not so far removed from being ten-years-old boys that they couldn’t recognize the amazement Steven was feeling.

    “Thank you,” said Steven in a hushed voice, his eyes fixed on the sheets.

     “Enjoy them, kid,” said the tall man, turning to enter the bar.  He looked at Kate and said with a shrug, “They fell into our car when we quit that dump.”

      Kate put her arm around Steven and led him away toward home. Helen stayed for a moment, considering the two men who returned her frank look. “Watch out for your friend tonight,” she said. “He’s really wound up.”


     “We always do,” said quiet man. “Somebody has to.”

A Trip to the Universal Bookstore

This is a rough draft of a trip to the Universal Bookstore. It will probably go into Chapter 7. The Characters are:

Agnes: owner of apartments.
Helen: her niece, in her early twenties, starting Grad school at Penn
Kate: lives in apartment below Agnes and is very close to her,
Steven: Kate's 10 year old son, starting 5th grade at Morrison Elementary in the fall.
Tony: Friend of Steven

Summer, 1968


“Anybody want to go the bookstore?” called Helen through the open door of Kate’s apartment.

“We’re busy with the slipcovers,” said Kate from the bedroom where she and Agnes had laid the fabric on the bed and were marking the pattern.

“Can I go?” asked Steven. He’d bought a few books on the Civil War at the Universal Bookstore on Fifth Street. He loved to wander through the narrow aisles and let his eyes play across the books until something caught his eye. 

“If it’s ok with your Mom,” said Helen.

“Go already,” said Kate. “He’s been wandering around looking for something to do, driving us crazy.”
Agnes called Steven into the bedroom and gave him a ten dollar bill. “Buy us a pizza for dinner,” she said, “and if there’s enough change, buy yourself a book.”

“What book are you going to get?” asked Steven, as they turned the corner past the Library and crossed Fifth. 

“I ordered two books from Germany. One is about Nineteenth century German women who came to America. The other is a history of the part of Germany my family comes from.”

Helen walked inside, but Steven stopped to scan the windows displays on either side of the door. There were neatly arranged stacks of “Airport,” “Testimony of Two Men,” and “Topaz” in one window. The other held smaller stacks of  “Couples,” “Myra Breckenridge,” “The Confessions of Nat Turner,” and “Tunc.” The brightly colored covers drew him back to the “Airport” display.

“That’s trash,” said a brusque, Germanic voice. “That window is for the trash I have to sell to keep food on my table. Come inside, Stefan, I remember you. The Civil War boy. Maybe I have something new for you.”

Steven was startled to be recognized and remembered. He blurted out, “I’m with Helen. She’s inside. I’m not doing anything.”

“It’s alright, boy, calm down. You’re fine. Let’s go inside. My coffee is getting cold.”

Steven opened the door and tripped the small brass bells that notified the owners whenever anyone entered or exited. Mr. Richter followed him into his shop.

“There he is,” said a heavy set woman with cat’s eye glasses and a pencil piercing her lopsided bun constructed from her long, thick, graying hair. “He went next door to the deli to get coffee an half hour ago, and he’s finally returned.” With this, she turned and retreated through a narrow door in the rear of the shop.

“I talk to people,” Mr. Richter said with a shrug. He took both of Helen’s hands in his. “My new friend. It is so nice to meet such an intelligent and beautiful young lady who is wise enough to read German books.”

Helen laughed, and thanked him for the speedy delivery.

“It wasn’t me,” he said, “I mailed the orders to the publisher's New York offices and the books were shipped from Germany. You should thank the Post Office.”

Steven had a difficult time following the conversation. Mr. Richter’s English was heavily accented. He and Helen also slipped into German occasionally. At one point, Steven noticed that he was standing near the nudist magazines. He quickly stepped away from the rack so that Helen wouldn’t think he was looking at them. The only other place he’d seen nudist magazines out the open was at the German butcher shop near the train station on Tabor. He wondered sometimes if Germans were all Nazi’s or nudists.

The conversation between Helen and Mr Richter had grown more intense and was now completely in German. Steven heard names and places he recognized, Nixon, Bobby Kennedy, Johnson, Viet Nam, Russia, and he began to wonder about things he’d heard about the Richters. Tony had said that they were Russian spies from East Germany. Steven had asked him why Russian spies would be in Olney.

“There’s lots of Germans in Olney to help them,” said Tony.

“Help them do what?” replied Steven.

“Be spies,” insisted Tony. “You know, like, kill important people. Like Kennedy was killed.”

“Spies didn’t kill Kennedy,” said Steven.

“My Uncle says Russian spies killed him,” said Tony, belligerently. 

“Steven, wake up. Mr. Richter is talking to you,” said Helen, rapping him on his skull with two fingers.”

Mr. Richter handed a book to Steven. It was about Sherman’s March to Sea. “Read this, and you will never think that war is glorious. It’s for adults, but you can make sense of it if Kate here helps you now and again.”


The book cost $1.75. Steven hesitated. He wasn’t sure he’d have enough left over to buy the pizza. Helen handed Mr. Richter two dollars and said, “My treat. Now let’s get the pizza, I’m hungry.”