CLUB CANDY


Bob: So what happened?

Chet: Same thing that happens every year. She took all of it. She said she’ll give me one piece a day.

Bob: That fucking bitch. I’m sick of mothers trying to control us! Who do they think they are?

Chet: our mothers.

Bob: THAT’S NOT THE POINT!!

Chet: She said Shell give me one a day but she’ll just do what she does every year. She’ll throw it out.

Bob: Throw it out? Puh-leaze!! Mother Hood is fraught with corruption. We can’t let the “mothers” take away our Halloween candy every year. Maybe we could organize, get the kids together and follow our dream: PLANET CANDY. Tim is good with electric stuff he could build a rocket and Ryan is an asshole, and with all of the kids together we can over power our mothers and steal back our candy once and for all. Then we will board the mother fucking rocket and fly off to a distant galaxy and find an uninhabited planet where we can live uncucumbered. We’ll plant the candy in the soil and we will grow forests of candy and be free like the happy children we were meant to be! Free of the villainy of motherhood.

Chet: Your plan has some holes.

Bob: LIKE WHAT?

Chet: Um...never mind. Maybe we could just start a club or something.

Bob: and take the easy road? Sure! WHAT’S THE POINT OF THAT?

Chet: and what was that thing you said about Ryan, he’s an asshole what would that do to help us?

Bob: Oh nothing I hate him he’s an asshole I hate Ryan.

Chet: and I guess, I don’t think candy grows when you plant it.

BOB: God you’re so dumb! Cocoa comes from trees! Haven’t you ever heard of a cocoa leaves? What do leaves grow on asshole? You wanna tell me that? Holy shit you’re dumb!

Chet: trees, but...



Bob: And don’t start all that bullshit that candy is made in factories, its bullshit. You’re so naive. I’m so sick of being surrounded by stupid babies. Do you know how much it would cost to make thousands of little chocolate bars in a factory? Listen to yourself you sound ridiculous. A chocolate bar would cost like a million dollars! I know this kid who said he was in a forest once and he saw a giant snickers bar growing out of the ground! Its fertile earth you idiot.

Chet: I don’t know. Wait -hold on. My mom says I have to get off the phone.

Bob: look at you, powerless before her will. Pathetic. This is the new beginning we’ll take them wait– Ow, ow, I’m sorry mom. I’m sorry. Ow. Wahhhhhh.

Chet: Bob?

Bobs mother: Bob has to go to sleep. Who is this? Is this Ryan? I’m going to speak to your mother Ryan, and YOU are GOING to return Bobs action figures do you hear me? Do you hear me? And how dare you step on his lunch box. Do you think that’s nice? Is that what they teach you to do in your home? It is passed Roberts bedtime and he has to go to sleep you little hooligan. CLICK.

Chet: (hangs up phone). MOOOM.

Chets mom: yes dear?

Chet: Can I have a snickers bar?

Chets mom: Not before bed dear, I’ll put one in with your lunch tomorrow.

Chet: Okay mom. Mom?

Chets mom: Yes?

Chet: Does chocolate bars grow on trees?

Chets mom: What? Hahah hahaha HAHAHHA I’m sorry. HHHAHAHAH. Bwaa hHA HAHAHH HHAHHA oh god HAHAH HAHAHAHAH HAHAHAAHAHAHAH HHAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH. I’m sorry Chet. I’m sorry BWAAAAAAA HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. WAWAWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHA HAHAHHHHAHAHAHAHAH cough cough cough BWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAH cough cough cough cough cough. Cough cough cough. Ha ha ahhh ha. Haha. I’m sorry Chet. Hahaha haha. What ever gave you that idea? Ha ha ha. Oh dear lord im sweating ha-ha.

Chet: nothing.

Chets mom: okay honey now go to bed. (Turns out light)

(From the other room)

Chets dad: on trees? BWA ahaha hahah Haha are you kidding?

Chets mom: No he really asked me that!! Aha BWAAAA haha hahahaha.

Chets dad: HA HA HA HA OH stoppit he did not HAHAHAHAHA hahah. Oh my sides.

Chets mom: He did too, hahaha haha hA HAHA I can’t breathe. HAHAHAHA HAHAHAH.

Chets dad: Cough cough cough HAHAHAH hahahah AHHHH Oh god oh god HAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHA please stop it hurts HAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHA.

Chets mom: WHAHAhahahahahahaha haahahahahahahahaha. Cough cough cough.

Chets dad: ah ha ha..ha oh. God oh dear. That kid is dumb Rita. Ha-ha ha. That kid is freaking dumb.

Chets mom: You’re the one that dropped him asshole and stop eating all the kit kats.

THE END

DYING TO MEET YOU part 2

Do you know where we are?

I have no idea. Did I fall asleep?

You were asleep.

We were on the couch right?

Yeah in the living room, All the lights were on.

Its dark here, do you see anything?

Just black, are you close? Put out your hand, let me follow your voice.

Say something.

I’m here, I’m here Michael, my hand is out.

I found you I found you, oh my god.

Were you scared?

I thought maybe we were disembodied voices, that we weren’t really here.

Like spirits?

God, maybe were ghosts Margaret! What happened?

Nothing happened, we were just laying there.

What do you think it is?

Now? Where we are?

I don’t know, is it a room?

HELLO!!!

There was no echo.

Margaret don’t let go of my hand, please. Let’s start walking this way and see if we can find a wall.

Okay, don’t go to fast, the floor could be uneven.

I wont.

Do you hear foot steps? How can it be so quiet?

Oh Michael, I’m scared.

Don’t be scared.

What if we’re dead Michael, I think we died!

We can’t be dead if were still thinking. I’m thinking cant you feel your thoughts?

I’m thinking about cats, my mother’s cat is fuzzy and black.

I’m thinking about cartoons, Hanna Barbara Fred Flintstone and my favorite yellow socks on the window sill, in my bed room.

That means were alive doesn’t it?

It means we exist, some where.

Do you see anything?

I don’t think.

You?

No.

Maybe we should go in a different direction now?

No wait I see something, do you see it? Up ahead, it looks very far.

It looks like a light, Michael lets run, lets run! I want to get out of here.

Margaret no, please. Wait, Margaret wait.

Its there Michael its there, its really there, hurry we can go together.

Margaret wait for me Wait WAIT!!!

She was running now and she was way ahead, Michael was afraid of stumbling and falling into an abyss, Margaret was hypnotized by the light, she was afraid of being trapped inside.

As they grew closer they saw that it was an arched door way that opened out of the black ness into bright white light.

Margaret reached it first and cried out with Joy:

Michael, haha, there is a way out! Were free again! Were free!

Wait for me Don’t go out side don’t go out side!! Wait for me!!!

Despite his fear he began to run furiously, it was like the energy came from outside of himself, like he was summoning it.

His mind nearly burst when he saw her tender figure pass through the arched exit

“No Margaret no!

Moments later he too reached the arch and passed through it with out a pause, it led to a forest, a great clearing just before the trees, the ground was covered with snow and the air was icy and cold, his breath ran out before him in a cloud. He screamed:

MARGARET!!!

She was no where in sight.

A white wolf ran out of the trees at him and he leapt back, the opening from which he had exited was now gone and he pressed up against a heavy flat wall. The wolf looked him and shook his head.

God you people are dumb.

Micheal just looked at him, unblinking and staring.

What is wrong with all of you, don’t you see what this is? Your safe in there and it doesn’t matter they always come toppling out into the cold, you’re a bunch of damned fools.

Where’s Margaret?

Who’s that? Your better half? hahaha Maybe the woods opened up and swallowed her, maybe she hit the air and froze shattering into a billion pieces and exploded.

Did you kill her? What did you do to her?

Did I? What do you think I ate her? Yeah that’s a good one man. Here look at this.

The white wolf reaches its paw into a small leather pouch on its hip and pulls something out, it presses it with his paw against his nose.

Michael stands before the wolf incredulously.

The white wolf blinks at him and grins, a round red clown nose at the end of his face.

What you don’t think this is funny?

I just don’t understand.

Of course you don’t, you never do and you never will!

Where is she? Is she in another dimension?

The wolf shrugged:

Could be.

Are you sure you saw her come outside?

Yes I’m positive I distinctly remember.

Ok now were getting some where.

Am I trapped here?

No you’re not trapped, follow me.

The wolf led Michael through the woods. The tall trees stretched up into the sky as if they were endless, above there was a fog that hung over them like a ceiling that was slowly lowering down. There was an icy mist on the wind but Michaels white button down shirt was soaked with perspiration as he trudged through drifts of snow. All around them were white wolves weaving through the trees as though they were all on their own private mission.

Where are we going?

No questions just follow me, and don’t do anything stupid.

Micheal obeyed and tried desperately to keep up as the wolfs speed began to gradually increase. He tried to speak but he couldn’t get any air, and the faster the wolf got, the more frightened he became that he would be left behind again and lost forever. He felt it in his body like a switch; it was a distinct feeling like turning on a lamp, he felt like he was on fire, and his legs kicked out in front of him like he had no control any more, like a locomotive engine.

The wolf and he ran side by side though the woods, leaping over fallen trees and small frozen ponds and lakes, their momentum grew and grew until everything around them passed by in a blur, faster and faster until the wind stung their eyes and the force of their movement created a whirlwind that stirred everything in their wake, the ground rumbled, and the trees shook and bent beside them. If you saw them you would think there were moving in slow motion, their figures bent and blurred together a singular rampaging force. Up ahead was a cliff and they both leapt at the same time, the massive rush of wind that followed them pulled a dozen trees out of the ground and hurled them into the sky behind them. The pair lifted off the ground and drifted into the sky until they finally came to a complete stop in the middle of the cool night sky.

But…What now?

The wolf turned to face him, his clown nose in place.

We wait.

James JAJAC
1998

I sit and wonder. The mysteries of the earth and the dismal simplicities of life. Why do people live when death is so easy? Miserable and embarrassing. A dime rolls across the floor. People are too fat these days. Clearly evident to people on this side of the room. A dog is salty and does not know math. I presume that this will make him a lesser individual in the eyes of the intellectual. “hum bug” they say to me in quiet response (secretly I laugh). Nobody cares to see the world I have invented. The vortex in my palm. Red spirals mark my way. The door is eternally, externally closed and more specifically shut. Nobody loves the man who is I. I wait for the shallow under birth of my enemies. They wait with the hope of victory (and I secretly, with the same). A hopeless game that brings me more pleasure than I care to tell. Nobody does care for fellows such as myself. It is the cross that I bear. I do not act ashamed of such things. It is hardly my business to do so. My friend calls me on the telephone to tell me he’s forgotten my middle name, I remark to him “But I have never told you of it”, he calls me a hypocrite and a liar and tears up the bond that we have signed. Nobody is good to be known by me. My phone number is a painful reminder of the darkness that resides outside of your very doors. I always wonder mocking myself what it is that I do so wrong. Who is it that I harm so dearly? Everybody smiles at this question and I smile back (fearfully worrying that it is malicious laughter aimed at my self rather than a friendly musing). I tell myself to eat everything in the room and I shall grow big and fat and the world (all of them this time!) will admire me. Revere me! Worship me and promise to remember me for all of time remaining. I blush and smile at their declarations but secretly I build up and worship myself for fear that they only tell me stories. No one must know for our agreement is sacred, As is my ego (which I currently attempt to etch into stone). It is such a salty experience to deal in such matters. I shrug them off as leaves in the fall. I am a winter tree. Ever more. I wonder at clocks and batteries and where they find their strength. So much agility. I myself revere such talents and trail behind them at times when I am low. The world is my friend I have wasted my youth to know him. He tells me all his (it’s) secrets now and I laugh at the splendor of it all. The laughter always, regrettably, turns to weeping upon the approach of others, shattering my mighty façade that shows its weaknesses only (damned thing) in the presence of others. I try to hold it up to my face angered and red, embarrassed and stupid. Clutching, searching my brain for the right (the closest) anecdote to maintain composure, my ‘cool’ if you will permit me. It almost always ends in the disheartening of my soul. Unless that is if I am tired then it will roll under my eyes and fall asleep in the nest of my ears where it (mind you) can only sleep when my brain rests in the fog of its own slumber; a situation that suits me rather plainly. I raise no objections as well, as long as it suits me quite plainly which is (rather) where I like it to be. I can hold myself and my shoulders as high as my anatomy will permit me in such conditions which rarely does prove much to myself (or those around me), I always feel that (though it would be ridiculous to acknowledge) that they secretly beneath their own consciousness, that they mock me and ridicule me to their hearts content, which absolutely suits me just fine. A man of spite that I am such a claim does me no harm. I feel sad in the presence of others (“others”), I don’t feel that they respect me, which I do not require. I spin tall bottles on their tops to see them shatter when the sun sets, which they always do. A peculiar motion which fascinates me regardless of the date time or number of instances with which I have seen this marvel enacted. It’s a spice to the senses. I act slowly and compose myself as does a great musician, with care and passion.

I wear my favorite suits when no one is around to see me at my best. They could never understand what it takes to create such a character. The spools and the hours it dominates. I wonder who will it be that ends my sorry stance. That knocks me from that metaphorical plain of existence (be that as it may). I do not feel I have the worlds to wander I do not feel the freedoms of the birds. I do not have a splendor to carry me through over the roof tops away into freedom. I am in a place, a space that is closed and I feel that now more than ever. The dingy walls are closing in onto me, faster every day every year, every second, they hold my breath just a bit more. The hands on my throat.


I open balls of orange sunshine with toe nail clippers given to me as a child. for me to find (this is mine to create). The distance at times is too great. I’ve read a group of novels that explain the grand steps to take me there. I feel futility in my bounds. The world is bright green and yellow when I feel happiness exuding from within me. I cling to it with exasperated emotions. Rotten and cold. The colors fill me emphasizing the darkness surrounding me forcing me to smile. A smile that turns into a wince beneath the mighty weight (burden). I open boxes of balloons, bright red ones into the skies, I delight at the laughter it brings. I open them one after the other. Hundreds and hundreds, thousands and millions fill the sky. When night comes the red turns purple and to black and a gloom over takes my surroundings which I can no longer handle. A gloom I have had the misfortune to create (in an unfortunate state of mind). The moon is an open road when I call it. Destiny will fulfill the emptiness that clings to me. Bright in the darkness absent at day. I wish for it to come into my sight. It relieves the doubt of creation, of excavation. It splits into shapes that form patterns, complex patterns, in my mind. Diversions, that expel unnecesary demons. A deep spiral. It begins always and ends, only subsides. I watch it spin around me. Dark in every corner bright along the cobwebs of the ceiling. I always laugh when the world turns cold. Forced out of me when I least expect it. A smile (turns into a frown so quickly I don’t have the time to notice). The wind is always cold in the winter the sun is always hot in the summer. The obvious is always eternally taken for granted because we are never with out it. It is just that.

I don’t have the soul of a poet or the happiness of a new born child. My smile evokes sadness (and pity alike). I don’t have the beauty of a flower in blossom. I only know that (to me (forever) the cracks in the plaster and the ruins all around me always appear so much more interesting (from my hollow perspective) and so much more important than anything else when ever I’m left alone to laugh at nothing at all. “I whisper fairy tales to children (compulsively)” Because I’ve got nothing else to do. The world isn’t helpful to me unless it gives me an answer.

This is only an excuse.