Healing through story

Category: books (Page 7 of 26)

shortfiction24 – and they were gone

Vinny and Lewis’s spirits are entangled due to a mixup at the crematorium, Tangled, and trapped in Vinny’s backyard, they can’t move on to the spirit world till Lewis finds the rest of his ashes. Along comes Fanny to help.

This is the third and final story in a three-part series. The early parts ran in May and November of 2022. You can find the original stories here:

Story 1: My Dance Space

Story 2: Not Ready For Us Yet

And They Were Gone

Bob Gillen

“So what’s your story?”

Fanny’s spirit hovered in front of Vinny and Lewis’s spirits. Fanny had just been freed after thirty years trapped in the roots of a bottlebrush tree in Vinny’s backyard. A lightning strike had seared the tree to its roots, burning off the wrappings on Fanny’s body. 

“We can’t move on. Our spirits are tangled together. A mistake at the crematorium. Some of Lewis’ ashes got mingled with mine,” Vinny said. “Lewis needs to find his other ashes. Then we’ll both be free.”

“Tough one,” Fanny said. “But now I’m free. I can move on.”

She swirled around the yard. “Feels wonderful.”

Vinny peered around his yard. His wife Margie had buried his ashes at the foot of the tree. The other day she set out a few Halloween decorations in anticipation of the upcoming holiday. The lightning strike destroyed the fake skeleton Margie had hung in the tree. It now lay twisteed and charred beneath the tree.

“We’re doomed,” Lewis said. “We haven’t got the strength to leave the yard.”

Fanny  moved close, grinned. “Sorry, boys. Time for me to move on.” And she was gone.

“Shit,” Vinny said.

Moments later Fanny returned.

“I got the nod. They can wait for me while I help you guys.”

Vinny shrugged. Lewis managed a weak smile.

“So?”

“I can move around pretty freely. Lewis, where are your other ashes likely to be? Where did you live?”

“About a mile from here…a few streets over from the Interstate.”

“Address?”

Lewis told her.

“Wait for me.” And she was gone again.

Dusk was turning to dark when Fanny finally returned.

“We gotta get moving.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain on the way.”

“We can’t leave the yard, remember?”

“You can do limited movement if you’re with me. Stay close.”

Lewis beamed. “We can go?”

Fanny nodded. “Let’s move.”

Vinny hesitated. “I won’t be coming back, will I?”

“Nope.”

“Bye, Margie. Catch you in the next life.” He blew a kiss towards the house.

Fanny turned to leave.

Vinny’s eye caught the charred skeleton. “Hold up.”

He floated over and raised up the skeleton. “Might as well have some fun on the way out.”

The three spirits moved off, Vinny hauling the skeleton.

Darkness was falling now. Vinny and the other two floated across front yards as they headed out. Vinny kept an eye out for children. No need to scare them with a floating skeleton.

Four doors down the street Vinny stopped in front of Mr. Cruikshank’s door. The neighborhood crank. Every neighborhood had one. He used the skeleton to ring the doorbell. When Cruikshank opened the door, Vinny shook the skeleton violently, dropped it to the floor. As he floated away, he heard Cruikshank screaming.

“So worth it,” he said.

After a time they came to rest in front of Lewis’ former home. His mother’s house.

“Here’s the issue,” Fanny said. “I heard your mother talking on the phone. She plans to take the boat over to Catalina Island tomorrow morning. She’ll spread your ashes at sea.”

“Shoot. Can’t we stop her?”

“Best chance is to get at the ashes before she leaves.”

“Where are they? I’m not feeling anything.”

“In the trunk of her car. She’s already packed and ready to go first thing in the morning.”

“So how do we do this?” Vinny asked. “How about we jiggle the doors and shake the car…set off the alarm? That will draw her out to the driveway.”

“My mother never locks anything.”

“Let’s try.”

Nothing.

“Now what?”

“Duh. Why don’t I release the trunk lock?” Fanny swirled into the car. The trunk lid opened halfway.

Immediately Lewis disentangled from Vinny, swirled into the trunk. “Bye.” And Lewis was gone.

Vinny felt light, ecstatic. “I’m free. As Lewis would have said, I got my dance space back.”

“You can thank me later.” Fanny drifted next to him. “Ready?”

“So ready.”

And they were gone. Off to the spirit world.

***

shortfiction24 – we gotta go, lady

Rosa Merced is riding home on the subway on a frigid January night after another twelve hour day at the office. She did not expect to come face to face with a dying man.

This story was inspired by a newspaper article I read years back in NYC. Don’t recall if it was legit news or a tabloid version. Enjoy!

We Gotta Go, Lady

Bob Gillen

Rosa Merced stomped her feet on the floor in a futile effort to warm them. The air in the near-empty subway car had to be ten degrees colder than the winter air up on the street. She pulled her wool beanie further down on her head and snugged the scarf on her neck.

Two more stops and home. Rosa pictured herself wrapped in an electric blanket, with a cup of hot tea and the chocolate chip cookie she had wrapped in a napkin in her purse, a leftover from her department’s catered lunch. That seemed like an eternity ago. Twelve hour days were getting too common.

The train doors were closing as a transit cop stepped in from the platform. He stood eyeing each passenger in the car. Satisfied, he moved to the door at the end of the car. The train began to move into the tunnel. Rosa closed her eyes for a moment, wishing for her warm blanket. Just as her car rolled into the blackness of the tunnel, the train squealed to a halt.

Shit, what now? Come on guys, I need to be home.

The lights in the car flickered, went dark. Rosa could hear the transit cop talking into his intercom. “Okay. Okay, yeah.” She turned to stare out the window. Darkness. She sat in the frigid blackness for what felt like hours.

She spotted beams from flashlights bobbing around in the tunnel. 

The conductor’s voice came over the train’s PA system, so garbled all she heard was, “…delay…as soon as possible…”

The transit cop exited the car and walked towards the rear of the train. Rosa heard voices, muffled, anxious, coming from outside along the tracks. An emergency floodlight powered on, lit the tunnel. Several firefighters stood nearby. An EMT approached the side of her train holding up a blanket.

Rosa startled as she followed the EMT’s path. She was face to face with a man. A man standing up against the side of the train. He had a filthy beanie pulled down over long gray hair. An unkempt gray beard trailed down from his chin. The man’s face was lower than Rosa’s. She guessed he was standing on the wooden guard that ran across the top of the powered third rail. 

The EMT draped the blanket over the man’s body, covering him from the shoulders down. Rosa realized the man was wedged between the side of the subway car and a steel support column alongside the track.

The man looked up. His eyes locked on Rosa’s.

The transit cop reappeared, his flashlight poking the darkness. “We need you all to walk though to the rear of the train and exit at the last station.” Without waiting for a reply he moved on to the next car. The few passengers began to shuffle toward the door.

Rosa stared at the man in the tunnel. His eyes pleaded for help. Firefighters fussed around him but he took no note. He continued to look to Rosa. She met his eyes, willing herself to hold his gaze. It was a look she knew well. Her dear aunt had lay dying, unable to speak, her eyes saying, ‘Don’t leave me. I’m not ready to go yet.’

The transit cop came back, waving his flashlight beam in her direction. “Lady, you have to exit the car. We need to move the train.”

Rosa said, “Give me a minute.” The cop looked out the window, saw the trapped man, nodded, stepped away.

Rosa pulled off one glove, fumbled to open her purse. She found the chocolate chip cookie. She stood. A blast of frigid air hit her face as she opened the train window. An almost overwhelming smell of urine wafted in. She knelt on the train seat and handed the cookie out the window. She realized the man’s arms were pinned. She reached down to hold the cookie to his mouth. He took a bite, chewed, swallowed. A thin smile creased his face. A face crisscrossed with lines and crevices of pain. Rosa offered him a second bite. His eyes lit with joy. A tear rolled down his cheek, froze before it reached his chin.

“We gotta go, lady.” The transit cop spoke quietly from behind her.

Rosa pulled her arm back inside the car. She held the man’s gaze for a few seconds longer. 

Oh God, I shouldn’t do this. Rosa smiled at the man, took a bite of the cookie herself. He nodded. She stood, placed her palm against the cold glass for a moment, and backed away from the window. The cop directed her to the rear of the train.

When she reached the station platform, the doors closed. The train inched forward. Rosa stood watching it crawl into the tunnel. Shouts of firefighters and EMTs filled the space as the train moved further into the tunnel. Somewhere in that tunnel a man was dying. She heard a single scream echo through the tunnel and the station.

Rosa tossed the bitten cookie down on the tracks. “For your journey, my friend. Vaya con Dios.” She turned towards the exit.

***

shortfiction24 – Ashley plans for her transition

Searching for a college is a daunting task for Ashley. A poor GPA and an upcoming gender transition narrow her choices dramatically.

College night at her high school is a bleak experience until she meets an unlikely possibility.

Ashley Plans For Her Transition

Bob Gillen

Megan pulled her Prius into a spot in the school’s lot.

“College night, Ashley. Seniors rule.” She killed the engine.

“Let’s wait a minute.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“I’m nervous.”

“No worries, Ashley.”

“Easy for you to say. You got your pick of almost any college in the US, with your GPA. Me, I could double my GPA and not come close.”

“Remember what our counselor said. There’s a school for everyone.”

Ashley shrugged. “I have to limit my search to schools in fifteen states, the fifteen that are LGBTQ-accommodating.”

Megan punched Ashley on the arm, slid out of the car. “Come on. Let’s find our schools.”

Inside Ashley followed Megan to the Duke table. Out of her league. Ashley left Megan there and walked the aisles. She found herself getting discouraged quickly. A number of the smaller colleges were in states Ashley would avoid.

Ashley wandered to the rear of the room. Her classmates crowded the UC system table. At the end of the row, Ashley spied a table with a banner that read: Vancouver. Discover Canada. The rep behind the table was reading what looked like a well-worn paperback copy of Kerouac’s On the Road. She looked up as Ashley approached the table.

“Hi. Can I help you?”

The rep had black curly hair to her shoulders. She wore a simple black dress, a necklace with a turtle hanging down.

“If you take students with a 2.6 GPA.” Ashley managed a weak smile.

The rep wobbled her head for a moment. “That might be doable. Talk to me. What are you interested in?”

“Wildlife conservation.”

The rep nodded. “My name is Jennifer. You are?”

“Ashley. Hi. Glad to meet you.”

“I represent three different colleges in Vancouver.”

“I didn’t know we had Canadian options.”

“We welcome international students…and yes, America is considered international for us.”

Ashley fingered her list. 

“I see you prepared for tonight. Mind if I see your list?”

Ashley handed Jennifer the list. 

Jennifer glanced at the items on the list. She nodded.

“I know this list. States favorable to LGBTQ, right?”

Ashley felt her face redden. She nodded.

“You can add Vancouver to your list.”

“Oh.”

Jennifer glanced around. “You know what, I think it’s snack time. Will you watch my table for a moment while I get coffee?”

“Sure”

“What can I get you?”

“Coffee…black. Maybe a brownie bite?”

“Done. Be right back.”

Ashley looked around the room. There was a soundtrack of dozens of voices, all animated, excited. A big moment for many of the seniors. Searching for their leap into the future.

Jennifer returned, juggling two drinks and a plate of snacks. She grabbed an empty chair and set it beside her. “Come. Sit with me. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Ashley slid behind the table, grabbed a snack.

Jennifer sipped her drink. “Let me start by saying the colleges I represent tonight do not offer much, if anything, in wildlife conservation. Can I ask what appeals to you about that career?”

Ashley shrugged. “I’ve always liked animals. I don’t have the grades to go for a veterinarian degree.”

Jennifer peered at Ashley. “What really appeals to you about wildlife conservation?”

Ashley sipped her coffee. She looked directly at Jennifer. “It looks like a quiet way to make a living.”

“Quiet how?”

Ashley took a breath. “Away from a lot of harassment.”

Jennifer smiled. 

Ashley found herself spilling to someone she just met.

“I’m trans. My parents are giving me a breast reduction surgery as a graduation gift. Once I get out of here I’ll change my name to Asher. And I need a school in an LGBTQ-accommodating state.”

Jennifer smiled. “I’m trans too. Made my transition five years ago.”

Ashley stared open-mouthed. “Wow. you fooled me.”

“Yeah, the docs did a good job.”

Ashley brought the conversation back to its purpose. “Your schools don’t have a wildlife conservation program.”

“We don’t. The bigger schools in Vancouver do, but honestly, I don’t think they would look at you with your GPA.”

Ashley nodded.

“Let me ask you this. Would you consider a different major if it suited your lifestyle?”

“Like what?”

“Film and television, for example.”

Ashley frowned. “Never thought of it, but the work involves lots of people, right?”

“If you mean, a lot of people collaborating on projects, yes.”

“I don’t know…”

“One of the schools I represent is Columbia College. It has a strong media program. Film, television. Good internships. Are you aware they are calling Vancouver Hollywood North?”

Ashley shook her head.

“Tons of film and television production going on. Plenty of jobs and internships.”

“I don’t know…”

“You certainly don’t have to decide tonight.”

Ashley picked up her list from the table.

“Before you go… have you considered a gap year?”

Ashley squinted. “How would I do that?”

“If I am getting too personal here, stop me. You said you’ll have surgery as soon as you graduate.”

“Right.”

Just then two classmates stopped at the table. One said, “Ashley, are you already a college admissions rep?”

“I’m repping for our high schools. You two morons want to repeat senior year? Lots of perks.”

The two laughed and moved on.

Jennifer continued, “With a gap year you can manage your transition more effectively. Take the summer to recover, and start your transition. Columbia College will admit you as a delayed admission. You may have access to student housing. I would have to look into that. I should add, Vancouver is an expensive city to live in. Rent and housing are among the highest in Canada.” 

She sipped her coffee. “With your admission and initial leave of absence, you can get an entry level job in film right away. I told you, Vancouver is quite LGBTQ-friendly. You can explore the city, find groups that will support your transition. And with the job you will have insurance. That may pay for at least some of your hormone therapy.”

“This is too amazing to be true.”

“All true. After a year you can decide if you want to continue with Columbia. You will be admitted as a full-time international student.”

Ashley said, “That’s a lot to think about.”

Jennifer handed Ashley a business card. “My phone is here. Call or text anytime.”

Back out in the parking lot Ashley met up with Megan. “Duke, here I come,” Megan said. I can get early admission if I want.”

“Sweet.”

“How did you do?”

Ashley pulled her list from her pocket, ripped it in shreds.

“Fuck the US. I can go to Canada. Take a gap year and work in film and television while I manage my transition, then attend Columbia College. As an international student.”

Megan stared at Ashley for a moment. Broke into a grin. Hugged Ashley hard.

“Friends forever.”

Ashley’s phone chirped. A message from Jennifer. So happy to meet you tonight. Call if you need more info or just want to talk.

Ashley texted back. Thanks! I’ll be in touch soon. I already feel safe about my future.

Jennifer replied. Safer, yes. But safety will remain elusive. We are always vulnerable.

***

shortfiction24 – why I write

Why I Write

This week my short stories yield to a few personal comments on writing. I have several stories in the works, all of which need endings. Coming soon. Today I attempt to answer the question: why do I write? I don’t have a single answer for that. It has varied over time. Varied as I transitioned from non-fiction to fiction. 

Presently a Hemingway quote moves me: “Write hard and clear about what hurts.”

And there is so much hurt. Some personal, some physical/medical, some PTSD from COVID lockdowns, much of it political and global. So much beyond my control. Writing short stories is my way of dealing with the hurt. My hurt. The hurt that so many others bear.

Only last night I discovered an interview with writer Percival Everett. I had never heard of him before. He talked about why he writes. He is not an outliner. He carries it in his head, creating what he calls a kind of map. Ironically, a map is, for him, an excuse to get lost. “It gives you a certain kind of security that allows you to wander into a place you don’t know.”

I can relate to that. I rarely outline. When I am carrying a short story in my head, I don’t know where it will take me. Often into a place I don’t know. It might be an unexpected, even quirky ending. It could be a character whose traits I initially knew nothing about. And it is both fun and a challenge to go to these unknown places.

My Readers

Everett goes on to talk about who his readers are. “When people ask me who’s my audience, I can’t imagine one, since everybody’s different. So my audience has to be myself. I write for myself, knowing that at any given time I’m not the same person that this was created for. The writer who made it is gone and no longer exists. So what it meant to that writer is gone too. The only meaning that’s left is to be made by whoever is reading it at that moment.”

I can appreciate that comment. Writing coaches so often advise authors to identify their ideal readers, even if it is a narrow base. I have always found that difficult. Yes, I know who some of my readers are. I have no clue who most of them are. (Always assuming I actually have readers!) 

I do write for myself. And yes, I come back to my drafts, my stories, as a different person each time I read the item. I can only assume my readers come to them differently as well. 

Why do I write? To go to unknown places. Places that may alleviate the hurt.

shortfiction24 – my shoe is on the roof

This week I reach deep into my own archives for a fun story about a girl who loses her shoe just before she is up for a class presentation. Enjoy the story.

By now I am coming up on just short of 90 free stories I have posted to the blog over the last three years. My motto is, I show up. I hope some of the stories have brought a smile, a memory, a few moments of escape to your lives. Thanks for reading.

My Shoe is on the Roof

Bob Gillen

When the bell ending lunch period rang, Becky Brockway and Maria Ruiz broke off from their soccer game. They took places at the very end of the class line.

“I wish the afternoon was over already,” Becky said. “I dread reading my Social Studies report to the class.”

Just then, Mrs. Spaulding, pointing across the yard, called out, “Who left a sweatshirt out on the field?”

Becky said, “Oops, that’s mine.”

“Go and get it,” Mrs. Spaulding said. “Hurry back and meet us in class. And take Maria with you.”

Becky and Maria raced across the yard while the class filed inside.

After Becky picked up her sweatshirt, she lagged behind Maria on the way back to class. She tied the arms of the sweatshirt together to shape it into a rough ball shape. She then kicked it all the way back to the one-story class building at the other side of the schoolyard.

“Come on, Becky,” Maria said. “We’ll be late.”

“That’s okay with me.” Not able to resist one last kick, she swung her leg hard. 

Something felt wrong. The sweatshirt lay in the grass a few feet further ahead.

Her right foot felt weird. She looked up to see her shoe flying through the air. It landed on the school roof.

Maria was already in the doorway. “Come on,” she called out.

Becky stood staring at the roof. She looked down at her foot. Then back up at the roof. A knot began to form in the pit of her stomach. She felt the blood rush out of her face.

Maria stepped back out from the doorway. She looked up at where Becky was staring. Then she looked down at the shoeless right foot. She laughed. Hard.

“What did you do?”

Becky pointed at the roof. “I lost my shoe.”

“Nice move,” Maria said. She was still laughing. “You can say goodbye to that good Social Studies grade.”

“Oh no!” Becky shouted. “My report! How am I going to read in front of the class? I’m doomed.”

Just then, Jason Arnold stuck his head out the door. “Mrs. Spaulding is waiting for you… She won’t start the class without you.”

“I can’t do this,” Becky said to Maria. “I can’t go back to class.”

“We have to go in. Come on. You can cover the missing shoe.”

“No. I know… I’ll go to the office and say I’m sick.”

“How are you going to get through the office without a shoe?” Maria asked.

“I’m ruined,” Becky moaned. “I have an F before I read the first word of my report.”

“Try my shoe on,” Maria suggested as she slipped one off.

Becky struggled to get the shoe on her foot. Even when she realized it was too small, she kept pulling. 

“Alright, alright!” Maria said. “Don’t ruin it. It isn’t your size.”

“What am I going to do? I’ll be so embarrassed in front of the class. Everyone will laugh at me.”

“Walk behind me,” Maria said. “Just get to your seat. You’ll figure something out.”

By now they were at the classroom door. Maria opened it slowly. Becky followed her in so closely she stepped on Maria’s heel twice.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Mrs. Spaulding said.

Becky slid into her seat. “Sorry.”

“We’re ready now to begin the reports.”

Slumping down in her seat, Becky thought, I’m dead. There’s no way I can do this

“Jason, please read your report,” Mrs. Spaulding said.

Oh great, Becky thought. Alphabetical order. I’m next.

When Jason finished his report, Mrs. Spaulding left her desk and walked to the rear of the classroom. “That was excellent, Jason. Becky, would you step forward to read yours?”

Becky hobbled to the front of the room. She stood with her right foot on tiptoe.

From his seat in the front row, Jason noticed that Becky’s shoe was missing. Turning to make sure Mrs. Spaulding wasn’t looking his way, he stretched out his foot to step on Becky’s toes. Becky jumped, then stepped back away from him. She smiled weakly in Mrs. Spaulding’s direction and began to read.

Halfway through her report, her right foot cramped from the awkward pose. She had to put it flat on the floor. She read the second half of the report tilted to one side.

When she finished, she looked up. She felt like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

So far so good, she thought.

“Thank you, Becky,” Mrs. Spaulding said.

Becky went back up on tiptoe and started for her seat. Mrs. Spaulding motioned for her to stay in the front.

“Does anyone in the class have any questions for Becky?” Mrs. Spaulding began walking to the front of the room.

Becky felt what must have been a million eyes looking right at her. She knew her face was getting redder by the second. 

Jason’s hand went up.

“Yes, Jason?” Mrs. Spaulding said.

Jason had just a hint of a smirk on his face. “Shouldn’t she stand up straight when she does her presentation?”

By now Mrs. Spaulding was almost to the front of the classroom.

“Yes, I suppose proper posture would help,” she said. “But Becky did a fine job on her report.” She turned to Becky. “Your report was informative, well-researched, and interesting. You’ve shown a lot of improvement, Becky.”

Becky beamed. She couldn’t believe it. She likes my report!

Now Mrs. Spaulding reached her desk. She stopped, looked down at Becky’s foot. “Becky, why are you wearing only one shoe?”

Becky swallowed hard. Jason laughed out loud. The whole class shifted to look at Becky’s feet. Others began to laugh. Becky felt ready to die.

“Class, we don’t need any laughter. Becky, where is your shoe?”

“My shoe is on the roof,” she said in a voice just above a whisper.

“On the roof?” Mrs. Spaulding said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And when did this happen? Didn’t you have both shoes on at the end of lunch period?”

“I was practicing my soccer kick after I picked up my sweatshirt, and it slipped off my foot.”

There was a long silence. Becky stared at the floor.

Becky heard a giggle. She looked up to see Mrs. Spaulding beginning to laugh.

“Only you, Becky Brockway!” She turned to another student. “Ryan, you’re up next.”

As Becky hobbled back to her seat, Ryan whispered to Maria. “I’m going to mess up.”

Maria whispered back. “Take off a shoe. It worked for Becky.”

shortfiction24 – heaven ain’t all joy

A woman struggles in the afterlife as she grieves for the family she left behind.

This story came to me when I woke up this morning. It doesn’t get any fresher. I have often pondered the afterlife. Pure being. What does that mean?

Enjoy the short story!

Heaven Ain’t All Joy

Bob Gillen

I am so disappointed. There was no pearly gate. No St. Peter with a clipboard to welcome me. I’m here, for sure. It’s been maybe a month in your time. Here, there is no time. I measure it by watching my family. 

I miss my family so much. I ache for them. My dear husband Matt, who cared for me to the end. Ryan, my high school senior, set to graduate in a few months. He already has a black band he will wear with his cap and gown. Katy, my fifteen year old. She lives on the autism scale. I know they are grieving. I can see that. But it makes it even harder for me. I grieve them.

Breast cancer nailed me. Nailed me in my prime. A great job as a home health nurse. A schedule I could work around important family events. I was happy. And then, my annual mammogram. Downhill from there. 

So, I’m here. Not at all what I expected. I was so fearful of dying, of going to the afterlife. What would I do there? Sit around and feel joyful? Not my cup of tea. I don’t sit around. I move, I do things. And here I am, dealing with my own afterlife. 

They used to say, after death you are pure being. I am still grappling with that. Still not sure what I am feeling. One thing relieves me. I can see my family. Not too many other people. A few relatives and friends. But not everything going on back there. And not the future. I have no idea what the future will bring for my family. And I don’t appear to be able to influence their lives in any way. I can simply see them. Watch their routines, see the empty space where I should have been.

I miss them like crazy. It’s almost too hard to deal with. Is this some kind of purgatory? Do I have to deal with my own grief? And will it last until they’re all here with me again? I have no answers. And no one here has offered any help in that regard.

I met my parents. We talked. I found out it was not my mother who manipulated me away from my group of friends when we graduated from eighth grade, and pushed me towards a more desirable crowd. I guess I feel okay about that now. It’s like, being here, part of me doesn’t care.

I see people who died before me drift by. Relatives, friends, associates. Some merely nod. Some don’t appear to realize who I am. We don’t communicate in any way.

I saw JFK the other day. The other day, your time. He was smiling, talking to Marilyn Monroe. I did not see Jackie.

And I saw Gov. Dewey. Remember him? Thomas E. Dewey, declared the winner prematurely in the press in the presidential race, only to lose to Truman. My father worked for his law firm for a few summers when he was in high school. He passed Dewey in the hallway back then one day. He said, ‘Good morning, Governor.” Dewey replied, “Good morning, son.” My dad always talked aout that moment.

Okay, I’m saying it again. I miss my family. Are we supposed to grieve up here? I sure am. It hurts like hell. It’s like watching the people you love on television, but you can’t reach out to them.

Ryan plays basketball. A great team. He’s a starter. They have a chance at finals this year. I am so proud of him. Katy, with her autism, loves theater. She builds dioramas of stage sets. She has been constructing the stage set from Hamilton for months. Almost finished. She posts her progress and her completed sets to Instagram, where she has a strong following. A couple of local theater people have encouraged her to create a calendar from her images and sell it online. She’s not ready yet, but I think with Matt and Ryan helping her, she could do it. She has a neurological issue, has to wear earplugs for large, loud gatherings. We had attended mostly local theater, black box theater. Not so difficult for her. She wore her earplugs when we went to see Hamilton. They helped her through the performance without her missing out on the experience.

Matt, my dear Matt. I didn’t thank him enough for the care he gave me, for being at my side till the end. He supported the kids so well. I wanted cremation. They have not been able to decide where to scatter or bury my cremains. Matt wants our backyard. Katy says no, what if we ever moved. Ryan wants the beach, but it’s not legal and there is always someone at the beach who would spot us. As of now, I am in the living room on top of a bookcase. My guess is I will stay there. Okay with me. I’m here. That’s no longer me there. Only bone fragments. 

I am grieving. I said that already, didn’t I? Why? If this afterlife is supposed to be all harps and joy, I don’t get it. I talked about this with my hair stylist one day. She said she knew a medium who had the belief that the afterlife is a series of adjustments, learnings. You are constantly growing as you learn more about life in all its forms. Maybe she was right. I am certainly adjusting. If that is what they would call grief here. Not sure yet about the growing. 

There are people I want to meet here. So far I have not seen them. My eighth grade boyfriend Spin. One of the friends I lost when we all went off to different high schools. Spin, me, Patty, Frank. We were a tight group. I had periodically Googled them in the last few years, but I found no mention of them anywhere. Maybe it just takes time here. Wait, there is no time. I don’t know how to measure anything. 

Do I somehow have to be ready to meet them? Or, this just occurred to me, maybe some of them are not here yet. Duh! I made it to almost fifty. Young for hitting the afterlife. Yeah, most or all of them are probably not here yet. How would I find? Is there a registry? Is there a Google for the afterlife? Search for people who are here? The more I think about it, there are many people I know preceded me that I would like to connect with. I already meet my parents. But so far we have not discussed their earlier lives. I never knew how they met. Where they went to school. What secrets were buried with them. 

My maternal grandmother is here somewhere. She came over from Ireland as a young girl from County Waterford, passed through Ellis Island. Married, lost a husband and a son, remarried. I have not seen her yet. I’d love to know her story about immigrating to New York. I’ll watch for her.

My head is spinning. I have much to do, after all. Watch my family. Try to communicate with them (although that does not seem possible, at least not yet). Look for people here. Look for answers to questions that puzzled me all my life. Was there a conspiracy behind JFK’s murder? How did Marilyn Monroe really die? Yes, I was something of a true crime follower. Always fascinated by questions that had no obvious answers. A high school classmate who disappeared on prom night. Never found. Did she run away? Is she dead? I saw a story recently about a woman who was assumed dead, who turned up very much alive in Rio twenty years later. 

Well, that’s my story for now. I am grieving. Did not think that would happen here. I am struggling to find my way. No one has stepped forward to guide me. I may be on my own for this journey, this sojourn. Only time will tell. Except, there is no time here. 

***

shortfiction24 – voiced by a lesbian comic

Milo finds a new voice in a lesbian standup comic. Change doesn’t come easily.

I’ve mentioned before, some of my stories have turned into series. The characters keep talking to me. I don’t have a story or character arc planned out. The continuing stories arise as they do.

Milo lost his beloved Maurice on stage one night. He was abandoned to the floor of a dressing room closet. He had a few adventures, with Maurice’s spirit helping him out of tight spots.

He has now been thrown together by serendipity with standup comic Moneen. They start a life which may be brand new for each.

Voiced by a Lesbian Comic

Bob Gillen

Standup comic Moneen Quirk waved to the audience, grabbed her water bottle, and left the stage to a healthy round of applause. Backstage the club manager called her over. 

“You did good. I’d like to have you come back. Call me in a month or two, when I have a fresh audience.”

He paid Moneen in cash. “Don’t forget. Call me.”

Deeper backstage in the deserted dressing room, Moneen counted out the cash, stuffed it in her jeans pocket. She wiped makeup off her face, ran her hands through her hair to soften the gel in her spiked blond tips.

“Time to hit the road,” she said aloud.

She reached into the closet for her jacket. The hanger broke, the jacket landed on the floor atop a pile of makeup-stained towels. Moneen reached down and her hand struck something hard. She took out her jacket, reached back in to find a head. The head of a dummy. 

A ventriloquist’s dummy. 

She pulled out the dummy. “Hey buddy. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

Waiting for someone to find me, Milo thought.

Moneen set the dummy on the counter, grabbed a cotton wipe and dusted off its head and shoulders. 

She studied the dummy. “Hey, you look pretty spiffy. Navy pants, striped shirt. A continental look. Can’t imagine anyone leaving you here.”

Moneen smiled, dropped her voice. “I spent a year working a ventriloquist routine. Couldn’t make a go of it. Never found the right dummy.”

 She glanced around the empty room. “How would you like to take a road trip with me?”

Anything but this.

Moneen threw her backpack over her shoulder, tucked the dummy under her jacket, and dashed out the rear exit before anyone spotted her.

In the parking lot sat her white Chevy Silverado 1500 all-wheel drive pickup with a low profile camper in the back. She set the dummy in the passenger seat, climbed in, fired the engine and hit the road.

A few miles ahead she pulled in at a McDonald’s drive through, ordered a Quarter Pounder and a coffee to go. 

As she ate in the truck, she said, “My next gig is tomorrow night. A three-hour drive. How about you and I just ride, see if we can get comfortable with one another.”

I can do that.

Moneen settled in behind the wheel.

“One thing is non-negotiable, Milo. I love driving the night roads.” She reached for the radio. “I prefer good old rock when I drive at night. Anything with bass, and lyrics that touch me…you must enjoy feeling the fresh night air, buddy. Been a long time, huh?”

Amen to that.

Moneen reached over to stroke Milo’s head. “Here we go.”

An hour down the road Moneen spoke. “Hey, buddy, I am so sorry. I haven’t introduced myself. Name is Moneen. Full name Moneen Felicity Quirk. I’m a standup comic. Travel mostly the northeast US, sometimes Montreal when the weather is warm. I live on the road six to eight months a year. This truck is my home. Wifi and internet is my lifeline.

“In the morning I’ll google you, see if I can find out what happened. At least I can find your name.”

My name is Milo. I can’t tell you that because I can’t speak without someone else’s voice. But I have feelings. They’re locked inside.

The wonderful silence of nights on the road fell over them.

After three hours they pulled off the road into a free camp site. Moneen turned the music off. “Have to move quietly in here, or they’ll toss me. We can sleep here. Clean restrooms and good showers.”

The two moved to the camper shell. 

“You can bed in here with me. Hope I don’t embarrass you. Don’t know if I snore. Been a while since I was with anyone.” 

Moneen set the dummy on a seating ledge, then nestled into a sleeping bag on her bunk.

“This is my life most nights. You’d think I can’t come up with any comic material living a boring life. But the humor is here. Gotta look for it, listen for it. I usually take the deep winter months off. Otherwise I play colleges and towns big enough for snow clearance to be a priority.”

In the morning, shortly before noon, Moneen stirred. “Morning, buddy. Let me hit the showers, then we can talk.”

Half an hour later Moneen searched the Internet for clues to what happened to the dummy. 

“Aha. You worked an act with Maurice. He died on stage at the club we just left. Almost two years ago. They left you there…your name is Milo, right?”

Yes.

“Milo, I know you must have been close with Maurice before he died. I hope I can be a friend too.”

Okay.

“I have an idea. We don’t know one another yet. I can’t pretend to be your voice. How about this? My next few gigs you can sit in the wings. Absorb my act, how I connect with audiences. After a while, you can come on stage with me. Remain silent for a bit if you’re not ready. When you are, we’ll try out an act.”

Okay.

“And we’ll spend time on the road getting to know one another. That will help.” 

Better than sitting in a closet.

“You know, I started my career as a ventriloquist’s assistant. Worked my way up to ventriloquist for a short time, but I transitioned over to standup and never looked back.”

Moneen put on a jacket. She ran her hand over the dummy’s control mechanism. 

That feels good.

“Let’s go for a walk. We can talk for a bit.”

The two set out on a path that led to a small lake.

“I should tell you something. I’m a lesbian. Part of the LGBTQ community. I hope that doesn’t put you off. Being voiced by a lesbian.”

Milo spoke through Moneen. “I don’t do well with change. I guess it would be okay.”

“Ah, there’s your voice. Okay, we’ll try it. Might work. A lesbian standup comic voicing a straight dummy.”

They walked for an hour, tentative voices exploring one another’s personalities. As they approached the camper, Moneen said, “I am really slow on the uptake. Milo, you must be feeling a lot of pain. Losing your partner suddenly, in the middle of the act. In front of an audience.”

“It hurts like hell. We were together for a long time. Maurice’s wife divorced him. Said he talked to me more than to her. I was his best friend.”

“Alright, let’s hit the road. There’s a good diner near the next venue. Early dinner, and then we can scope the audience before we go on.”

That night Moneen set Milo on a chair in the club’s wings. She ran through most of her routine to a strong audience reaction.

Moneen glanced over at Milo. Nodded. Turned to the audience.

“Hey, you guys have been great. Before I finish I want to introduce a friend to you all.” She walked over, set Milo on her arm, and brought him out on stage. The audience stared.

“This is Milo. A new friend. I rescued him from the bottom of a closet.”

She had Milo face the audience. “He’s kinda shy.”

“Not shy,” Milo said. “Never been voiced by a lesbian before.”

The audience hooted and clapped.

“Okay, maybe not so shy. A new world for both of us. I worked a ventriloquist act a few years back. My dummies were all gay.”

Moneen unbuttoned the denim overshirt she wore, to reveal a white tee shirt with large bold letters that read: The Future is Female Ejaculation.

The audience erupted. A woman down front yelled, “I hear you, sister!” In the rear another woman stood, shouted, “You rock!”

Moneen sucked in the audience reaction. 

Milo spoke, “I’m a straight guy. This is all new to me.”

“Uh oh,” Moneen said, “I think I embarrassed you.”

Later, sitting in her truck, Milo balancing on her knee, Moneen said, “I owe you an apology. Too much too soon.”

“I told you, I don’t handle change well.”

“Milo, would you consider a costume change? Would you be more comfortable in a different outfit?”

Milo turned to glare at Moneen. “Okay, so we had an awkward moment, and already you want to change me. I’ve worn this outfit for years. Been this character since I can remember.”

“No, no. Just a thought. If you would be more comfortable…”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

The two lapsed into silence. Moneen whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t do change well either.”

Milo did not answer.

Moneen set Milo in the passenger seat, pulled out onto the highway.

“No gigs till the weekend,” she said. 

They drove in silence for hours. At the next campground, they tucked in for the night.

In the morning, Moneen drove to a pancake house for takeout. In the camper, she said, “If I said again I was sorry, would you hear my voice?”

She reached for Milo’s controls. Silence.

Moneen laughed. Milo turned to stare at her.

“I had a crazy thought. We could dress you in a monk’s robe. You could hold a jar of jam. You have a vow of silence. You never speak onstage.”

Milo snickered. 

“Aha, you’re hearing me.”

Milo said, “I’m this guy. I won’t change. Don’t try to make me something I’m not.”

Moneen nodded. “And I won’t change either.”

Milo said, “A straight and a queer. We can make it work.” He blurted out, “Okay, if one of us has to change, how about I take on a James Dean look? Jeans, white tee, cowboy boots, slicked back hair.”

Moneen laughed. “Yeah. Jett Rink from Giant.”

Milo reached over, hugged Moneen. “A straight and a queer with the same sense of humor.”

***

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