Friday, January 24, 2014

2014 Wow and notes on my would-be novel.

      I almost forgot to post anything for this new year, huh? 

     Well, I got myself all side tracked with the many changes of life. Plotting a move, worrying about family.  But recently I had been inspired by and old series of children's books that reminded me of how I came to invent the world of Keshathria. 

     This series is called The Great Brain by John Fitzgerald, and it is as if Huckleberry Finn and Laura Ingales had a book baby.
Written in the 1960s, and set in the 1880's, Fitzgearled was able to capture the common culture of children and family of the times. Many of the childhood situations had not changed, many of the discipline and family justice had not changed in his choice of era. But must seem forien to the kid culture of the 2000's. Cool nostalgia, when there really isn't much against taking it back.

     The situations and the notions of old town living and the general mindset of the adult culture, where integriy, and intelligent partisipation for the good of all, was upheld.  A lot more in the public at the very least. A child of this age wanted to grow up to be hard working like Lincoln, or a strong leader like Washington. And one would like to believe that the levels of deceptive means where nothing like in our modern age.

      My vision of my world was to wonder about what american culture would be today if these common values had never deminished. What if people still took only what they needed and paid back what they owe? What if families talked?  What if the unpublic behind the doors culture reflected the outer culture? What if humans really did care about discipline, wisdom and integrity more than power, gain and glory? 

     Once we had a traditional and a shame culture in the world timeline. And even today there are undiscovered tribes of humans who may also seem so primitive to our take on physical discipline and shame. But we have invented whole new methods of scaring the minds of our citizens, haven't we?   Methods biased on some official not having his way and over powering your desire to be free and self willed. Methods non the less immorally scarring the minds of men without justice or any priority except vengeance.

    My vision is based on the fantasy of,  if there where a human culture that held onto their valuse concerning the best government of man for the good of mankind, rather than working really hard to PRETEND they have that kind of culture, then what would the modern days look like?  

      Would a shame culture work if the punishments where in whole baised on social and moral standards, rather than retaliation and dominance standards?

     I don't know.  But I know that human personality ranges, and includes use of violent nature, even the wisest among us would quothe, "to everything there is a season, a time to every purpose under heaven."

   In the World of Keshathria they practice different methods of energy consumption. They stock pile, use and recycle, as well as seek to replace or use more efficiently from all of their resources. You may produce your own electricity, or  buy it from  the Solar company, the Electric company, the Water plant, or chose alternate lifestyle.  In the cases of the first and the last certain fire codes and public safety measures are applied as well as special medical coverage because a pioneer's life is a rugged one to be sure.  

   I suppose they could have evolved to only use the sun for their energy needs, I mean, it sure is big enough to last them. But they are a free market society. Only more like, capitalism with a ceiling.  What would happen if the Sun Company became the only game in town, and then the coal, and oil and water people standards of service went down?  Well, in a culture of personal gain and greed you would have the seeds for corporate state. If we want to honer free choice, if the people had options to use what they can both financially and  morally afford; then pride in the worker and pride in the buyer are created; happy people.


    In the Kingdom of Kehshathria they aren't going for the gain but for the longevity of the business.  Every business in the towns striving to improve their product, their name.  Rather than have to sell ten refrigerators to a family in 20 years, it is better to sell the same family 20 refrigerators over ten generations.  And maybe their Aunts and newlywed nieces, and so forth.

     This ceiling is something like net. No one or few persons ought to have a monopoly of businesses.  There may have to be lawful caps in place but I, the author haven't gotten to learn much about political theory. Just seems like a cool idea and because I am the author I can make believe that it works. An' ya know what, if I am a good author, I can make you believe it too. (evil cackle)

      Now I have pondered, should my towns have anyone who uses horse and buggy? If my pretend society is market free and conscious free, then I suppose there would be people who decide, everything they need is near by, or would be a short trip away....they don't want to deal with car maintence, cheaper to have a horse. And they do it, they ride in the bikers lane everyday. Now the wagon dealer's shop is not quite in the city so they might need a ride getting out there to buy a horse and buggy.


        Well I guess I am out of things to say about that. Simply imagine that the 1800's went on. Try to over look the fact human nature hasn't changed all that much and i would find corruption and petty voience back then, abuse and alcoholics and all that. But pretend instead, that this is a fantasy that humans had refined that American spirit. That people still spoke and had conversations with the likes of Emerson and Jefferson. People had deep principles, not shallow sides.  And making one's experience of life be a quest for truth. This is not an impossible dream.  


        I have gotten some flack form others about the use of violence, their reactions where personal.  That's when I understood that violence might not be a necessary piece of culture, the notion of it and outrage against it would over shadow the story of the book.  I suppose, for some readers anyway.

      So I started to wonder a bit about it, and figured maybe I just haven't added enough lengthy story telling inserts. Those inserts I warned the reader about earlier that I would be adding to put more drama and play into the story. I am thinking that I have not wrote in the emotional justice I was going for.

      And then I think one can't please them all, and that people who read books, I am sure have read worse. So Ima gonna work on this when I get the notion.  But now I have like, two inserts I want to write so ta ta for now.


      
Post Script Update jan 30th.  There is now a couple inserts in Chapter 17 and I am planing out inserts for chapters 3, between chapters 4 and 5, and also something in chapter 19 I think.  


   
I got to thinking about this slow and tedious "live novel idea". I mean many people take their whole lives to write their novel. they take classes and write and read a billion things to learn how to get that soul on the paper.  




  Yeah, its hard. 

And the great fear that, well, just nobody will get it. And like the millions of other would be artists; their novels become many old dusty pages stashed in the trunk deep in an attic.

 And anyway, since my blog is giving the guts of creation and the agony of planning into the mix. isn't this blog more like a....

*giggles*

Docu-novel? 




 



 

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Rethinking... and my appologies

I am going to scrap this novel idea or at the very least bench it, with the veiw to majorly overhaul the arrangement, and therefore the chapter block of 30 thru 39 " the breaking of George"'(subtitled the inadvertant fucking up of young Diana to be answered for in book three); can't be written.  And.....well there would be no need to write the chapter block 50 thru 59 " the romance of Carol and Jerry" becasue frankly I dont think I shall ever becomre brave enough to write all that grown up stuff.


Besides no one reads them....who then stays my aquaintence...so there must be something wrong... and I am no where near as wicked as Stephen King....... but I think it is the great contrast...between my spiritaully searching earlier works, and then the violent facsist brainwashing for the good of mankind thing.

But.....don't judge harshly, I did not nail the thing. see .I ...

Lost the faith.  Came to the conclusion that perhaps violence cannot play a role in human society, and my novel was an attempt or thought experiment to .oh......give it meaning.  I guess.

I mean as a creature humans have violent natures. And trama alters us...and what if, ya know for the good not the ego. Punishment to enguage the mind, not hurt to pay back at excess of the ill. Yet I did write my examples extreem. And I admit confused the reader wether or not this was a trashy Sm story. or might I be creating a little role play society like the Gor novels did. But not a realilistic system. Which in it's own way is fun.... *ahem a cult following if you will*

But the model I was useing for one thing is not correct becasue I am both players. And also that I had chosen first person, even if one of the person' is a mind reader or extreemly omniscient, it is "supposdly" really hard to tell a story in first person. (ok it is, but I chose four 'first' persons)

I have come up with a way to fix that issue.

And who knows if I would ever achieve this idea but; what if I wrote the story compeltely in the first person of each character....with cirten polt actions being the only connection between each story line....rather than try to weave it all together in a flowingly  schiztophrenic unity.  But I would also like to add this element ... because I love to dream the impossible dream ... to also make the story choose your own adventure.


*grinning with delusions of happy grandure*

Well anyway. What there is here below is quite underdeveloped. And I have since the last writing become somewhat ashamed of this telling of the story, and thought about taking this and making  twists...like (eek) prosicuting Carol as some have suggested...meaning maybe I haven't conveyed my desire that she be the good guy even if precieved as a bad guy.....oh my I don't know.

But I did plead to the muses in the begining of this endeavour I really do need a co-author, I have learned that it is still somewhat true. I need an anchor that can objectivly give literary and artistic counsel, who gets my primal vision.

So.. I guess I am back to writing about life the universe and nothing at all.

I brushed past a soul on youtube, he was interesting. I attempted to reach out to him....and folloing my normal rutine I kinda followed his steps to my blog and thought oh shit.....he wouldn't read past the last chapter...sooooo..........I figure it was time to write my appoligy. Because I am not about to delete three year's of blog time just cause I got embarrassed. I learned with book one...never throw out the original, no mater how much you think you advanced as an artist.

So...there ya go. If you wanna see before I tried writing I suggest the drop down menu, circa 2009 perhaps....


Well Ill be back if'n I gets me something to say.

Justine.




Monday, August 6, 2012

Kehshathria Chapter Thirty



                                    ***Jerry***


                              Thursday went by in a sullen mood.  The air was dead. Diana worried about if George was  going to sell her out. She kept with the meditation orders, didn't clean that corner, didn't clean the coffee pot and so forth.  George seemed to have a grip on his situation, and pretended that this was a normal day. And it was, except the  air was void of connection between each of us.   Mistress was again off before dawn.

                           I lingered over my breakfast this morning, and I maintained the flaws I had systematically set  during each day of the week.  George, now finally able to stand was catching a bit of fates hell trying to maintain the lawn.  He was grumbly, then mute most often in deep thought. And I let him go again with a deep exhale. As I did, I noticed that I had just finished dusting the chandelier.  I was three steps away when I cursed about it. Well consider that my flaw of the day Mistress. I chuckle to myself and go about my work.

                         When she inspected all was good, but she said to me "Jerry one of your flaws is missing." I replied "It was always there I just forgot Mistress." and she smiled at me and laid her hand on my shoulder and said "Well done, now serve the dinner." 

                         "Mistress, I am starting to wonder if you are trying to leave us.  You haven't eaten breakfast with us all week.  Things aren't the same."    We tried to engage her in chat but she simply said she was preparing an event at the school, some visiting dignitaries.  There was also a new class of Reform Students that needed accommodations planed for.  She did look exhausted. 

                        We ate in relative silence, we cleaned up, we watched alittle T.V.   At some point it was like the air turned back on. I saw MsC, suddenly look at D, and then to G.  During commercial she paused the TV.  " I have just thought of a game, George. I have found an opportunity to give you a training exercise.  And Diana you will be involved too.  I have a riddle to solve.
                        " The trouble with mental telepathy is that I can only hear distressed thought, lucid thought and questions. The only place your thoughts are absolutely private is in your bedrooms, by design of Peter.  I don't hear day dreams, or reasoning, or worry. That should be alittle help full tid bit you might consider for the game. "  They glance at each other, and assume defencive postures while MsC continued.
                     " You might well wonder what  I have been hearing.  Just a moment ago, I heard Diana think. "what if he tells."   And I am saying Don't tell. Please don't tell. If you do the consequences will backfire both ways.  You see George has to learn he will not have the advantage to manipulate you,  and you need deal with yourself.  George  you have a secret, and you must protect it, I want that secret from you, but it will cost you double what ever is justice for Diana. And I am about to unleash hell upon you , that will not let up until you confess.   Diana if you confess, he gets half of what is justice for you, and you get to join him in hell.   I do not tolerate snitching, and bully games."

               George's eyes dart back and forth and he intelligently asked, ' and if no one confesses Reformer?"  And she replied. " That seldom happens. But then Diana can consider herself forgiven. So that she has an interest in you not telling. Try pondering the possible backfires a while longer, boy."

                Our evening passed more slowly and no retreat was given to either one to retire early. This ordeal I thought was particularly evil but I kept my mouth shut, I mean if D did something wrong then MsC can handle it any, but to use it against G for trying to use it against her, was it so wrong in a good way or just wrong? 
  
                Then there was Friday. The morning quiet, the Mistress gone early,  the other two up and alert with me which was practically to the reverberation of MsC's baracuuda peeling out.
At some point D asked G what was was gonna do;  and he told her try putting it out of her mind. He went on explaining how there is no trouble at all for her. MsC turned it all around on him. She protested that was only if he could take it.  G winked at her and said you have nothing to worry about tonight D, I really shouldn't have tried it anyway. I was just pissed off, but not anymore.
"You where going to use me?" she asked stunned. He ruefully nodded.  "I thought I would be able to solicit you for help with my work. Heaven knows why I am telling you this except, that I am not going to do that anymore. I don't want to see you get punished for ...it.  I am sorry, Diana."  Then she smiled slightly and we ate in acquaintanceship. 

               The list was the same. We went about our details. D and G maintained the set standard of the week. I felt differently, so I did nothing but polish a decorative plate from the dinning room, and lounge around. Come inspection time MsC said everything was good with them but she pointed out my perfect plate. I picked it up and told her " No Mistress, it was not flawless until you looked at it. Now..." and I dropped it.  She grinned at me with her eyes sparkling, and said "Sir, you are invited to my den.  You two serve dinner while we're out.

             Her den was dark oak panelling and wood furniture inter mediated by a double picture window,  a deep green rug,  a red desk blotter set, a high backed executive desk chair, and two low backed coordinated pieces in front of the L-Model executive office desk.  There where many law books and manuals, and general curriculum books lining the shelves, and there was the old slate grey filing cabinet.
                        
             She pulled my file out of the cabinet, and my stomach trimmered, she made an entry then spoke. " Jerry you are released today. Tomorrow I will have your transport arrangements organised and have this officiated. "  "May I speak?"  I timidly asked, she smiled "Of course you may, Jerry."   I continued, telling her about my plan to go to the local school. "Would I be able to stay here a while till I get my self set up?"
             "It is somewhat unprecedented but I can serve as a half way point. But you will not be permitted to interfere with the others. You are a free-man, things change. If you feel the need to talk with me about anything that concerns them you must ask to conference in the den. You may have general conversation but you may not advise them. It would a professional courtesy. I will have the funds allotted for your travel and start up allotment converted to you tomorrow afternoon.  You can apply it to the school you choose." And she blushed at me, apologising for still giving orders she shook my hand and we went into the dinning room together. 
            D and G kneel and stand and Mistress...I mean Carol announces my parole, and as a free-man they where to kneel to me when I enter a room where they are an no other time. They would not speak to me, unless it was service related.
           And we ate, I was a guest and when I did settle to sleep I intended to get started in the morning, learning what being free for myself was gonna be about.


            
               
             

              



              




                        

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Kehshathria Chapter Twenty-Nine





                                                  *** Jerry***


                      While G went upstairs to clean up and dress, D and MsC went back to the kitchen, I could smell that Popcorn was in the works.  I stole a moment to grab a smoke in my car.

                    My brain was tired, my emotions hurt.  Sitting before me was the realisation that George was not my friend, but I somehow I still cared about him. I still counted our times together as the good ole days. But I also realised that those days where stolen by him, or worse.  I just didn't know what I was giving away.  I somehow let George go. I started making plans for when I was released.  I didn't want to be shipped back to my hometown.  I didn't want to go back to my father fresh from prison still needing a job, still needing a diploma, still not much removed from messing around with ...'that george guy' . 

                  In fact the more I thought of it the more ashamed I became of going home. And I made a goal this when I am ready. All I want is to write a letter to my parents so they wont worry that I am still  screwing up.  There was a very nice college about 30 miles away from here that takes boarders, and I'd be able to get my science degree there.  I am 19 now, by next year, I could be finished, if I worked twice as hard. And the degree would give me better rank and choice of military job placement.

               But then if I haven't much time left to graduation, they might let me sign a student waver to put off my military service.   Then I'll go and see about some kind of instructor work  so I can go straight onto  Science Professor after service.   I will be 25.  Sure my folks won't see me for another 5 years.  But I have lost time to recover.  And then George will have five years to get his shit straight.  Maybe then I can see him, see who he is. But not right now.

             I slowly gather my thoughts in and join George in the living room as 'the snail' rolled opening credits, and 'the girls' where still in the kitchen about to join us. We stood. we knelt, we sat, we watched and George looked intimidated and frustrated, but he was quiet.

            See tonight's episode opened upon a salt and pepper haired gentleman, surround by  his family at a picnic. Kids running around, a child identified as a cousin marched up to the man tugging along a younger boy identified as the man's son. " Uncle Frank,  Josh doesn't believe me. I told him that you did time. You did didn't you?"  The boy accused, proud that he won some measure of power.  Frank took the boys to sit under a tree.  " Bobby, It is not your place to tell secrets. But if you want to know about it. Yes, Josh I did serve time when I was 17. It was a long time ago, in 1949.  I am  convicted of robbery, and accessory to murder."  The boys sat back stunned.  Josh started to cry in confused shame.  Uncle Frank continued. "Hey now. I didn't kill anyone, but if I was not there, the Old man would have lived.

          I had a friend, Ruby.  He was a tough guy, I was also tough  it was a rough time. Jobs hard to come by, didn't much care about anything important.  We where thugs, and one night as we where robbing a random house we where startled by an elderly couple. The woman was frightened and clung to her door frame with the telephone, while the old man took after Ruby with a bat down the hall.  I was on the far end of the hall, the old lady was feet from me. I was stunned, I shakily set the stereo down and held my hands out.  I wasn't going to rough up an old lady.  I started to try to escape anyway and inch toward her, scurrying along the far wall.  She let out a whimper, and I said I just want to get out of here.  But the small sound from her mouth made the old man hesitate. He had landed a powerful blow to Ruby's right shoulder, and was rearing back to deliver a finishing touch, but he hesitated, and Ruby tackled him against the wall ,wrested the bat from the old man and drove a strike to his chest. 

        The lady shrieked and ran to her man as we bolted down the stairs and out the door. We made it home, and hide for three days.  But the woman remembered my face well. And they came for us. Oh boy," the man laughed as another cousin settled into the  shade of the tree. 

        "Master Peter Gregg, when you are capable of speaking,  are the first and last words out of your face.  " Announced a raven haired man of 29 years as we where delivered to his front door, which was at the end of a long hall.  Ruby sneered and we both where punched in the stomachs and  then pounded down to the floor with a blow between our shoulders. " That is the position you will assume until I deem you worthy enough to stand. And trust me boys are are far from worthy.
Welcome to hell. "  The man backed up  to look over our files. He didn't even know what we where in for yet, and boy neither did we.  Ruby kicked in his foot and pushed a lunge tackle at the man, who clotheslined him and picked him up by his throat and chin. "Ruby, is it?  You killed that old man, you son of a bitch. I don't think that was very nice.  And you are attacking your Reformer. I don't think that is very smart, Ruby.  See, you need to remember that I am authorised to use lethal force should I feel threatened.  Ruby should I?  Feel threatened?"  And he tensed his grip, milking the color from Ruby's face. "master peter g'g regg no threat mas-ssssttt   ptter Gg....uhg" As the man tossed him down, and  told him to get back in place next to me. 

           And Master Gregg spent the next month running us, drilling us, we hardly got sleep.  We paid day in and day out for the life of the old man. One day we where scrubbing the third floor with a bucket and tooth brushes, it was  master's chamber.  He had us drag sleeping bags up there, said we weren't worthy of bedrooms yet. We heard his summoning bell chime this meant that we had 20 seconds to crawl  down to him, or it was 20 lashes and  10 more for each second after. 
         We thudded simultaneously on our hands and knees at the foot of the front stairs, where Master Gregg had just invited a Girl Scout child into the foyer.  Our heads where especially ashamed, palmed planted into the floor.  He started speaking.
        " As I was telling you Miss, I knew two persons who would be very interested in your story. Would you do them the honer?"  The young girl wide eyes took in the sight of us, and stared up into the face of Master Gregg with shock. He smiled at her and stood with his arms crossed and motioned with a hand for her to address us.  She became a bit prouder, and adjusted her merit ribbon infested brown sash.
       "Our local troop has heard about the devastation of the Jenkins Couple of Fairmount Abbey. A charity chain was started in their local chapter 889 because after the Old man Died of heart attack while fending off two burglars. With him dead,  Mrs Jenkins is about to lose the mortgage on her house.  And there  is no where for her to go and be able to support herself without his income.  So the troop decided to do a charity drive to see if we could gather enough in money donations and donations of good saleable items, that we might reach our goal of setting Mrs Jenkins up for life.  We estimate that we need at least 60 to 100,000 dollars.  The idea went viral and all the troops  in the tri-state area that I know of are participating.   I am with troop 335 and that is what I am doing now.  Going door to door, giving  out flyers, and seeking  help.  The ladies at the axillary are organising raffles and social events  to honer the drive if anyone is interested the number is on the flyer." and she nervously curtsied and stepped back, gazing up at Master Gregg.
           He winked her her then addressed us.  "Isn't that interesting boys? Are either one of you  desiring to make donations to this cause?"  And it was at the point that I cracked, children, I suddenly felt every emotion I ever knew of guilt for my life.  I realised the consequences for my stupidity where more than I could bear and I dropped  prostrate on the floor weeping.  Ruby wobbled stoically and drew his shoulders tight and flat, grunting ' I thought I was donating already.'   Master Gregg sneered at him, muttering 'indeed you are, and that severely.' but the bent himself down and laid his hand on my shoulder softly. "Frank, you are worthy to chose a room and to stand.  But first I want you to give this young lady a good donation of  anything you see fit in my house.  And you might as well fill her cart up and help her carry it down to the axillary, I am going to need some time alone with your friend. You my rise, Frank." 
          And so I did, and serving time when a whole lot smoother for me than Ruby. And I learned a valuable lesson about the friends you choose, and the friends you keep. "

        

         ..... and the television faded to black and we all retired for the night.


      




       

        
  




           

Friday, August 3, 2012

Kehshathria Chapter Twenty-Eight




                                    ***Jerry***

                                On Wednesday the note just said "Maintain former instruction." I gave a roll of my eyes, and made the coffee too strong.  Mistress left before 4 am again.  I wondered about what she had to do so early at the school.
Then I thought to myself, ' wonder if 'former instruction' means do the flaw thing, or get back on track, or maintain the flaws we made yesterday?'  

                             To remind myself of a normal home, I remember Master Robert ran his home like a coach on steroids. When he introduced himself to me I knelt.When he spoke I just listened. He was a good man, and by and by I worked more as a Butler/servant for him and his wife. they where both  in their late 40s, and never had children.   I missed George, but I was also happy about being away from him at the same time.  Rob encouraged me to study. And I was settled and happy within weeks.   I seldom got in trouble there, until six months in,  the powers that be put George back with me.   I mean, at first it was good times.  Just like when we where kids. We hung out , he gave me attention. Master Robert was a man of action not affections, very stern. But George and I had fun and that was nice.  But I just don't see it anymore , now.

                           I was 15 that summer when George had an idea brewing under the facade of  our garage auto shop.  He was angling for a particular "client".  We hid the car, claimed it was stolen from the shop and got the auto insurance and the business insurance to pay out.  Some kid that knew the "client" remembered seeing the car being towed out of town, and it wasn't long before the cops arrested us from my dad's living room.  Tried and convicted of accessory to commit grand larceny, four years reform.   I was terrified.  George was stone faced, and cock sure. I was not. I needed George, but I ...  resented him.  

                      I was going to save up the money we earned and use it toward my college.  I wanted to be a Science teacher.  And now I was  sitting in a cold grey cell, being medically examined, and passed on to the next cell where I was psychologically evaluated, and a next cell to be  interviewed about the Reformee Placement procedure.  George was my last bit of normal, now that my world had flipped upside down.  I... I forgot that I was ever a boy who chased a dieing duck.       

                     Diana came shuffling in.  We didn't have happy faces this morning.  " I hoped she wasn't going to say anything about it?" Diana muttered out loud, drawing my curiosity. She looked at me. "I mean we where having a talk in the car when I slipped up and was all 'wow' about him becoming an investigator. In a way isn't this back lash my fault?" She rued.
                    "Don't blame yourself D, he started it himself. She even gave him time to think himself over when she told him to play a guessing game.  Woman's crafty, it is more like you telling her was a que for Carol to work on the problem at hand."
                    " Jerry, you sound like you know Mistress pretty good.  But she's gone insane just a bit don't you think?  Tormenting him? I mean things around here where settled and life was good, now she is going after him hard. I don't like it."  I let myself laugh at the young Diana. 
                   " Well look at it like this, you know you will be going to military service, right? So you will have to go through training camp. You think they will play nice?  Mistress Carol has to intensify on George, because he needs to build physical and mental endurance.  You can build your own up just by observing  what is going on between them."
                 " Jerry, I think your stoned, but I guess so. But isn't she purposely trying to intimidate us by not taking their business to the chamber?  Why do I have to watch him crawl around?"
                 "I am thinking, I mean for myself anyway, That no matter how I may feel threatened, George is the one taking it.   A. Her attention is divided away from us. Which mean we are doing well.   B. It is worse for him.  C. She is his reformer.  And I think we just have to try to make sure we keep out of trouble. I don't mean to sound hard but, I think he is getting what he deserves now. And it is just a taste of what he's getting himself into. "    And we served breakfast, George was very slow coming with his thump-slighter decent of the front stairs he didn't join us for breakfast. 
                 We sat in the kitchen literally holding our breath, as we listened to the front door struggle open and slam shut.  Then we saw him five minits later crawling  underwear clad into the shed to get window washing equipment.  The sight of it was unproud.  He was a well build boy not hairy, besides hair doesn't grow on scars, his back was crossed with over 100 old streaks ,and he kept his stomach and legs toned and well cut.  The remains of  last night stained them nearly down to his knees.  Yet he struggled to drag the pail, squiggy,  soap, towels and some tape and poles, to the front yard where the water hose was.
               "Did he hear us?" She whispered. I reached out my mind, and told her no. George was on his own trip today.  He didn't feel right to me today. And we went on our chores in silence.

               The windows on the first floor had billowing streak marks that reached the grand height of less than half of the bottom pane.  That took him clear until lunch, which he joined us for.

              "Hows that working out for you G" Diana could barely help herself, as she spyed his tired slumped frame devour his lunch. He shot her a sharp cold glare, which set her back.
              "I didn't think it would be you D. Jerry is the one I thought would have something smart to say, but not you. After all that we have been thru, you know."  She started to stammer. And I smelt his manipulation and watched her iris' narrow.  And his digestion seemed to improve. And I .... think I hated him.  
            " So that's how it is going to be George, you catch a little hell and then you start to fink out? I don't know what you have on Diana but it has nothing to do with what is going on with you." I defended her.  He looked defensively in my general direction. "Hey, I am just saying that I didn't think it she would have made the remark.  Why are you so touchy anyway?"  He lied.

    ' He's a fucking liar. But he wasn't always.  Well we used to talk about everything, I knew his darkest secrets, he knew me.  We laughed, we worked together, we drank together.  He wasn't always like this. I swear. The George I knew, is not this George. That George was  my brother.  This George was a liar.  And my mind twisted and churned and I spent the rest of my day rearranging the living room not much giving a damn about making flaws.

      Mistress came home as usual, and inspected as usual, and we ate dinner, she told us our work was good and let George recover.  There was an interesting episode of "the lives and times of the snail"
            
               
               
              






                  





                       


Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Kehshathria Chapter Twenty-Seven



                                      

                                          ***Jerry***


                            Tuesday Morning the note read " Try again today and if George walks down those stairs he is to strip to his underwear."  And I waited to see what was going to happen, and cooked breakfast.


                                       ***George***

                           I pondered all night over leaving a flaw. I am not sure why, perhaps it was to avoid thinking about......I am not reformed but close.  How would she know really any way? But I settle myself on the value of her integrity.  I mean she has a point or two about the types of people I will be dealing with. The types of situations. 

                        Imagine, going into into a Reformer's home and suppose I have a mock up that I am a stuttering manic depressive  35 year old, whose crime was aggravated assault of an officer during a bungled armed robbery. Whamo, three years time.   I will have to be that person, at least until I secured evidence of  abuse or incompetence.

                       Or if the home investigation reveals no malpractice after a certain time frame unknown to myself the state will send for a transfer.  Which sometimes happens for varying reasons that do not concern the reformer.   I will have to study personality profiles and confrontational techniques.  I begin to drool over the possibilities to save the day.  But of course I most likely won't be going to homes like Carol's.  It will be homes like MsT. And worse homes. Homes of conniving bastards.  Where if I break I may die. 

                       If I ever act out of character with even the fellow prisoner, I would be found out.  there could be no slips, no flaws.  She's right it is time to be more serious, cause frankly MsT was child's play.  * I grin to myself*

                    And so what's this shit now? My head can't be above her knee?  She thinks going hard core is gonna break me. I been to Rob's house, I can do hard core.   I raise up to get dressed for today, and walk down the back stairs to the kitchen.

                    Greeted with snickers from Diana.

                    "No fucking way." I protest, slamming my knee into the table as I scooted my chair in to eat. 
                    " Don't be an idiot, you know that will get you no where fast."
                    " I don't care."  And I told everyone to shut up and let me just regroup myself.
                    " Gawd knows it George, just do it no big deal. Don't make her take TV again tonight." D whined in my general direction. "Fuck your TV, D" I bit my tongue as I spoke. " I am not going around in my underwear,  god be begged, I have to mow the lawn today! What, on my hands and knees too?  What the....freak!"
                  " He's got a point Diana with that image in our heads, who needs TV tonight?" Jerry mocked.   But in the end learning the lesson seemed better to me than going to chamber. 


                             *** Jerry***

                   
                       Diana played the 'do my normal work', card, but made notice of the flaws. Some where inside the item, like the bread was stale, that we had for toast. And others where missed details like she didn't sweep the corner of the floor as well as the rest. Diana didn't go about on purpose to make flaws she just looked for the natural ones.  George's work was hideous.  He was scuffed and bug mauled, sore and the lawn was a patchwork of errors.

                     And I just went haphazardly about, nearly artistically , I left a creases undone in the curtains,  I actually did forget to dust the Chandler, and I left the books on the shelves nonuniform and dusted them without taking them of the shelf.  I knew I might not be quite right, but I also knew that resting on my job was not an option.  And I hated it.  I could spot the screw ups instantly.  Like big sore thumbs mocking me. Just before her arrival I found myself gently correcting the flaws, or moving them around... 'No,  not this book but let's tilt the light shade instead.'   We lined up in the foyer, George on hands and knees waiting, he had also cleaned himself up.


                   The car's engine purred to a halt out side. She entered.  She asked Diana to show her what she had done. And remarked that this was good.  In the dinning room,  she told me to work on it.  Just that much information but  to George  she had more to say in the living room.

                  " George do I possess my knees at all times? Silly question I know, but I just  can't think of any good reason you would start your day in disobedience, except that you forgot that I had knees all of the time.  They are approximately 2 feet from the floor.  George, how high is the bath tub?  Do you begin to see where this is leading young man? Speak your mind." And she paused. Georges red face hanging between his shoulders, he rested himself back on his calves, and propt his head up on his bended arms. 

                  " Yes Reformer. But in my defence I did assume you meant only in your presence."
                  " Are you being genuinely dense, or awe struck? That is not a defence. If the others chose to leave the room they may return in 30 minits, George retrieve the twase and bring it to me. You will have one more day to practice simple obedience."

                  But we didn't leave. I was detached.  Mistress turned on the TV an  Diana said that she felt she shouldn't have to leave, she was all wound up in yarn and tough do do for him. I smirked.

                 In the pit of my stomach I was simply morbidly curious about seeing him take it, but I couldn't really bring myself to look at him. Each strike seemed to release my anger toward him. 

               I was  13 when we met. I was a geek Gia's child wanna be. Yeah I saved the bird, His uncle gave me a lift home and George asked me about myself.  I was into nature and science, wanted to be a teacher.  He told me that he didn't know what he wanted to do yet, he liked doing odd jobs.  We found out we where going to have school together, and he started hanging out.  He taught me card games, and alittle sports, and auto work.   Over the next few summers we where trying to start up little summer businesses.  We went around doing yard work the first summer, he did all the wheeling and dealing, and I ended up with most of the detailing. He's sometimes try little scams and I had to play along.  He introduced me to pot.  Told me it would connect me with Gia, ... told me..  lies.

               And I sympathetically flinch with satisfaction.  After his ordeal he was told to not be disruptive, and join us for television.  She had better not see any kind of reaction of defiance, she warned. 

and there passed evening, and there was pensive meandering, it had been Tuesday.


                   



                 
                  















                     

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Kehshathria Chapter Twenty-Six




                                        ***Jerry***


                               Monday, MsCarol left extremely early, before wake up even. I found her chore list on the kitchen table, as we shuffled in.  "Alrighty kids,  looks like I have to polish everything again, only I have to leave one flaw in everything I do today.  Whats more is, I am to make sure each of you leave a flaw in your work too." I laughed over my coffee, and toast. 'That will be easy enough' George said seeking a permanent marker while Diana's eyes hardened with defiant incredulousness. " No George." I responded." Leave a Flaw, work around that one flaw." To which his eyes brightened. 
                            " She can't mean in 'everything' we do?  That can be unsanitary, or well how to you flaw something without messing it up, like with cooking? Maybe it means counters, floors and what not.?" Diana offered.   George sipped his coffee slowly, while I stared out the  sun washed  window. Mentally echoing the words 'flawless'.... 'that is impossible as you  know' ....'dipshit ran in front of the car'.... I began to observe George anew... this time I pondered 'how long since I have been that dipshit?'
                          "She told me once that she could find flaws in her own work. Talk about hypercritical." Diana whines.
                          " If that's the case, " George offered " then the answer is, let's just do our work the normal way. And we all hummed apprehensively.  See, with Mistress's work-meditations there were penalties for misinterpretation. Hence the coolness in out foxing her. But this time I was not down with George's answer. 
                         " No offence toward Diana, but come on G.  Do you think that first level thinking is gonna cut it with Mistress Carol?  She's like  A " real master" , " I emphasize with finger quotes. " She'd see that play a mile down the road." and we laughed, Diana laughing slowest.  Silent crunches of deep thinking and sips of contemplation.


                           You cannot possibly imagine how difficult it turns out to leave a flaw.  I polished the silver tea set in the dinning room, tried to leave a spot un done but it kept getting marred up, or buffed up oh I don't know. I set them back on the serving board with the flaws hidden from view.
George Left weeds in one of the plots of the front garden and Diana burnt dinner. 
 After MsC was home, George and I set the table incorrectly, and Diana was feeling brave enough to put a hair in the mashed potatoes.  We thought we dun good enough. MsC's eyes where amused, and she concealed her judgements from us, and we dared not ask.  By TV time we where feeling deflated, obviously we didn't get it right or she would have said something. Oh shit, I rolled my eyes as the television clicked off and Mistress' presence shined.

                     " You have not understood this week's exercise, children. There will not be television this evening.  We will do nothing, put your yarn down, young lady. " They looked at each other.
"What part of everything did you not understand?"    Diana moans "but  Mistress, how do you mess up the food?  I can't like, leave a dirty spot on each fork, or put sugar instead of salt. "
"You can learn to not over-correct.  A flaw, one error or oversight.   Seems you all went quite far in elaborating in schemes.  Jerry, why did you hide the flaws?" She looked at me.
 
                   "Just because it is flawed , doesn't mean it has to be put out front, Does it, Mistress?"
"Hum, But the exercise is not about that. You don't need to be a smart ass.  We have already had a few lessons about what hiding things does for you. How could you imagine that my lesson for you would be to hide what you are ashamed of?  You will stand in the corner until dismissal." And my stomach dropped as I mutely complied.

                  She let the air hang a heavy blanket a while as George sweated his verdict.  Being last was not always the most pleasant. "Why didn't you leave all the weeds?" 

"I am afraid Reformer that is because I was being ficsious.  Why do we garden? Except to remove flaws. "  He answered and she grinned. "Then you have given me the wrong answer George. You should have taken the day off instead.
"knowing you Reformer that would have still be the wrong answer." 
"Well you can bet it will be the wrong answer tomorrow, George.  Tell me why you told Diana about your career training?"  Diana gasped, and crossed her arms.
"I- ..Reformer, thought that, it would be harmless. What happens in the house stays in the house, right?"  George pandered.  MsC took a slow moment to process, and grin.
                           "I am growing less accepting of your arrogance George.  Bragging and pride are your weakness. You wanted adulation's from Diana to give you charge. But I mean to teach you that your drive must come form a stronger place. You are not reformed George, but you are very close.   And you are at the mere door frame of becoming a Reformer in training, above all else, Special Ops is a secretive thing. Already you want to blow your cover, if you catch my meaning. I mean to teach you that your cover must be deeper. Your reactions and plays far more stable and congruent. But first let us deal with your pride and bragging.  " I could feel George's spirit shrink into the couch as she tore into him another 20 minits concerning the requirements of his career.  She finally began to conclude.
                         "I know I have seemed abusive George, but you must be able to keep your mission thru all ordeals in order to trap the perp. You will have to assume personalities and identities to work your craft and protect the prisoners without giving yourself away at all.  Are you quite certain that you envy this employment?"
                        "I do Reformer."
                        "We will come to see about that shortly." She responded. "My punishment for you is that all your discipline will be public, and you will overcome yourself thru humilities. Since you want to let your buddies in on all the cool stuff, let us begin your training early.  I am sure Diana will love to see it.  You may sit for this evening but tomorrow you will not be allowed to have your head above my knees."
                         " So be it Reformer."

And there passed evening,  and there was silence, it had been Monday.