UTTER NONSENSE

 Landing on the moon with friends, on a home made ship...

Three things happen at once:
• A klaxon briefly sounds – AHOOGA, AHOOGA, AHOOGA!
• The constant RAT-A-TAT-TAT RAT-A-TAT-TAT RAT-A-TAT-TAT ends suddenly.
• A suave male British voice announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We have reached our destination and are about to land. The local time is…well, I have no idea and the temperature is…so damn hot that it can’t be measured accurately. I hope that you’ve enjoyed your trip and travel AirPratsat Charter Services again. As there are no stewards, you’ll have to disembark on your own. Thank you for traveling AirPratsat! Have a nice day!”

“What’s happening, F*ck?” asks Lilith with some trepidation.
“What the Captain said…we’re about to land here on the Moon!” grins F*ck with insouciance, “I DID it! I got us to the Moon!”
“But….who is the Captain?” asks Lilith.
“Oh that’s just something I downloaded from the internets, my lady…and I adjusted it just for us!” preens the D*ck.
“Do you know how to land this thing?” Ankara queries.
“I don’t need to,“ sparkles F*ck, “we’ll use the parachutes to land!”
Lilith says with concern obvious in her voice, “But, F*ck….
THUNK
THUNK
THUNK…..
CRASH….
THUNK….
……………tinkle….tinkle….
BOOM!
                      “…..there’s no air on the Moon to use parachutes!”

Silence.
…………….PING!

“We’re here! I did it! I’m the first F*ck on the Moon!” F*ck jumps up and down with joy.
“I don’t know about that,” Morningstar muses, “Look over there.”
Everyone dashes eagerly to the window and looks out.
And stares agog.

The K’s start handing out fresh tinnies.
Everybody gulps them down.
“Oghod, oghod, oghod, “ says Lilith.
“Well, I never expected to see THAT, “ exclaims the Wraith.
“I need to pee,” whispers Ankara and makes a run for the loo.

Morningstar catches Lilith's eye and smiles with deep satisfaction.

Lilith covers her empty socket with one hand, while holding out the other hand to the Dark Lord,  "Could I have my eye back now, please...." 

Sterling Silver Starlight

 

Sterling silver starlight
dappled the limpid lake waters
as we sat on the sand beside it
chatting and laughing about innocuous things.

When we were young.

Then you mentioned Janice Westbury,
I'll never forget that moment.
You said that she was so fine and that you
would like her to be in your family.

Something shattered inside me,
I bowed my head and hugged my knees.
You saw my sadness and chuckled,
I thought I'd die.

Then you put your arm around my shoulders,
pulled me closer and said
that you wanted to set her up with your brother
because they'd be a perfect match.

We were young.

Five years later, we sat with our first-born child
on the same stretch of sand
the day after a storm and debris was all around.
We sang folk songs and lullabies.

Ten years later,
there were five of us on the beach.
It had eroded from a series of wild storms,
but we still had a fire and we sang.

We were not as young.

Another ten years passed and we sat alone
on our beach.
The children being older and away with friends.
We were glad to be together and at peace.

And then twenty years passed so quickly.
The lake was turgid with high waves,
We spoke of many things,
preparing ourselves,
should one leave before the other.

We were no longer young.

And then the day came that you were gone.
I sat alone on the beach
looking up at the sterling silver starlight,
knowing you were there.

©Ellen Pepper 2023

Maeve's Memories

 

"I miss Manhattan. The only time it's ever really quiet is in the early morning in Central Park near the reservoir after a heavy snowfall.

I miss the aromatic, omnipresent stench of urine smacking you in the nose as soon as you drive into the city." (smirks)

 "I remember the first time I ever went to a cafe and asked for a bagel and the woman behind the counter, Mrs Rubens, asked me if I wanted a schmear with that. I said," Maybe. What's a schmear? I'm from Canada."
Mrs R said, "It's a bit of cream cheese."
I said, "YES, please! Yum! I'd love a schmear!" I was so young then." (smiles)

"I miss the long walk from the West Side Y down Broadway to the acting school. The blocks in Manhattan are very short. You can cover them in 3 or 4 strides. Nobody on foot gives a damn about traffic lights.

I recall the day my friends and I exchanged nods and smiles with Andy Warhol as we passed each other in front of the Plaza Hotel, and we were giddy about it for hours - jumping up and down and behaving badly." (sighs)

"There was that day Yul Brynner and I spoke about acting in the Lincoln Center Library. He was listening to records with earphones while I was studying a script. When I was leaving, he called me over and we chatted about acting... like old friends, until I had to get to rehearsal. I wish I'd stayed longer. He died about a month later.
I was never really certain that it was Yul, after all he introduced himself with a different name - I think he said he was Jules.

I miss the camaraderie of New Yorkers when they knew you were one of them. God help you if you were a tourist, though." (eyeroll and smiles)

"I miss the spontaneity of the crowds and the magnificently bizarre interactions - like being surrounded by drug dealers while walking with some friends at Broadway and Central Park South and I scared them off by waving my arms, screeching like a maniac, and screaming out, "RUN!!! RUN!!! RUN!!!!" - which had the effect of scattering the dealers. We raced straight into Central Park chased by one brave guy who would not stop chasing until I turned around, raced up to him and asked what the hell he wanted. He said that he just wanted to sell some of his stuff. He was afraid of me. (laughs) Well, a guy has to make a living, right?"

"I remember the night of an ice storm when a bunch of us were on our way to watch a play and the most obnoxious dude was attention-seeking, as per usual - he was related to a famous Hollywood star don't ya know. He started belting out,"San Franciso, open your Golden Gate!" while flinging wide his arms... and slipping on the ice... and falling flat on his pompous ass. I laughed so hard. The others gave me side-eye.
 It's funny, but in all these years I've never heard of him making it in show business.

One man who did make it, had narcolepsy. He fell asleep more than once while we were on stage. How he ever managed to act for a living is a mystery. The man could not stay awake."

"Well, that's enough for now, my dear. You've been very gracious to listen to an old woman ramble on about things that... just don't matter anymore."
                                     ___________________

- An interview with Maeve Milton.
Recently recorded at The Shady Acres Home, Renfrew NY
_____________________________________________
©Ellen Pepper 2023

ABOUT BONNIE

 [Hank's story #3]

 

Hey Hank
It's me, Joe - Bonnie's brother. I don't go by Joey anymore.

Something bad happened to Bonnie. We buried her on Tuesday.

The reason I'm writing is to let you know that we found a box with your letters in it and a letter that Bonnie was going to send to you. I'll just tell you what she said in it because it's a bit messed up and hard to read from the bloodstains. You won't want to see it.

She didn't say much.

This is it -
Hank,
I can't ever come back.
The demons got my soul and won't let go.
B.

Anyway, maybe someday soon I'll come down your way and visit.
Sorry for the bad news.
Joe

_________________

 © Ellen Pepper 2023

THINGS HAVE CHANGED...

 [Hank's story #2]

 

Howdy Bonnie,

Since I wrote you a year ago, things have changed around these parts. I have some news for you, even though you haven't replied to my last.

Sandra's baby, Polly, is walking now and she's a handful - getting into everything and cheering us all up every day. She got a bit sickly for a while and we feared the plague had got her but it was just the usual baby stuff.
Haven't heard from Cousin Ned for a while. Heard he's spending a bit of time in the stockade for going AWOL. He just wanted to visit Polly.

Jack broke his shinbone and can't play baseball for a while. I have to deliver his papers while riding his bike because the carb on the pickup needs repair. Matt at the garage has ordered parts to fix it. I'll be doing him some favors to pay for it all.

Cissie met a decent guy and they're having a good time together. She's acting nicer now, which is a relief. hehe  Lucas is the strong silent type, just what she needs.

We lost the brown barn cat that you were fond of - hit by a truck and crawled through the ditch to the house looking for help, but didn't make it. She's buried behind the old horse barn.

I met a nice lady, a nurse. Lily. There was a benefit at the Baptist church for Fireman Ricky and she stopped in, even though she's an atheist. Well, so am I. She works at a hospital in the city but lives down here near the lake in a cabin that her husband built before he died. She loves the kids and they're easy with her.
It's nice because we never fight and we laugh a lot.
She has kindness in her eyes and a good heart.

Look, Bonnie, if you plan on coming home, you should tell me fast because me and Lily are starting to have feelings for each other.

Ok, truth be told - Ned isn't in the army and he's not in the stockade. He's in prison. Jacob and him robbed a store in the city. They waved guns around and got caught. There was only $27.35 in the cash register.  6 years for armed robbery.

Well, I guess I'd better close this now and send it off.
Let me know if you're coming back.

Hank

_____________________

 © Ellen Pepper 2023

Dear Bonnie

[Hank's Story #1]

Dear Bonnie,

I'm writing you now just to let you know how things are going.
The kids are ok.
Jack got himself a place in the Little League - shortstop.
The town chipped in to get him some gear, which was a good thing because God knows I can't afford it. hehe He's pretty good at baseball.

Sandra had a baby. Cousin Ned says he'll be a good daddy to it as soon as he gets out of the army. Sure, she's only 13, but she's always been the responsible one, hasn't she? Her and the baby will be staying by me until Ned comes home and marries her.

Cissie is going through growing pains and is a handful. Doing well in school but when she comes home...well, she's a firecracker, I gotta say. It ain't easy when she gets in a mood and starts smashing things. hehe

Lotta people dying around here. Some from the plague, some from the usual heart attacks and cancer. My friends Billy, Jason and Sam had the cancer - it took them quick. Too young to die.
So many funerals these days. I'm all funeraled out.

Some good news is that I got a job helping out at Grodin's apple farm. Doesn't pay much and it's seasonal, but it's easy work and pays the bills.
Jimmie at the feed store lets me pay on time so the animals are always fed.
Nellie foaled last Spring - didn't know she could still do that. She's old now.

I remember when we met in 5th grade - I thought you were homely and told you so. At first you were so mad. hehe You smacked me hard on the chest.
Then I saw your smile, so sweet that it calls home the angels.
On our wedding day, you tried so hard to be pretty that it made me tear up.
I thought we'd be together forever. I wanted to grow old with you.
You're a good woman, no matter what anyone says.
Sure, we don't see eye-to-eye on the ways of the world, that's normal I guess.

Anyway, my court date is coming up in a month. I won't go to jail this time because Buddy Williams said he's going to fix it with the judge - tell him about the kids needing me and stuff.

Sometimes I get tired, Bonnie. So tired.
Please come home.
Love you forever,
your Hank

 © Ellen Pepper 2022

'65 BUICK ELECTRA 225

by Ellen Pepper

Remember the day you tried to kill me?
  (In your precious '65 Buick Electra 225
with power: steering, windows, seats, locks.
And air conditioning; with automatic transmission.
Proudly rust-free!)

Yeah, it was a beauty. You treasured that car.
And you were going to drive it into the bridge,
with us in it,
just because I said that it was time for me to move on.
You knew that it was inevitable.
I'd told you so many times.

Anyway, I remember how you drove wildly through the streets.
Like a man possessed,
your white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel never faltered.
You shouted that you wouldn't live without me,
(even though you had been doing so for many months.)

I bet you wondered how I could remain so calm
 as we neared the end you had chosen for us.
How I didn't scream, or try to grab the wheel,
or even make an effort to talk you out of it.

All I did was say that you'd break the car.
Something inside your madness must have heard me,
because your foot slammed the brake pedal so suddenly,
that even you were surprised.

And then,
we talked of how it would be,
said our final farewells,
and you drove me home, safely.
We'd laugh about that day now,
if we still knew each other.

 

© Ellen Pepper 2022

GHOSTED

by Ellen Pepper

Well, I guess you're gone now.
No way to know,
 when there's been no word,
other than:
the closet door left open,
the empty hangers,
your guitar collection - missing.

No note on the counter,
a used cup in the sink.
The aching silence of
an abandoned home.

Sometimes people die without notice.
We get accustomed to losing them that way.
It happens, we're told.
Time eases the pain, we're told.
It was for the best, they say.

But when they yet live
and leave without a sound...
the pain never resolves into acceptance.
The living ghost cannot be buried
 and forgotten.

 © Ellen Pepper 2022

TAPESTRY of SILENCE

 by Ellen Pepper

 

Silence is not golden.
Its threads become a tapestry
of anguish,
 of confusion,
  of uncertainty,
   of hurtful memories,
      and sullen regret.

When a friend gave no forwarding address,
and left their stuff behind.

Why that man went away without saying goodbye.

Why she spoke only with others,
yet you were all unknowing,
 ... until hearing of her lies.

Questions will always be unanswered -
  a gaping abyss of puzzlement.
To what end?

What can be said when nothing was spoken?
No farewell, no explanation...
just a solemn walking away.
You'll learn to let go, to stop the haunting.

There, on the wall,
  is the tapestry of unknown,
   unspoken reasons.
It's woven with every silence.


________________________
 © Ellen Pepper 2022
Painting: Blue Silence - Mona Edulesco

Things Unsaid

by Ellen Pepper

There have been some things
that haven't been said.
Due to feigned interest,
  or lack of time,
they haven't been disclosed.

Youthful events, unsaid.
Of romances... unspoken.
Haunted childhoods.
Dreams and wishes,
  unvoiced.

Facts too hard to bear...
  kept quiet.

The silence will persist
until questions are asked
  and answered.

Where is the curiosity about a life story?
Where the desire to know more -
to know everything.

Things that happened
  shape the being that you behold.
There are some things
  that you should know.
______________________________
Copyright © Ellen Pepper 2022

SOME PLACES

 

by Ellen Pepper

 

Some places are just bad luck.

The family mansion with two addresses,
facing north and east,
 with a wide veranda,
  a double set of French doors leading out to it.
The secret room that reeked of despair and horrendous events,
The rust-stained wooden floors in there.
Some places are just bad luck.

An elderly sailor named Fred living in the room
beside the step-up bathroom that had two doors,
 one at either end.
Emphysema got him.
Crows, seen from the window over the tub,
 carrion-gorging upon the roof.
Some places are just bad luck.

The old lady named Olive who had a room and a kitchen on the ground floor.
She died in a fire there one year.
The entire house was destroyed and demolished.
A casino is there now.
Some places are just bad luck.

The ancient horse chestnut tree in front of the newer house on the east side.
A kid hanged himself there.
Some places are just bad luck.

The large, malodorous woman in the basement of the older site,
with her tiny, sickly daughter.
Baby was left alone too many times.
The infant died of neglect and starvation.
Some places are just bad luck.

The 50,000 dollars in Prohibition currency
found in the cellar's hidden speakeasy
after the big fire.
It went to the tax man.
Some places are just bad luck.

The drunken father who impregnated two of his teenage daughters,
one of whom was later murdered while hooking,
stoned on heroin in Detroit.
Some places are just bad luck.

Enough...

Some places are just bad luck.

_________________________________________

Copyright © Ellen Pepper 2022

Green Water

 by Ellen Pepper

 

Heed those happy times
we joy-walked beside the sea
at sunrise, laughing.

 

 © Ellen Pepper 2022

Just a Violet Vignette

 

by Ellen Pepper

 

Understandably anxious,

the gaudy, aged fortune teller with a tatty blonde wig

and garish red lipstick

gathers up her bag of magics and mysteries,

and boards the south-bound train.

In her mind, she's going to Byron to meet a man with mad skills.

In truth, her appointment is with Fate.

At Queen Street Station,

a burly man with bruised knuckles and grimy overalls

undertakes a devious ploy to rob a wizened woman

of a seat.

With her keen eyes, our Lady of the Night sees this

and reaches into her bag of talismans,

pulls from it a bent twig

and,with strong intent,

waves it in his general direction.

The man, jostled by the crowd,

falls to his knees with a deadly grimace

and dies.

Shocked onlookers at first gather around the corpse,

then part as the train enters the station.

Many dash off to catch their connections.

Our Lady stays in place,

mumbling about the strangeness of Time.

At Union Station, she disembarks,

crosses the platform,

and boards the train that would return her to her home -

a tent under the Gardiner Expressway.

Her name is Violet.

She once owned a bridal wear shop in Yorkville.

Copyright © Ellen Pepper 2022

THE ACCORDION PLAYER

 

 by Ellen Pepper

 

The accordion player came to visit last night.

He was standing outside my window when I got out of bed.

It was a lemony sunlight kind of Spring day.

His expression was melancholy. He looked much older.

I asked him what he wanted.

He said he missed me.

I told him that he had to leave -

that we weren't married anymore.

He wanted to be invited inside.

I refused.

He insisted.

Again, I refused.

He came closer to the window and I told him to go away...

because he was dead.

"Why do you think I'm dead?" he asked.

I told him that he was standing in mid-air,

outside a second floor window,

that he'd been dead and buried these 18 years,

and that this was just a dream.

 

© Ellen Pepper 2022

 

REBECCA

 

by Ellen Pepper

See that girl?

That girl, there.

With her sparkly pink tutu and worn ballet slippers;

faithfully executing her pliés and grands jeté every day,

because she wants to be a ballerina

when she grows up.

She's the girl who always carries a notepad

and a thick book to read at spare moments

because she also wants to become a novelist,

when she grows up.

That girl practises on her piano daily

because she wants to compose music for ballet,

that she'll dance to

when she grows up.

That girl is working hard to create a fulfilling life,

for when she grows up.

That girl is deeply loved.

That's the girl you see now,

bleeding and dying

on the icy tiles of her classroom floor

beside her mutilated and slain friends,

because someone came in with a gun

who had different plans for her,

her teacher,

and her classmates.

And there was no good guy with a gun to stop him.

Her name was Rebecca.

She was 10 years old.

© Ellen Pepper 2022