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834. Jenerator - 2/24/2008 8:51:59 PM 
The next time you see this, think of Ramón!
835. judithathome - 2/24/2008 9:58:53 PM I forgot what I said in Sex & Gender?
I think Magos meant she would have to link your story of actual work sexperience back to Sex&Gender because, alas, such a tale would be NONfiction, and this is the Fiction thread. In other words, if you posted something "non-fiction" i. e. your real life adventures...it could no longer qualify HERE as fiction.
I thought hers was a clever little post, myself. ;-)
836. alistairConnor - 2/24/2008 10:19:42 PM The next time you see this, think of Ramón!
No Jen... I'll think of you.
Mouth-watering! 837. Jenerator - 2/25/2008 12:09:46 AM Ah, thanks Judith! 838. Jenerator - 2/25/2008 12:12:31 AM What about this one, Alastair - you flirt!
 839. Jenerator - 2/25/2008 12:14:48 AM I find myself transported back to the restaurant circa 1993. I can see Ramón now, carefully placing this oyster on the ice saying, "Baby, your order is ready. I like-a to eat this one."
840. Jenerator - 2/25/2008 12:17:49 AM Too bad none of us had access to some trumpets to terrorize Ramón with!
 841. alistairConnor - 2/25/2008 12:53:28 AM And sure enough, the Desperate Housewives were there.
In the target age group of, say, 30 to 45, I found them almost all decidedly palatable. Mostly brunettes, which was a pleasant surprise, of varying skin shades. The overall impression was of an squadron of trim, prim Juliette Binoches aligned on the exercise bikes.
For my part, I was taken in hand by a skinny blonde trainer who showed me the ropes (and the weights) and jollied me along, introducing me to the variety of elaborate machines, numbered from one to twenty-seven. Most of them looked like some variation of a cross between a dentist's chair, an ironing board, and a birthing bed; a modernized Spanish Inquisition might use such apparatus, I speculated. Or the Gitmo people.
And from there, I confess, I rather took my eye off the ball. The Binoches seemed to disappear from my field of vision, and for the first few weeks, I was completely absorbed by the struggle to dominate those infernal devices. For it turns out that the fitness gym is an intensely narcissistic activity, a sort of mano a mano between mind and body, where the combination of real suffering and verifiable progress brings a sort of corporeal gratification that I had been entirely oblivious to. This reaches a sort of paroxysm in the case of one particular machine, which, I found, after a particularly painful set of exercises, induces a rather orgasmic sensation in certain muscles. I will not tell you which machine it is, gentle reader; you will have to seek it out for yourselves. 842. judithathome - 2/25/2008 3:26:23 AM What about this one, Alastair - you flirt!
Oh yeah...he's the flirt! Ha!
843. NuPlanetOne - 3/9/2008 5:25:29 PM I’m a bit blocked on the novel thing, let’s try a short story.
The Crane Beach Massacre
Not everyone involved understood exactly where we were going as we climbed aboard the open boat. I will never forget how it looked there in the expanded and willowy distance as anything shiny sparkled and beckoned in the intense moonlight as between wispy clouds the full moon shone bright. We hung back as Arthur explained the moon was rising precisely in the east as it should, though we didn’t know east from west. Just looking down the beach was distracting enough, and, as their chosen Captain, I was sizing up my would-be crew rather than watching the sudden taunting moon with the rest of them. I knew Arthur would wander off in a few minutes to scout around and perhaps just get all caught up in some visual explosion that only he understood as he has done so often recently on our other loosely organized trips together. Now he stood several yards away with his arms stretched skyward and said the tide was still ebbing. “It is ebbing. It is ebbing!” He said jumping around. Everyone followed him with their eyes and leaned in that direction and then looked about to each other’s eyes to see if it made any sense. Tracy’s eyes fell into mine and she kissed me intensely and when I started to kiss back she stopped and started brushing her hair. I told Arthur to go to the boat and see if it was seaworthy but he had sat down in despair and was shaking his long tangled hair on his lap. The boat was our only chance, I told them. They watched my words float in the air and nodded eventually in unison, except Daniel, who shook his head no, but that meant yes to him. Richard began speaking to me in Italian and I remembered I had taught him some simple phrases so we could have a code language if things went bad. Because if the trip went badly we could ignore the others and make it safely back to our starting point, or at least we could retrace our steps and find a way out. Tracy poked me and asked what Richard was saying. “Why did he ask you if the cheese was fresh?” She demanded. I held her and kissed her nose and she smiled and took my hat and put it on her head.
There were eight of us there on the sand where the tangled rise of beach grass we had crawled through seemed like a barrier from another world. But the dunes that stretched before us on this side of the rise appeared to us as our only way out and only direction to go. And there off in the distance was the boat. And I knew we must take it and set off to make the trip back home. Aside from myself, Tracy, Richard, Daniel and Arthur, were Debbie, Maria and Linda. Maria was my girlfriend, but she was with Daniel now, so I was with Tracy. We knew it had to be that way because that is how it went. Tracy and I were together when the whole thing hit, and we bonded. That bond is vital, even if it meant leaving someone behind. Besides, Maria never intended to come on this particular trip, so I was hoping she and Daniel had made a similar bond so I wouldn’t have to worry about her. Tracy was emotional and affectionate; Maria knew that, I just hoped it wouldn’t bum her out or drag her down. But she was strong and might even survive being abandoned should Daniel disappear or go all solo on her. Anyway, that was how it was, and all seemed well. So I decided the boat was the plan. There was plenty of room in it and the sides seemed high enough should we encounter any waves or rough seas.
844. NuPlanetOne - 3/9/2008 5:26:07 PM “What if some others come through the brush?” Linda asked looking back at the waving wall of grass and bayberry shrubs behind us. Linda was beautiful. She had a clear, light olive complexion and pitch black eyes that had a gleam of seduction always glistening just near the center. Maria said she had never bought an ounce of makeup in her life and those were the teeth she was born with. I didn’t know if that was significant but I often just stared at her like everyone else. “The others? No. They didn’t see our escape. They might come, but not soon,” I said as I thought her worried look made her seem more beautiful. She looked at me and half smiled and I forgot what I was thinking. “The plan,” Tracy said as she threw my hat in the air and we all watched it land softly upside-down next to her feet. “Oh. The plan. Right.” I told them we could take the boat around the sand bar and come out on the other side near the mansion. “The whaaahhhaaat?” Daniel drawled oddly like his words suddenly fell into another current that flowed along side the rest of us. “The mansion, the museum,” I assured him. “That’s where we started. Remember?” Everyone stopped looking at other things and each other and looked at me. The Stuart Mansion had belonged to the Crane family I was thinking, they named the beach after them, but didn’t say it because it looked like they all started to remember. “O.K.,” I went on. “We need to get down to the boat. You guys ready?” There were nervous vibrations and squinting and no one seemed inclined to move. And there was the drone and the blink. The drone was getting more sinister, it seemed, and was starting to have an actual location. Which was good. “It’s getting louder,” Maria said. I noticed she was sitting in front of Tracy now square legged and they were holding hands at arm’s length. “You can hear it, too?” I said with some relief. “Yes,” said Richard as he stretched his head up toward the moon. It looked like his neck was unusually long. “There,” he said as he pulled his head back to normal. “It is moving out along the water.” I rubbed my neck and asked him if the cheese was fresh in Italian. He zeroed in and just nodded. Then he looked past me at the swale before the rise and flinched like he saw something unpleasant. I turned my head and looked over my shoulder and it did appear that several bushes in the beach grass kind of all had menacing faces. I checked the moon then turned to him and he waited for an explanation. “You alright?” I asked. “Comes and goes.” He said. “Me too,” I assured him. 845. NuPlanetOne - 3/9/2008 5:26:36 PM It might have been the moonlight but the whole area seemed nicely lit like a bright summer’s day. Everyone had tossed their jackets and it was actually quite warm and comfortable. Shivering would have been a disaster. There is nothing worse than cold on one of these trips, especially if someone were to go overboard. I searched the scene near the water and realized the blink was now clearly visible offshore and I remembered it was the beacon that marked the outer shoal on this side of the lagoon. Little glimmering lights now moved gradually through the steel blue of the seascape carrying with it the drone of some kind of engine. We didn’t like that and hoped it would move away soon. Arthur sat head in his lap making a series of groaning guttural harmonies that sang in tune with the drone. That was a good sign. He was having fun now. I told him again to go check out the boat. His head came up like he was surprised there were others with him, then he slowly got up and began his way down. Linda followed and I watched them as they both touched the bow together and put their heads inside. For a second I thought the boat had taken them, but soon they stood facing us and waved and nodded steadily. I stood up and waited for things to level off then headed down the sand to join them. Suddenly I was there and was holding Tracy’s hand and realized she was with me. I was right. There would be plenty of room and it was big enough to crunch down inside to brace against any treacherous seas. The sand felt like it was pulling hard on my feet and the occasional slap of waves made it seem like we had been transported to another location.
It appeared the boat was lower at one end, so Tracy and I got in. Some kind of port hole toward the bow gave me a clear view of what would be in front of us and the bench seats were all intact with oars beneath them. There was some water at the bottom and sand but we could bail it easily and Tracy said there was a raised berth at the bow all dry with a cushioned seat. She sat on it facing me and I told her that when we launch she would have to sit aft with me. She laughed hysterically then went quiet. She said she loved that word, aft. She told me she was going to rest her head a moment on the port bow then laughed all over again and said she will remain aft. Arthur and Linda squeezed by me and joined Tracy on the bow seat. I climbed back out and called to the others. I thought something moved through the swale but I decided it was probably just a piece of trash blown by the wind. My shadow surprised me and I felt it wasn’t really obeying my movements but I kept waving and calling until they all stopped what they were doing and looked down at me.
846. NuPlanetOne - 3/9/2008 5:27:12 PM It’s a good boat I yelled at them. Come on down. Maria was draped over Daniel’s back and they began wrestling in the sand but sat up quickly after I yelled their names. Debbie was standing over Richard singing something and slowly moving her arms. Richard was looking at me the whole time but I wasn’t sure if he knew what I was saying. I never liked Debbie, or any of Richard’s girlfriends, but he was my best friend, and at least Debbie wasn’t threatened by that. She was actually very bright, but I had caught her lying about several things and Richard was stuck on her. That diminished my advice and she knew it. I hoped she wouldn’t be a problem on this trip. She finally stopped singing and Richard stood and after a long embrace they started down. I felt a squeeze around my mid section and Tracy’s face was looking up at me from my right hip. She slid up and in front of me and kissed me and it seemed to go on for a long time. She slid down and back into the boat and Maria was there. She was looking at me like she wanted to say something but Daniel pulled her by the hand and they stepped aboard the boat.
Richard tapped my shoulder and asked me in Italian to eat the clump of seaweed he was holding. It looked like a wet mass of tangled wires and I just took it and shook water all over him and Debbie. They didn’t notice and just climbed clumsily on board near the bow. I stepped back in and took my place on the bench furthest aft. I told them we need to balance the craft and sit two to a bench. “I shall come astern Captain, oh my Capeetan!” Tracy bellowed and zig-zagged down to me as the others got two to a bench. Maria grabbed her leg as she went by and Tracy looked down and her mane of brown hair slapped across Maria’s face. They smiled a weird smile at each other and Maria put her arm across Daniel’s shoulder and sat quietly looking forward. “O.K., that’s good,” I told them. I told Arthur who sat in front of me to grab an oar and pass it back. “Will we go now?” Linda asked from the bow cushion where she had hopped up to face us. I had a flash of a vision that she would be connected to the bow like a colorful and wood carved mermaid and would rise and fall as we bounded through the waves. It looked like she was reaching into the vision as she spoke and now everyone was staring at her too. And it got quiet. The drone was audible but only slightly and the port hole off Linda’s right shoulder allowed the blink to filter in and lit her hair aglow at the same intervals. A wave hit the hull and we felt it ride down the sides of the boat and made it shake a bit. We fell back into our private world modes like back up on the sand and it was getting comfortable and safe again. Tracy was telling Arthur about the time she got lost all by herself during the camping trip early in the summer but Arthur was busy guiding Linda over to his bench using one of the other oars. “Remember that, Captain?” She asked me now and added, “That wasn’t a fun trip for me. But this is good. I won’t get lost.” I told her no one gets lost when I organize a trip. She took Linda’s other hand and helped her down to the bench.
847. NuPlanetOne - 3/9/2008 5:27:46 PM Now it was good. Daniel had lit one of his pocket candles and stuck it up on the bow seat. It gave the boat the aura of an amphitheatre. The moon was gone behind a marvelous thickening of darkish clouds and I wondered what they called clouds at night. Beams of light didn’t seep out like in day time but actually seemed to seep in. And while I was watching, a sudden flash behind it all made it swell like someone had blown an enormous breath at it. Strange, I thought. Excellent sight. Daniel was leaning on his elbow at the bow seat and Maria did the same and watched the candle. A bigger wave hit the bow and rushed quicker along the sides and crashed further behind us. “I’m going to push off,” I said and took the oar and stuck it in the sand behind the boat. There was water over the sand. I felt another wave and everything was flowing by me toward the shore. It felt that now we were moving and I sat back down and told Richard to man his starboard oar and for Daniel to watch the port side. Daniel spun and looked over the port bow and said all was well. Richard looked confused so Tracy reached down and brought up his oar. It looked jagged but he took it and laid it at his feet. I leaned over my port side and saw the beacon. I would keep it there I thought and navigate to the right of it. Debbie said she thought someone up on the beach was waving at us. “I knew they would come,” Linda said. “They will ruin everything.” I said forget about the others, we will sail over to the mansion and be there before they get back. “You think so?” She said surprised. “How far is it?” She was getting a panicky tone to her voice. “Oh, I love you Linda!” Tracy said as she reached over and pulled Linda onto our bench. She rubbed her head and said soothing things. Linda looked up at her and said she was fine. I was watching the beacon and a sudden crack of light snapped out of the darkish hole near the moon. Everyone jerked and look over the port bow. “Whooooaaaa, I mean whoaaaaa!” said Arthur. “A storm.”
I thought, we couldn’t have gotten too far. Then the rain was upon us. And a shattering boom then flashes. Things had an intermittent orange red outline, and the whiteness in the light bursts was like someone was taking snapshots with some bizarre omnipresent flashbulb. But the rain was warm. And there was the intense smell of pure ocean and each time a wave hit the hull the sides of the boat rattled yet the bottom remained solid and fixed.
848. NuPlanetOne - 3/9/2008 5:28:19 PM Maria was yelling but it was hard to understand her through the commotion and the harder I tried to hear her, the more distant the sound became. Arthur slid from side to side on his bench swinging his oar into the sea on each side of the boat. He had a wild look on his face and a jubilant smile and I knew he wouldn’t let me down this time. He would keep the boat steady, and Tracy had Linda. But I was worried about Maria. I waited for Arthur to stop as his side to side motions and through the slanted rain made out Maria leaning over the starboard bow looking into the water. No sign of Daniel. I searched my side for the beacon and could only see rain pelting the water like little bombs hitting the surface of a violent whirlpool. It was something to see and I got lost in it for an eternity and wanted to stay there, but I needed to find Daniel, or at least get Maria aft to safety. I pulled my head to look her way and saw a wind tossed spray of surf plummet out of the hull and felt a huge wall of water go whooshing down the length of the craft. Maria was turned my way now and holding fast to the top edge of the boat. She was drenched and I moved slowly along the starboard wall until I reached her. “I lost Daniel somewhere,” she said. “I think he went over.” I pulled her onto the bench in front of Richard and Debbie who were just sitting in a clench under Richard’s sweat shirt and they were singing a muffled version of ‘All Along the Watch Tower.’ Maria buried her head under my chin and held on fast. I turned and poked Richard and asked about Daniel and he pushed at me with his hand without saying anything. That was it, Daniel was gone. I spun around holding Maria tight and Arthur was still busy keeping the boat from spinning out of control. I screamed his name and felt Maria dig her nails into my sides as the noise came out of me. Arthur stopped briefly, looked toward shore, then at the sky, and laughed like an amused lunatic and said, “aye aye, Captain, on course, on course!”
So I sat. Then, after a long time, it seemed, the rain stopped suddenly. And like the vacuum after a retreating evil invasion, the confusion and intensity that got sucked out with it, made the memory of it seem a bit ridiculous. Maria purred like a kitten as if she were a bundle left in my arms by a distraught and desperate mother. And through the port hole I caught sight of the beacon as it pounded like a heart restored to full vigor after a grueling attempt to save a dying heart attack victim. At least the boat stayed the course, I thought. But I knew we must have been further away from the shoal than I had thought. We might have to abandon ship and just swim back to shore. If Daniel had dared it, I knew it was safe. He was not one to risk anything, and that meant it was still a short swim. And it was calm now, as a balmy wind was already drying my hair and the shoulders of my shirt. The choppiness and slams were gone from the water and although the boat was still intact, turning it seemed somehow impossible. I explained to the others what we must do and they nodded. Arthur said he would test the waters and went off the back without hesitation. Tracy and Linda popped up and hung like puppies on the aft wall and watched. Maria’s head came up and watched them over my shoulder then she put her face in my face and smiled. We kissed and everything went warm.
“He says it is easy,” Linda said as she went over and into the water. Tracy looked at me and Maria with a puzzled look and stared, then went over following Linda. Debbie was standing now in front of Richard shaking her hair and they were talking intently about the colors in the flashes during the storm. I hated to admit it, but they really enjoyed each others company. I wanted to tell Maria about what I saw when the rain was hitting the whirlpool, but I knew she wouldn’t get it. She said it was a massacre.
Back on the beach, I awoke first. Richard and Debbie were locked comfortably in what looked like an old fishing net. Maria’s head was wrapped in her sweater and I got loose and walked to the edge of the surf. The boat seemed a lot closer, stuck there in the flats. Richard came up behind me. “You O.K.?” He said. “I’m fine, what was that shit?” I asked not really talking to him but wondering in general. “Orange Sunshine,” he said after a chin rubbing pause. Then added, “The storm fucked it up.” Daniel was wandering our way from the swale. Richard asked him what happened to him. “I’m done tripping,” he said and looked pale and tired. “Let’s go.” “Bad cheese,” I said in Italian.
849. webfeet - 5/22/2008 3:07:38 PM Cuckoo.
I'd like to point out how immensely entertaining (and gratifying-awful pun) all the last posts following my Lewinsky confession were to read. Lovely to hear from you, too, banks but I must correct you--I don't have a contract yet. I have an agent who is reviewing my first manuscript as part of a 2- book contract now and I am hotly working on a second and even a third.
I have to deliberately compartmentalize my life or else I will never get anything done. I am too easily distracted.
And now, wish that I could read more of the Crane Beach Massacre (I think I have actually been there. Mass no>?), but I have to go to the dentist, an awful appropriate punchline (delivered three months late) for my blowjob post.
And, jen, thanks for the post of les hûitres, a nice accompaniment to the fictive orgy.
850. webfeet - 10/14/2008 3:37:29 PM Where are the clowns? 851. NuPlanetOne - 10/22/2008 5:44:59 AM Well, been months since I reread the Massacre. I need to polish the ending and part of the middle. I’m so lazy and fiction is such work. Anyway, since you popped in here too Web, what is your connection to Crane Beach? Was that you waving to us from the swale? 852. wabbit - 11/13/2008 3:28:38 AM Oh.Mon.Dieu.
Not Mote fiction, but this is how I imagine our own webfeet must have been as a child, and how I imagine her own children will be. Wonderful.
Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo. 853. alistairconnor - 12/1/2008 8:19:17 PM So how about some soap opera.
He's a good kid. A bit scary sometimes.
His mother and I have been in a love cocoon for a couple of weeks, preparing for separation : she was to have two weeks with her family, then the day after her return, my kids and I take off to see my family, for a month.
I was all set to take her to the airport, Friday at lunchtime. But on Friday morning she called me in tears : the trip is cancelled. He's been thrown out of his high school.
This is a Catholic boarding school. In the final term of last year, we had to beg and plead to get them to keep him : three times he had been caught smoking, or with tobacco. Three strikes. You're out. They kept him, on probation. But this time, it wasn't tobacco they found in his pockets.
Panic stations. We repaired to my country estate for the weekend. The immediate question is to get this highly influenceable fifteen year old away from his hoodies. That's why we sent him to boarding school in the first place : it's out of the question to send him back to school in the city. (During the last school holidays, he sneaked out after midnight and broke some wing mirrors with his gang : they ended up in the cop shop overnight.)
Thankfully, my daughters are pretty cool and accepting about the whole commotion, and go out of their way to be inclusive and accepting with him. (We didn't tell them what they found in his pockets, but they probably guessed.)
I take him for a walk in the woods. He talks to me readily enough. So, where does he buy this shit? When he tells me about borrowing brass knuckles and a can of teargas to go talk to his dealer, I feel I'm out of my depth. It was all so much nicer in my day. Anyway, he's scared too, which is a good thing. Except that he doesn't seem to be resolved to cut out the adolescent risk-taking behaviour.
It seems unlikely that another boarding school will take him. We enviseage sending him to the public high school in the little country town, where my daughter goes. They would be in the same year, quite likely in the same class. (She's four years younger than him. They get on pretty well together.)
His mother is on the phone all weekend with her parents, brother, sister, everyone cries, the boy is furious with her for telling on him. She's supposed to lie to protect him. I talk to him a lot about what family is, how it works. How they love you, but you have to take care not to do things that reflect badly on them. He has no self-confidence, and a negative self-image, a lot of this comes from his status as a bastard. A well-loved bastard, but a bastard nevertheless. (This is technically incorrect, his mother divorced his father shortly after his birth, for good reason, but for her family, the father never really counted anyway, because he was a foreigner.)
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