Easy Rider

Did I ever tell you I used to ride a motorcycle when I was in my late teens?

Well, I did. And I miss it.

The rush of wind. The cool pockets of air brimming in the valleys. The wet, shaded smell of the forests.

I guess I've officially entered the drifting seas of midlife, because I'm back in the saddle, so to speak. Aine and I have reclaimed our old motorcycling days.

So, yesterday I went out into the countryside to do a little photography, and I ended up in a venerable churchyard. After visiting the oldest of the graves, I got back on the bike to head out.

That's when I noticed him under the speedometer.



Meet my young friend, Master P. Mantis. Seems he likes the bike too.

Just to give you a sense of scale, here is the bugger near the turn signal light, which is about the size of a dime.



Such a perfect little creature. He must be just large enough to be getting out into the world.

Perhaps these little visits are harbingers of larger things.

Perhaps.

He hopped from the bike, and I bid him a fine afternoon and evening.

I steered around him on my way back into the corn fields.

Café

        Bury my lovely
        Bury the lies
        Bury me under
        A thousand goodbyes

        --October Project, Bury My Lovely


she sipped her coffee
smiled with her lips against the cup
he loved that/
he excavated
she curled with warm blankets
and hummed notes
curiously hard to harmonize/
he turned up the volume
on a dare
and dream-devoured
every proof in her carnal geometry/
she stared into his colors
and sugared the lattice of her DNA

Ventilation, Part 5 (fictionalized history)

(In 1952, polio reached its peak in the United States with 21,000 cases of paralytic polio. The first polio vaccine was introduced in 1955. By 1965, the total paralytic cases had fallen to 61. In this fictionalized history series, we will be experiencing the aftermath of polio, before the dramatic triumph of a vaccine. If you're just joining us, go back to Part 1.)

Julia wanted to claw.

To pull everything off of her.

The back hallway glowed with sour light. She heard a curtain close, but couldn't see it. Something propped her head toward the water-stained ceiling.

She fought for air with a thousand pounds on her chest.

Whatever it was, she screamed for them to take the weight off.

But couldn't scream. Each breath fell short.

Like slipping.

Slipping.

Slipping down a mountain.

Below, she sensed a black, tingling bottom, and oh God, oh God, oh God, she didn't want to go.

Her mother's voice crashed down the hospital hallway. "I want to see her!"

A quieter voice. "Ma'am, please. You can't."

"I'm going!"

"Ma'am!"

Other noises.

Something like her father's voice. Sounds tumbling.

"She's in isolation! You can't go!"

Her mother shrieked. "NO!"

Tears flooded Julia's cheeks.

She gurgled mucus.

Pleeeeease! Mommy!

She retched.

Tried to curl and bring her hands to her face.

But her view of the ceiling barely quivered.

And her arms wouldn't come.

"What are you going to do! She can't breathe!"

"I told you. The iron lungs are full. They're full."

"But what are you--"

"Listen. Listen. I called up to the ward. One may become available soon."

"But--"

"One of the patients...." The quiet voice lowered even more. "He's very, very weak."

Her mother wailed. "Oh my God. Oh my God."

"Listen. Julia is a strong little girl. She'll hang on."

But the tide of darkness was rising up.

And the more she slipped, the more the pain turned fuzzy and remote.

She dreamed of closets.

Dirty mops in swamp water.

Frogs.

And butterflies kissing daisies.

The meadow was so nice until the armies came.

They marched in metal boots clanking, clinking, and stomping on her.

It should hurt.

It should.

But it was easy to sleep with the rhythm of the parade.


Back to Part 4.

Pilots

When captains of commercial vessels near inland waters, they surrender control of their ships to pilots who are trained in the changing conditions of their local waters.

Here is a map of the Chesapeake Bay and the Delaware Bay, and the man-made link between the two, the C & D Canal.



Now, there are pilots who operate in the Chesapeake Bay, and pilots who operate in the Delaware Bay. None operate in both.

So what happens when a ship jumps bays by traveling the canal?

That's where this little boat comes in (and it's sister).



As ships approach the town of Chesapeake City on the canal, pilots jump into these boats, which come up alongside. The outgoing pilot climbs down a long, long rope ladder to the waiting boat below, and the incoming pilot climbs up to relieve him or her.

It's a switch. Chesapeake for Delaware, or Delaware for Chesapeake, depending on the direction.

We had lunch along the water this weekend and watched for ships dwarfing the canal. But the pilot mooring stayed silent. And the little red boats slept in the sun.

Bernita Harris--Weirdly

Hop over to Book Roast to help sauté good friend Bernita and her story in Weirdly! The weather is fine.

Ventilation, Part 4 (fictionalized history)

(In 1952, polio reached its peak in the United States with 21,000 cases of paralytic polio. The first polio vaccine was introduced in 1955. By 1965, the total paralytic cases had fallen to 61. In this fictionalized history series, we will be experiencing the aftermath of polio, before the dramatic triumph of a vaccine. If you're just joining us, go back to Part 1.)

Julia set the stuffed animals aside.

She was tired of playing.

The rabbit saved the frog from the bird with the curving beak. The frog saved the rabbit from the squishy snake.

Boring. She was tired of talking with a lisp.

Downstairs, her mother was on the phone. Talking about her fever dropping, probably. The close call. The illness she never named.

Her bladder weighed on her. Kind of suddenly. It was full enough to go.

She slipped her legs from under the covers.

Tipped them over the edge of the bed.

And fell.

She moved to stand, but her legs moved like syrup. The touch of the hardwood floor on her skin felt prickly and numb.

"Julia?" her mother called from the bottom the stairs. She sounded scared.

Julia couldn't get those heavy legs under her.

"I'm, I'm okay," she said.

Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong.

But she felt the pressure let loose.

The urine flowed.

And nothing she did could stop it.


On to Part 5.
Back to Part 3.

Serving 'Em Juicy

I'm proud to announce the opening of a new blog called Book Roast headed by none other than world-hopping blogger Chris Eldin. It's a cool place (er, hot). Rather than promote books and share good stories the old-fashioned way, authors are invited in for a little roasting in good fun. Come over for the heat, the barbeque sauce, and an odd skewer or two. There's even a secret mascot, Miss Savannah Spitfire, who will drop in to mix it up.

Stop over at Chris's blog for a grand opening contest!!

I'm proud to be one of the Roast Masters standing over the fire pit. Much thanks to Phoenix Sullivan, Shona Snowden, Blogless Troll, and especially Chris for bringing new energy and excitement to the publishing industry.

Humidity

Night tucks like a sticky blanket over bare skin and kicked away sheets.

The moon illuminates the haze.

Through the open window, precious little breeze slides down the mountain. Deer thread the invisible trailways and blink their black eyes without sleep.

We stir and yawn.

Mosquito wings whir in the dew drop humidity.


(Picture: The midnight forest, Wayne County, Pennsylvania.)

Take a Breath

Sometimes love is as easy as life's breath.
         ~Sunlight waving in the fields.
Sometimes love grinds like a thirsty walk
         ~Wilting under a high, hazy sun.
A larger world is measured by hoof-falls.
Not much matters more than now.


(Picture: A courting carriage passing the back roads of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.)

Ventilation, Part 3 (fictionalized history)

(In 1952, polio reached its peak in the United States with 21,000 cases of paralytic polio. The first polio vaccine was introduced in 1955. By 1965, the total paralytic cases had fallen to 61. In this fictionalized history series, we will be experiencing the aftermath of polio, before the dramatic triumph of a vaccine. If you're just joining us, go back to Part 1.)

Julia whimpered in the dark.

"What's wrong honey? Did something happen?"

Julia shook her head.

"A nightmare?"

"I don't feel good."

She tightened. "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep. There's things in my head. They won't go away."

"Oh honey, come here."

Their skin touched, and she felt the heat.

An icy fear clove to her bones. "Do you have a fever?"

Julia sniffled. "I don't know. My throat hurts."

A cold. Just a cold.

Her thoughts slid back and forth in her head. She chased around images and tried to anchor them.

Aspirin. Cold compresses.

"Summer colds are miserable," she said.

"Mom?" The voice quivered.

Before she could respond, Julia heaved in her arms. Vomit hit her arm. Splashed all over her legs.

The girl gagged and coughed.

"Oh honey."

...not a cold not a cold not a cold.

"Take a deep breath," she said. "Relax."

Julia tried to pull her hair back and out of the way.

"Don't worry about that. Let's get this off you."

Her hands fiddled with Julia's nightgown. Gave up. Reached for a tissue. Dropped it.

"It's just something you ate," she said. "You got it out of your system now. You'll be okay."

She started for the bathroom. Turned around. Pulled at the bedspread. Looked at the mess dripping from her blouse.

The room sounded electric.

She wondered where the sound was coming from.

Julia cried.

She tried to move.

But all she could do was watch her.


Go back to Part 2.

Giants of the Chesapeake

Elk River--the northern end of Chesapeake Bay. In the colonial period, Elk Landing served as a vital port serving Philadelphia and the surrounding region.



The C & D Canal opened 1829, creating an all water route from Baltimore to Philadelphia. The canal still provides a vital link between the Delaware and Chesapeake Bays.



By the early 1900's, silting and shoaling destroyed what was left of Elk Landing as a usable port.



Today, the giants emerge from the dense summer haze. A lonely horn sounds as they turn in the channel and steam through the day.


(This weekend we swam with the giants of Chesapeake Bay. They didn't mind the photos, but I'm not sure they appreciated the jet skis buzzing around their bows. Crazy bastards. BTW, little did I know that ship spotting is something like bird watching. This ship, the "Atlas Highway," has spotting images around the internet. Here it is in the Panama Canal. The ship is a vehicle carrier owned by Hyundai.)

Ventilation, Part 2 (fictionalized history)

(In 1952, polio reached its peak in the United States with 21,000 cases of paralytic polio. The first polio vaccine was introduced in 1955. By 1965, the total paralytic cases had fallen to 61. In this fictionalized history series, we will be experiencing the aftermath of polio, before the dramatic triumph of a vaccine. If you're just joining us, go back to Part 1.)

Julia's mother washed the dishes at the sink. Suds swirled in the rinse water. Outside the window, a blanket of blue settled over the light of day.

She pinched the phone against her shoulder. "Did you talk to her?"

"No."

"Do we know how bad it is?"

"Not really. But they left with the ambulance. As far as I know, they're still at the hospital. I think they stayed with her overnight."

"My God," she said. "I can't imagine."

"I heard that she had trouble breathing."

She stopped washing. "Oh no."

"Was she in Julia's class?"

"No. Julia knows her to say hi, but they're not friends."

"Good thing school is letting out."

"Amen. That's all I can say."

A bird thudded against the dining room window.

She saw its brown body land in the flower bed.

The wings splayed motionless. The tiny beak scissored, but no air seemed to come.

"Mom?"

She turned.

Her little boy squinted in his mismatched pajamas.

"What are you doing up?" She muffled the receiver.

"Julia's crying."

"She is?"

"I can't sleep."

She uncovered the phone. "Sorry. I'm going to have to let you go. Something's going on upstairs. Keep me posted on what happens."

Before she headed for the stairs, she noticed the bird stopped struggling.


On to Part 3.

Salamander

Spotted Salamander
(Ambystoma maculatum)
A species of mole salamander living most of its life
underground. It can be found closer to the surface
in the cool, wet days of spring.

She licked hunger from the air.

Baptized it with teeth.

Gleaming and panting for blood.

His rock-vein hands squeezed her onto a precipice. She climbed his man lines, clawed him like a tipping mountain.

And she begged for it to fall.

Above them, the forest leaves with her spellbound legs, shivering, then clenched. Like roots deciding to splinter stone.

Images squirmed. Wet and living.

She thought of salamanders tunneling in the deep. And the nameless things they did there.

He crushed against her.

Salamanders poured and spiraled. Clutching. Nibbling a protoplasm earthquake.

The torn soil drank her scream.

He sank into her.

Some part of him gone.

In the dark of her closed eyes, butterflies wandered. Drowned in the smell of Earth, the colorful stars lived only in her eyes.

Ventilation, Part 1 (fictionalized history)

Early Summer, 1952


The round, Saturday sun slow-cooked into skin. The cool water lapped it away.

Julia dove for the first time. In the deep end.

Her mom watched. She even clapped until Julia glared her into smiles and silence. Splashes stained the concrete, then steamed away.

Julia's friends laughed and whispered about the lifeguard. Julia dove again and again, and sparkles jumping in the ripples.

The coming summer promised to stretch in oceans of chlorine.

School would end soon.

But they closed every public pool two days later.


(In 1952, polio reached its peak in the United States with 21,000 cases of paralytic polio. The first polio vaccine was introduced in 1955. By 1965, the total paralytic cases had fallen to 61. In this fictionalized history series, we will be experiencing the aftermath of polio, before the dramatic triumph of a vaccine.)