The old man who I never really knew and yet for years after his death I aided in cleaning the house he nearly suffocated with hoarding. Like sifting through sand for gold I dug through countless boxes of junk that he had held precious and priceless. Stacks of newspapers and empty cereal boxes reached near to the ceiling creating a chaotic city of rubbish. And did you know he had a sister? How appropriate to be named after her. This Katherine was a smart woman who lived to be 96 If I’m not mistaken. I recall visiting her in at the old folk’s home in Florida. A small room featuring one window open to a view of the tropical garden. Stacks of books in large print spines cracked and torn from the rough love of reading. Books full of crosswords and various paper puzzles lay in a wicker basket by her bed. And did I mention Katherine was always happy to see us? Did I mention that she spelled her name K-A-T-H-Y-R-N? Thus provoking the spelling of Katy to end with a Y. Why indeed because my mother put K-A-T-H-E-R-I-N-E on my birth certificate so according to the government that is my name.
In the front yard of my house is a tree whose branches I know as steps to a ladder. Looking straight up the sky becomes a mosaic where brown boarders frame various hues of green. It is a church of its own to the faithful. The patch of bark raw from my clumsy climbing feet is the welcome mat of an old friend.
Being outside, some distance away, the sounds of the storm from inside is muffled. Turbulent waters can calm suddenly sometimes. Think gently shaking water surface beneath the rolling dark grey clouds.
One tree can lift up to 100 gallons of water out of the ground and discharge it into the air in a single day, think of a heavy morning fog wrapped around you, think of shelter from the sun, shelter from a storm.
There is a point at which the hill is its steepest. A point when your face gets red and your breath gets short and you really have to force your legs to peddle up up up even when your muscles are screaming. There is an old man’s house and it’s such a place I rarely stopped or thought about. He had a perfectly manicured yard and no trees. He had flowers and bushes. He was a retired old black man and nothing more to me.
Until one day I was riding my bike and I stopped at this place within the steep of the hill. It is a strange land where the trees grow out sideways, and the bushes are cut with more care than my hair had ever received. No trees to cover, bigger driveways but not the bigger everything like you’ll find from the houses at the very top. This was some strange in-between place and even stranger yet I found a rabbit there.
Brown creature with flecks of gold in its fur. Its big eyes are glossy black marbles. Its nose bounces up and down as it chews on some grass very casual like. Its ears twitch to the side as it hears all of Queensbury, all of it at once. Acutely aware of many things it was like an omnipresent being.
On behalf of Kate E Lore as an independent freelance writer for Dayton City Paper I would like to make a formal retraction and sincerest apology to Folks of Dayton Music Festival to whom I have greatly wronged in my error a few weeks ago.
Rei continues to paddle us far ahead of the others. She pays no heed to the pace of Fort-he. He warns her that the canoe will flip. At several points we nearly crash into a log and he yells “Left Left!” or “Right Right!”
Suddenly it’s a tree that stretches across half the river with it’s web like branches. Long stick limbs like fingers stretch across the river and reach out from under water for us. The water itself had suddenly picked up speed and it all happens too fast. Fort-he is yelling and I fumble with my umbrella reaching for my paddle. Too late. The boat flips and we are in the water. I feel my umbrella pressed against my back as the half turned boat is before us is held tight in the might trees grip. I can see it being pulled further into that branchy web by the force of the current. Fort-he grabs the boat and stops it from being pulled in further with the panic strength of he-man on adrenaline. Rei does the same with silent determination and concentration. All this as I hold my twisted tea in the air and grab the cooler. Booze first you know. I’m quickly handed their two paddles. “Hold these they cost money!” I am told. I step back away from the battle. I am the keeper of items, our valuable treasure. I suppose my ability to maintain my umbrella, beer, and save the cooler proved my place on the team.
“We’re missing a paddle!” I inform them.
Much to my horror I realize the current is stronger there at the tree. Both Rei and Fort-he are being pulled into the branches with the sinking canoe. They are literally within the web of sticks and twigs getting sucked in deeper by the second.
Help arrives in the form of a well experienced father daughter team. The girl may be a teenager but they both seem to have done this before so we welcome the assistance. They walk right into the web of branches showing no fear. They grab the boat and help begin to pull it out of the monsters grip.
My paddle is found and it is handed to me. I am holding a large stack of things at this point standing right in the middle of the river as other canoes float past me. Someone yells to me that I am doing the most important job. I simply smile with gritted teeth for all the stuff I am holding requires balance to maintain.
They all work together and the canoe comes forward slowly but surely. I am handed another paddle. This is a forth paddle with a green end and a lighter wooden handle. “What?” It was found from within the beast. I suppose it was our prize for conquering the thing. Rei and Fort-he had lost their beers but nothing else was lost. A new paddle gained seemed quite a triumph in my eyes.
It took us a while to get back on the river. Much thanks to our family team saviors. Rei is focuses her energy into paddling and I help this time with the cool new paddle. In no time at all we have caught up with the others who had passed us during the chaos
I cannot think of anything that happened on Tuesday so my only conclusion can be that nothing happened on Tuesday at all. Twas a negative void in all the universe in which nothing occurred and some vast intergalactic being gained so so many days from living creatures that he added onto his own life certain immortality. This unknown supreme being stole everyone’s Tuesday and thanks to it shall eventually out live the universe itself. His curse shall be to sit alone and bored in the leftovers of all that was; cosmic stew and space decay shall stain his sneakers a nasty yellow brown.
Weaving past bored children and excited grandparents we go around the corner to be confronted by a giant smokey the bear. This bear is clearly hand made. Something in his face is off which gives you an uneasy feeling. Like who is this deformed imposter pretending to be smokey the bear?! The worst thing of all was the draw string mouth of obvious puppeteering. The voice of the bear was coming from the very obvious speaker near by. This was the most average voice of the most average guy I have ever heard. He must be an OSU student perhaps volunteering because it looks good on the resume. Anyway I was going to pose for a picture in front of the plastic monstrosity when the voice begins to directly address one of the children passing by.
How does Satan know his name? I wonder. I watch in horrified amusement with less shame than looking at a car accident. I have no idea where the voice is coming from, which I will give them credit for. However the receiving mic seemed to be faulty. The giant fake bear of evil and doom asked the child “What’s your favorite part of the fair so far Brian?” The little boy nervously began to answer and midway through speaking the bear yells “That’s great I liked that too!” Obviously the bear truly did not hear him. Smokey the bear is a liar and a fraud! I no longer desired any sort of photo with the creature. We moved on. The blind and deaf the beast was being fed information. The false profit knew nothing of our coming and going. It appeared that he only ate children’s souls so we easily escaped unharmed.
Oh I know Badtz and I went to Circus. They do a free ladies entrance EDM night. They even give you one free drink as a girl.
I like Circus it’s cool. They have people making paintings while the DJ performs. The art is always expressive and has such movement it always seems to go great with the music to me.
Inside the music was steady rhythm and the lights danced in pulsing colorful synchronization. The people moved right along with with the motion of lighting effects and sound vibration frequency. I was under the sea in a sea of human beings. We danced on stage. We danced in circles around a guy and made plans with strangers to have a party at my apartment.
I ran upstairs for no reason. We went outside. I felt like I was going to throw up, I felt like I had a fever, I felt very happy I had a wonderful time.
Skullys is a fun bar and a fantastic venue. There is a good dance space, upstairs is cool, it’s easy to request a song, and the outdoor space is nice too. The bar is so so priced and usually there is a cover charge. Despite everything I still find the crowd on ladies 80s night to be delightful.