You say Goodbye and I say Hello

“Samantha;” came his voice, whispering to me in the night and rousing me from my dreams.

I sat up to see him standing at the foot of my bed and met his eyes. The moonlight spilling in from the window gave him a strangely beautiful glow.

“Hello darling,” he said with a sad smile on his face.

“How did you get in here?” I asked. I was certain that I’d locked the door.

“I love you,” he told me.

“I love you too,” I said. Something about his smile and the way he was speaking told me that something was wrong. “What is it, Pete?”

“I came here to say goodbye. We have to stop seeing each other,” he said.

His words seemed to echo off of the walls as a cold quiet filled the room.

“I don’t understand,” I said, trying not to let the mounting sorrow overtake me.

“It’s not you, Samantha; you’ve been wonderful. It’s me.”

“Oh spare me the generic break-up bullshit, Pete,” I snapped at him.

He closed his eyes a moment, appearing to fight back tears of his own.

“What is it?” I asked again. “I don’t understand. Is there someone else?”

“No, there’s no one else,” he told me.

“Then what is it?!”

“I’m such an idiot sometimes. Oh God, how could I be such a fool!” His voice was thick with grief. “Sam, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I did something very stupid.”

“What, Pete? What did you do? Whatever it is, we can work through it…”

“No we can’t, babe; we can’t work through this one. There’s just no way.”

“Would you just tell me already?”

“Alright,” he said; taking in a deep breath. “Tonight was Ryan’s bachelor party. We went to a couple of bars. I don’t know how much I drank, I lost count at some point. I shouldn’t have been driving…”

“Did you hit someone?”

“No,” he told me. “No, I didn’t hit anyone.” There was a short pause before he continued. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Something jumped out in front of me,” he said. “I don’t know what it was, a deer or a dog… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I swerved to avoid whatever it was and ran off the road into a cluster of trees. I wrapped the car around a tree… You know, I thought it would hurt more than it did…”

“So… What? They got you for a DUI?” I asked. “How did you get away?”

“I didn’t, Sam. I didn’t get away,” He told me; the tears now running unchecked down his cheeks. “I just wanted to see you one last time before…”

“Before what?” I asked. I knew the answer, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He said, drifting backwards and away from me.

“Where are you going?” I asked, panic and sorrow feeding on one another. “Don’t leave me, Pete.”

“My sister should be calling you soon, Sam.”

“Don’t you leave me!” My panic and sorrow turned quickly to rage. “Don’t you dare leave me Pete, you son of a bitch! Come back here!!”

“I love you,” he said calmly.

“I need you!” I shouted.

The ringing of the phone from my nightstand awoke me. I opened my eyes to see the ceiling above highlighted with dim moonlight. My cheeks were still wet with tears; my body still digesting the intense emotions of the dream. Panic and terror and sorrow were mixing together inside of me like a cocktail of hysteria.

The phone rang again. I stared at it coldly, trying to will it to silence.

But it rang again.

Slowly, with a hand that would not be still; I reached for it.

“Hello?”

A page from Ducky Park

While you are disappointed that you can't run one of the roller coasters, you have to admit that it is pretty cool to run one of the rides, even if it is only a choice between bumper cars and the thing with the horses.

"I guess I'll do the thing where the horses go around in the circles," You tell him, doing your best not to sound too disappointed about the roller coaster thing.

"It's called a carousel, boy," He informs you.

"Right," you say; "The Carousel."

He nods approvingly. "That's where I started. Maybe you can work your way up through the ranks and be like me."

"I hope not," You say aloud, purely on accident. You immediately regret saying it and your face flushes red with embarrassment.

Thankfully Jake seems good humored; he laughs about it and slaps you on the shoulder. "You're a funny guy," He says, leaning on too close to say it, the liquor on his breath combined with the fumes from his poor oral hygiene nearly make you gag.

"Oh man," You say, "Could you not lean in so close when you’re talking to me?!"

"Sorry about that," He says to you, with a good humored smile on his dirty face. "My breath ain't the freshest, I know it."

"You're not kidding either, man. What the fuck do you do? Gargle with diarrhea? Damn!"

He laughs a little more and tells you how to get to the carousel. He tells you to send who ever is working there to him to be reassigned after he trains you for an hour or so.

You thank him and walk off in the direction he indicated. You're not sure why you're following his directions, you know exactly where the horse thingy is, but you figure that if he went through the trouble of pointing out a path for you to follow, you ought to follow it.

Your way would have been much quicker though.

You reach the thing with the horses that go around in circles and walk up to the guy operating the ride. He greets you warmly enough and you tell him what Jake told you to say. The guy practically hugs you, a huge smile spreads across his face and he thanks you over and over.

"I'm just so sick of this ride," He confides in you. "It's the same thing every time, around and around in slow circle after slow circle. I'm so glad you're replacing me."

You don't really know what to say to that, so you just kind of stare at him with a slack jaw.

The ride ends.

"OK, let me show you how you do this," He tells you. You follow him as he first walks over to the gate and opens it, then goes to help some of the kids who need help, get down. The kids all run to their parents who wait at the fence, and eventually the ride empties of all the kids.

He lights up a cigarette and stands there with you in silence.

"Now what," You ask after standing there for some time.

"Now we wait for a line to form and I can show you how to start the ride." He says, sighing deeply. "Man, I can't wait 'till I'm done training you on this. I really fucking hate this ride. I mean, it doesn't even draw a crowd. How many fucking rides are there that you have to wait for a line to start before it will run?"

"I don't know," You tell him.

"None," He replies, "This is the only fucking ride like that in the park. Except for Little Ducks, the kiddie area."

You stand in silence for some time, uncomfortable with the absence of conversation, you decide to introduce yourself. "My name is Ricky by the way," You say to him, holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Chris," He says, shaking your hand briefly. "You know what else pisses me off about this thing? No babes."

"No babes?" You ask.

"That's right," He says, hitting his cigarette deeply before continuing; "There's no fucking babes. You know how many chicks ride the coasters? Tons. And the water rides? Man, the guys that run the water rides have it lucky. There's always a hot dingbat who decided to wear a white shirt with no bra underneath.

"But the only babes you'll get on this ride are moms. Foxy moms. They're all right to look at, but when it comes right down to it, they're moms. They have kids and probably have husbands.

"Other than hot moms, the only babe you'll see on this ride is this blond chick who gets on the carousel once a week. She's gorgeous, perfect body, great rack, hot ass, and the most beautiful pouty lips you'll ever see."

He hits his cigarette again.

"Then what's the problem?" You ask.

"She's fucking retarded. Seriously. Mentally challenged. Not "slow learner" retarded or "acts like an idiot" retarded. Really, genuinely retarded. She picks her nose and eats the boogers and shit. They dethawed cavemen with more extensive vocabularies. It's a damn shame, too. She's a hot number. And her big body builder brother is always around, so you can't even try to take advantage of her."

"Damn," You say.

"Yeah," He replies, flicking his cigarette into the bushes behind the ride. "Looks like we got a line forming," he says.

You follow him to the entrance gate where two kids stand waiting. A third kid stands there with his mom, who urges him to get on the carousel.

"See what I mean?" Chris whispers to you.

"Yeah," You whisper back, "Any other ride and that kid would be begging to get on."

"No, I mean the moms," He says, "Look at the rack on her. Holy shit would I love to suck the milk from her teet."

You look at him like he's deranged... Mostly because you think he's deranged. "You're a sick bastard," You tell him.

"I know," He says. "But I'm on to better things soon, thanks to you."

The mom wins and the kid walks with his head bowed in shame towards the ride.

"Do you need help getting on one of the big horsies?" Chris asks him.

"Shut up, mister and start the ride," The kid retorts.

"We need four more kids before the ride can start, kid. Go pick your stupid horse so your mommy can see you ride around on it."

"Was that necessary?" You ask him.

"Hey Ricky, I don't go trying to tell you how to look stupid, so don't start trying to tell me how to treat the snot nosed little brats that get on my ride." He responds curtly.

"If no one else shows up after two or three minutes," He tells you, continuing with his lesson, "you tell that the carousel is about to start and that'll usually draw a few people."

"And if it doesn't?" You ask.

"If it doesn't you wait a couple more minutes and start it without them." He tells you.

"Ah," You reply, taking this information in.

Chris walks to the gate and cups his mouth with his hands. "Last call for the carousel!!" He hollers for all to hear.

One more kid comes straggling in.

"All right," Chris says to you, "Let's start this ancient bitch up eh?"

You follow him to the platform with the control switch on it and he shows you how to start the ride by moving a lever. He explains that it's on a timer, so you won't have to stop it, but in case of emergency he shows you the manual brake.

You notice a little knob beside the start lever and ask about it.

"Don't worry about that thing. It controls the speed. If you touch it, Jake will have your ass."

You help him start the ride twice before he parts company with you; wishing you luck. You wish him the same and wait for the kids to show up for the next ride. Somehow you imagined running a ride would be more exciting...

You go through the motions for a little over an hour, running the carousel four times for close to twenty kids. Chris was right, you decide, the carousel is a big pain in the ass.

At around five o'clock, however, a beautiful blonde catches your eye. She has a grin on her face that speaks volumes of happiness, and a body like the girls in the magazines your father keeps under his bed. She wears a plain dress and runs to the carousel with an overwhelming amount of excitement.

She runs up to the carousel and picks a horse, leaping up to straddle it. As she gets aback the horse, you cannot help but note the bareness of her ass beneath the dress. It doesn't appear that this foxy young temptress is wearing any panties at all. She looks up at you and smiles. You wonder if she caught you looking.

She makes only the second passenger on the carousel, so you know you have time to kill before more arrive and you have to start the ride. You want to go talk to her, but you're not really sure if she'll like you. You are a dipshit, after all.

Do you stand where you are and wait for more kids or go talk to her?




Interested in reading more? Ducky Park

Chewing Gum

It was on my dresser when I awoke. I just opened my eyes and there it was, a perfect cube wrapped in wax paper. I reached for it, took it into my hand and unwrapped it.

It was the color of a deep red, soft to the touch and smelling of factory-fresh tropical punch. I could feel the flash flood in my mouth and I knew that I had to have it.

I popped the thing into my mouth and allowed to rest briefly on my tongue before I began gnashing it with my teeth. My mouth exploded with a mixture of fruit punch and spit, my mouth became a punch bowl of goodness.

It made me happy.

I stood up with an overwhelming joy as I continued to devour the chewy cube of sweetness; each time I bit down another surge of fruit punch flooded my mouth; as though I was killing something that bled deliciously. I felt a bit savage for it, but it is necessary to sometimes give into ones primal urges.

I began walking, fruit punch orgasms bursting in my mouth. When I reached the doorway I stopped. I must have looked quite heroic in that moment. It was perhaps the most exhilarating sensation of my life. I felt triumphant.

I chewed happily as I walked until, with an experimental flip of my tongue I managed to launch the little wax goodness into the back of my throat. It became stuck back there, wedged in my throat and blocking air flow. My hands shot up quick to grip futilely at my neck. I was choking.

Was I even walking anymore? I couldn’t tell. I guess I was too focused on rejecting this chewy assassin too much to notice if I was still on my feet and moving. I must have been just stumbling blindly. I remember tears distorting my vision and I remember panicking a little.

At one point my foot seemed to have missed the ground and I found myself falling. I banged myself up good as I bounced and bumped and rolled down the long wooden staircase. Somewhere during the ride I blacked out.

The world went black. There was no pain.

A little while later I began to see light and my eyes fluttered open. I tried to focus on a crack in the ceiling, but it kept sliding away from me.

How long was I out?

The pain started to come back and my stomach got sick; the liquid vision getting to be too much for me to stand. I began gagging.

My feet rested on the stairs, twisted at awkward angles. Everything hurt. Nothing was at all pleasant about my predicament.

Well, almost nothing. I felt something cold and oddly shaped between my gum and cheek. It was the most brilliant sensation, but whatever it was tasted like the most exquisite fruit punch I had ever tasted. Most of my body wouldn’t move for me, but my jaw was working just fine.

My teeth pressed down on it and fruity goodness spewed forth. I continued to chew on this glorious work of yummy wonder while staring at the ceiling waiting for someone to come home and find me.

My saliva gushed with fruit sensation and I reveled in what happiness I could find. I figured I would only have to wait a few hours or so, and I could get through it so long as I had this tasty treat with me for the duration. Somehow, as I chomped on that chewy goodness, I still felt triumphant.

Fate and gravity had other plans for me. It fell into the back of my throat again. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.

The world went black and there was no pain.

Great, as if I didn't already have enough stories to try and finish up.

New novel I started on...




Smoke curls lazily into the air from the end of the joint. Unaffected by drafts or gusts of wind, it is free to make its own path, rolling in upon itself as it climbs to greater heights and, inevitably my ceiling. It’s hard not to admire the beauty of smoke, especially when the light hits it at the right angle. It drifts upward in a path its own; so free, so calming, so magnificently beautiful. It takes a road of twists and turns until it inevitably reaches my ceiling and dissipates.

The glowing ember is drawn slowly, eating away at the herb and paper to sustain itself. Eventually it becomes too hot and starts to burn at my fingers; I have to lift my balls up from the seat to drop it into the toilet. The embers’ last hisses of protest are quickly silenced as the water claims it.

I wipe my ass real quick and flush everything away, stepping directly into the shower afterwards. The blast of water is arctic cold and I have to adjust the hot and cold in a hurry. The water doesn’t take too long to move to a more comfortable temperature and I am able to just stand there and zone out for a while.

I reflect on what I’ve just done and start laughing when it occurs to me that I just took single the most spiritual shit of my life. And now I am going through the cleansing process. It’s all very funny; to me anyway.

Man, I’m such a fuck-up stoner. I didn’t used to be like this, though.

After I got out highschool I stopped smoking weed when I met a girl. I had fallen quickly in love with her. We were great together. She asked me to stop smoking and I did. Just like that I quit, cold turkey.

It wasn’t even a big deal. I didn’t go through any withdraw and I actually started to lose weight. I didn’t have the munchies all the time anymore and I wasn’t too lazy to get up and actually do things. My friends were all really disappointed with my decision, mostly because they used to get their weed off of me. I was the hook-up.

When I stopped smoking I realized that all those guys did was smoke weed. Getting high was fun and all, but it shouldn’t be smoked all the time. I didn’t visit them all that much anymore because I didn’t want to watch them all smoke pot and lose the ability to form coherent thoughts.

I spent all my time with my girl. My every thought was of her, she was everything to me. She actually believed in me. I asked her to marry me and she accepted. We moved in together, got an apartment and I started working while she finished up school.

I made decent money fixing computers and had a savings account growing for the wedding. The plan was to be married when she finished up school. We would live the rest of our days as husband and wife.

Then she started acting real distant and I heard that she had been sleeping around. I didn’t believe it at first, but one night I followed her to a school event bonfire thing and found out for myself. Maybe it sounds creepy, but I had to know. And they were right.

I saw her making out with some muscle bound jock mother fucker and left the party fighting back tears. I made it back to the apartment and starting packing her shit up and setting it by the door. I had plenty of time to write out a note, since I figured she be fucking for a little while. “I saw you at the bonfire but didn’t say hi. I packed your things for you.”

Then I stormed out of the apartment and went to drink the night away at some sparsely populated tavern. I didn’t return home for three days, staying in little motels and wallowing around in misery. I treated my condition with alcohol and tears.

The night has been replayed over and over again in my head countless times. There are many things that I wish I had done differently. Sometimes I think I should have walked up to her at the party and let her know that we were through, the verbiage of that fantasy varies from time to time. In other recounts I walked up to the guy, punched him across the face and knocked him over before telling her to fuck off. Other times I act as though I don’t know anything, then fuck her one last time and let her know afterwards; to use her as she’d been using me.

But it doesn’t matter how I play it back; it all comes out the same. I didn’t do what I should have done. I didn’t do anything, in fact. I just ran away. And when I got back she was gone. Gone from my life forever, for the most part anyway.

She called a few times, left messages on my machine; said she was sorry. She made some excuses, but I could tell in her voice that she didn’t believe that any of them would be effective in getting through to me; none of them enough to make me forgive or excuse her. Towards the end she actually a threw out a “we weren’t married yet anyway”. She said it to the machine anyway of course, I didn’t pick up. I just played the messages back. Over and over. Eventually she stopped calling.

I started drinking on a regular basis; started hanging out with my friends again; and started smoking weed again. Because I was smoking weed again, I realized that my friends smoked some swank shit, so I contacted my old sources and started hooking them up again.

Between the pot and the computer repairs I made enough to cover the bills and save up more cash. I added a bit here and there to the apartment, shit I’d never have been able to have had she still been with me.

I ran away and never got over the break up. I’m still not over it, really. It happened almost a year ago, and I’m still not over it. I haven’t seen anyone since; lady-wise. I haven’t even tried. I’m the fat kid again that everyone likes but no one believes in.

This is what my life has become. I’m just treading water sometimes, and more often than not I feel the undertow trying to pull me under.