Brick dreamed of the night his wife gave him the news. Everything was as he remembered it. Except this time they were the only ones in the restaurant. And for some reason he was eating grits, which he hated. And it was at Church’s Chicken instead of Red Lobster.
But the conversation was the same. She started off with the crying and the apologies. Then she transitioned to making those feeble excuses movie characters make. Finally, she offered to let him run around on her for a while, as some kind of restitution. But he would have none of that. He had never cheated on anyone before and wasn’t about to do so now. Brick had plenty of flaws: Sometimes he drank too much. His temper was terrible to behold in the right circumstances. He wasn’t very sentimental. Gambling addiction. Not much of a cook. Almost never flossed. Fidelity, at least, was a quality he could choose to have.
As he finished his 1st beer, which had started him on the road to destruction that fateful evening, he refused her offer. She seemed to will her eyes dry then, as she had done in real life. Then came the anger. She berated him for the better part of an hour, listing all the aforementioned flaws and many more. It had been embarrassing then as it was now, even without an audience. His reaction was the same: staring at the table and finishing beer after beer, which in the dream seemed to come out of nowhere. Originally, he had finally stood up, threw a hundred dollar bill on the table and cut her off with, “You know what? I’ll just walk back to the base. Maybe I’ll stop by the motor pool…” and walked out.
But now his dream suddenly became lucid near the end of her tirade. As soon as he knew it was a dream, the scenery changed. They were still at a table, but now they were in the Death Star, where Emperor Palpatine had died. Brick slowly and methodically stood up, picked his wife up over his head, and walked to where Luke Skywalker had been saved by Darth Vader. Laughing like a madman, he tossed her into the reactor shaft, and she fell screaming into the cold, metallic abyss.
“Hehe, sweet,” he muttered weakly, before his eyes were even open, as he slowly began to wake up. He opened them a crack and the flood of light brought with it a pounding headache.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Part 5
“You talk,” Brick finally said, flabbergastedly, when his own speech returned.
“I do indeed,” replied Humphrey.
“Why didn’t you speak before?” asked Brick, leaning back against the trunk of a tree.
“I find one learns more by listening, especially one of my…condition. People tend to let their guard down in the presence of a mute one-eyed hunchback.”
Brick stared at the fire a moment. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a hip flask. He unscrewed the top, took a long drink, and tossed it across the fire to Humphrey, who caught it in the air.
As Humphrey drank, Brick asked him, “So how’d you end up down here? That ain’t no jungle accent.”
“I was born here.” He tossed the flask back to Brick who killed it. “My parents were missionaries. When I was born, many thought they were cursed. As my deformities became more pronounced, the villagers became increasingly hostile toward me. When I was 10, I took up juggling and was subsequently accused of witchcraft. A group of villagers came to our house to take me away. My father, always a man of peace, met them on the steps with a shotgun. He took down a couple, but they overpowered him and killed him. However, his actions bought my mother and I just enough time to escape. We fled to England.”
“Why did you come back?” asked Brick.
“Revenge. But those that killed my father were dead by the time I returned. A sickness had passed through the village and killed many. I suppose it was they who were cursed. I thought about digging up their skeletons and juggling the bones, for some kind of symbolic vengeance, but I decided against it.”
Brick smiled, remembering the skeleton festivals of his youth.
“Soon enough,” continued Humphrey, “I fell in love with a village girl and married her. And now, 13 children later, here I am.”
“You helped me escape,” said Brick. “Will your family be in danger?”
“I do not think so. My wife is a cousin of the chief, and while he is fairly unforgiving to outsiders, he is loyal to his kin. Nevertheless, I will go back to rescue them.”
“As I will go back to rescue the gold.”
“Ahhh, the Gold of Churromatsu.”
“You’ve heard of it. Do you know where it is?” Brick’s eyes lit up.
“No, but I may be able to find it. If you help me get my family out, I will help you find the gold.”
Brick pondered that a moment. “Deal,” he finally responded. “I’m not much for heroics, but I’ll make an exception this time. Now, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What did you do while you were in England?”
“Well, when we first arrived-ARGH!” Suddenly, two hands came out of the darkness and pulled a burlap sack over Humphrey’s head and yanked him back. Before Brick could react, the same thing happened to him. His hands were soon zip tied behind his back and someone was holding him from behind. Someone else stepped in front of him.
Brick heard a familiar voice say, “Clarence Brickhausen. Do you know who sent me?”
“Uh…your mama?”
The man chuckled. Then something hard and flat hit Brick square in the face, and the last thing he heard was the crunch of his nose breaking before he lost consciousness.
“I do indeed,” replied Humphrey.
“Why didn’t you speak before?” asked Brick, leaning back against the trunk of a tree.
“I find one learns more by listening, especially one of my…condition. People tend to let their guard down in the presence of a mute one-eyed hunchback.”
Brick stared at the fire a moment. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a hip flask. He unscrewed the top, took a long drink, and tossed it across the fire to Humphrey, who caught it in the air.
As Humphrey drank, Brick asked him, “So how’d you end up down here? That ain’t no jungle accent.”
“I was born here.” He tossed the flask back to Brick who killed it. “My parents were missionaries. When I was born, many thought they were cursed. As my deformities became more pronounced, the villagers became increasingly hostile toward me. When I was 10, I took up juggling and was subsequently accused of witchcraft. A group of villagers came to our house to take me away. My father, always a man of peace, met them on the steps with a shotgun. He took down a couple, but they overpowered him and killed him. However, his actions bought my mother and I just enough time to escape. We fled to England.”
“Why did you come back?” asked Brick.
“Revenge. But those that killed my father were dead by the time I returned. A sickness had passed through the village and killed many. I suppose it was they who were cursed. I thought about digging up their skeletons and juggling the bones, for some kind of symbolic vengeance, but I decided against it.”
Brick smiled, remembering the skeleton festivals of his youth.
“Soon enough,” continued Humphrey, “I fell in love with a village girl and married her. And now, 13 children later, here I am.”
“You helped me escape,” said Brick. “Will your family be in danger?”
“I do not think so. My wife is a cousin of the chief, and while he is fairly unforgiving to outsiders, he is loyal to his kin. Nevertheless, I will go back to rescue them.”
“As I will go back to rescue the gold.”
“Ahhh, the Gold of Churromatsu.”
“You’ve heard of it. Do you know where it is?” Brick’s eyes lit up.
“No, but I may be able to find it. If you help me get my family out, I will help you find the gold.”
Brick pondered that a moment. “Deal,” he finally responded. “I’m not much for heroics, but I’ll make an exception this time. Now, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What did you do while you were in England?”
“Well, when we first arrived-ARGH!” Suddenly, two hands came out of the darkness and pulled a burlap sack over Humphrey’s head and yanked him back. Before Brick could react, the same thing happened to him. His hands were soon zip tied behind his back and someone was holding him from behind. Someone else stepped in front of him.
Brick heard a familiar voice say, “Clarence Brickhausen. Do you know who sent me?”
“Uh…your mama?”
The man chuckled. Then something hard and flat hit Brick square in the face, and the last thing he heard was the crunch of his nose breaking before he lost consciousness.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Part 4 - From Mario E. in La Quinta, CA
“There we go.” Brick finished making the fire that had taken him a couple of hours to ignite and light. He probably should have paid more attention when his training officers in the Army were instructing them how to start fires. Taking the fresh fish he and Humphrey had caught, he put them on a spit over the fire (since he seemed to show a disdain for “Hunchie,” “Cyback,” and “Hunchclops,” so much so that he wouldn’t interact with Brick the second half of the day, he redubbed him Humphrey).
“Ah, Humphrey. Such a nice view out here tonight. You can’t get views like this of the stars in many places back in the states.” Humphrey did his usual sort of nod that Brick would take for him sort of understanding him. Brick was beginning to feel a kinship with Humphrey. Not so much for the fact that he alone controlled the elephants, their preferred method of jungle transportation. Or that he knew the jungle like the back of his hand, essentially being like a GPS without that annoying “Make the next available u-turn…” bitch squawking in his ear. Nor was it because he had been the only thing standing between safety and the flesh being eaten off his bones by potentially cannibalistic half-naked rich natives...even though it really helped.
No, it was because for some reason Humphrey was the closest thing he’d had to a brother since his own kin’s sudden unexplainable disappearance. He’d spent years trying to find his brother. The last thing he’d ever heard from him was that he was joining a secret government program, and that he didn’t know how long it would be until they would hear from him again. But that was twenty years ago, and Brick sort of gave up hope looking for him. Still, there was always that little bit inside of him that hoped beyond hope that one day he’d see him again.
For right now though he couldn’t be thinking like that. He had to feed his hero that had helped him for the past week from being cooked like the rainbow fish in front of him. It seemed pretty cooked by now. He took it off the spit and gave it to his pal. Humphrey took one bite and just by the look on his face, it probably wasn’t cooked enough. But Humphrey seemed to have a really high tolerance for things that most other people would not stand. Brick sort of felt bad for the guy. So before he was done eating his fish, Brick offered Humphrey his whole uneaten fish. Humphrey began to push it away, sort of indicating he would feel horrible for eating both fish, but Brick was stubborn. Humphrey reluctantly ate it while Brick stared at the stars.
“You see those stars right there, Humphrey? Those all together make up Scorpio, you see? S-C-O-R-P-I-O.”
At first Humphrey looked at him blankly and then with a questioning look. Brick took this as his cue to explain again. Slowly.
“S-C-O-R-P-I-O. THOSE STARS ARE S-C-O-R-P-I-O.” The next thing that happened made Brick more surprised than he had ever felt in his life, even more so than when he found out his great grandfather stole Teddy Roosevelt’s elephant gun, when he figured out his dad was actually gay, and when he learned that his “mom” was actually a dad, combined.
In the most eloquent British accent Brick had ever heard in his entire life, Humphrey said, “My dear lad. I do believe you are mistaken. That is actually Orion’s Belt and part of The Big Dipper.” Brick was left speechless.
“Ah, Humphrey. Such a nice view out here tonight. You can’t get views like this of the stars in many places back in the states.” Humphrey did his usual sort of nod that Brick would take for him sort of understanding him. Brick was beginning to feel a kinship with Humphrey. Not so much for the fact that he alone controlled the elephants, their preferred method of jungle transportation. Or that he knew the jungle like the back of his hand, essentially being like a GPS without that annoying “Make the next available u-turn…” bitch squawking in his ear. Nor was it because he had been the only thing standing between safety and the flesh being eaten off his bones by potentially cannibalistic half-naked rich natives...even though it really helped.
No, it was because for some reason Humphrey was the closest thing he’d had to a brother since his own kin’s sudden unexplainable disappearance. He’d spent years trying to find his brother. The last thing he’d ever heard from him was that he was joining a secret government program, and that he didn’t know how long it would be until they would hear from him again. But that was twenty years ago, and Brick sort of gave up hope looking for him. Still, there was always that little bit inside of him that hoped beyond hope that one day he’d see him again.
For right now though he couldn’t be thinking like that. He had to feed his hero that had helped him for the past week from being cooked like the rainbow fish in front of him. It seemed pretty cooked by now. He took it off the spit and gave it to his pal. Humphrey took one bite and just by the look on his face, it probably wasn’t cooked enough. But Humphrey seemed to have a really high tolerance for things that most other people would not stand. Brick sort of felt bad for the guy. So before he was done eating his fish, Brick offered Humphrey his whole uneaten fish. Humphrey began to push it away, sort of indicating he would feel horrible for eating both fish, but Brick was stubborn. Humphrey reluctantly ate it while Brick stared at the stars.
“You see those stars right there, Humphrey? Those all together make up Scorpio, you see? S-C-O-R-P-I-O.”
At first Humphrey looked at him blankly and then with a questioning look. Brick took this as his cue to explain again. Slowly.
“S-C-O-R-P-I-O. THOSE STARS ARE S-C-O-R-P-I-O.” The next thing that happened made Brick more surprised than he had ever felt in his life, even more so than when he found out his great grandfather stole Teddy Roosevelt’s elephant gun, when he figured out his dad was actually gay, and when he learned that his “mom” was actually a dad, combined.
In the most eloquent British accent Brick had ever heard in his entire life, Humphrey said, “My dear lad. I do believe you are mistaken. That is actually Orion’s Belt and part of The Big Dipper.” Brick was left speechless.
Part 3
His guide, and now co-conspirator, nodded. He had helped Brick escape, which probably brought some kind of death sentence in the village. Maybe some torture along with that. Brick was grateful. Grateful and exhausted.
They rode for what seemed like hours, to the outskirts of the jungle. Beyond this, the elephants would go no further. Fortunately, they had long since lost their pursuers. The two dismounted next to a river and Hunchie bid a silent farewell to the huge creatures. Brick sort of awkwardly waved goodbye, but the elephants seemed to hate him as much as the chief did. It probably had something to do with him killing their leader. As Hunchie watched them disappear into the jungle, Brick drank his fill of river water and filled his CamelBak. Hunchie pointed toward the mountains in the distance and they started following the water toward them.
They rode for what seemed like hours, to the outskirts of the jungle. Beyond this, the elephants would go no further. Fortunately, they had long since lost their pursuers. The two dismounted next to a river and Hunchie bid a silent farewell to the huge creatures. Brick sort of awkwardly waved goodbye, but the elephants seemed to hate him as much as the chief did. It probably had something to do with him killing their leader. As Hunchie watched them disappear into the jungle, Brick drank his fill of river water and filled his CamelBak. Hunchie pointed toward the mountains in the distance and they started following the water toward them.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Part 2 - From A. Kim in San Diego, CA
Brick managed to put some distance between himself and the warriors but he could still hear them chanting as if they were right behind him. It sounded as if they were chanting "Seize him! Seize him!" in their language, over and over again.
There’s no time to stop and rest, he thought to himself. Brick may be a veteran but his 44-year-old legs weren’t what they used to be, and he felt as if they would give out at any moment.
Suddenly, a deep rumbling drowned out the warriors’ murderous chants. Brick felt the earth move beneath him. It couldn't be an earthquake because unless Discovery Channel was wrong, there were no fault lines in that part of the world. Suddenly he heard an elephant call. Brick glanced back to see the herd of elephants catching up to him. There was one elephant up in front leading the pack, and there was an oddly shaped man, if you could call him a man, riding on top of the elephant. Judging by the figure Brick knew it was Hunchie.
Brick continued to run at full speed but now his focus was only on one thing-How did Hunchie even manage to get on top of the giant elephant? As soon as he thought that, Brick was choking on a cloud of dust. Then all of a sudden he felt his shirt being grabbed by a hook, and he was hoisted on top of the elephant. Hunchie had managed to steal a special weapon from the village. The weapon resembled a fishing line but it was much larger.
"Thank you, brother," Brick managed to say after he came to his senses.
There’s no time to stop and rest, he thought to himself. Brick may be a veteran but his 44-year-old legs weren’t what they used to be, and he felt as if they would give out at any moment.
Suddenly, a deep rumbling drowned out the warriors’ murderous chants. Brick felt the earth move beneath him. It couldn't be an earthquake because unless Discovery Channel was wrong, there were no fault lines in that part of the world. Suddenly he heard an elephant call. Brick glanced back to see the herd of elephants catching up to him. There was one elephant up in front leading the pack, and there was an oddly shaped man, if you could call him a man, riding on top of the elephant. Judging by the figure Brick knew it was Hunchie.
Brick continued to run at full speed but now his focus was only on one thing-How did Hunchie even manage to get on top of the giant elephant? As soon as he thought that, Brick was choking on a cloud of dust. Then all of a sudden he felt his shirt being grabbed by a hook, and he was hoisted on top of the elephant. Hunchie had managed to steal a special weapon from the village. The weapon resembled a fishing line but it was much larger.
"Thank you, brother," Brick managed to say after he came to his senses.
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