Werewolf.

I rode my bike everywhere. I had done it as long as I can remember. Today, I was looking to get the package that my neighbor had promised me with to someone's house a few towns over. It was up a pretty big hill, and across a few larger highways, but I was sure I could do it. I had ridden that far before, and my neighbor knew he could trust me. I loved riding, and long rides were always better.



I grabbed the small package off of my front step. It was a small package: It looked like it could by a couple of coffee cups wrapped in a small towel. and that's about what it felt like too. It was completely covered in brown wrapping paper, and on the top of it in indelible marker it said "EDDIE" In bold, all caps letters. There was a not beside it.



"Cassie,



This package is very important, and must get to Eddie at his house in New Braytonville. You know where his house is, I've had you bring a few packaged to him before. Take your time, and whatever you do do NOT open the package.



I'll see you for lunch!



Grandpa"



No, he wasn't my Grandpa, but everyone in town called him grandpa, probably because he took care of near everyone who was younger than he was, and that was near everyone in town. He had lived there his entire life, and was that kind of guy who even though he was easily well into his eighties, he still shoved his own driveway, raked his own yard, and even went to the neighbor's house to help them after, too. You start to wonder if the work is keeping him young, or if he's just still so spy because of some inner determination. With Grandpa, you couldn't be sure. He didn't talk much about his younger years, and seemed to have just been this kind old man who lived in this town, and that's how it always was.



I grabbed the package, put it in my backpack, and threw my leg over my bike. The bike was an ancient 1980's Schwin road bike that I had picked up from the dump a few years ago. I always loved the old steel framed bikes, and so this one was perfect. It looked like the previous owner had never ridden it more than a few times: The paint was perfect. The gears all shifted smooth after I put on some new cables, and the brake pads were barely worn, although dry- rotted. I spent a good long weekend cleaning her up and she was just as quick and versatile as any of the newer road bikes I saw the Lawyer's rolling around on after work, struggling to get up hills.




I ripped down the road, toward Eddie's house. I had taken this trip a few times before, and I knew it was a long one so I had made myself a big sandwich for when I got there. The morning Sun was just high enough in the sky now to peek over the tall evergreens shadowing the road and put a nice warm glow on my face and arms. It was very refreshing after the long winter we had.



I turned the corner onto the main drag and continued until the turnoff for the mountain road came which would be the remainder of my trip. It was a 10 mile long dirt road that not many folks lived on. It was murder to modern car suspension thanks to the frost heaves in the winter and the ruts in the spring, but a bike had no problem dealing with it. I kept to the sides where the runoff from the snow melt didn't hurt the road as much and trotted right up the hill with a little bit of panting and heaving.



Then I saw it.



Two pairs of eyes out of the woods, accompanies by two large, dark shapes. Were they bears just coming out of hibernation? No, they were too fast to be bears, because by the time I turned my head to catch a better glimpse of what I had seen, they were completely gone. I looked again. I stopped my bike, and put a foot down keeping silent and listening. No leaves rustling from an animal running away. I looked slowly from left to right, looking for some sign of motion.



"Hello?"



No response came.



I started pedaling again, somewhat concerned about what may be out there. It was probably just a couple of hungry animals, looking for food after a long winter.



Then the smell came.



At first it was as if I had taken a very wrong turn out of the mountains and I was riding along the ocean, and it was just a few feet past the treeline. The smell of salt and dead fish and a little blood. Then that passed as a crested a hill. It was nearly noontime now. my concern about what was following me had made me ride a deal slower than I usually did.



Then I smelt it again.



this time there was no mistaking it. That was fresh, hot blood. And a lot of it. It must be everywhere. I could smell it coming from just around the next bend. I stopped my bike and went completely silent. Then I heard it. A gnawing, growling sound. It must be a wolf, or a feral dog eating its kill just on the other side of this bend. I grabbed my knife out of my backpack, and set my bike to the side of the road. I slowly and silently walked around the corner.



There was no mistaking it. I had read enough stories, and Grandpa had joked and told enough stories about them that I was sure it was a Werewolf. It had a stunted snout, and near human eyes, although right now they were glassed over, enjoying its fresh kill. at his feet were two full sized black bears, their necks town completely apart, by teeth and claw. the werewolf was so intoxicated by the blood and the food that he didn't even look up to see me.



I backed away still holding up my old fishing knife. my eyes were so fixed on that werewolf I couldn’t turn around. I eventually turned the corner of the road, and got to my bike. I picked it up from the ground, and as quietly as I could, mounted her to ride away and find another way to eddy's.



"Hey, Cassie!" Said a familiar voice behind me.



It was Eddie. He was covered in blood, and as naked as a newborn pup.



He Smiled "Can I please have my package now?"



I Screamed. Before I knew what was happening, Eddie was holding me, with his hand over my mouth. "Please don't scream, I don't want to have to end such a good friendship like this" His eyes glistened.



I let him slowly release me, and then took the package out off my pack, and dropped it on the ground.  He stared at the package for a long time, not seemingly caring that he was naked, or covered in blood, or that the package was getting drenched by the spring thaw mud on the dirt road. Eventually he heaved a huge sigh, and picked up the package.



"Thank you" Said Eddie.  and turned around, holding the package in one hand, limply by his side as he walked toward the shack he called his home.



I started to ride off.



"Oh, and Cassie!" he shouted back.



I stopped.



"Our little secret?" he asked, locking eyes with me. I couldn't help but think that his eyes looked as viscous as a wolf's in that moment.



I nodded, and rode home As fast as I could. Grandpa asked me if the package was delivered as he stopped by for our afternoon tea. I nodded, and refused to speak about the ride, or anything else.



"you saw him, didn't you" he asked. it didn't sound like a question.



"What do you mean? Eddie? Yeah of course I saw him" Trying to sound cool.



There was along silence. Grandpa sipped his tea and looked out the window.



"Eddie has been that way a long time. I make him medicine to help keep his urges at bay. I had feared I was going to be too late this time. This damn winter has made it so hard to.."



"YOU KNEW!" I stood up from the table. "YOU KNEW AND YOU SENT ME TO...to that MONSTER!?"



Grandpa kept eye contact with me, taking another sip of his tea.



"Of course I knew, that's a wizard's job." He stood up from the table. grabbing his coat and hat.



"oh no" I said "You're not leaving until I get some answers"



He threw a $100 bill on the table, and an old, leather bound book.  "Take these" he said. "Read the book, and then come to me."
 He shoved his hands in his pickets, jingling the change with his fingers.



"you're one of us now" he said, looking out the window, still jingling his coins.  "I'm sorry it had to be this way"



I looked down at the book, and picked it up and tried to read the cover. It was in some strange language. As I continued to stare at it, though, the characters shifted, and changed into words I could understand.



"THE WEREWOLF: MALADIES AND TREATMENTS"



"The werewolf.... But Grandpa-"



He was gone.

The Bar.

There was a small bar a few blocks into the darker part of town that I always liked to go to. I lived on the upper east side, but the bars over there always seemed to be full of people still putting on airs. Too many fake people. Not enough reality. Sure, there was your good amount of bar fights, and the beer was warm, the food was cold, but the people were real. And sometimes that what you pay your hard earned money for.

I had lived in the city for some fifteen years now. It was a big, crazy place that I hadn't ever quite wrapped my head around. But It seemed to me that the best place for someone to get lost was in a big mess of people. Someplace like the city. It had seemed to work.

Sure, I had my friends. There was Barry, who worked on the upper east side as a janitor for one of the big apartment complexes for actors and stock brokers and the like. He and I would head over to the Old bar across the tracks at least a few nights a week. It was our special bit of enjoyment: to see real people acting out their lives in a real way. No more prada glasses and coach bags and people keeping up with their neighbors for no god forsaken reason. We were both tired of that bullshit, we saw it all day long at work.

Me? I work as an accountant for a stock brokerage on Wall Street. Its damn hard work, and I'm there late many nights, but it pays well, and with the money I'm saving I'll be able to move away in a few years. Go buy myself a cabin in the woods somewhere else. Or a bungalow on an island somewhere. Something a little more slow paced. I could never understand folks who thought of the city as a destination, as a place to retire and grow old. Maybe that's just me.

So Barry and I went on into our favorite bar on the west side. We ordered two buds with no intention of drinking the skunked garbage they called beer, but with the intention of paying patronage to a small section of the city that seemed to have folks that were still alive. Still here and thinking about their lives and their families and their friends, and not just about themselves. The bar was seemingly out of business when you looked at it from the outside: the lights were barely bright enough to see your hand in front of your face. There was no music playing, and the ancient jukebox in the corner was unplugged, with a huge hole in the speaker on the front of it from a fight long ago. The bar was cracked, although cleaned meticulously by the old lady that must either own the bar or just have worked there so long she had started to purchase stock in the company. Come to think of it, she was the only person who ever seemed to work there.

The front door was always shut tight, no matter how hot or cold it was inside the building. There was no air conditioning, and the heat didn't seem to work so well, either. In the winter, you could see your breath until there were ten or so folks in the small room, and then it would start to warm up.

As you looked around the walls as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you recognized that there wasn't your normal bar wall decor here. There were strange pieces of taxidermy on the walls: animals merged together  in strange ways: The head of a raccoon on the body of a dog. A deer's head cnnected to a platypus were the two strangest ones. The thing that made them even stranger is that whoever bothered to make em had spent a damn long time making the eyes on them look near perfect. You would swear these things were alive. Some nights you could swear you could cath them moving out of the corner of your eye.

There were a number of old books on bookshelves as well. a large, long collection of them. All leather bound, and all in languages that nobody there seemed to understand. They were put in odd places around the bar. Some on a high shelft behind the counter, thers stacked in a corner and made into a tabletop for folks to sit at. There was also a number of walking sticks hung around the room as well, but each one seemed to have some type of marks ground into it. Not by whittleing, or even with a dremel or something, but it seemed as though someone had burned the symbols into each one in a violent, quick manner.

Barry and I got there late one Friday night, ready to enjoy relaxing in our favorite spot. The lady behind the bar scoweled at us and said nothing.

"Two buds please"

She slid them across the counter and instantly went back to ignoring us, watching her recorded soap operas on the Tv across the room from her. People were already in here talking. There was a couple in the corner who seemingly were just passing through, and knew they had come to a place they weren't ready for yet. They finished their beers quickly and left. Everyone else were regualrs: Two guys who worked the docks nearby were here and still smelled of the ocean and of pneumatic oil. Three old ladies that always came and ordered tea were chatting at the bar, the old lady behind the bar would join in from time to time. And there was one other man here. He was in a dark suit, and was extremely tall. He was the only man in the room on his cell phone. He was talking to someone, seemingly about business as he looked about the room.

He had only been there five minutes before the old lady's loud bark from behind the bar came to reach his ears.

"Ey, " She bellowed " We don't allow phones in 'ere"

The man stood up, and placed the phone on the table without finishing the phone conversation.

"Ma'am, I would like to buy your bar"

"Ain't fer sale"

"I'm willing to pay any amount you like, name your price."

She looked him in the eye, hers gleaming, and repeated herself exactly "Ain't fer sale"

The bar went silent as they locked eyes with eachother for a long time.

The man picked up his phone again to continue the conversation, ignoring the old woman.

She snapped her fingers, and the man looked down at his phone. everyone in the bar could see that the battery had died.

"No Phones" she said. eyes gleaming.

The man looked down at his phone and laughed. It seemed that that was exactly what he had been looking for. He pulleed out his checkbook.

"The Bar ain't for sale!" Barked the old woman. the two shoremen in the corner stood up and made their way toward the man in the suit, the old lady held up her hand to tell them to stop. They did.

"Now ma'am," Said the man in the suit." I'm sure we can come to an understanding, I'm willing to pay any-"

"It Ain't for sale, now get outta my bar before I throw you out" She coughed the last word violently. It seemed to shake the walls of the building itself. the glasses on the wall rang slightly.

The man in the suit smiled. He looked around for a long moment, now at the perfect center of the bar. with a flash the man pulled something from the inside of his suit coat and pointed it at the old woman. before I could make out what it was, the old woman had one of the staff's from the walls in her hand, and the man  in the suit had dissappeared completely. It wasn't so much that the staff had made him dissappear, or that he had evaporated, more that he was never there at all. Everyone looked around for him, and noticed he was gone. Nobody said a word. The two men in the corner who had stood up slowly sat back down, and went back to their beers and their conversation as if nothing had happened. The old woman shuffled slowly over to the wall, and put the staff back in its rightful place. She slowly sat down.

The room was quiet as she caught her breath.

"Everyone out" she gasped eventually. "we're closed" She looked extremely sad. The ladies sipping tea in the corner helped to pick up glasses slowly, and shooed us out of the bar.

A few weeks later we decided to venture back to our bar. The door was locked. We looked inside the windows, and the room was empty. No strange taxidermy, no walking sticks on the walls, no nothing. There was construction gear in there, and it was seemingly getting turned into a fitness studio. There was no sign of the old lady anywhere.

Barry and I will never really understand what happened in that bar thatvnight. but we learned one thing for sure. There's some type of magic in this world, and some of its bad, and some of its good. I have no idea what kind of magic the old lady had, or the man in the suit. But one of them won that day. I'm still not sure which one.

Wolfman

The Snow was deep and fluffy, making it hard to get through. The large field ahead of him was almost untouched: It looked like a sea of perfect white snow. something from another planet. Where no life had ever existed, and where nobody had ever set foot before. 

He stepped through the deep, fluffy substance, sometimes bounding through it to attempt to speed up but it never seemed to work. Eventually he was able to find a plce where the wind was a bit colder, and the snow had frozen and hardened. This allowed him to walk ontop of the massive heaves of snow and move forward at a regular pace, trotting along, looking about him. The wind whipped at his face, as he looked for a suitable place to hunt for the day.

As he reached the far side of the clearing it was nearly mid day, and the mid winter sun was high in the sky, but much farther away than he would hope for. This had been a long winter, and a difficult one when you live in the woods alone. He was hoping to find a rabbit that had lost its bearings, or maybe even a small raccoon. Something that would feed him for a few days so he could set up a small camp, and rest, feel human for a few nights, maybe even cook the meat this time. The last time he tried to set up camp the bears had come, and he had to scamper off into the forest as the laid waste to everything he had set up for the day, losing out on some very nice meat he had caught himself. It seems that even the bears are thrown off kilter by this unnatural-long winter, he thought as he started to sniff the air, hoping for the scent of a weak or tired animal somewhere in the distance.

None came.

He looked about himself. He wanted to find some old tracks that had been covered by the snow drifts, or maybe some recently broken twigs at about critter-height. He looked and looked and finally found himself a small path that had been created by what seemed to be a family of woodchucks. It looked as if they were staying the a thicket of evergreens just up ahead. He would need to wait them out until one of them moved to understand where they were living. Hunting like this was much easier in packs, but He had been alone like this for years, not quite accepted by anyone, and always alone. Always by himself.

Mid-day passed into late afternoon, and he waited, half buried in a nearby snowbank, and sitting perfectly still. Ever watching, hoping to see the woodchucks come up from their small path, looking for food. Finally, just as the sun started to set, the Male stuck his head out form the ticket, and sniffed the air. He instantly caught his scent, as the wind changed and betrayed his existence to the woodchuck. He sprung up from his hiding place, growling violently, and grabbed the woodchuk by the nect before the realization that he was there even had time to reach his brain. He would eat well tonight.

He carried the woodchuck happily off into the woods, finding a place where snow hadn't fallen much thanks to the thick treecover. Here he would be able to set up camp, just like he had many times before. Hopefully the bears will stay away this time.

He looked up at the sky, and saw that it was a full moon. He laughed to himself slightly, and decided he would sleep as he was tonight. he could worry about all that in the morning. and with that he ripped the woodchuck open with his mouth, and ate ravenously. When he was done, he howled at the still full moon, in celebration of his kill, and almost as a cliche to the day had he had had, and curled up on the warm bed of leaves beneath him to sleep.

The next morning came, and he knew it was time. He stood up on his hind legs, gripping a tree for stability. He slowly closed his eyes. He knew he would need all of his energy for the change. Sinking his claws into the tree bark, he grunted and moaned in agony as the off white fur on his back receded into his skin, as his claws slowly faded away and turned into human hands, as his knees changed direction, and snapped into regular, human form. The process took some 25 minutes to complete. It may have been longer-- the cold sometimes made it worse, but he wasn't so worried about that as he was about having the strength to make it to town as a man now. Today was the day he got to see his daughter, and it was her birthday.

He had been like this his entire life: Born into a small family who lived in the woods and lived off the land, even in a time where so few folks decided to live that kind of life. He remembered his father being off and gone for weeks at a time, and always asking his mother where he had gone. Then without warning he would bust through the door, exhausted, and with a fresh kill with him. Sometimes a squirrell or a raccoon, sometimes a bear. They always ate well: mother was an incredible farmer, and father had an eye for the hunt. He never saw him change, though. Mother didn't have the power.

As he got older, and started to recognize girls, his anger would change him. at first it would just be fangs in his mouth that would cut his jaw. Then he learned to change fully, to become a wolf. to become what his father had given him. He believe it was a great treasure, a gift. His ex wife, Melissa, did not agree. she had left him soon after she found out.

None of that mattered today. He dug up his clothes he had hidden in a plastic bag underneath this tree, and got himself dressed. He checked for his wallet, and opened it. An ID, a credit card that had long ago been maxed out, and $25 in cash. That should be enough, once I sell this woodchuck hide, he thought. he ran off toward the town, buttoning his shirt as he went.

although he preferred to be a wolf these days, he was a very handsome human man. He knew this, and it made his life all the harder, as he had no desire to be a part of this world, save for his daughter. He was tall, and slender. Some men said he was unnaturally tall as he stood at nearly 6 and a half feet tall. He shoulders were broad, and he had always had a hard time finding clothes that fit, especially at the goodwill stores he was usually forced to shop at. He had a tight, curly beard that gripped his face, seemingly holding in the ferocious virility that his face showed.  He remembered when he grew his beard. He remembered he was 14. He knew she would need him soon. She was turning 14 today.  The changes would come soon.

He found his truck at the edge of the woods: an ancient diesel ford with more rust than body, but it ran soundly thanks to an old family friend who knew these trucks better than himself. He would park the truck at the edge of the woods here often and leave the keys in it. Today it bore a note:

Hey,
Fixed the timing chain and gave her a tune up. You owe me some Venison!

Jim

He smiled to himself, and stuffed the note in his pocket. He would be hunting overtime this winter.

He fired up the truck. The engine sputtered to life, and he went to pick up his daughter. She was waiting by herself at the general store, their regular spot as dictated by the court. Her mother was nowhere to be found. She jumped into the truck.

"Hey sweetheart!" He said, he noticed there were tears in here eyes. "What's the matter?" he said, truly concerned. She was always so happy.

she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Daddy, I changed last night, and it was really scary" She broke down at the edge of the sentence.

He held her for what seemed forever. eventually she calmed down. The heat on the truck was just starting to kick in. They relaxed in each others embrace for a few more minutes. The he let her go and looked her straight in the eye.

"Its all OK dear, we knew this day would come." He wiped the tears from her eyes.
"Did your mother see?"

She shook her head.

"Good" He said, pausing, and looking out the window. Memories from their marriage came flooding back. He kept staring out the window. "Good" 

"Now lets go hunt"


He threw the truck into gear and the sped off toward the forest. They woodchuck pelt was forgotten about, the money was forgotten about. Her birthday was forgotten about, but not for her. This was the gift she had been waiting for 14 years to enjoy. A real day with her father, in his truest form, and she in hers.

Part 2

-Part 2- 

I Slowly opened my eyes. My stomach was still happily full from the Chinese food I had eaten the night before, ordered from the best takeout place in town. The marking on the white wall said "Carlos: Subject 35. Looking across the room was another sign stating in the same big block letters "Jake: Subject 34" 

We had lived like this for some months now. The Days sipping into weeks as we did a few small tests, watched our school lessons on a TV screen that was in our room (or played video games that were in the same room) Ate whatever we wanted, and generally ruled the roost. It was all a little strange. The small area we were located in was only a few small rooms: one where Jake and  slept and held what little personal effects we had after the fire, and a large television where our school lessons were broadcasted, where an indicator would pop up when we had a notification and needed to be somewhere, and where we had every single video game under the sun. It was stellar. 

Directly next to this room was our kitchen, which had all the regular amenities of any kitchen, except none of these rooms had real windows or any venting to the outside any of us could see. Just beyond that area there was a large, open room, about three times the size or a racquetball court, painted completely stark white, and lighted by small, powerful LED lights recessed in the ceiling about 100 feet up. In this room they would submit us to "tests." These really weren't much, a loud voice would come over the speaker saying "Ignite the table, please." Kevin was the most confused by this, because he had no idea what the hell "Ignite" meant. The first few times he started to cry, eventually he figured out he just needed to stare at the table really hard for a few minutes, and they would let him go back into his bedroom to play video games with me. I did the same thing. It worked out for a few months. 

Time passed like this, and everything was alright. Kevin was alive, I was alive. Neither of us were in jail, and neither of us Were without food or shelter. As a 13 year old with a 9 year old brother and no parents, this was all I could really ask for. Sure we were having shitty experiments run on us in some for every day, but at least we weren't homeless...right? 

As I sat up and stretched, and got my feet into my slippers, Kevin sat up as well. "Morning Bro" He said. "Want to play some more Destiny?" 

Just as he finished his sentence, The TV flickered on with a status update "PLEASE REPORT TO THE ACTIVITY ROOM" This was the giant racquetball court. We both shrugged, put on our slippers, and headed that way. 

On the way to the room, two guys in suits approached us. One of them we recognized as the regular security guard who worked with us, the other one was new: he seemed larger, his suit was nicer, and he was not happy to see us. "You" He pointed at Kevin "In the room."

He grabbed me by the arm "You're coming with me" 

They pulled me upstairs into a room I had never been in before. There were some 10 laptops set about tables, and a large flat screen TV at the end of the room, which gave about 15 different angles of Kevin, sit perfectly in the center of the giant Racquetball court.

"Now, Kevin." Said the man in the suit " I want you to tell me about how you lit your mother's house on fire" 

"I didn't do it!" yelled Kevin, stamping his foot " I told you guys that at the Police Station, and Its true!" He folded his arms and looked away. 

"Kevin, we know you did it." Said the man. I started to feel anger welling up inside of me. "You aren't going to get in trouble, just tell me how you did it. 

"But I DIDNT!" Yelled Kevin. "I just got angry because that man was hurting mommy." 

The room went silent. The scientists typing at the laptops turned toward the screen. 

"and you assholes couldn’t figure this out?" Said the guard to the Scientists. He turned to the microphone.

"So do you start fires when you get angry, Kevin?"

Kevin stood, silent, and thought for a long time. "I Don't know" HE said, shuffling his feet and walking around. " I think so. Maybe" 

He then fell down and cried " I never wanted to hurt anyone... please don't take me away " 

The Man held up the mic and said "get the sensors on" The scientists whipped into a frenzy, activating different sensors in the room. The sensors lit up indicators all over the flat screen in the room, measuring heart rate, blood pressure, brainwaves, and a bunch of other things I didn't understand. 

"Kevin, you aren't getting taken away." Said the head guard "But I need you to light the table on fire now" 

"NO!" Said Jake. "I'll never do that again"

"Jake, you're going to light that table on fire" Said the guard, his head trembling in rage "Or I WILL Take you away" 

"Hey man cut it out." 

"Do it Kevin, or I'll take your BROTHER AWAY"

"HEY, MAN, STOP!" 

"I'll take him away RIGHT NOW" 

"SHUT UP!!! YOU'RE SCARING HIM!!!" The scientists hopped up from their chairs and held me back from him. I was ready to kill him. My vision flashed red. Or maybe I saw the screen get covered in red. I wasn't sure which. A Second later I saw the screen flash a thousand warning signs , then go dark. 

"JAKE!" I yelled, and broke free of the scientists, running toward the door. The last scientist stopped me before I made it. 

"No! the back draft will kill us all! The fire has already reached the upper staircase."

He pointed to his computer screen. it was a top down map of our little living space. all rooms except for this one was showing "Fire compromise" Flashing in red over them. 

I started to cry. I started to scream. I kicked. I punched a scientist in the face. finally, they hit me with a sedative needle, and I went to sleep. 

I woke up with rain hitting my face. Next to me was long, green grass. I hadn't seen grass in ages. There was a small beetle walking by. Was I dead? Was I in heaven? The cold rain ruled at least one of those out. 

"Carl?" Said a familiar voice, sniffling in between syllables. "Ca-rl?"

I rolled over, and there was Jake, completely naked, and bald. He didn’t have a single scar or burn on his body, though. Just a lot of soot. 

"Carl, "I said sitting up quickly.  The speed of the motion made me realize that the sedative was still doing its job.

"Easy!" Said Kevin, reaching out, not knowing what to do. He shivered. 

"I'm cold" 

I jumped up, ignoring the rush to my head. I realized that we were about 100 yards outside of the fence of some type of government facility. I could see the drag marks in the grass from where Jake had dragged me out of the facility. I could see the single building among all of that grass, smoldering in the distance. There were no cars, no roads, no transport craft of any kind to be seen. It must have all been held underground, and probably destroyed by the fire. 

Jake's Fire. 

Jake had killed our mother. 

I looked at him, sitting on the ground, shivering. I needed to get him warm before we worried about anything else. I found some branches, and wrapped him up. I gave him my socks, my underwear, and the over shirt I was wearing to get some clothes on him, and Build a small shelter out of the boughs of the pine trees just outside the facility. 

"Jake" I said, once we were settled, grabbing both of his shoulders in my over huge shirt. "You need to tell me what happened. 

He Broke down and cried for along time. The rain drowned out just how loud the crying was. It was probably better for both of us. "I'm so sorry Carl!! I just didn't want that guy to hurt mommy!" 

He went on to tell me that he had run home quick to grab this awesome Magic Deck he had put together. He knew he could sneak in through mom's room, since she was almost never there during the day. He climbed up onto the garage room, and cracked the window to mom's room. 

That's when he saw a huge, masked man standing over our mom. He was asking her questions about "The weapon" and saying that it was hidden somewhere in the house. He said he had paid a lot of money for it, and he could collect whether her old man was dead or not.  He started to unzip his pants. 

Jake jumped into the house, kicking and screaming to get the man to stop. The man laughed, scooped him up, and tried to hit him to knock him out. 

"I remember the punch coming toward my face as he held me by the neck. After that, everything went red. "

We both held each other and cried. then we went to sleep. We slept late into the night, and we were finally startled awake by the sound of sirens in the distance. 

I snapped up. "They've found us" 

Jake and I ran through the forest, until the dogs could no longer be heard. 

"We have to find a way out of here." I said between shaky breaths, clutching my chest. 

We started to hear 4 wheelers starting up in the distance. It wouldn't be but a few more minutes before they blasted through the evergreen forest and found us. 

Evergreen forest....

"Jake." I grabbed his shoulders. " I know you don't want to hurt anyone, but can you light...just these few trees in front of us on fire?" 

"I don't know...." he said, pulling away from me in fear "Maybe. I'm afraid I'll hurt you." 

Jake, I'll run really far away, that way "I pointed toward the rising sun. "But I need you to light a little fire here to scare the guards away. OK?" 

"I cant!" Yelled Jake, sobbing again. "I'm so tired"

"You need to, Jake" I said, looking him dead in the eye. "You need to, or they’re going to take me away, and take you away, and run tests on you just like they did today. no more video games, no more Chinese food. Just Pain and suffering. That's what they'll do to you. That's what they'll do to ME" 

The trees in front of him burst into flames. Nothing changed really about him, though. He just looked kind of upset. Just a kid too angry. But its like he could focus all of that childlike energy right through his eyes.  

"Good!"  I ran past him, toward the sunrise "Keep going. 

The trees lit on fire, then the next aisle, then the next, and the next. He had gone too far.

"JAKE STOP!" I turned around, and grabbed him, and started to run toward the sunrise, the fire behind us making its morning splendor seem like a candle in a well lit room.

We hopped a bus. Then we hopped a train. Then we hopped onto the back of another train. We had no money, o we lived in vans in the junkyard in the town we landed in until I could steal an ID from someone about my age so I could go get a job to get us an apartment. I make Jake go to school. I worked at the Local Wal-Mart, bagging bags and picking up carts. We keep to ourselves and try to make sure to change our names every few months and move to another state. 

The kind of anger it takes to get it out of Jake is something immense. It's that deep down in your gut anger that feels like it comes from somewhere outside of you. Its that kind of anger that comes from a place deeper than feeling. It comes from a place where he knows people are doing real, real wrong, and it needs to be stopped. There is no arguing with that kind of anger. Hopefully I'll never have to see it out of Jake again. 

We had been running for what felt like days. The relentless rain and wind hadn't helped either. It had been along, tiring night running through the dark forest near the facility we had just escaped from, but hopefully it would pay off. Hopefully I would finally be able to keep my little brother safe.

We stopped in a small cave as the sounds of the barking dogs subsided. To catch our breath. To think. to re evaluate where we were. To take stock, maybe find a map at a local truck stop, Hopefully find a place we could hide for a few days while we figured out who we could go to for shelter, for rest. for safety.

My brother and I, we had been captured by this organization some 4 months ago. They were vary accomodating at first: letting us walk around the grounds as we pleased, even giving us free reign to go to the mall and shit like that when we wanted to essentially. All they asked us to do was to just show them our powers. The only problem was, we didnt have any.

A few months went by, and the guys in suits that started standing next to the nice guys in lab coats started getting anxious. Things weren't progressing as fast as they had planned. We could never hear what they were sying, and most of the time their faces were hidden, but we knew what was coming. If we didnt show them our amazing, mind blowing abilities sooner than later, things were going to get grim. As Far as either of us knew, there was nothing special about us. We were just two fucked up kids who grew up in a small town and got into some trouble. And now we were here. God help us.

My brother and I grew up in a normal house in a small town outisde of Portland. We skateboarded, we played videogames, and we skipped school. A lot. I don't know if it was me who egged him on or the other way around, but we were always getting into shit we shouldn't have. We were always breaking windows in old abandoned houses, or tresspassing in construction zones. Shoplifting or just causing trouble and mayhem. Our Mom had no idea how to deal with us. Dad had died years ago in a far away country in a plane crash, going to meet with some clients for anew defense contract. He apparently worked for some government contractor, but we never saw much of him. The insurance money that the company paid us covered all of our living expenses, and my mom never had to work, so she was always home, and always driving us crazy. This is probably why we were out of the hosue so much. On the streets, looking for shit to do that would get us into trouble.

Well trouble had found us. Jake and I had finally run to the end of our rope when we got picked up by the truancy officer in town one day, and taken back to school, where the principal called us into his office.. It was the 6th time this year that the truancy officer had caught us. We thought we were sly, paying one of our friends to call our names out in class, but the teachers had caught on, and they knew when we weren't there. My friend we had paid was in serious shit too, apparently he was being held in a separate room. As the truancy officer pulled up, there weren't just cop cars outside, but also a long line of black SUVs with no marking on them at all. All heavily tinted windows. All seemingly brand new.

"Whose cars are those?" I asked

"Shut up Carl, you're in serious trouble this time"

 The truancy officer pulled me out of the car and pushed me up the school steps, pushing me down the hall and into Mr Parson's: The Principal's office.

"Now, Carl" Mr Parson said, looking down over his glasses perched on his thin nose. His nearly bald head of hair waving in the breeze of the central air conditioning. "I know you've had a hard time in school, and I think we're all here just to help you, but something serious has happened, and we need to talk to you about it"

"If skipping school is serious, then you need a new set of hobbies" I said, looking down at my Vans.

Mr. Parson stopped, and continued to stare at me. He was apparnetly amazed that I was either telling the truth, or that I had the gumption to deny whatever he was talking about. The only problem is that I had no idea what he was getting at at all. Jake and I have spent the entire day up in the Gravel Pit, doing jumps with our mountain bikes. Around noon we went and got sandwiches from the local Subway, and that's where the Truancy offier got us. He knew our favorite hookie spots, but didn't want to tresspass on Gravel Pit property himself.

"Carl, 3 men were killed today"

The room went silent. I had no idea what to say. I literally didn't even know where this was coming from.

I stopped staring at my shoes and locked eyes with Mr. P.

 "Where's Jake" I asked.

"He's being held else where" Mr. Parson said "now if you could jus-"

"I won't say another fucking thing until he's in this room with me"

"Jake, you're in no position to negoti-"
"I don't give a fuck WHAT position I'm in, I won't say another word until my brother is here with me"

Mr. Parson looked me dead in the eye, his wispy hair still blowing in the HVAC. The HVAC spun down in our silence.

"I'll see what I can do"

Mr. Parson got on the phone, and made a call to the other room, I could hear the muffled sounds of a man's voice who did not sound farmiliar to the school. He sounded like he was a detective, or a police officer. He was abrupt with Mr. P. Then hung up on him. Mr P. Looked at the receiver in his hand, bewildered and afraid. He then slowly set it down on its hook, his slight hand slightly shaking as he put them back on his desk, folded neatly.

"I'm sorry, Carl, but Jake is in some very serious trouble. I think you might be the only one who can help him."

I had heard that man's voice. I had seen the fear in Mr. P's face. I knew three men had been killed. Or at least that's what Mr. Parson's said.

"Mr. P...Tell me what happened. Jake was with me all day...I don't understand" Tears were welling up in my eyes.

"Well, Carl, " Said Mr. Parson's clearing his voice, and looking around his desk to make sure it was tidy enough for such a conversation  "This afternoon around noon I received a call from the Local police department stating that your home was set ablaze, and Jake was seen running off, in the direction of the Subway where the two of you were found."

"Mom....I"

Mr. P looked down at his desk. he paused for a long moment. The HVAC kicked back on.

"I'm sorry Jake, her body hasn't been found yet"

-TO BE CONTINUED-

Hidden In The City

The City made me feel sick inside. I had never liked living here. I had always been a country boy at heart. But a man has to do what he has to. Work had dried up in the back country where I had grown up, ad I needed to find a place in this world for myself, so I headed east to the city. It was dirty. It was too big. It moved too fast. It made no sense to me why people would want to live like this. There was too much soot, and smoke, and fire, and other people to be angry at you and such. I Never wanted to live this way.



I had moved out here after Ann had left me. It was a long relationship. She had always loved me and I knew she did. I still lover her I think. I'm not sure. I hope I still do. I just wish that what had happened hadn't come between us. I wish I could explain what happened better to her.  I wish a lot of things. But that's not too important now.



We had met when I was doing roofing one summer up on the mountain working on rich folks homes that only come there in the winter to use the houses as a place to drink and eat and stay in while they waited to go ski at the resorts the next morning. It was damn hard work, but It was a good time as there wasn't much for people around. It was mostly me and the guys ripping nails, drinking beer and swearing all day long. Working on our tans, and making pretty damn good money while we did it. It seemed like this was the best of everything. She came along at this point. She just walked by one day with a sundress on. The guys didn't catcall, that wasn't what you did in the country. We just quieted down, looked at her, waved our hellos, and talked about her for the rest of the day. They all already knew. I looked at her way longer than most. I was struck by her beauty. I needed to meet her. I needed to know her name.



"Don't do it Ken"  Said Gerry, without looking up from the nail gun as he set a row of shingles. "you know the city girls are nothing but trouble. If you meet her at a party fine, but don't go for it. She's probably up here in the summer because she got in trouble in the city anyway. Daddy trying to hide her away from something.



"I don't know Gerry. I'll just say hi"



I was 21. I was an idiot. I was too young to know that Gerry was probably right. Gerry was also the only one who knew that I had visions. Now I'm not saying I'm clairvoyant, but I'll be damned If I can think of another name for it. I went to psychiatrists and doctors and specialists most of my life. My mother would take me about once every other year or so when she just couldn't explain away the things I knew about people anymore, and she would have me checked. The docs would test me, and Test my brain, and keep me in rooms for hours, sometimes what felt like days. And then ask me questions. I would know the answers. I shouldn't, but I did. Then they would want to do more tests. My mother would angrily refuse as they tried to keep me just for one more day, for one more week. For one more month. My Mother was shrewd, That's why she caught my dad when she knew he was selling stolen liquor out of our back shed. That's why she knew that she had to give fake names for both of us every time we went to the doctor. We would lave that doctor's office and never go back.



We lived like this through my childhood. But we always stayed in our same house tucked away in the mountain. It was the right place for me. Not so many people for me to "see." Not so many things to bother me. Or My Mother. It let me think on things. It let my mother rest, instead of worry. It was right. I can't imagine ever leaving there.



Then I met her. Her name was Ann. She was staying up at her parent's summer house for the summer. I started waving a little longer each morning when she walked by. Started asking her how her morning was. It wasn't much, but It was more than I had done ever before. Gerry was pretty much all who I had ever talked to. Gerry knew I knew him better than he even knew himself, and I was too afraid to get to know much anyone else, cuz god knows what I would find out. I had met too many old friend's of my mothers or father's that when I locked eyes with them, they had too much darkness, to much hidden. It would hurt my mind. It would scar it in some way, and I would need to sleep. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for days. That's how my mother found out about my dad's little crime spree. And that he was cheating on her. And that we was fixing to kill us both and take the insurance money and move out east with the girl he had met. Would he have actually done these things? I can't tell. I just see what I see. And when you're 5 years old and you know your dad's fixing to kill your mother, you don't just keep that to yourself while you play with your firetrucks.



I'm letting the story get away from me, though. Ann kept walking by that huge house we were working on. Eventually I worked up the nerve to jump down off the high roof and walk over and say hello. I introduced myself. She told me her name was Ann. I told her that I would be off work at 6 that night. She said she would be around. She said her house was empty, and she would love company. She seemed to know me already. She asked me why I wouldn't look at her face. I told her I would see her tonight and bring by some good cider my mother and I had made from last apple season.



I put on my best shirt and pants and drove over there in my father's old Mustang that he had left in the yard. It had no plates on it, but it was super clean, and It was probably one of the nicest things I had ever seen. I rode up to her house and we got to know each other. It was a great, long night. We talked about a whole lot of nothing for hours and hours. She knew how to talk to a guy like me. We talked about the mountains, and the streams, and the weather. We talked about her, and her college, and how she was glad to be away from it all for a summer. Just enjoying spending time in the country until school started again. She was glad to have met me. I was glad to have met her, too. She asked me why I wouldn't look into her eyes again.



"It's not something I'm too comfortable doing"



"why? She said with a laugh "I won't bite you"



"Oh, I know that"

"Then look at me!" She said in the nicest way. and grabbed my face and made my eyes lock with hers.

And that's when I saw it. Nothing. Not a thing at all. She had shared herself with me through talking so simply, so completely that I knew her inside and out. Just from that night. Sure there were stories about a dog that died too young when she was 4, and some overbad fights she remembered from before her folks had split, but there was no darkness. no hiding, deep secrets that most folks always seem to have.  We fell in love that night. She didn't know why. I still don't think she does.



Three summers went on like this. Me and Gerry hung out our own sign and started working the houses on our own. We plowed roads in the winter to make ends meet, and fixed roofs and built decks and whatever else we pleased as the summer came along. Ann was there every Summer, and gone with the school season. Then she started visiting during breaks. I still hadn't met her parents. She never asked why I didn't much like other people She never asked why I spent to much time alone. It was like she knew. Like she already knew that part about me without me telling her. We started talking about starting a family up here. About her getting a job as a school teacher out here. About our kids, about our life. It was exactly what I wanted, and I couldn't be happier.



Then her father came. He was a tall, slender man in a suit that was too expensive for where he was. He came up in a big shiny car, and had a firm handshake and big white smile. I Introduced myself, and without thinking I had locked eyes with him. I was so happy to be with Ann I had forgot. She was too happy to introduce me. I locked eyes with him and I saw it. I saw that he knew everything. He knew I could see. Hew knew Ann showed me nothing. He knew I had fallen in love with her, and that the product his company had made had made her impervious to my sight. He knew what I was, and he wanted me. Why he didn't hide his thoughts from me, I could never tell.



I packed up and left the next morning.



I work down by the docks now. I keep my head low, I pack the boxes into the ships as they ask me. and Nobody much bothers me. From time to time, I'll see a man come up to me and ask me a question and make it a point to lock eyes with me. I'll see he works for that man in the suit, and I'll turn and walk away. I think he didn't realize that his little trinket didn't work one bit. I still don't think he knows. Ann really just didn't have a damn thing to hide. She loved me, and I loved her. That was the whole story.

 I spend a lot of time watching television, seeing people's stories fold out on that perfect little box. Its good to see stories like that sometime, when things work out so well. Work out so neat and they ride off into the sunset with a big THE END stamped across the back side for the frame.



Me? I don't get an ending like that. I'll be here I imagine most of my natural life. Just trying to stay clear of folks like that man in his suit, and Ann, and everyone else. Because when you can read a man's mind, you find out there's no one you can trust.

Friendships.

I'm not sure what I'll write about today. We had a beautiful bithday party for our daughter yesterday, and we also had a great time enjoying my good friend Jesse's daughter Aria's birthday party today. It was truly wonderful to see these old friends once again. It was a real great thing to see such good, old friends once again.

It's funny, how time gets away from you.  I realized that for some of the friends I saw this weekend it had been months. Its strange how fast time seems to pass with things like that. especially when you ahve a kid, a job, a house, nd a million other things ot worry about. It's strange how you can just all of a sudden look over your shoulder, and you realize you've been away from your friends for far too long.

It was really refreshing to be able to spek to my friends again about exercise, dubstep music, our kids, our lives, and realize that everyone's doing well. It's good to see such friendships last across time as well. I've always wondered if after a long time friends end up growing apart. People always seem to say that they do. I've only ever experienced my freidnships growing closer over time. As friends go on their own paths, and learn new things away from you, and oyu do the same, the friendship is still there, and it still grows. When you meet again, you' ahve new things to share, a new family you've made, a new accomplishment to share. And that's what grows your freindship.

Stephanie and I often lament our age demographic. We're a young couple, so our friend pool is a little different. We have a hard time spending time with friends from college, as most of them are stillliving a very much "collegiate style" life. We Enjoy spending time with them when we can and its always a blast, but with a child its hard tomake the time to see them, and to enjoy the time we have together. This means that our friend base gets a little segmented, as we spend good qualit time with our child-less friends often on a one-on -one basis, and spend the rest of our time organizing playdates with out child-ful friends. It works out, but it does create quite a time space between us seeing those we care most about.

I'm not quite sure what I'm trying to get to. I'm finding that as I get older, friendships get stronger, and better. Often times these freindships become the foundation of your life. Sometimes as you get older you realize that these friendships aren't made overnight, but take time. they take years to cultivate.

I don;t think I have much more to say about friendships. Old Friends: good to see you all this weekend. Lets hang out more.

A Short Story.

John had always enjoyed running in the woods. He enjoyed the birds chasing him, he enjoyed the wind on his face, and the leaves he kicked up from his raw hyde boots. He enjoyed the bears that would run away out of sheer confusion to see a human running in the woods in such a way. Just free. No weapons, no armor. Just running alone in the woods the way his great grandfather had in the days before the mountain went to war with the people for Yorn.

John kept running. He was looking for his favorite spot. The mountain was a strange, magical place though, and it would constantly change. Not the location of the thing, but the feelings of the places that you ran to to get there. You would constantly doubt yourself, and you could feel the ravens staring down at you from the branches, almost shaking their heads at your attemps to find something on the mountain, especially as a human. John knew how to traverse it though. He had been there a thousand times before, and he had never let the unsureness get to him. He was concerned this time, though. The mountain seemed different. IT wasn't just this one spell this time. It wasn't just the spell held by the animals of the mountain, glued to every tree branch like a gian spider web. It was more. The pull of the spell was greater this time. John Could feel it. As though whoever the unknown caster was he was redoubling his efforts. Was he doing it just for John? or was this place somewhere he had never been to before, and the spell was stronger here? was he truly lost? John had no idea.

The spell John knew so well was only wispered about in Yore. Nobdoy in town knew where it had come from, or when the mountain had become to cursed by what seemed to be the animals themselves. John can remember his father telling him about the dangers of the woods, and the stories of a great spider that controlled the spell. His father had reassured him they were only stories though, and that there was no great entity controlling the mountain. It was simply that people had forgotten how to talk to the forest, and how to befriend it. As such the mountain had cast a great spell on itself to protect it from the men who would always tear away at its trees, hunt its animals, and fish its streams to ruin. They would burn the forest floors into fertilizer for their crops, and move forward, ever closer o the peak of the mountain with reckless abandon. Then one day people started to get lost.

First it was the hunters. The strongest dissappeared first. They would leave on a many days hunting trip, expected to return with enough meat to feed their families for the long, cold winter that the shores of the Muriel Sea were so famous for. They would be gone for days. Then weeks. And only a handful would return, shaken, and without any kills to show for it. Many of the strongest, and bravest men never returned. When the men were asked what happened, their eyes would go blank as if they had seen a ghost, and no memory of what happened on the mountain could be sopken, as if they were sworn to secrecy by a force grater than themselves. Even grater than the mountain.

Years passed, and a town which has become a famous fur trading town slowly fell into ruin as its town people learned the ways of fishing the frigid, barren waters. The Muriel Sea was a salty, black sea, which was known to have little sea life, if any at all. For a full century the People of Yore scratched their life out of that Sea, creating a hardened group of folk that were just as able to survive the harsh climate in the shadow of the mountain as they were afraid of the scret magic the mountain seemed to hold.


Tourists or travelers would come from time to time, and they would stare in disbelief at the beautiful mountain behind the town. Overlush, with no trails leading to its base. Seemingly overteeming with flora and fauna, ready to be harvested, hunted, and enjoyed. These travelers would often not heed the townsfolks warnings "There is no trail for good reason" was the statement that many would say from Yore. They would be ignored. The stronger the traveler, the less forgiving the mountain would be. John has been the only one to understand the mountain. Understand its magic.

Magic is a strange thing. It isn't as you read about in the story books: a thing that bursts with great energy from a wand, or a staff. Magic here is much slower, more deliberate, and more subtle. You can't quite find it, or see it, or smell it. But you can feel it. You can feel it seep into your bones. The People of Yore knew of the magic on the mountain. As their population grew less from famine or cold or pilgrimage to more fertile lands farther north, the people of Yore could feel the magic. They could feel the invisible spiderwebs clutching at the edges of their slanted thatched roofs at the edge of the mountain, slowly moving through their streets, making their night lamps less bright as they once were. John Seemed to dispel this just with his presence. Nobody understood it.

John was born very slight, and grew into boyhood with constant illness. He always had a love of the forest, though. He would often play too close to the mountain, and many thought he was cursed. He would venture ever farther into the forest each day in the summers, springs, and autumns as he grew into manhood. Then has his 13th year passed, and his grandfather's bow as passed down to him, he began to venture deeper into the woods. Sometimes for a day, other times for weeks. Unlike the men before him for the past age, John would return with more energy and vitality.

Today was different. The Mountain was testing him. It wanted to know his true mettle. John could feel the trees lean in around him as the invisible cobwebs seemed to tug a little bit at each branch, or was is just the breeze? He walked forward, feeling more tired than he had  in many years. He continued to follow his path that he knew, ignoring the unsureness in his mind. Ignoring his desire to turn back He knew if he gave into it he would be lost. The mountain would send him home like so many before.

Then he was upon it. The hut beneath a great waterfall, which seemed taller than the tallest tree in the forest. Even though the waterfall was so great, at least 500 feet tall and 100 feet wide, it emptied into a small, serene lake. at the far side of the lake,  next to the path that John had made was a small hut. It was hewn from softwood in some great haste, to create shelter from the great storm some years before. It had a moss roof, and a steel pipe where the woodstove let its smoke into the air. The strangest thing about this place, was that even for the great size of the waterfall, it was not noticeable from the town, nor from the opposite mountain ranges. The waterfall was also oddly quiet, as if it was miles and miles away.

John Heaved a sigh of relief. He had made it.  He pulled his pack up closer to his back, checked to make sure his bow and quiver were still about his person, and trucked toward the small shed. he knocked on the door three times. As he knocked, he could see the shed quiver and shake,  and it seemed as though at any moment the small shack would shatter and fall to ruin right before him. The sounds of the shaking didnt reverberate, though. It was as if they were only noises and sights inside Of John's head. Creating no sound except for him, for the knocker. The door creaked open just a crack.

"Ah, John" Said a small feeble voice "I'm glad you've made it"

John Stepped inside the small shack. it smelled of rotten meat and a poorly drafted wood fire. The Old Man sitting on the other side of the shack offered him a seat, the same seat John Had taken many times before.

"Tell your grandfather how my spell is holding"

John swallowed, but refused to break his gaze with his grandfather. He was untimely old as this point, and the spell he had cast had obviously given him unnatural long life. With each passing year he seemed less and less man like and more like some twisted figure that wa simply alive due to the hatred he felt for the People Of Yore.

"Grandda, its time to let it go"

"You know I can't do that" said The Old Man, and as he finished the sentence, it seemed as though the mountain would finally engulf John. He felt the spiderwebs in his mind enclose around him, and the complete fear of the mountain start to take hold of his mind. Just as quickly, his grandfather removed the spell, and let him rest.

"does my spell still hold, John?"

"Yes, Grandfather"

Continuing the Experiment

Welp, time to start writing stuff. I don't really have an idea, or a direction today, so its time to utilize this blog as I intended: as an experiment, and at raining ground for me, and for my writing. I'll continue to write until the timer beeps, which will be in 19 minutes now. It'sinteresting whe nyou just let your brain flow like this, and write whatever you feel, sometimes you come into some ideas that you never though you could even come up with. Sometimes, you write total bullshit for 20 minutes and feel worse than when you started. Sometimes, you think its total bullshit, and people love it, and then you're more confused and upset about it than if it wasn't popular at all. It all really makes no sense. I don't know what particularly to write about though.

I've had a good month away from the working world so far. I've grown a better relationsip with my daughter. This writing experiment has shown me that I could probably write a book if I wanted. Maybe I will. Maybe I'll write one on Libertraianism. Maybe I'll write one on the NSA and its shitty ways. Maybe I'll write a fantasy novel. I don't know. Maybe I'll write a book about my boring, shitty life , and just fill the pages with exerpts from this blog. I don't know. There are so many things I can do right now its really amazing.

That's what a lot of people don't realize when they're unemployed. It offers them incredible opportunities. It gives you the ability to expore new venues, look into new fields, and even start a new business. It gives you the time to refocus on what is most important to you in life. Your family. Your Friends. Your own health. Your education.  It helps you refocus and find a connection with te person you ideally want to be. I can tell you now, I had lost track of that. I had no idea what my direction was except in a blind dash for more money, and more income.  I know one thing that's for sure: I was miserable, and I was making my wife miserable as well. Sophia wasn't benefitting from it either. If I pare down my life to the things that really matter: My health, and my family, I was the poorest man alive at that time. I was squandering two of the biggest assets in my life.

Now I know this. I'm looking for a better life. I'm looking for a job that makes more sense with my family, and my wife's work. I'm helping her deal with the stresses at her job. I'm learning more about my daughter every day I spend playing with her, and I'm learning to love her little quirks, her insecurities, and her quest for knowledge nad independence. I'ts truly wonderful.

I'm realizing that i value my time more dearly than just about any sum of money. I truly, really value being able to rest,to travel, to exercise, to think, to educate myself, and to do it all with some peace and quiet, and with the knowledge that I can do it on my time. It's funny when you think about it: We spend most of our lives giving up mass amounts of time doing things we don't generally enjoy, only so we can save up enough and do stuff we enjoy while we're sick and old. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I think as we get closer to a remote work envirronment, and we start to work for ourselves in new exciting ways, this will go away. People will be able to do EXACTLY what they want, and make money at it. I think we're getting closer to that every day. I'm doing...for the most part EXACTLY what I want to be right now: Writing to you, and making exciting small businesses for my wife and I to run. If I can make enough money to live on these endeavors..I've won. I've made myself a system that allows me to live and thrive as I see fit. and I've done it with th ehelp and support of my family. I cannot think of truer wealth than that.

that's ten minutes of writing. I should also say here that for the past week I've been a little down. I've realized that I was hoping to see some more fruition from the youtube channel by now, but that's mostly my fault. I haven't spent as much time as I should have on the video editing, and I've been bad on content creation. I've dedicated myself once again to picking up the pace on that, and I'll continue to make more, new content. Its important, because we're starting to get more fans: and as we get fans they'll hopefully ask their friends to watch and so on. More content will help that. You all know that. I know that. I've been a lazy bum and that won't help me get to where I need to be.

I just deleted a paragraph because it was total bullshit. 5 minutes left. Spring is starting to show its beautiful, fower filled head. in celebration, I've dove headfirst into the Porsche restoration again. I've gotten the filler all over the cracks in the dashboard, and I've started to pull up the rest of the ruined carpet in the interior as well. I just need some help from a welder friend to seal up some holes in the interior, then its reassembly time! Well, not quite: first I'll need to clean an restore both door cards, sand, prime, and paint the dash (or vinyl wrap, we need to see how this new duplicolor textured paint turns out first)  I'll need to measure and tap the new floor hole once I get fresh metal welded in. (oh yea, the previous owner drilled holes THROUGH the floor, apparently this must have been during the great hole tap shortage of 2005)  So there is much to be done. I'm truly excited though. I love building things. I love making things my own. Cars I find are this wonderful cohesion of so many skills, and so many different parts of knowledge and labor, that as you finish you realize that what you have made is a synergy of all of those parts, and all of that work, and you feel as though you've created something bigger than the sum of its parts. It's one of my favorite and most smiple pleasures. I'm glad I've found this joy in life. I love projects. I love taking things and making them my own. I think I will always do that.

So in conclusion: This post is jsut shit I thought about. I like cars, I like spring. I love my family, and I've been a lazy bum about the youtube channel. Sorry Chris.

And to anyone who read this: Congratulations you get a prize. Just leave a comment to collect.

Understanding Celiac Disease: A Husband's Perspective

Man, do I feel like shit today. I have been just loafing around, doing small stupid tasks instead of getting stuff done that I should be. I spent the night in my daughter's bed because she was having hard time sleeping, and i had no pillow and no blanket, plus she was pushing me off the bed most of the night. It was most uncomfortable to say the very least. So this morning when I woke up my whole body hurt. It hurt in that way that you feel like you need a do over on your entire 8 hours of sleep. I hurt right down to the middle of my bones. It was not even a little bit pleasant.



Sophia seemed fine. She woke up, she played, she kissed her mother goodbye as she went off to work. But I know she didn’t sleep very well either as she asked for a nap at around 11:30. which is shocking because she hates sleep in any form. But I suppose when you're tired enough you'll ask for sleep. that's the way of the world.



It is very hard to do what you need to do when you're tired, and in pain. that's for sure.  you feel as though you'll just fall apart if you start something. You feel like if you get up to move, your legs will snap off, or your head will explode from the splitting headache you have. My body was so stiff this morning, I couldn't look down at my feet. It was quite painful.



so what the hell am I talking about? I'm not sure. I just know that being in pain like this is very difficult. I'm glad that I don't have to live with it every day. I'm glad that I'm a healthy guy, and if i sleep in some type of a reasonably comfortable environment I'll feel just fine. If there is one thing I have always been truly blessed with its my health. I've been extremely healthy my entire life and I'm very glad for it.



As many of you know, my wife has Celiac disease, and its been really hard for her to deal with. Not so much the food part: I love to cook, and I keep her belly full of delicious home cooked meals 7 days a week. The bigger issue for her is that it seems that gluten isn't her only issue, or she's so sensitive to it that even skin contact with it can make her sick for 3 days or more. It's really depressing for her, because we can't really go out to eat, we have to very carefully choose where we go based on our gluten issues, and if she gets sick, she's bedridden for a few days, feeling like she has the worst stomach bug you've ever heard of.  It's really rough not only on the body, but on you mentally as well. I know that she feels down sometimes, and some days she just wants to stay in bed and not go to work, but she goes, and she's incredibly strong.



The mental anguish is real, though. How do you get through life when you can't go places your friends want you to go? Our Date nights are usually spent at home, or cooking at a friend's house. We are forever reading the backs of cereal boxes, shampoos, lipsticks, makeups, to make sure that its something that Stef can use or eat. It's a difficult thing to deal with.



I try my best. I scratch cook everything. Sauces, soups, all special spice mixtures, all from scratch. Ketchup. We just recently found that most store brand ketchup is easier on her stomach than Heinz, so we've switched to that. I even have had to scratch make mustard. It wears on me as well. I get tired of constantly cooking from scratch. I get tired of the 30 minute conversation with the Chinese takeout guy of "no really, she'll get incredibly sick, please no gluten." I get tired of constantly reading ingredients on everything, and looking at every food that she eats. its really hard. But It important for her health, and I'm glad I can help keep her safe through my experience cooking. I'm glad I can make her healthy food that doesn't make her sick. But its hard for both of us. I can't imagine how hard it is for her, though.



Stef is sick most of the time. She feels sick to her stomach, or she has a headache, or shes just really tired. She tells me, and I know its true. I don't know what to do about it, though. This makes me very upset, because I want nothing more in the world than for my wife to feel OK. I want her to feel better, and to be happy, and healthy. But we aren't there yet, and the doctor's don't know how to stop it yet, either.



I really felt sick today. I didn't want to get up. I loafed around the house. I took a nap. This was only one day for me, though. It was a single day of me feeling bad. Just one. and I fell apart. I still feel terrible. I'm writing my blog post about 8 hours later than I usually do. I' hazy headed. I don't feel quite right still. I can't imagine feeling like this all the time. I can't imagine constantly being afraid of the food I eat, or being worried that I’ll be sick when I'm out with friends.  I truly feel for her, and wish it could be better.



The hardest thing for us right now, is that people don't understand gluten allergies. They think its a fad, or a diet, or that she's "just saying that" to stick to some diet or ritual. Sometimes people think that gluten is hidden in random fruits and vegetables. Sometimes people will feed her gluten at a restaurant anyway, thinking that its "just for a diet." We've had it all happen. This makes it all the harder. There's no way for me to help with that. I wish there was.



Its amazing to me that my wife has gone through life feeling generally sick like this for YEARS. its been just over a year since we figured out her allergy. and It's been a great year for her. She lost a lot of weight, she feels a lot better, and things are on the mend. But its still hard. Its hard for her to go to work feeling this shitty each day. Its hard for her to say no to friends when they want to go out. Its hard for her to not be afraid of food. Its all hard and Just feeling crappy today reminded me of that. So hat's off to you, beautiful wife. A delicious gluten free home cooked meal is waiting for you.

How We're Doing It: Volume 3

Another followup post for what Stef and I are working on. It's been a fairly slow week for us as I had some friends visit from far flung lands, and spent a  good amount of time with them. However, things have plugged along as they usually do.

My wife's website is live and can be seen and subscribed to at www.fortunesnap.com Its still very bare, and there is much to be done. On the docket for this week:

add subscription sidbebars

get a background image to populate JUST on the home page (its amazing how difficult wordpress makes this...anyone willing to help?)

Begin to develop courses and create signup pages for each

Publish more of our blog posts.

This webpage is (obvously ) a very different model than this one. Where on this page I'll gladly throw up something that is no good, has typos, and nobody will probably ever read, on her page we want to make sure each post has quality content. As such, We've each been writing posts, then Stef will edit them, add information, remove information, and we'll curate each one to make sure it fits in the business model. Its a lot of work, but the content is starting to come together in a bit of a "path" that will help our clients better understand our mission.

Stef has also already gotten interest from co workers about her services. There are some friends of ours who are looking to buy homes, or just budget better, and they're willing to pay her to learn more. It's great, but also much faster than even I anticipated. As such,  I've told Stef that it might make more sense to do these first few for free, but in lieu of payment see if they'll let us record the interaction. This will 1) give us some footage to put on the page, which really helps with credibility and professionalism of the page, and 2)will let us look back on the interview with the client, and see what we can do better in the future. Everyone wins.

The youtube channel has gotten its first haters, which always means we're on the right path. we also have a slowly trickling in fanbase, so we're getting there. I'm hoping if we keep going it'll start to pick up speed a bit more, just like this blog has thanks to my daily postings. You can see the youtube channel Here

This week I'll also be working on the edits for Stephanie's 10 day free email course which will go out to all subscribers as they sign up. It'll help to add cred, and for her subscribers to better understand our product.  I'm hoping that it will be a broad and shallow coverage of the different things that Stef plans to cover in her blog, as well as an overview of what she will teach to her clients.

We're also planning on doing a weekly or maybe monthly podcast with Stef and myself. We'll talk about different techniques used for landing jobs, writing resumes, cover letters, purchasing homes, and the like. Hopefully we'll also soon have guests on the podcast as well, and maybe even a few clients who wish to share their stories. I'm still new to the podcasting thing, but I do have a nice microphone that I use for Streaming, so I'll just retrofit that for podcasts and we'll be ready.

All in all, a fairly slow week. nothing rolling out or booting up, but my adsense revenue got into dollars a day instead of pennies, which is a pretty big deal. Hopefully we'll see this silly experiment continue to grow.

What do you guys want to see on my wife's page? On the Youtube Channel? On The Blog? Comment and tell me and you'll probably see it. 

Don't Break The Chain

I've been a bit of a chain breaker the past few days. I missed my blog post yesterday, and I didn't get the you tube videos up on the channel that I wanted the past few days. I think I've been getting a little depressed. This winter is starting to get the best of me.



It has been a long winter. There's been a lot of snow. But I'm forgetting that last year we had 6 months worth of days with the weather below freezing. 6 months of winter in the Berkshires. It was ridiculous. of all years winter's, last year's was by far the longest.



But I'm getting off topic. You shouldn't break the chain. It's bad. It makes you lose momentum. It makes you lose track of what your end goal is. It makes you lose focus. and It makes you get depressed.



When I looked at what I had to do today to get back on track, it seemed like a lot. Two blog posts. Fixing and posting Videos. Working on new parts for Stef's website. on and on and on. I need to make a list, I need to make sure I don't miss anything I need to go over everything after its done, make sure its right, and then keep going. Oh yeah, and I need to follow up on a bunch of job postings. And raise my child. And clean the house. No big deal.



It gets overwhelming fast. I'm worried. I'm scared. I'm afraid I won't catch up on everything I need to do. Instead, I'm just starting. I know its noon, the day is half-gone, and I might not get to it all, but at least I've done SOMETHING. at least I've started. That's what really matters. I'll keep working on these things until they're done, because that's all I can do.



When it comes to self motivation, the only real answer is to start. There is no magical motivation gene. There is no magical vat of getupandgo that will solve all of your problems. You just need to go. And Sometimes is hard, really hard. If you don't do it, though, you will fail. I guarantee it. You need to keep working at things constantly or else you will never make it. If you keep going, you can't fail. It might just take a little longer than everyone else.



Now, I had a good excuse for my tardiness in work this weekend. My good friend Dan came to visit, and he's just landed a great job in his industry. Celebration was due, and it was a great time. He's an excellent friend, and I'm glad to have seen him. I'll always make time for friends, because there is nothing more valuable than good friends. I believe that completely. So what If I miss a few things that can be made up quickly?



I do have to admit it made me eel guilty, though. I wanted to stay on track no matter what, but it doesn't always work out. Sometimes things fall by the wayside, get sidetracked, and you miss what you thought were the most important things you could be doing. It happens. But in missing these things, I played with my daughter a little more, I got to see my friend and my daughter get to know each other, I got to enjoy a great breakfast my friend cooked. We went out to dinner, something we haven’t don’t in at least 5 months. we enjoyed great movies together, and rested, and recharged, and went back to our lives feeling better and stronger than we did before. It was important. It might have even been necessary. More for Stef and Dan than for me. I'm glad I could help.



It's hard when you break the chain. You feel bad, you wish you could take it back. And you can't. So I'm glad I felt so bad about it. I'm glad i took it seriously, because that's important. However, you gotta get over it, and just get back on the house and create a new chain. Keep that chain going even longer. Never break it, or maybe only once when its really important. That makes the most sense to me.



When you do something like this every day, you can get hard on yourself. Some posts are incredible. Some you tube videos are better than others. some days and weeks feel more productive. Sometimes you get sidetracked, lose motivation, lose drive, and it gets hard to pick your ass back up. Its happened to me many times in my life. Especially now, about a month ago. And I'm reminded of that. the fear of that scares me and keeps me moving. Wanting to be better for my family keeps me moving. Wanting to be better for myself keeps me moving. It's all so important, because my family, and my friends, and me are all that I have. Not so long ago, I would have put them in different order, but now I know that in the grand scheme of things, you're nothing without others. So invest in them. but make sure you invest in yourself along the way.



There are times in life when being selfish is important, and you gotta make sure that the chain isn't broken. As you grow you realize that you need to make sure that you're taking care of your family and friends too. Sometimes before yourself. It's an interesting transition as you grow: you've built up enough "Self" that you can give more, and help more, and it feels great. It's so important to be able to do that too, because it helps you grow as well. Sometimes more than if you had just invested in yourself. This is one of the greatest revelations I've ever made. I was so sure that you needed to look out for yourself first for so long. Now I know that your family and friends need to be taken care of first. almost always. Because if you don't have them, what do you have at all?



I’ve been alone before, I've been friendless, and I've been fine with it. I've lived on my own, and worked on my own, and its great, the quietness, the aloneness. I enjoy it, actually. But eventually you realize that you need those friends and family to share your achievements with. You need your family to support you when things get hard. You need friends to relax with and to share things with. Its the most important thing you can cultivate is a friend and family network. Because you can have the whole world, but if you can't share it with anyone, you're poorer than a pauper.  not in some measurement scale, but in how you'll feel. You'll feel so empty, and so bare. And when your friends come to share it with you, you'll understand then that your achievement are magnified by the number of people you share them with, not divided. It's one of life's greatest secrets.

It's OK To Be Afraid

I Think we've all been afraid before. If you tell me you haven't you're full of bullshit. I've spent most of my life denying it, though, so I understand. The only thing more difficult than being afraid is pretending you're not when you are. There are plenty of things to be afraid of. The bear that could attack my home in a blind rage for no reason. My wife leaving me. Never finding good, meaningful work. Losing everything.  Losing my mind. These are all things that I'm afraid  of. I think about them all the time.



I think the time when I should have been most afraid, I never felt fear once. When I was alone on the mountain with my mother and struggling to hold onto my sanity with a sick father. Sleeping 3 hours a night, and just not worrying about much. Just letting shit go. Why would I do that? How could I not be freaking out about how bad everything was, how it was never going to get any better, and how I was doomed forever to be a freakish insomniac that would never recover? That's what I would think right now.



Sometimes its too hard to be afraid. Sometimes I think your mind tells you "hey, I know you should be scared, but don't worry so much about that right now, focus more on how to get shit done. And your brain is right. Even when you beat the poor thing to death, and overtax it, give it no sleep, and make it jump through every hoop you can imagine, it'll still point you in the right direction. Its amazing just how strong your brain is. Or maybe that’s my inner strength. I don't know.



But being afraid is good. It tells you when you need to pay more attention to a situation. It tells you when the metal has started to hit meat, and when you need to make sure you're in it to win it. It's more important than most people give it credit. This is the greatest benefit I've gotten from the past month or so: I've realized that when I'm scared, its a great tool. I can realize this fear now, and utilize the energy it gives me to get new things done, because I don't want to be scared anymore. I want it to be right. I want it to be finished so I'm not afraid anymore. I want it all to fit together, to work, to be right. The fear I get gives me that strength.

I was so afraid before, that when I became scared it would be crippling. I would get tunnel vision, I would get dizzy. I would need to go to bed for days on end. That is real, crippling fear. Its terrible. Now, I see the fear, and I accept it, and we make friends. Then, together, we  move forward and make better of the situation. We learn, we change, and we grow together. and thanks to the fear, a friend I had never made before, I'm able to understand just how important it is that i get this shit done, and that I make this shit work, and I go and do it. I don't let it get to me. I let me get to it. And then, with that fear harnessed and pulling me forward, anything is possible.

The Perils Of Home Buying

My wife and I spent the better parrt of 3 years searching for the home that we currently live in. I'm glad we took the time. It has a gorgeous piece of land, in a nice neighborhood. The home is an updated colonial, and thanks to our savvy in getting some great incentives to update the boiler, has a brand new high efficiency heating system. We live in one of the best school districs in the area, and Sophia's grade school is literally in our back yard. It took us a long time to find it though, and we actually had three other homes fall through before we ended up landing this one.

Home buying is hard. Sure, there are plenty of options that one can take to ease the process. Zero down financing, Low money down financing, using hard money lending, Owner will cary....the list goes on and on. and we've explored all of these in our quest for the perfect first home for us. It is a little extreme how long we looked, but we wanted to leave a lot of wiggle room in the pruchase, and also make sure we got what we wanted. Unless you're pounding the pavement every day yourself and knocking on doors looking for a deal, finding the right house, at the right price, and making the right deal is a perfeect storm that really can take more than a year to formulate.

Let me spell out what I mean by that. Stef and I wanted a house that would a) put us in close proximity to her work in Pittsfield, a small city in the Berkshires. We also wanted to make sure we were in a good school system for our daughter. We wanted to find a house that was 90% finished, but probably needed some basic handyman stuff (the extent of my skill level with a hammer) and we wanted to buy this house at a price that would a) leave us at about the same or less monthly expense as when we were renting a home, and b) would appreciate in value reasonably over a 10 year period. We also wanted to make sure that the home would be one that we would be just fine living in for 10 years. This is a long, long list of criteria for a home purchase. I'm glad we waited until every one lined up, though.  I wake up every morning in this house, look around, and just feel good about every part of owning this home with my wife.

Why such strict criteria? Well, if there is one purchase you probably shouldn't comprimise on, its your home. Now I don't mean buy the house with helipad and 5 swimming pools, I mean buy the home that makes sense for your budget, for your lifestyle, and one that makes sense (in some small way) as an investment.

Our journey in home buying was indeed long. We started looking for homes very much in the "starter home" level. However, I knew that we wouldn't be happy in these homes for 10 plus years, so I kept looking at larger, more established homes in better neighborhoods, but these homes always needed too much work (extensive mold damage, no heater, ruined roofs and so forth) and so most of our searches were in vain. We also found a few homes in these price ranges that were great. We would negotiate these homes into a price range we could afford, and three times we had three different sellers back out at the last moment. What an emotional roller coaster. It just wasn't working.

The funny thing is that we didn't realize just how much home we could afford until we took a long hard look at our expenses in the home we were renting. We were renting a cute little ranch house with a garage, and an ancient, incredibly inefficient oil boiler. Stef and I both had never had any dealing intimiately with heating a home, so we just thought the the exorbidant heating cost was the name of the game. My mother's home in Vermont had a similar heat bill (although her home was about three times the size) so I thought nothing of it. It wasn't until I talked with a few of my friends with experience in heating that I found out that spending $6000 a year on heat was not normal, and in fact was skewing how much home we could actually afford.

armed with this knowledge, I dove headfirst into searching for how to set up effeicient heating in a new home that we would buy. I found a great article on Mister Money Mustache (here) that explained how to effectively insulate your home. My wife found out about MassSave, whih is an incentive program funded by the local electric company. This program gives you rebates on boilers, zero interst loans, and even a very low cost insulaion sure up done by professionals. as we did the math and crunched the numbers, we realized that if we were able to use these programs, we could essentially afford a much bigger, better home.

Armed with this information, we went looking in a higher price bracket. We found a few, made a few deals, and eventually someone bit. Thanks to some help from Stephanie's parents, we were able to close on what was really our dream home in three weeks. we used our knowledge we gained in learning about how to heat efficiently to sure up the home, get a new boiler installed with a zero interest loan, and even put blown insulation into the attic to help with heat retention. I installed a whole house exhaust fan as well, which pulls the hot air out of the house in the summer, and kept us to using an air conditioner for about 3 nights this past summer. All in all, we "upgraded" into a house that is about twice the size of the one we were renting, and our monthly expenses are far, far less than when we rented. It was a huge win.

I can't tell you how much buying this house in a wise way changed our lives. It made us feel more financially secure. It made us happier because we own a home we love, and we enjoy caring for it, fixing up things that need to be fixed, and just staying in it for an entire weekend. It really has been one of the best financial successes that either of us have experienced.

If you're looking to buy a home yourself, I would recommend reading up on some of the ways the Mister Money Mustache recommends purchasing. (here)

There are also some great calculators over at Bankrate.com that will help you figure out what makes the most sense. (here)

If you're trying to find homes in your area, and you really don't know where to start, be sure to hire a realtor. They don't cost you anything, even when you buy (the seller pays both realtors) and will be a huge help in picking something that makes the most sense to you and your family.

If you're looking for a comprehensive overview on how to effectively buy your first home, you can learn more about the calculations that my wife and I used to do it best on her blog. (here) She'll be rolling out her new mini-course on how to buy a home soon.

Until Next Time Remember: Take your time, you'll live in the house you buy for a long, long time. Spend commensurate time searching and doing the math.