| Chapter 10
The story of Captain Hook
From my shelf, I removed the notebook when a picture
fell to the floor. It was a picture of
my grandmother standing beside her
house. I don't really know why I put that picture inside
the Mead
composition notebook. It was probably because I had nowhere else to put it, and
being that I had it since grammar school, I had to put the damn thing
somewhere! How I
missed that house, I thought as I reflected back. Hanging
out in there was like an escape for
me as a child. Each room was hauntingly
original in every facet of its primal structure, and yet
aside from the
attic which clearly highlights the main fabric of this tale, I feel a great
urgency to
mention the other rooms as well. Before you could enter the
house, you would first have to walk
along the street while following a
lengthy row of six foot hedges, which encompassed the property
to an
awaiting path. You would then enter in through a small archway and follow that
path around
to the side door, or you could always come in through the porch!
As you walked into the house
from the backyard, you could only go up or down
a narrow staircase. Upstairs is where you
would find the TV room, two
bedrooms, the bath room, the foyer, and the sick room where
my paternal
grandfather passed away from tuberculosis in the spring of
1970.
This room
was painted a cerulean blue in the late 1950's and remained that color until
the house
was demolished in September of 1979. After the death of my
grandfather, my grandmother began
putting my things in there, and from 73'
to 79' it was called the blue room. In the left corner was
my Radio Flyer
wagon, I got when I was three, and on the right wall hung my Flexible Flyer
sled,
which was my father's when he was a young boy.
I had my Johnny Lightning racing track complete with
cars along with my G.I. Joe's, Battling tops,
etch-a-sketch, Silly Putty in
an egg, Play Doh, crayons and a slinky. Least of all, one brand new
unopened
tube of super elastic bubble plastic!
I had lots of toys and things I seldom played with so everything in
that room would be considered
fairly new. Living life was easy and I had a
glorious future ahead of me. I was learning as much
as I could and absorbing
everything. Not only about my schoolwork and classes, but the very
aspect of
women in general.
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It is best if I do not dwell near this river. Though it appears to be
moving calmly and does look
peaceful, it is filled with broken glass. Some
may even attest that within the water flowing past
the walls of its
embankment lies the answer to all of man's woes. In truth, that river is filled
with skeletons. (A sight unseen) As sweet and refreshing as it may very well
be, the water
is infected with sorrow. Let's just say it has turned into
something far worse than blood.
What was once a blessing had become a curse,
and I, would find the heart of true madness.
Unlike most residential homes, the dining room was
located toward the back of the house in
the cellar. I could still see the
gypsum board with its manila colored face paper adorning each
wall. It was
always so smooth and shiny, like shellac had been applied somewhere during its
manufacture. All the various hues that came streaming in on sunlit wings
coated the walls in its
grace. Around midday the sun would illuminate that
room like no other turning a simple dining
area into a Florida room, and at
the end of the day come sundown, the sun would impart to it
an impressive
orange stain. Only for a few minutes a day could that scene be witnessed. It
would
then rapidly lose its lustre before fading into a thin transparent
film of eerie haze. Then disappear
as it would into the gloom of the evening
twilight.
One dark and windy day in the fall of 1970, my
father comes back from New Jersey.
He is carrying a box, and I was getting
ready to go across the street to see my friend.
"Take a look Kathy," he says
to my mom as I walk into the living room. "I got 'em for my mother."
(((Removing the lid))) Ohhhh, he's
adorable! Wow, I said as my eyes lit up! A baby Bulldog!!!
"Come on, let's go
and surprise grandma!" My grandmother loved him, and we named him Sam.
That
dog would watch our every move and when he got excited, he would shake his
ass like he
was doing the Hucklebuck and scuffle around snorting! He was a
great dog, but after putting seven
people in the hospital due to his over
protective nature, he was totally confined to the basement
where he would
live out his days. Then my grandmother found out from a very reliable source
that my father, wanting to save money, bought an interbred dog! The year was
1978.
"You son of a bitch," she screamed! "You bought me a
sick dog!!! That's why he's crazy!
That's why he tries to kill everybody who
comes into this house! This. . . Trap!!! How could
you?" "He's eight years
old ma, I think his bitin' days are over." "They're not over! Not by a long
shot! As long as he's still breathin' they're not over!" "So what do ya want
me to do?" She gave
him an angry stare. "You know what, gimme the
dog. Come on Sam!" "What are you doing?"
"I'm gonna solve a
problem."
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"Let's go!" "Where are you taking him?" "I'm takin'
him to the backyard." "For what reason?"
"Cause that's where I'm gonna shoot
'em. C'mon Sam!" "You're gonna do no such thing! Get
away from him, you're
crazier than he is!!!" Every time my father left, my grandmother grew
another grey hair. She then looked at Sam sitting on the floor. "This is all
your fault!
Yeah, look at me! Your fault! BASTARD!!!"
I will never forget the evening of May 25th, 1979. I
was visiting my grandmother and helping
her with several chores that needed
to be done around the house, when finally it was time for
the CBS evening
news with Walter Cronkite. We watched in horror as he spoke mournfully of
both the passengers and crew members of American Airlines flight 191. The
worst disaster in
U.S. history claiming 271 lives. Around ten O'clock I went
downstairs to the basement and was
preparing to take Sam out to do his
business when I realized he would not budge. As I lifted his
head, I
realized he had passed away. If not for that terrible plane crash, I strongly
doubt I would
have been able to recall the exact day of his untimely
demise.
Considering that my grandparent's house was built in
1923, almost everything inside it was original.
Even the toilet bowl was a
marvel to behold. Not one of those swishy bowls you see today that
uses a
quart of water and barely flushes. You could flush a lamp down this contraption,
and it'll
be halfway to the Atlantic ocean before you could wipe your nose!
Toward the back of the kitchen
was a food pantry and above it an old wooden
decorative vent. On the vent was this antiquated
cobweb. It was unlike any
spider web I had ever seen before! Two inches thick and totally
opaque, it
was a fascinating thing to look at! Whenever I arrived at her doorstep, part of
my visit
would always entail looking up to see if it was still there. When I
was five years old, I asked my
grandmother if she knew how long it's been up
there. She then replied, "that thing? That's been up
there longer than your
father's been breathing!" And so it began, my fascination with the past and
with time. Gently, I blew from my lips a slow but steady current of air,
which would find it seconds
later. This shock wave sent trillions of atoms
coursing through its insubstantial mass of ligaments that
had been held
together like a decaying piece of old tissue, which seemed to be dangling from
its own
invisible threads. "Let me dampen a rag and clean it," she said. No
I screamed out, and she stopped!
Then it was up the winding staircase to the attic,
where I would watch first run episodes of Star
Trek as they aired in an
atmosphere of total peace. Nothing disturbed the tranquil order of things
here, for as time rolled on in the outside world, it didn't move much in the
house. Sitting on the
sofa with my legs outstretched to the hassock, I
watched television in living color and everything
was wonderful! Sometimes
I'd lift the lid on the old footstool to find that Grandmother had left
candy inside of it. No homework nor house chores impeding would keep me from watching
"Get
Smart" after school! Always talking on that amazing shoe phone! Agent 99, do you
read
me? The mild buzzing of an electric Kit Cat klock kept me company. Her
eyes ever watching
my every move with tail swaying and a smile. She seemed
to enjoy it too!
I could go
anywhere I wanted in here,
and Grandmother let me come and go as I
pleased.
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By the window and to the
right was a trap door painted pink. Thirty inches high and twenty four
inches wide were its
dimensions. With a small flashlight that was always on hand, I would turn
the wooden peg and pull the door open. On my hands and knees, I'd crawl
looking for treasure.
Maybe they put something new up here I can rummage
through! Though I rarely found anything
that wasn't already up there. An old
Bamberger's box that hadn't been moved in years. Four tins
of Horn &
Hardart coffee that had an assortment of lead sinkers in each of them. An
unopened
can of O-Cedar Mop polish, etc. On the wall hung a curved sickle
with a bright red handle.
I remember asking my grandmother once why she hung
it there and her reply was, "I hide it
from your father. If he sees it, he's
gonna take it, and then I'm shit outta luck."
In the adjacent room was the same type of hidden
door painted the color of bittersweet to
match the walls as well. In that
closet were twelve shoe boxes, some of which said Crowley's
shoes for ladies
and Church's English shoes for men, along with a few other boxes and biscuit
tins of ages past. All the way in the back was a mahogany box that to this
day has me mystified.
There was no lock or latch but rather a very distinct
type of old fashioned lip seal. One day I
decided I had to look in this box,
so I dragged it over to where the particles of lint and other
foreign matter
could be seen hanging gracefully in the sunny air of daylight and proceeded
to pull it open. What I found was an astonishing collection of old books in
mint condition by
a man named Edward Gorey. I can remember four titles in
particular. The Doubtful Guest -
The Curious Sofa - The Hapless Child, and
my all time favorite, The Gashlycrumb Tinies!
A child's book of the alphabet
where every page turned is a black and white illustration of a
different
child in a precarious situation. "A" is for Alice who fell down the stairs, and
so on!
So captivated was I in its spell that I would read it everyday after
coming home from school
before finally doing the unthinkable. Yes, I took
the book to school. I was in second grade at
the time and my teacher was so
shaken by it that I was taken from that class and put in a special
room
until my father arrived. All the boys liked it and thought I was cool, while the
girls thought
it was a sick and twisted book. I can still hear my father
lamenting about it in the car. "About
twenty minutes ago I got in a warm
shower. No sooner do I turn the water on that I hear your
step-mother
screamin' like a fucking lunatic! She sounded so distraught, I couldn't
understand
half-a-what she was saying. Ya know, ya keep goin' like this and
we're gonna have a problem!
I know you're only seven years old, and I
understand that you're still developing mentally!
I really do, but you
should be able to know the difference at this stage of the game between
what's right and what's just completely fucked up. . . I mean do you?
Seriously."
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Needless to say, the box was removed from the attic
that week, and I never saw it again. Neither
would Grandmother ever see that
red handled sickle of hers again either. The following year
my Aunt Gloria
came down from California as she always did during the summer. So anyway,
grandma boots as we all called her was up there looking for it for whatever
reason she had
in mind when out of the blue we heard, "that
son-of-a-bitch!!! He took my sickle, I knew it!
He oughta drop dead!!!" My
aunt and I were laughing so hard we couldn't stop! "Oh mom,"
she said calmly
as if speaking to me, "you curse like a longshoreman!"
The reason why everyone called my grandmother
"Grandma Boots" was due to an incident
involving me as an infant. My mother
claims to have taken
me over there when I was only
four months old. Anyway, my mother told me
that all the aunts and uncles were congregated
together for my grandmother's
official birthday party. My grandmother just so happens to
be born on leap year Now on
this particular Saturday at the height of the festivities just when
everyone was
making a big fuss over me, my mother said I astounded them all! I pointed to
my
grandmother who had just finished boasting about a new pair of boots she had bought for
herself, and said defiantly, "Gaama Boots!"
According to
my mother the whole house went crazy! It must have sounded really good to
me,
because that was all I said for the remainder of the entire year! From that
moment on, no one
ever called her Mildred again, but rather, Grandma Boots.
Eventually, the phrase evolved thanks
to my cousin Roberta, who at some
point in the early seventies changed it to grandma bootsie.
Upon entry to the adjacent room was a full sized bed with a fancy wooden
headboard. My father's
bed while growing up in the house and a very odd
walk-in closet. My father called it the suffocation
room. One day when I was
three or four years old, I inquired by asking him what was behind those
doors. "Listen" he said, "because I'm only gonna say it once. Under no
circumstance whatsoever
are you to even think of going into this room. Do
you understand?" But why? "Because it's very,
very dangerous! Do I make
myself perfectly clear? Not only are there some very sharp tools in
there.
There's also mice in there, not to mention the exposed wiring and half a dry
rotted floor,
so unless ya wanna fall through the floor and land on your
grandmother's dining room table, I
suggest you stay outta there." Not
knowing what to say I just nodded my head in agreement.
"I'm just making
sure that we understand each other" he said, and that was the end of it.
Pg 51
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"Sleeping in the attic"
Once when I was five years old, my mother locked my
father out of the house, and we
were forced to stay at my grandmother's
house. It was quite convenient at the time for
it was only one house down
and on the same side of the street. To make a long story
short, we had to
sleep in the attic, and I as a child had to go to the bathroom quite often.
Anyway, the story had already been told to me about Captain Hook and the
suffocation
room, so there was no way he could reverse it. If you take into
consideration that the
bathroom was on the second level under this bedroom,
and my father could only
fall asleep in complete darkness, then you would
understand my dilemma.
At around four O'clock in the morning, I woke up and
had to pee. Being that I was afraid
of the dark, I started to shake my
father and told him he had to go downstairs with me.
That I couldn't go down
there alone. What he did next was amazing! Child psychology at
its best. He
then proceeded to remove the magnificent solid gold Christ head pendant from
around his neck and put it around mine. "Now," he said, "you're protected
from devils,
hobgoblins, monsters under the bed and most of all Captain Hook
in the closet, now go."
"What about you," I said, sounding most concerned?
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."
"What if Captain Hook comes out?" "If
Captain Hook comes out, I'll kick him in his balls
and throw him through the
window! Now for the second time, go." "What if something
gets me anyway?"
"Aww, Jee-zus Cah---rist! That would be a
human impossibility! Do you
understand what impossible means? It means that it
can't under any circumstance happen,
now for the third time,
go!" As I stepped down from the bed into that pitch black darkness,
I was
without fear. Then, with total confidence, I descended the old winding
staircase.
One that squeaked and gave an occasional snapping sound.
Finally, I reached the bottom where I did my
business and returned in total obscurity! As I
climbed back into bed, I felt
the chimera's scurry around the room, and could almost see one
cleaving unto
the bedpost. Who's in charge now, I thought to myself with a wry smile?
"Hand
it over," my father said to me. I looked at him in astonishment,
before asking if I could give the
medallion back in the morning. "If you
think for one minute that you're gonna be foolin' around
while I'm sleepin'
ya got another thing comin,' now give it up!" As I gently removed the
pendant
from around my neck and handed it back to my father, the monsters
under the bed slowly returned.
Not to mention Captain Hook, who could now be
heard gritting his teeth
ever so disdainfully from the
closet!
Pg 52
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"The suffocation room"
Only once did I ever go in there. I was with my
father, and I remember him closing the
bedroom door and pulling the roller
blinds down on that main window. The sun was out in
full force, which meant
my confidence level was up and just knowing that darkness would
not fall
anytime soon was enough to keep me from being frightened of almost
anything!
As I recall, it was a hot summer day in July, 1969.
My father had just opened the first set
of doors, and all that was visible
to the naked eye was a ladies' coat closet. Sliding back
a row of coats, the
sweet smell of mothballs and cedar dominated the air. A second door
could
now be seen. Pulling a slide bolt from above and turning a handle would open
this
door, where warm air could now be felt trying to escape. Behind this
door was the strangest
door I had ever seen. It was about three inches thick
and solid for it was made of old maple!
There was an image carved on the
door of a demon head, kind of like the one you would
expect to see on a
Victorian throne chair! It was a one of a kind, custom made door, crafted
in
the late 1850's for my great-great grandfather by R.J. Horner & Co.
This
image was also surrounded by a double roped border.
The inner border seemed to be glowing a vibrant, dark red,
while the outer ring appeared to be stable in composition
and quite impenetrable to the elements of time and heat.
As the door was pulled open an updraft was created,
and we got an eyeful of dust
and fine insulation particles. It felt like we
had just stepped into a musty wooden
sauna that was beginning to feel more
like a crematorium with each tight swallow!
I was six years old at the time we crept in slowly.
All I could hear and feel was the sound of my
own timid breathing and
accelerated pulse that seemed to be making my
carotid artery dance.
"We have to be very quiet," said my father in a
low frightened voice, "cause the last thing you
wanna do is wake up Captain
Hook." Dad was cool back then, and he talked like one of the
owery boys! Mom
was attracted to him because he was somewhat of a rebel and nothing
ever
really bothered him much. Nowadays, he is the epitome of ill-will. There is only
so much blame we can put forth on the human condition before we have to
start
analyzing our own hearts.
The story of Captain Hook in the words of my father. . .
He's got a patch over one eye that a big black
spider lives in, and his face is so deformed with
long cuts and terrible
scars that his nose is only half there. Most of his hair is gone and his scalp
is riddled with infections! There are patches of oozing flesh where his ears
used to be and his
bottom lip is completely gone. Torn off in a pirate
fight! He'd love nothing more than to eat little
children in the closet. Eat
'em alive as they scream while he's pullin' out their guts! First he rips
your eyes out and then your tongue! Then after that he eats your face!
Ahhhhhhhh!!!
Pg 53
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Dad told the story as if he were narrating a
sideshow in Coney Island, way before everything
became candy coated. His
face all contorted in tale made it great to see and hear!
You gotta tell
Steve that story dad! Steve was my friend who lived next door to us in the same
duplex apartment, and he was four. "You're the only one who knows the story
of Captain Hook
and besides, little Stevie tells his mother that story, and
they'll be lookin' to put me in jail."
Slowly, we proceed to enter in past the third door,
and I could feel my heart beating out of my
chest. Inching forward, it felt like I was entering another dimension where I immediately froze!
He grabbed my arm as he shined the flashlight
towards the end of the closet. Slumped over in a
chair was none other than
the notorious Captain Hook! His skull was torn open, and he actually
looked
worse than my father had described!!! The worst thing my delicate young mind
could ever
see or witness without cracking! He clutched my wrist and then
pulled me in front of him! Face to
face was I now with the most frightening
creature I had ever seen before in my life! I was paralyzed
with numbing
terror as I stood trembling in the failing light. Far beyond anything my fragile
little mind
could ever possibly imagine or manufacture on its own, and right
now this monster was eye to eye
with me! Staring me down from less than six
feet away! He twitched! I just saw him twitch!!!
"He's in a deep sleep now," whispered my dad in a very low voice,
"so don't
even breathe. If he wakes up, he's gonna lunge for us
and
probably rip our throats out of our head."
Suddenly, and without warning this thing springs up
to its feet, and my heart exploded!!!
I thrashed like a rodeo bronco and
left my father for dead as I bolted from that closet taking
no prisoners!
Running toward those vermicular stairs and falling down most of them, I swiftly
opened the narrow door that led to this sinister place and slammed it shut
behind me, keeping
my back ever so tightly pressed against it! Just in case,
after it finished eating my father, it
should happen to come look for me!
All at once, a ghastly bellow is heard from behind that
door along with
heavy pounding! I then released an ear piercing scream!!! I was white from
fear as my grandmother consoled me. As my father slowly came peering out
from behind the
old attic door, he said in a grimacing tone, "Whatsamatter,
don'tcha wanna meet Captain Hook!"
You know Richard, said my grandmother in
a state of total duress, you're really stupid! Look at
him!!! Can't you see
he's terrified? After giving my father a piece of her mind for doing what he
did, she made him carry down the dummy to show me that it wasn't real. "Ya
see, he said, I pull
the fishing line that's attached to his neck and
Captain Hook jumps up like he's alive!" We gotta
do that to Steve, I
bolstered with enthusiasm! Can we dad? Can we? "Yeah-heah," said my
father
while laughing most heartily. "And then we'll have to move."
Pg 54
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Inkpop reviews for chapter 10
Evie J - I really enjoyed that! I
had to finish reading it because I couldn't stop. It was very
interesting
and different. I like it a lot! I'm definitely going to check out your other
chapters.
Reviews for chapter 10 via email
William Davis - If you made this into a movie you would win the academy award!
Charles Pendelton - If I made this into a movie, I would be going to jail.
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PG 47) Tuberculosis poster (circa 1930's)
PG 47) 1904 Vintage Ad for Flexible Flyer Sled
PG 48) Vita Memoriae by Vladimir Kush
PG 49) Kit Cat Klock @ http://www.kit-cat.com/
PG 50) Page 11 from The Gashleycrumb Tinies by Edward Gorey
PG 51) S. A. Byers Fine Boots and Shoes - (Original business card)
PG 51) The Forgotten Door by Autumn Alchemy
PG 52) Fear no evil by Paul Cheng
PG 52) Monster under the bed by zilla774
PG 53) R.J. Horner & Co. advertisement (circa 1887)
PG 54) Illuminatus-R-Us by Michael Pucciarelli
PG 54) The Word by Judson Huss
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