Lisa's "Private" Thoughts October 12th, 2011 "Vintage Clothing, Nathan, and Burlesque"

Uncle Nathan is the coolest guy ever!  

Back when we'd been in Europe he'd promised to take me to some places that had vintage clothing and today he did just that.  It was a raining today so we didn't have to worry about the sun bothering him as we drove around.  At the first place we stopped I found this really nice-looking old bustle skirt in black that fit just perfect.  Unfortunately, it was a little out of my price range, but not Nathan's.  He bought if for me.  

"It looked perfect on you," he explained.  "And I would know, I spent a lot of time looking at women from the front, from behind, all around in fact."

I gently slugged him on the arm for that one and called him a pervert to which he replied, "Excuse me, I did work in theater for a coupled of decades doing a lot of different jobs, including helping with people's outfits.  I had to make sure they looked right before they went on stage."

"Sure, you did," I teased back.

"Right, that does it," he announced and took me to a theater that was running a burlesque show.

Now before anyone freaks out, the show wasn't going to be on until later.  So the only people there were a couple of the girls who were rehearsing and the troupe's leader, a woman named Olivia.  Much to my surprise when she spotted Nathan her face lit up and she came running over to give him a big hug crying, "Uncle Nate!  Oh, how I've missed you.  Hey, everyone Nate's here!"

I swear one of these days I'm going to find out exactly how many people are part of his 'extended family' besides mine.  Back in Europe there were quite a few, but now I'm beginning to think that the the actual numbers are much larger.  

In this case it made sense.  Apparently a number of friends and cousins were in charge of this burlesque troupe.  I don't think all of them know his real secret as a couple of the people mentioned how unusual it was to see him in the day.  "You usually only come around at night when we have a show going," one mentioned.

Uncle Nate merely waggled his eyebrows and said, "Well, you have to admit the sites around here are much more interesting at night."

While everyone burst out laughing, I was given the grand tour backstage while Nathan was giving people a hand here and there with the backstage equipment and event he costumes.  Apparently he was telling the truth as several of the girls asked for his opinion and help with some of their outfits.  I think a few were trying to flirt, but mostly they did want his advice and help.

It was interesting to see all the inner workings of a theater backstage.  I'd never been behind the scenes before, so this was a real treat for me.  

Plus I got to see inside one of the dressing rooms where they kept all the clothing and make-up.   One of the things they all stressed to me was although I wanted to go for an authentic look I should also keep in mind, be able to move and breathe.  

"We don't just get out there and start stripping, we're dancing," one girl told me.  "We do splits and a lot of other acrobatics.  And some of us are wearing corsets and those can be constricting so if you're not careful you could make your life really miserable.  So choose items that allow movement and fabrics that breathe and you'll be okay."

I thought this was great advice, because the theater teacher at my high school has been complimenting me on my outfits lately.  She says I have an eye for style and authentic looks and has been hinting I should maybe join her class.  I told her I'd think about it and now I really am.  This could be a great experience for me and open up some doors down the road.  I may do it since I have more time to myself these days.  Marisa is still being distant, but at least now I know what's going on.  Her dad is fighting cancer and she's spending as much time with him as possible in case things go bad.   

I'd love to be there for her, but my parents say I should respect her wishes to be with her family more, so I'm giving her her space.  I'm still going to try and be there for her as much as possible, especially at school.  But I'm going to do as my parents say and giver her her space.  I just hope things go well so we can start hanging together again.  I really miss her.

Nathan's Private E-Journal, April 12th, 2014 - "Fathers and Sons"

                                       

I was making my way back to "The Crypt", after having visited my family's plot tonight.  Everything was just as I'd left it a few months ago.  Except for the weeds which I made short work of.  And of course the flowers needed a little freshening up, so I circled the graves and released some of my green mist, which brought them back into a healthy bloom.  

Went inside the mansion briefly because I thought I saw a figure at one of the windows.  A small figure... holding a... never mind.  I didn't find anyone inside, so I headed back towards town.

Naturally, my thoughts drifted to the days of my youth, before I left for the war.  Unfortunately, not all my memories were happy ones.  Mind you I have a lot of good memories, but there are a few involving my father that still sting from time to time.  He loved me, of that I have no doubts.  Heaven knows he told me and showed me enough times, but there were some days when I could see and sense his disappointment in me.  I wasn't always the son he really wanted me to be, but I had limitations that he couldn't understand at the time.  Of course, I no longer suffer those problems these days, but it would've been nice to let him see how far I'd come.

I had just reached the downtown area of Pointer, when I spotted a figure carrying a guitar case I knew only too well.  It was young Teddy and he was looking pretty down as he walked.  Concerned I started to quicken my pace, only to be passed by a car which pulled up next to my young friend.  Immediately, a man got out of the car and started scolding my young friend rather vociferously. 

Even though they're a fair distance from where I'm standing, my hearing is exceptionally keen and I hear everything as if I was standing right there with them.

"I told you it could wait until tomorrow," the older man says in a very annoyed voice.  "But, no, you have to make a scene."

"You were already making a scene by yelling at me in front of everyone, Dad!" Ted shot back.

I wince at that.  Family arguments have never been my favorite thing to walk in on, much less be a part of.  I consider taking a different route home at that point but then Ted's father says, "I told you not bother with getting a guitar months ago.  It's not going to win you any scholarships for college.  Now if you'd get into football like I keep telling you..."

"Dad I've got Fibromyalgia, I don't have the..."

"That's a made up thing, and even if it was real, only girls and women get it," his father yells, cutting him off.

That tore it for me.  Suddenly, the scenery on either side of me blurs and in the blink of an eye I find myself standing next Ted and his father.  

Luckily the two are so focused on each other neither even notice that I've suddenly appeared on the scene.  "Good evening, gentlemen," I say clearing my throat meaningfully to get their attention.

Ted reacts first.  "Oh, hello, Mr. Backman.  I was just coming to return the guitar you loaned me," he says in a quiet voice.

"Whatever for?  Don't tell me you've given up playing?  You're really good," I tell him, mainly because it's true.  But I also know what playing music does for him.  It gives him a way of forgetting about his Fibromyalgia for a while.  Everyone who fights a daily battle like his needs a coping mechanism and I don't want to see him lose this particular one.

"He's not going to have time to be playing music," his father replies, before Ted can speak.  "I appreciate the fact that you let him practice with that thing, but it's not helping."

"Not helping?" I repeat curiously.  "From what Ted has told me in the past, it helps him deal with his condition..."

"He doesn't have a condition, he's just too lazy and delicate," his father cuts in again.

I nod and reply, "It's my understanding he has Fibromyalgia.  Is that not the case?"

"Fibromyalgia, if it exists at all..."

"For crying out loud, Dad.  Mom has it, you said so yourself," Ted exclaims.  

"Of course she has, but it's a condition women get, not men!" his father explodes. 

"I have it," I say quietly. "In fact I've had it all my life, even when I was little.  Growing pains they called it.  Told me I'd grow out of it, but I never did.  It's been my constant companion every day of my life."

Ted's father studies me for a moment and then says, "You don't look like your sick or in any pain."

"Looks can be deceiving," I reply cryptically and take a step towards him.

****TO BE CONTINUED****

News and a New Tale Coming Soon...

Hello everyone, I hope you've been enjoying the stories shared here for the past few months, even if they are re-runs so to speak. Still, I'm hoping that they have been new to a number of our visitors. 

I'm popping in today to give you all a heads up as to what's been happening for me. I've been going through procedures for a back and leg problem, and have another one scheduled for tomorrow. Hopefully this one might be the 'silver bullet' that corrects the problem. If not, then the doctors are going to have to look into some more invasive procedure options to alleviate the pain which should then allow me to return to work and being more mobile.

In the meantime, I have just about wrapped up my "A Christmas Carol" project, which will be made available to all for free over on YouTube. This will be an unabridged reading of Mr. Dickens classic tale, complete with images from Wikimedia and other public domain sites. The only thing I have left to do for each chapter is record an opening and closing where I will be discussing the novella as well as the importance of Mr. Dickens work at the time of its release. I'll also be briefly exploring themes and why ghost stories were associated with Christmas even before the novella was ever created.

In the meantime, we have another spooky holiday coming up next month and in celebration of the season I wanted to let you all know that I am preparing a werewolf story involving Nathan and Marisa in Alaska.

So I hope you'll keep visiting this site as my goal is to get the tale written within the next week or two while I recover from tomorrow's procedure. My intention is to have the entire story written and then break it up into as many installments for this blog, with the finale being released on October 30th.

Until next time, take care and stay safe everyone.

The Artist - August 2009 Part IX

 I/we made our way over to the plastic covered figure and carefully unwrapped it. Somewhere behind us Brian took in a deep breath, followed by the words, "Oh my God... it's... it's going to be one of your best pieces."

I felt/heard Nathan share the same sentiments inside our shared head. "Agreed."

"But there's still so much to do," I told them both, glancing over at the wall next to the sculpture. There was a bulletin board with several photos of my grandfather, at least one of them in uniform. The rest were a couple of him even younger, as well as several of him later in life. I had gathered them to try and help me capture the spark of determination in his eye, the set of his jaw, as well as the... the spirit of the man who would come out of not just one but two great wars. I wanted to capture the man he was and would become all in one shot.

But now I hesitated and looked down at my/our hands. I knew they could work the clay, but would they have 'my' touch?

"Of course they will," Nathan assured me. "This is where I take a backseat. You're in charge. Just think of your grandfather and go for it."

As soon as I heard those words in my head, I saw my grandfather in my mind as clear as day. Clearer than I'd ever been able to remember him. Honestly, I could see every detail in his face that I wanted to capture and just knew what needed to be done. 

What happened over the next twelve hours will remain with me forever. Never had the clay felt so soothing and yielding to my touch. It and I were in harmony like never before. Had Brian not fallen asleep, letting out the occasional snore, I would never have realized how much time was passing. Nathan and I only paused briefly to allow him to take over and drink what our body needed, before going back to work. 

Every now and again, I'd start to wonder if he wasn't helping guide my hands, but I knew better. I could sense his wonder at what his hands were helping create under my direction.  Finally, we took step back and into Brian who had been fast asleep on the couch nearby. I'd it in the studio from day one, knowing there'd be times when I would need to stay overnight from time to time. I admit it, when I get going I don't like to let up some days.

"What the... huh?" Brian muttered then his eyes fell on the sculpt. "Oh my God! It's... it's perfect!" he breathed.

"You're telling me," Nathan murmured out of our shared mouth. I could actually feel his sense of awe which only added to my delight in this moment. I'd succeeded! But there was still more work to be done.

Walking over to the shelves I pulled out a long thin wire with wooden handles tied to each end. Then I headed back over to the piece and started stretching the wire from the head of the piece down to its base. 

"Um... what are we doing?" Nathan asked aloud. I realized this was for Brian's sake, as he was looking as puzzled as Nathan was feeling.

"This," I replied and pulled on the handles of the wire, which slowly sank into the clay, neatly severing the sculpture into two sections. 

"OH MY GOD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Nathan cried, making us take a step back. But I quickly took over and brought us back just in time to catch the back half of the piece before it fell onto the table. 

Before I could explain, Brian cut in saying, "Oh... that's so you can remove the armature inside the statue."

Inside our head, I heard Nathan spluttering, "The who... what... where? Wait, this was supposed to happen?"

Patiently, I explained, "You don't get two feet of clay to stay upright all on it's own. Take a closer look. See, there's metal rod attached to the base that runs inside the entire sculpt."

"Okay, yeah I see that," Nathan responded, still sounding a bit shocked.

"Well, that has to come out before I put the piece in the kiln for one thing. For another, I have to start hollowing out the entire piece."

"Hollowing it out?" Nathan repeated, this time aloud for Brian's benefit.

"That's right, like this," I gently held the one half that had come off the main piece into one hand, while I grabbed a tool from nearby in the other. From there I proceeded to scrape out some of the interior of the piece I was holding. 

Remembering to speak out loud, I continued, "Now, I'm going to remove just enough clay so that the remaining shell is just under an inch thick all around. Then I'm going to do the same to the other half that's still on the armature. This it to keep it from cracking when it goes into the kiln. I'm also going to poke a bunch of 1/2 in deep holes to also prevent cracking."

Naturally, I did as I promised, allowing both Nathan and Brian to see what I meant. Then I did the same to the other half. When both were nicely hollowed out and pricked, I began scouring the edges of both halves where the wire had cut them, and then brushed the edges with a water. "Since this is a water-based clay, this will allow me to put them back together," I explained.

"But what about the seams where the two halves meet?" came Nathan's voice out of our mouth.

"I was wondering the same thing," added Brian, who had been watching the entire process intently.

"I'll add more clay and smooth it all out, and then rework it into the rest of the design," I told them. 

An hour later, the piece was whole again, without the slightest hint that it had been cleaved in two. 

"So now you put it in the kiln?" Nathan asked out loud.

"Yes, but we're going to use a low heat to dry it out. The process is called 'candling'. Then once the clay is really good and dry, we'll start the firing schedule," I replied.

"The what?" Nathan asked out loud again.

I winced inwardly. Obviously, neither of them had any clue how long this was going to take. Plus, I was starting to get worried about my physical form back at the hospital. The three of us really needed to talk things out before anything else could happen.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The Artist - August 2009 Part VI

When I woke up, it was evening again. Apparently, I'd slept through the entire day - aside from being woken up to be given medicines or have my temperature taken. Around seven o'clock Jack, Brian and Nathan came into my room and closed the door behind them. That was when I knew something big was up. Especially with the looks on both Brian and Jack's faces. The two of them kept glancing uneasily at Nathan, which started making me nervous about him all over again. 

Something in my eyes must've shown because Nathan paused as he started to sit down next to my bed again. Frowning, he looked from me to the other two and back. Finally he said, "Great, now I know how you two guys felt when I was in mental contact with her, this morning. Now is anyone going to let me in on the secret or are we going to play charades? Which would be really tough on her, considering her condition."

I made a little noise to get his attention and then began inhaling deeply to get my point across.

"Oh, right," Nathan nodded and once more one of his hands misted allowing me to breath it in and communicate more freely.

"Why are they staring at you so anxiously?" I asked mentally, trying to keep my own anxiety in check.

Nathan gave the other two a look and turned back to me. "Because, I told them what I have in mind to help you finish your art piece in time for the exhibition," he said gently. "However, neither of them are all that sure you're going to like my proposal, or at least what it involves."

While I couldn't move my jaw without severe pain, I had no problem raising a questioning eyebrow at him. Finally I thought, "Care to elaborate?"

He thought for a moment before saying, "Depends. Do you want the full-scale slideshow presentation or the bottom line version?"

"Bottom line, please," was my reply.

"I'm going to give you access to my eyes and control of my hands," Nathan answered.

"Come again?" I asked mentally.

Leaning forward he explained. "As you said yesterday, I don't have the skills to manipulate the clay and do what's needed to get your sculpture ready.  But you do. You know how the clay should feel and how to handle the tools and whatnot. However, you can't leave this bed, at least not physically. But,  what if I took you with me to the studio 'mentally' so to speak?"

I admit I was both puzzled and intrigued. "Do you mean like how we're communicating right now? Through this bond you made?" 

"It will be something a bit stronger," he replied and leaned forward. "You'd actually be able to see through my eyes and even feel whatever I touch or manipulate with my hands."

For a moment I was tempted, then shook my head. "You still wouldn't know how to manipulate the clay or the tools..." I began.

"But you would if I let you control my hands," he cut in patiently. "Which is what I plan to do. Once we were in the studio I'd let you take over, up to a point. I'd get everything ready, under your guidance, but when it came time to actually work on the sculpture you'd be in charge. I'd be sort of in the background watching and experiencing what you do."

It sounded insane, yet at the same time I was intrigued. Then a thought hit. "What about my body back here? What will be happening to it?" 

"You'd basically be asleep," Nathan assured me. "You'd still be breathing and everything, It would just be your conscious self would be awake seeing and feeling through me."

I had to admit it sounded like a very good idea. Yet I couldn't stop glancing over at Brian and Jack, who were still looking uneasy, even worried.

They must've caught me staring at them because Brian finally spoke up. "Before anyone gets too excited, Nathan you might want to tell her what has to happen for this little experiment to take place." 

Immediately, my heart sank. For Brian to look this worried, it had to be something bad. Turning my gaze to Nathan I thought, "Is there something you haven't brought up yet?"

Without blinking my would-be savior shifted uncomfortably and then glared at the other two. For a second he put me in mind of the cartoon mouse "The Brain" shooting a dirty look at his partner "Pinky". A silent exchange of heated gestures passed between the three of them, before Nathan finally turned back to me and smiled sheepishly. "As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, there is..."

"And what is it?" Even without being able to move my mouth, I managed to put an pointed edge to the question.

"To make this happen, I'll need to bite you," he winced.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The Artist - August 2009 Part IV

I really hadn't meant for it to happen, but I couldn't help myself. 

I'd seen Nathan many times since the day he rescued me and Brian, but it always took all of my self control not to shrink away from him. I knew Brian looked up to him as a hero, so I'd always tried to hide it. To be honest, part of me thought of him as a hero too, but... the memory of his feeding off the guy was carved just too deep into my memory. And this time, all three of them had seen my reaction.

Brian and Jack looked puzzled, but Nathan clearly knew. But the expression on his face wasn't one of anger or annoyance, it was one of pity. Without a word, he pulled the curtains shut around us and looked down at me with sad eyes. 

"You saw," he said in a quiet voice, "I'm so sorry."

Brian stared from him to me with a look of confusion on his face. "Saw what?" he asked finally.

Naturally I couldn't answer, but Nathan could. Although his voice was heavy with regret as he did so.

"The same thing you did," he told Brian. "The time the two of you were abducted by that sex trafficking bunch, and..." 

"You came for us," my childhood friend finished nodding his head. I could see the memory was still fresh in his memory. A faraway haunted look crept into his eyes. Then he turned to me and said, "But, I thought I kept you from seeing anything. I was holding you to my chest."

He had, but even with his arms covering my head I'd been able to see through the crack between them, and wished I hadn't ever since. 

"I wasn't exactly quiet," Nathan said, breaking the moment, "And of course you saw what happened, Brian. I suspect your guard might have dropped enough for her to get an eyeful. Am I right?" 

That question was directed at me and I nodded.

At that point, Jack came forward and pulled out his stethoscope. "I'd like you to listen to something," he told me and held out the ear pieces at me.

I wasn't sure what he had in mind, but I nodded and allowed him to gently place them in my ears. Then he turned to Nathan who he instructed to open his shirt. 

"Hey... when did this place become Chippendale's?" Nathan protested, but opened his shirt anyway. Then he leaned forward asJack placed the other end of the stethoscope on his chest. "Woo... that is cold. Do you keep that thing in a freezer or something?" 

"Shhh... let her listen," Jack replied while I did as he instructed.

The sound of a healthy beating heart came loud and clear through the instrument. 

"An undead creature, wouldn't have a heartbeat like that would it?" Jack asked me.

I wasn't really sure. After all, a stake through the heart killed vampires didn't it? So I merely shrugged.

Undaunted, Jack moved the diaphragm of the stethoscope to the other side of Nathan's chest. "Hear anything?"

I listened, but I just heard breathing this time.

"Nathan, would you move your heart to where I'm positioned?"

I don't know who looked more puzzled, me or the man I was still trying to figure out. But after a moment, he nodded.

After a few seconds later, I heard the pulsing heart just as loud as before. But even more importantly, I actually heard its approach just before it... got into position. Torn between horror and amazement I just stared at the two men. 

Still I was afraid and Jack knew it. He asked Nathan to leave and wait in the hallway, which he did.

After he left Jack turned back to me and smiled. "I know you think he's a vampire. That's why I asked him to leave. That way you can be sure that he hasn't hypnotized you into believing what Brian and i are about to tell you. In a way, your suspicion is partly correct. But I want to ask you, could such an undead creature physically move the location of its heart?"

I thought about all the movies and stories I'd read. If vampires could do such a thing, killing them would be much harder, nearly impossible. Finally, I shook my head.

Jack smiled reassuringly. "But what about a man who never died, but wound up sharing his body with a life-form which requires him to take in blood as part of his nutritional requirements?"

That made me raise my eyebrows as I found my thinking in terms of science fiction instead of horror stories.

As I did so, Brian chimed in saying, "The life-form also allows him to alter his shape and even move and change his organs around."

What followed was the most amazing story I'd ever heard in my life. I won't go into details here, because I know others in Nathan's 'Extended Family' have already shared it more than once. And they, and their descendants will be the only ones to read this, so I don't need to go into things further. Besides, I'm here to share my experience.

After Brian and Jack finished telling me all about Nathan and some of the things he could do, I simply lay there for a few moments taking it all in. If just half of what they had told me was true, then he might be able to help me once more.

"Should I ask Nathan to come back in?" asked Jack after a few moment. 

I nodded ever so carefully. My heart beating with anticipation.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The Artist - August 2009 Part III

Of course the accident happened shortly after that and I wound up in the hospital. And as you know I received dozens of visitors who constantly reassured me that everything would be all right. Such words and sentiments were always welcome and helped make the day pass more easily. 

But night-time was another matter. Everything would be quiet, aside from the staff making their rounds. Occasionally one would wake me up to draw blood or give me my medications, but for the most part I was on my own with only my thoughts for company. That's when dealing with my situation became much harder.  

That's when all those little fears we keep hidden away come out to plague us. And believe me I had a lot of them which kept me company for hour after hour. Most of them involved not being able to use my hands to sculpt. I won't tell you how many times I wound up crying myself to sleep, but it happened a lot. I tried to keep quiet about it (which should have been easy with my mouth wired shut), but one person found out.

I woke one morning to someone gently dabbing the sides of my eyes with handkerchief. It was Brian. Dr. Jack Tyler, my physician and our mutual friend, had allowed him in before visiting hours had officially begun. Jack had noticed the tear soaked tissues before and had tried to draw me. I would've have loved to have told him what was wrong, but first and foremost he was my doctor. A doctor in frequent demand so we kept getting interrupted. After a while I just stopped trying.

Luckily, Jack is someone who doesn't give up easily, especially when you're his patient as well as his friend. So he'd gone out of his way to get Brian here to make sure they found out what was troubling me. By this time I was able to make some sounds, but understanding me was not easy. Yet somehow we managed. 

 

As it turned out, both of them suspected I was worried about my works in progress back at the studio. With this in mind, Brian had gone to check on things for me. He even took photos on his phone and shared them with me.  

While I was relieved to see everything was still untouched, a part of me felt guilty at the same time. Seeing my kiln just sitting there waiting to be filled, or my tools just hanging on their hooks, they it all looked so lonely. Then I saw the piece of my grandfather, still wrapped in the plastic just as I'd left it. That's when the tears began to flow. 

It took Jack and Brian some time, but they managed to understand to get the full story out of me.

The date of the exhibition, which was still going to happen, was also my mother's birthday that she shared with her father. It would have been his 108th. I had secretly been planning to have his sculpture to be the centerpiece of the show, as well as a gift to both my mom and his memory.

Once they understood, Brian exchanged a look with Jack who nodded. Then he turned back to me and said, "Don't worry, it's going to be all right. Just trust me."

In spite of the fact that I had absolutely no idea what they had planned, something about Brian's tone was extremely reassuring.  After that, they talked about their families and kept me amused for another half an hour. By then I was feeling tired again and managed to drift off without the help of medication for a change.

The rest of the day passed as all the others had, medications, smoothie meals, and television. There were a couple of more visitors, but it's what the night brought that I really want to talk about. Or rather, who it brought.

I'd been listening to an audiobook with my eyes closed, so I never heard my visitors arrive. It wasn't until Brian gently tapped my shoulder that I realized anyone had come. Looking up I saw him and Jack smiling down at me. Then from behind them Nathan popped his head out and waved at me. 

Unable to help myself, I shuddered. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

Lisa's Private Thoughts - Nov. 26, 2009 - Thanksgiving With Uncle Nathan - Part II

Now, the sight of a roasted turkey, with no head, getting up and shaking a fist was weird enough.  But watching it grab one of the nearby carving knives and taking a dueler's stance took it to a whole new level of silliness.  

Even before Uncle Nathan reached for the other carving knife, the rest of us automatically took several steps backwards, away from the table.  We all knew what was coming and didn't feel like getting caught in the middle of what was undoubtedly going to be a memorable battle.  Man and roast bird saluted each other with their weapons, followed by each taking a dueling stance.  

"I knew I should've left you in the oven for another ten minutes, you over-sized chicken," Uncle Nathan grunted, while parrying an attack. 

The turkey, unable to speak, merely flipped him the bird in return.  Then it retreated across the table and waved its backside at him.

Looking properly offended, Uncle Nathan muttered, "Oooo... I'm going cram an onion the size of a bowling ball in you for that."

Our intended dinner responded by making the 'Bring it,' gesture.  

Leaping up onto the table Uncle Nathan rushed towards his opponent across the length of the table and their carving knives clashed once again.

For the next minute, man and dinner, battled across the table in a remarkably silly yet athletic duel, while managing to avoid knocking over candelabras or glasses, or even stepping on a plate or utensil.  

I glanced over at Dr. Jack and my father who were both shaking there heads and trying to suppress smiles, as their wives gave each other resigned sighs.  Meanwhile Joe and Darlene, who hang out with me at school, were both enjoying the spectacle as much as I was.  

Finally, my mother steps forward and puts her hands on her hips.  Then she yells, "No feet on the dinner table!"

Both bird and man freeze in mid-fight.  The two of them stare at her for a moment and then take very guilty stances and point at each other.  "He started it," Uncle Nathan murmured, while his opponent took advantage of the moment to slap the knife out of his hand.

Immediately, our host, did a double-back flip off the table and retreated behind the nearby harp.  His opponent beat its breast in triumph and leapt after him, waving its weapon angrily.  Now began a game of cat and mouse, with Uncle Nathan using the harp as a shield.  At first the roast bird, tried chasing him around the harp, then it tried to stab at him through the strings, which proved to be a mistake.

Uncle Nathan kicked the weapon out of its grip and then pushed the harp down on top of the bird.  The strings of the harp sliced through the bird, leaving it carved in pieces on the floor.

Straightening up, Uncle Nathan looked at his handiwork and shook his head.  "Wow, the guy at the butcher shop told this bird might be a little tough, and he wasn't kidding. Okay, who wanted white meat?" he asked turning towards us.  

Naturally no one spoke.  We all just glared at him. 

"Oh come on, how many times do you get to have dinner and a show?" he insisted.

At this point I saw the green mist slipping out from the remains of our 'dinner' and into the cuffs of his pants and knew what was really going on.  Stepping over to where the harp lay I took a close look at the 'remains' and saw the that the bird had actually been made of foam, covered in latex and painted to look like a roast turkey skin.  

"You didn't get a turkey did you?" I said pointedly.

Uncle Nathan bowed his head and said, "They were all sold out by the time I got back this morning."

"This morning?" I cried in disbelief.  "Where were you?"

"I was out of town, sort of..." he began, when a loud boisterous voice, with a thick German accent, rang out from the area of the kitchen saying, "Happy Thanks-Pizza everyone!"

A moment later, a short stocky man with a graying beard and moustache appeared pushing a cart with the biggest pizza I'd ever seen on it.  He was wearing a chef's hat and moving around so quickly, it took me a moment to recognize him.  His name was Professor Otto Hofstadter, and he was one of Uncle Nathan's closest and oldest friends.  They'd known each other for years, according to Uncle Nathan, but there was always something about the way he said it that had made me wonder if there was more that he was not telling me.  But now was not the time to ask questions.  Dinner had arrived and everyone was starving.

My mother shook her head as we all sat down around the table and said, "Well, it might not be a traditional Thanksgiving dinner with turkey, but at least we'll all be eating well."

"On the contrary, my dear," the professor corrected as he and Uncle Nathan started serving huge pizza slices.  "I made sure that we used turkey sausage as part of the toppings."

"Oh well, that makes all the difference," said Dr. Jack as he helped pass the food around to those farthest from the pie.

A part of me wanted to ask where they'd gotten an oven big enough to cook a pizza this size, but I decided not to.  I was more interested in knowing where Uncle Nathan had been and what had kept him away all this time.  The fact that Professor Hofstadter was with us, told me that an adventure had taken place in one of those strange places Uncle Nathan has always hinted at, but has never fully explained to me.  

I decided there and then that I was going to keep a close eye on those two and maybe follow them if possible and see what they got up to when the next opportunity presented itself.

*This concludes this year's Thanksgiving tale.  I hope you all found it amusing and entertaining.  May all of you have a Happy Thanksgiving and may all your travels be safe and enjoyable -- Allan and Helen Krummenacker* 

Lisa's Private Thoughts - Nov. 26, 2009 - Thanksgiving With Uncle Nathan

*A quick note from Allan: My sincerest apologies for not doing more on the stories these past few months. I've been busy with learning and creating audiobooks, as well as doing book covers, reviews, and book trailers for Helen and others. However, you will be pleased to hear that Nathan's books are among those being turned into audios as I write. One or two short stories will be appearing here soon in audio form so you can get a taste of what's to come. Also, work has been continuing on the sequel to "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" which is currently being titled "The Vampyre Blogs - Family Ties". Helen and I have a number of surprises for Nathan and you all, so please stay tuned. In the meantime, here's a little Thanksgiving story I created 3 years ago. We hope you enjoy this tale that shows just how crazy things can get around the holidays... especially if you hang out with Nathan*

                                                       THANKSGIVING DAY 

I think everyone has memories of certain holiday gatherings that they'll never forget.  Usually it's because something really special or very unfortunate happened.  But how many of us can say they'll never forget a certain Thanksgiving dinner because the host wound up fighting a duel with the intended dinner? 

Well that's what happened this year and I don't think I'll even need to watch the video I took of it, to help me remember.  However, I will be saving it to show any children or grandchildren I have down the road, so they can see what craziness can ensue when you let Uncle Nathan try to prepare a holiday dinner.

It all started about a week ago, right after Mom gave birth to my new baby brother Geoffrey.  I was on hand for the event, while Dad and Uncle Nathan stayed in the Waiting Room.  Mom had given strict instructions that neither of them were allowed to be on hand to watch.  In fact part of my job was to make sure they didn't come in.

I asked Doctor Jack about it later and all he did was smirk and mumble something about a Dr. Quackenbush and associate, who had been on hand to help keep the patient relaxed.  The name sounded familiar to me so I Googled it afterwards on my laptop and found it was one of Groucho Marx's personas from a movie called "A Day At the Races".  Apparently, he'd played a veterinarian who also treated a rich woman as one of his patients.  Having seen Uncle Nathan's Groucho impression I could only imagine what kind of nonsense he and Dad must've gotten up to inside the delivery room that day until Mom ordered the two of them out.

Anyway, right after Geoffrey arrived, Uncle Nathan offered to host Thanksgiving over at The Crypt.  "Between late night feedings and changing diapers I don't think any of you are going to be up to shopping and prepping a big meal," he pointed out.

Needless to say, none of us disagreed with him.  He even invited Dr. Jack and his family to join the festivities, which my favorite physician readily agreed to.  We didn't see or hear from Uncle Nathan again for the rest of the week, which made my parents wonder if dinner was still on.  Then last night he phoned to let us know he'd been called away to help his old friend, Professor Otto Hofstadter, with a little 'problem' which they'd successfully resolved, and that we were still expected the next day at 5:00 PM.

Needless to say we left the house today and headed downtown.  Once we reached the building that housed The Crypt, we headed down the side alley where the stairs leading down to The Crypt awaited.  Dr. Jack and his family were just heading down the steps when we showed up and after the usual Thanksgiving greetings were exchanged, we all carefully made our way down the steps.  The door at the bottom was unlocked so we let ourselves in only to have our breaths taken away.  

As usual, Uncle Nathan had really gone all out with decorating the place.  There was a huge table that could seat a couple of dozen people just on one side, in the center of the main room.  It was all decked out with candles, plates,fancy napkins, the works.  There was also a very expensive looking harp nearby, which meant we would probably be treated to some fine music afterwards.  As we all gazed around in wonder, I couldn't believe he'd gone to so much trouble just for us, but I was glad at the same time.  "This was going to be one of the most memorable Thanksgiving dinners ever," I breathed aloud, while everyone nodded in agreement.

Uncle Nathan appeared a moment later, wearing a white apron and a big chef's hat.  After greeting each of us, he got everyone settled in and disappeared back to the kitchen area.  We were all excited and eager to see what he had prepared for us.  A moment later, he came back out carrying a huge glimmering silver platter.  Naturally it had a very shiny lid which was rather tall, leaving us all wondering how big a turkey he had gotten for the occasion.  However, knowing his sense of humor, I half expected it to be a very small bird no bigger than a pigeon,  But much to my surprise and delight, when the cover was removed, there was indeed a very large bird on the platter.

After running back into the kitchen and returning with more dishes, he removed his hat and apron, and proceeded to brandish a very large fork, which he deftly sank into the turkey.  Only to have the bird jump up, remove the fork from itself and then waved an angry fist at him.  

TO BE CONTINUED...