Violet Wimmen random chapters

just for the record, barking dogs do bite.



Violet smiles as she extracts the secret messages and signs,

her crooked open-wide-please way smile presents as quite innocent and charming.. but her eyes don’t match.

. How can it be described, this look in her eyes..?



A lost dog side glancing a stranger as it trots by at a safe distance.

A fish laying on ice in the belly of a rocking boat, gills pathetically flap, with eyes that cannot blink.

Serious octogenarians, loosing  their patience, glancing at invisible watches

  while standing in front of an elevator on the fourth floor of Glen Oaks Nursing Centre …Indignant.

….”Where the hell is that train??”

Someone’s eyes. just a split second after their headlights illuminate the word  MACK as the head- on commences.

Those are her eyes.

An Irish saint once described her in a dream..

“ You’re a beautiful thing that was born in hell”, He said.







TWO

In the gray early morning light, the time when all ghosts are saying goodnight to eachother

and climbing carefully into the back of sleeping minds. The silence of the room is broken by

the snap and the liltingly mellow voice of Hank Williams singing “I’m so Lonesome I Could Cry”.

As the music plays on, a sleeping face aimed upward gets a drop of water  squarely on its forehead.

Blink.

“…I’ve neeever seeeen a night so long,,When tiiime goes crawwwling by…

.The moon just went behiiiind a cloud... to hiiide its face.. and cry..”  drip

Blink

A tube hung from the ceiling and leading to an IV stand beside the bed clicks. It’s timer activated.

Drip.

BLINK

“…    the siiiilence of a faaaling star..lights uuuup a puuurple sky…..”



“WHOA!”.

Violets head whips around on her neck like a bobble during a sudden stop.. looking for the perpetrator.

“ MOTHERFUCKER,,,shit”..her face grinds into the pillow beside her.

….[,,Im so looooooooonesome I could cryyyyyyyyyyyy”}

Drip.



“ok ok! OK, BITCH!”

She sits on the edge of the bed and lights a longishly interrupted

cigarette butt and reaches with her free hand and closes the IV tubing.

Rubbing her face and slapping her already pink cheeks. She is awake.

“.. IT’S ALIVE!!” she hears the voice of Igor when Dr. Frankensteins’

monster makes his first post-lightning move.

“ Yea another fuckin day another fuckin dollar,  Frankie.” she thinks outloud.

She might as well talk to herself cuz theres nobody to hear her crazy fucking tree falling in the forest, eh:?





She walks to her answering machine and sees the blinking 3…..3…..3….3….3..

One push activates the robot..

“You have 3 new messages”( The anonymous voice message for the socially impaired)…

” who IS that bitch? She wonders..”

Beeeeeep:

“Message one”

“Hi Violet,,its me, Marcy.! {sounding perky as hell}

“I guess you’re out..hope youre having fun! Hey, you

wanna go out for coffee tomorrow? I really need to talk to you..well..uhh I met this guy…

Oh yea I know what youre gonna sa………….BEEEEEEEEEP

“Message one deleted”



“ Message two”

“Hey I’m here waiting for you..where are you??Its 

10:30 do you know where your Violet is??hahhhhhh..I know.

.Im funny..but really where the fuck are you?? Are you coming or not??

I just wanted t……….BEEEEEEEEEEEEP “ message 2 deleted”



“ Message three”

“ Hello Violet.. This is  your MOTHER..just in case you’ve forgotten you had one

…I don’t think its funny at all that you flipped all my pictures upside down.

.Really …. you are mentally unstable and I don’t want you to come around here anymore

. And, not that you care but  Mrs. French said she saw you and commented on your clothes..

for GODS SAKE get something that isn’t torn and do laundry once  a century,,,would you?

We can smell you coming and it’s NOT CHANEL NUMBER 5…OK??? And what about that…



BEEEEEEEEP  “Message 3 deleted…end of messages”

0..0..0..0k

Scratching her ass in a spot on her flannel Christmas pajama bottom  that’s been worn nearly transparent

from this daily ritual, she walks to the bathroom and sits on the toilet clumsily…face frozen and blank

…thinking deeply..

“SHIT”

She stands and yanks her pants down. A wet spot between the legs is spreading.

“ok ok its ok” she says to no one.

Undressing then showering with the finesse of an Auschwitz delouser,

her day has begun.















  THREE

STUPID STupid  stupidstupid ugly FUCKERRRRRRRRRRRRRR SHUT UP…SHUT THE FUCK UP IDIOT …

YEA MORON…FIRST SHUT THEN UP…STUUPID.YEA GO ON YOU STUPIDFUCK..LOOOOOOSSSEERRRR

YOURE DIRTY AND UGLY AND NO ONE WILL LOVE YOU EVER ,,

,YOUR OWN MOTHER DOESN’T LOVE YOU STUPID… STupid  stupidstupid ugly FUCKERRRRRRRRRRRRRR

LOOK AT YOU,,,YOU’RE A WHORE A STUPID UGLY WHORE

AND NOBODY LOVES YOU AND NOBODY WILL EVER LOVE YOU CUZ  YOURE

STupid  stupidstupid ugly FUCKERRRRRRRRRRRRRR

WHY DON’T YOU JUST DIE AND MAKE THE WORLD HAPPY

…I NEVER WANTED TO HAVE YOU I WANTED TO ABORT YOU

BECAUSE I KNEW WHAT AN UGLY WHORE YOU WOULD GROW UP TO BE,.

,., AND SEE? I WAS RIGHT…JUST DIE  JUST GO AWAY… UGLY AND NO ONE WILL LOVE YOU

,,,YOUR OWN MOTHER DOESN’T EVEN … NOBODY.. NOBODY.. NOBODYnobodynobodynobodynobodynobodyFUCKKKKKKERRRRRRRRRRRR





“Huh?”

“you got any spare change?”

Eyes glare without seeing, she stares at this apparition…”HOW DO I LOOK? HOW DO I LOOK?????????????

the voice in three part dissonance echoes in the long tiled hall of her cerebrum.”

Hey baby…you look so beautiful today..give daddy a kiss angel..come on..awwww that’s daddies girl

” Fleas are leaping off the homeless guy instinctively knowing 

Her eyes nearly close and she leans to kiss daddy…….”WHORE! DIRTY LITTLE FUCK”

WHAM  her fist connects with her mothers mouth.

The door is open wide as the number 77 bus pulls up.

“You ok?” calls the driver.

“I was just checking on him. I think he’s just really drunk or high  or something but thanks for asking

. And by the way how are you? How is your day going? I didn’t see you for a long time,  Jimmy.

And by the way, how are you?” She replies in pressured speech.

“Excuse me?”

“ Oh I, um  and by the way, how are you?”

Violet slips $3 in bills into the bill sucker and moves to the rear.

Perhaps she thinks that the extra dollar will buy off the drivers suspicion that she did something wrong

.She didn’t. She’s so sure. But just in case. You know.

The bus is beginning to crowd up until it dumps the bulk of passengers at the train stop



but Violet manages to get a seat.



Violet is not listening for her stop.

She’s not planning her day or thinking about where she’ll go for lunch like the rest of the bus.

She doesn’t have the latest “juicy” to share with the cubicle next to hers, or wonder what she should

buy her sister- in- law for the baby shower. She’s not remembering the great night she had with her fiancée

or wishing she had worn other shoes with this outfit.



.Violet is just fighting with the idea that everyone on this bus is dead.

She knows somewhere and somehow that it is not true but if that is so,

  why is there mold growing on that guys cheek?. and for what

OTHER reason would that person be wearing cardboard shoes?

Oh, that little Spanish lady saying the rosary..yea she is alive--kinda-- anyway she not moldy yet.



“BROWN LINE” “ ALL OFF FOR THE BROWN LINE”



Violet is studying the faces embedded  in the textured aluminum back of the seat in front of her.

“Interesting” she thinks. The story unfolds before her and she is watching intently

as one would a late breaking news story. Faces peer out at Violet

and at eachother as they slip in and out of dimension  you and I can only find in dream.

In her mental absence, the bus stops and empties its dead.

The new hollowness of the pre recorded route announcement echoes in the  nearly empty bus and brings her back.



“whatdo I want? Wheredo I go, whodo I see? Whatdo I know.”Sing-songs in her head. whatdo

I want? Wheredo I go, whodo I see? Whatdo I knowwhatdo I want? Wheredo I go, whodo I see?

Whatdo I know…whatdo..”

Oddly, there is a comfort in these words that when paired with rocking

makes the world as safe and friendly as those kids on Barney seem to think it is.



“ I want? Wheredo I go, whodo I see? Whatdo I know…”



Looking out she sees a familiar sign. LINCOLN PARK ZOO

“Ok” she says outloud, pulls the clothesline ding maker and exits from the side.

“Lets go scare the bears!” she says to her mental company.

The bus driver watches her exit, slowly shakes his head and looks down



FOUR

Just east of the zoo is the beautiful lakefront and beach .

Really and truly beautiful. I’m not kidding. On a day like this,

with the crisp edges the clouds have and the light fragrant wind,

a person feels like something in a catalog of things no one can afford.

The main attraction is what happens to sound and the light on the water

despite the fact that the bikini girls playing  volleyball think that is entirely wrong.

No one would ever think of trying to convince them otherwise..

Whose serve? Never mind.



A tree with  thin sharp grass around its shade area,

like some ripped off discarded hula skirt mixed with soft sand “Aloha Okole” a nuka nuka wanna walla bingo

…. come…relax.

. The ants plan otherwise.

I’m sure they were laughing their little ant asses off while being smacked by the guy doing St.Vitas Dance.

Yea well maybe he should have knocked those crumbs off of his greasy shirt.

Or cleaned the body grease out of his creases…YUM!

But undoubtedly, never in their entire  ant history had they ever found a specimen like this.

Six foot five and a half inches of muscular rage. 369 pounds of prison –honed defensive /aggression

with a double portion of social anxiety.

Arms as big as electric poles.

The Crowned prince of wails.



Even at a distance, watching that last dinosaur shake and flick his flat hands over his head and legs.

Violet  KNEW.

This is the ONE.

Savior and protector.

This huge motherfucker could kill ANYBODY that tried to hurt her.

He must be HERS.

Cautiously approaching him from the rear. with as much stealth as her excitement would allow.

she stood trembling and waiting to be noticed.

He turned and saw her. His face did not react.

Of course, she thought, he’s a warrior and can’t show any emotion…that would mean vulnerability!

Oh FUCK what to say!

The options exploded into ridiculous movie trailers for the worlds 10 worst movies.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t make eye contact.

Did she hear a grunt? Maybe.

“You’re big”

“ You’re psycho” He did grunt!

“I think you’re my hero.” Violet offered.

“ Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Shame washed across Violets rigid frame, cell by cell reacting

with a discomfort that felt so familiar and so right.

He raised his arm outstretched at shoulder level,

finger pointing to the ground and making small circles.

“Turn around for a second” he commanded she obeyed.

“Not bad.”

“I’m Violet”

“Like the color or the flower?”

“ Neither.” She smiled. “like the ULTRA”

Violet at her coy-whore best.

“Nice” he smirked .

She felt weak.

And for Violet,  that meant everything.

















FIVE

Let the record show:

That in Violets defense, the following factoids are proffered.:

She was  a former president of the “Never had a Chance” club.

Which entitled her to some certain privileges and honors.

Not the least of which being the world appeared as she wanted.

She lived in another dimension, with an advanced version of PhotoShop to make this world do-able,

change all that was wrong, everything was in its place. Made sense.



Where we saw filth and mess, she saw order and immaculence.



We see  pliers laying on a sink, hooked to a chain, not understanding it’s a handle, get it?

A HAN-DLE dummy. What would you do? Not have water? Violet figured that one out.

Herself. Her DAMN self. Nobody is helping her OK? Did YOU offer? No I didn’t think so, so shut the fuck up.

Its  CREATIVE ok? Not everything a crazy person does is crazy.



Look at her clothes.

.She was ever the cutting edge of fashion in her oddly paired colors and patterns.

Calvin could learn a thing or two from her-- that boring old queen.

She was ahead of her time in ways too numerable to mention.

OK how about this one.

Kaopectate, being in fact mud, will one day be the perfect foundation for flawless skin .

Who thought of that? Eh?

Violet invented it

Remember that.

Want white teeth?  Comet cleanser on a q-tip. 10 shades whiter in 1 minute. Why wait?

Again, Violet.

You gotta understand something.

Nobody ever told her nothing.

Wait, wrong. Anything.

They always told her nothing.

Wait. Wrong.

They told her plenty.

She learned all she ever needed to know about herself from monsters.



Like the little chick following the wolf. Peeping and scrambling.

Like the baby turtle clawing furiously in the dark to the sea of something real and good and never finding it.

She once heard someone found a baby in the garbage and wondered if it was her sister “Lucky”.

And she had pets too. They loved her a lot.

Ok they were mostly imaginary but the live ones didn’t last long in that house.

Daddy said he “disappeared” them.

She dreamed of a magic pencil. With a big eraser.

She would be able to draw in the air and whatever she drew would really be there.

But she never found one.

Her mom was even nice to her once, she remembers.

REALLY.

See it was the day after she found her dad with an exhaust pipe in his face and she thought he was dead

but like that darn ole Frankenstein monster. she smacked him and he came back alive.

She still hears that sobbing sometimes, coming from those dusky dry lips. No no noooo

She remembers thinking. ‘What would the world be like if I forgot to kiss him goodnight?”

And when she went to school the next morning, no one was there.

She didn’t know who was alive or who was dead or what the world would be like after 3.

She looked around the fourth grade room. Didn’t those kids ever feel like this? …

heres the clincher  An epiphany A moment of clarity in the frozen sea .

NO….THEY  DIDN’T, VIOLET.

YOU ARE A WEIRDO AND YOU ARE FROM ANOTHER PLANET AND NOBODY LOVES YOU

AND YOU ARE A MISTAKE AND YOU ALMOST KILLED YOUR FATHER BY PRAYING FOR HIM

AND YOU ARE ALONE NOW WITH THAT PINCHING SPITTING SCREAMING BAG OF HATE ALONE NOW FOREVER

.YOU KILLED HIM NOBODY LOVES YOU YOU STINK YOU’RE ALONE NOW WITH HER

Her cry started below her knees.

Low, guttural, spiraling in a slowly evolving crescendo of unstoppable and deep s……………

OOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAHHHHHHHHH

The nuns called her mother and she left her job in a hurry. What had she told them?

Oh Jesus Mary and Joseph, Now what.!



For just an afternoon, the tables turned.

Violet couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t or wouldn’t make any eye contact.

Just in a tight ball on her bed. Not moving. Not responding.

She was able to smooth the nuns out about Violets behavior saying

she may have gotten her period and was “overly emotional”

But she wont move. Its getting late and she didn’t even get up to pee.

Wont answer. Wont move. Shit.

What if she wont snap out of it. What if she doesn’t go back to school tomorrow……

“its ok. You’re ok, don’t worry about anything” She stroked Violets arm and smoothed her hair bruskly.

Violets eyes opened and stared sideways at the blanket. Tears came from nowhere and rivulets ran.

“come on, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, its ok”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHWWWWWWWWWWWWWMM

MMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAA

came again from  the deep.

“Oh for gods sake stop it.”

Her sound stopped because there was no longer a purpose for feeling.

She was alone and she knew it.



Later she found ways to feel less alone.

Actually, they found her.

Later in her life she found people who pretended to want to help her

and understand her just like her mother but the only way away from them was a shot in the ass.



She eventually took it as her ticket out but that shit made her feel so weird.

The world got alien and ugly  Took weeks to shake it  off.



Sometimes she missed the voices because despite their abusive nature,

someone cared enough to acknowledge her and understood her.

  What an honor to be understood.