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Reading, Writing, Pondering: Big Life Themes, Literature, Contemporary/Historical Issues |
 Welcome to the 14th century, in a farflung outpost of the Holy Roman Empire, and a new Convent outpost of the terrrifically powerful Roman Catholic Church. Sound historically dull? Hopefully not so--for this is NOT an ordinary 14th Century Convent. Back after a six-year hiatus.... From NaNoWriMo historical Supernatural novels in Scotland, Michigan, South Alabama and historical horror in Standwood Station, GA-to the Phantom Northern Woods-to singlehandedly refighting the American Civil War-to exploring Social Justice and standing for First Amendment rights under the U.S. Constitution-we deal out horror, Supernatural, Historical, fantasy, mystery, and more. We do not fear outspokeness. And always, always, always, We Do History. Find it here. We write it. We read it. We hold strong opinions. We orate. Meanwhile, whether we're writing or just reading, we love to rave about books and authors right here!  |
| Found it intriguing this morning in the LATimes.com to learn that methane gas, the bugabear and major danger in coal mining, is also linked to the tragedy in the Gulf of Mexico, the ever-spreading, seemingly unstoppable oil spill. http://www.latimes.com/la-na-oil-spill-nature-20100524,0,1088579.story Since we've now finished the free reads from my April Stage Play for Script Frenzy: Obax and the Night-Riders, I guess we will now return to the alternate probability of The Testament Logging Corporation. As I've mentioned previously, I've written two complete novels-a set-in this series: The Phantom Logging Operation and The Haunted Greenhouse both set in 1957, in an alternate probability called The Northern Woods, in which the United States developed a little differently in the area we knew in the 18th and 19th century as the Northwest Territories, immediately South of Canada, which became our Upper Midwest. I've posted both of those two novels. The third is in the setting, but not a sequel. I've written 20 chapters of it, from March 23-31, then stopped to write the Stage Play. Child-Puppets of the Testament Logging Corporation Child-Puppets of The Testament Logging Corporation: Children Who Kill by Archie Standwood The Testament Logging Corporation Chronicles Book Three (Because it's not JUST about Logging, After All) Puppets in the Control of the evil Testament Logging Corporation and the Evil Entity buried deep in the heart of The Big Forest, these children burn down their homes, killing parents, grandparents, and siblings. Others shoot, stab, axe, etc., use screwdrivers Series Prologue: The Phantom Northern Woods Tales are set in an alternate historical probability, in which The Northwest Territories were divided differently than in our own “consensus reality.” History in this alternate probability, although sometimes similar, does not always adhere to the same timeline as the one that historians in our consensus reality record. In this reality, The Northwest Territories became Wisconsin and Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, and Ohio. In The Phantom Northern Woods, each existing state is called by its full name: “State of-” as in State of Wisconsin, State of Michigan, State of Illinois. There are three states where today only Michigan and Wisconsin stand: one state between them, like an inverted triangle, heavily forested, bordering Canada to the North-the State of Algonquin. It is this state which harbors the infamous “Big Forest.” The topography of this “probablility” differs from our own also. In it, Lake Michigan does not divide Wisconsin and Michigan. From West to East are: State of Westerly (similar to our Wisconsin), State of Algonquin, State of Minnetonka (similar to our Michigan), Lake Algonquin (at the eastern border of State of Minnetonka}. All of State of Algonquin North and East of Knox (which is approximately 1/3 into the State South from the Canadian border) is The Big Forest, which also extends into the entire northern half of State of Minnetonka. South of State of Westerley and the left side of State of Algonquin is State of Illustrian, comprised of our Illinois and Indiana from its west border to central, if a line were drawn North to South. Epigraph: “Even the Dead have issues too.” Chapter One Lisabeth Hudson admired the ice cream cone Danny Wilber had just handed her, and tasted the vanilla drip on the sides while she waited for Danny to finish up the root beer float her best friend Alice had ordered. “Want some ice cream, Alice?” The other girl shook her head and turned back to watching the young man prepare two scrumptious floats. Lisabeth loved vanilla ice cream, but hated root beer, while Alice Cavendish only ate ice cream in a float: plain ice cream always seemed too cold and made her sensitive teeth ache for hours. Alice was a pale child, pale of hair and complexion, not quite albino in tint but very similar. Her eyes were a clear pale grey, like a late afternoon sky after a destructive storm has passed. Tall for her age of seven years and slender, Alice's hair fell to past her waist (Lisabeth's mother clucked her teeth every time she saw Alice) and vas very fine-textured, straight, and often wispy, as if the air immediately surrounding Alice contained more static electricity than the atmosphere elsewhere. As Alice waited patiently for her float, Lisabeth applied her attention to the cone, twirling in place and enjoying the warm summer day. In The Northern Woods Territories, summers were vague and of brief duration, and the populace quickly learned to enjoy what moments they could. Today was a glorious example: the sky was a bright cloudless blue, the color of the Aegean Ocean in a photograph Alice had seen in a geography book of her dad's; the air was temperate and without even a breeze to stir little girls' hems and hair. Danny Wilber turned from the fountain in the back of the small H&K Root Beer & Sundries stand, holding a delicious root beer float, the specialty of H&K's outdoor vending concessions stands, in each hand. He handed one to Alice and took her change, ringing it up on the register with a big smile of thanks. “Who's the other one for, Mr. Danny?” Alice asked. “That one's for me, Little Alice,” he answered with a big toothy smile, much like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. His slicked black hair and black eyes over a long straight narrow nose and very thin lips certainly made Danny Wilber resemble that Wolf. A young man of twenty-seven, he lived at home with his mother Monica in a white-painted clapboard Cape Cod on the outskirts of Madison Mills. Although his lips curved upward in what purported to be a smile as he eyed the little girl almost greedily, his eyes were dead-only when he looked straight at Alice did a glint show deep in their core. Wilber, the proprietor of one of the H&K Root Beer franchises in Madison Mills, did not see Alice Cavendish very often. Her best friend Lisabeth Hudson, a curly redhead with a halo-like frizz, came in frequently, as she lived in the neighborhood. But Alice's family lived in the country some miles away, and as she was home schooled, she didn't often come in to the city. When she did, she was usually accompanied by her Daddy, Jed Cavendish, who had an important job at The Testament Logging Corporation. Alice didn't know it-and neither did her father-but Danny Wilber worked for Testament too-under cover. On this lovely and eventful day, a Friday in early June, Danny had prepared a VERY special root beer float, just for Alice. He had been given advance notice that Alice would be in town today: Lisabeth had invited Alice to spend a four-day weekend with her, since Lisabeth's birthday party would be held tomorrow, Saturday. So Alice had ridden into the City with her Daddy on his way to work, very early this morning, and he took her on to the Hudson home. Mr. Hudson also worked at The Testament Logging Corporation, although Alice was certain his job could not be as important as her Daddy's. On Monday evening, after the work day, Daddy would come to drive Alice home, so she would get to spend four days and three nights in the company of her best friend, plus be part of tomorrow's birthday party-and Mrs. Hudson, unbeknownst to Alice, had made certain to firmly suggest to the mothers of the other little girls attending that Alice should be given some small present from each as well. It was not that Alice Cavendish was looked down on-she was accepted well and her social skills were fine, although she did often seem reserved. In this she took after her father, Jerralld Cavendish, whom many of The Testament employees considered fair but aloof. [EDITING: NO-Jerralld Cavendish needs to be Vice President of Finances-a less important Division in the opinion of The Testament Logging Corporation than was The Logging Division, which is why Lisabeth Hudson telekinetically kills the Cavendishes first rather than her own parents] Mr. Cavendish managed the Logging Division, which meant that he had charge of the far-flung logging operations of The Testament Corporation. Since 1932 when the Logging Boom in The Big Forest had collapsed, Testament had had no close local operations. Occasionally Jed was required to travel but for the most part he worked out of an office in The Testament Tower. He worked long hours, increased by the drive to and from his isolated rural home. H&K Root Beer Concessions Inc. was a popular destination in The Northern Woods Territories. Headquartered in Madison Mills, State of Algonquin, H&K had opened for business in 1927, a short nineteen years ago, and in the intervening time had expanded throughout the State, and also West into State of Westerley, East into State of Menominee, and Southwest into State of Illustrian. Although the company operated one main restaurant in downtown Madison Mills, located on the ground floor of The Testament Tower, for the most part the operation worked by franchises, leased from the parent corporation and operated by independent proprietor using the H&K Corporation name and logo and H&K provided merchandise product. Danny Wilber was one such independent operator, running a small stand in the busy neighborhood where the Hudson family lived. In the days before ice-cream trucks travelling neighborhoods all summer long and after school, a businessman like Danny did very well with even a tiny building, selling fountain root beer, bottled RC Colas for those who lacked the root beer taste, ice creams, and sometimes banana splits. Some even expanded to hot dogs and chili dogs, and one enterprising H&K franchisee on the South side of town offered barbecue plates. home had ceased to be with the fire that destroyed her family's two-story house the night she had her first ever sleep-over, with a courtesy-cousin from Madison Mills, the youngest daughter of a man with whom Alice's daddy worked at Testametn Corporation. Alice's family lived near Madison Mills, too, but farther away, out in the country, on an isolated plot of land of about six hundred acres. Both Alice's daddy and her friend Lisabeth's daddy, Mr. Hudson, worked in Testament's big Maintenance Division, but Mr. Hudson worked on the big machines that kept Testament powered up, and Alice's father, Jerralld Cavendish, worked on the diesel logging trucks and pulpwood cutting machines that Testament Tow Division hauled into his shop whenever they needed repair. Alice had been invited by Lisabeth, through the intercedence of Lisabeth's Daddy to Alice's daddy, to come and stay for a weekend with Lisabeth in Madison Mills. Mr. Cavendish, who made the long trip from his farm into the city every weekday, would bring Alice along with him on Friday, a little early for work, and drop her off at the Hudson home. There she would stay and enjoy four days and three nights with Lisabeth, and her daddy would pick her up after he finished work on the Monday. This had been decided on as preferable to the first plan, which had been for Mr. Cavendish to drive Alice into the city to the Hudson home on Saturday morning and then to pick her up again on Saturday afternoon. But since Lisabeth's birthday fell on the Saturday, and her mother had allowed her to invite seven other girls from school for a birthday party, it was decided among the four parents that Alice could have the extra days of Friday and Sunday to play alone with Lisabeth, just the two girls. Alice and Lisabeth had a lovely Friday together and Saturday had been a special day for the birthday, for Alice as well as Lisabeth, for Mrs. Hudson had kindly made sure that Alice received a gift from each of the attending girls, just as much as Lisabeth. Alice's birthday had been in February, and this was April, but Mrs. Hudson was a kind-hearted lady who demurred Alice's status as an only child and one who lived in rural isolation without a school, a church family, or near neighbors. The weekend had been lovely, but that Saturday night following the birthday party, as Alice and Lisabeth sat up late eating popcorn and giggling at radio serials, had been the last happy times of Alice's life. That April Saturday night while she slept peacefully and prettily, her family's home burned down, from a spark of hay blown from the open window in the barn loft that somehow ignited, fell onto the attic roof, and set the roof afire. A spark from the roof fire was swept down the chimney, igniting the living room carpet, then drapes. Mr. and Mrs. Cavendish slept soundly in the back room on the second floor, directly below the attic fire, and between the roof's burning and the living room fire, the smoke inhalation killed them quickly. Despite their painless deaths, however, or because of them, the fires continued to rage rampant and unchecked, and in less than two hours, the house and barn had been completely destroyed, and there was no longer any point for caskets at the funeral. /justify} |
| Our thoughts and prayers are with the families and loved ones of those lost in the tragic plane crash in India, and to the remaining eight survivors. Obax and The Night-Riders, a Stage Play ACT TWO, SCENE FIVE April 27, 1863 Macon, Georgia, CSA Wesleyan Ladies' College Dormitory Lounge, Ground Floor (Comfortable armchairs and davenports are scattered throughout, interspersed by tall round tables covered with antimacassars and vases of Spring- blooming fresh flowers. The atmosphere is very chintzy, and it is obvious that there is a Victorian England influence, as the room is fairly crowded. To STAGE REAR, LEFT of CENTER, is a staircase just through an archway, and to the right of the staircase is another room, mostly shadowy. The HOUSE MOTHER'S suite is in that direction (STAGE REAR- RIGHT of CENTER). (To STAGE LEFT stands a chest-high oak counter, behind which sits the HOUSE MOTHER of the Dormitory. At this moment she is standing behind it, wringing her hands and looking particularly anxious.) (To STAGE RIGHT sits a stocky man of medium height, well but not fashionably attired. His cravat is slightly crooked, where he has been pulling at it from nervous afflictions. He is clearly uncomfortable in an environment wholly feminine, and no doubt prefers the company of men (as he has amply demonstrated in his encounters SUPERINTENDENT JAMES BURTON of the CONFEDERATE ARMORIES and with MAJOR SHERROD NELSON LACEY.) (INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON enters through the outside door, STAGE FOREGROUND, LEFT of CENTER) (The HOUSE MOTHER moves forward to the counter, calling for INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON'S attention) HOUSE MOTHER: MISS ANDERSON! MISS ANDERSON! Over here! (INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON continues to tow VONDA LACEY through the door. Once she is inside, she turns her toward the HOUSE MOTHER'S counter, but by now, upon seeing VONDA LACEY appear, the man on the horsehair davenport has jumped up and begun to cross the wide lounge parquet floor.) HARRALD NEALM: MISS VONDA! MISS VONDA! I came as soon as I heard! (walks rapidly toward VONDA LACEY and INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON, who have now stopped in front of the HOUSE MOTHER'S counter) HOUSE MOTHER: MISS ANDERSON, this gentleman has been waiting all morning! He's asking to see MISS LACEY! I told him, no student can be seen without a chaperone! INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON: (to HOUSE MOTHER, soothingly) It's all right, Mrs. Jenks. Ah'm here with her. Ah will chaperone. (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS strides in, taking in the situation at a glance-or the situation as it appears to her.) INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS: Sir! What business have you here?! HARRALD NEALM: (he has almost reached VONDA LACEY, but INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON stands just in front of her; he halts in front of INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS and bows.) A proposal, Madame. I bring a proposal. Might I address MISS LACEY now, since she has three such diligent chaperones present? (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS frowns again, but INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON looks first to VONDA LACEY, and when she nods slightly, addresses HARRALD NEALM.) INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON: Sir, MISS LACEY has just suffered a terrible shock. If you would please just wait a few moments more, Ah shall take her upstairs to freshen up and then we shall return, along with her roommate. (ushers VONDA LACEY to STAGE REAR, throught the archway and up the staircase to an upper floor). (HARRALD NEALM subsides with a quiet “Thank you” unheard by either INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON nor VONDA LACEY, and returns to sit on the edge of the horsehair davenport, once again highly uncomfortable in these feminine environs.) (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS motions to HOUSE MOTHER to exit from behind the counter, and the two walk through the archway at STAGE REAR CENTER and move toward STAGE REAR RIGHT, into the mostly shadowy room that leads to the HOUSE MOTHER'S suite.) (Lights dim.) (Lights up.) (Same setting. April 27, 1863 Macon, Georgia, CSA Wesleyan Ladies' College Dormitory Lounge, Ground Floor One half-hour has passed.) (HARRALD NEALM is still on the uncomfortable horsehair davenport at FAR STAGE RIGHT CENTER, now with head buried in hands, clearly distraught and anxious about the outcome of this afternoon's meeting with VONDA LACEY. Indeed, after a half-hour, he is no longer certain he will even be allowed to meet with her. Yet he has much to tell her, and a boon to ask.) (Footsteps are heard on stairs.) (VONDA LACEY comes into view on the last several steps, accompanied by INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON. Walking just behind the two is STUDENT ASHLEY DUMPLING, roommate of VONDA LACEY.) (VONDA LACEY is now dressed in a serge gown of a brown shade so deep as to appear black, with a band of black silk tied around her upper left arm.) (HARRALD NEALM stands up, holding his bowler in both hands, but remains silent, gazing at VONDA LACEY with a combination of awe and dismay.) (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS and the HOUSE MOTHER appear from STAGE RIGHT REAR, LEFT of CENTER, from the direction of the HOUSE-MOTHER'S rooms. HOUSE MOTHER carries a black gown and hat with veil, also all black, across her arms. INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS and HOUSE MOTHER intercept VONDA LACEY, INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON, and STUDENT ASHLEY DUMPLING, who has clearly been crying as tear tracks still show on her plump cheeks, at the bottom of the staircase.) HOUSE MOTHER: (breathless) MISS LACEY, honey, Ah altered this dress foah yah, and heah's a black hat and veil. Ah will work all naht tonaht to sew yah some moah dresses, dear child. VONDA LACEY: (reaches for the dress and hat with veil, but ASHLEY DUMPLING steps forward first and takes them.) ASHLEY DUMPLING: Ah'll cahry them for yah, VONDA dear. Y'all have enough on yah mahnd raht now. VONDA LACEY: (doesn't speak, but squeezes ASHLEY DUMPLING'S arm with a taut smile in thanks.) (VONDA LACEY, accompanied by INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON, and trailed by ASHLEY DUMPLING (whose arms are now loaded with the black gown and black hat with veil), INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS, and the tut-tutting HOUSE MOTHER, approaches HARRALD NEALM, her right hand outstretched regally.) HARRALD NEALM: (steps forward, takes the right hand of VONDA LACEY, bends low over it, kisses the top of her hand, then forgets to release it, until INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS loudly clears her throat.) HARRALD NEALM: MISS VONDA, Ah am so very, very sorry for yah loss. Please accept all my condolences. MISS VONDA, Ah have received a telegram from yoah Cousin, MAJOR SHERROD NELSON. MAJOR NELSON infohms me that he is now yoah Guardian, ma'am, as yoah fathah and yoah brothah-God rest they precious souls-have passed on in the sahvice of our beloved Confederacy. And MAJOR NELSON also infohms me in this lil telegram that Ah have his express permission, since this is a grave and grief-filled matter-and since yoah ahr graduatin' this comin' month of May-and since yoah have no one in the woald no moh othah than yoah Cousin MAJOR NELSON, and he is a-way in the sahvice of our beloved Confederacy- (pauses for a much-needed breath) -to ask for yoah hand in mahriage, to me, at yoah eahrliest conveen-ee-ence, MISS LACEY, ma'am. ASHLEY DUMPLING: (gasps) Oooh! (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA FISK frowns, deeply. HOUSE MOTHER JENKS tut-tuts, softly. INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON beams, then looks to VONDA LACEY to check her reaction. Only VONDA LACEY remains calm-perhaps resigned to her new fate.) VONDA LACEY: Sir-under othah circumstances Ah would say, it is too soon to discuss. But as Ah have suffered (pauses to pull an emboridered hanky from her sleeve and wipe her left eye) so just now, Ah will accede to the wishes of my Guardian, MAJOR COUSIN. If yoah wish to marry-we shall marry. Kindly wait till Ah have graduated, if yoah will. It is what my Papa wished. (INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON beams and pats VONDA LACEY on the back.) (HOUSE MOTHER JENKS considers how much more sewing must be accomplished, in addition to the mourning wear, to prepare for a wedding. Then she realizes wedding finery should be white, and tut-tuts again, this time loudly, to think that a bride should be marrying just at the time of her father's and brother's demise. Yet there seems almost no other way out. And her Guardian has willed it.) (Lights dim. Lights out.) END OF ACT TWO, SCENE FIVE ACT TWO, SCENE SIX May, 1863 Macon, Georgia, CSA Wesleyan Ladies' College Greater Lawn Graduation Ceremony, Class of 1863 (Graduating students, their families, and underclass students mill about on the lawn. Parents and Guardians stand in deep discussion with faculty members, while underclass students clump to giggle and discuss present fashions. Fathers, Uncles, and Guardians not engaged in conversing with Instructors gather in small groups to discuss the progress of the War, which has now dragged on for just over two years.) (Reverend President Rufus A. Fisk strides across the green swath of the Great Lawn, resplendent in its May finery, and climbs the steps of the reviewing stand. He is accompanied by a lady in her twenties, swathed in cream=colored silk, with a wide-hat, also sashed, and a veil.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: Ladies, Gentlemen! Might I have your attention now! (The crowd quiets and turns toward the reviewing stand. “Aahs” of admiration issue from some of the underclass students when they see the lady standing next to the REVEREND PRESIDENT. She is not only fashionably attired, a task not always achievable two years into the War, but she is very lovely as well.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: May I introduce for your delight our Keynote Speaker for today's event, the Graduation of the Wesleyan Ladies' College Class of 1863? (applause throughout the crowd.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: Our Keynote Speaker today is the beauteous Miz Prescelia June Leigh Hargrove, Mistress of Twenty-Three Oaks Plantation of Cameron's Crossing, South Alabama, Confederate States of America (further applause) and wife of Colonel Junior Dee Hargrove, who even as we speak is fighting our battles for The Just Cause! (shouting these last three words to high applause from crowd) (MIZ PRESCELIA JUNE LEIGH HARGROVE takes the podium. She declaims at length on the role of long-suffering women in the War Effort, extols the instruction available at Wesleyan Ladies' College-as she herself is an alumni-and concludes with the announcement of the impending wedding, to be held that afternoon, of Graduate VONDA LACEY to HARRALD NEALM of Brunsmoor, South Georgia, Confederate States of America.) (Loud applause.) (Lights dim. Lights out.) END OF ACT TWO, SCENE SIX END OF ACT TWO |
| I had a scary thought this morning concerning the oil spill. Not only is that broken pipe still pumping out oil despite the containment efforts, not only might the volume of oil pouring into the Gulf of Mexico be up to fourteen times greater than the quantity announced by British Petroleum, owner of the defective and destroyed rig-but hurricane season is fast approaching this exact area. Hurricane Season commences June 1-only 10 days away. http://www.nhc.noaa.gov/index.shtml http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-oil-spill-20100521,0,776162... One positive point may be that where BP can't fix it, perhaps Kevin Costner, the actor can. He has worked for fifteen years, to the expense of $24 million, to find a containment solution for oil spills. http://feeds.latimes.com/~r/latimes/news/science/environment/~3/kWAnin1kf2s/la-n... Obax and The Night-Riders, A Stage Play continued: ACT TWO, SCENE FOUR April 26, 1863 Wesleyan Women's College Macon, Georgia, CSA REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK's Office Afternoon. (Lights up.) Sunshine through wide West windows pools on plush carpeting and highlights floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, STAGE RIGHT. Large desk is set just to North (or to rear) of West windows (nearly floor-to- ceiling) and is almost covered with papers, memos, and books. A quill pen, ink stand, and blotter are also on the REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK's desk, and a name plaque sits at the front left corner of the desktop reading “REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK RUFUS A. FISK.”) (Behind the desk sits a large heavyset man with chin whiskers, sideburns, all in white, and a thick head of white hair, combed straight back from his forehead. His face is jowly and fleshy, pinkish but not ruddy. Clearly he is of a temperate constitution, as befits a minister in the Methodist Episcopal Church.) (At a knock on the door, STAGE RIGHT FOREGROUND, he sets aside the book he has been perusing, and selects a telegram, which he holds just above the desk and reads carefully, frowning.) (A female secretary in a starched white shirtwaist and pale blue serge skirt, a graduate of Wesleyan Ladies' College and an alumnae, opens the door (STAGE RIGHT FOREGROUND) and peeks around it, addressing THE REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK.) SECRETARY: REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK, MADEMOISELLE WILLIS and her student VONDA LACEY are here, at your request. REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: (nods without looking, reaches to his left for a second telegram) Thank you, Miss Barnes. Please give me one more moment and then send them in. SECRETARY: Yes, REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK, thank you. (bows out the door, closing it behind her.) (REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK sets both telegrams, one atop the other, back on the center cleared space on his desk. He then puts his elbows on the desk, clasps his hands, and rests his forehead on them. Clearly he is spending this moment in prayer. When he is finished, he raises his head, places both hands flat atop the telegrams, and calls out.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: Come in, please! (Door opens STAGE RIGHT FOREGROUND. SECRETARY enters, ushers in INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS, student VONDA LACEY, INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON.) (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS wears a gray cotton dress with a white apron. Her dull black hair is pulled into a bun so tight that her complexion appears stretched. Her mouth is downturned and crimped. Obvious frown lines stretch from nostrils to chin.) INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON, however, is elegant in a pale grey silk gown with ruffles vertically on the front, a pearl grey wide sash, and a white collar. Her high-button shoes are highly polished, as if they had just received the administrations of a bootblack, and her hair is pouffed at the front in the Gibson Girl style that will not become a fashion mode for another three decades, with curls descending over each ear. Her hair is a chestnut brown, lighter than VONDA LACEY'S, with golden-reddish highlights.) (STUDENT VONDA LACEY wears a chocolate brown, but stylish gown. Her shoes are also polished, but not to the glaring extent of INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON'S. Her hair is combed neatly back and fastened into a French chignon just above her high white collar. Her expression is troubled, almost anxious, as she has been summoned from INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS' Ladies' Deportment class in the morning, and told by REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK'S SECRETARY to report to THE REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK'S office this afternoon at two PM.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: Come in, Ladies, come in. Please have a seat, MISS LACEY. (All three women note that REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK does not suggest either of the instructors be seated, but only the student.) (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS' frown deepens.) (INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON looks unconcerned and even flighty, as always, and appears supremely unaffected by the dismayed glance given her appearance by REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK.) (VONDA LACEY moves to the davenport in front of the bookshelves at STAGE RIGHT and sits in the center, on the edge of the cushion, back very straight in the upright pose insisted on by INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS' Ladies' Deportment course, but her hands are clasped in her lap so tightly entwined that their color has turned to pale.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: (Looks up, gives VONDA LACEY on the davenport a considering, yet pitying look, straightens, clasps both hands atop the stack of two telegrams, then speaks.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: MISS LACEY-VONDA-I regret very much to inform you that (sighs deeply) your father, and your brother (another deep sigh) have been lost fighting for the Glorious Cause. VONDA LACEY: (emits a low-voiced scream, gasps, bows her head and covers her face with her hands, sobbing quietly into her palms) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: You will need to hear some details, MISS LACEY, and then there is a little matter we must discuss. INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON: Sir, MISS LACEY lost her mother just a few years ago, before she came to us here at The College. With this loss of her father and brother, she is now alone in the world, with no Guardian and no remaining close family members. VONDA LACEY: (voice muffled by hands over face) MAJOR NELSON VONNIE ANDERSON: (bends over VONDA LACEY, places a hand on VONDA'S quaking shoulder) What, dear? INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS: (snorts in disapproval of INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON'S familiarity with a student) VONDA LACEY: (raises her head, but keeps hands close together just below her chin, now clasped as if in prayer) My cousin. MAJOR NELSON. SHERROD LACEY NELSON-he's a Major in the Army. He and my Papa (here bursts into sobs and again buries her face in her hands) (recovering somewhat) COUSIN NELSON and Papa are-were-third cousins. He is the only family left that I know of. He lives-his home is at Savannah. He is an Attorney; he came to see me at the time of the dedication for the Cornerstone for the Armory, and earlier, when The College had the Debutante Ball. (turns to INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON and INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS) You remember, don't you, MISS ANDERSON? MADEMOISELLE WILLIS? You met my COUSIN MAJOR NELSON. REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: (clears throat) MISS LACEY, your Cousin is part of what I need to tell you now. Please listen. (delivers a quelling look at INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON and INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS) Your father, I regret to say, was lost at the Battle of Bayou Pierre, in your home state of Mississippi, back on April 2. I do not know why I was not notified earlier of his decease. I just this morning received a telegram from your Cousin, MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON, informing me of the loss of your father. Your brother, Ford, died at the Battle of Tuscumbia, in Alabama, our neighboring state, just three days ago, on April 24. (He holds up the top telegram.) THAT telegram arrived just this morning, also. It is not clear from your COUSIN MAJOR'S telegram this morning whether he has been apprised of your brother Ford's death; but I will send him a reply telegram this afternoon. At any event, MISS LACEY, all of us here at Wesleyan Ladies' College deeply regret your loss, and all of the Instructors (bending a stern eye toward INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS and INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON) will do all they can to assist you in your time of grief. Your graduation date is approaching-early next month-and you of course will need to make plans as to what you wish to do following graduation. I am certain that a place may be made ready for you if you wish to remain with us at The College as an instructor. I understand your French language and culture abilities are [italicized]non pareil. A position could certainly be found for you as an Instructor, or at minimum a tutor. (finally pauses for breath. In the intervening silence, only the ticking of the grandfather clock at STAGE LEFT FOREGROUND, and the continued quiet sobbing of VONDA LACEY can be heard.) (INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON continues to pat VONDA LACEY on the shoulder and to rub her upper back gently. INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS watches this, frowning.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: (clears throat, pauses, speaks) MISS LACEY, I will notify your Cousin by telegram this afternoon and ask what he intends. In the meantime, perhaps you would benefit by returning to your room and resting. I am sure your roommate- (looks quizzically at INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS) INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS: MISS ASHLEY DUMPLING, Sir. REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: Yes, MISS DUMPLING-I am certain she will be pleased to watch over you while you rest. In the meanwhile, once I have had information from your Cousin, the Major, I will advise you as to what steps are to be taken. (REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK stands, in what is clearly a dismisal, and motions to INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS to take VONDA LACEY out of his office. However, INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON, already at VONDA'S side, is lifting VONDA to her feet and escorting her to the door, one arm around the younger woman's waist.) (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS frowns at the two women, then turns toward REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK, still standing behind his desk, holding the two telegrams, and bows her head, unsmiling. She reverses and follows INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON and Student VONDA LACEY through the door, STAGE RIGHT FOREGROUND.) END OF ACT TWO, SCENE FOUR |
| Obax and the Night-Riders, a Stage Play: ACT TWO, SCENE THREE (Lights up.) Early Evening. Outdoor tables, Fincher's Barbecue Restaurant. Macon, Georgia, CSA. South side of the city. January. Evening of the Corner Stone presentation. (Seated at the picnic table farthest from the restaurant entrance are HARRALD NEALM and MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON, CSA, on one side. CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, CSA, sits on the opposite side, his body language showing revulsion and anger at the presence of HARRALD NEALM, whom he now obviously considers his rival for the attentions and affections of VONDA NEALM.) (As a waiter comes out of the restaurant carrying three plates of barbecued ribs with coleslaw and potato salad on the side, HARRALD NEALM remains deep in conversation with MAJOR NELSON. CAPTAIN HEATH continues to eye them disgruntledly, but digs into his meal ravenously, as if his mind is elsewhere and the act of eating has become an involuntary nervous system reaction.) HARRALD NEALM: Wal, Sir, Ah think we have come to an agreement then! (pulls out papers, hands them to THE MAJOR, who nods, then signs the final sheet and returns them to HARRALD NEALM. He glances up and intercepts THE CAPTAIN'S frown, winks at THE CAPTAIN.) THE MAJOR: Ah,too, think we will do jest fahn as soon as thet Ahrmohry is in place and manufacturing. You do know, HARRALD, that the Spiller & Burr manufactury will be moving over here-to the Armory, that is-and the Pistol Department too. SUPERINTENDENT BURTON has big plans! And he has the City Engineer of Macon himself, one Augustus Schwaab, drawing up the blueprints. Very impressive. With a man like BURTON at the helm, we shall surely do well. HARRALD NEALM: Yes, indeedy, I do agree, MAJOR! Don't you, CAPTAIN? CAPTAIN HEATH: (Lost in thought, doesn't realize his rival has addressed him, till the Major nudges his arm and speaks.) MAJOR NELSON: JUDSON, do you not agree with MR. NEALM and myself? That SUPERINTENDENT BURTON is immensely capable and has formed great plans for our new Armory? CAPTAIN: Oh! Oh, yes, certainly. Yes. I anticipate the vast production of weapons the SUPERINTENDENT has promised our Army. Definitely so. (sinks back into contemplation of his own thoughts as he finishes clearing his plate) (Lights dim gradually on the three men, as CAPTAIN HEATH dines and MAJOR NELSON and HARRALD NEALM continue to converse quietly, heads close together like capable conspirators. CAPTAIN HEATH again appears to be the odd one out, just as ASHLEY DUMPLING was in the earlier scene, when VONDA LACEY and CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH conversed under the shade trees.) END OF ACT TWO, SCENE THREE ACT TWO, SCENE FOUR April 26, 1863 Wesleyan Women's College Macon, Georgia, CSA REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK's Office Afternoon. (Lights up.) Sunshine through wide West windows pools on plush carpeting and highlights floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, STAGE RIGHT. Large desk is set just to North (or to rear) of West windows (nearly floor-to- ceiling) and is almost covered with papers, memos, and books. A quill pen, ink stand, and blotter are also on the REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK's desk, and a name plaque sits at the front left corner of the desktop reading “REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK RUFUS A. FISK.”) (Behind the desk sits a large heavyset man with chin whiskers, sideburns, all in white, and a thick head of white hair, combed straight back from his forehead. His face is jowly and fleshy, pinkish but not ruddy. Clearly he is of a temperate constitution, as befits a minister in the Methodist Episcopal Church.) (At a knock on the door, STAGE RIGHT FOREGROUND, he sets aside the book he has been perusing, and selects a telegram, which he holds just above the desk and reads carefully, frowning.) (A female secretary in a starched white shirtwaist and pale blue serge skirt, a graduate of Wesleyan Ladies' College and an alumnae, opens the door (STAGE RIGHT FOREGROUND) and peeks around it, addressing THE REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK.) SECRETARY: REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK, MADEMOISELLE WILLIS and her student VONDA LACEY are here, at your request. REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: (nods without looking, reaches to his left for a second telegram) Thank you, Miss Barnes. Please give me one more moment and then send them in. SECRETARY: Yes, REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK, thank you. (bows out the door, closing it behind her.) (REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK sets both telegrams, one atop the other, back on the center cleared space on his desk. He then puts his elbows on the desk, clasps his hands, and rests his forehead on them. Clearly he is spending this moment in prayer. When he is finished, he raises his head, places both hands flat atop the telegrams, and calls out.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: Come in, please! (Door opens STAGE RIGHT FOREGROUND. SECRETARY enters, ushers in INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS, student VONDA LACEY, INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON.) (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS wears a gray cotton dress with a white apron. Her dull black hair is pulled into a bun so tight that her complexion appears stretched. Her mouth is downturned and crimped. Obvious frown lines stretch from nostrils to chin.) INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON, however, is elegant in a pale grey silk gown with ruffles vertically on the front, a pearl grey wide sash, and a white collar. Her high-button shoes are highly polished, as if they had just received the administrations of a bootblack, and her hair is pouffed at the front in the Gibson Girl style that will not become a fashion mode for another three decades, with curls descending over each ear. Her hair is a chestnut brown, lighter than VONDA LACEY'S, with golden-reddish highlights.) (STUDENT VONDA LACEY wears a chocolate brown, but stylish gown. Her shoes are also polished, but not to the glaring extent of INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON'S. Her hair is combed neatly back and fastened into a French chignon just above her high white collar. Her expression is troubled, almost anxious, as she has been summoned from INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS' Ladies' Deportment class in the morning, and told by REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK'S SECRETARY to report to THE REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK'S office this afternoon at two PM.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: Come in, Ladies, come in. Please have a seat, MISS LACEY. (All three women note that REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK does not suggest either of the instructors be seated, but only the student.) (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS' frown deepens.) (INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON looks unconcerned and even flighty, as always, and appears supremely unaffected by the dismayed glance given her appearance by REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK.) (VONDA LACEY moves to the davenport in front of the bookshelves at STAGE RIGHT and sits in the center, on the edge of the cushion, back very straight in the upright pose insisted on by INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS' Ladies' Deportment course, but her hands are clasped in her lap so tightly entwined that their color has turned to pale.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: (Looks up, gives VONDA LACEY on the davenport a considering, yet pitying look, straightens, clasps both hands atop the stack of two telegrams, then speaks.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: MISS LACEY-VONDA-I regret very much to inform you that (sighs deeply) your father, and your brother (another deep sigh) have been lost fighting for the Glorious Cause. VONDA LACEY: (emits a low-voiced scream, gasps, bows her head and covers her face with her hands, sobbing quietly into her palms) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: You will need to hear some details, MISS LACEY, and then there is a little matter we must discuss. INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON: Sir, MISS LACEY lost her mother just a few years ago, before she came to us here at The College. With this loss of her father and brother, she is now alone in the world, with no Guardian and no remaining close family members. VONDA LACEY: (voice muffled by hands over face) MAJOR NELSON VONNIE ANDERSON: (bends over VONDA LACEY, places a hand on VONDA'S quaking shoulder) What, dear? INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS: (snorts in disapproval of INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON'S familiarity with a student) VONDA LACEY: (raises her head, but keeps hands close together just below her chin, now clasped as if in prayer) My cousin. MAJOR NELSON. SHERROD LACEY NELSON-he's a Major in the Army. He and my Papa (here bursts into sobs and again buries her face in her hands) (recovering somewhat) COUSIN NELSON and Papa are-were-third cousins. He is the only family left that I know of. He lives-his home is at Savannah. He is an Attorney; he came to see me at the time of the dedication for the Cornerstone for the Armory, and earlier, when The College had the Debutante Ball. (turns to INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON and INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS) You remember, don't you, MISS ANDERSON? MADEMOISELLE WILLIS? You met my COUSIN MAJOR NELSON. REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: (clears throat) MISS LACEY, your Cousin is part of what I need to tell you now. Please listen. (delivers a quelling look at INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON and INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS) Your father, I regret to say, was lost at the Battle of Bayou Pierre, in your home state of Mississippi, back on April 2. I do not know why I was not notified earlier of his decease. I just this morning received a telegram from your Cousin, MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON, informing me of the loss of your father. Your brother, Ford, died at the Battle of Tuscumbia, in Alabama, our neighboring state, just three days ago, on April 24. (He holds up the top telegram.) THAT telegram arrived just this morning, also. It is not clear from your COUSIN MAJOR'S telegram this morning whether he has been apprised of your brother Ford's death; but I will send him a reply telegram this afternoon. At any event, MISS LACEY, all of us here at Wesleyan Ladies' College deeply regret your loss, and all of the Instructors (bending a stern eye toward INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS and INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON) will do all they can to assist you in your time of grief. Your graduation date is approaching-early next month-and you of course will need to make plans as to what you wish to do following graduation. I am certain that a place may be made ready for you if you wish to remain with us at The College as an instructor. I understand your French language and culture abilities are [italicized]non pareil. A position could certainly be found for you as an Instructor, or at minimum a tutor. (finally pauses for breath. In the intervening silence, only the ticking of the grandfather clock at STAGE LEFT FOREGROUND, and the continued quiet sobbing of VONDA LACEY can be heard.) (INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON continues to pat VONDA LACEY on the shoulder and to rub her upper back gently. INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS watches this, frowning.) REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: (clears throat, pauses, speaks) MISS LACEY, I will notify your Cousin by telegram this afternoon and ask what he intends. In the meantime, perhaps you would benefit by returning to your room and resting. I am sure your roommate- (looks quizzically at INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS) INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS: MISS ASHLEY DUMPLING, Sir. REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK: Yes, MISS DUMPLING-I am certain she will be pleased to watch over you while you rest. In the meanwhile, once I have had information from your Cousin, the Major, I will advise you as to what steps are to be taken. (REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK stands, in what is clearly a dismisal, and motions to INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS to take VONDA LACEY out of his office. However, INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON, already at VONDA'S side, is lifting VONDA to her feet and escorting her to the door, one arm around the younger woman's waist.) (INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS frowns at the two women, then turns toward REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK, still standing behind his desk, holding the two telegrams, and bows her head, unsmiling. She reverses and follows INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON and Student VONDA LACEY through the door, STAGE RIGHT FOREGROUND.) {/b] |
| Choosing today from a rich menu of environmental issues: First is honeybees. Not something we often think about, those of us who are not active beekeepers. But bees have been on my mind quite a bit since recently reading two consecutive novels in Laurie R. King's “Mary Russell” series (in which Mary Russell, a Jewish Oxford scholar from pre-1906 Earthquake San Francisco, is also the young wife-and detecting partner-of one Sherlock Holmes), The Language of Bees and The God of the Hive. A little research indicates what a valuable part of the U.S. Agricultural economy are honeybees. $14 billion annually is the honeybee contribution, a full third or more of U.S. Crops are dependent on honeybees. But honeybees for the past several years have been afflicted with a syndrome titled “Honeybee Colony Collapse Disorder.” Worker bees become unaccountably disoriented, failing to find their hives, and often leave the larvae unattended to starve. Such is the case purported in Russell's The Language of Bees, which I read only a few short weeks before discovering this Care2.com article on Honeybee Colony Collapse Disorder-yet another case of Life Imitating Art. Although the causes aren't definitively identified, the consequences are known. Wild honeybees are now almost nonexistent, and more than one-third of domesticated (hived) honeybees are inexplicably dying. Once again, it seems that stewardship by humanity is failing Nature. http://www.care2.com/causes/real-food/blog/honeybee/ Kudzu: We in the South have known for six decades that this imported greenery is persistent, invasive, and takes no prisoners. Taking over buildings, utility poles, and trees, kudzu also apparently interferes with air quality as well. A new study claims that the spread of kudzu intensifies ozone, the colorless and odorless gas which is a major ingredient of smog and intensifies respiratory disorders and asthma. http://www.latimes.com/news/science/la-sci-kudzu-20100522,0,4766936,full.story http://www.pnas.org/content/early/2010/05/12/0912279107 |
| Obax and the Night-Riders ACT TWO, SCENE TWO (Lights up.) (Daytime. Outdoors.) Macon, Georgia, CSA. Location: SouthWest side of city. January, 1863.(Daytime. Outdoors.) Macon, Georgia, CSA. Location: SouthWest side of city. January, 1863. Late Afternoon. (The official festivities have ended. Crowds are still milling about the new site, although many fewer than initially. Stonemasons and slave laborers have moved to the rear of the site, far beyond the official congregants, and are working diligently, using the remainder of the daylight to work on the foundation. All involved with the Confederate States Armory of Macon, Georgia, CSA are very aware of the urgency. The date is now late January, 1863, the War has been underway for twenty- one months, and no early nor easy end is in sight. So the necessity for the new Armory to go into production quickly is apparent.) (Among the Wesleyan Ladies' College contingent, REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK Fisk has returned from the viewing stand and busily instructs the teachers to shepherd their charges toward the waiting carriages (out of sight to STAGE RIGHT). When the student heads are counted, one is found not present- Senior student VONDA LACEY.) (ARABELLA WILLIS, Instructor of French and Ladies' Deportment, steps forward.) ARABELLA WILLIS: Miss Lacey! VONDA LACEY! (Looks around, calls to ASHLEY DUMPLING, a student who is VONDA LACEY'S closest friend at the College) ARABELLA WILLIS: ASHLEY DUMPLING! To me, please, ma'am! ASHLEY DUMPLING: (scurries to ARABELLA WILLIS' side) Yes, MADEMOISELLE WILLIS? ARABELLA WILLIS: Ashley, surely you've seen VONDA LACEY? Whereabout is that girl? REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK Fisk is ordering us to leave and return to the school. We must find her at once, I say! ASHLEY DUMPLING: Ah, MADEMOISELLE WILLIS, I think I saw her over there with her Cousin, MADEMOISELLE. If I might be permitted to go look? ARABELLA WILLIS: Oui, immediament! (As French instructor, ARABELLA WILLIS much prefers to address her charges in that language.) ASHLEY DUMPLING: (curtsies and rushes off, first toward the shade trees where she had earlier spotted VONDA LACEY chatting with THE CAPTAIN and enviously watched, rather than pay attention to the official speeches; then toward the far end of the crowd, near STAGE FOREGROUND CENTER, where she now notices CONFEDERATE ARMY gray uniforms as the remaining crowd shifts, preparatory to leaving, and she then sees a gray felt-brimmed Officer's hat towering above the other individuals.) (In the group that Ashley approaches are VONDA LACEY, CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON, and HARRALD NEALM, who has just turned from completing a final conversation for the day with SUPERINTENDENT OF ARMORIES JAMES H. BURTON.) (SUPERINTENDENT BURTON gives a deep bow to VONDA LACEY, and also shakes hands with HARRALD NEALM, MAJOR NELSON, AND CAPTAIN HEATH. Steps away from the group to return to the City Officials, STAGE CENTER.) (Lights dim at STAGE REAR, above the Stonemasons and Slave laborers. Lights dim above the group of City Officials and SUPERINTENDENT OF ARMORIES BURTON.) (VONDA LACEY, CAPTAIN HEATH, MAJOR NELSON, and HARRALD NEALM shift as a group to STAGE CENTER FOREGROUND, where they are now joined by a breathless ASHLEY DUMPLING.) ASHLEY DUMPLING: VONDA! VONDA! MADEMOISELLE WILLIS wants you back NOW! (breathless, gasps) VONDA LACEY: (finally takes her eyes from THE CAPTAIN, turns, notices ASHLEY DUMPLING running toward her) ASHLEY, whatevah is the mattah? ASHLEY DUMPLING: Reverend REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK Fisk says it's time to return to the College. MADEMOISELLE WILLIS says come right now. VONDA LACEY: (starts to turn back toward THE CAPTAIN, who has suddenly stepped backwards, then spots her Cousin, MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON, frowning at her and almost imperceptibly shaking his head. She turns back toward ASHLEY DUMPLING, when HARRALD NEALM steps forward toward her, past MAJOR NELSON.) HARRALD NEALM: (holds out an arm toward VONDA LACEY) If I might be permitted, ma'am. I would be most happy to escort you to your instructors. (smiles wetly) MAJOR NELSON: Most kind of you, Sir (clears throat) but I think perhaps Ah shall walk the young lady-my cousin-and her companion-Miss Dumpling is it? ASHLEY DUMPLING: (nods and simpers, curtsies lightly; but her eyes have passed beyond both MAJOR NELSON and HARRALD NEALM-both middle-aged gentleman-and are fixed on CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH.) MAJOR NELSON: (wisely discerning the nature of the situation between the two ladies and his CAPTAIN) Well, come along then, HARRALD, you and I together shall escort these fine young flowers of Southern womanhood back to their chaperonage. (looks behind him to CAPTAIN HEATH) JUDSON, check the horses and make sure they're ready for us, please. I'll be right there, as soon as HARRALD and I deliver the ladies. Oh, and JUDSON, get HARRALD'S horse ready too, please. We three will be dining at Fincher's as soon as we leave here. Military business, don't you know. (and THE MAJOR winks at THE CAPTAIN) (VONDA LACEY, ASHLEY DUMPLING, HARRALD NEALM, and MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON walk to STAGE REAR LEFT, in the direction of the Wesleyan Ladies' College group.) (Lights above STAGE REAR LEFT come up, above the Wesleyan Ladies' College group.) (Lights brighten STAGE CENTER FOREGROUND, bringing focus on CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, CSA, who stares after HARRALD NEALM with fierce resentment.) (Lights down, STAGE CENTER FOREGROUND. All lights down.) END OF ACT TWO, SCENE TW0 |
| Obax and the Night-Riders, a Stage Play ACT TWO ACT TWO, SCENE ONE (Lights up.) (Daytime. Outdoors.) Macon, Georgia, CSA. Location: SouthWest side of city. January, 1863. CHARACTERS: James H. Burton, Superintendent of Armories, Confederate States of America Augustus Schwaab, City Engineer, Macon, Georgia, Architect of CSA Macon City Officials MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON, CSA CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, CSA HARRALD NEALM Macon Society inc. from Wesleyan Ladies' College REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK RUFUS FISK INSTRUCTOR ARABELLA WILLIS INSTRUCTOR VONNIE ANDERSON VONDA NEALM, student ASHLEY DUMPLING, student and roommate ' Background CHARACTERS: Assorted STONEMASONS, CARPENTERS, BRICKMASONS 150 SLAVE LABORERS, inc. ALEC, WALTER, TRULEE of TALLAMASSEE PLANTATION, near Millsboro, East Georgia Ps. 118:22 he stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner. King James (VOICES of two men are heard over the low-voiced conversations throughout the crowd, the shuffle of footsteps, and the occasional rattle of chains as the bound slave laborers shift in place under the Georgia sun.) JAMES BURTON, SUPERINTENDENT OF ARMORIES, CSA: Oh, we have major plans, MR. NEALM! Major plans, indeed! You see, we are set for manufacturing of arms on a giant scale here; 177,000 square feet JUST for manufacturing! That's not to mention all the other necessities: in addition to the main building, which we will construct to two stories, we will have a smithy, a barrel-rolling department, storehouses, coal sheds, proof house, and of course living quarters for all these laborers. Those men and slaves you see out here at the edge of the crowd, farthest from the location of the Corner Stone? Those will not even make a TENTH, Sir, of the men and slave labor we will have to call in to finish this building! Our Macon Armory will be the biggest, the best, and the most efficient throughout our Confederate States! HARRALD NEALM: VERY Impressive, Superintendent! I hope you can find a place for a humble businessman and Auctioneer such as myself to become a part of this vital military and industrial endeavour! SUPERINTENDENT BURTON: Have no doubt, Sir! We need all the loyal businesspersons we can find, and you are at the very top of our list! Let us meet for refreshments after the laying of today's Corner Stone, shall we? And we will surely hammer out an agreement of benefit to us all before we are done. (Sounds of a sledgehammer on stone, calling the crowd to attention.) (SUPERINTENDENT JAMES H. BURTON strides to the new CORNER STONE, taking his place beside it and holding up both hands for attention and silence.) SUPERINTENDENT BURTON: We are gathered here today, Gentlemen (and Ladies!) to commemmorate the commencement of a most important work, a constrution that will be of immense and enormous benefit to our Beloved Cause. Today we lay the Corner Stone, the very foundation, if you will, of the great and noble CONFEDERATE STATES ARMORY of Macon, Georgia, Confederate States of America!! Ps. 118:22 The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner. King James Version (Wild applause, cheers, shouts, foot-stomping.) SUPERINTENDENT BURTON: (in a lower volume) Gentlemen (and ladies) the world will long remember, and we who are gathered here today shall never forget, the extraordinary and monumental work which is to be accomplished here on this site. We shall build (shouts) THE BIGGEST, THE BEST, THE MOST EFFICIENT MANUFACTURING ARM OF THE JUST CAUSE, THE ONLY CAUSE, THE CONFEDERACY! (Deafening applause) (At the outskirts of the crowd stand the contingent from Wesleyan Ladies' College of instructors and students. The only missing Wesleyan individual is REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK Rufus Fisk, who stands with Superintendent Burton and the City Officials of Macon, at the front, near the Corner Stone which is about to be placed.) (Those Wesleyan Ladies' College students who have family and relations in or near the City who are attending stand with them, interspersed throughout the crowd. One of these is VONDA LACEY, who has arrived at the site with the College group, but has met up with her third cousin and sort of on-site Guardian, MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON.) (Standing with VONDA LACEY ` and THE MAJOR is CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, CSA, who has accompanied THE MAJOR to the presentation as his Aide-de-Camp.) THE CAPTAIN: Are you too warm, MISS LACEY? Would you care for a sherbet? Ah'll step ovah there, see that vendor raht past the crowd? VONDA LACEY: Ah wouldn't mahnd that at ahl, Sir, Ah thank you. THE CAPTAIN: Perhaps you'd care to step over there with me, and sit under the trees ovah theah, out of this sun? VONDA LACEY: (glances at THE MAJOR, since she is after all here unchaperoned, except for the Wesleyan College instructors, and her third cousin, THE MAJOR. But he is very intent on watching the speakers, specifically SUPERINTENDENT JAMES H. BURTON, and a second man near the Corner Stone, HARRALD NEALM. So THE MAJOR misses VONDA'S glance toward him.) (VONDA reaches up and accepts THE CAPTAIN'S arm, and they walk away from the crowd past its outskirts. He leads her to a bench under the shade trees, and then walks back to buy two sherbets from the vendor, which he then carries back to the bench and sits next to VONDA LACEY. The two sit quietly conversing, unheard, heads together, occasionally smiling or laughing, and soon are gazing into each other's eyes, oblivious to the ongoing speeches or to the Wesleyan Ladies College instructors, now eyeing them distrustfully, or to THE MAJOR, who has at last discovered that his COUSIN VONDA is no longer standing beside him.) (Lights down.) |
| Today I am ranting about child abuse investigation in L.A. County, a horribly tragic abuse situation in Southern California which has lasted now for at least seven years, and the tragic impact of the exploded oil rig on the ecosystems and marine life of the Gulf of Mexico. To counterbalance with the positive, I'll rave about an author newly discovered (by me). I opened www.latimes.com this morning and discovered that Los Angeles County has a terrible backlog of cases, uninvestigated, not fully investigated, possibly even closed because of lack of manpower. L.A. County Child Protective Services employees are sent out into the field without county-provided cell phones or laptop computers, so they have no access to County databases. They go into crime-ridden areas often not knowing what kind of situations they might encounter, armed only with a printout of the alleged address and directions downloaded from the Internet. My adult daughter postulated that now abusive parents from other districts (not just California) will flock to L.A. County for “safety” from potential retribution. I wonder how many children in peril are being overlooked; and also how many families might be broken apart when falsely investigated because the caseworkers lack so much accurate information? http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-child-abuse-20100516,0,213758.story A tragic situation of child sexual abuse in California: a 17-year-old girl told her friend that she has been molested since age ten by her guardian, a British citizen and illegal immigrant in the States. This man and her stepsister became her guardians when her grandmother, who had raised her, died when the child was ten. She was “homeschooled” by this abuser. http://www.ktla.com/news/landing/ktla-david-goddard-molest,0,2859793.story?track... In addition to the loss of life when the oil rig exploded, the continuing, seemingly unstoppable, spread of the oil slick has endangered, and killed, marine life, and threatens the livelihoods of fishermen and others who make their living from the Gulf. The situation is worsened by the time of year: migrating and nesting birds are prevented from procreating and hatching their young. http://www.care2.com/greenliving/12-animals-threatened-by-the-oil-spill.html Now on to a positive: last evening I “discovered” an author previously unknown to me-more accurately, known but never read. Author Harry Harrison, an aficionado of “alternate history,” is a rockin' writer whose plot twists and plot pacing will keep readers enthralled. I know I read well over 100 pages in a very short time, and only stopped because I was reading late into the night. I'll be returning to the novel quickly today! His characterizations are fascinating, the suspense is constantly escalating-yet in a realistic fashion, so there's no question of not being able to suspend disbelief. He knows his background, he understands individuals. The novel I am currently reading is A Rebel in Time, and Mr. Harrison gently but firmly balances white supremacy issues (in the villain) against a protagonist who is a highly-educated black Army Sergeant working in G2 Intelligence, optioned by a clandestine security agency which “watches the watchers and guards the guardians.” As soon as I finish A Rebel in Time today, I'll be starting on Mr. Harrison's alternate-Civil War trilogy: Stars and Stripes Forever Stars and Stripes in Peril Stars and Stripes Triumphant. http://www.harryharrison.com/ http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/h/harry-harrison/ |
| Obax and the Night-Riders ACT ONE, SCENE FIVE (Lights up. Dim.) (Nighttime. Outdoors. Wesleyan College lawns. Outside Ballroom. Verandah at STAGE RIGHT.) (Two men stand just outside the light from the open Ballroom door, conversing quietly. They are HARRALD NEALM and MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON. THE MAJOR, an attorney in civilian life, is advising HARRALD NEALM, an Auctioneer and businessman on the edge between legal and illegal commerce, on the proprieties of conducting a Slave Auction in this city of Macon, Georgia, at the first of February, now that Union REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK Abraham Lincoln has enacted his EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION just this month, freeing the slaves.) (A horse's harness jangles against wood, a man's muttered voice curses. Bootsteps on the verandah, entering from STAGE RIGHT, REAR.) (CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, CSA, appears on the Verandah from STAGE RIGHT REAR. He is sharply attired in a starched pressed uniform and spit-shined knee- high boots, a broad felt hat on his precisely-combed blond hair. His mouth is crimped in distaste or disgruntlement, until THE MAJOR steps forward into the light and THE CAPTAIN sees him. THE CAPTAIN forces a faux smile and salutes, a gesture which THE MAJOR returns.) THE MAJOR: CAPTAIN HEATH. I expected you quite some time earlier. (waves a dismissing hand as THE CAPTAIN attempts to demur.) Well, no matter. Now that yah're here, would you be so kind as to keep my lovely Cousin company for me, just until Ah finish mah business outside? She is near the refreshment table, Ah believe. Thankee. (THE CAPTAIN bows low and strides through the Ballroom archway, removing his hat, then turns right, his face glowing as he steps inside and spots VONDA LACEY, whom the audience cannot see at this point.) (THE MAJOR returns to the side of HARRALD NEALM, who grasps his uniform coat sleeve and pulls him farther into the shadows. Now neither man is visible, but their mumblings can be heard as they continue to discuss both the upcoming Slave Auction at the downtown DAVIS SMITH SLAVE MARKET, and the business contracts HARRALD NEALM is negotiating between THE FINDLEY IRON WORKS of Macon, Georgia, and THE CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA ARMORY, soon to be constructed in Macon.) (Lights dim even more. Lights out.) END OF ACT ONE, SCENE FIVE ACT ONE, SCENE SIX (Lights up.) (BALLROOM, Wesleyan College. Long ballroom. Frescoes decorate walls above chair railing, white painted vertical planks below to parquet floor. Chandelier filled with lit candles depends from center of ceiling. Wall sconces hold kerosene lanterns.) (Viewing from STAGE RIGHT.) Crowd, dancers waltz, laugh, flirt coyly. In the corners STAGE REAR small groups of men congregate to converse, their expressions serious and sometimes gloomy. To STAGE FOREGROUND, the long refreshment table hosts many congregants, sipping champagne or selecting canapes'.) (At the far STAGE LEFT FOREGROUND, VONDA LACEY is pressed in upon by CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, CSA. He hands her a champagne flute and a plate, effectively rendering her hands full.) THE CAPTAIN: Now what else can I get you, my dear? More canapes', perhaps? Another champagne? Would you care to sit down? Perhaps you would prefer to dance? (His eyes are gleaming and his behavior is superbly tailored to his newest potential conquest, or so he considers.) VONDA LACEY: You are very kind, Sir, but Ah believe you have offered me quite all I can handle right here. (slightly motions with her left hand, holding the platter) Ah don't think Ah could eat more than this. (offers THE CAPTAIN a winsome smile) but Ah do b'lieve Ah would care to sit for a spell, wouldn't you mind. THE CAPTAIN: (bows deeply, waves his right arm indicating that she should precede him. They walk to STAGE RIGHT, where comfortable armchairs are set along the wall, interspersed with settees. Chaperones and those instructors who consider themselves too elder or too weary to waltz are seated, intermittently spaced. He is seen to consider suggesting an empty settee, then changes his mind and waves her into an armchair, after first taking her plate and flute so she can settle her hoop skirts comfortably. He keeps the plate, leaning over her so she can select canapes, but returns the flute to her.) (THE CAPTAIN and VONDA LACEY converse quietly, she occasionally smiling slightly, he smiling widely with glittering teeth. Once or twice she glances up at him briefly, but maintains throughout a circumspect demeanour as befits an unchaperoned unmarried socialite female.) (Sounds of revelry- music and chatter-mute gradually.) (Candlelight and lantern- light dim.) (Lights out.) END OF ACT ONE, SCENE SIX END OF ACT ONE  |
Obax and the Nght-Riders ACT ONE, SCENE FOUR January, 1863. Wesleyan Ladies' College, Macon, Georgia, CSA Central Ballroom CHARACTERS: VONDA LACEY, student MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON, CSA CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, CSA HARRALD NEALM, Brunsmoor, South Georgia Businessman, Auctioneer, currently on business trip involving FINDLAY IRON WORKS OF MACON, GEORGIA ASHLEY DUMPLING, student REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK RUFUS FISK, Wesleyan Ladies' College ARABELLA WILLIS, Instructor of French and Ladies' Deportment VONNIE ANDERSON, Instructor of Classics ASSORTED CONFEDERATE OFFICERS ASSORTED MACON SOCIETY FOLK (Lights up.) (Long ballroom. Frescoes decorate walls above chair railing, white painted vertical planks below to parquet floor. Chandelier filled with lit candles depends from center of ceiling. Wall sconces hold kerosene lanterns.) (Ballroom is filled with well-dressed ladies, Confederate officers of various ranks, and local Macon socialites and their fathers, husbands, and brothers. However, on close inspection it is obvious that nearly two years of War have taken a toll; some gowns are made- overs, others show evidence of re-stitching. Many of the local men wear suits which are several years out of fashion. The facade of Society is present, yet lacking much of its substance.) (Brown-haired VONDA LACEY, her hair styled in the fashion of SARAH KNOX TAYLOR DAVIS-short- lived first wife of CONFEDERACY REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK JEFFERSON DAVIS- wearing a plain silk gown made over from a pre-War fashion, waltzes, wearing a fixed smile which conceals her anxiety concerning the current situations of her father Branford and her brother Ford, both of whom are serving with 1st Alabama, their whereabouts unknown.) MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON: (taps VONDA'S partner on left shoulder, politely nods. VONDA'S partner relinquishes her as waltz completes. MAJOR holds out his right arm for VONDA to take.) A glass of champagne, my dear Cousin? VONDA LACEY: (nods in acquiescence, takes his arm. They turn away from the dancers and walk toward the far end of the ballroom, at STAGE LEFT FOREGROUND, where a long bar has been set up for refreshments and canapes'.) COUSIN SHERROD, Ah've been jest so wohried about Papa and Ford. (fans her face with an elaborate paper fan) Do YOU have any idea, Cousin? MAJOR: (collects two champagne flutes and hands one carefully to VONDA) My dear child, I was in Savannah just the end of last week, at the Dispatch Offices, and I looked through the records. I found no sign of either your father or of your brother Ford. VONDA: (shifts as if to speak) MAJOR: No, no, my dear, that would be good news. That I did not see their names means-they are still alive, still fighting. VONDA: (deflates in obvious relief and sighs) (Before she can speak, a man of middle height, like THE MAJOR, but significantly stockier, in a tight-fitting waistcoat with a pocket watch under a brown jacket and wearing expensive and heavy tan trousers, appears behind THE MAJOR and taps him on the right shoulder.) (THE MAJOR startles, turns, then beams a smile.) THE MAJOR: Why, HARRALD! I was not expecting to see YOU in Macon! HARRALD NEALM: (eyeing VONDA LACEY with a gleam while addressing THE MAJOR) No, indeed, my man. Unexpected business has brought me to town, and I would very much like to discuss it with you, Sir, if I may. It involves (finally turns his gaze away from VONDA, back to THE MAJOR, drops his volume) the Findley Iron Works. There were contracts needing to be negotiated there. And Sir, (here he turns to VONDA) but I am being so discourteous! Please introduce me to your lovely companion! (the gleam is back in his eye now) THE MAJOR: Ah, this is my Cousin, HARRALD, Miss VONDA LACEY of Mississippi. Her father and her brother are right now fighting for our Cause, and MISS VONDA is enrolled at the Wesleyan Ladies' College here in Macon. She will be graduating in May and going home to Mississippi to take up a teaching position there in Corinth. HARRALD NEALM: Oh, my! I am pleased and honored, MISS LACEY. (bows over her now outstretched right hand) Won't you allow me to introduce myself? I am HARRALD NEALM, of Brunsmoor, South Georgia. I own several businesses there, and am often in this fair city in pursuit of business; but I must confess, I have never been to the State of Mississippi, a failing I hope to rectify once we have won this War! Now if you would excuse THE MAJOR and myself for just a moment, ma'am, there is men's business I need to discuss with him-War business, don't you know? (HARRALD NEALM bends low over the hand of VONDA LACEY, kisses it, then pats it lightly and turns to THE MAJOR) HARRALD NEALM: Major, if we could just step out on the verandah for a moment? I really need to discuss with you a little matter about (turns away so that he has placed himself between THE MAJOR and VONDA LACEY, so that she will not hear his next words) the Davis Smith Slave Market here in town. (practically whispering now, as the move away toward the outside archway, leaving VONDA LACEY standing solitary near the bar, looking pensive and thoughtfully after them) HARRALD NEALM: There is to be an auction held near the end of this month, at the Smith Slave Market downtown, MAJOR. If you can, I would like you to attend; you and a few of your fellow officers. THE MAJOR: (looks astonished) But the Proclamation! How are you to get around that, HARRALD? HARRALD NEALM: We ahre in The Confederate States of America, MAJOR, not in the Union. What that man Lincoln says in Washington means nothing to us here. Life goes on, and so does slave-buying, slave-selling, and slave-trading. (lowers his voice again) In fact, I have just the little bootblack boy I can let you have for a pittance, a handy little creature to have around, to polish your boots and brush out your uniforms. Might could even teach him to drum! Then you'd have your Regiment a little pickaninny drummer boy to march before you! (seeing THE MAJOR looking none too pleased at this, HARRALD NEALM changes tacks.) HARRALD NEALM: The major reason I asked you outside to talk (chuckles) is about the Findley Iron Works. A shipment will be prepared ready for the first of February, and we will need an armed guard to escort it to Savannah. It is a VERY important shipment- (their voices dwindle as the two men step down from the verandah and walk out across the College Lawn, heads together like two conspirators, as they proceed STAGE LEFT and out of sight) (Lights out.) END OF ACT ONE, SCENE FOUR |
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