I decided to go over to Stash Skimington’s house this morning, try again to have a man-to-man talk with him. This time he was home, but he wouldn’t open the door for me.
I’m under advisement not to speak with you, he says. I understand you’ve been spreading rumors around town that I was involved in your trailer fire. It’s just not true!
Why the hell are you calling my wife late at night? I ask without receiving a reply. Why the hell are you under advisement from someone if you haven’t done nothing?
When I got back home, Phebe said we needed to go to Newburgh with the baby to visit Betty. Turns out Betty had a stroke. They’re not sure whether she’ll ever be well enough to care for Mookie again. She’s paralyzed on her right side. Doesn’t look like the custody case now will be much of a fight at all.
Phebe broke out a bottle of wine tonight after the baby was put down for bed. Said St. Patrick’s Day shouldn’t pass without a little celebration. She was in an amorous mood for sure. She kept asking me to read from my novel I was writing. Apparently the story was a turn on for her.
For a moment a word picture formed in my head---Phebe Reynolds stood at the arched entry of her father’s iron forge while the morning fog lifted from the surrounding Ramapo Mountains---and then just as quickly vanished.
Maybe another night, I say, my voice trailing off, I’m in the middle of revision work.
And then I came out here to Phebe’s computer, leaving her alone in her room, and wrote this down.
Yeah, I’m one for romance story writing for sure.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
03/16/01
Phebe kept spying on me when I was writing yesterday on her computer. She kept coming in the room, looking over my shoulder at the computer screen.
Whatcha doin‘? She asks.
Oh. . . nothing. . . really, I reply.
A little bird told me you’ve been spending all Winter on the computer writing about everybody, she says.
A little bird? I’m not writing about everybody, I lie, I’m writing a novel.
A novel? really? May I read it?
No. . . you can‘t.
Why not?
Because. . . it’s not finished. . .it’s. . .in a. . .rough draft.
Well, why did I see my name on the screen?
Because the story is about your namesake, Phebe Reynolds.
Really? Historical fiction?
Yessiree!
What happens?
Oh. . .uhm. . .well. . .see. . .I take a lot of poetic license. . . It’s kinda like a Romeo and Juliet story.
Romeo and Juliet story? Really? I like that.
Phebe Reynolds in my story belongs to a family who had their Iron Forge destroyed by the British for not complying with the Iron Act. A rival forge owner with a handsome son turned them in---
And when the war breaks out Phebe’s family sides with the Patriots while the family of the rival forge owner remains loyal to the crown? Phebe asks.
That’s exactly right, my dear. Exactly right. That’s the premise I came up with. I’m still hammering out the finer details: Phebe Reynolds gaining intelligence from her secret lover to smuggle the forged links needed to create the great chain that spanned the Hudson past Claudius Smith’s men in Sterling Forest, so on and so forth.
You have to finish that so I can read it! She says excitedly, leaving me to my work. Maybe you’ll be the next Nicholas Sparks!
Okie dokie.
Little bird? Maybe that’s like a Freudian slip or something, description of Stash Skimington’s anatomy.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
03/15/01
Still no knock at the door from the police yet. Probably just a matter of time.
There’s a story in today’s paper questioning Porch Rot’s possible role in my trailer fire and his disappearance afterwards. The story raises the same questions I’ve been dealing with regarding whether Porch Rot really did himself in or just faked his death. I guess you have to wonder the same thing about Clean Phil now too. I still keep having the thought that the woman buried in the well is that anorexic girl who used to be Phil’s girlfriend--- the poet girl who kept coming around the place looking for him who then went missing. Maybe Porch Rot took her interest coming around to mean something it wasn‘t, tried to make a pass at her, something happened, and then he panicked. Or maybe she found Clean Phil out in the world, something happened that she died in his company, and then he arrived back home with her body to bury her. Porch Rot assisted in the deed, and then advised Phil to remain in hiding. Well, who the hell knows?
Phebe had the day off and insisted on going up to the prison to see Rocky with the baby. I thought I’d be OK, but I always get all kinds of anxiety going into that place. I think if I ever got sentenced to a place like that I’d probably drop dead in minutes. Rocky was pretty happy to see everyone. He said Cornelius had visited him last week. That was surprising. I guess he told Rocky despite everything that’s happened with him breaking it off with Maddy that he still thinks of Rocky as his brother-in-law. Rocky told me he thinks Cornelius made up his mind to forgo becoming a woman. He came into the prison without the Cornelia garb at least. I guess Cornelius told Rocky he wasn’t too happy slum-lording for Dr. Hardik. He said it was hard to feel like a lady dragging poor folks belongings out to the curb in drag. He said it was always easier to get rent money in burly Texan male-mode anyhow. He asked Rocky if he thought there was any room on the farm for him to return, maybe try to start up things again. Rocky told him to come see us.
Rocky said he had heard about the trailer fire and before I could even get a word out of my mouth, Phebe says, your father thinks me and Stash Skimington are having an affair, and that Stash tried to kill him to take over everything. He’s a lunatic! Rocky looked pretty astonished.
Your mother and I are going to work real hard to provide a home for your son, I manage to say. Don’t worry any troubles we might be having. We‘ll get through. We’re family.
Rocky still looked pretty astonished. Phebe looked pretty astonished at that point too.
And just then Mookie shit his diaper really loudly. It was perfect.
There’s a story in today’s paper questioning Porch Rot’s possible role in my trailer fire and his disappearance afterwards. The story raises the same questions I’ve been dealing with regarding whether Porch Rot really did himself in or just faked his death. I guess you have to wonder the same thing about Clean Phil now too. I still keep having the thought that the woman buried in the well is that anorexic girl who used to be Phil’s girlfriend--- the poet girl who kept coming around the place looking for him who then went missing. Maybe Porch Rot took her interest coming around to mean something it wasn‘t, tried to make a pass at her, something happened, and then he panicked. Or maybe she found Clean Phil out in the world, something happened that she died in his company, and then he arrived back home with her body to bury her. Porch Rot assisted in the deed, and then advised Phil to remain in hiding. Well, who the hell knows?
Phebe had the day off and insisted on going up to the prison to see Rocky with the baby. I thought I’d be OK, but I always get all kinds of anxiety going into that place. I think if I ever got sentenced to a place like that I’d probably drop dead in minutes. Rocky was pretty happy to see everyone. He said Cornelius had visited him last week. That was surprising. I guess he told Rocky despite everything that’s happened with him breaking it off with Maddy that he still thinks of Rocky as his brother-in-law. Rocky told me he thinks Cornelius made up his mind to forgo becoming a woman. He came into the prison without the Cornelia garb at least. I guess Cornelius told Rocky he wasn’t too happy slum-lording for Dr. Hardik. He said it was hard to feel like a lady dragging poor folks belongings out to the curb in drag. He said it was always easier to get rent money in burly Texan male-mode anyhow. He asked Rocky if he thought there was any room on the farm for him to return, maybe try to start up things again. Rocky told him to come see us.
Rocky said he had heard about the trailer fire and before I could even get a word out of my mouth, Phebe says, your father thinks me and Stash Skimington are having an affair, and that Stash tried to kill him to take over everything. He’s a lunatic! Rocky looked pretty astonished.
Your mother and I are going to work real hard to provide a home for your son, I manage to say. Don’t worry any troubles we might be having. We‘ll get through. We’re family.
Rocky still looked pretty astonished. Phebe looked pretty astonished at that point too.
And just then Mookie shit his diaper really loudly. It was perfect.
03/14/01
So I don’t know what Stash is up to. Maybe he’s pissed off that I’m back home with Phebe and he’s looking to make some trouble. I have to wonder whether the way Phebe responded to him for calling here late at night set him off or something. I think he must have reported the secret I knew from Porch Rot about the burial in the old well. I drove by Porch Rot’s farm yesterday and saw a bunch of police cars there. Later I drove by again and saw them excavating near the old well. In today’s paper they reported the police received an anonymous tip and the body of a woman was taken out of the ground from the old well. That’s certainly different than what Porch Rot said about Phil being put there after being found hanging in the barn. I wonder if the woman is Phil’s old girlfriend who went missing after she came around the farm asking about Phil. In any case, I guess what all this means is that mystery of what happened to Phil is still unsolved. And I thought I finally had that all settled. That Porch Rot was one crazy fucker. Or maybe I should say he is one crazy fucker. I’m not sure which to say at this point. He might be on the lam at this point. I guess that’s another mystery that still needs to be figured out. Anyway, I’ve been hanging around home taking care of Mookie for most of two days now without any knock on the door like I anticipated. I figured Stash was going to make sure I was put on the hot seat for knowing the secret about this, but so far no one has bothered me. It weird. It’s like I almost wish they’d arrive so I could get it over with. But no, the door remains silent. Everything is very, very silent. That is, until Mookie starts crying again. I told him today he shits more than a Holstein, but then I felt bad for saying that because it could be taken as racially insensitive.
03/12/01
So when Phebe got off work Saturday I called Percy and asked him to pick me up, but Phebe had a fit.
You need to go with me Monday morning to court to file for custody of Mookie. I told you before, you need to make a good show of it. You’re staying here with me from now on.
So I’ve spent two nights at home. Actually slept in the same bed as Phebe. Thought I was finally over my fear of her clubbing me to death with a lamp in the middle of the night when she gets this call at like 12:30am last night. It’s been bothering me.
Phebe says to the caller plenty annoyed, yeah, I know I left a note to call me. I didn’t mean in the middle of the night! I can’t talk now.
So we went over to the court to file for custody this morning, made a good show of it--- acted like model grandparents and everything. After we were done there Phebe took me out shopping for new stuff. Then we went to Percy’s to get my bag with this disk in it.
So now I have to get used to living somewhere new all over again.
You need to go with me Monday morning to court to file for custody of Mookie. I told you before, you need to make a good show of it. You’re staying here with me from now on.
So I’ve spent two nights at home. Actually slept in the same bed as Phebe. Thought I was finally over my fear of her clubbing me to death with a lamp in the middle of the night when she gets this call at like 12:30am last night. It’s been bothering me.
Phebe says to the caller plenty annoyed, yeah, I know I left a note to call me. I didn’t mean in the middle of the night! I can’t talk now.
So we went over to the court to file for custody this morning, made a good show of it--- acted like model grandparents and everything. After we were done there Phebe took me out shopping for new stuff. Then we went to Percy’s to get my bag with this disk in it.
So now I have to get used to living somewhere new all over again.
Monday, July 11, 2011
03/10/01
Started the day preparing to go to the Catskills to work on Cupcake’s broke-down Winnebago, but I get this call from Phebe. She said Betty was in the hospital again with another diabetes attack and I had to find a way to pick up Mookie from Newburgh and bring him back to the farm. Percy was gone already from the house so I end up asking Cupcake to change her plans for the day. So Cupcake and I head into Newburgh in her car to pick up the baby from Fauntleroy. We get the baby in the car, start back Goshen way, and we get pulled over by the police. Cupcake’s all nervous like I’ve never seen before. She gets a ticket for rolling through a stop sign.
After the police car is gone I hear her say, that was close!
I ask, what was close?
She says, oh, nothing.
We get to the farm and I’m thinking it would be best if Cupcake just drops us off. But she sort of invites herself inside, starts walking around all over the house going through all of Phebe’s shit. I’m thinking I gotta get this girl out of here. If Phebe shows up right now we’ll have disaster. We put the baby down to sleep after a feeding and Cupcake asks to check my bandages. Then she starts giving me a massage on the living room sofa. At some point her hands make their way over my ass. I had to put a stop to it and ask her to leave. She doesn’t seem too happy.
You’re not going to thank me for helping to pick up your grandson? She says as she makes her way out.
Thank you but this is just not the time or place, I say.
Time or place for what? She says. What are you talking about?
You know, I say.
No, I don’t know, she says. What?
Good fucking gracious.
After the police car is gone I hear her say, that was close!
I ask, what was close?
She says, oh, nothing.
We get to the farm and I’m thinking it would be best if Cupcake just drops us off. But she sort of invites herself inside, starts walking around all over the house going through all of Phebe’s shit. I’m thinking I gotta get this girl out of here. If Phebe shows up right now we’ll have disaster. We put the baby down to sleep after a feeding and Cupcake asks to check my bandages. Then she starts giving me a massage on the living room sofa. At some point her hands make their way over my ass. I had to put a stop to it and ask her to leave. She doesn’t seem too happy.
You’re not going to thank me for helping to pick up your grandson? She says as she makes her way out.
Thank you but this is just not the time or place, I say.
Time or place for what? She says. What are you talking about?
You know, I say.
No, I don’t know, she says. What?
Good fucking gracious.
Monday, July 4, 2011
03/09/01
So I’m at Porch Rot’s farm. Not a soul around. I find a shovel and start chiseling my way through the frost layer. Just keep digging away, removing the soil that had been used by Hiram to fill in the old well years ago. In time I’m down so deep I can’t even throw the dirt out anymore. I have to find a ladder and a bucket to carry the dirt up in. I just keep digging down deeper and deeper. No sign of Clean Phil’s remains though. Next thing I know I feel dirt raining down on my head. I look up and there’s Stash Skimington looking down on me from the rim of the well up above.
I hear you think I might have been involved in your trailer being set on fire, he says.
Well what would you think if you were in my shoes? I ask.
Stash says: I would be saying to myself ‘if this guy was behind the fire he would have had a bullet in my head already and had me half-buried too.’
Suddenly the ladder is pulled out of the well before I have the chance to grab it. I look up and the sun is shining down the well making it hard for me to see. I see what looks to be a pistol in Stash’s hand. I’m no sure what’s happening. And then, BLAM!
Somehow the bullet misses. I start climbing out of the well as dirt continues to rain down on me. I’m clinging to the rocks lining the shaft as I slowly inch my way to the top. I’m worried the whole time there’ll be another blast. But there is no blast. There’s no sign of Stash up top either. I start to wonder if this was all just a hallucination. I wonder if this was all part of a dream. . . And right then I wake up.
So I find myself going to Stash’s house again to try again to talk things over with him. But he’s still away. The note he left for Phebe was still at his door starting to yellow. This time I found a message in Phebe’s handwriting just below his handwriting. It said: Please call me.
I hear you think I might have been involved in your trailer being set on fire, he says.
Well what would you think if you were in my shoes? I ask.
Stash says: I would be saying to myself ‘if this guy was behind the fire he would have had a bullet in my head already and had me half-buried too.’
Suddenly the ladder is pulled out of the well before I have the chance to grab it. I look up and the sun is shining down the well making it hard for me to see. I see what looks to be a pistol in Stash’s hand. I’m no sure what’s happening. And then, BLAM!
Somehow the bullet misses. I start climbing out of the well as dirt continues to rain down on me. I’m clinging to the rocks lining the shaft as I slowly inch my way to the top. I’m worried the whole time there’ll be another blast. But there is no blast. There’s no sign of Stash up top either. I start to wonder if this was all just a hallucination. I wonder if this was all part of a dream. . . And right then I wake up.
So I find myself going to Stash’s house again to try again to talk things over with him. But he’s still away. The note he left for Phebe was still at his door starting to yellow. This time I found a message in Phebe’s handwriting just below his handwriting. It said: Please call me.
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