Tag: Writing Community

Wild With Possibility: teen diaries of Alysse Aallyn
Thurs. Jun 10 – 65 On a plane somewhere over Cleveland.

New diary, new paths on my journey. Stepped into a dark green taxi leaving five crying friends behind. Leaving behind the Age of Dreams and entering the Age of Doing. I’m not saying I haven’t got a past – I have – quite a past – but the future still holds all the excitement. In 45 mins I’ll be saying hello to mommy and whoever else she brings to greet me at the Cleveland International Grubport. This is a very jiggly plane and this writing could go wrong at any moment so think I’ll go back to my James Bond.

Somewhere in Lake Erie between Toledo & Vermilion – Fri. Jun 18 – 65
Just completed a week of inactivity – a century in Plumly time. I only needed the first three days, by Wed night I HAD A FIT OF THE WOLLIES. I’m either hysterically joyous or wretchedly depressed – which is the real me? Sobbed myself to sleep in sheer frustration. Daddy asked me if I wanted to go on the Mills Race so I said yes. He’s trying to make up for the time he got angry & said I didn’t care a goddam about anything. I’m taking the boat to Toledo (won’t be in the race). Dad dragged me out of bed after 5 hrs sleep 8:45. Ragged madras shorts & pink shirt & yellow beach bag, rubber bands in my hair, crammed into the Monza with crew member & his family. We were so packed in crew member kept shifting my knee. (Bill Capitan.)
```
Stocky, amiable, running to fat (his face looks like a pudding) he is a prof of photog at the college. His wife plain, cheerful, cajoling 2 children. They were talking about last Wed’s race – Dad won! Dad said if he’d fallen in Dad would have kept going so it was a good thing he didn’t fall in. We stopped to lay in supplies of beer & vermouth. Goodbye to wife & kids, out towards channel by 10 Am. Me at helm (boat fought like spoiled child) and I fought back. Sails up, I was relieved (Bill’s no good as helmsman either.) 

Dad said between the two of us we were wandering all over the damn lake. We had lunch at 12:30 – to amuse myself I cleaned the galley even the medieval cubbyholes. Got to improve my pater’s opinion of me!  Read all afternoon –finished Flight of the Falcon started Payne’ s Gold of Troy. Falcon isn’t so good- I don’t like its overall feel. Gold more interesting though written in the passive style. Break for pretzels & coffee.

 Dad whispered “Bill thinks you’re the sweetest girl.” Aww. Dad then said, “Except when you’re being obstreperous.” We were outside the firing range at 4 had to stop & tether to the Fine Feather (beautiful yawl- very good looking boy on board) to let them finish and let us through.  We were a flotilla. Our wind failed, we had to motor though the range. (8 knots/hr!)  I took the helm for 2 hrs that was easier.  Water cool and smooth as glass. Bill excited about the herons, Dad playing w/chart & slide rule. 

The Toledo LightHouse is a Byzantine castle – I hope to build my own someday. It’s 20 to 9 – we’ll be in by 9:30. We fly four flags – Vermilion Boat Club, Great Lakes, Italy & France (Dad gave his Greek one to the Lagoon Boat Club.) 
```
Thurs. June 24 – 65
Dinner at yacht club. Buffet, and the meat was terrible! Dad said it was “highway robbery” but they were having a party, celebrating start of the Mills. Dad promised I can race someday.
```
Back at the boat Don Lennartson showed up with the hood jenny (the one Dad sent to be repaired.) He’s the one taking me home – we left at midnight. Don & I exchanged civilized pleasantries, then fell silent. We stopped at a gas station and I did make him laugh. He thought I was a drama major and he was too. He suggested books by Lawrence Durrell I ought to read, then we had a good long talk. I arrived home happy & sleepy. Mom awake – chatted with her & the hamsters then went to bed. Waked in the AM by Avril and Genevieve – we are driving into Cleveland – hooray!  We played the radio and were very sisterly. Mom forgot to give G the map so we got lost. We went to Mus of Art – I was sorry we would eat there because I hate the food. Poor sandwich, bad jello. We met Mom & her head start program at the museum. I love the Egyptian room – we feel the same about cats. Also the Modiglianis. Mom met us at 2:30 and took us shopping – I begged off to sleep in the car. Avril got lots of beautiful clothes and I was madly jealous. Went to a bookstore after that and I got a history of the silent screen. More shopping – I coaxed an orange dress out of Mumlet. Sirloin steaks with onion rings at Clark’s then thundered merrily home.

Sun was Father’s Day. Everyone forgot except me. G and I drove up with Mrs Capitain to bring boat back from Toledo with Daddy. She is a very bad driver. It was agony.  We were very late. Dad, G, Don & I shoved off.  Solid breeze made getting out of the channel a nightmare. Dad told a Satchelpuss story that made us all laugh. Poor Don got seasick, I felt wonderful. 
```
Tues. July 6 – 65
Lovely weekend on boat with Clarice (Genevieve’s friend) Mom, Dad, and Genevieve. Dinner at the Twine House (shishkabob.) Parfait for dessert! Poor Clarice is so fat Dad thinks she should be hospitalized. Men are always that way about fat. She’s lovely – makes a point of being sure I’m “in” instead of trying to get rid of me (like G). I don’t want to be like G, I enjoy being different. This is the reason for Your existence, diary. I’m the “wondergirl” as G says.
```
None of this fat problem can be Clarice’s fault, she is a really confident person. It’s no act. My matchstick confidence is always going CRASH!  I only feel “good” when I’m really done up. G. is writing in her diary too! Us diary keepers must stick together. “How long have you had one?”
```
“Quite awhile.”
“I didn’t know!”
“I don’t advertise it like you do.”
It’s probably about Me! Mine’s about her!

Sun. July 11 – 65
The stage is always stagey but movies are personal. They are at the same time a thought, a dream, or something happening outside your window. Hollywood doesn’t give people credit for their intelligence. The thrill of thought is a lot more potent than identification with some sex-goddess. Should I graduate from Plumly and storm RADA? I can only hope I have the talent.

1 am Fri July 23, 65
Can’t sleep. Tried exercising, counting things, pretending, even acting! Acting like I’m sleeping! “Alysse, my Girl,” I said to Me, “What you need is a Good Think.” So here I am. We have guests, so I’m in a sleeping bag on the floor. I’m reduced to a flashlight. It was an evening of Unexpected Phone Calls. Nightie…root beer…TV. RING! I jump up, knock over a table.
“Hello?”
‘Nyello. Nye have a collect call for Anyone from Miss Merrill Aallyn. Will you accept?”
“Sure thing!” I say, “Hi, Muff!”
“Get everyone on the line!” demands Merrill.
“I’m the only one here,” I apologize.
“But I sent a LETTER that I would call TONITE!”
“Well…” Bzzz. Cut off. Sure enough – RING!
“H’lo?”
“DID YOU HANG UP?”
“NO. DID YOU?” (Hard to hear. We were having a storm.)
“Let’s have some female gossip. You know Ted?”
“Yeeesss…” (her latest guy.)
“Well, you have to promise not to tell anyone BUT TED AND I ARE GETTING MARRIED!!”
I screech jubilantly. Bzzz.
I wait impatiently. RI-
“Merrill, I’m so excited!”
“YOU DO THAT ONCE MORE…”
“Look, it isn’t me! I swear! When? Where? This is fabulous! My own sister!”
“Sssh. I thought you didn’t LIKE Ted.”
I DID say that. “Well, if he wants to marry you he can’t be all bad,” I say guiltily.
“Promise you won’t tell. Mom & Dad don’t like him either.”
“Married!” I couldn’t get over it. “Wow!”
“Next year,” says Merrill glumly.
“Well, don’t get married in June like everyone else does. When will you tell them?”
“I’ll tell them SOMETIME.” Now SHE sounded guilty! “I won’t let you be a bridesmaid if you tell anybody!”
“OK, Ok.”
“Ted’s parents keep sending us these articles on premarital sex. They’re giving us ideas.”
“So, have you premaritally sexed him yet?” I was WILD!
“Yes. Once.”
This was something! Merrill not a virgin? I felt separated by the gulf of human experience making her so changed. “What was it like?”
“It was a lot of work. He had a towel with a bulls’ eye and I had to lie down on the target. There’s too much pressure! You want to get it over with.”
I was scared to ask if she loved him – she HAS to say yes! Talk about pressure! But who could love Ted?
“Did it hurt?”
“I have to hang up now.”
“Oh Merrill, it’s wonderful to hear from you, I’m so glad to hear about you & Ted! I’ll write a lot, I promise!”
Poor girl! I romantically resolved to be her champion. RING!
“HELLO?”
“Hi. Is Genevieve there?”
“Nope. Sailing.”
“Is this Avril?”
“Nope. Alysse. Who’s this?”
“Bill Laughlin. You’re the one I REALLY wanted to see! Want to drive out and get a Coke?”
“Are you serious!” I foresee a great future in the Diplomatic Corps.
“Sure! What’s the matter? Going steady?”
“Yeah, with Billy Stephens. I babysit for him.”
“How old is he?”
“About six.”
“He won’t mind one coke.”
“Genevieve might not like it.”
“Genevieve’s just a kid! You’re the one I want!” (Amazing how good this feels.)
“I need to get ready.”
“Are you in your nightgown?”
“Yeah, but I can change.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll be right over.”
This guy was hilarious! CLICK.
Anyway, I put on a dress. I wrote a note – “Bill Laughlin taking me out to pump me about Genevieve. Be right back.”
```
That ought to cover it! Bill at the door. We drove a gold Mustang with black leather. Gorgeous car. (He said it was his brother’s.) Went to the Dairy Queen, got small cokes & talked. It was a good conversation. I liked the way he tried to match my moods, serious to joking all at once. I said I’d been wanting this sign Youth Haven and he offered to get it for me but it was too high up. I showed him the mogul on the way to Kretchmar’s – he gunned it and we soared over it. Great fun. He never mentioned Genevieve at all!  Until in the driveway he said, “Do you think Jenny will go out with me Fri?”
```
I said, “Sure, why not?”
“Well. We had words.”
“A fight?” This was exciting!
“Something like that. Sort of “you can forget about Friday.”
“Uhoh. She’s not a big mind-changer. But you should ask.”
And don’t mention ME!
“If she won’t, will you? I’ve already got the tickets.” Tactless.
“I’m already going with Avril. Better ask Genevieve. Really.”
No matter how second-hand I obviously was, I was flattered! Thank you, G’Bye, slam! He’s good looking and fun, I would definitely date him if Genevieve doesn’t want him.
“Of course I’ll go,” she said condescendingly.

LAKE ERIE AGAIN – Sunday July 25-1965
One more day till drama camp! Sometimes I get so excited I want to jump up in the air screaming EEEEEEE! Reading DuMaurier’s Glassblowers I just learned something I already half-knew – “There is no such thing as time.” It’s what you want to do with it! A beautiful truth. The tree we climb may be cut down but the past is never gone. I can be any age I have ever been before.
June 21, 2023
Wild With Possibility: teen diaries of Alysse Aallyn
Friday, May 28 1965

I’m in a paper-wasting mood. I feel like joining some of the great paper-wasters of all time, such as the authors of The Spy, The Deerslayer and the Old Curiosity Shop got nothing on me as I natter on endlessly and speculate about my life. That’s all this school really teaches you – the Art of Hedging. Teachers love it. When what you really want to do is just give way to violent gusts of passionate hatred. My goal as a writer is to slowly seduce my readers into a hypnotic state from which they only gradually awaken wondering what time it is with numbed sensibilities and no memory of what has transpired. Heh heh.

Saturday, May 29, 1965
Diagnosis: summer sickness. The patient must get up, put on a gypsy dress, minimum of makeup and sit calmly in a bus for one hour. Then the patient boards a plane, cracks a book and rides to her destination, which is ANYWHERE NOT HERE. That’s if the patient is not too sick to make it through finals. If only I hadn’t used up my meal pers I could go into King of Prussia for shopping and make whoopee. But sometimes its fun to do something illegal. I could get someone to check me off at lunch. Of course I’m already in trouble for shiking into other people’s rooms at night. And then there’s the Hitchhiking Episode –which apparently I’m never going to be able to forget. The only people, apparently, who stop for hitchhikers are:

1.Maniacs
2.Little old ladies who want to give you a lecture and then drive recklessly
3.Perverts – who travel in packs
4.Escaped convicts who just stole this car and can’t figure out how to work the damned thing.

All the escaped convicts I’ve ever known were deeply courteous people, but I guess I just have the inner light a little more than SOME people I could mention.

Friday, June 4, 1965
Beales invited me to Casper the Grasper’s (his real name is Bad Karl) for tea. He’s the elderly pornographer who has apparently fastened on our school for some reason it wouldn’t take a fortuneteller to figure out and either throws or goes to all the parties. When I was in the Shakespeare play I was standing right on the edge of the stage, emoting away, and then I saw him in the front row staring at me through binoculars. I mean, the man was looking down my pores. I forgot every line in that one moment. Debacle. However he has a fabulous house and apparently it’s a great honor to be invited there. So of course I’m curious.
```
For a person who wants to be an actress and a writer I’m not very observant. I’m always in such a fog I’m the last person in the world to know what’s going on. Guess who turned out to be also going - sans date, of course. Rich!  And I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he still has feelings for me. Can a girl and a boy just be friends? Now I’ve got Beales and Krissy’s got Crow and Rich’s got nobody, which is no one’s fault but his own. 

Many lonely midnight violin solos at Boy’s End.  So I have to admit – I hate to admit – I tortured him a bit. The tormented must torture back. Beales was not pleased. But the sense of power does go to your head.  Actually I’m tempted to break up with Beales just because of this awful book he gave me.  He said it was the best book he ever read, and it turned out to be a real stinker – the meaning of which, apparently, is that nothing has any meaning. The girl treats the guy horribly and he gets back at her through some sci fi device that freezes her. I’m sorry I now know anything about the inside of Beales’ head.  It’s a horrible place. I’ll just stick with his lips, thank you.

So I should probably write about Casper’s. Casper has a wife but they have separate rooms. (I know because I snooped.)  So do Beales’ parents, I was shocked to discover. Maybe this is more common than I knew. (His parents worry Plumly is too liberal. If they only knew. What they really mean is its co-ed, which is undeniable, and there’s dating, which is a fact, and that whenever we get the chance we all pounce on each other like randy bunnies.  Which does happen occasionally.  But the teachers and the kitchen staff are the dangerous ones if you stay away from them you’re Ok. ) Beales says “everyone knows”  the way to kill sex is to get married. (This from a guy who was carded when he tried to order a crème de menthe parfait.) I’m not taking sex advice from a virgin who is afraid of trees and an incredibly bad canoeist. My father embarrassed his children horribly all across Europe by refusing to take single bedded rooms for him and Mom.  If they didn’t have a double, no matter if it was almost midnight, we had to look for another place.  But you see I’m having trouble describing Bad Karl’s place. What kind of a writer always talks about herself?

Ok. It smells bad.  That’s number one. You can’t put your finger on it. Whenever my mom smells something like that she says its drains, so that might be it. Casper can’t see and his wife can’t hear and they probably can’t smell, either. When one sense goes, the others can’t be far behind. The house is full of dusty books and bizarre engravings.  Bad Karl’s favorite kind of books are called Belles Lettres - the only category I’ve never heard of.  I’m sure the wall of books swivels around revealing a dank staircase going down down down if you press on it just right but the smell was too bad to remain in the house long. We spent most of our time in the rose-garden – they have beautiful roses – apparently Mrs. Grasper is a rosarian, which I thought, was either a religion or a men’s club. It may be that what’s bad news for drains is good news for roses.  The food was fabulous – Napoleons have always been my favorite – and although they had boring tea they had flavored coffees too. Conversation was a bit difficult – Beales mentioned his paper on euthanasia and we got a 20-minute discourse on their trip to China in the 1920’s so I think Mrs. Grasper thought he said Youth in Asia.  If it hadn’t been a blazingly hot, sunny afternoon they would have forced us to watch a slideshow. I got to listen to a description of Bad Casper’s alopecia, which – trust me – is not a plant. Then at the end each girl (there were three of us there and five guys) got to cut a rose.  

Of course we didn’t know that Casper was going to pin it on us. Here he comes at me,  
```
quivering hands holding a large pin and his eyes fixed on my bosom and Beales doing not one thing to protect me. Even Rich got into the act trying to hold my dress away from my skin so I wouldn’t get “pricked”. I’m telling you it was dangerous. And of course I chose a hugely overblown flower on its last gasp that was dead by nightfall. Like my respect for Beales, who tries to claim that Casper, who holds “sexuality seminars” at his house for senior boys is anything other than a dirty old man. And I mean dirty in all senses of the word. He’s given up ever changing his pants, for example. Prof. Grasper’s favorite word is “juice”. You wouldn’t want to catch whatever he’s got.
```
It’s a good thing I’m going to camp. Preston has written me a letter wanting me to go to Valley Forge with him. Looks like I’ll have to discipline him somehow – if possible. 
```
Monday, June 7, 1965
I was in the Tower (toilet) studying and I overheard quite an episode. Miss Lissome was talking to this girl who apparently slashed herself with a razor over another girl. Miss Lissome was very understanding – a little too understanding, if you ask me. This is probably why Beales’ parents think the school is too liberal, because they hide stuff like this. I kept completely quiet and they didn’t know I was there. Apparently they don’t think she needed stitches, but I never got to see her because she went home next day. That’s one way to get out of exams. So far I got a 95 in Bible, (I’m an expert on the Zealots if I do say so myself) a 98 in English (Steinbeck, Steinbeck, Steinbeck – the only A in the class) and I’m fourth from the bottom in Math (sigh). Krissy and I were in Girls’ Doubles and I came in second! Right now “Baby the Rain must Fall” is playing on the radio and I’m getting ready for the freshman-sophomore class party. Gotta go!
June 20, 2023

Wild With Possibility: the teen diaries of Alysse Aallyn

Plumly School – THURSDAY, APRIL 8, 1965

Back at school – good to be back. Sunday in Washington we went to the Smithsonian and saw the Air Force and Space exhibits. They had Lindbergh’s and Wright’s first planes. Hard to believe anyone ever had the nerve to jump off a cliff in one of these plywood gliders. We also saw a spaceship and the Foucault pendulum. It always goes in a straight line but the earth is turning under it. Cool. Lots of people say the concept of space makes them feel small – it doesn’t have that effect on me. It makes me feel big to be a member of such an important species, even when I’m practically failing math. Attempting to explain this idea to Genevieve got me nicknamed “The Wonder Girl”. She is too sarcastic.

We saw the First Ladies’ inaugural dresses – the one I wanted was Abigail Van Buren’s.  Daddy didn’t like the exhibit. He kept saying, “Boy, she was one big babe!” We all agreed Bess Truman’s was the absolute worst.

Genevieve called a friend from Plumly and we went on a double date (he isn’t really her boyfriend.) We got to drive around Washington in a convertible, and went to see The World of Henry Orient, which we thought, was supposed to be funny but was actually sad. Genevieve had to leave because she was bawling uncontrollably but apparently Jim didn’t mind because he wanted to be alone with her anyway. I didn’t mind my date, Dick.  He was all right. When we got back to the car we discovered someone had blocked us in and we had to drive several hundred yards on the sidewalk.  Fortunately there were no cops around. It was really late at that point and we had to get back to the Fairfax so we could wake up early and go to Plumly next morning.  Plumly!  How I’ve missed you!

THURSDAY, APRIL 15, 1965
You probably thought I was dead it’s been so long since I’ve written. No such luck. Still imprisoned in this mortal coil. Phil broke up with me for no reason at all, and the boys who have asked me out since then are hardly a promising lot. Barry I turned down on principle (I don’t want to be seen with him) and Jed worries me. He’s just weird and I don’t think it’s a good weird. He’s like those guys who get arrested for shooting a lot of strangers. He’s obsessed with the military, which does not bode well. I can’t figure out why Phil broke up with me, although he said it wasn’t me. At least I don’t have to worry about his hair any more. He used to style it into a kind of dog-doo pile on his head and I just couldn’t get him to stop. It’s a shame when a girl has so little effect on a guy.

Krissy and I aren’t speaking because we both want the same boy and at the Stone House pep rally last night it looked like I had him (we were having a balloon fight.)  Richard Johnson is English, he’s very good looking  (an especially good body, very manly) and he keeps coming to talk to me at my workjob, but he doesn’t ask me out so I think I’m going to have to sacrifice him to keep the peace on the home front.  He’s making me do too much work.  Some guys at Boys End don’t believe in dating – mostly the intellectuals – that makes it very hard. They want us to just sort of come together by suction, like amoebas.  Thank God for the jocks.  They like to know what the game is and the rules are – if it wasn’t for them we would fall into chaos. He also doesn’t send KOBS  and my parents have been making noises like I’m too young to go to the Junior/Senior.  So it’s probably hopeless anyway. I’ll have to do what all the other lovestruck idiots do - concentrate on English Lit.

MONDAY APRIL 19, 1965
Up to the minute report: I got a 91 in English History, which was a great relief. I don’t mean to sound conceited, but I’m the smartest one in that class (and I’m including the English teacher.) I got 100 in English grammar, which is truly amazing because I usually don’t do well in courses I have a serious philosophical beef with. (Much of English grammar is just plain ridiculous.)

I know you want to know how the Rich race is going. Well, it’s a disaster. The more distant I get with Rich the more interested he gets. Not enough to ask me out, just incessant hanging around. Krissy was asked to the Junior/Senior by Crow the sumo wrestler and she’s going with him because he’s a date. He pays her a lot of attention, sending her balloons, flowers, cards and good FOOD with which you could buy anything – I mean literally anything – at this school. It’s a tragic commentary on life in this mausoleum that a steady supply of English toffee ice cream could enslave the hardiest.

Still, Krissy refuses to give up on Rich but she doesn’t have a chance – I can see that now that I know him. She dimples up, talks baby talk and teases him in a too-obvious way. He’s very polite but there’s a distinct danger that she’ll get thrown up on if she keeps this up. I’ve discovered that Rich loves sailing. Obviously I have an edge in this department. Poor Krissy doesn’t know a stanchion from a stallion. We were both talking to him after dinner last night and I discovered she’s been sending him KOBs with bubble gum in them – was I surprised! I think she’s making herself cheap and I’ve half a mind to tell her so. I must say I was looking goddess like in white Levis and a red shell on my way to checkout. Krissy, alas, looked like the fifth Beatle. This Carnaby Street thing is not working for her.

This afternoon he was hanging around the pay phones when I went to call Mom and Dad. He always acts like he was waiting for me, but I’m starting to think it could just be an act. He was holding his violin because he was supposed to be having a lesson but for some reason it didn’t happen. He played for me. I asked him why he doesn’t join orchestra but he said they were too brassy. He told me about how he’s been suspended from two schools (he never told Krissy this but I’m not surprised – Plumly is Last Chance Gulch for far too many persons of the male persuasion. He also told me he has a crush on his Big Sister (it’s Sydney Close) so not too surprising but still tactless of him to discuss it in front of me - another strike against him. As we were separating he took the red light bulb out of the exit sign and gave it to me as a kind of memento. I thought it was sort of cute but I guess I can see why he keeps getting suspended from places.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 12, 1965
Krissy’s on a meal per and I’m skipping checkout which makes a deten but I’ve really let my work pile up so I’m just going to work through and catch up. Starting any minute now – soon as I finish this. My pictures came today – I can’t help wishing I didn’t look like that. One of my eyes is bigger than the other, my nose is crooked and I have a lopsided smile like an alligator. Still I was able to send one to Preston Pugh, he’s been begging me. I have to admit I am encouraging him because there’s a lot of status in getting mail and I was also worried I wouldn’t have a date to the Tennis Court dance and I would have to import him. (I would die rather than make the first move with that sly sunuva Rich.) Fortunately neither of these horrible eventualities came to pass – the junior class has just discovered I’m alive and four boys have been asking me out steadily. Still the most promising candidate is Beales – he’s going to be class president next year – senior class – so that’s cool. He’s clever and funny but somewhat lacking in the height department.

Little does he know I ‘m attracted to big blonds with hairless chests (sigh.) Beales is very hairy – he’s a tennis player and all this black hair is sprouting every which way out from under his whites. When I told Rich I was going to the tennis court dance with Beales I was hoping for a little jealousy but instead he told me Beales has the biggest you know what on campus. I thought that was an odd remark and it makes me wonder a lot more about Rich than about Beales. (Krissy can have him. She may discover she’s bitten off a mouthful of cotton candy – precisely nothing.) Still, judging from slow dances with Beales, I think he may be right. I really like Beales and he seems to be totally smitten with me (he always calls me “The Lady Alysse”) but I can’t wear really high heels with him. Tonight was a Turnabout dance - late dating at the Cabin. Beales seemed to think I should ask him – so I did – and now we’re a Couple and nobody will ask em anywhere unless we have a Public Break Up. Oh well. Fun so far.

I am writing a book report on The Way to the Lantern for French History – it is about an actor who said he takes comfort from history, that people were born, made love and died. I wish he hadn’t put the dying part immediately after the making love part – this is the kind of thing that worries us virgins. For fun I am reading a life of Fanny Kemble. She is a very interesting person although I find her comments on theatre and acting pretty hard to take. For a Victorian she was pretty wild – always knee deep in rushing brooks, climbing lofty crags and throwing herself full length on the hearthrug. Very reminiscent of You Know Who.

When she was an old lady toting up the experiences of wonder and joy that had been hers I got depressed trying to add up mine. Sadly few. Then I remembered I’m only fifteen, not eighty and I cheered right up. Some time left. Must remember to live abundantly with a fiery heart so that I have some youthful glory too to warm me in my old age. Fifteen minutes to midnight and the tears are still drying on my cheeks. I say goodbye to childhood.

Thursday, May 13, 1965
Class pictures. I call mine Lady Horseface (horseface with a flip) but Beales liked it so much he bought a frame for it. On the other hand Beales’ picture makes him look like a character in Wind and the Willows. I guess it’s all that hair. At 7:15 while I was under the hairdryer I got a call from my parents. I was accepted into theatre camp! I cried and told everyone. Even Krissy said she was happy for me – probably because I gave up Rich “The Impossible Dream”. I’ve been happy ever since – hard to contemplate a summer in Brockton.

When I’m this happy it’s hard to write – I feel like an overgrown exclamation point. That’s probably why all great writers were miserable human beings.

Sunday, May 16, 1965
I’ve got my lamp on even though it’s lights out so I’ll probably get caught but I’m too excited to mess around with that cheap plastic flashlight. Besides, Krissy is up and messing around with her scrapbook — she flew home this weekend for her home Junior Senior. My parents would NEVER do that. Fortunately the Rez sounds like the German army whenever she makes a move – we’ll probably hear her coming. Krissy bought me an ice cream cone so I carried her luggage down to the racing shed which is where you catch the van. She said the school doesn’t look so bad when you’re leaving it. She sounded positively nostalgic. I think it looks like a Victorian insane asylum at the best of times. You can almost see the place where the Home for Incurables sign used to be. I was afraid all this nostalgia meant she was bound to be killed in a plane crash, but no such luck. I still have to share a room. When Heidi Weiss’ roommate was in a car accident they let her use the infirmary bathroom which is the only place where you can take baths. I heard she was furious when her roommate came home and now they’re not speaking.

Saturday night was Camp Suppers. As usual the freshman girls were in every room but their own trying to find out what everyone else was going to wear.

“I’m wearing white jeans and a red shell.”
“I’m wearing my new green shorts.”
“I’d wear shorts except they’re madras and they’re ripped.”

It’s the little things like this that make us different from the animals. Fortunately for me (if not for Beales) I don’t care whether I’m in style or not. I’m a trendsetter, rather than a follower. I wore my sweatshirt inside out because it has a really interesting pattern on the other side.

“Camp Suppers” is basically a cookout down at the lake. I had three hamburgers and a hotdog but it’s not as much as it sounds like. They stamp on the meat to get it as flat as possible and then they cut it with cookie cutters. Really! I’ve seen it! Then there was oatmeal with raisin cookies and brownies and in and out canoe races. Once you’re out of a canoe it’s really hard to get back in. Beales was angry at me because I was laughing so hard we didn’t win. He says we didn’t win because I couldn’t get into the canoe because I was laughing and I think we didn’t win because he couldn’t get into the canoe because he was angry.

This is why when summer comes I will just drift elegantly away. Men! Beales is too much work – dating him is like taking an extra class. Even Kip is starting to look good. Beales thinks he’s got me figured out (he’s a straight A student so he thinks he’s smart) but that’s my protection - like an armadillo shell or porcupine quills - I make myself deceptively simple. I got even with Beales by challenging him to a tree-climbing contest. Trees love me. I couldn’t fall from a tree if I tried.

Beales was afraid and he didn’t want me to know he was afraid. Tree-climbing is just not his sport (I’ve seen him throw discus with those huge hairy arms.) But when we got to the top I made it worth his while - we made out. I have a psychic sense of when someone is going to kiss me. Beales turns out to be a shy but impassioned kisser – he kisses all over my face. You don’t have to worry how far a boy is going to go if you’re in a tree, so I could really give myself to the experience. We didn’t go in till a quarter after ten and I spent the rest of the night in deep thought. Maybe Beales is bearable after all.

June 19, 2023

Wild With Possibility: the teen diaries of Alysse Aallyn

Thurs Oct 8, 64

Got a “social warning” for “lights out” with a boy! It was only six o’clock for heaven’s sake! I have much to learn about the Art of Shiking. Things are rough for the Prisoners of the Tower. We were talking about hobbies. His is photography. I said mine is philosophy. Social philosophy. Like why people are so very, very strange.

Also got a warning for not wearing a “covering” on my curlers in the upstairs Girls’ End Hall!  What is this, Moulay Idris? What a place!

Favorite song this week – “I like it” by Gerry & the Pacemakers.

“I like it! I like it!
I like the way you run your fingers through my hair…”
Exactly.

Doggerel for English:

“To laugh and love and run and sing
Are gifts beyond all price.
And when I die for die I will
I’ll feel no pain or strife.
It is enough for me to know I’ve sipped the wine of life!
In a way I’ll always live
In all I’ve loved and seen
The whirling whiteness of the snow
The emerald spring of green.
A rock that’s round and hard and smooth
The restless roaring sea
The pale blank beauty of the moon
All have a piece of me.
So I can die without a qualm
‘Cause death is never mean.
Dying too is part of life –
Remember – dirt is clean!

Eng teacher gave me a B MINUS and asked me to write it again without rhyme!  But since it’s in the past, why would I?  Life rushes on, Master Gwill! Better get moving!
I recited it at the dinner table (maybe it is more of a recitation piece) and – Miss Womrath liked it so much she gave me her notebook from a Trip to France in 18 BC.  It is full of sketches of fishermen and birds – the poems are unbelievably bad. There are a surprising number of breasts – even men had breasts in those days!  Maybe she is a nympho-lesbo.

TUESDAY, MARCH 30, 1965 – Brockton, Ohio

Tonight Mom and Genevieve and Avril and I went to a concert at Avril’s school – my old school. It was like walking smack into the past—a nightmare come to life. Old Miss Quinn came lurching toward us like Boris Karloff in the Mummy – she was even trailing some sort of torn drapery. I stared disbelieving at the puniness of the drinking fountain –more like an animal watering device than any kind of implement to be used by human beings – was I EVER that small? The halls were narrow and grimy but I remember them in my dreams as vast and spacious with the edges seeming to drop away like unmapped territory. The children’s faces even seemed familiar – as if I grew up and they didn’t – maybe children’s faces are indistinguishable.

 The Auditorium was pathetic.  It had a tiny stage – made of wretched splintered boards. I felt my rear end itch in memory.  I imagined myself, old and famous, donating  decent drapes to replace those ratty dust catchers. But probably it would be better to deny any association with this place. Of course Avril performed horribly. Years of relentless babying have softened that poor child’s brain.  

Genevieve and I walked home so as to avoid the reception afterwards.  I don’t recall my mother going to a single one of my concerts – and Genevieve doesn’t remember it either. This mothering thing is something she’s only recently discovered – twenty years into the job.  Oh well.  

As  Genevieve says, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. When we got home we watched The Man from Uncle, (naturally Avril gets a TV!) then  I worked on my novel about teenage stardom while Genevieve set her hair with beer cans. That’s because we were going to the movies - the second showing of 36 Hours and she might see someone. Genevieve had already seen it and couldn’t help giving me a running commentary. I need all the help I can get in war movies. My favorite part was when Pike and Anna were in the hole and  the German soldier, looking in sees a nest of baby birds instead  of them and whistles to the birds. I thought it was very mature of the scriptwriter to resist the urge to have him murder the baby birds.

When I got home Daddy called me into the study where he had an application for summer theatre camp! I can go! Off to sleep in a haze of bliss.

Wednesday, March 31, 1965
Sure is hellish trying to write in a car. It’s 4:12 pm and we’re in the Shenandoah Valley. So far we’ve traveled through five states. I have a feeling this is going to be a short entry because I’m feeling carsick. Avril has been carsick twice already.

We got up at nine and left at nine thirty. Call last night to Phil - saying goodbye was rather a greasy experience. I wish he had a sort of brake control. I promised him I would write.  He will probably be back at school by the time I return. 

The countryside is all the same, dark woods, yellow grass and ridiculous road signs. We had lunch in a bone-chilling wind at 12:30 and now I’m starving again. We ate at Howard Johnson’s and Dad embarrassed us about the food. He always complains but I like the clams. Mom’s scarf blew out of the window so we are turning back to get it.

FRIDAY APRIL 2, 1965
At last a moment! We have really been having fun. We ended up in Front Royal Virginia the last time I wrote you at The Colonial Motor Court. Dad said it was about as colonial as a TV dinner. We went to see Goldfinger after dinner and Dad pretended to be Oddjob in the parking lot. Mom was rigid and disapproving but whether of murderous Oddjob or boisterous Pussy Galore I couldn’t say.

Next day we went to Monticello. I could spend a lifetime there! We made it to Williamsburg by late afternoon and went straight to the Candlelight Concert at the Governor’s Palace. Concert mediocre.  Then we went to the Sheraton, which was a pretty cool place except the pool is shut.  

We ate at Chowney’s and I had Brunswick stew and apple pie.  Dad rousted us out at an ungodly hour so we could see all of Williamsburg.  First place we saw was Bruton Parish where I liked the graveyard.  I found a small stone with just the initials B.S. on it. That’s the way to go – keep everyone guessing.  Then we saw the George Wythe House. Rough way to live.  I preferred the Palace, where we got lost in the maze. I said I was sure I had been an aristocrat I in an earlier life and Dad said everyone thinks that.  I found the middle of the maze all by myself, but it began to rain and so we ducked into the Brush-Everard house.  We had lunch at Christiana Campbell’s.  I had potpie and stoked myself quite full. After lunch we hit the shops: I bought a blank book, a thistle seal (Mary Queen of Scots) and a gingerbread man.  I was so sleepy I slept in the car on the way to Washington, but I woke up when we got to our hotel, the Fairfax.

The Fairfax is a rather doubtful looking place – Dad has a tendency to choose hotels that look like the owner just died. Our rooms are on the eighth floor. We went to dinner at an Italian place called Nino’s. The food was good, but you can get better pizza at Benet’s. We drove around after dinner and Dad said this is the second most beautiful American city (after San Francisco.) Mom said its No. 1. All I could see was huge monuments looming at me through the gloaming.

SATURDAY, APRIL 3, 1965
I was rudely awakened by someone trying to strangle me – it was Daddy. And yet nobody’s allowed to make noise while he’s trying to sleep – just one of the many inequities between parents and kids. Genevieve called me a sloth and I reminded her that it takes a sloth three hours to drown because of their generally superior construction. They probably experience things more deeply too. I know I was having a wonderful dream, I just can’t remember what it was. It was six a.m. – earlier than I get up at school. We drove around looking for somewhere to eat, finally stopping at the Ambassador where I had strawberries and coffee. (You’ve gotta start sometime.)
We decided to climb the Washington monument but a surprise awaited us: to be exact, a line that stretched as far as the eye could see, comprising:
Girl scouts
Brownies
Old ladies
Fat ladies
Dead ladies
Dead girl scouts
Hoboes hired to stand in line for somebody smarter.

What to do? Fortunately Dad decided to pretend to be a tour guide and just walked in front, talking and waving his arms, something about how the building was built of pennies collected by Brownies and some statue, covered with pigeon poo, was a memorial to a man who invented a way of cleaning pigeon poo off statues. At one point we had at least thirty people in our group – everyone was riveted. Of course all that climbing was pointless and not worthwhile. Genevieve said the monument looked like a giant planeria, which is a repulsive image.

Other deathless thoughts from the day’s experience: The White House does not look like it would be fun to live in. I failed to catch a glimpse of Luci Baines who has probably gratefully gone somewhere else. Dad made us stand in front of the Treasury Building for what seemed like an eternity (“because we owe them so much money”) and then we went to see our Congressman. Although he is a Republican he seemed like a good fellow. Daddy called him Chuck and he talked to us for quite awhile as if he wasn’t really busy. He gave us passes to the next session of the 89th Congress which I thought was nice until Dad pointed out that we’re paying for everything. So we trudged over to the Capitol. I liked the classy pillars and noticed the meander design everywhere (matching my sweater – which my mother knit while I studied the Greeks.) I also liked the chandeliers. They have a lot of them. There was one hall where each state had put two statues of famous men – one of ours was Garfield (who I’ve heard of) and the other one was Allen (who nobody’s heard of.) The tour guy said Garfield’s assassin is one of the Capitol ghosts and the guards see him occasionally. The best statue was Will Rogers.

Then we went to see the Supreme Court. I wish they had been in session but they weren’t so I actually saw more of the ladies’ john. There were a lot more steps. I was beginning to get a rubbery sensation in the knees.

We went out to lunch at Hogate’s where I had crab imperial and Dad lost his air travel card. Then we drove to the Pentagon because Daddy wanted to see it. Not interesting. We went to Arlington, which was very depressing. You wouldn’t want to live your whole life just so you could be seventh from the end in the thirty-ninth row of Section A.

The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was not as impressive as the one in France. Daddy was angry at us for giggling but I don’t think it was the kind of place to make you want to be quiet. The French know how to do these things right. I was taken out of my mood by the Jefferson Memorial. It’s adorable. I would like one in my yard. I think it’s my favorite thing I’ve seen. “I have sworn on the Altar of God Eternal Hostility Against Every Form of Tyranny over the Mind of Man.” Wonder what he would have said if they added “woman” to that.

Back at the hotel Avril and I hung out in her room, Genevieve went shopping and Mom and Dad went to an art museum nobody else wanted to see. I washed and dried my hair and at six-thirty we all walked to a Japanese restaurant called Tokyo Sukiyaki, which Dad said, would be like opening a restaurant in Tokyo and calling it New York Steak and Potatoes. I must say we are eating well. Dad said it was the most authentic Japanese restaurant he’d ever been to in the States. They painted the walls to look like paper and we had to take off our shoes. The tables were low and there was nowhere to put your feet. We all ate with chopsticks. Dad said you’re a pro when you can pick up three peas I in a line. He can do it – I can’t – and Genevieve pretends she can.

After that we tried to see Zorba the Greek but it was all sold out. So we went to Lord Jim instead. And guess what? Sold out too. Lots of parents would have been stymied at this point but Dad said he had just begun to fight. We went to a discotheque called Le Bistro where everyone was dressed to the teeth but there wasn’t any dancing. Dad bought us all beers (except a coke for Avril. I hate beer, as it turns out) and we waited around but we didn’t want to be the only ones dancing so we went back to the hotel and played Hearts. I got the Queen of Spades twice, which is definitely a sign of something.

June 18, 2023

Wild With Possibility:the teen diaries of Alysse Aallyn

Mon. Sept 21 – 64

A protective life regulated by bells. We come up the stairs at days’ end singing, hockey sticks over our shoulders like the dwarves in Snow White. Friends, bathrobes, curlers, bathing suits hang everywhere. You are Not Alone.

You go into your room and kick off your hockey shoes so forcefully the spikes damage the wall and throw yourself full-length on the bed even though you have only 15 mins to get pretty for dinner. Your roommate is laughing and throwing socks about. Life is good. Yet somehow I am wary of this idyll.

Tues Sept 22 – 64
I wish I was beautiful. It would make my life so much easier. But no, I have the Nose of the Aallyns, and the Jaw of the MauMau.

Writing under the sheets ONCE AGAIN by flashlight. This would mean a deten if caught which involves cleaning flowerpots down at the greenhouse. It could be worse. Boys have to shovel manure, which explains their smell. Many are the benefits of the female sex.

The smell of laundry soap is strong under here. Not that the sheets are clean – heavens no – they are stained with apple juice and blood. A brain-damaged girl got me in the ankle with her hockey stick.

Got my first KOB tonight so of course I have to memorialize it. A boy in my art class named Bob. I don’t know about Bob. I’m not sure he’s got what it takes. He’s too nice. Oh where will I find the boy f my dreams? My eyes wander over the Senior Class.

Left my razor kit at home and my legs are a hairy mess. Plus I wear kneesocks constantly and the rubber bands are cutting off my circulation. And my skin shows signs of becoming volcanic ground on a rich diet of creamed chicken and scalloped potatoes. Run for the boats, men, the Angry Goddess is about to explode!

At dinner I sit next to a very cute boy named Phil although he’s at least an inch shorter than me.
Got an interesting book out of the library about Anne Boleyn. Those Tudors certainly knew how to live. Well, enough of burning the midnight battery. See you in the AM.

Thurs. Sept 24. 1964
Rewriting Agnes Strickland, Lives of the Queens of England. She has her ideas, I have mine.

ISABELLA OF VALOIS – Unprepossessing, ye thinks? Look closer: this little chickadee is padded like a football player. Life was very rough and tumble in those days. Her face is all greased up and her ears seem to be missing. She married Richard II when she was eight and had no idea what was in store. Later he either was murdered or committed suicide so he wouldn’t be murdered.
JOANNA OF NAVARRE – Things are getting worse. Two fungus growths on either side of this head. She is wearing one of the new French bras but she still has to hold up her chest. When the French captured her, they gave her right back. Can you blame them?
KATHERINE OF VALOIS – Isabella’s sister but you’d never know it. She’s a dead ringer for Ringo Starr. No chest, a potbelly, and when they called her “Katherine the Fair” they were being sarcastic. Still, Henry V was madly in love with her. Maybe he was kidding.
MARGARET OF ANJOU – Maggie also well padded for the games, but content to take life as a bystander. From the expression on her face you can tell her team is not winning. She was a goalie in the Wars of the Roses.
ELIZABETH WOODVILLE – Her head is wrapped in mosquito netting and she is sucking on a lemon. Your guess is as good as mine what she was up to.
ANNE OF WARWICK – More sport, Old English Style. In one hand she holds a hockey stick, in the other, the ball.
ELIZABETH OF YOURK – An amateur magician. Saying, “Nothing up my sleeves, nothing up my socks.” I’d watch those sleeves, though.
KATHERINE OF ARAGON – Pictured holding a dead bouquet of flowers to symbolize her husbands whom she beat at wrestling. First one died, second one divorced her.
More anon!

Sun. Sept 27 – 64
Madness reigns! I’ve been behaving strangely for the past three days. Ah me. It is just too much that I have not been invited to the fall dance, and girls can’t invite boys here. Still there’s six days left. I will be disappointed if I don’t get KOBS from six boys all madly in love with me and threatening to throw themselves into the lake with one mighty splash. I can dream, can’t I?
Saturday was Night Problems – a strange affair where they blindfold girls & boys, put them in trucks and dump them in the woods couple by couple and make them find their way home. I was dumped off with Art the Wolf who made no moves on me but very practically suggested we follow the railroad tracks to the school! There was plenty of moon. We were the first ones back and won the box of cookies (which I gave him because I hate ginger snaps.)
Thurs Oct 1 - 64
Guess what, I’m in the infirmary. Lovesick or Night Problems? When first I entered Nostrils the nurse thought I was faking. But I had a real temperature all right! The doctor says I have SPOTS on my tonsils! (Lovespots.) Dr. Jax is one of those smooth mass-production doctors who advertise things on TV. Probably an incipient sex maniac.

Nostrils went snoopily through my bag asking what my Noxzema is for and confiscating my chocolate covered cherries (they were getting old.) Her nostrils really are amazing. You could pick her out of a crowd. She asked if Felix Krull, Confessions of a Confidence Man is a novel of sex and violence! I’m reading it but I don’t like it. Sometimes I read Vanity Fair (vey good! – Nostrils had heard of that one) and sometimes Nero Wolfe.

There are two boys in the Boys’ Section and I can talk to them over the swing door but I can’t see them! I’m going to write them both KOBS. Nostrils says I’ll be here till Sun which means I’m down for the count at the dance. These male sickos will have to be my dates.

Wed Oct 7 - 64
Life is so full. My whole being is just one big question mark. While waiting here to be fulfilled I am actually living. Reading Violet Brooke’s The Prisoners of the Tower. That’s what we are – prisoners of the tower. But at least it’s a co-ed tower.

I am introduced to the Art of Shiking – which is Being where you are Not supposed to Be. “Off bounds”. It has many sophisticated ramifications such as jumping from window to window, even running between the chimneys on the roof playing Viet Cong Vs French Resistance. Or it could just mean meeting boys in Central after dark!

June 17, 2023

Woman Into Wolf: the play

Scene 11 – the last scene
(The deep, deep forest. The trees seem extra magical and alive, leaves blinking with a million glittering eyes.)

PERSEY
Have the woods always been this magical?
Or is it only now that my eyes are opened?

BISH’s voice
Persey…Persey.

(He sounds different…unearthly. DIGGER manifests craven fear)

PERSEY
Oh, Bish! Where are you?

(BISH appears, his white clothing glowing – arms held out)

BISH
Don’t touch me. I’m still on fire.

PERSEY
(Staggers back, DIGGER hiding behind her)
What is it. Bish? Why can’t I hug you?
Are you radioactive?

BISH
In a way. I am dead.

PERSEY
(Crying)
Oh, Bish, please don’t tease me,
I’ve been through hell.

(She charges him, he eludes her easily)

BISH
So have we all.

(PERSEY falls to her knees)

PERSEY
Oh, Bish! What’s going on?
What has happened?

(Slowly the WOLF SPIRITS, DEADGIRLS, BOYGIRLS come out of the trees, glowing with beauty. They crown BISH with a wolf’s head and bow to him. Solemn dance around the pair; DIGGER, transported, joins in.)

BISH
I didn’t understand.
I offered love, but he needed death.
That’s not a game I ever played.
When he told me to kill myself I thought
He was joking. But then –

PERSEY
They revel in sacrifice.
They always planned
To pin blame on you.
It’s a death cult, Bish.
Their murder is everywhere.

BISH
That’s all behind me.
I’m a Wolf Spirit now.
(He howls, then raises PERSEY to her feet)

BISH
And so are you, I can see.
(She looks down amazed at her own transformation)

PERSEY
But I’m still alive, Bish. And you feel so cold.

BISH
It’s your choice, Persey.
You can come or you can stay.
If we touch, we can dance!
(He starts to dance – he is elegant – she is awkward.)

PERSEY
Oh, Bish, don’t ever let go!

BISH
But I must, Persey.
I’m past sorrow but you’re still unfinished.
Stay. Stay and be wolved.

PERSEY
I don’t know what to do. All I know is
I’ll never let the monsters win.

(BISH dances with the WOLF SPIRITS. ROY’s and JAROD’s voices offstage calling,)

ROY & JAROD
PERSEY! PERSEY!
WHERE ARE YOU?

(The WOLF SPIRITS & BISH melt into the trees, the trees go dead. Enter ROY carrying a shotgun. DIGGER cowers behind PERSEY)

ROY
Sweetmeat! Finally!

(Shouts behind him)

I found her!

(ROY makes a move to embrace her – she eludes him as BISH eluded her.)

ROY
Sweetmeat, what’s wrong?
You should never leave home.
The world’s not a safe place.

(PERSEY holds up her arms to block him. He appreciates her difference.)

What’s wrong with you?
Don’t say you’ve gone native.

PERSEY
Don’t you remember?

ROY
Sweetmeat, everyone gets drunk.
Jarod and I are so close
We’re practically brothers.
You know we share everything.
Closer than any man can be
To a woman. But
There’s a part for you to play, a whole
Future ahead. Don’t you get it?

PERSEY
I do get it.
Your mom told me everything – that
You’ve always been Bruce.

ROY
That bitch!

PERSEY
Did you murder Stormee?
Is that what you “shared”?
(JAROD appears behind ROY, also carrying a shotgun.)

JAROD
We’re hunters, darlin’.
That’s what we do. Rid the world of its
Vermin. Bitches know their places.
Bros before hos.

ROY
(Upset over PERSEY’s disclosure)
Babe’s a liar, that woman!
You can’t believe her! I oughta –

(WOLVES appear, howl wildly and advance menacingly. DIGGER joins in. JAROD & ROY jump.)

PERSEY
It’s over, Roy. Don’t you see?
The universe is against you.
Truth is the one thing
You’ll never destroy.
Truth goes underground.
Where the roots of the forest
Nourish the faithful and
Keep growing stronger.

ROY
Nobody’s faithful.
I see females and she-males
Who can’t keep their mouths shut.

JAROD
Open mouths only say yes.

PERSEY
You’re lost, boys
This time you’ve ventured
Too deep in the woods.
This is OUR turf now!
Cookie Louise, Monica and Jean,
Jo Lee, Mina, “DaToy”, Jane and John Doe
I summon you!

ROY
What’s that? Who’s that
Ya callin’?

PERSEY
Did you think you destroyed them?
You only transformed them.

(The TREES awaken. WOLFSPIRITS, DEADGIRLS & BOYGIRLS appear and advance menacingly.)

DEADGIRLS & BOYGIRLS
The chrysalis is broken! We will
Always remember.

TREE SPIRITS & WOLF SPIRITS
Who shattered the chrysalis?

ROY
(To PERSEY)
I’ll deal with you later.
Let’s slaughter this pack!

JAROD
Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!

(A Murder Ballet, in which TREE SPIRITS, DEADGIRLS & BOYGIRLS, WOLF SPIRITS, BISH, PERSEY, JAROD, ROY and DIGGER rush teasingly in and out, nipping, spinning. Ineffectual shots from the frustrated hunters.)

DEADGIRLS & BOYGIRLS
When you murdered us, you killed your own selves.

TREE SPIRITS & WOLF SPIRITS
We all are one! We remember!

(ROY & JAROD form a circular firing squad and shoot each other – registering shock & dismay at the bloodied moment of collapse. PERSEY sits vigil over the bodies while the WOLF SPIRITS, TREE SPIRITS, DEADGIRLS & BOYGIRLS take a gentle, longing, loving leave.)

PERSEY
So much waste.
So much lost.
Goodbye, Roy. Goodbye Bruce.

BISH
I wish you’d come with us.
Where glorious sunset meets
Unending dawn,
We run forever.
When the chrysalis shatters
The earth remembers and
New creatures are born.

PERSEY
I love life, Bish.
I’m not ready.
There’s so much unfinished and
I’ve got things to do. But
Grant me one wish.

BISH
(Disappearing into the trees)
I know what you’re asking
If you saw what I see
You’d live every second
Without fear.

PERSEY
(His echo fades. She holds out her arms to his dissolving spirit)
Wolve me! Wolve me!
I want to live!

(DIGGER whines, very unwilling to let the WOLVES go.)

PERSEY
You can join them, Digger.
You have been wolved.
You’ll always be free.

(DIGGER rushes back to her. She pets him.)

And I love you too.

(Flashing police lights. NED appears at the edge of the stage in his police uniform, speaking into a hand-held radio.)

NED
Two males, unresponsive
Shotgun wounds fatal
Face and chest discharge –
Maximum injury, all
Self-inflicted;
Backup, backup
GPS coordinates –

(His voice overwhelmed by static. Lights out.)

END

June 10, 2023
Woman Into Wolf: the play

(Scene 10 – The Deep Woods. DIGGER dragging, carrying, lifting PERSEY’s unconscious body into the trees. He stands guard, howling dramatically. The WOLF SPIRITS appear, nose her, cherish her, lift her, clean her with leaves. They dress her in a wolf skin, prop her up, and dance with her. She slowly comes to life, dancing like a Maenad with leaves in her hair. The WOLF SPIRITS pull back and PERSEY’s house opens up stage left where BABE stands waiting to greet DIGGER & PERSEY)

BABE
Persey! What happened to you?
(Looking disapprovingly at the litter of champagne bottles)
This place is a mess!

PERSEY
Jarod happened to me. I’m changed forever.

(Throws herself into a chair. DIGGER, thorns & thistles in his fur, settles down protectively beside her to clean his fur.)

BABE
(Kicking an empty champagne bottle)
You’re too old for wild parties.
Time to act like the mother
Of my future grandkids!

PERSEY
I am nobody’s mother and
I never will be, Babe. It’s over.
Everything’s broken.
Broken and lost.

BABE
(Shrieking)
Here’s the thanks I get for
Giving you everything!
I’m a sick woman!
And you’re the one killing me!

(DIGGER leaps to his feet and bares his teeth. BABE halts her attack
before physical violence)

PERSEY
Roy murdered Bruce, Babe,
He told me himself!
Roy loves Jarod more than he’ll ever love me.
I think he wishes he WAS Jarod
Who’s probably a wife-killer.
THAT’S your real family!

BABE
(Forcing calm, sits down beside her)
Oh, I see what went wrong.
Persey, you must understand;
Roy talks crazy sometimes
But he never means it.
It’s fun scaring girls.
This is really YOUR fault.
Admit, you love provoking him
With dubious friendships.

PERSEY
Why does the world need a scapegoat?
None of this is my friend’s doing!

BABE
Persey, set your heart
At rest. I’ll prove to you
Roy didn’t kill Bruce!

PERSEY
How can you POSSIBLY do that?

BABE
Because Roy IS Bruce.

(The WOLF SPIRITS howl. Portrait lights up. DIGGER sits up at attention.)

Everyone knows it but you!
Don’t tell me YOU never figured it out!

PERSEY
Now YOU’RE talking crazy, Babe!
Bruce went to jail! A felon and rapist
A cowardly bully.

BABE
It’s YOUR fault I’m telling you.
You chose college over Roy,
You broke my poor boy’s heart.
He was so angry at women
At men who pretend
He became dangerous.
I lived in fear daily
All because of you!

PERSEY
I just don’t get it, Babe.
What are you telling me?
I know Bruce was born.
You had twins – did you or didn’t you?

BABE
I gave birth to twin boys
While a child myself
In a foreign country, don’t forget,
With a shaky young marriage.
I had no help at all.
I tried so hard but
I had no milk for twins.
Roy was the weakest who
Needed me most.
Bruce seemed strong but died anyway –
Roy’s father was furious! Our marriage
Dead at that moment.
There were two separate trust funds, Persey!
The old ones didn’t need it.
Wasting money is wrong!

PERSEY
Let me get this straight.
You PRETENDED Bruce was alive?

BABE
It was a game at first, understand;
A rainy-day joke!
A beleaguered mother’s brave effort
To turn frowns upside down.
Without Roy’s father we needed the money!
When Roy was bad, he was Bruce.
When he behaved, he was Roy.
But when he grew up he became
Bruce all the time –
Doing terrible things.
It wasn’t my fault! I
Couldn’t manage him and his Dad was ghosting us!

(She spits into a lace-trimmed handkerchief.)

Weak men run away!
Don’t you see that, poor Persey?
At least Roy is still here! We’re
Lucky to have him!

(PERSEY covers her face. So BABE argues with the audience.)

BABE
After my husband died, I saw so much
Possibility. Second chances! We could
Get rid of Bruce for once and for all.
A beautiful ceremony – burying
The things Bruce had broken.
The costliest grave site
With doves and balloons.
Roy swore it was over.
He promised GOD. When he forgets
We go there to remind him.

PERSEY
(Struggling to keep up)
You’re saying Roy is the one…

BABE
(Ignoring interruptions)
I admit I made errors. These were
Battlefield choices.
When you’re a mother, Persey,
You’ll understand.
There’s SO MUCH regret. But
How is Roy’s acting out my fault?
YOU had abandoned him
Saying you wanted OTHERS!
Take responsibility, Persey!
I’ve owned up to my part.
Roy gave himself to you.
He’s a one-woman man.
You toyed with his heart,
Chose COLLEGE over love!
Of course he was angry.
Of course he went crazy
Bruce came back with a vengeance!
You didn’t help MY life,
I’ll tell you that.
He offered you everything!

PERSEY
Roy attacked and raped people?
It was Roy who went to jail?

BABE
When Roy went to prison it was a miracle
I was so grateful we had
A spare name to give him!
Clever planning and foresight is what
Breeds second chances.
Young men founder with blotted
Escutcheons! Jarod was SUCH
A good friend; claiming Roy had been
In his unit. When Roy was released
Bruce could just vanish. But when Roy’s
Unpredictable I MUST be
Trustee. Increasing our holdings
Made my son hate me more!
We need to start over, Persey!
This time you must help.

PERSEY
(Slow, incredulous)
Your son is a killer!
I’ll have nothing to do with it!

BABE
He only kills teases!
Vermin and tramps!
I thought I’d explained.
You weren’t getting pregnant! You
Forced Roy into testing,
Questioned his virility! What man
Accepts THAT? Now, this misery’s
Behind us, if Brucie stays DEAD.
Don’t rile Roy up!
There’s the future to think about.

PERSEY
(Launching to her feet)
Why can’t you face truth?
Your son is a murderer
And Jarod is helping him!
Roy murdered Jarod’s wife
In some sort of pay off!’

BABE
(Slaps PERSEY’s face hard.)
Keep your voice down in my house!
Don’t say this around Roy!
Jarod’s keeping him safe!
He’s the only man Roy can
Look up to, or even respect.
Boys need role models, don’t you see?
To learn how to play! Jarod’s my hero.

PERSEY
Your family is poisoned, Babe.
Your “truth” is a lie.

(ROY’s voice offstage)

ROY
We got him, Darlin’!
We captured the guy!

BABE
(Grabbing PERSEY’s arm)
Don’t tell him you know!
Roy will kill me, Persey
I’m a sick woman!

PERSEY
Babe, please understand.
Only truth lets us breathe.

BABE
(Pointing to the door)
Get out! Get out of my house!

(PERSEY and DIGGER exit)

June 9, 2023
Woman Into Wolf: the play

(Scene 9. Lights up on PERSEY House set where ROY & JAROD wrestle by firelight while the hot tub smokes suggestively and the eyes in the portrait track their movements. NED & PERSEY at the door. WOLF SPIRITS gather around and on top of the house, eyes blinking on & off. NED beckons JAROD aside, puts an arm around him – they exit together)

(PERSEY throws herself into ROY’s arms – he seems unresponsive)

ROY
(Holding PERSEY at arm’s length)
What did you do?

PERSEY
(Still trying to connect with him)
Oh, Roy, it was awful!
Poor Stormee is dead!

ROY
She was disloyal.
Didn’t she deserve it?

PERSEY
What do you mean?
Jarod controlled her every move.

ROY
Naw. I’m hearing she strayed.
Seems there’s lots of that
Going around.

(ROY pushes her away – DIGGER growls and poises for attack. ROY kicks at him. PERSEY orders him out of the house – DIGGER slinks away – to gather with the WOLF SPIRITS protecting the house. PERSEY thinks ROY just doesn’t understand.)

PERSEY
I found her dead, Roy.
Stormee’s been murdered.

ROY
That’s not all you found, is it?
Better stop lying!

PERSEY
(Very offended)
I’m not lying!

ROY
Oh yeah? Weren’t you making kissy face
With that snooping cop who’s harassing my mother?

PERSEY
What are you talking about?
I’m making “kissy face”
With nobody but you!

ROY
And then there’s that she-male
You pal around with!
What’s that about?
Don’t my wishes mean anything?
Those creatures spread sickness.

PERSEY
Bish is my friend!
YOU’RE covered with
“Wrestling burns”, thanks to Jarod!
What’s THAT about?
I found Stormee the way you two wanted –
And now I’ll have nightmares
Forever and ever.

(Dispiritedly she undresses and climbs into hot tub)

ROY
Welcome to reality, princess.
I know you’re still hiding something!
That cop’s got your number!

(WOLF SPIRITS & DIGGER howl without restraint – ROY snatches a shotgun out of the umbrella stand)

PERSEY
Roy, for God’s sake!
Who’s hiding from whom?
That cop asked ME to find out
If Bruce is really dead!

(Eyes move as portrait lights dramatically)

ROY
Bruce? Of course Bruce is dead!
I killed him myself!
In a battle to the death
There’s only one winner.

PERSEY
You did not! You couldn’t have!

ROY
That’s all the credit you give me!
No wonder my buddies are thinking
I’m de-balled, like your mutt!
Nobody tames ME, Sweetmeat.
And you know what else I’m gonna do?
I’m going to shoot me a canine!

PERSEY
DON’T YOU DARE!

(Marches to the door where he almost runs into JAROD who is wheeling a case of champagne on a dolly)

JAROD
Whoa, buddy!
Where are you headed?

(Wrestles shotgun away, dumps it)
This party just started!

ROY
Aren’t I your alibi?

JAROD
Hell no! DNA!
They got a condom
Overflowing with man juice!

ROY
Where’d they get that, I wonder?

JAROD
You ought to know!
Don’t you trust me, ol’ buddy? Everything’s
Fixed. They got a culprit!
We’re partyin’ here.

ROY
Hear that, Persey?
They caught the guy that did Stormee!

JAROD
First, capture the love juice, then
String the guy up.

(WOLF SPIRITS & DIGGER howl)

Man, you’ve got a wolf problem.

ROY
I know! Let’s go hunting!

JAROD
You kidding me?

ROY
Party first, fireworks after!

(He shakes up a bottle of champagne and shoots it at ROY. ROY, dripping, grabs a bottle to shoot at JAROD. Merriment – not shared by PERSEY)

PERSEY
I take it we’re celebrating
Your instant divorce?

JAROD
(Kneeling by the hot tub)
Birthday champagne for you,
Persey. Primo stuff. Some people die
Some people get born.
The party goes on.
Word on the street is
You like champagne.

PERSEY
You know nothing about
What I love and hate.

ROY
This Champagne’s Persey’s favorite.
She uses a glass, though.

(He exits. JAROD leans over, looking suggestively into the water)

JAROD
Looking for company?

PERSEY
(Flicking water on him)
No. Go away.

(JAROD strips down, slides in, clutching his champagne bottle.)

JAROD
Can’t dampen the drowned, darlin’.
I’m ALWAYS all in.

(He starts climbing in – PERSEY turns her back on him, tries to climb out – he stops her)

Have a heart, Persey. You’re being mean
To a heartbroken widower.

PERSEY
You better get your hands off me
Before Roy sees you.

JAROD
Sweet cheeks
This was ALL his idea.

(ROY appears with champagne glass and kneels on PERSEY’s other side)

ROY
Here you go, cupcake’.
Fertility meds served up in Baccarat
Just how you like ‘em.

(He holds her jaw, pours champagne in her mouth. PERSEY tries to get out, they both hold her down.)

Not so fast, hon.
It’s past time to make babies.

(PERSEY begins to thrash wildly)

JAROD
Don’t waste energy, Persey.
Two against one.

ROY
Yeah. Hunters in tandem
Bring down any game.

(They swarm over her. Lights out.)

June 8, 2023
Woman Into Wolf: the play

Act 3 Scene 8
(The forest outside JAROD’s house. PERSEY is dragging DIGGER along by his collar.)

PERSEY

DIGGER! I need you!
What the heck is your problem?

(DIGGER is doing everything he can to stall and resist. TREES surge, rustle, threaten. WOLVES howl.)

Are you scared of coyotes?
I thought they were your friends.

(DIGGER covers his ears with his paws and cowers.)
I’m ashamed of you.
Such a scaredy cat!

(Bossy mother)

They’re more afraid of you
Than you are of them.
We trespass in THEIR forest.
Ssssh! Hear them talking?
Maybe if we listen
We‘ll understand their secret.

(Calls softly)

Cookie, Monica, Jean,
Mina and Jo Lee … DaToy and
Mary Louise… Jane and John Doe…

(The TREES moan and shiver their leaves)

See? They’re helpers, not haters!
Believe me, a forest is safer
Than most strangers are!
Native Americans say
The trees are our home.

(Eyes appear glittering between the trees. DIGGER and PERSEY react fearfully. PERSEY tries to master her fear to be brave for DIGGER)

Cookie, Monica, Jean, Mina,
DaToy and Jo Lee, Jane and John
Are you there?
(The eyes turn into beautiful women wearing wolf heads; the WOLF SPIRITS.)

WOLF SPIRITS
(Sing)
Welcome to The Forest…the center of life…
Holds the mystery of death.

(They dance with DIGGER and PERSEY who are at first frightened and awkward, then ecstatic & surrendering. One Spirit gives PERSEY a gift. Then slowly they pull back into the dancing trees. DIGGER wants to go with them but PERSEY jerks him back)

PERSEY
Digger, I need you to stay with me now.
Did you see them?
So many – I never expected …

(DIGGER waves his tail sadly at the departing WOLF SPIRITS. PERSEY studies her gift…a hairclip with a hair extension attached.)

I’ve seen this before.
(Falls to her knees)
This is Stormee’s. Now I’m REALLY scared.

(At last DIGGER alerts. Sniffs the clip and commences racing around. Finds more bloodied “evidence” to lay at PERSEY’s feet. STORMEE emerges from the trees looking different – scary yet exalted. Her dress is a mass of red streamers. She dances, then collapses gracefully in a heap – PERSEY finds the body – scream – light out.)

June 7, 2023
Woman Into Wolf: the play

Scene 7
(Later. PERSEY’s house. She wears cleaning overall and carries duster & spray can. NED the cop in plain clothes knocks at the door. She’s surprised to see him.)

NED
(Very relaxed, strides in carrying folders)
Some place you’ve got here.
Looks like your help has help.

PERSEY
We’re do-it-yourselfers.
Um…how can I assist?

NED
Ready to work?
(Shakes the folders at her)

PERSEY
I am working.

NED
This is real work,
Not playing house.
Aren’t you supposed to be
My confidential Informant?
Saw your husband depart so figured
Now’s a good time.
Keepin’ it downlow.
How about coffee?

PERSEY
(She looks appalled but can’t think how to get out of this. DIGGER lifts an uninterested head and goes back to sleep.)
Um…sure.

(She wanders out. NED strides around the room, looking at everything. Scratches DIGGER behind ears, Pokes into things, wanders up to the portrait, which glares at him)

NED
Whoa, Nellie!

(PERSEY returns sans housecoat & duster, bearing a tray of coffee. NED gestures at the portrait)

NED
This is quite something.

PERSEY
Yes, isn’t it?
(She pours)

NED
That’s a lot of knives.
Your husband’s a collector?

PERSEY
Boys love toys.
Sugar? Cream?

NED
I could use something sweet.
One of those painted kids is
Your man, I presume?

PERSEY
(Sitting down – she’s had it with that portrait)
That’s what they say.
But no one knows which.

NED
Oh, I think I can tell.

PERSEY
(Very disbelieving)
They’re identical twins!

NED
(Confident)
Sure. One is a felon and the other
Married you. Think that wouldn’t show?

PERSEY
A felon?

NED
(Less certain)
Nobody told you?

PERSEY
Bruce went to jail?

NED
The guy was a rapist.
(He opens file)
He served four years.

PERSEY
My God!

NED
That’s my question, in fact.
There’s a gravesite and obituary…
But I can’t find a certificate.

PERSEY
Let me see.

(He hands her the file – contents projected on walls. Disturbing newspaper articles, black and white photos)

I was worlds away in college
Roy was in the army.
I never met Bruce.
Babe– she’s my mother-in-law
Says Bruce killed himself.

NED
Suicide never makes obits.
Family shame – there’s the rub.
Good coffee by the way.
You like it strong, just like I do.
Most people can’t handle that.
(Studied calm)
So you think something’s funny
About Bruce’s demise?

PERSEY
For the first time that seems likely.
A handsome young man,
With his own trust fund,
A bully who adored showing others his power.
Suddenly he has an actual motive for offing himself.

NED
(His turn to be disbelieving)
Family shame, you are thinking?
Some sense of remorse?

PERSEY
I know his mom pretty well.
Rape she could cover.
But prison…

NED
Mom’s OK with rape?

PERSEY
She’s a tad narcissistic.

NED
Ah. Would you say that it’s possible…
That Bruce is alive?

(WOLVES howl. DIGGER lifts his head and joins in. NED catches PERSEY’s cup as PERSEY drops it)

PERSEY
JESUS!

(DIGGER goes to window – all excited.)

It’s those coyotes. I’m afraid
Digger’s in love with them.

NED
Hey, we all envy the wild.
Sorry I upset you.

PERSEY
(Filled with revulsion and distaste)
Bruce CAN’T be alive.
. If he is alive, then where is he?
Roy says that he’s dead and
He couldn’t fool Roy.
Roy hated his brother but now
He’s been set free. He replaced
Bruce with Jarod who
Gives him esteem.
Not even their mother
Keeps that kind of secret.

NED
Work with me here.
Let’s imagine –
Just for argument –
Bruce was paid to vanish and
The money ran out.
What would he do?

PERSEY
(Cynically)
The money NEVER runs out.

NED
Wow. If you say so!

PERSEY
Roy’s mom isn’t clever
And she’s not really subtle.
I can read between HER lines.
She acts like something’s missing
That Roy took away.
Bruce’s death explains that.

NED
You think your husband
Murdered his brother?

PERSEY
What is it with everyone?
That’s NOT what I think!

NED
But somebody does?

PERSEY
One thing’s guaranteed;
If Bruce is alive,
Roy knows nothing about it.

NED
(Gentle irony)
So, in your case the wife
Is the first one to know?
Your husband can’t lie?
Kudos to both of you.

PERSEY
I know my own husband!
YOUR marriages didn’t take
So, what do YOU know?
Bruce was Roy’s twin!
It’s a special relationship.

NED
Would you say he loved his brother?

PERSEY
Hated him. Bruce was the favorite.
Roy never came into his own
Till his brother died.
But if he thought for a moment that
Bruce could appear…he’d act totally different.
I just know it.

NED
You’re pretty confident
In your ability to read people.

PERSEY
I can read THESE people.

NED
Kudos to ME picking
Confidential Informants.

PERSEY
(She fears he is mocking her but he’s very straight faced.)
So, what is it you want
Me to do for you exactly?

NED
Get me a death certificate.

PERSEY
This was supposed to concern Jarod!

NED
I say what this concerns.
That’s how this thing works.
You’re a better authority
On this family than on Gunver.

PERSEY
(She just hates this job)
Well, Babe is a packrat and
Bruce’s room is a shrine.
Her house is a castle.
I could look for it there. Or…
I could ask her.

NED
I’d appreciate it.
She won’t return calls.

(PERSEY rises as if to show him out but NED sits like a log. He not going anywhere.)

PERSEY
(A bit desperately)
Why Bruce?
And why now?

NED
His fingerprints turned up
Recall that pink shoe in the woods?

PERSEY
Really? You’re kidding!

NED
Who knows how long
A fingerprint lasts? Still –
There’s no coincidences
Only new patterns.
Bruce gets out of jail…
Disappears – bodies appear. They say
Rapists who serve time
Stop leaving witnesses.

(WOLVES howl. Now DIGGER wants to go out.)

PERSEY
(To DIGGER)
You lie down!

(DIGGER plays dead)

(To NED)

But that’s horrible!

NED
Horrible’s my job.
How long have you had
This feral dog problem?

PERSEY
There isn’t a problem!
If Digger’s friends choose to go feral
We can respect that.

NED
You promise to help me?

PERSEY
(Pacing, trying not to panic)
You’re looking in the wrong place.

NED
What makes you think so?

PERSEY
(Determinedly)
MY suspect’s a cop, that’s why
You’ll never see it.

(NED leans forward)

NED
Jarod’s got no criminal jacket.
He isn’t good for this. The question is
Why your husband has bad taste in friends.
Gunver physically violent
That you personally know of?

PERSEY
He brags about hurting prisoners.
The whole street’s afraid of him.
He and Stormee fight constantly.

NED
He’s got no complaints.

PERSEY
It’s a rigged system!

NED
This is circular reasoning.

PERSEY
He’s a parasite!

NED
Parasites don’t kill.
If they know what is good for them.
You’re emotionally involved.

PERSEY
And that cancels evidence?

NED
Hey, everyone’s suspect.
I promised to study it.

PERSEY
(Points to the folders he hasn’t opened)
So, what’s that doing here?
Those extra files?

NED
Oh. You wanted those names.
Of the missing.

(WOLVES emerge howling and gather around house.)

Sounds like…they’re singing.

PERSEY
Wouldn’t we all if we could?

NED
You mean feel one with nature?

PERSEY
Dance with the trees.

(She whirls. THE WOLF-SPIRITS stand up as humans with wolf heads & masks)

NED
In our dreams!

(Words & photos projected on walls. Names.)

WOLF SPIRITS
(Eerie chanting)
Cookie Louise, Monica Falkin, Jean Jane McComber, Ernie
“DaToy”, Jo Lee Ann Jeffries, Miss Mina Ha, Jane Does 1 through Jane Doe 4, John Doe 1,2,3.

PERSEY
Can I keep these?

NED
Do you want them?

PERSEY
Names are important.
I’d like to study them.

NED
The murderer didn’t care who they were.

PERSEY
I think he killed them because of
Who they were becoming.

(The TREES send protective vines over the house; DIGGER howls)

NED
That’s an eerie effect!
Really makes you shiver.

(PERSEY opens the door and looks out pointedly)

How about your name – Persey.
Where did that come from?

PERSEY
It’s an old one.
Persephone. It’s Greek.

(NED exits; having to push vines aside.)

June 5, 2023