#not a summer fan but I love the bullfrogs

[tahthetrickster]

His Feet Stained Red (1.2k)

an old experimental OC short from 3 or so years ago that tumblr apparently ate so now i have to repost it. love a hellsite

x

There's something about a summer evening in the backwoods of Georgia that makes a man want to settle up.

Maybe it's the nights out on the back porch, watching the neighbor kids running 'round in bare feet with Mason jars in their hands to fetch lightning bugs, admiring them at home for a night or two before they die in the jar. Maybe it's the dull, constant hum of the zapper by the porch swing, flaring up as the swarms of summertime moths take their annual Icarian flight into the light. Maybe it's the return of the little local church's Backyard Bible Clubs, the kids dusting graham cracker crumbs off sticky lips and chubby hands and finishing out the Lord's Supper with thimble-sized cups of Welch's Grape Juice.

If you asked me, I'd tell you it's the way the summer heat crashes over you when you walk out your back door, washing over every inch of bared skin in an instant. It's reminiscent of when Brother Aubrey's wife—God rest her soul—would bake bread in the cramped church kitchen, tossing a cup of water into the oven base, scalding steam curling around her bony white fingers as she shut it up again. It's the way the air itself settles on you, heavy as anything, scorching and sticky with humidity, making even drawing your breath a struggle for all the moisture. “Air you can wear,” my granny used to call it years past.

It only takes one Sunday evening of sweating through your sundress in the rickety old pews, fervently fanning yourself with your tithing envelope and cursing the busted window unit, to realize that you don't never wanna go somewhere that's hotter than this.

I reckon that's why folks are more pleasant in the summertime down here in the back end of nowhere. More willing to lend you a hand tool, or offer up a glass of sweet tea in exchange for some help out in the yard. More liable to show up to church on time, filling out the back pews but for the few aging deacons who still took the front.

More liable to try damn near anything they could to make sure they were well-respected in town. I reckon they figured it would transfer over in the end. Still not sure where on God's green earth they got that idea from. I sure don't remember my daddy ever reading that passage in the old leather-bound red-letter.

I reckon that's the reason he came up every summer. Wasn't no exception this year.

He always came up from the road that led down to the swamps, his bare feet stained red from the ruts dug into the old clay dirt road he walked on. My house—my daddy's house, before he passed some years back, God bless him—was the furthest one down that road. I suppose that's why I always saw him before anybody else did. I suppose that's why I never had much to discuss with him.

It was always an unspoken rule growing up in my daddy's house. Don't say nothing to nobody that comes up the road from the swamp if you ain't seen 'em go down into the swamp first.

He was black as night but for his feet stained red, and didn't ever have a scrap of cloth on him. If you weren't looking out for him, you might never even see him in the pitch black of the evening.

"Evening, ma'am," he called up to me as he approached. I nodded politely, leaning over the arm of the wooden rocking chair to spit into the brass jug on the floor. He stepped into the circle of my porch light and grinned up at me. Were it not for his bright white teeth and eyes the color of Georgia red clay, he'd've looked like a man-shaped hole cut out of the air. "Nice night, innit?"

I reached over to flick a spent cicada husk from the porch railing. "Yessir." I watched him for a moment, mulling over the pinch of dip held under my lip. "Hot as the Devil's own, though."

That made him throw his head back and laugh, revealing a blood-red tongue that came to a point in a mouth the color of tar. "I'm looking for work," he professed at last, still staring, still grinning. "You know how hard it is to find work these days. Reckon I could help you out some kinda way? I can do nearbout anything you need."

For an instant it seemed that the whole world went mute from the sheer intent in his voice.

"Sir." I paused for a moment, running my tongue over the packed dip thoughtfully, the only sound besides the cicadas and the nearby bullfrog the soft creak of my rocking chair on the wooden porch floor. I spat into the jug again. "Can't say that I want for much of anything, I'm afraid." I nodded at the porch stairs. "Why don't you sit a spell? Too damn hot to do much anything. Hottest damn night we've had in a while."

His smile vanished for a moment.

When it returned, it was sharper, an unnatural slant to the sides of his mouth. "You know, I believe I will."

He said nothing when he sat on the steps, simply watching me and grinning with that too-fake smile of his. I didn't say nothing neither, leaning back in my chair to enjoy a mild breeze brushing against my flushed skin. My nearest neighbor was still nearly a mile and a half back, as the crow flies, but if I strained my ears against the sounds of the evening, I could just hear the staticky twang of that old country radio station she liked to play at all hours on the wind.

I spat again. "You take dip, sir?" I was already packing the tin against my knee.

His eyes nearly glowed as I held out the open tin. The pinch he took seemed far too big, but he packed it under his lip expertly anyway and grinned broadly up at me. "For the road, then." And he stood again, far taller than he appeared to have stood before.

"Best walk on home," I advised, leaning back in my chair. "Past the witching hour now. Haints might be out to get you."

He laughed again, a jittering, hooting sound, and stooped to spit in the jug. "Soon, soon, soon. I still gotta get somebody willing to barter some work with me. Got any neighbors you wouldn’t mind pointin’ me towards?" I held his gaze evenly as I spat again. He grinned up at me, wide and feral, teeth stained with tobacco. "You're a saint, ma'am."

I waved him off. "Just as much a sinner as the rest of us." I ran my tongue over my dip again, watching him carefully. "Some of us more’n others."

He hooted with delighted laughter, thanked me again, and went off down the road, heading on his usual pilgrimage down the old dirt street towards town, his feet stained red in the night, leaving no sign he’d ever been by but for the shallow cloven prints in the Georgia red clay.

[musiclifeline13]

Stand Atlantic - Sad Summer Fest - Columbus, Ohio - July 20th, 2019 - captured by Jessica S. Wilt

For the third time this year, I flew to see Stand Atlantic play the USA. This time it was on the first ever run for Sad Summer Fest in Columbus, Ohio. Prior to the start of the tour, bassist Miki Rich was invited to be a permanent member of the band. I was so happy because he is a literal angel and such an amazing person!

I remember standing in line at their merch watching everyone get their chance to meet these goofs.The person in front of me was up to meet them and Miki noticed me standing there. He excitedly waved at me and proceeded with the current fan. I stepped up for my turn next.

Miki: "WE DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE COMING!"

(He was so happy to see me.)

Me: "I lied, I'm so sorry!

Miki: "You lied??? Why'd you do that?! Just kidding!"

I told them my original plans to be in Ohio earlier in June were cancelled so I was able to change my vacation days last minute to see them play SSF.

Me: "Sorry for my Neapolitan lookin ass, I just got back from Florida."

Bon: "Neapolitan? Is that the one that's brown, pink and white?"

We all talked for a few minutes and they asked me if I was back in the lower 48 states yet. I sighed. I old them I had a month or so left in Alaska and then I'd be on my way to New Mexico. (They've been waiting patiently for me to be closer to see them instead of flying outrageous hours to a show.)

I handed them both my Sidewinder and Skinny Dipping CD jackets to sign because I finally overcame my nervousness to ask them.

We took our pictures and said bye before their set. I was a couple feet from the barricade and was already sweating bullets.

They came out and I was just roaring with excitement! Every time I see them play, they always get the crowd going so hard. The setlist was a pretty decent lineup for them being one of the smaller, less known bands on the tour.

Setlist (not in order):

Bullfrog

Speak Slow

Lost My Cool

Skinny Dipping

Chemicals

Coffee At Midnight (restarted because a fan was down)

Lavender Bones

I really wanted them to play Sidewinder because it was one of their popular ones from their EP. They replaced it with Chemicals, which I think was a great choice for the festival. During that song, Potter literally YEETED himself across the barricade and played the song from the pit!

Though I didnt get a guitar pick or setlist, I still wholeheartedly enjoyed myself. I love going to their shows and they are by far my favorite band to see live.

A few other bands went on and I just tried to goed into some shade. (The heat index created the literal definition of swamp ass for all patrons.) I kinda hung by the merch table for a bit.

Potter was running it while I was there. Me and him talked for about ten minutes about where exactly I lived (Alaska or Ohio). I bought all of the merch that I didnt already have. (A green tie dye shirt, Lavender Bones dragon shirt, black Bullfrog shirt and the matching wallflag!)

I left early because the heat was too much for me at that point and I was worn out with an hour drive back home. I said goodbye to Potter and told him to tell the others for me. He told me he can't wait to see me again and hopes it's soon.

Never in my mind did I ever think that I'd fall in love with this band. What started out as just a fan to band connection became a light friendship. They are so amazingly funny, supportive and the nicest people I've ever met.

It's hard to describe my relationship with them to people who do not really know what it is. I might not even know what it fully is. Either way, they know my face and can pick me out in a crowd. That's way more than enough.

There's so much more ahead with StAt and me. They have so much potential and I can't wait to see where they take themselves!

xoxoxo

I love you Bon, Potter, Miki and Jonno!

🖤🖤🖤

[theprattlp]

I do some fan-fac short stories from time to time. Wrote this a LONG WHILE ago to address something that before the #Rogue & #Gambit mini had not even been brought up before. References stuff from the last arc of Chris Claremont’s X-Treme X-Men. In it, Gambit and Storm made out. It was random and pretty provocative and came out of left field. All the times that several years after that Rogue had gained control of her powers and began borrowing abilities from those around her on a regular basis. What if after one of these instances accidentally took too much from #Storm and got whiff of that kiss? Let me know what you think.

TOTAL RECALL

It’d been weeks since she’d spent more than a few hours at the mansion. Being an Avenger had taken over her life so much, it barely felt like home anymore. She’d been aimlessly wandering the halls for hours. Rogue wasn’t lost, per say, she was trying to make sense of some images in her mind. Not too long ago she was forced to absorb Storm’s powers, but the situation was so frantic she didn’t have the presence of mind to not take anything else. Something, other than the Weather Witch’s powers, had come along for the ride. A single memory of her closest friend and debatably the love of her life, passionately kissing by a waterfall while said friend lacked any bit of clothing. It didn’t compute to her. There wasn’t a timeframe in which she could place it happening that she and Remy or Ororo and T’Challa weren’t together in some fashion or another.

 Lost in thought, she snapped back to her senses in time to see she was about to cross paths with Gambit in the hallway. Every fiber of her being wanted to corner him and drag the truth out. But she hesitated. They’d barely spoken in weeks and he’d been so involved in his own world it felt out of place to go at him in a hostile manner over something that could have happened years ago… or last week. Besides, she thought, he’d probably charm and snake his way out of it, probably calm me down in the process. She didn’t want that. Rogue wanted to preserve the rawness of it all. This first had to be between Storm and herself before anyone else, even Gambit. It was late though and she thought it best to address it come the morning. So she decided to get a quick bite and then hit the sheets.

 As she turned the corner into the mansion’s obnoxiously large kitchen she quickly realized fate had other plans of how she’d spend the remainder of her evening. Storm sat alone at the breakfast nook’s table nursing a cup of tea. The beautiful Nubian X-Man ran her hand through her wild, white, Mohawk and nonchalantly turned toward the kitchen’s threshold as Rogue sauntered in.

 “Good evening, child…” Storm sang in the calming way she’s known for.

 “Ro…” Rogue responded almost curtly. She couldn’t believe how hard it was to be angry at Storm, but she still found herself sizing the woman up.

 “I see you are having as much difficulty finding sleep as I am” she assumed, as she casually crossed her legs. She then pulled the string of a soggy tea bag from her cup and laid it on a small saucer that rested underneath.

 “Ah guess so…” Rogue walked across the room and sat in the nook’s window seat and starred out of the window into the night sky.

 Storm knew her friend all too well and had become accustomed to picking up on Rogue’s mannerisms when something was bothering her. Her body language was stiff, but the fact that she chose to sit away from her and avoid eye contact threw her for a loop. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear they weren’t talking to one another.

 “Is something bothering you, Anna?” Storm asked cautiously, just slightly cocking her head to the side as she studied her fellow X-Man.

 For the second time that night, Rogue hesitated. She wanted to get right down to it, but in a way, she also didn’t want to know.

 “If ah’ asked yah a question…” Rogue paused. “Even it’s crazy, or perhaps none of mah business… would yah answer me straight, Storm?” Rogue turned and looked her friend straight in the eye.

 Storm immediately felt her guard go up. She didn’t do it consciously, but she definitely felt backed into a corner, and this was just a lead in question. She figured it was of a personal nature, perhaps about her divorce from ‘Challa, or goddess forbid, having to do with Rogue’s “Ex”, Magneto. Reluctantly, Storm took a long silent breath and smiled. “If it would help put whatever is bothering so to rest… yes, Rogue, I would… I will”

 Rogue almost regretted hearing those truthful, painfully sincere words. She swallowed and hugged herself in a way she hadn’t in a long time. Not since she’d been in control of her powers. She felt her throat tighten and her eyes burn just slightly as her resolve began to crumble, but before that happened she thought it best to spit it out.

 “A couple days ago, when ah’ absorbed yah powers… Ro’ ah’ took something else with them.  A memory, maybe a dream, Ah don’t know how old it is but...”

 Storm involuntarily raised a single brow. She couldn’t think of anything that could disturb Rogue like she was seeing. She wasn’t the saint most people make her out to be, she knew that, but there were only a few issues that could shake a woman that had fought and beaten gods.

 “Ah-Ah took a really vivid image of yah and Remy… kissing”

 And that was one of those issues.

If it were a button, it was a big red one that had the words “DO NOT PUSH” printed in bold letters across it. What made it all the worse was she knew exactly what kiss she was referring to. She and Remy had kissed plenty of times in the past but that was one that if they weren’t interrupted, may have turned into something more, perhaps much more. Her feelings for Remy weren’t inherently sexual or wholly romantic. It was a relationship of familiarity. She felt as comfortable kissing him as she would her husband, but Storm held him in the esteem of her most trusted confidant. Their relationship was platonic, but always held a spark of ‘what if ‘ within it.

 Storm’s posture changed from concerned to flattened to ashamed in a matter of seconds. The back of her neck was burning and her throat had all but dried. She unconsciously took a sip of her tea, almost afraid to break eye contact with the other young woman. “Anna…”

 “Ah mean really kissing… kissing yah, like he’d kiss me.” Rogue continued, almost mechanically. “Yah was near a waterfall, ah think?”

She wasn’t a fool by any measure. Rogue noticed the shift in Storm’s demeanor and through that knew what she was saying held some kind of validity. This made her a bit more desperate, and oddly enough wanted to deal with it even less. What if more happened? What if it just wasn’t a kiss? The sheer idea of it horrified and terrified both at the same time. “Can ya, help me understand it, Ro’… this was before me and him, right? Ah’m overreacting, aren’t ah?”

 Storm looked downright sheepish. She knew how to lie, but how do you mislead someone that you knew, knew the truth and even had proof. Even worse, she owned it. If they shared the same memory, then Rogue had seen the whole thing through a first-person view, her view no less. No. She wasn’t going to lie to her friend.

 “Rogue… it was not- it did not mean anything”

 “Yah were naked…” Rogue leaned forward with her hands placed on her knees for support as she looked at Storm with suspiciously narrowed green eyes. “Ya were naked as a wet bullfrog on a log in the middle of summer, sugah… and as for it not meanin’ nothin’ for yah, ah’m rememberin’ a whole lottah emotion from yah but indifference wasn’ once of em’, hun. Concern? Maybe” she leaned back with her arms crossed across her chest. “But more excitement, enough to override any unease, at least.”

 Storm had recovered from the initial shock of it all while Rogue spoke. She had the time to regroup her emotions and she found that she wasn’t in the mood to explain herself to Rogue on the matter of Remy, especially with the track record she’d had with him as of late.

 “Rogue, I apologize for it happening, but it was some time ago.” Storm began as she moved her eyes up to meet her friend’s own. “However, I do wholeheartedly regret it happened while the two of you were still together…”

 “While we were together?!” Rogue exclaimed.  “Just when do-… yah mean when me an’ Remy had lost our powers an’ the two of yah met up while he was away?” Rogue started putting the pieces together. Mostly due to the nature of her powers and the way they worked in terms of recalling foreign memories. The more Storm spoke, the clearer the memory got for her. Rogue closed her eyes and grasped her head. More and more of the moment began to flood into the forefront of her mind.

 Concerned, Storm stood up and stepped toward Rogue placing her hands on her shoulders “My friend, do not torture yourself with-”

 “Shut up!” Rogue snapped, pushing Storm away. A long time ago, that same reaction would have put Storm through a wall and in the ICU for weeks, if not killed her outright. “Ya betrayed me! Ah- Ah know how ya felt when ya kissed’em, don’t try n’dance around it, Storm”

 Storm kept her composure and her distance from Rogue. She understood that Rogue had grown and matured since her younger years, but she also knew her well enough to realize that this could escalate into more than a war of words if not handled cautiously.

 “I betrayed you? Child, not to sound insensitive-… no, I will if it is necessary.” Storm took a step forward and calmly crossed her arms in front of her. “You aren’t the impertinent child I once knew. It’s far past time someone spoke to you without fear of hurting your feelings”

 “About what exactly?” Rogue asked with a sarcastic smirk and matched her friend’s demeanor.

 “Magneto.” Storm spat. “I did not think that would be much of a surprise, to be honest.” Storm took another step forward.

 “What are yah- No! That’s none of ya damn business, Storm!” Rogue shouted and stood. She then cautiously scanned the room. She didn’t realize how loud her voice had gotten. The last thing she wanted was to have her personal life become ‘the talk of the town’, again. “Mah personal life, is mine, yah got that?”

 “Not when that personal life includes one of our oldest, tried and truest foes, child.” Storm curtly retorted, emphasizing on the word ‘child’. “I understand why he was on Utopia with us. We needed his might, his name. But I cannot for the life of me comprehend why you chose to be with him. Did you ever stop to think what that would mean to us, to the X-Men, or for that matter, to Remy?”

 The mention of his name made Rogue break eye contact with Storm.  Out of all the reasons she named, that was the only one that held real weight with her. Of course, she thought about Remy and but she rationalized that away with the need to think about what her heart wanted… or was it more what Legacy wanted? “And what does it matter any? Erik and ah’ are over, Storm... Don’t try tah change the subject!”

  “And what is the subject exactly, Rogue?” Storm asked with an arched brow, shifting her weight onto her heels. “Your precious feelings?”

 “Feelings? An’ what exactly do you know about feelings as o’late, Ro? You've been colder than Bobby since you and T’Challa separated…” Rogue snarled. “But since you ask me about Remy, let me ask you a question … Since he came back to the X-Men, have you once talked to him about what happened with Apocalypse? Or were you too busy running around ya’ palace, and ruling ya’ country with your king?”

 That stung. She hadn’t spoken her ex-husband’s name aloud to many people since the annulment. Storm looked past Rogue into the darkened heavens and then with an uncharacteristically malicious smirk she responded;

“My marriage was probably as distracting for myself as much as the view of Magneto’s room's ceiling was for you…”

 Rogue didn’t expect something so coarse from Storm. But nothing as of late had been overly typical of Storm’s behavior. She had a bitterness to her that Rogue had never seen in her before. But truth be told, Rogue didn’t mind going tit for tat.

“Ouch, Stormy. Didn’t think ya had it in yah…” Rogue said with an exaggerated ‘hurt’ facial expression and her right hand faintly land upon her chest “Did Logan teach you that during pillow-talk, or was he too busy-” Rogue’s comeback was interrupted by Storm’s fist striking her jaw.

 The young woman stumbled back against the wall paneling that separated the breakfast nook window another large pane of glass and slide down it, stunned. Rogue was genuinely surprised. She’s heard villains, racists, bigots and everything in between say and do far worse without her losing her composure. In a way, it made the strike hurt even more… but not so much as to let it go unanswered.

 Rogue blinked looking up at the Amazon. Storm’s eyes were on fire and at the same time in pain. Rogue swallowed and wiped a tiny trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. Then all in one motion she sneered, turned onto her side and swept Storm clean off of her feet. She fell to kitchen’s warm wood paneled floor with a “thud”. Before Storm could gather herself, Rogue had scrambled back onto her feet and dove onto her teammate. Once she pinned Storm’s left arm down with her leg, Rogue delivered solid blow across her once perfectly smooth cheek.

 A flash of blood and saliva escaped Storm’s mouth as her head snapped to the right. Years of combat training allowed the weather-witch to respond near instinctively. With her free arm, she pushed Rogue back and then contorted her body enough to reach forward with both of her legs and wrapped them around Rogue’s head. Then like a rubber band, slung the younger woman backward and off of her. By time Rogue had been able to look up, Storm was already in an all-fours crouch, a manner that reminded her of the Black Panther. With speed Rogue could compare the same to, Storm landed a stiff kick across her teammate’s face sending her careening into the table where she once sat.

 With a loud crash, the table flipped over sending everything upon it into the adjacent wall and shelving. Rogue lay shaken amongst the rubble of broken wood for quick a moment, then launched her into the air with a roar. Storm matched her howl as they collided and fell to the ground once more, both with hands firmly clasped around the other’s throat. They exchanged wide-eyed, enraged glares with one another just before either realized what they were doing. At that moment, both women seemed to experience an epiphany. Grips loosened. Breathing resumed. Tension plummeted.

 “WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” The outraged shriek of Kitty Pryde echoed throughout the room. The combatants broke their gaze on each other to notice Kitty, half their teammates, and even several of the students were standing awestruck in the kitchen doorway, among them, the topic of the night, Gambit, who was as confused as anyone.

 “Wouldn’t we get detention for this?” Quentin Quire rhetorically questioned. “The hypocrisy…”

 The two women then looked at one another again and then broke out in hearty laughter that frightened and confused the crowd even more. They helped each other up, shared a long hug and strolled out of the kitchen together arm in arm. Rogue broke her laughter long enough to glare at Gambit just for a second as she bumped past him. The stare was long enough and the bump hard enough for Wolverine, who was amongst the gathering, to pick up on. He jabbed Gambit in the ribs with his elbow.

 “What the hell did you do this time, Cajun?” Logan probed. Gambit, however, responded with a simple shrug.

“Dunno…”

  *The story references happenings of X-Treme X-Men.

[master-sass-blast]

Strong as Stone -Part Ten, First Half

*stares at title* I promised myself that I wouldn’t start a multi-parter this week. I promised.

*sighs* My idea self-control needs work, as does my realistic perspective of work actually required.

Well, hi there! Welcome back to the fun house!

Last time, we bore witness to the Wakandan New Year and watched Okoye navigate a family-oriented holiday without a (biological) family to speak of.

Feels were felt, by many.

(I think I could label all of my writing like that: feels were felt. It does seem to be a special ability of mine.

Or, perhaps, I should just stick to “ANGST QUEEN.”)

This time, we get to watch Okoye and M’Baku start their vacation together in Birnin Zana.

Rating: T for swearing, sexual themes, and mentions of death.

Warnings: Enough fluff to cause a heart attack, implied sex, and too much snark to handle.

Pairings: Okoye x M’Baku.

@the-last-hair-bender

The life of a Dora Milaje is not an easy one, my loves. Even though you will be surrounded by your sisters in arms, you may often find yourselves lonely.

The unfortunate reality is that there are not many who can keep up with the constant shift from stone to human and back. You may even find that it wears on your families at times --common, but unfortunate.

While patience on your part will be necessary, keep a sharp eye for those who can take your different forms in stride. If you find them, do not let go of them if you don’t have to.

You will never truly know how rare they are.

It was a morning off like any other.

Sugary, (relatively) unhealthy breakfast food? Check.

Usual set of cartoons? Check.

Comfortable clothes? Check.

However, most mornings off didn’t leave her with a tight, tingling sense of anticipation in her stomach. Most mornings off didn’t have her at the edge of her seat, ears straining to pick up any sound in the hallway.

Most mornings didn’t contain two messages from Ayo, one with a reference to a good chiropractor and one recommending a good brand of lube.

Okoye had sent back a picture message of her flipping her best friend off.

She sighed, forced herself to relax onto her couch, and took another bite out of her breakfast pastry. Waiting at the edge of your seat won’t get him here any faster--

A knock sounded at the door, and Okoye shot out of her seat, stopped, and forced herself to walk to the door and open it at a calm, normal pace.

M’Baku grinned down at her, leaning against the door frame. “Does a certain General Okoye live here?”

Okoye grinned back. “No, but you can come in anyway.”

M’Baku laughed and leaned down to kiss her. “It’s good to see you my love. The last two days were agony without your company.”

Okoye ushered him into her apartment and closed the door. “My experience was the same. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“To think, we could’ve avoided all that agony if you’d just brought me back with you on the first night.”

Okoye rolled her eyes as she laughed. “I know you would’ve preferred that option, but I needed time to get my apartment into order. Try as I might, there is always something growing in my fridge every time I come back.”

M’Baku chuckled. “Nice.” He set down his bag and took a moment to survey her living space. “This is very different from how we style things in the Jabari lands.”

Okoye shrugged as she looked around her living room. “I don’t know if you could call this styled...”

The only matching set of furniture she had was her couch and the three chairs that came with them --which she had chosen solely for their comfort. Three mismatched bar stools sat at the kitchen counter. The cubbies under the stand her TV sat on were filled with different souvenirs from her travels outside of Wakanda. The two end tables that bracketed her couch were different shapes and colors --a choice she’d made to annoy Ayo, and a choice she hadn’t regretted as of yet. Different pieces of art that she’d found in different thrift markets hung on the walls.

“No, it is,” M’Baku insisted. “It’s eclectic; it has rhythm.” He nodded at the end tables. “Did those... come like that?”

Okoye shook her head. “I mismatched them to annoy Ayo.”

M’Baku chuckled. “I’ve done stuff like that to irritate Dewani. Am I sleeping on the couch?”

“Only if you piss me off.” Okoye opened the door to her bedroom. “If not, I’d hope you’d stay in here, with me.”

“Well, I don’t plan on pissing you off.” M’Baku set his bag in her bedroom, then nodded at her TV. “What are those?”

“Cartoons. I like watching them during my time off.”

M’Baku grinned. “Really? You like watching cartoons?”

“They’re funny and cute! Besides, an adviser over the Dora Milaje program would tell you that having something completely separate from your life as a soldier is both natural and recommended.”

“It’s fine; I’m not here to judge.”

Okoye raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you still grinning like that?”

“Because every time I turn around, I’m learning something new about you that I didn’t expect. I like it. It’s exciting.” He kissed her forehead gently. “So, what’s our first order of business?”

“Actually, I thought we’d hit the market first.”

“Wasn’t one of the reasons you gave me for delaying my arrival for you to stock up on groceries?”

Okoye smacked his chest with her hand. “I did! I just wasn’t sure about some of the specifics of the vegetarian diet! I wanted your input!”

M’Baku snorted. “It’s not a religious thing. There’s just no space for raising cattle in the mountains. It would be impractical to eat meat.”

Okoye put her hands on her hips. “Have you ever eaten meat in your life?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Introducing it to your system now --especially as a core part of dishes for over a week--would leave you in a world of pain. Trust me. Besides, I thought you’d like the market.”

M’Baku grinned and kissed her cheek. “Lead the way.”

Her instincts, as it turned out, were completely right.

M’Baku loved the market. The natural thrum of energy and din of voices seemed to help him settle right in to the new environment. Dressed in linen clothes, dyed with vibrant colors, he blended in perfectly as well --save for his sheer size.

Okoye smiled as she watched him examine baskets of produce with the intensity of a scholar studying a book. “I see you took your sister’s advice about the clothes.”

M’Baku shrugged as he studied a basket of cowpeas. “You dress down when you’re with me. I dress down when I’m with you. It seemed fair.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt, fanning it against his chest. “Besides, it’s fucking hot down here.”

Okoye patted his shoulder sympathetically. “We can wrap things up here and head back in before the hottest part of the day hits.”

M’Baku gave her a pained look. “It gets hotter?”

Okoye laughed as they started walking again. “So, what do you think of our market?”

“Not all that different from the ones in the Jabari lands, save for the meat. You seem to have a very wide array of produce. There’s a great deal of options that I don’t recognize.”

“Well, I’d imagine a warmer growing climate would have something to do with that.”

M’Baku nodded. “Yes. Do the farmers use vibranium to help grow the plants?”

Okoye shrugged. “I wouldn’t really know. I’d imagine that there’s some element of vibranium use to help non-indigenous crops fair better, but I couldn’t say for sure.”

“I forget. Not everyone is a farmer down here.”

“I know who would know. I could set up a meeting if you’d like.”

M’Baku gave her an incredulous look. “Really? You could do that?”

Okoye adjusted her sunglasses so she could peek over the top of them and gave M’Baku the most glamorous look she could must. “I am General Okoye of the Dora Milaje. I have many contacts across Wakanda.”

M’Baku laughed and put his hand on her waist, drawing her closer in. “Come on. I think the heat’s getting to you faster than it’s getting to me.”

As soon as they got back to her apartment, M’Baku took off his shirt and flopped onto the hardwood floor of her living room.

Okoye laughed as she turned the ceiling fan on to its highest setting, taking pity on him. “How are you feeling?”

“Broiled alive.” He groaned as he flipped onto his stomach, letting the fan cool his back. “How do you survive down here? It’s hotter than hell!”

“Acclimation,” Okoye said. “When you’re used to the heat, it’s not as bad.” She handed him a bottle of water. “Staying hydrated helps, too.”

M’Baku downed half the bottle in a few swigs. “I don’t say this to be insulting, but I much prefer the cold.”

Okoye smiled as she sat down on the sofa. “I understand. I prefer the heat of the low lands, but it’s easier to warm up from being cold than to cool off from being hot.”

“See? The Jabari are superior in more than one way.”

Okoye rolled her eyes, amused, as he flipped onto his back again. “Whatever you say, darling.”

A gentle rainstorm swept through the valley during the late evening, cooling the air down as night set in. Crickets chirped and bullfrogs croaked, taking over the sounds of the city as her citizens bedded down for the night.

Okoye had opened her bedroom window to let the damp, cool breeze float through the room. The ceiling fan was on, keeping the room comfortable.

M’Baku was bent over, peering out the window as he leaned against the frame. “Everything’s really different at night. It’s almost like camping in the valleys. You wouldn’t be able to tell from the palace.”

Okoye smiled as she watched him. “It took me some adjusting the first few times I stayed here. It was bizarre to be so alone, to not have to be in contact with people if I didn’t want to be.”

“I can imagine.” M’Baku stood and stretched. “It feels like a Jabari summer.”

“I take it you’re comfortable, then.”

“More so than I was earlier.” He laid down on the bed next to where she sat. “So, do you have any plans for me this week?”

Okoye shrugged. “I had a few idea. It mostly depends on what you’re game for. We have some museums and libraries I thought you’d like. There are some nature preserves as well, but I’m not sure they’d be the best fit, considering how well you fared today.”

M’Baku shrugged. “We’ll have to play it by ear, but I like the sound of all those options.” He tugged her down to his chest with a playful smile. “Though, I would hope that you accounted for some... quality time as well?”

Okoye grinned back. “Well, that depends on what you mean by ‘quality time.’”

M’Baku started kissing her neck. “Should I show you what I mean?”

“You know what? I think you should.”

She woke up to the sensation of the end of her bed sinking under a heavy weight. Okoye rolled onto her back and squinted at the end of the bed.

M’Baku smiled and held out a steaming mug of coffee to her. “Good morning.”

She had to clear her throat twice before she found her voice. “You figured out the coffee machine.”

He snorted. “Just because I am a Jabari doesn’t mean I can’t use trial and error.” He sipped at his own mug. “So, I was thinking about the ideas you threw around yesterday, for how we could spend our time while I’m here?”

Okoye propped herself up against her pillows. “Yeah?”

“I mean, I like the sound of all of them, but I came here to be with you. I don’t want to spend our time together running this, that, and the other way. I want to do what you do during your time off.”

Okoye shrugged. “Unfortunately, I’m not that interesting when I have time off. I mostly watch cartoons and keep to myself. I figured, since you spend a lot of time doing things and being outside, that you’d want to see and do different things.”

M’Baku sat back, expression contemplative. “Ah. Well, you’re not wrong...”

Okoye tapped her fingernails against the side of her mug. “How about... I think you’ll like the central library the best, and there’s an animal observation center that is air conditioned. We could go to those place to get out of the apartment during the day without forcing you to endure heatstroke. Then, during the mornings and evenings, we can visit some of my favorite places throughout Birnin Zana while it’s cooler out. How does that sound?”

“It sounds good.” He grinned, then set his cup on the nightstand before crawling up the bed towards her. “But, admittedly, I’m not in any hurry to start all that.”

Okoye laughed and quickly set her coffee mug next to his before he could pull her to him. “Oh, really?”

“Well, I mean you’re wearing my shirt. How am I supposed to resist you?”

She managed to get out a short laugh before he covered her lips with a kiss. She wound her arms around his neck and let out a happy sigh.

[travelingtheusa]

SOUTH CAROLINA

2020 Nov 30 (Mon) – We left Simpsonville at 9:15 a.m. and drove 169 miles to the Elks Lodge in Orangeburg.  The lodge was closed.  There were 30 amp hookups around the side of the lodge in the back.  You had to drive onto the grass.  It rained very hard last night and the ground was very soggy and wet. We were afraid to try to drive onto the grass in fear of sinking into the mud.   There was a little piggy running around the property and it had dug up several areas in the yard.  It was hungry and came running up to us looking for food.  Not knowing anything about pigs, we tried to ignore it while we decided what to do.

     Finally, we got back in the truck and found another campground.  It was 30 miles north over by I-95.  The Colleton State Park campground was small but nice.  They had a lot of trees in the campground that make it hard for large rigs to navigate. We were lucky to get a pull through site.  There were only two other campers in the park.  We drove out to get fuel.  The town was essentially nonexistent – everything closed up – and we had to drive down another exit to find a gas station.  We also stopped at Skynyrd’s Grill & Bar for lunch.  

 2020 Nov 29 (Sun) – We drove over to Trap & Sam’s this morning. They went shopping and enjoyed some alone time while we watched the kids.  We watched some of their favorite shows, played a board game, and walked down the block while the big guys rode their bikes.  The baby is walking very well now and learning to talk.  Each of them is so unique in their personality.  It would be interesting to see what they will be like as adults.  It was a delightful afternoon and hard to say goodbye.  Tomorrow, we move on.

2020 Nov 28 (Sat) – We went shopping this morning.  We had to pick up cat food and a few Christmas gifts. Then we drove over to Greg & Sharon’s to see their new house in Cowpens.  They had it custom built.  It is a lovely home with 3 bedrooms and a large great room that incorporates the kitchen, dining area, and living room.  Their back deck faces out over a lake and their one-acre property.  Trap and family also came over.  The kids spent most of the time riding around the yard in Greg’s golf cart.  They had a blast!

 2020 Nov 27 (Fri) – We drove to Greenville today and met Trap, Sam, and the kids at Falls Park on the Reedy.  It’s a beautiful park with a flowing waterfall right in the middle of the city.  We walked across a pedestrian bridge and around the area that had lots of grass and walkways.  The park was very crowded and most people were not wearing masks.  There was a fascinating tree on a hillside.  The dirt on one side of the tree’s roots had been washed away and the root system was fully exposed.

     After Falls Park, we drove to Paris Mountain State Park.  Unfortunately, the place was full and they were turning people away.  So we drove to Cedar Falls State Park.  This was a large park with paths that wound through the woods and alongside the Reedy River.  There were some rapids and small waterfalls.  We strolled along the paths trying to avoid the other people out there.  It was a very pleasant day with the kids.

 2020 Nov 26 (Thu – Thanksgiving) – We went over Trap & Sam’s for dinner.  Sam’s parents, Greg & Sharon, joined us as well.  As with every Thanksgiving, the food was plentiful and the family lively. It was a good day.

 2020 Nov 25 (Wed) – We packed up and left Moncks Corner at 9:35 a.m.  It was an easy drive over mostly local roads to arrive at 1:30 p.m. in Simpsonville. We are staying at Scuffletown RV Park. It is a kind of helter skelter place with RVs spread around the area.  It has an air of dishevelment to it.  I think many of the campers here are full-time residents.  When we arrived, no one was in the office.  I had to call.  The gentleman told us to park in our campsite and he would be over later.  He showed up about 3:30 p.m. and checked us in.  We have full hookups and wifi.  I guess this campground kind of takes care of itself and he doesn’t need to sit in the office all day.

     We went over to Travis & Sam’s to see their new digs.  They live in a huge house in a cul-de-sac.   Each room is bigger than the next. The kids love it.  There are also lots of kids in the neighborhood to play with. Travis is bringing home more money than he made in New York, and their cost of living in the area is less. Things are looking very good for them.

      Sam ordered dinner from Chilli’s and we had a feast together.  We will be back tomorrow.

 2020 Nov 24 (Tue) – We met Samantha for lunch at Gilligan’s Seafood Restaurant.  This restaurant was right on a wide canal.  It was a delightful visit and a wonderful chance to say goodbye.

     We have a Fantastic Fan that we’ve been having trouble with for the last several months.  Finally, the fan would not shut off and Paul cut the power to it.  Today, he got on the phone with tech support trying to find what the specific problem is.

 2020 Nov 23 (Mon) – We drove over to Samantha’s house today to visit and see her beautiful home.  It is a lovely home in a large development.  When Michael gets out of the Navy in three years, they plan to sell it (for a profit, hopefully) and move elsewhere.  Neither of them cares for the summer heat of South Carolina. We certainly don’t blame them!  They have a plethora of pets – a dog, 3 cats, a hamster, and a bullfrog.  Their dog, Biscotti, is adorable and loves people.

     I had printed out copies of the genealogical books I had put together for our family but forgot to take them with us when we went to Sam’s.  So she followed us back here to the campground. She got a chance to see our RV (they’re talking about getting one, too) and to get the books.

 2020 Nov 22 (Sun) – We went to Cypress Gardens today.  It was very enjoyable.  They had a self-guided boat tour around the swamp.  That was the first time we’ve ever done a self-guided tour on a boat.  The water was so still and smooth; like glass.  We followed arrows as we paddled around the lake.  Although we saw lots of turtles, we only spotted one small alligator sunning itself on a sign post base.  After the boat tour, we walked around the grounds.  There was a butterfly house, an area with five different parrots and a peacock, and a swamparium with various fish, snakes, and toads.  An outdoor pen held the biggest alligator I have ever seen.  It must have been 20’ and weighed a ton!  We then hiked around the lake.  We came upon a bat hotel and an old gravesite.  The original owner, his wife, and their son are buried on the property.

     We had lunch at Gilligan’s Seafood Restaurant, then picked up some groceries at WalMart.  I called my niece, Samantha, to see if she was up to a visit (she is my brother’s daughter).  She and her husband, Michael, met us at El Maguey for dinner.  It was a delightful visit.  Because Michael is currently in the Navy, he is not allowed to eat indoors in a restaurant.  We sat out on the patio and enjoyed a good meal.

     I heard many gunshots this morning when I woke up.  Apparently, there were several people out hunting this morning.  That seems so unsafe!

2020 Nov 21 (Sat) – We ran out of propane last night.  We stopped at WalMart to pick up some items, then Tractor Supply for propane.  There was no sign for Tractor Supply on the road.  The WalMart sign was also way back off the road.  We had trouble finding the way into Tractor Supply but finally found it.

     We drove around the lake, trying to find the power station.  All the roadways were closed off by gates and fences.  Paul said there were also locks on the lake at one time.  When they were built, they were the highest locks in the world at the time.

 2020 Nov 20 (Fri) – We pulled up stakes and left Kure Beach, NC at 9:30 a.m.  We drove down the spit to the ferry.  Unfortunately, the next ferry was not until 11:30 a.m. so we sat and waited.  In addition, it was an extra long drive today – over four hours.  We didn’t arrive at Moncks Corner at the Short Stay Navy Recreation Area until 4 p.m.  Thankfully, Bonnie’s issue is over and we were able to drive with only one stop.  The route was mostly over Route 17 which is just a two lane road that passes through many local towns.  

     This is a very interesting campground.  There is lots of space between campsites.  The sites themselves are on grass and worn gravel pads.  We have electric and water hookups only; no sewer. The campground sits before the largest manmade lake in South Carolina.  The interior roads are dirt; there’s very little concrete and asphalt in the park.  There are also cabins for rent and when the coronavirus is not prevalent, boats to rent and lots of recreation area.  Some of the cabins are painted that beach front pastel color that makes them very attractive.  They are in the process of renovating many of them – either because of their age or from hurricane damage.

     It was so cold that I dragged the electric blanket out of the closet. That made the bed so nice and cozy. I hate crawling into bed and waiting for the sheets to warm up from your body temperature.

[rdgpcg]

As we  bumped and bounced our way along route 90 outside of Boston, people in cars beeped and waved as they passed the long line of yellow school buses. My knees were pressed into the back of the seat in front of me. I remembered buses having a lot more room in them on the way to elementary school.

The “30 minute” bus ride from Boston to Hopkinton.

It was 2017 and the occasion was the running of the 121st Boston Marathon which, until now, takes place on the Massachusetts State holiday of Patriot’s Day each spring.

I paused in my scribbling of this post to re-read my entry from 2017. It seems like yesterday but also seems so long ago. I still naively believed that I had strained an adductor and didn’t realize the seriousness of the injury I ran with. I had no idea that within a year other parts of my twisted, aging body would decide that more marathons were not in my future. As I read, I vividly remember the journey from Hopkinton to Boston. I remember thinking “What an awesome place this is to be. Next time, I’d really like to run well here”. As it turns out  it would be my slowest, and last marathon ever. I admit, I had to to pause for a few deep breaths while reading.

I shouldn’t be reading about things like my last ever  Boston Marathon during allergy season. *sniff*

Patriot’s Day is this coming Monday (April 20th). There will be no school buses, no crowds, and no tired runners on the T on Monday afternoon. For now, the race has been postponed to September.

The Boston Marathon is not alone. Not a single springtime or early summer event has been spared the wraith of COVID-19. I had be vaguely training for two a few springtime events. I had planned to participate in my first Love Run. It has been postponed to October. I had also entered the Jim Thorpe Running Festival’s half-marathon. Also postponed to the fall but very close to the Love run so I chose to defer to next year. I had planned to participate in my first albeit small adventure race which has been postponed indefinitely.

We are now in the fourth or fifth week of “Stay-at-Home” orders from our Governor. We are existing here at home. So far I am still getting paid and able to work from home. We have plenty of food and, more importantly, toilet paper. On the plus side, we are saving lots of money because, frankly, there is nothing to spend it on. That said, we are definitely missing the little things in life.

I’ve never been a big NFL fan. I wouldn’t care if they never played another game. The same with the NBA and NHL. But I have always been a baseball fan. I have very fond memories of sitting on the back porch in the dark with Mom and Dad listening to the Phillies radio broadcast. We lived out in the country so the only sound aside from the calm voices of Richie Ashburn and Harry Kalas were the night time crickets and croaking bullfrogs.

The voices of warm spring evenings. 

Outside the screened porch, the fireflies were so numerous their glow was like a constant burst of fireworks across the back yard. While these days, baseball season starts too early, goes too late and features way more playoff teams than deserve to be there, I have missed tuning my radio to the static-filled AM hum of the Phillies broadcast. There is no telling when they will be back in action.

Many of those evenings on the back porch followed a day of fishing with my good friend Norman and his son Lewis. “Back in the day” the target of most spring fishing trips was Delaware Bay weak fish. Contrary to their name, weak fish (or sea trout) are not weak. The names comes from their soft mouth. Once upon a time, big tide runner weak fish moved into the bay to spawn every spring. A 10 lb. weak fish slamming your bait and running off with the tide is the stuff angler dreams are made of. Norman and I spent many long winter nights shooting pool and dreaming of spring days and tide runners.

A giant tide runner “weakie” in Fortescue, NJ. Angler unknown. 

In early May in Fortescue, NJ the line of trucks waiting with boats to launch at Higbee’s marina stretched down around the road all the way through town. It was often said, a person could walk across the bay on the boats during the spring weakfish run. Sadly, that was back before the days of saltwater limits. Both recreational and commercial fishing decimated the weakfish populations. Now the limit is a paltry 1 fish at 13″.

Still, come spring part of my heart turns to the Delaware Bay and fishing. With the effects of climate change, the bay is not the body of water it used to be but it is always changing and full of surprises. The big spring sport now is drum fish. Black drum have always been in the bay but in the days of the easier-to-catch weakfish, only a handful of  eccentric anglers focused on drum. They were an odd bunch with odd ideas. Most old drum fisherman felt that you could only catch drum in the dead of night and that you had to be whisper quiet. You see, drum fish get their name because they drum. Really they are expelling air from their air bladder as, presumably, a form of communication but it sounds like someone slamming their foot down on the pedal of a big, bass drum. “BOOM”! Those old fishermen felt that if you can hear the drum fish they can hear you. Dropping a heavy lead weight on deck was liable to get you thrown overboard.

Drum fishing with my buddy Joe.

Success! The elusive black drum.

The last few years the drum fish bite in the bay has been superb. Some of the best drum fishing I ever remember. In fact, with not much else happening in the bay that time of year the fishery has attracted so many fisherman I worry that the drum will follow the path of the weak fish. Little is known about these booming giants.

A good night on the bay.

They are a pretty common fish but so was the weak fish. Fortunately, there isn’t a big commercial market for them and there are limits in place. That aside, this rekindled fishery has me anticipating spring trips on the bay each year followed by delicious drum fish parmesan. After spending cold winter days tying snell knots on fresh hooks, I eagerly await the new and full moons in May and the booming of big black drum. Like running and baseball, it seems like spring fishing, at least on the bay, will be another casualty of the current epidemic.

Drum fish convert to one of the best parmesans ever. 

But really these are first-world problems even in the first world. There are people nearby worried about how they will buy food or keep a roof over their head so the inconvenience of not being able to run a race or go fishing pales in comparison. Still, I think it will be a long time before we have gatherings for recreational events again. There are optimists out there that are confident in fall race dates though I think we are in for a much longer fight than that. Nonetheless, I’ll look through some old photos, continue to read some of my old posts and hope for a return to the things we love.

The Rites of Spring As we  bumped and bounced our way along route 90 outside of Boston, people in cars beeped and waved as they passed the long line of yellow school buses.

[ecotone99]

[HR] The Croaks are Coming

sweet tea

Braahnk. Braahnk.

“The Croaks are coming.”

Mortimer rocked back in the rickety chair. Took another swig of sweet tea. The breeze blowing through the porch cooled his leathered skin during the midsummer's night.

“Ain't no such thing as Croaks, Papaw.”

Little Averitt says he doesn't believe. But his wide eyes and his goosebumps betray his words.

“They're just bullfrogs.” Averitt continued.

The boy's grandfather turned to him.

“There're bullfrogs out there for sure. Cicadas and 'gators. Cottonmouths too.”

They scanned the swamp that stretches out beyond the front porch. There's plenty out there that could kill a man.

Braahnk.

This time Averitt jumped. Mortimer let out a chuckle. Averitt climbed off the floor and edged closer to his Papaw.

“You gotta be careful this year, boy. You're finally ripe.”

“They don't take little boys away!”

With defiance, Averitt belted out his words. They say the Croaks only snatch children of at least eight years. Averitt's never seen it happen. He's never been friends with older kids either. Mortimer enjoys toying with his grandson, but he knows Averitt had better stay close to home this summer. The Croaks aren't too concerned with the child's belief system. A lack of belief didn't keep Mortimer's friend safe. Nor his brother. Of course, everyone in the small town of Henry believes the boys ran away. That they do believe.

Braahnk.

“Is it time for bed yet?”

Averitt's getting awfully fidgety. Even more fidgety than an eight year old ought to be. Mortimer throws another gulp of sweet tea down the hatch. A few cubes of ice rattle around the empty jar. He stands to stretch. Back pops like a corn cob thrown on dying embers.

“I suppose it is, boy.”

biscuits and gravy

“Averitt, get down here! Breakfast's ready!”

Eleanor didn't believe. She's had to listen to her husband talk about Croaks her whole marriage. Sure, she didn't meet Mortimer until later in life. And she didn't grow up in Henry. But she's the best Grandma Averitt could ask for. She treats him like her own. Treats him to fluffy, buttery, cathead biscuits topped with her famous sausage gravy for breakfast. Half-asleep, Averitt makes his way downstairs.

“Did Papaw keep you up late again last night?”

Mortimer's not going to let Averitt answer this one.

“I wouldn't dare such a thing, Ellie!”

Averitt flashes a grin.

“We heard the Croaks last night, Grandma!”

That lights her up.

“What did I tell you about fillin' that boy's head with lies!”

“Aw, they was just bullfrogs is all.”

“But you told me--”

Mortimer won't let his grandson protest. Now's not the time. Gotta let Eleanor get off to the neighbor's house. Too many goats to milk and not enough hands. Eleanor heads to the wash basin to clean up. Scrubbing dishes, she's still hot. She's spouting off to no one in particular, but Mortimer sure can hear it. She dries the last dish, washes her hands, and heads for the front door. Pauses. Turns.

“Don't scare the poor boy, Mort.”

She walks over to Averitt and plants a wet kiss on his cheek. He's not too keen on grandma-kisses, but accepts her affection. She's going to be late. Eleanor turns and heads out the door.

Mortimer walks over to the window. Watches her walk down the dirt road. Once Eleanor is a sufficient distance he turns back to Averitt.

“You better believe those were Croaks, boy! Every ten years. Middle of summer they come.”

Only by accident of birth did Averitt miss the last Pickin'. He's more curious to hear the tale again under the safety of daylight. Mortimer and Avery sop their plates clean and head outside.

No breeze today. The oppressive heat does a number on Mortimer. He finds his seat and pulls out a handkerchief to fan himself. Averitt plops down at the edge of the porch, feet dangling over the side. Grass hasn't been mowed in a while and the taller weeds graze against Averitt's calves. Averitt's eager to listen. Sweat's already forming on Mortimer's brow. He wipes with the 'kerchief and resumes fanning. He begins the tale:

“The Pickin's been going on for longer than Henry's been a town. Every ten years they come. Middle of summer. We never know when exactly. It always varies by a couple days. But they'll be here this year. They'll be here soon. And every ten years we hear the same excuses. So-and-so ran away. Charles was killed by his father.”

Mortimer pauses. Charles was his friend. He's remembering.

“Mr. Haddick didn't kill his boy! He loved Charles. He'd do anything for that boy. Anything.”

Averitt turns to look at his Papaw. Mortimer tries to hide it, but Averitt catches the handkerchief swat a tear from the corner of the old man's eye. Averitt doesn't acknowledge it. He knows better. Turns back around. Kicks at one of the weeds.

Mortimer composes himself.

“The Croaks are horrible creatures. They'll snatch you from your bed. From the porch. From your parents' arm--”

He sees the boy twitch. Shouldn't have said that. Averitt's parents both died a couple years back. Mortimer continues.

“But they love to hunt in the swamp. You don't venture out to the swamp this summer. Not to fetch a ball that was tossed too hard. Not cause someone dared you. You shouldn't even want to leave this porch this year. The Pickin' will happen soon.”

What little hair Averitt has on the back of his neck begins to rise. He wants to hear more.

“Tell me what they look like Papaw”

Mortimer wipes more sweat away. His 'kerchief is soaked now. Keeps trying to fan himself regardless.

“They look like bullfrogs, for sure. Sound like 'em too. But you know when you hear a Croak calling you. Sends a chill down your spine. Mesmerizes you. You only hear a Croak call once. They enchant you. You lie in bed, sheets pulled to your nose. Stare at the ceiling, not daring to move a limb. The Croaks are coming. You know they're out there. You know they're Pickin'. You know you're next. But when you hear it, when you hear the call, all fear leaves your body. Your soul detaches from the flesh and is lifted from the bed sheets. Braahnk. The call is a sweet melody now, divorced from the one that draws you closer. The Croaks are coming.

They lurk in the swamps. They wait in the shadows. And they hunt at night. Slick skin the color of moss. A bullfrog's body, hundred times over. Tall as I was before gravity took its toll. Then it smiles at you. Teeth like daggers, you'd welcome a rattler's fangs deep in your flesh rather than look any longer. But by the time you see the smile you're already gone.

Then it hops. Feet like a grizzly pound the ground, claws dig deep into the soft mud. The call brings you closer. Then it pounces. Like a cougar it grabs you, fangs sink in deep. They drag you deep into the swamp. You'll never be seen from again. They take you back home. Back to the Other World."

Mortimer looks down at the floor. He stops rocking in his old chair. He pauses. Thinking.

"We don't speak of the Other World.”

The comforting embrace of the sun's rays isn't warm enough to stop the cold tingle running up Averitt's spine. Too scared to move.

Mortimer cups his hands round his lips:

“Braahnk.”

Averitt falls off the porch. He whips his head around to see Mortimer cackling.

“Papaw!”

Still laughing,

“I think it's time we head inside. The shade we're under now ain't doing us no good.”

whiskey

Wrapped up in a blanket, Eleanor has her nose in a book. Mortimer's not concerned with the title, some sappy romance he reckons.

“How do you stand being covered up like that?!”

Even inside, even at night, Mortimer is still fanning himself. He lifts his glass of whiskey to his lips. Draws in slowly. He doesn't drink like he used to, but the burn helps him get as much sleep as he can. The house is still.

“Why don't you go check on Averitt?”

Eleanor doesn't look up from her book; she just wants Mortimer to leave her in peace. He obliges. Takes the stairs carefully. The bones of the house are getting weak and he doesn't want to wake the boy.

The door is cracked slightly, a sliver of moonlight illuminates the hallway. Mortimer pokes his head in. Averitt's not in his bed. Mortimer coaxes the door open.

“Boy, get away from that wind--”

Braahnk.

The breath leaves his body. Cemented to the floor, his veins freeze.

Averitt tumbles out the window.

Life fills Mortimer's body once again. He runs to the window. With a thud, a shadow plops into the yard. It comes closer to his grandson.

Mortimer turns and runs for Eleanor.

“Eleanor, Eleanor! The Croaks are c--”

He makes it to the top of the steps and in his confusion trips. He tumbles, house slippers over head, down the stairs. With a crack, his skull meets the solid oak wall.

“Mortie!”

Eleanor drops her book and rushes to her husband. The trickle of blood slowly flows down the step.

She runs upstairs to find an empty room and an open window. She rushes to the window, scans the yard. Nothing.

ice water

“Drink up.”

Eleanor's neighbor passes her a glass of ice water. Hands still shaking, Eleanor accepts. Thankfully her neighbor has one of the few phones in town. Eleanor hurried over as fast as she could. The officer sitting across the table from the two wraps up the interview.

“We'll find Averitt. I promise. He's the second child this week to run away. For the time being, I suggest you stay here. When you're ready, we can help you prepare for Mortimer's funeral.”

submitted by /u/tyler6986 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2xDLIiX

[happymetalgeek]

STAGE 2

The Idol Dead

There’s nothing I admire more than seeing a upcoming group like event openers The Idol Dead tearing through a set like its Wembley stadium. Judging by the amount of people in attendance on this the smaller of the 2 stages this 5 piece have already gathered a healthy fan base with their energetic stage moves. “Clear lines” is a fine example of their punky attitude and is a major head rip roarer of a track and its over way too soon. With plenty of banter between artist and audience its the perfect curtain raiser to the weekend. With touches of The Cult, Motley Crue even the New York Dolls you couldn’t fail to raise a smile or be entertained.

Psychobabylon

The sleazemeter goes up a notch or two with the arrival of Psychobabylon with vocals reminiscent of Vince Neil. Pounding drums and some very tasty guitar work thrown in for good measure all add up to a promising prospect. Man mountain vocalist “Rusty D” is where the eyes and ears are at with a set of pipes finer than a church organ. He’s not afraid to peel off a couple of death growls when the group down tune their playing especially on the rampaging “Angels” which the group announce they may never have played this track live before, seriously this begs the question why? Because to my ears this is far and away the stand out moment from the set. “Love and War” sways, growls and grunts with a typical LA Guns vibe a moment when fists were firmly in the air Transmission Vamps “Baby I Don’t Care” is covered brilliantly and with a bit of spicing up it went down well and the crowd reaction proved this to be a good choice of cover.

Speed Stroke

Staying on the 2nd stage next up was Speed Stroke decked out in tight jeans, bandanas all topped up with masses of swirling hair and stage moves a plenty with dirty filthy sleazy riffs sums up why so many people have gathered around the stage. Sometimes frantic sometimes less frantic nothing was going to stop “Speed Stroke” not even a broken bass drum pedal 3 songs in. When the group really hit top gear is when they find their AC/DC groove. With heavy heart I had to cut the set short as I had to dash over to the main stage but with barely 3 minutes left to achieve this I had to say goodbye to a bunch of guys who are a breath of fresh air and although the weekend has just started with 19 acts to follow I may well have witnessed the band of the weekend.

  Coyote Mad Seeds

While many bands from all over the UK and further afield had rolled up to Sheffield to fill the air with rock and roll, Sheffield was not going to take this lying down, and to prove that point were three local lads taking the stage as Coyote Mad Seeds. And, boy did these guys show that Sheffield had what it takes to prove that Rock Ain’t Dead.  Even with an overlap with the Main stage, they held their own as quite a few punters thoroughly enjoyed a good, solid rock show as Joe, Chris and Rik fully earned the title of “Full Force Balls Out Rock ‘n’ Roll from Sheffield”. Pumping out good solid rock anthems like “Luck is For Losers” they energised a very receptive audience, endeared themselves as they ribbed each other and audience members before Joe came out onto the floor, ripping some solid riffs as he was provided some amber liquid refreshments. This was an entertaining fully engaged performance that left everyone feeling they had seen a rock show very worthy of being on the HRH stage.

  Honourable Mention – Senton Bombs

Four unabashed rockers took the stage to let everyone know what the Senton Bombs were about and produced a great set that brought more punk energy to rock and roll. While it would have been great to see the full set, there is no physical way to be in two places at the one time. Only a few brief moments allowed me to get a glimpse into what these guys were about. It was loud and it was good! More than enough to give this reviewer a stabbing pang of guilt more time could not be given to hear the full set.

MAIN STAGE

Midnite City

Over on the main stage was Midnite City and they have amassed enough interest to pack out the floor before them with a healthy sprinkle of support on the balcony. Not just a fine sleaze band but also respected for their melodic rock leanings. New single “Give Me Love” from their yet unreleased 2nd album goes down well and vocalist “Rob Wyldes” enthusiasm is evident as he dances and swings his arse all over the stage on this Bon Jovi sounding track. Personally watching “Midnite City” is the closest thing to heaven for me with Def Leppard licks, Danger Danger looks and Trixter moves, it sounds good and believe me it works perfectly. “Summer Of Our Lives” has always been a fan favourite and it comes over twice as good live than the studio version. The hour passes in a flash leaving a very contented hall behind them.

Last Great Dreamers

Standing centre stage with guitar slung low and a tasty look bowler hat on his head is the one and only Mark Valentine singer guitarist and all round entertainer, the band in question is The Last Great Dreamers a band with a chequered if long career who are receiving high praise indeed from wherever they perform. With a range of styles from 70s glam to green day infused riffs and The Wildhearts choruses the end result is lots of Dad dancing from the audience and people being grateful that miserable grunge has died a death. HRH have a radio station and “Sunshine” got to number 1 in the charts so lots of ‘thank you’ from Mr Valentine for the DJs that promoted the song. The track itself comes blasting out the speakers like a sonic boom and a small but friendly mosh pit coalesces in front of the stage. Special mention must go to Tigertailz bassist Berty Burton who was doing double shift this weekend but his duck walking antics on the stage even caught the attention of the miserable looking security guy and shock horror!! he smiled.

Wildheart

Imagine being placed in a time machine and transported back to 1984 (wouldn’t that be nice?) well Wildheart offer that opportunity for just the price of a concert ticket. Hailing from Belgium with a singer called Farty you would be fooled into thinking this is a million miles from the crazy Sunset Strip but be fooled no longer because this band is seriously the real deal. Talk about well thought out crafted songs with spine tingling riffs and elements of Dokken, Van Halen and Ratt you will get the picture. The confidence of these guys and the set is as tight as a drum. With the clock ticking down we get treated to Whitesnake’s Still Of The Night and a victorious full stop to a cracking live performance’

  Jetboy

The moment for me has arrived after waiting for 35 years to witness Jetboy another band on my ever shrinking bucket list is now well and truly ticked off. The group have never played these shores before and main man “Mickey Finn” is just buzzing in his Union Jack Rolling Stones T shirt and is visibly stunned to be in the UK. “Rock n Roller” gives the opportunity for the harmonica to appear and in comes the boogie woogie with enough electricity to supply a City the size of Sheffield. Not content with resting up its head first into the slide guitar of “Bullfrog Pond” and its insane grooves. With Jet Boy they have been given the opportunity to record a new album and we are treated to a preview of first single “Born To Fly” and if this is anything to go on then this album could be a monster. This is as good as a comeback track your likely to hear for a very long time. The bass heavy thunderous riff of “Heavy Chevy” offers a slight departure in the Jetboy style and just proves they aren’t a one trick pony. With Mickey Finn falling to his knees and shaking his head like he’s possessed. New track “Beating The Odds” produces a deafening roar from the speakers and serious riffage of the highest order. This isn’t sleaze this is pure unashamed METAL. No Jetboy gig can be wrapped up without “Feel The Shake” a mish mash of grinding hips and Angus Young inspired guitar work made this historic “I was there” moment all the better. Mickey Finn has won 2 awards this weekend one for best Mohican and the other award is the happiest man in Sheffield.

L.A. Guns

Attendance was roughly 3400 and most seemed to be here for L.A. Guns so with no further hanging around “Diary Of A Madman” acted as the intro music before “Devil Made Me Do It” hits us straight between the eyes, from the very start guitarist Tracii Guns is on fire ripping the living daylights out of his 6 strings this man is admired around the world for his ability and you can understand why. Drummer “Shane Fitzgibbon” is a powerhouse and this is evident on “Electric Gypsy” anything less than accomplished musicians would never be backing Phil Lewis. Fourth song in, and out comes the Jimmy Page inspired bow and under a lone spotlight Tracii Guns cuts a Zeppelin flavoured solo before merging with the moody “Over The Edge” If ever a title of a song reflects the speed of the song then its the ball crunching “Speed” which has to be most filthiest song played on this the first day. With the set progressing before my very eyes I am well aware that I’m just watching Tracii and paying no attention to anything else, the man is from another universe!! The song that has stood the test of time better than most is “Ballad Of Jayne” this is LA Guns career highlight whether they like it or not. Watching Phil Lewis is spine tingling as he just croons his way through to the end and it’s a pleasure to be a witness.

“Rip And Tear” draws day One to a fitting conclusion with the punters spilling out on the street and with those with any stamina left to enjoy the rock disco while the curtain falls on a manic but highly enjoyable day.

Review by Steve Bruty

Originally posted on Metal Planet Music

GIG REVIEW: @HRHSleaze Day 1 Delivers The Rock With @laguns, @jetboyrocks In Sheffield with @TheIdolDead ‏@Psychobabylon1 @thesentonbombs @LGDreamers @CoyoteMadSeeds #wildheart @SpeedStroke @centralpresspr @bluhorshu STAGE 2 The Idol Dead There’s nothing I admire more than seeing a upcoming group like event openers…

[musiclifeline13]

IF YOU'RE A STAND ATLANTIC FAN OR NEW TO THEM, PLEASE READ!

Let me tell you why I'm such a fan of Stand Atlantic.

Simply put, they are the most genuine people you'll ever meet.

On their latest tour opening for One Ok Rock and Waterparks, I contemplated flying from Alaska to Seattle to catch the last date. The show ended up selling out before I could get my ducks in a row and I unfortunately, missed out on tickets.

Due to being their fan for almost 2 years, I am kinda well known in their social media circle. I've covered every song off of their Sidewinder EP, Lavender Bones and currently working on a few others. That's how I caught their eye and got in too deep. They offered to let me play Coffee at Midnight with them whenever I come to a headlining show.

I ended up flying to my home state of Ohio in October to see them open on the Neck Deep US tour. After meeting them and talking about my guitar covers, we instantly became connected. This is where it gets, hectic.

Once they knew I wanted to fly to Seattle to only see them play (for a second time) something unreal ensued. I got a DM from bassist Miki Rich. He said the show had sold out, but if I were to make the trek from Alaska to Seattle, I'd have a guest list spot.

I know what you're thinking. Oh, she begged them and is a groupie. It's actually the exact opposite. I was looking at getting a ticket through third party sites or trying to find someone selling one. The thought of not even going came into my mind.

I was super hesitant to accept a guest list spot because things like that do not happen to people like me. I've never been handed anything in life, always working hard for what I get. This seemed too surreal. After exchanging a few messages, I humbly accepted the offer and started making plans.

After booking a plane ticket, hotel and rental car, I flew to Seattle a few days before the show.

(I did some touristy stuff within those few days prior, so I'll skip that.)

(The day of the show.)

I'm standing in line and the crowd stretches back for blocks and blocks. I've been there for about...mmm... 4 hours. I was chatting with a few One Ok Rock fans in front of me because they didn't know StAt and I gladly told them about the band.

A few short minutes after our conversation ended, front woman Bonnie and drummer Jonno came walking out of the venue.

They get about 10ft. in front of me and I shyly wave to Jonno. He notices me and Bonnie's face lit up. They both come in for a hug and say how it was so nice to see me again. After exchanging a few words, they continue on their walk.

The OOR fans I mentioned before were baffled that the band actually knows me. I told them it was because they genuinely love their fans and care so much about them.

(Skip to inside the venue.)

I ended up being about 20-ish feet from the barricade between a mix of OOR and Waterparks fans. (Yikes.) The lights dim and Country Roads starts playing. Here they come. Bonnie belts the first line of Coffee at Midnight and I'm belting it back.

The setlist (I forgot the order):

Coffee at Midnight

Speak Slow

Lost My Cool

Skinny Dipping

Bullfrog

Sidewinder

Lavender Bones

I couldn't believe Bullfrog was on the set list. Bonnie crowd surfed and I was pushed so close to her. She was inches in front of me and ended up grabbing my hand at one point.

(Skip to post-set.)

I ended up getting kind of claustrophobic and motion sickness from the crowd swaying me back and forth. So I headed to the merch table. As usual, I bought every piece of merch they had and two polaroid photos, signed by each of them. (Bc I'm StAt trash.)

The band comes over to meet fans and beeline for me. Miki, Jonno, Potter and Bonnie just kept saying how great it was to see me and was asking all about my trip. We took a few photos and I graciously stepped away to allow other fans to have their time.

During one OOR song, every band member from StAt and Waterparks joined onstage for some end of tour shenanigans. Kinda cool to see!

After the show Bon, Potter and Jonno were standing in the middle of the somewhat empty venue. I shyly walk to them.

We ended up talking for about 20-30min. about so many things. It felt like we were friends and that we had been for a very long time. They treated me like a person and joked around with me. They asked how my personal life in the military is and how much time I had left. (3 years. 😢)

I mentioned how I wanted to buy a bus and renovate it to tour America. I then joked about if they needed a bus driver to hit me up. They glanced at each other and actually seemed interested. I told them I had until August before I'm out of Alaska and how I'll be back in the lower 48, somewhere hopefully centralized.

I offered to buy them a meal in exchange for the guest list. They were interested. Unfortunately, they had a long drive back to California before they embarked on their EU/UK tour and had to decline.

Being that they are on the lineup for Sad Summer Fest. I told them I was gonna miss the Ohio date because I'll be there on vacation the month prior. Bon actually sounded like she wanted me there. Like, genuinely bummed about it. (However, I have now decided to try and alter my dates in an attempt to make it!)

We joked and laughed for a good while, before we eventually had to say our goodbyes. I gave them each one last hug and headed out. The night had ended as fast as it had started.

(I almost got locked INSIDE the venue... 🙃)

This ended up longer than planned, but I think it gives a clear concept of how much this band means to me. So down to Earth and really great dudes!

There's no doubt that they'll get pretty big if they keep up this pace. I hope that the world comes to love them as much as I do!

(If you made it to the end, thank you for taking the time to read this.

If you love StAt, same dude.

If you're new to them, welcome!)

🖤🖤🖤🖤

(Stream 'SKINNY DIPPING' by Stand Atlantic!)