Action Figure Daniel

Category: Writing

  • The Unprototypical Samuel

    When Samuel woke up that morning he didn’t expect anything unusual to happen. In fact, as he stepped out onto the welcome mat outside 4224 Rocky Overview drive he couldn’t even think of anything unusual that could happen. As he walked out onto the sandy beach just outside his door he stretched in the island sun. It was a good and quiet morning. Samuel looked up and down the street. Many of his neighbors were also standing on the beach looking as the ocean waves crashed on the shore. A few were even playing in the morning swells.

    Samuel ducked back inside to grab his breakfast. Eating breakfast on the beach watching the waves come in and out was one of his favorite things to do. Had he known what would happen to him he might have had something different for breakfast. As it was he didn’t know so he stuck with his normal breakfast of thick algae water, it works wonders on the body. Had he known that something unusual would happen to him he might have waved to neighbors. As it was he didn’t know so he didn’t wave to them.

    The sun rose and made the beach sand so hot that Samuel couldn’t stand on it anymore. He headed back into his house as did most of his neighbors. The tide rose all the morning and into the afternoon until it peaked at 3:35 in the afternoon. Samuel’s house was so close to the ocean and sometimes the tide was so high that some of the water spilled into his front door. Today was one of those days. When that happened Samuel simply took a nap and waited for the tide to go back. That is what he did today.

    His nap was a prototypical nap. When he woke up he couldn’t remember his dream, but it didn’t matter much because he was hungry. Samuel headed back to his front door to see how much water the tide had left. It wasn’t much but Samuel mopped it up anyway.

    Samuel once again stood on the beach outside his front door. He stretched as he wondered what he ought to do for the rest of the day. Had he known what was about to happen to him he might have packed up his house or at least some essential items. As he didn’t know he left everything where it was and prepared his lunch. Had he know what was to happen he might have called his mother. As he didn’t know he didn’t call her.

    Instead of doing any number of things that would have prepared him for any number of unusual things that might have happened Samuel decided that he would eat lunch, take a swim in the ocean and then start his evening with a bath. Perhaps the only slightly helpful item on his list was eating lunch. It is much easier to handle a variety of unusual things that might happen when you’re not hungry.

    Samuel began eating his lunch. It was the usual mixture of algae water and shell fish. Just after his third bite he was rudely interrupted by the thump at his door. He walked to the door and looked outside. No one was there. He went back to lunch. After a few more bites he was again rudely interrupted by a much louder thump at his door. Samuel again went to the door and looked outside. No one was there. Samuel went back to his lunch. He ate a few more bites before there was a third thump at his front door. This time it was so loud that it shook his whole house. When he reached the front door he ran onto the beach and looked around.

    He was all alone on the beach, the warm sand beneath his feet and the deep blue sky overhead.
    He turned around and saw the source of the thumping. Sitting on a ledge against the sand dunes was a full sized person. This was the beginning of the unusual things in Samuel’s life. It was unusual for a person to venture this far down the beach. It was unusual that the said person would stop and sit on the beach in this particular location. It was unusual that Samuel would be standing alone on the sand. All these things added together deserved further investigation.

    Samuel took one more look around. He was alone on the beach, just him and the person. He started to walk toward the person. Samuel was a curious crab by nature and so the many unusual events all happening at once more him so interested that he almost forgot that it was dangerous for crabs to run to people. In fact he had already ran halfway between his home and the person before he thought that it was look a little suspicious to have a small crab running to greet a person.

    Samuel stopped and grabbed a small shell lying nearby. He ran the shell through his mouth as if he was looking for food. He dropped the shell and ran some more only to stop again. This time he was feeling around a hole and noted that it could work for cover. These he had done just as a guise. His eyes remained locked with the person’s. They never blinked or veered but remained fixed.

    The tiny crab kept running toward the person. He starred into the deep soulful eyes. They seemed surprised, as they should be. It was unusual for crabs for run to people and the eyes could hardly believe that a crab would run to them instead of running away. The eyes watched as the crab ran and stopped, ran and stopped. They began to realize that the crab was running to their feet and though it pretended to be looking for food it really wasn’t. It was coming to talk, it was coming to say ‘hi’, it was coming to deliver a message.

    The crab stopped. The crab stopped a few feet away. The crab stopped a few feet away from the person.

    The person smiled at crab. The crab smiled at the person.

    The person lowered its head and Samuel looked away.

    When Samuel woke up that morning he didn’t expect anything unusual to happen. He hadn’t eaten something different for breakfast, he hadn’t waved to his neighbors, he hadn’t packed up his house, he hadn’t even called his mother. Samuel now knew that today was an unusual day and he wasn’t sure how to finish the day. He could go back to his house, back to his neighbors, back to his algae breakfast or he could move on.

    He looked again at the person as he tried to decide what to do. Then his mind was made up. He ran past the person and carried on down the beach. He left 4224 Rocky Overview drive behind and never looked back. He would find another house.

    When Samuel woke up the next morning he expected unusual things to happen.

  • Essence of Cherry

    He stretches his tongue out of his mouth and rubs it against his upper lip. His tongue is so dry that every bud on it feels like a glass bead falling into the cracks of his parched lips. For a place so moist and humid he never thought he could be so deprived of water. His tongue, being nearly useless, slips back into his dry mouth. The lick probably made his lips worse instead of better.

    Slowly he lies down on his back, the gravel digging into the back of his head. He wants to brush the gravel smooth but his hands are already so dry they ache. Getting them dusty would make them worse. Instead he just lays there shifting his head from side to side hoping the gravel will magically move or that he’ll find a more comfortable position.

    The dark, thick, heavy clouds are moving overhead. He breathes in the sweet air and is grateful that at least the air is not as dry as his swollen lips. The same wind that pushes the clouds also pushes on his cheek. It is a cool, dry wind so full of deceit; even as it cools his warm skin he can feel it pulling precious moisture out of his cheek. He turns his head to face the wind, the coolness is a relief on his flaming skin but in an instant any moisture his tongue had put on his lips is wicked away.

    He pulls his hood up around his face. It provides some protection from the cruel wind. Even through the thin fabric he can feel the sharp gravel rocks poking at his skull. Cloud after moisture laden cloud move through his view, none are willing to share their abundant water.

    He closes his eyes and fills his lungs once again with the sweet air. It smells like rain, that pleasant, sweet almost dusty scent. Somewhere, someone is getting rain. He hopes they are enjoying it while he is dying like a tropical plant in a dry desert.

    His eyes fly open. For one single, fleeting moment he felt the gentle tap of a tiny drop of water on his lip. The lip so relieved that it now ached at being reminded of what it has been missing. His eyes dart across the sky. There is no sign of more rain. The memory stayed with him though, like a fleeting kiss from a lover that will never be seen again.

    Minutes passed with no more moisture. The clouds continued to move along too proud and mighty to pay any attention to him. As the aching in his lip died down he began to question the moment. Maybe he just imagined it. Maybe his lip was tingling from a momentary lapse in circulation.

    The clouds were getting darker as they rolled over head. Instinctively he reached his tongue out once again, his lips so dry that his tongue had to push them apart. He dragged his tongue across his upper lip like sandpaper across rough stone. Once done pretending to deliver moisture to the upper lip the tongue navigated down to the lower lip.

    There was no pretense of moisturizing; the tongue was here to investigate the damage. He could feel the cracking and splitting, it was more extensive than it had been when he first laid down. But what was to be expected; at least there was no blood. But there was, it just took a minute for enough moisture from his tongue to raise the blood for a taste. The bitter, acidic taste of the blood repulsed him as he started to wonder if it were possible to bleed to death through one’s lips.

    He looked over to some nearby trees and began to wonder how much moisture he could get out of them, if they could possible sooth his aching body and bring much needed relief. The effort would be too much. The leaves were tiny and frail, the dry autumn winds had already started to pull the moisture from the leaves and the bark was sure to be dry.

    He looked back to the clouds, longing for just a few drops of their bounty. Still, they would not yield.

    He could hear the distant sound of thunder. Somewhere, someone was definitely getting rain. He pulled his hood tighter and slipped his hands into his pocket as he continued to watch the clouds go by. As his body settled he could feel more pieces of gravel digging into his flesh reminding him how uncomfortable he was.

    Then there was new pain, something being pushed into his thigh. He pulled his hand from the warm fleece pockets and pushed into his pants pocket. Deeper and deeper it went until it struck a small smooth cylinder. His finger wrapped around it and retreated from the pocket. His hand held the cylinder above his face for inspection. As his eyes stared at the small white cylinder a smile broke through his cracked lips, of all the things to have forgotten, why was it this one simple thing.

    He retrieved his other hand from the fleece pocket. Gripping the top and bottom of the cylinder he pulled splitting the cylinder in two to reveal a glossy pink substance. Deliverance had been in his pocket the whole time. His mouth cracked open as his hand guided the cylinder across his lips, first the top and then the bottom, then his lips closed again. Cap met body and the cylinder was carefully placed again in his pants pocket.

    The smile returned to his face as he rose and brushed off the dirt and gravel, all remnants of his recent brush with death. He looked back up at the dark, think clouds once more. There was no more longing in his look, he was satisfied and didn’t need their cruel teasing anymore. His tongue stretches out once again to rub his lips, but instead of blood he tastes the faint essence of cherry.

  • My Car Elazar: The 76th mile

    As my car’s odometer ticked closer to the 100,000 mile mark I contemplated all the ways I could push it over. Trips down to the Grand Canyon over to Las Vegas and Death Valley, up into Glacier National Park and just across the border into Canada, even a quick trip home and to the beach were each planned and discarded as time wouldn’t allow for such trips, not to mention there wasn’t enough money to support them. No, the mark would have to be passed in a more humble manner. A trip to Craters of the Moon National Park was planned for Saturday. It would be good and fun trip to push the mileage past the threshold. We would make it a day long trip. I would go with my roommates and whoever else wanted to go. The snow was almost gone and the trip promised to be mostly uneventful, driving wise anyway. We would pass through the barren desert lands of Idaho; past the old signs announcing and warning of possible “bio hazardous waste” for those who would wonder off the path. Then we would continue past the open farm lands and through the nuclear charged town of Akron. The trip would stop at Pickle’s Place where we would once again participate in the delectable offering that would be provided. Then we would celebrate having tripped the 100,000 mile mark by hiking through the caves, or at least trying too. All the mistakes of old would be overcome and we would be sure to bring plenty of flashlights , snacks and water. It would be perfect.

    It didn’t happen.

    Saturday came and the evil scourge of homework consumed most everyone’s schedule for most of the morning. I ran to the store, the one on the far side of town. It was two miles. I needed cereal and soap. Soap for the body, soap for the dishes, soap for the clothes. I returned home. Few else were awake. I ate breakfast. The co-valiant roommate came over and pleaded to go back to IF, the “big city”, “THE place to be”, Idaho Falls. His laptop’s power cable wasn’t working and IF the nearest place to get it replaced. This was the third time we had made this trip for this reason in the past six months. No one else could spend the normally boundless time to take him so I agreed. The time was set and we would leave in two hours. My roommate Steve was to go with us too.

    Before we made it to IF I made another trip to the store, this time for another neighbor. He needed food. It was the nearby store so it was only another mile. Finally we headed to IF. I noted how close I was to making the mark. There should be plenty of mileage to make it back to Rexburg without going over. There might still be a fun 100,000 trip yet. In IF we went to the shirt store to buy some shirts, a different story for another time. The cable store was just another couple of miles. We decide to have a well deserved lunch break from school, about three extra miles. Then it was time to go home. There was even enough extra mileage to go to the bonfire that night, it was Tonya’s birthday.

    Sunday morning came with 76 miles left before the big mark. 76 miles was barely enough to make out to Camas and back. I drove early that Sunday morning watching the volcanic Idaho landscape slide past. The wind was blowing really hard. Twenty miles into the trip snow joined the wind and started to complicate the travel. I pulled to the side of the road to analyze the situation. Looking to the north I saw that the storm would only get worse. I returned home and got ready for church.

    The church meetings themselves were good, though in between meeting I could see that the storm had followed me down from the north and was now pestering the small city of Rexburg. We had long ago determined that Rexburg was the headquarters of winter and thus it was the noble responsibility of every citizen to do what they could to expedite the coming of spring and end winter’s chilling rule. The storm, combined with the eagles and the snow, was a reminder that winter was not quite gone yet.

    Despite the storm I ran home. No sense in being out in the freezing wind. My roommates followed me home but needed to return to the chapel for another meeting. Normally, I would be fine with them walking but knowing the horrendous conditions outside I couldn’t stand the thought so I offered a ride. The drive back from Camas had taken longer than I thought, 74 miles to be exact. The trip to the chapel put me a mile closer.

    Once back home I started reading a book. It was rather enjoyable. My phone rang. The roommates were ready. I again bundled up and braved the cold to my car and drove back to the chapel. I look down and noted the new odometer number: 100000. I had hit the mark on my 76th mile for the day. They emerged out of the building and quickly piled into the car. With the windshield wipers trying to brush the snow away so I could see I headed back home smiling.

    I thought back at the adventures and trips I have had with Elazar, all the things we had seen and been too. We have had a good few years together and plan to have many more. My pondering was interrupted by my neighbor down the hall who had been offered a ride by my roommates.

    “Thank you,” he said, “you are a life saver.”

    “You’re welcome,” I replied. “You know what is most amazing about this?”

    “No, what?” he asked.

    “Elazar just hit his 100,000 mile,” I said still smiling.

    I love my car Elazar.

  • Spring Agony

    The stars were shining brightly on the moonless night. There was a warm breeze sifting through the green grass. He hesitated for a moment, he could wait for another night, in a week or two maybe. He shook his head causing the thought to fall to the ground beside his feet where he promptly stamped it out. He had promised it would be tonight and so, come heaven or hell, it would be tonight. He quietly retreated back into his house. The change was quick: the pants and underwear came off together in one quick push; the shirt was dragged across his chest then over his head.

    He walked over to the closet. He put on new underwear and the black shorts with the bold white stripe on either side that came with them. He selected the tight yellow and black jersey, gently pulling it over his head and back down his chest until finally it fit snugly into place. The tightness felt good on his body, like a reassuring hug that tonight was the night. He slipped on a pair of black and white socks; they too hugged him, but only up to his ankle where they stopped leaving his legs exposed until the black shorts started. He left the room being sure to grab the small black box from his desk before going.

    He sat down on the floor of the large open living room and retrieved his old gray shoes from against the wall and put them on while he stretched his legs one at a time. He noted how the shoes were still falling apart. He had done nothing to stop them, but half expect they would heal themselves. They didn’t. Not directly anyway. The right shoe still had the same tangent of fake leather pulling away his its loosened stitching that started on the first day he wore them. At least the damage wasn’t progressing. The wear points in the mesh however were a different story. They were slowly enlarging themselves as his toes rubbed against them.

    He pulled the strings pushing his flesh and bone together. He winced in pain for a moment before releasing some of the pressure. His foot thanked him as it expanded into the newly available space. With the string still tight in his fingers he crossed the two ends, right over-under left, then looped them back left over-under right pulling two loops to complete the knot. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to do this but he had promised. He ran his hands down his leg feeling the hair sift through his fingers and tickle his palm. He held his foot for an absent minded moment before letting go.

    He looked at the black box in his hand. It was quiet and lifeless in his hand. He slid the small pink switch on the top until all the color disappeared. Then, in an instant, the whole front on the thin black box lit up as if it was trying to share its excitement for being alive with the world. He grumbled at it for a moment, it was always too happy for such things. The actions he was about to take would lead to the starvation of thousands of innocent lives, but the little black box only smiled as it cheerfully played music.

    He slipped the small mood altering buds into his ears and let the hypnotic sound of the black box soak into his head. For this he both loved and hated the box. He still didn’t want to go. Not for all the pain that he would cause, all the suffering that would take place at his hands, not for any part of the whole experience. But, he promised and so he would. His checked his waist, there was no key. He walked back to the bedroom and retrieved his keys. He pushed his nail into the slit in the key ring separating it enough to push it over the other key ring. He spun the circle until it clicked, signaling it was free. He pushed the key between his skin and his elastic waist band. The key would be safe there.

    The tune in his ears changed from the calm steady beat to one of pulsing action. His heart started pumping in time with it, he had to go. He had put this moment off long enough and the time had come. He left the bedroom then out of the house being sure to lock the door behind him, he wanted no surprises when he got back. The pulsing in his ears was growing stronger and stronger until he finally yielded. His legs started moving in time with the beat.

    Left then right, left then right.

    The black box was doing its job, the job it always did well. That was what he loved about it. The tune changed again, this time to one of steady progression. He felt like he could conquer the world even if at a slow but steady pace. The hills had started and the tune was the perfect encouragement to continue his climb.

    Left then right, left then right.

    The air was colder atop the hill than he thought it would be. There was a wind blowing too. The cool air was filling his lungs and he gasped for breath. His body wasn’t used to this level of abuse. The few token attempts to prepare for this moment had long been forgotten. Blood raced through his veins trying desperately to warm his skin before the cold air whipped away all the heat. The contrast between the hot and cold lit his body on fire and his naked skin was burning. The black box did its job and the tune changed again to a happier one that drowned out the masses of cells crying in agony and pain.

    The race for his health at the expense of his own comfort had begun under the brightly shining stars on that moonless night.

  • The Promise of Eli

    Perhaps one of the most interesting animals in the entire zoo is Eli. He is not interesting because he is a rare exotic creature, which he is not. He is in fact a common donkey. No, he is interesting in the way he came to the zoo. Most animals at the zoo are either born here or are brought in by crate. Eli is the only animal to have arrived by falling out of the sky. No one is quite sure why he was in the sky or how he fell, just that he did. The old goose seems content to think that a stork was delivering Eli to his parents but got so tired of listening to him talk that he let go early and dropped the donkey in the zebra area at the zoo. While the zebras were at first quite impressed with Eli’s ability to talk they quickly found out that he really never stopped. Sometimes what he had to say was actually useful but more often it was rubbish about other animals, things that Eli really didn’t know and often just made up.

    Eli’s favorite animal to talk about was the old goose, the one who led the little goslings. He would spend hours without end teasing the old goose with such stories that the goose would chase him around and around until he got too tired to chase any more. It got so bad that the other animals would shoo Eli away if the old goose was around just so they wouldn’t get caught in the middle of the chase.

    One day Eli was being chased by the old goose for telling a story how the old goose had never set foot outside the zoo and made up all the things he told the goslings about the outside world. The two were running through Colletto’s pin when Eli noticed the goose wasn’t chasing him anymore. He hardly had time to think about it when suddenly he found himself stopped. William had been watching him run and pounced on him as he ran past his hiding spot.

    “Don’t eat me, don’t eat me” Eli cried. “Donkeys are no good to eat.”

    William looked at him curiously, “have you ever eaten a donkey?”

    “Well no, but…”

    “Then keep talking and I will tell you what they taste like.” Eli could tell that William was not at all happy. He could finally see why the goose had stopped chasing him. Colletto had stopped the goose as they ran through his pin. Colletto talked a little bit with the old goose before letting him go then he walked over the William who was still holding Eli to the ground.

    “What is this nonsense you were spreading about the old goose?” Colletto asked.

    Eli shifted on the ground casually trying to break free. He didn’t want to tell William what he had been saying about the goose. You see, the story he had been telling the other animals was about how the old goose had drained the penguin pool last night and flooded the beach the night before. Neither story was true of course, but Eli wanted so bad to tell people something that he made the stories up.

    “I’ve had enough,” said William. He and Colletto took Eli and headed to the open plains outside the zoo. Eli had never been to the open plains before, very few animals had. It was beyond the Baob Plains on the other side of the zoo wall. Eli was nervous and daren’t ask where they were going. He tried to make small talk but William and Colletto would shush him every time he started to speak. Finally they stopped walking.
    Eli was about to ask where they were but he quite forgot to. Instead of talking he just starred in front of himself. Two horns rose out of the grass. The horns were very, very far apart, and Eli began to think it must be attached to a huge animal. He was right. The wide horns sat squarely on a large head which was attached to a body that Eli had thought was a rock. Once the animal had risen Eli was shaking with fear. It was a bull, but with horn longer than any Eli had ever seen.

    “William,” the bull said. He spoke slowly and with great purpose, quite the opposite of Eli and had quick rolling words.

    “William, what brings you here to visit the Great Open Plains?”

    “Harrison, it is good to see you,” William said nearly as slowly as the bull. The slowness of their speech was killing Eli. He wished he could fast forward through it. But he was glad that he paid attention to the incredibly slow conversation.

    “My friend Eli needs your help, if you are willing,” William said. They all looked at Eli.

    “I think I am all better now, really I do,” Eli said nervously. In all honesty he wasn’t even sure what help he had needed but the thought of the giant Harrison helping him scared him so much that he was sure he could get over whatever it was that was wrong. “I know I have not been well, but I’m better now. Honest.” He looked to William, then Harrison and finally Colletto. None of them believed him.

    Harrison spoke, “I see what you mean.” He paused for a moment. “I think we can help him learn a lesson or two.”

    “Please, please, I will learn my lesson. I promise,” Eli said. He was now scared that William and Colletto would leave him alone with the longhorn bull and Eli would have no one to talk too.

    Colletto smiled, and then looked to Harrison, “I think he is finally ready. Be gentle, and help him learn his lesson.”

    Colletto and William started to walk away. Eli jumped to catch up with them but Harrison used one of his long horns to block Eli. Eli knew he had to stay and he almost began to cry as he watched William and Colletto walk out of sight.

    “Don’t worry,” Harrison spoke slowly, “your friends will come back in time.”