Good day, fellow travelers, and welcome to the 50th posting on the Blog. Just so you know, there are developments in my life that might lead to a regular posting schedule. Among those is this: a serialized novel. Just the latest draft of a story that has taken a few years to write and this time, I think I got it.
Of course, I might run this by you first. Publishing on a chapter-by-chapter basic will allow me to see if this draft is working. If overall response is negative, then I'll head back to the writing table. If the response is positive, then I'll know that I've succeeded this time. For now, I'll post the first chapter below and wait for your word.
What lays below is the first chapter of Life in Hyperion. This book I've been writing for a few years and now, I think it's done. This book is about strange goings-on in the small town of Hyperion, Michigan in the year 2009. I only hope it's good enough for you. So, without further ado, the first chapter of Life in Hyperion.
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Life in Hyperion, Chapter I
Chapter Title: "In The World's Mighty Gallery of Pictures... "
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In the city of Hyperion, Michigan, located within the borders of Van Buren County in the southwestern corner of the state, lays a building that houses the offices and studio of WHYP, broadcasting on FM 95.3 over a four-county radius for a distance of 50 miles all around. This station broadcasts over a variety format, allowing for many personalities and many forms of music.
On this bright and wonderful Monday morning as the sun makes its way up over the horizon, inside the WHYP building, inside the control room, an audio engineer oversee a live broadcast as a young man, dressed in a slightly faded green shirt and blue jeans, looks on.
The young man's face, topped with a covering of black hair, features greenish-blue eyes and a skin of blackish-brown all over. All this contribute an air of lackluster over his job that is average of someone his age and job status, as WHYP's lone intern, watching over those who broadcast on the air.
“Just another Monday morning.” says the man, whose name is Phil Turner, age 21.
“You got that right.” says the audio engineer.
Inside the studio itself, a medium-sized room, the walls covered in the foam that keeps echoes from bouncing off, are two people. One, name of Barry Wilkins, dressed in black pants, black shirt, and black leather jacket, is speaking into his microphone. The black theme continues to his head, covered in black hair and a general dark demeanor.
The other is Terry Gold, a young buck of about 26, listening to Barry make his remarks and making a few in-between. He is dressed in the same kind of clothing as Phil, but with a blue shirt and minus the freckles. His hair is the same color as Phil but his demeanor is different from Phil. As Phil continues to look on, another person enters the control room.
“Good morning, Phil.” says the person.
“Good morning yourself, Conrad.” says Phil.
The person is Conrad Harris, one of WHYP's other personalities. His dress is very notable, with a sweater vest, covered in a Cliff Huxtable-type pattern on it. The vest is paired with a white button shirt and black tie. The pants are tan dress pants, making an old-fashioned kind of outfit.
The hair is blonde, cut into a near-mod style and stranded into small lines. The demeanor is generally that of someone twice his age: 26. Everything else about him is very youthful, including his ability to work.
“I hope you're doing well this morning.” says Phil.
“I hope to be.” says Conrad.
“Even with your friend being what he is.” says Phil.
“It comes with the friendship, Phil.” says Conrad.
Just then, yet another person enters the control room.
“Good morning, everyone.” says the man.
His dress speaks volumes about him. His outfit is straight out of the 1970s, his favorite decade. An old army jacket, with the three stripes of a sergeant on the sleeves, surrounds a seventies-type button shirt with the open collar and the first two buttons undone. Blue jeans with the bell bottom flairs cover his bottom half.
A worn-out cowboy hat covers his reddish hair and his eyes are blue, all the same as his mother, whom he cherishes very much. All in all, his whole personality is the opposite of Conrad in many ways. That is the person that is named Cyrus McLean Scott.
“Good morning, Cy.” says Conrad, using Cyrus' preferred means of referring to himself.
“Good morning, Conrad, my friend.” says Cy in his usual voice, one-third New York, one-third his mother, and one-third Bugs Bunny.
“What's with you this morning, Cy?” asks Phil.
“The usual feelings that strike me on Monday morning. I'm just overly happy today.” says Cy.
“That's different than five minutes ago, giving yourself a pep talk.” says Conrad.
“I knew it wouldn't work.” says Cy.
“Then why did you do it?” asks Phil.
“On the off chance it might succeed.” says Cy.
“I guess it didn't succeed, Cy.” says Phil.
“That's been happening a lot lately. I don't know what's happening.” says Cy.
“Maybe you need a boost.” says Phil.
“I don't think that's it.” says Cy.
“Maybe you need to change a few habits.” says Conrad.
“Nice try, Conrad.” says Cy.
“It was worth a shot.” says Conrad.
“I hope this won't ruin the show today.” says Phil.
“I've been like this for the last week or so and I've hit the show out of the park every day.” says Cy.
“I guess I have nothing to worry about.” says Phil.
“As long as you stand in this room, you're alright.” says Cy.
“I know that.” says Phil.
“I feel as though you belong to us, not to everyone else.” says Cy.
“I have that feeling, too. I always feel I learn more from you.” says Phil.
“And not from those two in there?” asks Cy.
“Why can't you be friends with Barry and Terry?” asks Phil.
“Can you be friends with a hornet without getting stung?” says Cy.
“Still, you could make an effort.” says Conrad.
“I've decided not to.” says Cy.
“When?” asks Conrad.
“Just now.” says Cy.
“It's almost 9:00 am, you guys.” says Phil.
“Time to go on the air.” says Cy.
“And so, we conclude another day on the air. Tune in tomorrow for more of the WHYP Morning Show and stay tuned for the Cy & Conrad Show, coming up next!” says Barry as he signs off.
Barry and Terry soon put down their headphones and walk their way out of the studio, running into Cy and Conrad as they enter for their show.
“Hello, losers.” says Barry.
“Knock it off, Barry.” says Cy.
“You don't have a chance.” says Barry.
“Leave it alone, you don't wanna get him mad.” says Terry in a mocking tone.
“You lay off, as well.” says Cy.
“Come on, Terry, let's make our leave.” says Barry as he and Terry make their departure.
“He does that every time.” says Cy.
“And you fall for it every time.” says Conrad.
“I can't help it, Conrad.” says Cy.
“What would your mother say about that?” asks Conrad.
“The same things I would say.” says Cy.
“Just intro our show, will you?” asks Conrad as he and Cy don the headphones.
With a signal from the engineer, Cy and Conrad begin their show with the playing of their theme music, the theme to Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.
The audio engineer soon gives the signal and Cy speaks into the microphone, "Good morning, Hyperion and the surrounding area. This is Cy Scott, with his friend Conrad Harris, bringing you the Cy & Conrad Show for today, Monday, October 12th, 2009."
“Good morning, people. As Cy said, today is Monday, which means we have twice the work to do.” says Conrad.
“Don't say twice the work to our listeners.” says Cy.
“Oh, right.” says Conrad.
The hour that the show runs is spent discussing the unusual news stories that are floating around that day and music being played. The musical set list is covered in variety and is played as the mood strikes Cy or Conrad, but mainly Cy. Soon the end of the show comes at its usual pace.
“And so, we bid you good morning and ask you stay for Bob's Morning Jazz Cafe, coming up next. Until then, see you tomorrow!” says Cy as he signs off.
Cy and Conrad soon take off their headphones and make their way out of the studio, where they meet up with the next personality.
“Have a cool jive today.” says Bob as he walks by.
“Same to you.” says Cy.
“Nice show today.” says Phil.
“The only thing that keeps me going during my time of boredom.” says Cy.
“I hope you'll do good next week.” says Phil.
“Watch the jazzman.” says Cy as he makes his exit from the control room.
“I guess I better leave, too.” says Conrad, who then makes his leave.
Cy makes his way into the station's green room, a room a bit larger than the studio, with its walls painted a dull greenish color, leaving no mistake as to the room's purpose. Inside are lounge chairs, tables, and a pinball machine, which Cy makes his way over to and puts in a coin. As Cy begins playing, Conrad enters the room and sees his friend playing away with a contemptuous look on his face.
“Just playing some pinball, I see?” asks Conrad.
“Yes, that's what I'm doing.” says Cy.
“Doing well?” asks Conrad.
“As well as can be expected.” says Cy.
“Okay, what's wrong with you?” asks Conrad.
“I've already told you, I'm bored.” says Cy.
“You can't be that bored, Cy.” says Conrad.
“I didn't think so, either.” says Cy.
“So, how bored are you?” asks Conrad.
“What are you, a Match Game question?” says Cy.
“Just answer me, Cy.” says Conrad.
“I'm more bored than I've ever been in my life.” says Cy.
“That bored?” asks Conrad.
“More than anyone. I just can't get over it, how matter how hard I try.” says Cy.
“That is bored.” says Conrad.
“You better believe it, Conrad.” says Cy.
“You will get over it, Cy. Just you wait.” says Conrad.
“How long do I have to wait?” asks Cy.
“Hopefully, not long.” says Conrad.
“Hopefully, I'll get out of them before I die.” says Cy.
“Don't talk like that, Cy.” says Conrad.
“My parents had bouts of boredom. Of course, they could get over them.” says Cy.
“By auditioning for another project." says Conrad.
“That's what being an actor is about, unemployment interrupted by work.” says Cy.
“That's your opinion, not mine.” says Conrad.
“Let's keep it that way.” says Cy.
“Good morning, guys.” says a man as he enters the green room.
The man, in his mid-50s, is dressed in a beige leisure suit, with slick oiled black hair upon his head, a thick mustache on his face, along with tinted glasses and an oily demeanor. Just everything about him is oily like a Texas well. He is Mr. Gold, Terry's father, and the manager and owner of WHYP.
“Hello, Mr. Gold.” says Cy, still playing his game.
“Hello to you, Scott.” says Mr. Gold in his usual oily voice.
“What brings you to us, Mr. Gold?” asks Cy as he ends the game.
“I come here to bring some news.” says Mr. Gold.
“You're firing Barry and Terry at last?” says Cy.
“I came here to deliver the newest weekly ratings for WHYP.” says Mr. Gold.
“How many positions from the bottom are we?” asks Cy.
“This time, you're third from the top.” says Mr. Gold.
“And I assume Barry and Terry are on top?” asks Cy.
“You're right, number one again in the ratings.” says Mr. Gold.
“That's interesting. Last time, we were fourth from the top.” says Cy.
“You're going up.” says Mr. Gold.
“But for how long?” asks Cy.
“Cut the game, Scott.” says Mr. Gold.
“We know that your son's Terry and that you run the ratings service that does WHYP.” says Cy.
“You, accuse me of forging ratings, when I have a third party to oversee the ratings sample. So, take your ratings with pride.” says Mr. Gold, who then leaves the room.
“He actually thinks we're bottom of the barrel and Barry and Terry cream of the crop.” says Cy.
“We might be, Cy. Ever thought of that?” says Conrad.
“It does bug me.” says Cy.
“You can't prove that Mr. Gold rigs the ratings. Besides, he does have a third-party oversee the sample, so they can't be rigged.” says Conrad.
“I'll prove it, one of these days.” says Cy.
Later that day, Cy is sitting in his easy chair in the living room of his home. The living room is a room, covered in pictures from his mother and his father's career. The biggest thing in the room is the large painting of Cy's mother, over the fireplace. Right under the picture itself is a silver-and-blue urn that contains his mother’s ashes.
As Cy is busy reading a book, he hears the front door open. The second it closes, Cy knows by heart who has entered the house. It is Joanne Shulman, Cy’s live-in girlfriend. Her appearance is of a woman in her late 20s, with curly black hair, piled on her head, wearing a gingham dress with knee-length skirt.
Her figure is slightly pudgy but her beauty makes one look past that aspect of her appearance. As she enters the living room, she spies the body of Cy, reading. She just stands there, looking silently at him. After several seconds of staring, Cy finally decides to ask.
“What are you doing?” asks Cy.
“I’m just looking at you.” says Joanne.
“What on earth for?” asks Cy.
“Because I just want to.” says Joanne.
“Maybe I don’t wanna be stared at.” says Cy.
“Tough. I’m going to.” says Joanne.
“Then I’ll move.” says Cy, getting out of the easy chair.
“I’ll just follow you.” says Joanne as she moves an inch.
“I just can’t get rid of ya.” says Cy.
“Believe it.” says Joanne.
“I know I can.” says Cy.
“So, how was your day?” asks Joanne.
“As well as I can do. I mean, Mondays are always hard for me.” says Cy.
“I, myself, had the same kind of day. I decided to give my class their first pop quiz.” says Joanne.
“How well did they do?” asks Cy.
“I won’t know until I grade the tests, which are in my bag.” says Joanne, pointing to her purse.
“Well, you better get right on those.” says Cy.
“That’s what I’m planning to do.” says Joanne.
“I’ll start dinner.” says Cy.
“Good for you.” says Joanne.
As the early morning sun rises over Hyperion, Cy lays asleep in his easy chair, which doubles as his bed. As he snores, Joanne, wearing a silk nightgown, enters the living room.
Joanne quietly walks over to the sleeping Cy and stares at him for a minute before sticking her fingers in his nose. The lack of air brings Cy out of his slumber with a jolt, arms moving around as he searches around for something.
“Hello, Joanne.” says Cy as he locks his eyes on her.
“Good morning, Cy.” says Joanne in a cheerful voice.
“Shouldn't you be at school by now?” asks Cy.
“I thought I would awaken you before I got dressed and left.” says Joanne.
“Well, now you have.” says Cy.
“Don't you wanna talk to me?” asks Joanne.
“What about?” asks Cy.
“How about the fact that you sleep in here and I sleep in the bedroom alone.” says Joanne.
“Oh, that again.” says Cy, getting out of his chair.
“Since we’ve moved in here, I've spent my nights alone. I thought the point of this was to spend more time together.” says Joanne.
“And we are.” says Cy.
“Do me a favor.” says Joanne.
“Yes, dear?” says Cy.
“Please sleep with me tonight.” says Joanne.
“Just sleep?” asks Cy.
“Is that why you're not in the same bed as me, because you don't wanna have sex?” asks Joanne.
“I know we've done it before.” says Cy.
“So, let's just spend a night in the same bed.” says Joanne.
“And if the mood strikes me?” asks Cy.
“I'll follow your lead.” says Joanne.
“What if I knock you up?” says Cy.
“What makes you think that'll happen?” asks Joanne.
“Remember how I came into this world.” says Cy as Joanne gives him a kiss.
In the green room of WHYP, Conrad sits at the green room table, writing in a gift card with a pen. As Conrad finishes writing, Cy enters the room with a grin on his face.
“Good morning, Conrad, my bentest friend in the whole wide world.” says Cy.
“Good morning, Cy.” says Conrad.
“What are you doing?” asks Cy.
“Writing something in a birthday card.” says Conrad.
“Who for?” asks Cy as he walks over to the table.
“My sister.” says Conrad.
“That's right. She turns 30 tomorrow.” says Cy.
“My older sister.” says Conrad.
“Let me see what you wrote." says Cy, who then picks up the card and reads what Conrad wrote, "'D' stands for delightful, 'D' stands for de-lovely, 'D' stands for daughter, 'D' stands for Darlene. Your favorite brother, Conrad.”
“You like it?” asks Conrad.
“To quote my mother, 'D' also stands for ding-a-ling. Why don't you put that down?” says Cy.
“I think it's a sweet thought.” says Conrad.
“Conrad, you are her only sibling.” says Cy.
“It's the thought that counts.” says Conrad.
“If that were true, you wouldn't even buy this card.” says Cy.
“Did you buy your mother a birthday card?” asks Conrad.
“A few, but that's not the point.” says Cy.
“Can't you be happy for this?” asks Conrad.
“I could, if I wanted your sister to have a happy birthday.” says Cy.
“I know you two don't get along, but can't you be happy just this once?” says Conrad.
“I wish I could, but I just can't see myself up to it.” says Cy.
“I thought your mother taught you not to judge people.” says Conrad.
“With your sister, I made an exception because how can you not judge her after five minutes in the same room with her.” says Cy.
“My sister's a nice girl.” says Conrad.
“She's an iceberg, nice and cold.” says Cy.
“She's not that at all.” says Conrad.
“Really? I wouldn't send her that card. It's hard to have a happy birthday when the total number of cards is one or zero.” says Cy.
“Will you at least put your name to the card?” asks Conrad.
“Why should I?” asks Cy.
“Because I feel you should.” says Conrad.
“I should? I think you need your brain checked.” says Cy.
“Please sign the card.” says Conrad.
“Alright, if it will get you to shut up about it.” says Cy, who then takes a pen from one of his front pockets and signs the card.
“Thanks, Cy. I'm sure Darlene will enjoy it.” says Conrad as he leaves the green room as Phil enters.
“Good morning, Cy.” says Phil.
“What's it to ya?” asks Cy.
“What's with you, Cy?” asks Phil.
“It's Conrad. It's his sister's birthday tomorrow.” says Cy.
“Another year for the iceberg.” says Phil.
“Conrad has decided to give her a birthday card and he forced me to sign it.” says Cy.
“Darlene can't be all bad.” says Phil.
“You haven't known her as long as I have.” says Cy.
“I guess I haven't.” says Phil.
“I knew her since I first met Conrad when he and his family moved to New York around the same time me and my mother did.” says Cy.
“How was she then?” asks Phil.
“She grew cold as she lived in New York. The opera, library, and museums were her favorite haunts.” says Cy.
“I guess that left little time for friends.” says Phil.
“Very little, both in friends and time. In fact, she doesn't really have a single friend now, besides Conrad.” says Cy.
“We could be called her friends.” says Phil.
“By virtue only of our friendship with Conrad. She has no friends that she has made.” says Cy.
“I guess that would make someone lonely.” says Phil.
“Being an iceberg and a lady of Victorian values, it's hard to open up to people without, in her mind, breaking several social codes.” says Cy.
“Maybe she'll warm up this year.” says Phil.
“Not even global warming could melt that iceberg of a person.” says Cy.
“Maybe if you try really hard... “ says Phil.
“I don't need to, and I won't.” says Cy.
“Well, maybe you can give her something.” says Phil.
“I'll get her the same thing I always get her and that's it.” says Cy.
“That, every year, keeps getting useless.” says Phil.
“One day, it will work, just you see.” says Cy.
“I hope so. Say, did you get a good night's sleep?” asks Phil.
“Good as usual. Well, my sleep was normal, except for how it ended.” says Cy.
“Do tell.” says Phil as he pours himself a cup of coffee.
“Joanne woke me up this morning and said that we should start sleeping in the same bed together.” says Cy.
“That's not a bad idea.” says Phil as he takes a sip.
“We've slept before, but those were one-time things, planned moments of passion. If the mood were to strike me in the middle of the night, I'd have to deal with it.” says Cy.
“Like what?” asks Phil.
“A pregnancy, for one.” says Cy.
“There's nothing wrong with you as a father.” says Phil.
“I had never really had one, so how can I do well without something to base it on?” says Cy.
“You'll learn.” says Phil as Cy gets out of the chair.
“Joanne wants me to sleep with her tonight. I just wonder if I'm ready.” says Cy.
“Joanne loves you and you love her, and whatever happens will happen.” says Phil.
“Thanks, Phil.” says Cy.
Just then, Conrad comes back into the room, the birthday card now sealed in a large envelope.
“Good morning, Phil.” says Conrad.
“Good morning, Conrad. Cy was just telling me that your sister's birthday is tomorrow.” says Phil.
“I know, and I have an idea on how we can help her celebrate.” says Conrad.
“And what idea would that be?” asks Cy.
“A surprise party.” says Conrad.
“That's a good idea. She'll really be surprised by the lack of people there.” says Cy.
“There'll be people there.” says Conrad.
“If you think you can sucker me and Phil into attending, you're nuts.” says Cy.
“Please, do it for me.” says Conrad.
“I signed that card for you. Don't push what little luck you have.” says Cy.
“It would help, if what you say is true.” says Conrad.
“I know what I say is true, but that doesn't mean I should do something about it.” says Cy.
“Do it then for your mother, who would make you do it.” says Conrad.
“If only on my mother's late soul I do this, I accept.” says Cy.
“I better go along, too, if my threat is the loss of my job.” says Phil.
“Then we have three people to attend my sister's 30th birthday party. I'll see you there.” says Conrad, who then leaves the room.
“What would your mother say if she were around to hear you talk about Darlene?” asks Phil.
“I talked like that about Darlene in my mother's presence and she told me that all people have the ability to be human, just that some don't have the ability to use it.” says Cy.
“Smart woman, she was.” says Phil.
“Don't I know it?” says Cy.
Later that day, inside his apartment, Conrad is sitted in a easy chair, reading the local paper. After a while, he lowers the paper to see if anyone is around. When he feels alone, he puts the paper down and gets out of the chair. He then tiptoes to a closet. Carefully, he opens the door and pulls out an instrument case and walks back over to his easy chair.
He opens the case, revealing a banjo, which he gets out and climbs back into the easy chair with it. Conrad then puts banjo picks on his fingers from the case and then starts doing a banjo roll. The roll soon turns into a song and the song soon gains its lyrics.
"Come gather round, my children, this story I will tell, about Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well." sings Conrad.
As Conrad continues to play, a woman opens the front door and walks into the house. It is Conrad's sister Darlene, dressed in her usual outfit: a heavily-buttoned blouse, with a long, lacey skirt, which reaches the floor. Her hair, a near henna in color, is pulled into a tight bun, revealing a face, typically void of emotion or personality.
Hearing the banjo music, she closes the door carefully behind her and walks slowly into the apartment itself, where Conrad is singing his heart out. As Conrad sings the words, Darlene listens onwards. The lyrics don't make her happy, as they often do, but brings a tear to her eye, which runs its way down her face at the bridge. When Conrad finishes his tune, Darlene gives him applause.
“Darlene, when did you get in?” asks Conrad.
“About the time you started on the second verse.” says Darlene.
“I'm sorry that my playing upset you.” says Conrad.
“Why can't you play something a little more up-scale, instead of that poor-man's excuse?” says Darlene.
“I happen to enjoy it. It gets me out of being bored.” says Conrad.
“There's no such thing, my brother.” says Darlene.
“Well, I know they exist.” says Conrad.
“You've got to stop listening to that Cyrus.” says Darlene.
“Why not? He has great ideas.” says Conrad.
“Let us not discuss it, my brother.” says Darlene.
“Listen, why are you here early? I thought you wouldn't be here until 5:00 pm.” says Conrad.
“The chief librarian actually let me off early. He thinks I actually need it.” says Darlene.
“Well, after your age limit idea, I'm inclined to believe him.” says Conrad.
“The library is no place for three-year-olds.” says Darlene.
“Then how will three-year-olds learn reading?” asks Conrad.
“From their parents, of course.” says Darlene.
“Of course, why not?” says Conrad.
“My brother, why did you ask me here today?” asks Darlene.
“To give you this.” says Conrad, plucking an envelope from behind the chair.
“Oh, another birthday card.” says Darlene.
“You could at least be happy for me.” says Conrad.
Darlene then flashes a bad smile at Conrad, which causes him to finch a bit as Darlene opens the envelope and the card.
“I am your only sibling, my brother.” says Darlene.
“That's what Cy said.” says Conrad.
“I'm beginning to not like anything Cyrus has said.” says Darlene.
“Darlene, could you knock off early again tomorrow?” asks Conrad.
“You are not throwing another party for me, are you, my brother?” asks Darlene.
“Of course not. I just want you to enjoy your birthday.” says Conrad.
“I enjoy it enough, my brother.” says Darlene.
“Do it for me, Darlene.” says Conrad.
“Alright, if it will help you, my brother.” says Darlene.
That night, at Cy's house, Joanne is inside the bedroom, dressed in her nightgown, preparing the bed for sleep. Meanwhile, Cy, dressed in his usual outfit, enters the room.
“Cy Scott, reporting for bed.” says Cy.
“This isn't a military exercise, it's two people sleeping together in the same bed.” says Joanne.
“Let's just get this over with.” says Cy.
“You're in a bad mood today.” says Joanne.
“You wouldn't believe it, Joanne.” says Cy.
“Try me.” says Joanne.
“Well, tomorrow is Darlene’s birthday. That’s Conrad’s sister.” says Cy.
“Go on.” says Joanne.
“Anyway, Conrad has decided to throw a party in her honor. Now, those things don’t go too well.” says Cy.
“Why not?” asks Joanne.
“Because Darlene is a human iceberg. Frozen solid, with no emotions and no real awareness of the world at large.” says Cy.
“Is that true?” asks Joanne.
“Believe it. She’s been that way since I met her.” says Cy.
“Ever since?” says Joanne.
“Well, when I first met her, she had a little ice. Over time, she just froze right up.” says Cy.
“Maybe she’ll warm up one day.” says Joanne.
“She’s turning thirty tomorrow. I don’t think it’ll happen.” says Cy.
“Okay, now, Cy. Into bed.” says Joanne.
“Here goes.” says Cy as he gets into bed and finds himself pressed up against Joanne.
“Don't sleep so close to me.” says Joanne.
“Joanne, I'm afraid to tell you that this bed is a single-person one.” says Cy.
“I think I see why you sleep in that chair.” says Joanne.
“Shall I go to it?” asks Cy.
“No, stay here. We'll make it work tonight.” says Joanne.
The next day, as the morning sun rises, Joanne’s mind is filled with a happy dream. As the alarm clock rings out, she stirs from her slumber and fills around for Cy. However, she can’t find him. She looks around a little and spots him when she looks down on the floor by the bed.
“What are you doing down there?” asks Joanne, which wakes up Cy.
“Doing where?” asks Cy back.
“I mean, why are you on the floor?” asks Joanne.
“I guess I fell off the bed.” says Cy.
“Are you hurt?” asks Joanne.
“I guess not. I’m having a find sleep.” says Cy.
“If you fell out of bed, how come you didn’t make a noise?” says Joanne.
“I guess I was that sound asleep when it happened. Besides, there’s more room on the floor than that bed.” says Cy.
“Shall we try again tonight?” asks Joanne.
“Joanne, I’m gonna go back to my easy chair, like it or not.” says Cy, who then gets off the floor and leaves the room.
Some time later, Cy makes his way into the green room. As he enters the green room, Phil is pouring a cup of coffee.
“Happy hump day, Cy.” says Phil.
“Right back at'cha.” says Cy, sitting himself down in a chair.
“What's with you today?” asks Phil, taking a sip of his coffee.
“I had the worst night so far.” says Cy.
“I take it that your night with Joanne didn't go well.” says Phil.
“Well, Joanne had forgotten that the bed was single occupancy.” says Cy.
“Enough said.” says Phil.
“For the first time in my life, I felt like a sardine in the can.” says Cy.
“I get the point.” says Phil.
“Good morning, you two.” says Conrad, entering the room.
“Don’t be so happy. I just had quite the night. Me and Joanne slept in a one-person bed.” says Cy.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what today is.” says Conrad.
“I haven’t forgotten. The 30th birthday of the human iceberg.” says Cy.
“Don't you start on my sister.” says Conrad.
“30 years on this globe and nary a friend to help you in the birthday count.” says Cy.
“Don't forget about the party today.” says Conrad.
“You can forget about me being there today.” says Cy.
“You gotta be there for Darlene.” says Conrad.
“Not after what she did to me yesterday.” says Cy.
“Remember, the party is to start at 2:00 pm.” says Conrad.
“Isn't that when your sister works?” asks Cy.
“I managed to convince her to knock off work early.” says Conrad.
“How did you manage to swing that with the iceberg?” asks Cy.
“I talked her into observing the occasion.” says Conrad.
“Without tipping her off?” says Cy.
“I even told her that I wasn't gonna put on a party.” says Conrad.
“I'd like to see her actually surprised, even though it won't work.” says Cy.
“It will, just wait and see.” says Conrad.
“That's what you said last year, and it wasn't true then, and isn't now.” says Cy.
Cy and Conrad's show soon comes and goes and the two make their way to Darlene and Conrad's house at about 1:30 pm. As they walk inside the house, they notice that Darlene isn't in sight.
“Well, she's not here, yet.” says Cy.
“Just as planned.” says Conrad.
“She could be hiding in the house, waiting to surprise us and foil your plans like the iceberg she happens to be.” says Cy as he hangs up his jacket on a holder next to the door..
“Don't talk like that about my sister on her birthday.” says Conrad.
“She's not here to hear it, is she?” says Cy.
“And did you have to buy your usual gift?” says Conrad, pointing to the thing in Cy's hands: a bottle of Jack Daniels Whiskey with a ribbon tied around the neck.
“I've been doing it for the last five of them, you should be used to it by now.” says Cy.
“Break with tradition today, for once.” says Conrad.
“It helps to break the ice, around the iceberg, so to speak.” says Cy.
“Cy, my sister's not a drinker and never will be.” says Conrad.
“One of these birthdays, my gift will be welcomed.” says Cy.
“It hasn't for four birthdays in a row and will never work.” says Conrad.
“Give it time.” says Cy.
“I hope this time Darlene throws it out.” says Conrad.
“Hello, guys.” says Joanne as she walks into the house.
“You got Joanne to participate in this?” says Cy.
“I thought it would prove you wrong about Darlene not having any friends.” says Conrad.
“Joanne has never met Darlene and I was set that it would never happened.” says Cy.
“Cy, you would dare not to allow me the pleasure of meeting your best friend's sibling?” says Joanne.
“Joanne, you don't know Darlene the iceberg the way I do.” says Cy.
“I think I'll see that for myself.” says Joanne.
“Say, how did you get out of school this early?” asks Cy.
“I simply left, but not before getting one of the other teachers to sub for me.” says Joanne.
“Tell me, did you invite anymore of our friends to this?” asks Cy.
“You forget about Phil.” says Conrad.
“And here I am.” says Phil as he enters the house.
“I can't believe you actually showed up.” says Cy.
“Me, neither, and I can't believe Conrad invited Joanne here, too.” says Phil.
“Has the iceberg arrived yet, Cy?” asks Phil.
“No, and you better hope she isn't behind any of the furniture.” says Cy.
“She would popped up by now.” says Phil.
“Cy, Phil, please lay off those jokes.” says Conrad.
“Okay, but only for Conrad.” says Cy.
“C'mon, let's hide and wait for Darlene.” says Conrad.
Conrad, Phil, Cy, and Joanne soon disperse to various areas of the living room to hide behind. Cy walks around for a bit and sees Joanne duck behind a sofa. Cy then walks over and hides behind the sofa, as well.
“Nice to see we can share a hiding place.” says Joanne.
“Yes, but it won't be a hiding place before long.” says Cy.
“I know that, Cy.” says Joanne.
“I mean, hiding won't work. Darlene probably knows we're all here already.” says Cy.
“How can she know that?” asks Joanne.
“Because she's an iceberg, cold and unfeeling. She gets through by knowing what people are doing. She has never been surprised in her life for that is the response of a warm human being, not an iceberg.” says Cy.
“She had to be warm at some point.” says Joanne.
“I never knew that time. By the time I first met Darlene, the ice had started to form and it formed quickly.” says Cy.
“No one is that cold.” says Joanne.
“Darlene is. That's why every year, I get her a bottle of whiskey, in the hopes that she'll drink it, warm up, and melt all that ice.” says Cy.
“I see she hasn't drank any of it.” says Joanne.
“She's a tea-toller to the max. She thinks the invention of beer by early man was a wrong move, even if it did lead to civilization.” says Cy.
“Maybe Darlene will be warm today.” says Joanne.
“Oh, no. I bet you ten bucks that when she comes through that door, she'll ask all of us to come out of hiding.” says Cy.
“She wouldn't say that.” says Joanne.
“Don't underestimate the iceberg.” says Cy.
2:00 pm arrives and the footsteps of Darlene are heard coming up the walk.
“Alright, everyone, be quiet.” whispers Conrad to everyone.
“He's so naive.” says Cy.
“Nice to see we can share a hiding place.” says Joanne.
“Yes, but it won't be a hiding place before long.” says Cy.
“I know that, Cy.” says Joanne.
“I mean, hiding won't work. Darlene probably knows we're all here already.” says Cy.
“How can she know that?” asks Joanne.
“Because she's an iceberg, cold and unfeeling. She gets through by knowing what people are doing. She has never been surprised in her life for that is the response of a warm human being, not an iceberg.” says Cy.
“She had to be warm at some point.” says Joanne.
“I never knew that time. By the time I first met Darlene, the ice had started to form and it formed quickly.” says Cy.
“No one is that cold.” says Joanne.
“Darlene is. That's why every year, I get her a bottle of whiskey, in the hopes that she'll drink it, warm up, and melt all that ice.” says Cy.
“I see she hasn't drank any of it.” says Joanne.
“She's a tea-toller to the max. She thinks the invention of beer by early man was a wrong move, even if it did lead to civilization.” says Cy.
“Maybe Darlene will be warm today.” says Joanne.
“Oh, no. I bet you ten bucks that when she comes through that door, she'll ask all of us to come out of hiding.” says Cy.
“She wouldn't say that.” says Joanne.
“Don't underestimate the iceberg.” says Cy.
2:00 pm arrives and the footsteps of Darlene are heard coming up the walk.
“Alright, everyone, be quiet.” whispers Conrad to everyone.
“He's so naive.” says Cy.
“You're right, Darlene.” says Cy.
“You admit it?” asks Darlene.
“No, you're not even a person in my mind.” says Cy.
“What would your mother say if she heard you slander me like that?” asks Darlene.
“Luckily, my mother ain't here to hear it.” says Cy.
“And for once, I wish you would use the English language correctly.” says Darlene.
“I uses it the best that I cans.” says Cy.
“Stop it, or I'll throw you out of my house.” says Darlene.
“While your brother and my best friend is here?” asks Cy.
“I hate it when you win one over me.” says Darlene.
“All that hot anger doesn't melt that ice.” says Cy.
“You two, for once, can you put aside the arguments?” asks Conrad.
“I guess so, if Darlene will.” says Cy.
“I promise, my brother.” says Darlene.
“She hasn't referred to her brother by his name in 15 years.” whispers Cy to Joanne.
“He knows who he is.” says Darlene.
“I wouldn't hurt to refer to your sibling by the name his parents gave him.” says Cy.
“Is that the same with you, Cyrus McLean Scott?” asks Darlene.
“I was named after two great people in my mother's life.” says Cy.
“Guys, let's stop the fight now.” says Conrad.
“Okay, my brother.” says Darlene.
“Right-o, Conrad.” says Cy.
“So, Darlene, how old are you?” asks Phil.
“I am 30 years of age as of this day.” says Darlene coldly.
“I turned 21 myself only three months ago and I still feel like a different person. I still remember taking my first sip of beer.” says Phil.
“Bought for you by Cyrus, no doubt.” says Darlene.
“There's another reason I don't like her. She always calls me Cyrus.” says Cy.
“But that is your name.” says Darlene.
“I prefer Cy. It's what my mother called me.” says Cy.
“Darlene, it's so nice to finally meet you.” says Joanne.
“And who are you?” asks Darlene.
“I'm Joanne Shulman. I'm Cy's girlfriend.” says Joanne.
“I didn't realize Cyrus was in any kind of a relationship.” says Darlene.
“I can get myself a girlfriend once in a while.” says Cy.
“The way I see it, Cyrus, I still can't believe any right-thinking woman would have anything to do with you.” says Darlene.
“Are you saying my girlfriend's a loony?” asks Cy.
“I believe so, Cyrus, but not in those words.” says Darlene.
“She is cold, Cy.” says Joanne.
“I warned you, didn't I?” says Cy.
“What's wrong with what I said?” asks Darlene.
“I can't believe that you would even asked that question. You actually believe that I should go through life alone.” says Cy.
“Not alone, Cyrus. Just that you should shape up so you can settle down with someone.” says Darlene.
“My mother didn't wait to settle down and I can do the same.” says Cy.
“Who cares what your mother did?” asks Darlene.
“Darlene, you are the coldest thing on this planet. If Al Gore looked at you, he'd stopped talking about global warming because it doesn't work on you.” says Cy.
“Is that so, Cyrus?” asks Darlene.
“My name is Cy and I would like you to call me that.” says Cy.
“I see you brought your usual gift again.” says Darlene, pointing to the bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“This is the fifth bottle I've gotten you, in the hopes that you drink this and it would melt the ice.” says Cy.
“I'll never drink.” says Darlene.
“That's what you keep saying and I keep hoping it doesn't come true.” says Cy.
“Why do keep holding on to such an idea?” asks Darlene.
“Because I believe that there's a warm human being hidden under all of that ice and if something would melt that ice, maybe you'd actually have friends.” says Cy.
“Cyrus, you are a dreamer, just like your mother.” says Darlene.
“She was not a dreamer and neither am I.” says Cy.
“Really, Cyrus?” asks Darlene.
“I know I'm not a dreamer.” says Cy.
“And how do you know that?” asks Darlene.
“Because I'm not a self-serving, cold-as-ice, tough-as-nails, human iceberg, who has absolutely not a single drop of humanity within her, and who is practically dead inside!” says Cy.
For a brief moment, Darlene feels some emotion. Rather than give into human emotions, Darlene thinks away the brief moment as she takes in what Cy has just said to her. Calming, Darlene quickly makes her way up the stairs, as the assembled party guests look on with awe.
“Darlene!” shouts Conrad.
“Calm down, Conrad.” says Cy.
“Calm down? You've just hurt my sister!” says Conrad.
“You don't know what's going on.” says Cy.
“Oh, yes I do. You've done something to my sister.” says Conrad.
“I didn't think you could hurt an iceberg, unless you're an icebreaker.” says Cy.
“Well, Cy, if that's true, then that's what you are.” says Conrad
“You're worrying your head off over nothing.” says Cy.
“And you're not doing anything to help.” says Conrad.
“Conrad, you're overreacting.” says Cy.
“And you're under reacting.” says Conrad.
“Conrad, I've had enough of this.” says Cy.
“And I've had enough of your attitude towards my sister.” says Conrad, who then storms his way out of the house.
“I've never seen Conrad like that before.” says Phil.
“Well, he's never seen his sister in this shape before.” says Cy.
“You mind if I leave?” asks Phil.
“You mad at me, too?” asks Cy.
“No. I have to get back to work.” says Phil.
“I release from your duties. See you at work tomorrow.” says Cy.
“Thanks.” says Phil, who then departs.
“You got anything else to do tonight?” asks Cy.
“No, not a thing.” says Joanne.
“Then let's depart.” says Cy as both make their leave.
“I wonder if Darlene felt something back there.” says Joanne, walking away from the house with Cy.
“I think she did, but like a Vulcan, she repressed it.” says Cy.
“Maybe she will feel something later.” says Joanne.
“I hope so. Darlene’s inability to feel her own humanity is gonna get her one of these days.” says Cy.
“You really think that?” asks Joanne.
“I do, and I know it. I know somewhere inside is that human part of her and that part of her will break free sooner or later and we’ll all be happy on that day.” says Cy.
“I just hope it doesn’t ruin other people in the process.” says Joanne.
As the sun sets on the day, a rain storm arrives in Hyperion. Inside his house, Cy looks out on the rain falling as the outside darkens. His mind is a thousand miles from his body as he stares out. As his mind returns to him, Joanne walks into the living room and notices the scene.
“What’s on your mind, Cy?” asks Joanne.
“Nothing. Just nothing.” says Cy.
“Tell me the truth.” says Joanne.
“A thousand things are on my mind. The rain does that to me.” says Cy.
“Does it?” says Joanne.
“It always have. Any time it rains, I just stare at it and wonder.” says Cy.
“About what?” asks Joanne.
“Everything and anything. It’s how my mind works.” says Cy.
“I’ve seen your mind at work. It doesn’t need this.” says Joanne.
“Sometimes, we can’t control our minds. They work separate from what we call our brains and our bodies. They must do what they do without change.” says Cy.
“Sometimes our minds can get the best of us.” says Joanne.
“And sometimes they make us forget the pain of that which is around us.” says Cy.
“Cy, you’re a poet, it seems, when it rains.” says Joanne.
“It would seem so.” says Cy.
“I wonder what other people are doing tonight?” asks Joanne to herself.
At the radio station, Phil is busy listening to the beginning of the Wednesday night program, a public opinion call-in show, from the control room. As the host takes in the first call, Phil begins to feel a bit tired, given away by a yawn.
“I think I’ll go home and turn in.” says Phil to the audio engineer.
“Have a good night. Don‘t forget your umbrella.” says the audio engineer.
“I didn’t.” says Phil as he leaves the room.
As Phil leaves the station, the rain bounces off the black umbrella he carries, keeping his head dry. Phil breathes in a sample of night air as he walks towards downtown. As he nears an intersection not far to the station, he decides to go to one of the local bars.
Phil’s path takes to Tom’s Place, one of the best bars in town. As Phil nears the place, he sees the old building, revealing in its age. A green awning extends in front of the building, with the words ‘Tom’s Place’ painted on. As Phil is about to cross the street, he hears a sound in the air.
He looks around and spies a figure, sitting on the curb, under a streetlight. He soon realizes that the figure is of someone crying. He walks up to the person and the person chances to look up, revealing herself as a woman. As Phil looks at her surprised face, he can’t tell the tears from the rain.
Phil then notices her dress, a white lacy dress with blue denim jacket covering the top part. Her red hair is soaked from the rain and hangs straight down and dripping as it drapes her shoulders. Her face is covered in a thin yet effective layer of make-up, being washed away. Phil sees all of this as he locks eyes on her.
“Are you all right?” says the woman in a demure voice.
“I’m… fine.” says Phil, getting off the ground.
“I’m Louise Harold.” says the woman.
“Phil Turner.” says Phil.
“Hello there.” says Louise.
“What are you doing?” asks Phil.
“Crying.” says Louise as she gets up off the curb and stands up.
“Crying over what?” asks Phil.
“Over the past. Over memories I’d forgotten. Over old feelings I’d felt long ago. Things like that.” says Louise.
“You seem depressed.” says Phil.
“Only for a moment. I’ll get better once I remember how to be happy.” says Louise.
“I know you will.” says Phil as he starts to walk away.
“Where are you going?” asks Louise.
“Tom’s Place.” says Phil, pointing across the street.
“It looks nice.” says Louise.
“It looks old.” says Phil.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” says Louise.
“That’s what they say.” says Phil.
“Maybe I’ll join you.” says Louise.
“If you like to.” says Phil, beginning to walk across the street.
“Right behind you.” says Louise, following behind.
The two manage their way across the street to the place. As they step inside, a Wednesday night crowd has begun to pour into the place, the air filled with interesting sights and smells.
“Nice place.” says Louise.
“I know.” says Phil as he closes his umbrella.
“Let’s sit at the bar so I can dry off a little.” says Louise.
“Lets.” says Phil as they take two stools.” says Phil.
“What do you want?” asks the bartender as he walks up.
“I’ll have a beer.” says Phil.
“Have you I.D.?” asks the bartender.
“Here you are.” says Phil as he hands it over.
“Still new to this, I see.” says the bartender.
“Can I order now?” asks Louise.
“What’ll you have?” asks the bartender.
“A glass of wine, please.” says Louise as the bartender hands back Phil’s I.D.
“A beer and a wine, coming up.” says the bartender as he walks away.
“So, have you been here before?” asks Phil to Louise.
“No, I haven’t, actually.” says Louise.
“How long have you lived here?” asks Phil.
“For a while now.” says Louise.
“Apparently not long enough.” says Phil.
“I’ll get use to it.” says Louise.
“I’ve been doing this for three months and I still haven’t.” says Phil.
“Then there’s hope for me yet.” says Louise.
“I guess there is.” says Phil.
“Here’s your drinks.” says the bartender as he returns with their orders.
“Thank you.” says Phil.
“No problem.” says the bartender as he walks away once more.
“Here I go.” says Louise as she downs a sip of wine.
“Does it taste nice?” asks Phil as a look of wincing crosses Louise’s face.
“Fine.” says Louise.
“Take it easy, then.” says Phil.
“Have you gotten used to drinking beer?” asks Louise as Phil takes a sip.
“Almost.” says Phil.
“It’s nice to know.” says Louise.
“How long have you lived here?” asks Phil.
“You can say I just got here.” says Louise.
“Then you’re a newcomer.” says Phil.
“You can say that.” says Louise.
“Then I’ll say that.” says Phil.
“That’s funny.” says Louise with a giggle.
“That’s what Cy often says.” says Phil.
“Who’s Cy?” asks Louise.
“This guy I work with. His parents were famous actors.” says Phil.
“Is that right?” says Louise.
“It’s true.” says Phil.
“Are your parents famous actors?” asks Louise.
“Nope. My father’s a cop and my mother’s a housewife.” says Phil.
“My parents were just nice people.” says Louise.
“You know, we’ve just met and already, we’re talking like friends.” says Phil.
“We can be friends.” says Louise.
“Good to know, good to know.” says Phil.
“We can be more than friends.” says Louise.
“I think the wine’s talking.” says Phil.
“It’s not the wine.” says Louise.
“I think I might feeling that way, too.” says Phil.
At his house, Cy is preparing for a night’s sleep. As he places a pillow on the easy chair’s headrest, Joanne rushes into the room.
“What are you doing?” says Joanne.
“Getting ready for bed.” says Cy.
“I thought we’d agreed to sleep in the same bed.” says Joanne.
“I slept last night in the same bed, a bed built for one, not two.” says Cy.
“I don’t care. I thought you would be sleeping with me from now on.” says Joanne.
“Joanne, it took most of today to get over last night’s snooze in that bed. I don’t wish to repeat it.” says Cy.
“Fine, if you wanna sleep in this chair, I’ll join you.” says Joanne as she climbs onto an armrest.
“You must be serious about this if you’re doing this.” says Cy.
“I am. If we’re gonna end up married, we should start acting like it.” says Joanne.
“Whatever you say. Good night.” says Cy as he turns off the lights.
“Good night to you, Cy.” says Joanne.
“Good night, my dear Joanie.” says Cy.
“Joanie?” asks Joanne.
“Sorry. My mind’s still in a thousand places.” says Cy.
“Okay, I forgive you.” says Joanne.
“Thank you. Good night, Joanie.” says Cy.
“And a good night to you too, Chachi.” says Joanne.
“Did you have to do that?” asks Cy as he dozes off.
At Tom’s Place, as the jukebox plays "Wichita Lineman", Louise and Phil share a dance in the dimmed lights of the place.
“You dance so well.” says Louise.
“And this is without a single lesson.” says Phil.
“I know.” says Louise.
“I can‘t believe we‘re doing.” says Phil.
“Why are we doing this?” asks Louise
“I don't know the answer to that. It's just that the second I saw you, something came over me and I can't explain it.” says Phil.
“Maybe it’s love.” says Louise.
“That fast? I don't know. Maybe I should spend more time with you to find out.” says Phil.
“I would enjoy your company.” says Louise.
“So would I.” says Phil.
1:30 am soon rolls around and as the tavern closes down for the night, Phil and Louise stand outside it, looking up at the stars, now that the rain has stopped.
“Look at those stars, Phil.” says Louise.
“They sure are bright up there. I wish I could give one to you as a present.” says Phil.
“You're a romantic, I'm finding.” says Louise.
“I‘m not, but I can be, in time.” says Phil.
“You will be.” says Louise as she starts to walk away.
“Will I ever see you again?” asks Phil.
“We'll see about that.” says Louise as she continues to walk away into the night.
The next day, Cy is sitted in the green room's easy chair, reading a magazine quietly and slowly.
"I wonder who's gonna get to play my mother's character in this Welcome Back, Kotter movie? Maybe Lindsay Lohan?" says Cy to himself as he shifts his head a little.
“Good morning, Cy.” says Phil as he enters the room.
“Nice to see you, Phil.” says Cy.
“Thank you, Cy.” says Phil.
“I had an interesting time last night.” says Cy.
“How so?” asks Phil.
“Well, Joanne is so fixed on the two of us sleeping in the same place that she slept with me in my easy chair last night.” says Cy.
“How did it go?” asks Phil.
“Let’s just say that I’m gonna have to get used to it.” says Cy.
“Get used to what?” asks Conrad as he enters the room.
“To Joanne sleeping with me.” says Cy.
“Say, can we get to me now?” asks Phil.
“What is with you this morning?” asks Cy.
“Oh, Cy, my mind has been stoked.” says Phil.
“By what or who?” asks Conrad.
“By this girl I met last night.” says Phil.
“Tell me more about this girl.” says Cy.
“You should have seen her. I mean, she was lovely.” says Phil.
“She must be to make this kind of impression on ya.” says Cy.
“You’re right.” says Phil.
“Did you talk about anything else?” asks Cy.
“I learned that her name is Louise Harold.” says Phil.
“Nice name. Plain, yet exciting.” says Cy.
“She was dressed in what looked like a nightgown with a jeans jacket on and had these tears on her face. I mean, she looked all right to me but something was on her mind.” says Phil.
“That’s good to know, good to know.” says Cy.
“It is, isn’t it?” says Phil.
“I'm glad that you have a crush on someone.” says Cy.
“It's more than a crush. I feel it's love.” says Phil.
“Only one night together, and it’s love.” says Cy.
“I know it’s crazy but I just felt something.” says Phil.
“Good for you. Now, maybe you can calm down a little.” says Cy.
“Good morning, people.” says Conrad as he enters the room.
“Nice to see you today.” says Cy.
“I don’t know why I should come into work this morning.” says Conrad.
“Why’s that?” asks Phil.
“Because of the way that Cy ruined my birthday party for Darlene.” says Conrad.
“Don’t tell me that you’re still upset over that.” says Cy.
“I can’t believe that you would say all those things to my sister.” says Conrad.
“Why not? She deserved it.” says Cy.
“Not to her face.” says Conrad.
“So you do agree with me?” says Cy.
“I don’t, but you should have kept your opinions to yourself.” says Conrad.
“It was an opinion, it was fact.” says Cy.
“So you say.” says Conrad.
“Conrad, can I tell you about what happened to me?” asks Phil.
“You may.” says Conrad.
“I’m in love.” says Phil.
“You are?” says Conrad.
“Her name is Louise Harold and she is an adorable person.” says Phil.
“Nice to hear that.” says Conrad.
“I can’t tell you how much I’m in love now.” says Phil.
“He did to me, Conrad.” says Cy.
“I’m happy for him.” says Conrad.
“Me, too. It’s nice to see our intern in love.” says Cy.
“I can only hope it lasts.” says Conrad.
“You say me and Nanette wouldn’t last. You said that me and Joanne wouldn’t last. I think Phil and Louise have a good chance.” says Cy.
“Don’t mock me.” says Conrad.
“I’m not mocking you.” says Cy.
“It seems like you are.” says Conrad.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
That concludes Chapter I of Act 1. Next week, Cy is given a very important assignment to do on the air. The catch: he has only less than 12 hours to get ready. You won't believe the lengths he goes to get what's needed and the things he does to get them. That's next week in Chapter II - "How to Go to Law School in One Day"
Catch it next Monday. Post time is 5:00 pm, EST
Join me, won't you?
Yours truly, John Maxwell.
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