Post No. 73

THINGS ON THE MENU

"I'll Go Down Swinging: Chapter I"

 

Greetings, fellow travelers, and welcome to the seventy-third posting of the Blog.

 

June 28, 1969, 1:00 am, New York City, in a bar in Greenwich Village.  A group of people who society at that time didn't like that well are trying to have as much of a good time as spending time in a mob-owned gin joint can.  Just then, the police burst in and do the duty that are trained to do.  After all, to the people in the bar, it doesn't help that the city that they live in has basically declared war on them and their way of life.  It's just another raid, like a hundred before them.  However, something was in the air.  Some feelings that those there to this day can't really describe.

 

Over the course of the next couple of hours, a riot broke out with a crowd that had gathered outside the place to watch those inside be hauled off to jail.  The crowd, as if like a gas in a chamber, lit up once a spark, which no one can say what it was, went off.  That night, the group, of homosexuals, chased and battled the police.  As stated before, the city had declared war on them, so it was only logical that the two sides battle.  While the short term outcome didn't lead to big change, the change came, in wave after wave.  Almost forty-five years later, the battles continues, but the war is being won.

 

This week, the Blog is proud to announce it is starting the serialization of a new book.  Or course, it's written by me and I hope that it does wonders for you.  It's called "I'll Go Down Swinging" and its origins goes back to my desire to write a same-sex romantic comedy.  While I will admit that the comedy in this opening chapter is lacking, it will get better.  I will make sure to include all the basic romantic comedy clichés in later chapters.  Also, I have hopes that next week, I will launch a supplemental feature for the postings, to show my range.  Meanwhile, it's time for some same-sex romantic comedy, so relax and let your eyeballs take it the words about to flow to them.

 

Without further ado, Chapter I of "I'll Go Down Swinging"...

 

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CHAPTER I

 

Her hair is a unique thing. Each tiny strain is made into slightly thick strains that fall off the top of her head. Each strain is twisted into curls in such a way that each strain is as different as snowflakes. The hair, in its length, comes about a couple of inches below her chin. The hair, in its whole, frames a nicely rounded and muted face.

Not much make-up is needed to make it beautiful. A bit of lipstick on her thin lips, no blush on her cheeks. The most makeup used is the eyeliner and yet then, only the right amount is ever applied. The eyes themselves are a nice blue-ish brown, the same as the hair. The nose has a bit of an angle. In total, this face is right for its owner.

The face is placed on a head and the head is placed on quite the body. Her height is almost around five feet if the hair is included. Her shape is typical female, with a few alterations. Her chest is small but useful. She likes it best when laying down, as gravity seems to rob them of some size. Laying down, her breasts sit upon her chest. Often, when she looks at the sight, she smiles with a sexual bent.

 

That sexual bent continues to her midsection. In this same laying down moment, where all clothing has been removed and has placed herself on her bed, she runs her hands along the length. Her fingers are minus long nails. Instead, the nails are painted a nice black. The hands reach her midsection. Her belief in natural things has lead to a forest of hair, as curly as the hair on her head.
 

She runs her fingers through said hair, taking pleasure in each movement she makes. She takes her right hand and places it on her right breast. She takes special pleasure in its feeling. Less the small size it usually is and more the large size it has now taken on. She gives it a squeeze and coos with sexual release. Her left hand, meanwhile, plays with the curly hairs and getting the same reaction.
 

The hand follows the hairs downward. In an instant, they reach that part of the human anatomy most crucial to the continuation of the species. She gives a feel to the lips with smooth motions. A fingletip touches the space between the lips. Her mind flashes on the pleasure that one touch brings. Quickly, she switches hands. Her left hand repeats the action of the right, giving a squeeze and bringing that coo of release.
 

The space between the lips receive a rub, bringing on a more intense feeling. The rub is repeated many times over, bringing that feeling in waves. Finally, after a minute of rubbing, her head now filled with the potential of sexual delight, the final thought makes itself known. With smooth, slow, and steady movement, two fingers disappear into the space between those special lips and the process begins.
 

Her head fills with the usual sexual images, furthering the feelings of sexual delight and joy. The fingers caress the interior of her being with all the joy she knew it would. Each caress brings an overwheming wave of sexual pleasure and delight. All her mind's eye now sees is the face of her loved one. The one person in life that she feels completes her. She sees in that face the lines of beauty others fail to see.
 

The same eyeliner eyes, yet placed onto a face of tanned experience. Hair twisted into dreads yet with the same look as her own hair. The lips on that face need no lipstick yet she can taste them as the pleasure sweeps her away. Her body twitches with delight. Her fingers being now her only sourch of feeling. Finally, after all that, she reaches that orgasm and her body releases a yell so full of delight, pleasure, and joy it can't be describe with words.
 

As she lays back, recovering from the moment, her lover's face resolves itself into a full picture of the person. Her lover is of the same basic construction as herself. The breasts, the hips, and the legs all make a woman, and a woman is her lover. She thinks to herself, removing the clothing her lover wears. The mere sight brings back those feelings and, over the next five minutes, repeats the last five, ending in that same orgasm.
 

After all of this, she gets off her bed, put back on the clothes she removed, those black-colored things. Her black shirt, her black skirt, her black socks and her black boots. Finally, she puts on her lover's old little cowboy hat. She then leaves her bedroom and walks into her living room. She looks on at the empty room, with the morning sun pouring in through the windows. Her delight turns into reality over her life.
 

"There must be something more than my life right now." is the thought that now runs through her mind.
 

She has herself a nice breakfast, a bowl of cereal not made with chemicals or animal things. The milk is soy and the cereal itself is wheat. Once the breakfast is finished, she readies herself mentally for the day. She thinks about the job she will interview today. As she rounds a mental corner, she hears a noise outside. Curious, she goes over to the window and looks out. There, she sees the sight.
 

She sees a man getting out of a old-model pick-up truck. In her mind, she knows all too well what the sight is and what it means. Without stopping, as the man walks up to the front door, she bolts out the back. With lightning moves, she get into the garage. She then gets into her car. Without a pause, she turns it on, remotely opens the door, and floors it, pealing out and down the street.
 

Who is this person? A good question. This person who has done all of this goes by the name of Serena Gibson. The place where she used to live is a small started home on the outskirts of one of the many neighborhoods of Chicago, Illinois. A few minutes into her flight, the famous skyline comes into view. Staring at it, she knows in her heart that she can't stay there, for the man would find her.
 

Speeding through the downtown area, she comes across a road she knows leads out of town: U.S. Route 12. Taking the road, she leaves behind the life she knew. Her lover, whose face is still on her mind, is the one she hates most to leave behind. Yet, she knows she must leave. A fate once laid out for her is what await her if she stays. After all, it's a nice Sunday morning, as someone she knows would say.
 

The path she drives away from Chicago leads to Indiana, through Michigan City, pass the casino, then into Michigan itself. Pass New Buffalo and its own casino, owned by the local tribe. Through the little community of Three Oaks and right pass Gailien. Then, she gets a sudden urge to make a left as she nears an intersection. She makes the turn and the road leads her to a small town.
 

This small town is Buchanan, Michigan, with a population of about 5,000 or so people. However, the exact number is never put on the sign. As she enters into town, it has been 90 minutes since she fled. Her heart is still on Chicago but her mind is on where she is now. Then, a problem creeps up. In her flight, she forget to check how much gas she had. As the tank empties, the engine begins to sputter.
 

As she nears an intersection, she sees a gas station. With quick thinking, she drives her car up to the station and up to the pump. She gets out for the first time in 90 minutes and does a slow stretch. She breathes in the clean air of the country and exhales the city air in her lungs. She then pumps the gas into her empty tank. Once she's done, she goes inside to pay, not realizing what's about to happen.
 

Inside the gas station, she walks up to the counter and sees the attendant there. She sees his 25-year-old face, the stubble covering it, the roundness of it. On top of his head is a cover of brown hair, combed into many a style. The classes with makeshift fixes on them. The way his red work vest flows over his orange shirt and the stains on his blue jeans. The way he smiles a friendly one. She doesn't catch his blue eyes looking at her and sizing things up.
 

"I see you're down." he says.
 

"You do?" she replies back.
 

"I do." he says.
 

"It's none of your business." she says as she hands him the money.
 

"Really? The look on your face, and I'm a expert on reading the look on people's faces, tells me that you need someone to talk to you." he says as he rings things up.
 

"If you must know, I've just driven over a hundred miles without stopping and no place to go." she says to him.
 

"No place to go, then why did you hit the road?" he says as he hands her the change.
 

"I needed to get away. You know, for... personal reasons." she says as she pockets the change.
 

"You know, if you have no place to go, I can offer my abode as a location." he says.
 

For a minute, she stands there at the counter, mulling over the offer. She thinks about continuing on, putting more distance between her and Chicago. At the same time, she looks over where she is. Surely whatever force that wishes to find her couldn't find her here. It was only a weird feeling that caused her to make that turn. After a minute of thinking over her options, she decides on an answer.
 

"Okay, I will take up your offer." she tells him.
 

"Great! Now, just do me a favor and wait until I get off. I'll show you there." he says.
 

"Thanks. By the way, what's your name?" she says.
 

"My name is Buck Owens Overton." he says without pause.
 

"What an interesting name." she says.
 

"I know it is. Trust me. Might I return the question?" he says.
 

"Serena Gibson is my name." she says.
 

"Nice one. Fits you right as rain." he says.
 

"Thanks... Buck." she says.
 

Meanwhile, across town, in a church, sits another woman. Her face is quite different from Serena and yet the same. As with Serena, her face is void of makeup. Framing the face is a pair of coke-bottle glasses, hiding a pair of dark eyes. Her black hair, long in length, is pulled into a tight bun on her head. As she stares at the pulpit, a scowl is present.
 

Her body is covered in an outfit that hides her shape, which is a lovely one. Her chest, more in size than Serena's with a mass hinting at something else, is covered with a sweater and jacket, buttoned nicely. The outfit itself, a collection of muted blue and red, completely hides any feminine features from leering eyes. No shape at all, only the long lines from the neck to the floor. Like Serena, her lower half is covered by a skirt.
 

While Serena's is knee-length with black stockings, hers is a floor-length model with swift lace covering the bottom edge and pleats folding upward into an almost-nothing belt of brown. The clasp, muted bronze, is un-shined and worthless. In total, this is the sight that a second-grade class at Moccasin Elementary see every school day. The name of this sight? One Susan Raye Overton, Buck's older and colder sister.
 

Sitting next to her on her right is a gentleman of similar ways. His face is slick and well-kept. His face, jet black as the night, is nicely-trimmed. His face has the same scowl. His body is covered in a nicely-trimmed gray flannel suit, circa 1960. Even his shoes have a shine, and his socks are white and pure. This gentleman is known by many as just George Simpson, local insurance adjuster. To Susan, he's her boyfriend.
 

For the last fifteen years of her life, she has lived her life by Christian morals. At this moment, she listens to the sermon and hangs on every word. She wonders over her life and figures that her life is nice enough. George is doing well in his work, doing his little best to undo the President's health care for his fellow Tea Party members. She, herself, is doing her best to teach without the bias others seem to have.
 

"That was a nice service." she tells George once the service is over and all are leaving the place.
 

"I know it was. It is great to hear God's word on a Sunday." he replies.
 

"I just wish Buck was here to hear it." she says.
 

"I think it's best he wasn't. He gives me a chill every time I see him." he says.
 

"I'm sure he'll get over it once you become part of the family." she says.
 

"I'm sure of that. It's just bound to happen." he says.
 

"So, now what do we do?" she asks him.
 

"Simple, we head back to our houses, lest we succomb to temptation." he says.
 

"If you insist. I shall count the minutes to our next meet." she says.
 

"If you wish it. Farewell, my dear." he says, leaving her side.
 

The feeling between these two hearts is of the love they believe God gave to them, a special kind, only to be enjoyed by them. That kind of special bland, flat, unfeeling, and strict love that Christians like them share. The love that leaves no shape and leaves no feeling. Truly a special bond that's always broken in the end, be it by wondering eye, liberation, or means not yet seen by those couples.
 

Later that day, Susan is busy in Buck's basement bedroom, trying to tame the monster that is his messed-up bed. The room itself is nicely-done, for its place in the house. The grey brick of the outside wall is mirrored on three sides. The fourth one is a new wooden wall, cutting the basement in half. Buck's half is covered in pictures of famous people, science-fiction icons, technology, and the like.
 

Meanwhile, Buck enters the house with Serena in tow. The house itself is a box of a place, located in what many call the poor side of town. It has a large porch extending from it. The look of it is of new wood, unvarnished. The house itself is covered in white shingles and looks unassuming. The inside, through Serena's eyes, is interesting to her.
 

Photographs of memories past cover the walls. The furniture is something ten years out of place. The television is the latest model, being paid for on the installment plan. The shelving unit it's located in is very modern in its look yet covered in momentos of the past. A musty odor flies into her nose and feels the history of the Overton family even more.
 

"I just know you're gonna love it here. I mean, until you find a place to call your own around here." says Buck to Serena.
 

"Thank you for that. I know I can live here." she replies.
 

"You know, it's nice to have someone else live here." he says.
 

"Who else lives here with you?" she asks.
 

"My sister, Susan Raye Overton. My father was such a fan of my namesake that he named me and sis after the star and his protege." he says.
 

"That's nice to know. Is your sister here now?" she says.
 

"I'm sure she is. Oh, Sis!" he says, shouting the last part.
 

Down in the basement room, Buck's voice carries nicely and soon flies into Susan's ear. The shout stops her in the midst of her duty.
 

"What is it?" she replies back at the same volume.
 

"Come upstairs. I have something for you." he replies, same volume.
 

With quick steps, Susan leaves the basement room, climbs the stairs, enters the kitchen, and walks into the living room. What happens next is the beginning of a larger series of events that will change all in the room. Susan walks into the room, spots Buck and then eyes Serena. Inside Susan, a most unusual feeling comes forward. A feeling which only felt at certain times in a person's life, and this is one of those times.
 

"Who is this?" she asks Buck after a moment's silence.
 

"Sis, this here is Serena Gibson. She's our new live-in guest." he replies.
 

"Nice to meet you, Miss Overton." says Serena as she sticks out her hand.
 

"The feeling's mutual, if not returned." she replies.
 

"Don't worry about that. My sister is a little cold to strangers. She's a little cold to friends. She's even a little cold to her own sibling. In fact, let's just say she's a little cold and leave it at that." Buck tells Serena.
 

"I can see that." she replies.
 

"Tell me, brother, where is this... person gonna sleep?" Susan asks Buck.
 

"My name is Buck, not 'brother' and Serena will sleep here, on the couch." he replies, pointing to the piece of furniture in question.
 

"Brother, I must talk to you about your habit of letting people live in our house." Susan tells him.
 

"It's not a habit. This woman has had quite the day, according to her. This morning, she was in Chicago. Now, she's here, with nowhere else to go and nothing to her name except the clothes she wears." he tells Susan.
 

"And I bet by sundown, those clothes will be on your basement floor." she snarks back.
 

"No, they won't. I will not take advantage of our guest." he says.
 

"Just give it time." Susan says as she walks out of the room and into her own bedroom, whose door is right next to the one for the basement.
 

"Don't let Sis get you down. If you ignore her and her boyfriend, things will be better for you overall." Buck tells Serena.
 

"Good advice. I think I'll take it." she replies.
 

"Imagine her implying that I'm gonna direct you on a course to my bed." he says.
 

"Yeah, about that... " she says, pausing for a moment.
 

"What about my bed?" he asks her.
 

"I don't see anyway I would end up in it as a willing occupant. You see, I'm a... lesbian." she tells him.
 

"Really? As in one of those types that love women and sleep with women and having sex with them?" he asks.
 

"Yes, that is what I am." she says.
 

"Well, then I really am glad to meet you. You see, I have never really met one of you before." he says.
 

"Really? Why not?" she asks.
 

"Because with this particular corner of our sometimes-fair country, homosexuals stay away like we have the plague. Our state is very discriminating towards people like you. You couldn't even have a sexual relationship of the sort here until a decade ago." he says.
 

"I hope you're wrong about that." she says.
 

"I hope so. One of these days, you will be able to marry in this state no matter what gender your partner is." he says.
 

"Just let me live my life and I won't bother you." she says.
 

"I can say for me but not for Sis. That'll take some work." he says.
 

"I'll try my best." she says.
 

"Good idea. Now, I shall leave you to your new bed. I'll head to my own room." he says as he then leaves the room and heads to the basement.
 

Serena then takes the time to sit down on the couch and ponder her life now. Her lover, after all of this time, is still on her mind. She could give up the home they shared, the closet of clothes, the food, the furniture, even her bed. The one thing she can't give up is that love in her heart. With no one around to see, she lets herself shed a tear. A tear of sorrow, over a loss she can't hide for long.
 

Serena then lays down on the couch and then stares up at the ceiling. As she stares, she is unaware of another pair of eyes engaged in staring. Those eyes belong to Susan, who has quietly tiptoed out of her room and is spying on her and Buck's new guest. The look on her face is curiosity. Curiosity over why this person is giving her a strange feeling. It's a feeling that Susan hasn't felt in fifteen years, according to her memory.
 

Serena's first night with the Overtons begins with dinner at their table. Their table is located in the kitchen. That night has the trio eating a nice spaghetti dinner. Susan made it right after she stopped spying on Serena. The smells of cooking are always welcome to Serena. She remembers the meals her lover cooked, for Serena herself can't cook. As the trio sit down to eat, a part of Serena's life, one she holds dear, rears its ugly head.
 

"Guys, I have something to say." she just says without pause.
 

"If you have something to say, say it after grace." says Susan.
 

"I think our guest just said... " says Buck before he is stopped by Susan, "Fold your hands and say grace."
 

Buck and Serena then watch as Susan bows in prayer, saying the grace. The two of them don't join in. Buck's reason is that he never bought into the whole thing. Serena's reason is that religion doesn't play any part in her life, beyond giving her a moral code. The same goes for Buck but in different ways. Finally, Susan finishes with the grace and Serena decides to just state outright what needs to be said.
 

"What I wanted to say is that, with my diet, I am a vegan." she states.
 

"What on God's green earth is a vegan?" asks Susan.
 

"A vegan is someone who not only eats animals but anything from animals, such as eggs, milk, and cheese." says Buck, showing his intelligence.
 

"Why would anyone wanna do that?" asks Susan.
 

"For the same reason why someone wouldn't eat an animal. They think that using animals for such things is wrong." says Buck, again showing his intelligence.
 

"For someone like you, I never thought you would know that." says Serena.
 

"I'm no country hick. I'm a well-rounded member of the nerd kind. I take in knowledge on many things and consider myself quite smart." says Buck.
 

"I'm sorry but all my food has some part of an animal in it." says Susan, snearing a bit.
 

"Don't worry. I'll look into vegan alters to Sis's dishes." says Buck.
 

"I'll just eat this tomato pieces for now." says Serena as she pops one in her mouth.
 

"Whatever, my dear Serena. I'm only a man with a brain." says Buck as he digs in.
 

The dinner soon concludes and all three retire for the night. Susan is the first to turn in, followed by Serena. As Serena lays down on the couch, her mind thinks over the whole day. When she was pleasuring herself that morning, she had no idea where she would be when the day ended. She assumed it would be with her lover, intertwined in each other's arms. As the thought runs through her mind, those pleasureable feelings surface once more.
 

She imagines the scene. She sees herself in that house she shared. She sees her lover return home after a long time being away. The two lock eyes quickly. The message they exchange without words is clear. A swift move to the bedroom and the two begin a moment of passion. In reality, as she sees the scene before her, she rubs her hands all over her body, enhancing the scene with sexual pleasure, furthing the scene.
 

Pretty sure, the two are on the bed, embracing each other, wearing nothing at all. The images flashing through Serena's mind become more sexual until she herself is posed in a sexual manner, her fingers now inside her. Unlike the scene that morning, the feeling is more intense as she sees only her lover. Finally, the scene ends with that scream of orgasmic sexual delight. As she finally drifts off to sleep after the ordeal, she is unaware that Buck has come upstairs.
 

As she passed through sexual delight, Buck had been engaged in getting himself a drink before handing back to watch television in his basement room. He heard the sounds of pleasure and let his curiosity over their source get the best of him. Having finished watching the scene, he shrugs it off and returns to his basement room. That night, in Serena's head, that sexual scene repeats all night long.
 

The next morning, bright and early, Serena is the first to awake. She looks at her watch and sees it is 6:00 am. While it soon dawns at her she has no job to go to, she goes through her morning routine anyway. She showers off the previous day. Althought the thoughts returns, she decides to just let them flow by and continue her routine. Having brought no clothes with her, she simply puts the one she took off right back on.
 

She then watches as Susan and then Buck go through the same routine. Buck, to her, is the strangest. While Susan does all her undressing and dressing in private, Serena watches as Buck emerges from his basement, pulling off pieces of clothing until he enters the bathroom already nude. After showering, he exits the bathroom the same way, heading back to the basement to dress. Never in love with the male body, she just waves off the scene.
 

Finally, all are dressed and ready to go. As Buck returns upstairs for his breakfast, Serena can hear her growling stomach. Quickly, she gets off the couch and goes into the kitchen. There, she slowly walks up to Buck, making himself a bowl of cereal. She watches him get out the bowl. As she arrives next to him, he pours in the cereal itself. Eventually, as he pours in the milk, he sees the figure of Serena next to him, looking at the cereal with hungry eyes.
 

"I can see that you're hungry for something to eat." he says to her.
 

"That I am." she replies.
 

"I'm having a nice bowl of cereal to eat." he says.
 

"That I can see." she replies.
 

"I do this because my sister stopped making my breakfast some time ago." he says.
 

"Why did she do that?" she asks.
 

"George, her boyfriend, told her I had to do all my cooking and cleaning myself. I know it's his attempt to rid himself of me, but it wouldn't work." he says.
 

"More power to you." she says as he takes a spoon and puts it in the bowl.
 

"This cereal is tasty. I just wish we had some soy milk so you can eat it." he says as he picks up the spoon.
 

"I need something to eat, Buck, or I'll perish." she says as he puts the spoon in his mouth.
 

"Then let us look over the kitchen for a vegan breakfast." he says as he puts the spoon back in the bowl.
 

Serena and Buck then spend a minute looking over the available eats in the kitchen. The exacting standards by which vegans eat leave little options. Finally, after a minute, they come upon a bunch of bananas. With no other option, Serena grabs one, peels it, and bites into it.
 

"I knew we would find something." says Buck to Serena as she chews away.
 

"Not me. I thought I'd starve." she replies with banana in her mouth.
 

"I hope you're ready for today." says Susan as she emerges from her bedroom.
 

"Good news, Sis. We found something for our vegan friend Serena to eat for breakfast." says Buck with a smile.
 

"Why do you just eat the same food as the rest of us?" asks Susan.
 

"Sis, please respect the decisions of our guest." says Buck.
 

"I'll just head off to work right now." she says as she then heads towards the door.
 

"Say, Serena, last night, I happen to come upstairs and I spotted you doing some self-loving on our couch." says Buck.
 

"I'm sorry. I just felt like doing it." she replies.
 

"Don't worry. I understand. However, I would keep things down a bit. You see, I haven't told Sis about your orientation yet." he says.
 

"Why not?" she asks.
 

"Because she's of that group that thinks that you and others like you are committing a terrible sin and will be condenmed to Hell upon your death, hopefully by AIDS." he says.
 

"You don't believe that?" she asks.
 

"Not in the least. Just keep it from my sister until I can tell her." he says.
 

"Noted. Now, time for me to just sit back and do nothing." she says.
 

"I wish I could do that but I must go out and earn money." he says.
 

"I used to be able to do that." she says as she takes her banana and leaves the room.
 

Within the hour, the house is empty. Serena just watches as first Susan, then Buck head off to work. Then, all alone, she thinks about her old job. How much joy she brought people. The way she would move her fingers through the hair of her customers, rubbing shampoo into their scalps. Now, that joy, which she loved so much, is gone. Her job no longer exists. No purpose in her life has she now. Only nothing.

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What things await Serena in her new life?  Could it be that which forced Serena to leave Chicago might find her?  What things await?  The only way to find the answers to any of these questions to come back next week for Chapter II of "I'll Go Down Swinging". 

 

I hope you like the way I phrased the sexual moments.  I have a aversion to the more heavily-used terms and I'm trying to use poetic language to get the point across.  If you wish to tell me if I succeeded or failed, inform me in the comments below.  That way, I can gauge how the story is turning out for you.

 

Until next week, this is just another slice of life this side of the galaxy... 

 

Yours truly, John Maxwell.