#they come out of holes in the dirt. for years I called them sand bees | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

horusath-blog · 6 years

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A Star in the Desert

"ALI?" The colonel's voice boomed through the crowded hallway. "WHERE THE HELL IS ALI?!" The shout cut through the clamor, and suddenly every face in the hallway turned towards Ali. She tightened her grip on the stack of papers in her arms and quickly pushed her way through the masses, keeping her eyes firmly at the ground the entire way. Slowly, the commotion began to kick up again. "Here, sir", she mumbled when she reached him. The colonel started in an exaggerated fashion. "Christ girl, I told you to stop sneaking around me like that!" "My apologies, sir", Ali deadpanned. The joke was a favorite of his. Ali was barely 5'2, and the colonel towered over her with his 6'3 frame. Though at this point, the colonel was the only one who still saw the humor of it. "Hahaha...no, you're right, no time for jokes. Follow me." The colonel started walking, long strides at a time. The entire E ring of the Pentagon was in chaos and, if Ali suspected right, the rest of the building along with it. Something had happened, something big. Nobody knew the whole picture, but the details were slowly filtering in. Mission failed, targets escaped...men dead. "What do you got for me? I'm being pulled apart here, getting all kinds of interference about what happened." Ali struggled to keep up with his pace, while trying to keep a stack of papers from falling out of her hands. "Sir. It's been confirmed that we've lost Delta Team B." The colonel abruptly stopped and turned around. It was all Ali could do to keep herself from bumping into his chest. He stared down at her. "As the great apostle Paul once said: come again? "It was during the Falluj-" "Yeah, yeah, I know what they were doing", the colonel said, angrily waving his arms as if he were swatting an invisible fly. "Christ Ali, how about I put you on the intercom, let the whole wing know why don't you." Ali didn't say anything. She'd gotten used to the colonel's outbursts. It wasn't the first time she wondered how this man, who was so quick to lose his composure during a crisis, had risen to the rank of colonel. The colonel ran his hand through his hair. "Christ almighty, they're gonna be all over me..." He looked back at Ali. "Tell me you got something. Anything." Ali nodded patiently. "We're not exactly sure what happened, bu-" "Oh, Jesus", the colonel moaned. "BUT", Ali continued, "we have a helmet recording from one of the members of Delta Squad B." The colonels eyes lit up as if Ali had turned into a pot of gold. "Recording? What does it say? Why wasn't I told?" "The tech guys are still working on it", Ali said. "The footage was heavily damaged." "Alright, alright..." The colonel was calming down. "That's good. We got something to go by. Right, where are they?" "The tech bay, sir." "Bring them all to central. I want this done under my watch. Got it?" Ali nodded. "Yes sir." Ali's full name was actually Halimah. Her parents had come to the US when she was two, escaping the regime of the communist hating president Zia. Though not a full-blown communist himself, her father had ties to certain groups that were considered 'subversive'. Better to be safe than sorry. She had a double Masters in International Politics and Law from Yale. They had first approached her during her final year in college. It had all been a very covert affair: coded e-mails, meetings in dark rooms, and of course the dozens of tests they put her through (mostly to root out any potential communist leanings, if Ali were to guess). In the end, she had been offered a job as a desk clerk at the Pentagon. That was five years ago. Then, a position higher up presented itself. They needed someone who could speak Pashto for a highly classified function. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. That's how she ended up with the colonel. The first thing the colonel did was shorten her name to Ali. As he'd told her: "Nothing personal girly, I just don't have the time to run through the whole goddamn alphabet whenever I need to call you." As far as her parents and friends knew, she was still a regular desk clerk. By the time Ali returned to the central command room with the technicians it had already filled up with dozens of people swarming around like a hive of angry bees. The chamber was structured like a large oval. Rows of desks with computers and other technological equipment on them filled the majority of the space. The front wall was covered by a large screen. For the moment, it only showed a rotating American flag on a black background. At the back end of the chamber was an elevated platform, providing any person standing on it with complete oversight of the entire room. That was where the colonel was standing. He looked up when Ali and her group entered the room, and clapped his hands twice to draw the attention of the room. "Alright folks, the tech crew is here. Let's get them set up and get this party rolling." He addressed the technicians directly. "I want that recording up and running on the double. Got that?" He was answered by a few diminutive "yes sirs" and some nods. The colonel beckoned Ali. "Ali, with me." When she reached him, he was just signing off on a document. "Get that to Nelson", he told another aide. He turned his attention to Ali. "What's the down-low? How much time they gonna need?" "From what I gather, they've finished most of it, sir", Ali said. "Need to clean it up a bit and it should be ready to go." The colonel nodded. "Alright...alright. That hound Nelson has been breathing down my neck all day. Won't be able to hold him off forever, need to give him something solid." Nelson Frankman was the chief of staff. He was the highest authority the colonel had access too. Ali knew that, with a case like this, Frankman would take over sooner or later. Hopefully they would be able to get the recording running before that. The colonel looked at a tall bespectacled woman who was hunched over a table with a group of other people . "Sarah? What's the status on the media?" Ali recognized her as Sarah Brands, head of public relations. "Nothing yet sir", Brands said, her head never rising. "We're on the lookout for any leaks. So far so good." "Good, good... " The colonel's hands were gripping the chair in front of him, the white on his knuckles clearly visible. "Still can't believe this shit", he murmured at no one in particular. "Goddamn lost an entire Delta squad. How the hell does that even happen?". His right index finger started tapping on the plastic of the chair. "Leak in the intel...? Can't be. Maybe...no...FUCK!" Ali took a step back at the sudden outburst. Every head in the room turned towards the colonel. The colonel glared at them. "The hell you all staring at?" Instantly, everyone tried to appear as busy as possible. "Anything I can do sir?", Ali asked, trying to help him get his bearings back. The colonel looked at her like he'd seen her for the first time. "Ali? Yes...yes, get me a list of Delta B's members and their backgrounds." Always prepared, Ali pulled out a sheet of paper from the stack she was holding and handed it to him. "Right here, sir." The colonel quickly scanned the document, nodding while reading. "Andrei Moretz, Clancy Johnson, William Bard, Ahmed Khu...Khuda..." "Kudiadadzai, sir", Ali helped. "Right. And Tom Harris, squad leader. Christ, they're some of the best we got. If we lost one of them it'd be bad enough. All of them? Might as well send me to the firing squad right now." The colonel had a penchant for dramatics, Ali knew. It was best not to push when he had his moments. Still, to lose an entire Delta Squad...perhaps he was right to be so anxious. "I'll go check on the techies", Ali said. The colonel nodded absentmindedly, turning to read another document that had been shoved under his nose by an aide. Just as Ali was about to make her way to the front of the room, one of the technicians, a tall, spindly man with a cartoon t-shirt, stood up. "It's done." The words cut through the commotion in the room like a knife through butter. Slowly, the room grew to a quiet. The colonel was gripping his chair so hard that Nancy could see it's legs vibrate. "Alright", he said, a barely perceptible tremble in his voice. "Let's see it." The technician quickly returned to his seat and started clicking with his laptop mouse, all the while mumbling to himself. "Just...upload it here...broadcast it to...there...here we go." The flag on the screen flickered, before disappearing entirely. Images briefly flashes across the screen, but they were too unclear for Ali to make out what they were. She could feel butterflies in her stomach. Finally, the footage stabilized, and the recording began to play. It seemed to be taking place in a dark alleyway. The ground was covered in sand and dirt. Ramshackle buildings lined the street, many showing signs of battle; bullet holes, or partially collapsed roofs. Two figures in specialized military uniforms were quickly making their way through the alley, their bodies hunched and their rifles help up in front of their faces. Ali had to remind herself this was footage taken from a helmet cam, so there were three people there. But Delta Squad B had five members. They must be behind the camera. Suddenly a voice spoke up. "Damn this shit." "I heard that Clancy", another voice snapped. It seemed to be coming from the lead figure at the front. "One more beep out of you and I swear I'm calling in a friendly fire incident." "That's Harris", the colonel said to no one in particular. "But this ain't right, top", the voice that was identified as Clancy Johnson continued. "These folks, they didn't do no-" "Fucks sake...", another voice from behind murmured. "Hey man, up yours Bill" The colonel nodded to himself. "Bard. That makes four" The squad leader spoke again. "That don't matter shit Clancy. Boss says we go after their families, that's what we do. End of. Now shut up and keep your eyes open. We're almost there." Suddenly the other man at the front raised his hand to signal a halt. "Contact." "Moretz", the colonel mumbled, but his tone made the statement sound like a question, as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing. Ali barely heard him, her attention wholly taken up by what was happening on the screen. A figure was standing roughly fifty feet ahead of the soldiers, in a small patch of shadows out of the moonlight. The front end of a rifle came into view just beneath the camera. The squad leader raised one finger and bent it to point at the figure. "Ahmed." Sounds of movement came from behind the camera. A figure hurriedly passed by the camera's right side until he'd reached the front of the group. He started addressing the figure in a foreign language. Ali realized it was Pashto. She felt the colonel's hand grip her shoulder. "What is that, what's he saying?" "He's demanding that the individual step out and indentify himself." The unknown individual began slowly walking forward, until he was fully out of the shadows. Ali could hear a low murmur begin to rise in the room. The pressure on her shoulder increased, but Ali hardly felt it. The figure was clearly not of Afghani or Pakistani descent, or even Iranian for that matter. He had a vaguely Asian look to him, though if someone had told her he was an American she strangely would not have disagreed. He wore a simple red shirt with a loose fitting blue vest over it, but they were ragged, as if they'd been torn apart and sewn back together several times over. But what really startled Ali were his muscles: they were unbelievably large. The man looked like he could lift a truck with one arm. "What...", Ali heard the colonel mumble beside her. In the footage, the soldiers were trying to keep their cool, but Ali could hear a similar level of confusion. "The fuck...", Bard breathed. "Top? What do we do?", Clancy asked, his voice low and urgent. The squad leader motioned them to be quiet. "Ahmed, again.", he said to the squad member to his left. Ahmed repeated his demands from before. The man before them did not react, staring at them motionlessly. "What is he, stupid?", Moretz demanded. Ahmed shrugged, in so far as his equipment allowed it. "Guess he's not a local." "I could have told you that much", Clancy murmured. "Shut it, boy scout", Harris snapped. "Alright, we don't have time for this. Moretz, take him out. Headshot only, don't want to wake the whole street" "Sir", was the curt reply. The figure to the right of Harris took aim, and then fired a single round at the stranger. The sound of the shot echoed through the streets. Again, the man failed to react. There were no signs of impact, no blood or staggered movement. Suddenly Ali felt the colonel lean forward. "What is he holding?" Ali hadn't even noticed the fact that the man had two fingers raised before his face. Something was wedged between his middle and index fingers, something small and dark and... Ali felt her stomach turn. "It's the bullet." Slowly, more and more people in the room came to the same realization, and the murmur began to rise in volume. "Goddamit, keep it down, or I'll haul you out myself", the colonel roared. Despite his bravado, Ali could see his hands shaking. The commotion in the room had made Ali miss some of the dialogue between the members of Delta Squad B. "Top?", Bard said. "I'm thinking", was the response from Harris. "I say we go full auto on this Houdini motherfucker", Moretz snarled. Clancy scoffed. "And get the whole village down on our heads. What are you, stupid?" "One more time, Clancy, I swear to god..." "Can you sons of bitches shut up", Bard hissed. "We got bi...oh shit!" The unidentified man slowly started walking towards them. "Ahmed, again", Harris said, his voice grim. "But top, he's no-" "Just do it, dammit!" Once more, Ahmed addressed the man in Pashto, but like the last time, the man gave no signs of understanding any of it. He continued his march unabated. "Alright, that's it", Harris said. "On my mark, turn this fucker into Cheddar." The man was now thirty feet away from them. He had a look of cold determination on his face that gave Ali goose bumps. "Hold it", Harris said. Twenty feet. Ali could make out a canvas of scars on his body. The most prominent of these were a series of puncture marks on his chest that looked like he'd been shot multiple times over. Ten feet. The man put his hands together and cracked his knuckles, the sound oddly loud in the quietness of the alley. "Take him out!", Harris shouted. "Hyooow" Just as the bullets started flying through the alleyway, the man leaped with a shout, rolling and turning in the air like a trained gymnast, going high, too high to be humanly possible. For a second, the camera lost track of him as he vaulted over their heads. And then he was right in the middle of the group, and chaos broke loose. "Hold your fire, HOLD YOUR FIRE", Harris was shouting. They all scrambled to get away from him, but the man had already grabbed Bard. In one quick motion, he pressed his index fingers on the sides of Bard's helmet, breaking through the reinforced material as if it was cheap plastic, and hit his temples with his fingertips. Before any of them could react, the assailant jumped away again. Bard stumbled in place like a drunkard, trying to get his bearings back. He was still wearing the remains of his broken helmet. "Fuck, where'd he go?! Bill, you alright?", Harris said. Bard had stabilized his movements. "Yeah...yeah I think so." He raised his rifle. "Alright, where is that fu-". Before Bard could finish the sentence, his head exploded. Ali remembered accidentally eavesdropping on a conversation her dad had with an old friend from Pakistan. She had been twelve, and she'd been trying to sneak into the kitchen for an afternoon snack. The living room door had been left slightly ajar, and just as Ali was trying to worm her way by, her father's friend was telling him about what had happened to an acquaintance of them who had been captured by the Pakistani government. The details had been gruesome, and suddenly Ali hadn't felt so hungry anymore. She'd quietly made her way upstairs, back to her room, and laid on her bed for hours, staring at the ceiling. She never told anyone about it. Now, fifteen years later, she felt that horribly familiar feeling come back as she watched William Bard's head explode in a rain of flesh and pieces of bone. The conference room erupted in a whirlwind of commotion. People were shouting and screaming. Some had jumped out of their seats, or fallen on the ground, as if a flash bang had been set off . Ali saw one of the technicians throw up all over his laptop. In contrast, the colonel stood motionless as a statue, his eyes fixated on the screen. Ali forced herself to continue watching as well. In the footage, pandemonium had similarly broken loose. Bullets were flying everywhere, as all the while Harris was shouting at them to close ranks and hold their fire. The video feed was getting erratic, as Clancy's head was turning a different direction every second, trying to find their target. A muffled grunt behind him made him whirl around. Moretz was kneeling on the ground, gripping his stomach. Clancy moved towards him, constantly looking around him. "Andrei? What's going on?" Moretz had an anguished look on his face. "I...I don't know. He...he was here, and...I..." His stomach started expanding furiously. He started screaming and clawing at his midsection. "Fuck! Clancy, Clancy help me man, I ca-" A second later, his stomach burst open in a deluge of blood and intestines. "Jesus fucking....oh dear Jesus." Clancy fell to the ground as the blood rained over him. He desperately scrambled back on all fours. The camera was dotted in bloodstains. "What the fuck top, what the fuck is going on?!" Ahmed was heard shouting off screen. "I...he must be carrying some kind of miniature explosives", Harris said, his voice sounding like he'd just run a mile. The camera frantically tried to locate his position as Clancy was trying to get back on his feet. "Just fucking don't let him get nea- uahaaaaaa" The sentence transformed into a scream, and seconds later the by now all too familiar sound of erupting flesh echoed through the alleyway. When the camera finally found him, all that was left of squad leader Sam Harris was a shredded pile of meat. The camera abruptly lowered two feet as Clancy fell to his knees, hurling violently. "Fuck this...Clancy, I'm sorry man, I got a wife and kids man." The helmet cam jerked up. Ahmed was running back the way they came, disappearing into the shadows. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice came from the dark. "Atcha!" The sound of Ahmed's boots on the dirt stopped. "NO. Please, I got a family man, I...I...pa..pwaghuuuu." The clatter of his rifle hitting the ground could be heard, followed by a low thud. All the while, Clancy hadn't moved. The camera was fixated on the pile of vomit on the ground. The sound of feet hitting the ground came from behind him, and a small cloud of dust sprang up. It must have cut through Clancy's haze, because he stumbled back and jumped up. He raised his rifle at the raggedly dressed man before him, his arms unable to contain the shaking anymore. "Why man?!", he screamed hysterically. "Why the fuck are you doing this?!" The man didn't answer. He slowly started walking towards Clancy, one step after the other. Clancy frantically started shooting, not even trying to maintain accuracy as his rifle swung all over the place. "Hyooow" The man leaped through the air and landed behind Clancy. As Clancy frantically turned around, his face ran right into the man's outstretched finger, which hit him right between the eyes. Clancy quickly jumped back. His left hand was feeling around his face, picking at his brow. "What the fuck did you do to me?!" The man didn't say anything. Clancy frantically raised his rifle again."FUCK YOU MAN. YOU'RE FUCKING DEA-" Finally, the man spoke. His voice was cold and monotone. "Omae wa mou...shindeiru." Clancy's arms started shaking more heavily. "What?! What was that? What did you say? Fuck you want, man?!" The man slowly turned around and started walking away. "Wha..." Suddenly, Clancy dropped his rifle. His hands rose to his head. The camera flailed around wildly as Clancy started screaming. "No...no...je-bluaerghh" The helmet cam flew through the air amidst a rain of blood and brain matter, before it landed on the ground. A heavy thud followed shortly after. The man could be seen walking back down the alley he came from, until he was swallowed up by the shadows. From there, the footage stayed the same; a dark, dusty alleyway in between a series of war-torn buildings. For a moment, there was absolute silence in the central command room. A sense of general unease hang in the air, clinging to Ali like a second skin. What the hell had they just witnessed? Rather than be panicked or frightened, Ali felt oddly numb. It was all just so...surreal. Eventually, one of the technicians broke the silence. "It uh...it kind of goes on like this for a while", he said, indicating the screen. The scenery had not changed. Every now and then, a small gust of wind would blow up some sand. The colonel didn't react. He was still staring at the screen, his jaws clenched firmly together. A small pool of blood began to appear on the ground surrounding the camera. Someone stood up. It was an older man. His white hair looked disheveled, as if he'd been running his hands through them repeatedly. He began power-walking his way to the door, keeping his head down. Others, galvanized by his example, similarly rose from their seats to exit the room. "NOBODY LEAVES THIS GODDAMN ROOM TILL I SAY SO!" The colonels voice boomed through the room with the force of a fighter jet's engine. Instantly, everyone stopped moving. Finally, the colonel let go of the chair he'd been holding on to throughout the ordeal, and stood up straight. "Sit", he growled. "You, techies. Cut the feed." After a brief shuffle of movement, everyone was back in their seats, and the screen at the front of the room once again showed the static image of the American flag. The colonel took a deep breath. "I don't know what the hell we just saw", he began. His voice was impressively steady, Ali thought. "But I damn well know this: nothing of what we just saw leaves this room. Zero. Zilch. As far as everyone's concerned, Delta Squad B were killed by an IED. They'll be given the works: posthumous purple hearts, state funerals, recompense for the families. Not a goddamn beep about any of...this." He looked over at the technicians. "Send me a copy of that video. Then destroy the rest. Got that?" The group mumbled their confirmation. The colonel turned his attention back to the rest of the crowd. "Some of you might be thinking that this is a matter of national security. That we need to inform the higher-ups pronto. Well, here's the deal; that's none of your goddamn business. It's mine. So if any of this gets out, any of it, not only will you get fired, I will personally see to it you will never get employed anywhere outside of your local 7-Eleven. " He let the words simmer for a bit. Everyone seemed to be avoiding each other's gaze, like students avoiding a teacher's attention for a difficult question. Finally, the colonel spoke again. "You may leave." As people slowly started filtering out of the room. he turned to Ali. "Ali, go with the techies. Make sure those little rats don't blindside anyone. I want any copies other than mine gone." Ali nodded. "Yes sir." The colonel had already turned away to talk with the other senior officials that had stayed behind. When they stood outside in the hallway, Ali closed the door to the central command room. Then she turned to the technicians. "Head back to the tech bay. I'll meet you there. No wandering, got it?" Despite the fact that they were all significantly taller than her, they kept their eyes down and nodded. After they had left, Ali found a secluded corner in the hallway and pulled out her cell phone. After double checking to make sure no one was around, she pulled up her quick dial menu and chose the third option, and then put the phone to her ear. A male voice answered. "Daniel Selzer, New Tork Times." "Dan? It's Ali. You're not gonna believe what I got for you."

#fistofthenorthstar #fanfiction #omae wa mou shindeiru #usarmy

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spiderfan22 · 7 years

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DAY TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY-NINE - 6/2/17

“ELLA MENNO PEE” by DJS

This short’s got something to it. Some bite. Though, admittedly, the Ella character is a riff on the slow Cooper/Dougie character from the current revival of Twin Peaks, more or less a blank slate, repeating everything other characters say.

So sue me (read: please don’t).

Jill is 6 years old.

She is playing in a sandbox.

She makes big mounds of sand, then tries to poke holes through them, but the sand collapses. This in no way diminishes her enthusiasm for the task, lost in her own imaginative world.

She sings The Alphabet Song while she plays.

JILL A, bee, sea, D, E, F, gee, H, eye, jay, kay, ella menno pee, queue, are, S, tea, you, V, double you, X, why and Z...

Now I know my ABC’s, next time won’t you sing with me?

ELLA, off SING WITH ME.

Jill looks around curiously for the origin of the voice.

Then, from below the sand, a young woman rises into view. She shakes off the dirt and grit, revealing a fabulous dress, brightly colored and patterned. Her hair is similarly wild, long and curly and full of glittery sparkles. Ditto on her makeup.

This is Ella. She beams stupidly at Jill, who reacts to her sudden and mysterious appearance with only mild shock and pleasant surprised.

JILL Who are you?

ELLA WHO ARE YOU?

JILL I’m Jill. What’s your name?

ELLA JILL.

JILL Your name’s Jill too?

ELLA JILL 2. (And she holds up two fingers, like the peace sign)

JILL That’s funny. You’re funny, Jill.

ELLA YOU’RE FUNNY, JILL.

JILL Do you want to help me build a castle?

ELLA YES.

JILL OK. You work on the moat. I’ll build the castle.

ELLA CASTLE.

JILL Make it big.

ELLA BIG.

JILL And deep—

ELLA BIG AND DEEP.

JILL --so no bad guys can get in.

Ella nods exaggeratedly.

While Jill begins to construct a crude sand castle in the center of the box, Ella moves some sand around in a very non-specific way, producing nothing but a few small piles.

Noooo. Like this.

Jill demonstrates the proper technique for creating moats. Ella copies her, less successfully but still something resembling a trench.

ELLA LIKE THIS.

JILL That’s ok, but you should work on it. Keep going.

Jill resumes building a castle. Ella works on the moats. This goes on for a bit.

I’m going to tell you a story, Jill.

ELLA ELLA.

JILL What?

Ella points to herself, her chest.

ELLA ELLA.

JILL But I thought your name was Jill. You said your name was Jill, like me.

ELLA ELLA.

JILL Why did you not tell the truth?

Ella gives that a think. She shakes her head. Smiles, doesn’t know.

Well, you should always tell the truth, that’s what my mom says. So promise.

Ella stares, confused.

Promise, Ella.

ELLA PROMISE.

JILL Cross your heart and hope to die.

Jill makes the gesture of crossing your heart. Ella mimics her vaguely.

Good.

ELLA GOOD.

JILL Are you my friend, Ella?

ELLA (nodding) MMMM.

JILL I’m going to tell you that story now.

ELLA TELL THAT STORY NOW.

They work as Jill tells her story.

JILL This sandbox is nice and all, but one time we went to the actual beach. In California. It was hot and my mom says she wished we had an umbrella but my dad says it didn’t make sense to buy one to just use that one time. My mom says we could rent one, there was a place to rent one. But that was all the way at the top of the beach by where we parked, and the beach was so big my dad said he wouldn’t walk back because it was so far and the sand was so hot. It was hot. Not like this sand. It would burn your feet, unless you just came out of the water, then it felt good. So then my dad walked down to the water and my mom stayed on the towels we brought, beach towels, she stayed there sitting and reading her book and putting sunscreen on me. We had a bunch of bottles because it was so hot and my mom said it was important, even if my dad didn’t put any on, my mom said I shouldn’t be like him and he would re-gret it later, that night, when he got a really bad sunburn. Just because he used to get tan when he was a kid, my mom said, doesn’t mean it’s that way now. She said I could play, but only in the area right in front of our towels, between the towels and down to the water. And I could only go in a little ways, up to my knees, but if I wanted to sit, I could sit and let the water splash over me. Do you know it tastes like salt? I drank some and it didn’t taste bad. It tasted ok, kind of like popcorn, it was that salty, but not crunchy like popcorn. Dad came over and he saw me and he said, he saw me drinking the water and he said to stop, it would make my stomach hurt. I said why, daddy. He said he already told me it would give me a stomach ache and I should sue the buckets we bought to bring some wet sand up and build a castle. I wanted to build a mountain, a volcano, but I didn’t know what to use for lava. I could use water but it wouldn’t be red like lava, it would just look like water going down some sand. We also got these shovels. Everything was new because we just got it at Target before coming to the beach because mom thought I would be bored. But I told her I loved the beach even though I never went there before. My mom laughed when I said this because I don’t know. I don’t know why she laughed at me, I wasn’t saying a joke. I know some good jokes, knock-knock jokes. Do you want to hear one?

Pause. Ella has understood very little of Jill’s story, but the sudden silence after she stopped talking has recaptured Ella’s attention. And she nods.

OK. Knock, knock.

No response.

Knock, knock.

No response.

You’re supposed to say “who’s there”.

ELLA YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SAY WHO’S THERE.

JILL Who’s there.

ELLA WHO’S THERE.

JILL Boo.

ELLA BOO.

JILL No, you’re supposed to say “boo who?”

ELLA BOO WHO.

JILL Hey, don’t cry. It’s just a knock-knock joke.

Jill giggles and Ella grins, weirdly pleased.

Do you want to hear another one?

ELLA ONE.

JILL OK. Knock, knock.

ELLA KNOCK, KNOCK.

JILL No, you say who’s there.

ELLA WHO’S THERE.

JILL Yodelayhee.

ELLA YODELAYHEE.

JILL Who.

ELLA YODELAYHEE WHO.

This cracks Jill up, and she falls over in a fit of giggles. Ella just stares at her with the same weird grin.

JILL You’re funny, Ella. Did you hear what you said?

ELLA WHAT YOU SAID.

JILL No, you said it. You said Yodelayheehoo, like you were one of those guys, I forget what they’re called, on top of a mountain.

ELLA YODELAYHEE WHO.

JILL Yeah. Do you want to hear one more?

ELLA MORE. ONE MORE.

JILL Knock, knock.

ELLA KNOCK, KNOCK.

JILL No, who’s there.

ELLA NO, WHO’S THERE.

JILL Jill.

ELLA JILL.

JILL Yeah, it’s your best friend Jill. What, don’t you recognize me??

Jill laughs, very happy. She claps her hands. Ella claps, mimicking her.

JILL How are those moats coming?

ELLA COMING. MOATS.

JILL Make sure you go all the way around. The castle has to be protected on all sides.

ELLA ALL SIDES.

JILL I’m going to make so many towers on this castle. Do we have anything to use as a flag?

Jill looks around. Then she notices a clip in Ella’s hair. Points to it.

Can I have that?

Ella points to her head, not understanding.

Your clip. Can we use it for the flag for the castle?

ELLA FOR FLAG.

Jill goes to Ella and starts extricating the clip from her hair.

JILL I promise to give it back when we’re done.

This takes some doing, and Jill ends up pulling Ella’s hair. Ella shrieks. Jill feels genuinely bad for doing so.

Oh I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Ella. I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.

ELLA ACCIDENT.

JILL I didn’t mean to…

Ella is rubbing her head and runs her fingers through the strands of hair that held the clip.

Can we still use it for the castle?

Ella nods vaguely.

Thanks. I think it will look really good.

Jill sticks the clip at the top of one the sand castle towers.

There, see? Pretty.

ELLA SEE THERE PRETTY.

Pause. Jill gives Ella an appraising look.

JILL Hey, Ella?

ELLA ELLA.

JILL Hey, are you real?

ELLA ELLA.

JILL But are you real?

ELLA REAL. ELLA.

JILL Because you don’t act like it. You act like—

ELLA REAL LIKE.

JILL �� No, you act like, like a doll or something.

ELLA DOLL.

JILL So is that what you are? Not real?

ELLA ELLA NOT REAL.

JILL But how can you be my friend then if you’re not real?

ELLA ELLA.

Long pause.

JILL Ella, let’s play something different. OK?

ELLA OK.

JILL A different game.

ELLA DIFFERENT.

JILL Lie down.

Ella looks confused.

You know, on your back. Lie down.

ELLA BACK.

JILL Yeah.

Jill helps Ella to lie back on the sand.

Good. Now open your mouth.

ELLA MOUTH.

JILL Wide. Like this. Awwwww

Jill demonstrates, opening her mouth wide like she was at the dentist. Ella copies her.

And hold it open. Keep holding it open.

ELLA AWWWWWWW

JILL Now I’m just gonna pour some sand in your mouth.

ELLA AWWWWWWW

Using a toy shovel, Jill scoops a small amount of sand from the box, and neatly pours it into Ella’s open mouth. Instantly Ella begins to cough and sputter and spit the sand out.

ELLA SAND. SAND.

JILL Don’t spit the sand out, Ella. Don’t spit out the sand. That’s not part of the game—

ELLA ELLA SAND.

JILL No, Ella. I said no. Stop it—

ELLA ELLA.

Jill quickly scoops up more sand and pours it into Ella’s mouth. Then more. Then more. Far from gentle now. Ella coughs and sputters and sand goes everywhere. Then it becomes too much and she starts to choke. Jill keeps going, pouring more and more sand into Ella’s mouth. Ella’s hands go to her throat to indicate that she is choking. Finally Ella makes a last croaking sound and she goes still. Jill has gotten so into this that she is sitting astride Ella’s chest, staring down at her. Beyond fascination.

Pause.

JILL Ella?

No response, of course.

Ella, I just want to say, if you died, it’s OK. Because you weren’t real. It means it didn’t even hurt you. See, I can pinch you and it doesn’t matter.

Jill pinches Ella’s forearm. No reaction, obviously.

Pause.

I’ll finish the moat too. Don’t worry.

Jill resumes playing in the sand, just as eager as before, digging around the body.

Ella stares blankly, dead-eyed, at nothing.

#short play #alphabet #sandbox #twin peaks esque

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