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The Sleepless Knights – novel excerpt II – an 80’s/90’s Jersey based supernatural fantasy.

“Ha, no. I just..um..wanted to see if you’d reconsider.” 

“Well..I..uh..I don’t know,” she fiddled with the charm necklace she was wearing. “My mom always told me not to take rides from strange boys,” she exaggerated a shy demeanor, fluttering her eyes. 

“You know, you’re insecure act isn’t going to work on me, Agatha,” I winked. 

“I guess I have to try harder, James. So where’s the ‘49 Mercury?” 

“In the shop. Right now it’s that big bastard over there.” When I glanced over my shoulder,  I spotted Quinn, Kyler, and Rian making their way towards us. “And here comes the rest of the crew. If you’re going to make a run for it, do it now.” But she didn’t move. 

“My apologies, my lady,” Quinn bowed, “if I my big mouth frightened you, but our brother Cayden here told us all about you, and we couldn’t let you drive away before introducing ourselves. I am Quinn, lead guitar in our little brigade. This fine young specimen is Kyler, lead vocals, and this little spitfire is Rian, our keyboardist.” Kyler waved and smiled at Maeve, but Rian, being the wannabe crooner, kissed her hand and said, “I’m enchanted.” 

“Dude, you just took that from The Temple of Doom,” Kyler lightly swatted Rian in the back of the head.

“What? I did not! What are you talking about?” 

“You know, the scene when they make it to Pankot Palace, and the head dude told Willie Scott, “I’m enchanted,” Kyler finished in a bad English accent. 

“Whatever man, it’s not my fault you’re jealous of my skills even though I’m the youngest.” 

“Guys, please. Can we maybe not act like we were raised by wolves?” I interrupted, even though Maeve was quietly laughing at their antics. 

“It’s nice meeting you guys, and congratulations on all the success you’re achieving so quickly. I hear you put on a really good show.” 

“Thank you, but our shows are not just shows, my dear. They are life experiences.” 

“Quinn,” I gave him a stern look.  

“Hey, all I am saying is you may walk away with..a new outlook on life.” 

“I am sure of it.” I could tell she wasn’t impressed. 

“So are we going to stand around in a mall parking lot all night or are we going to party?” Kyler complained. 

“Only if Maeve agrees to join us,” Quinn smiled. “Otherwise, we’re stuck with Kung Fu Master battles and McDLT’s while Gus cruises the parkway.”

“Yeah, come out with us. I promise we’re not as scary as we may look.” I think I failed at not sounding like a 5 year old in Toys R’ Us.  

“Oh..um..well, I would really love to, but I..made other plans.” 

“Watching Nick at Nite until you pass out? Those are plans?” She shot me a fake dirty look. 

“Ooh, what’s your favorite show on Nick at Nite?” Kyler, the movie and TV buff, asked excitedly. 

“The Bad News Bears.” 

“Mine is Dennis the Menace.” 

“Mr. Ed for me,” added Rian. 

“Did you know they used peanut butter on the horse’s gums to get his mouth to move?” Kyler asked. 

“No, I didn’t. That’s crazy,” Maeve giggled as she made another attempt to search for her keys in her backpack. Sensing we were losing her, I looked over at Quinn for help. 

“Maeve, you are more than welcome to join us on the bus tonight for some good old black and white TV and junk food, but we were thinking more along the lines of wreaking havoc at Seaside Heights. But we would need guidance from a Jersey boardwalk veteran. Are you the Frog Bog queen we need?” 

“Are you kidding? My family and I practically lived on that boardwalk. Haven’t been there in a while though,” she finished sadly. 

“Then that settles it. Let’s roll! I’m dying for some soft serve.” Rian ran back towards the bus. 

“Yeah, come on, Maeve. It’ll be fun. Somebody besides me has to beat this numbnuts in Skeeball.” Kyler pointed to Quinn. 

“Ky, it’s not our place to push the matter. Let’s leave these two be. Maeve, it was a pleasure meeting you,” Quinn bowed then patted Kyler on the shoulder, urging his friend to follow him back towards the bus. 

“Hope to see you around, Maeve,” Kyler strode backwards to catch up with Quinn. “And don’t worry about my brother there. He won’t bite unless you ask him to.”

“Kyler, piss off!” I yelled and shook my head. “Sorry about that, we’re trying to figure out whether he needs an exorcism or a shrink.” 

“That’s okay,” she laughed. “They seem like really great guys.” 

“Yeah, sometimes better in small doses,” I wisecracked. “But we’ve known each other since we were in diapers so…” 

“You must have a great time together then – traveling all over, playing your music, running from teenage girls in heat through shopping malls.”

“You’re glamorizing it, Agatha.” 

“Once again, I speak as I find. James.” 

“If you got to know us, you might find more to us than what you see in Teen Beat magazine.” 

“Well, I already know one of you doesn’t like being mobbed, willing to dive into clothing racks to escape certain death by Loves Baby Soft perfume.” 

“Are you sure you won’t come to the boardwalk with us? We’ll bring you right back here to your car whenever you’re ready.” The horn on the bus sounded. It had to have been Rian, and Gus undoubtedly smacked his hand away. No one ever touched the wheel but Gus. 

“I don’t know, Cayden. I..I -”

“Look, I’m sorry. Quinn is right. I shouldn’t be pressuring you. I’m just..I’m really glad I got to meet you, Maeve Wicklow.” Despite my better judgment, I took her hand and kissed it before backing away to jog towards the bus. Its engine hummed in the otherwise quiet night. I felt like a complete fool. I wanted to keep running down the road until I finally hit the beach. Once I found an overturned lifeguard boat, I could hide underneath until I was forgotten. I never thought it would be hard for most people to do.

“Wait!” 

Music to my ears. 

“Wait up,” Maeve caught up to me, out of breath. “Okay, I’ll go. Just know I have fountain pens in this bag that I’m not afraid to use as weapons, so if any of you guys value your testicles, I suggest you don’t try anything.”  

“Noted,” a raised my hands in surrender. “Come on, let me give you the tour of our humble abode on wheels.” 

All the guys except for Donovan were standing around outside of the bus when I reached them with Maeve at my heels. 

“Well now, the skeptical Jersey girl has changed her mind,” Quinn grinned. 

“I can’t have a bunch of out-of-towners leave without showing you where to get the best sausage sandwiches.” 

“Awesome, let’s book!” Quinn knocked on the door and seconds later it swung open. Before any of us could react, Ezekiel leapt into Maeve’s arms, startling her. She still managed to safely catch him despite the shock. He immediately started licking her cheek.  

“Damn! He usually hates every living thing on Earth besides us!” Kyler looked over at me in amazement. 

“I know. I mean, it’s not like he’s ever viscous, but he definitely doesn’t care to be around others.” I scratched Ezekiel’s head as he continued to sniff at Maeve’s face and ear which made her giggle and smile. I liked watching how her eyes fluoresced even under the pale yellow glow of the light post. 

“Well, sometimes animals can surprise you,” she rocked him. “He’s adorable. What kind of dog is he?” 

“He’s some sort of Pug mix. We’re not sure. But anyway, may I introduce Ezekiel. My apologies if he came on a little too strong there.” 

“Aww, no worries. He’s being a perfect gentleman if you ask me. Let’s just hope his friends do the same,” she winked. 

“Come on, you too. The rides and games aren’t open 24 hours,” yelled Quinn from inside the bus. I motioned to her as if to say “ladies first” to which she gave me a playful little eye roll. Suddenly, I remembered the bus looked like a college dorm room. I didn’t get a chance to clean it and I certainly wasn’t expecting company. She said hello to Gus while still holding Ezekiel and our enigmatic driver politely smiled and nodded. Following right behind her, I watched as she scanned our living area. Clothes, bags of snacks, soda cans, books, magazines, and papers littered almost every space that wasn’t used for sitting or sleeping.   

“Wow, talk about Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, huh?” Her signature sarcasm never waned. Ezekiel began to whine and squirm in her arms, so she kissed him then let him down near his water bowl. The guys relaxed at the table or on the couches and bickered about what to watch on TV. 

“Admittedly, this place could use a woman’s touch, but when you’re living the confirmed bachelor road life, a Pinto can feel like home,” Quinn shoved a stack of Dorito chips in his mouth. 

“Come here, let me introduce you to Gus,” I took her hand, which she tried to pull away from mine for a mere second or two, and led her back to the front of the bus. 

“Gus, this is Maeve. Maeve, meet the driver of our chariot and the world’s most reliable walking encyclopedia, Gus.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she extended her hand to Gus. He clasped her fingers gently and gave her a light shake. 

“It isn’t what we say or think that defines us, but what we do. Ja–”  

“Jane Austen,” she replied before giving Gus a chance to cite the speaker. Gus smiled and nodded in appreciation. 

“How did you know that?” 

“My grandmother brought me up on Jane Austen. Among many other geniuses.”  

All I could do was lock eyes with her. At that moment, I knew she would only continue to show us how remarkable she was. She would prove to the others that she was the one we needed. 

“Hey, are we getting the hell out of this parking lot and doing something or should I just go back to bed?” Donovan stormed out from behind the curtain that separated our living area from our bunks. He grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on as soon as he saw Maeve but made no attempt to introduce himself. 

“Who pissed in your Ovaltine, ya meat head? We have a visitor,” reprimanded Kyler. 

“I see.” 

“Don,” I walked Maeve over to our grossly muscular drummer. “This is Maeve. Maeve meet Donovan. He may look scary but he’s really a gentle giant.” 

“Hi, nice to meet you.” 

“How ya doing?” He made no attempt to shake hands, and he barely looked at her. It was a nice enough greeting, I figured, for him anyway. Donovan walked passed us and sat in the seat closest to the front as Gus maneuvered his way out of the parking lot. 

“Don’t worry about him,” I whispered to her. “He has a hard time..warming up to new people.” 

“He seems shy, for such a big guy. He looks like he could have been in the movie, Predator.” 

“Yeah, Jesse Ventura robbed him of that role.” She jokingly elbowed me. “Come on, let’s take a load off.” 

I cleared a space for her to sit on the couch, and she placed her treasured backpack on the floor by her feet. I got her a soda, and we passed the time telling jokes and childhood stories as we watched Nick at Nite. It was a good 25 minute drive down the parkway to get to Seaside, and in that time, she seemed to become more relaxed, not so quick to turn to the jokes or sarcasm as a shield. When she put her journal on the table and flipped through some pages, the silent, slack-jawed astonishment amongst the guys didn’t go unnoticed. Even Donovan moved closer to us for a look at her work. By the time I could get the guys to snap out of it and return to Earth, the lights of the boardwalk shown through the enormous windshield. 

“Last one to the Frog Bog is buying dinner!” Like an 8 year old on his first trip to Disney World, Rian ran off the bus as soon as it stopped. 

“Shall we, Ms. Wicklow.” 

“With pleasure, Mr. Donnelly.” 

That smile would be the one thing that could kill me. And I might have been totally okay with that. 

 Let the Games Begin 

“Okay, okay, Maeve’s turn. Two truths and a lie,” Kyler took a big bite out of his second sausage sandwich. 

“Umm..okay, let me think..hmmm..I broke two fingers falling off a swing when I was eight. I eat the cookie part of an Oreo before the filling, and I squirted what was left of a Ssips iced tea drink box into a bully’s ear.”

“I’m going to go with the Oreo. That’s a lie. Nobody does that,” Quinn insisted. 

“I say the juice box in the bully’s ear,” Rian feverishly shook and squeezed what was left in the ketchup bottle onto his basket of crinkle cut fries.  

Donovan read a comic book he won at the first game he played when we arrived. I knew he didn’t like me which I couldn’t figure out. Cayden said it took awhile for him to warm up to strangers, but this cold shoulder seemed to be bigger than just hesitation. It was as if he didn’t trust me. I knew they had a lot of run-ins with psycho fan girls, but I wasn’t acting like one at all. Maybe that was why he didn’t care for me? It was puzzling to say the least.   

“What about you, Cayden? You haven’t tried to guess one yet.” 

“Oh, Cayden isn’t allowed to play. He’s too good at this game. Too much of an advantage,” Quinn quickly chimed in. 

“Yeah, I know everything about these guys already.” 

“You don’t know everything about me.” 

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” 

“What are you, telepathic?” I jested. Kyler spit out his soda followed by a stifled laugh from Quinn. 

“No, just a really good guesser that’s all,” he glared at his friends. 

“So who got it right?” Rian asked impatiently. 

“Well, you were both wrong. I haven’t broken a single bone in my body. Knock on wood.” 

“Who the hell eats the cookie before the cream?” Quinn shook his head. 

“I do. Ever hear of saving the best for last?” 

“You squirted juice in some asshole’s ear? Why did you waste it? You never get enough in one juice box as it is.” Cayden nudged me with his elbow. 

“Hey, the kid stole my favorite colored pencils and he snapped my training bra in the middle of class. He had it coming.”  

And there we were. Scarfing down some boardwalk staples and having a few laughs at a picnic table as the sounds of games and rides filled the salty air. It was unusually warm for an April evening. Spring always seemed to take its old sweet time in the northeast. But that night seemed to be perfect, on many levels, and that scared the hell out of me.

As we finished up our meals and continued to shoot the breeze, my mind kept wandering back to the same question. How did I get here? Under normal circumstances, I had little to offer what would ordinarily intrigue the opposite sex. Hell, I had never been on a real date. I wasn’t sure if anybody really went on official dates anymore. I didn’t think of that situation as being a date. There were five of them and one of me. That’s quite gross actually, even for the Jersey shore. 

But I still would have never imagined hanging out in a place that held boatloads of treasured memories for me with five guys in a fairly famous band. No one knew where I was and with whom, but there was no way anyone would be coming to look. For once I wasn’t Maeve anymore, erased from my usual existence. I kind of liked that. I tried not to like it too much. 



Names

we will drive there
one day
where the succulents change color
right in front of you if you look hard enough
and we will lie on the colored river rocks

until we blend into the others
on like soddened roses
on handmade paper

we will forget our names
that weren’t really ours
to begin with

—–
Created with PoeTree for iPad
http://appstore.com/poetreewriter

The Sleepless Knights – an 80’s/90’s Jersey-based supernatural fantasy – excerpt

Here I am, diving into another novel I may or may not finish. But this has been pretty motivating, and I am now using Plottr which has been an absolute Godsend and making the process go 10x smoother. Tentative title is The Sleepless Knights, set in Jersey (duh), late 80’s going into the 90’s so there will be a lot of pop culture references. Overall, it’s a fantasy with some supernatural elements. Here’s a piece of the beginning chapters. Enjoy 🙂

“Do you have a Swedish Vullhound?”

“Hmmm. Not sure I’ve ever heard of that breed before.”

“They are quite rare, my dear. But you should carry rare breeds. Show dog owners love to spend money.” Distant screams and cheers traveled from the far end of the mall.

“Dear Lord, what on Earth is all that racket about?” “I think a band is doing a signing event at Sam Goody’s.”

“Hm, I cannot name a more ear-splitting sound than a teenage girl’s voice.” The older lady dressed in a McCall’s suit with huge shoulder pads rubbed her temples.

“Can I interest you in a cubic zirconia studded collar? I asked, striking a Vanna White pose towards the bedazzled dog accessories. “No, just the treats will do. I have to get out of this sorry excuse for a shopping mall. I simply CAN NOT take that God forsaken noise anymore.”

I quickly rang her up and bagged her homemade treats. Handing her the bag, I wished her a pleasant day, and she left without saying a word. Such was life at Just BeClaws pet gift and supply shop. Out of all the stores in the Monmouth Galleria, my shop was probably the least frequently visited when it wasn’t Christmas time. But the owners were nice enough to hire me three years prior, at 15 and with no job experience. It kept me from flipping burgers, and I could use my mall employee discount at the pizzeria and the bookstore.

Because it was often slow in the store, I could concentrate on my homework, which was rarely a problem, and most importantly, I could hang out with the friends I created with words and pictures, on any pages I could get my hands on. I was the prototypical nerd. The girl who actually enjoyed homework and writing long papers pleading for more vegetarian options in the cafeteria and eliminating the 4 years of gym graduation requirement. I finished clearance tagging some tacky cat jewelry then returned to the counter in the center of the store. I plopped my butt down on the uncomfortable wooden stool and picked up where I left off on my science paper – What would life in New Jersey be like if there were no other humans left besides me? Everyone could choose whatever state or country they wanted to focus on. I could have chosen a million other places I have never and will ever see, but I decided to go the easy route. It’s almost the end of my senior year, and I’m fried. Besides, people aren’t going anywhere for a while. The world will remain loud and confusing, even in silence. I closed my science notebook and dug out my leather bound book filled with handmade hemp paper. A Christmas gift from my best friend Rhiannon. We loved frequenting the hippie store, Intrinsic, on the top level of the mall, thinking we were cool checking out the bajas adorned with marijuana leaves and the psychedelic tapestries glowing under black lights. Carved into the leather cover was The Tree of Life. I knew this had a deeper meaning than simply being a tree, I just hadn’t bothered to find out what it was.

Memory waited patiently, as she did every day, for her new friend to arrive, wondering what new stories he’d have to tell and what new songs she could teach him on the piano. It was getting late, and she started to worry how much time she’s have to spend with him that night. But then again, her time alone in the apartment at night…

I paused and started doodling flowers on the side of the page when frantic footsteps and a near breathless voice yanked me out of my reverie.

“No matter who comes in here. I’m not here. You never saw me!”

Before I could register what just happened or muster some sort of response, the guy dove underneath a rack of thick, hanging afghans, all sporting cutesy embroidered pictures of different dog breeds. I barely got a look at his face.

“Is everything okay, sir?”

“Shhh, you’re going to give me away.”

“I can’t even see your feet.”

He ignored me. Suddenly, the sound of young, desperate female voices distracted me from the mystery man hiding within the throw blankets.

“Haveyouseenhim? Haveyouseenanyoftheguyscomebyhere? Whichwaydidhego?”

The blonde, who was obviously the leader of the trio of frantic girls, had a mouth full of braces and couldn’t catch her breath. The other two clung to her studded, denim jacket as if she was the only one who knew the way to Contempo Casuals.

“Ummm..I’m not sure who you are referring to.” I had to stop myself from looking over at the afghan rack.

“Well duh! Only one of the hottest guys on the planet! Where have you been?”

“Umm..reality? You should come visit some time. We have awesome bagels.” I shot her a goofy grin.

“Ugh, you’re weird!” grunted one the blonde’s lesser attractive disciples. “Can I interest you in a Yorkie plush to cuddle on those cold lonely nights?” I gestured again like Vanna towards the group of plush toys sitting on the shelf behind me.

“Get a life, loser. Come on girls, there’s no way anyone important came into this store.” The bratty trio turned to leave.

“Come back soon when we have more of those biscuits you liked.” The blonde gave me the finger and her minions followed. I was also one of those girls who had a hard time understanding the typical teenage mind. Maybe I was weird or a freak, but I certainly wasn’t interested in being whatever the hell normal was supposed to be.

“They’re gone.” He sighed before peeking through the wall of blankets surrounding him.

“Thanks. That was close. You mind if I just hang out here for a few until I know the coast is clear.” He stayed crouched down, partially hidden by the height of the counter.

“If you wish. No one is going to come looking for you in here unless you are a big dog or cat lover.”

“I’m allergic to cats. Dogs are awesome. I’m getting one soon.” “Well, let me know if you need me to put together a new puppy pack for ya. It’s kind of my forte as you can see. At least until college.”

“Thanks. Hey, I never caught you’re name.”

“That’s because I didn’t throw it, James.”

“James?”

“As in Dean.”

“Oh yeah, nice!” He smiled and nodded with pride. I couldn’t believe I spoke casually with a boy- a boy who was obviously older than me. A boy who looked intricately chiselled from smooth marble or painted with watercolor and fine tip brushes – an ethereal blend of art and reality. He had 5 o’clock shadow, and his thick chestnut hair was slicked back but soft with a few wisps hanging down over his forehead. I never thought a pair of hazel eyes could be that noticeable. I have hazel eyes but the kind you can’t see unless you look closely under right lighting. His eyes were leaves when they’re just about to turn in October. Tight Levi’s, a slightly tattered black leather jacket, a gold chain, and a white T-shirt completed his look that spelled “unattainable” as much as it spelled “danger”.

“I’m Cayden. Cayden Donnelly.” He held out his hand.

“I know who you are.” I hesitated before gently clasping his soft hand. It’s funny what you can remember like it was five minutes ago even though it happened decades before. That was one of those moments.

“Really, you listen to our music?”

“If it pops up on the radio. Can’t say I’ve added you guys to one of my mix tapes yet.”

“So what do you usually listen to? No wait, don’t tell me..The Comets, or Stella, right?” I wasn’t surprised he named a popular girl rock band and a solo singer, both of whom were played religiously at the roller skating rink that Rhiannon and I frequented.

“They’re okay..if you need something to dance to. But growing up in my house you have to be into hard rock, the longer the hair and the tighter the spandex, the better. At least that’s what it used to be,” I finished under my breath.

“That’s cool. My parents were hippies, so everything they listen to requires tie-dye and acid trips.”

I aimlessly sifted through papers sitting behind the counter trying to look busy. I had a terrible feeling the more we kept talking, the harder it would be to think of good things to say. He started whistling, looking around, and tapping his fingers on the table. Anxiously, I tried to think of something else to say to him. But he was a hot guy who was part of a band who were rapidly rising to Bon Jovi-level stardom.What more could I say to him that he’d actually care about? As soon as he left, nothing I said or did will ever be a second thought in that pretty head of his.

“So..do you like working here?”

“It’s okay. Gives me plenty of time to myself since what you see is what you get as far as customers,” I waved my hands around the empty store.

“Must get kind of boring though, huh?”

“I’m alone a lot but rarely bored.”

“Ha, sometimes I wish I knew what being alone is like. When you’re on the road with your five brothers, and you can barely run into a Dunkin Donuts without getting bombarded by screaming girls, you don’t get many quiet moments.” He smiled but I could tell he was only half joking.

“Awww, what’s the matter? Too much hairspray and frosted lipstick for your tastes,” I quipped, offering him a stick of Juicy Fruit which he accepted.

“Definitely,” he chucked.

“Well, trust me, unless you like boardwalk games and Pork Roll, egg, and cheese, don’t bother with a Jersey girl.” I was only half kidding.

“Ahhh yes, the infamous pork roll versus Taylor ham, boardwalk and Skeeball, New Jersey stereotype. I can relate. I’m Irish Catholic, so everyone thinks I’m a drunk.”

“Do you ever get asked if your a Kennedy?” I laughed.

“Not yet,” he smiled. He had a contagious smile. He’d make you smile even if you were enjoying being pissed off, and then that would piss you off more. His eyes never seemed to change size when he smiled but you can tell it was an honest grin.

“So are you going to tell me your name, or are you going to leave me in suspense?” He spun a turning rack of calendars around, still trying to hide his presence from fans who may happen to pass by.

“If I tell you, you’re not going to stalk me are you? I mean, I know my intense allure is hard to resist,” I bantered.

It was fifteen minutes to 9 pm, so I used my key to bring the gate a quarter of the way down, a classic mall indicator of approaching closing time.

“A little too self-deprecating don’t you think?”

“I speak as I find, Mr. Donnelly,” I smirked.

He followed me around the store closely as I straightened racks and shelves. With every step he took closer to me, I tried to take a step away.

“But what if others find you interesting?”

“I kind of don’t know what that’s like.”

“Well, I think you’re interesting.”

“But you don’t even know me.”

“Trust me, I know more than you think..I mean..I’ve been around plenty of girls like you.”

“Girls like me, huh? And what kind of girl is that?” I made my way back behind the counter, opened the register, and began counting bills – anything to maintain a space between us. Though I can’t say I was particularly nervous around him. Still, I needed to keep my guard up. He could have been one of those skirt-chasing, sex-crazed rock stars who could seduce a nun if he wanted to. But again, I wasn’t the skirt-wearing, boy-chasing type of girl, assuming guys didn’t want to be chased by a girl less exciting than a can of Tab soda.

“Smart, quirky, but closed off, like you’re always trying to hide from everything. But you don’t realize that..that you are…everything..to somebody.”

I froze at his answer and looked at him. He raked his hand through his hair then rubbed the back of his neck. I probably should have said thank you. I probably shouldn’t have felt the need to hide the heat in my face.

“And I guess you know me so well, huh?” I finally answered, trying desperately not to smile but failing as I counted coins.

“Of course I don’t know you. But let’s just say..I see a lot in people they don’t necessarily see in themselves.”

I nodded then started to count nickels aloud as he effortlessly juggled a few tennis balls he grabbed from a bin of dog toys. He could easily see I was getting ready to close the store, but seemed to be making no attempt to leave. Not one teenage girl had walked by in a while, so he could easily leave without the fear of being bum-rushed by raging hormones.

“Well, anyway, I need to finish closing up shop, so…”

“What are you doing when you get out of here?” He quickly threw the balls back in the toy bin then leaned forward on the counter towards me.

“Umm, not sure. Probably just going home, writing a few pages, then watching Nick at Night until I pass out. Why?”

“Yeah, I write and I draw. It’s my major. I’m a regular Renaissance woman,” I held up my journal and showed him a few pages.

“Wow,” he reached for my book. “This is incredible. Can I see?”

“Uh..sure. Just keep it at a few glances, if you don’t mind. I can’t even remember half of what I’ve written or drawn in there. Don’t want to incriminate myself, you know?” I replied, partially in jest. He quickly flipped through some pages, looking up at me in astonishment from time to time.

“Amazing.”

“Thanks,” I reached for my journal, and he handed it over without little protest.

“It seems like you’ve illustrated some stories there.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes they just..come to me.”

“Can you come meet me outside once you’re done? I’d like to introduce you to some friends of mine. Plus, we’re not sure what there is to do around here on a Friday night. I figured you could show us the best places for some harmless shenanigans.”

“Oh, well..I don’t know. I have my mother’s car, and I guess I’m expected to back home.”

“Are you sure?”

Not really, I wanted to say. I’d never been asked to hangout with a group of guys before, especially guys who were on the fringe of being considered megastars. Not to mention he had a dangerous smile that could stop time and heal the wounded.

“Thanks anyway,” I walked back over to the gate, passing him, feeling his eyes on me. Soft leather scent mixed with sandalwood and sage hit me like a gust of wind before a violent thunderstorm. Failing to avoid anymore eye contact, I placed the key back into the device that lowered and raised the gate. Then I waited, trying not to stand impatiently like I was kicking him out of the store. I don’t think I had to try too hard.

“Well, good night Cayden. I was happy to help you avoid the clothes ripping and hair pulling associated with being a rock star.”

“True,” he laughed. “You saved me big time. This is my lucky jacket.” He smiled sadly as he bent his way under the partially closed metal, entering the now dimly lit mall walkway. Reluctantly, I brought the gate the rest of the way down, keeping me safe within the small store I knew too well.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come hang out with us? It doesn’t seem like you need to get home right away.” He looked at me pleadingly through the thin metal bars and gently clasped the gate with both hands. At that moment I wasn’t sure if it was he or I who looked like a prisoner.

“Hey, next time you’re in town. You know where to find me? Just find the scent of dog treats and wasted cash.” He seemed to enjoy my corny, cynical sense of humor which often didn’t go over well with many people. Even though I stood my ground with every fiber of my being, he looked like a lost puppy not wanting to leave. Which I guess was fitting, considering I worked in a pet store.

“Okay,” he backed away defeated. “It was nice meeting you, Agatha?”

“Agatha?”

“Yeah, you still haven’t told me your name, so I will assume you are a lady of mystery.” He turned to walk away.

“Maeve!” I yelled before he could get any further away. He stopped, turned, and gave me another one of those killer smiles.

“I’m Maeve. Maeve Wicklow.”

“Beautiful.” He waved one more time then continued further into the darkness of closing time.

I continued with my end of the night duties – cleaning, straightening, counting the register. But then I added cursing myself out to the list that night.

“Who are you kidding, Wicklow? You’re never going to see him again. He’s probably hitting on some silky-haired, big-titted blonde at a party right now.”

I really didn’t believe the last part, but it made me feel somewhat better. I strolled out into the parking lot exhausted, not from work, but from lament thicker than the dank New Jersey air.

“Maaaaeve!” bellowed an unfamiliar voice as I fished for my keys in the outside pocket of my backpack.

The voice came from a big bus, lit up by the lamppost it was parked under. Moments later, there he was, running towards me before I could even think about putting my key into the door of my mother’s tattered old LeSabre.

The Boys and the Boardwalk

“Dude, all that’s besides the point. You had a cool chick in the palm of your hand and you just walked away like a damn fool. Man, haven’t I taught you not to be a spazz with the ladies!”

“Quinn, it’s not like you’ve been racking up points with females, ya airhead,” Kyler threw a piece of popcorn at my chucklehead of a best friend, which Quinn effortlessly caught in his mouth.

“Hey, nothing could be worse than his layups,” I loved teasing him about his inability to close the deal on the court..and in other areas. He liked pretending to be the James Bond of the group, always getting the girl in the end.

“Ha ha, smart ass,” Quinn flipped me off. “Look, all I’m saying is, you could have been more convincing if you think she is what you say she is,” Quinn washed down the popcorn by guzzling a Coca Colas then crushing the can.

“Yeah, how are we going to know for sure if you never see her again, Cay D.” Young Rian, sitting at our “kitchen” table with his school books open, was the only one in the group I allowed to use that nickname.

“Don’t worry about it, Ree. She’s probably not it. Cayden has had this feeling many times before,” Donavan, in his signature bass voice, tried to shut down Rian’s hopes.

“Don, I know you would be the last to agree. But I’m telling you, if you saw this girl’s drawings, even you would be floored. She’s got to be it.”

“Dude, we’ve been all over the country, all over the world. If you, or any one of us, haven’t found her by now, we never will.” Donavan patted me on the back before hopping up onto one of the bunks towards the back of the bus.

I leaned up against the counter with the tiny sink and one-burner stove that was supposed to be our kitchen. With my arms crossed and my head down, I continued to listen to my brothers’ admonishments for walking away from the girl.

“Hey, come on, bro. Don’t listen to these clowns. There’s only so much you can do, aside from harpooning the chick in the head and dragging her out here, which is highly discouraged of course. Don’t think that’s going to get you laid,” Kyler playfully rustled my hair, which he knew I hated with a passion, so I swatted his hand away.

“Thanks, little bro. I can always count on you to put things in perspective in a wildly inappropriate manner.”

“Spare me, the way you talked about her, don’t tell me you didn’t want to bang her brains out.”

“It’s not like that Kyler. I’m interested in this girl for much more important reasons, in case you weren’t paying attention.”

“Whatever, man,” he smirked.

“Love is not lust. The two are poles apart. Love liberates while lust binds. Narayanananda Swami.”

“Thanks Gus, always a big help,” Quinn teased.

Gus, our faithful bus driver, was a man of few words, but he had floppy disks full of quotes in his brain, and he would chime in with one at any given moment. He always found one relevant to the situation, and to me, he was one of the wisest men I knew. Admittedly, I had to stop and think about what Kyler said. Yes, I was blown away by Maeve’s abilities, and it was refreshing to meet someone who didn’t want to throw her panties at me. But I had to admit she was pretty cute. Ah, hell with it. She was beautiful. In a Velma from Scooby Doo kind of way if that makes any sense. But you could see her eyes through her glasses, cat-like and penetrating. She would have probably looked gorgeous with her hair down. Big breasts too, I laughed to myself, hoping the guys didn’t notice the redness in my face caused by visions of her amazing rack. I liked to think of myself as the level headed one, but I was still human. And I had all the time in the world to be human.

“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. Confucius.”

Gus leaned forward over the steering wheel and peered out the windshield. I moved up by him to see what he was looking at so intently. There she was. The poor lighting didn’t help, but I knew it was her walk.

“Hey, Quinn, Kyler, come here!” Rian also jumped up.

“What is it, Cayden,” complained Quinn. “I just poured a bowl of Lucky Charms. I don’t want them to get soggy!”

“That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“The girl. Maeve!”

“Oh shit!” Quinn laughed maniacally then opened the bus door.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Maaaeve!” he bellowed out the door instead of answering me.

“Dude, come on!”

“Okay, I got her attention. It’s all you now, brother.” Quinn waved for me to get off the bus. Once on the ground, I saw her still standing there by her car, probably confused or freaked out.

“Book er, Danno,” he punched my shoulder.

“I swear I’m having Gus drop you off at a funny farm one day.”

“Whatever, get going. Ask her if she wants to go to the boardwalk with us.”

“Since when are we going to the boardwalk?”

“Since now.”

I took a deep breath and ran towards her. I saw her looking for her keys in her bag, so I picked up the pace. Once I got close enough for her to see it was me, she stopped her desperate search.

“Hi.”

“Hello again, Maeve.”

“You are stalking me, aren’t you?” she joked.

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Our Little Angels and Demons Eating Disco Fries – stories and essays about where we’re going right and wrong —an excerpt

“So let’s say an angel and a demon head out to a diner for disco fries. Let me apologize ahead of time for the numerous New Jersey cliches and stereotypes that will probably make their way into this book. I’ve lived here all of my life – spending my childhood and adolescence in the southern part of the state and my adulthood in the northern part. So I am on the fence when it comes to the Taylor ham vs. pork roll division, another all-in-good-fun Jersey stumper I’ll explain later. But for now, let’s take a glimpse at our angel and demon diner date.

Angel: “You know, you should really make our person take a few moments and think about her choices before she acts. Her life is going to end up in the…place she uses to eliminate waste which she likes to call the…I choose not to repeat it.” Angel shoves a large forkful of gravy, cheese, and fries into her mouth, leaving remnants on her cheek and white button down.

Demon: “Lighten up there, Mrs. Rogers. She’s got to look after herself and do what she’s got to do. Let her be a screw up, builds character. You know, plenty of angels fall. Hell, look at me!” Demon’s face puckers as she bites down on the lemon from her iced tea glass then wipes her hands with the napkin on her lap.

Angel: “You make it sound like that’s a good thing, Mrs. Manson.”

Demon: “It is! Without me she’d never be able to destress, detach, detox, and most importantly she’d never get laid, get paid, and would give way too much of a fuck about everything.” She picks at small, soggy leftover pieces of French fry.

Angel: “Ugh, are you aware of how disgusting you allow yourself to get? If it wasn’t for me, she would be a complete loser with no compassion, no honor, no articulation, no-”

Demon: Matthew 7:1 my friend. Matthew 7:1. Or does that not apply anymore? From the looks of things, that might have died with Lennon.”

Matthew 7:1 refers to, “Judge not that ye be not judged.” It’s difficult for the average person to find validity in this verse. We judge and we are judged on a cellular level. It’s as unavoidable as a bad internet date or a lousy slice of mall pizza. But what if I said that maintaining disciplined judgement doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person? What if every time we passed judgement, which we all do consciously and subconsciously, we turned it into something productive and illuminating? We can’t make a decision about somebody’s character and then pour resin over it. But we can, and should, make that judgement more malleable. This is where intuition comes into play. Yes, our guts can screw us over in a myriad of ways. But as Albert Einstein once said, “The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift.” Some of the world’s most brilliant minds didn’t find their places in the world by being rationale. If I had to pick a quote that would sum up this whole book, Einstein’s would be it.

It is our intuition that saves us from servitude and disillusionment. It is our intuition that saves us from deception as well as physical, mental, and emotional anguish. Unfortunately, our intuitions are often silenced, and we can blame society all we want. The truth is, we have no one to blame but ourselves because all of this is our creation. As Generation X continues to age and younger generations take the helm, we have to seriously reevaluate how we’re teaching our kids to function as somewhat stable, usually productive, and regularly tolerant human beings. It seems like the gavel drops before our kids ever get a chance to screw up. When they do screw up, through little fault of their own, recovery is either too much of a slippery slope or that slope isn’t slathered with enough butter…”