The Devil You Know - Episode III

WHAT’S GONE BEFORE: In Episode II Barney escapes the jocks’ wrath and meets a janitor who says he can help Barney get to MIT.

***

“But, your mom won’t let you go.” Videl looked at the ceiling and tapped his chin with his index and middle fingers. “What would you say if I told you I could help you with that?”

“You’re just a janitor,” scoffed Barney.

“You, of all people, should know looks can be deceiving. Let’s, for the sake of argument, say I have . . . connections.”

Artwork Credit: Matt Ryan

Videl extended a hand and helped Barney to his feet. He guided him to a sink and stood behind him. Barney set his glasses on the porcelain, rinsed his face and patted his cheeks dry with a paper towel. He looked in the mirror and inspected his blurry reflection. He squinted but didn’t see Videl’s image in the mirror. “Where’d you go?” he queried.

“Right behind you,” purred Videl.

Barney turned and there stood the fuzzy janitor, less than two feet away. He spun and checked the mirror; no Videl. He nearly poked out an eye fumbling to put on his glasses. With his eyesight restored, he gazed in the reflective glass but saw only himself.

“What’s going on? How’re you doing that?”

“I’m not doing anything. It’s the natural order of things. I don’t have a reflection. I don’t cast a shadow and I cannot be captured on film.”

“That’s impossible! There’s a scientific explanation,” reasoned Barney.

“Not everything can be explained,” countered Videl.

“Really?” Barney turned his back against the sink. “So what are you, a vampire?” His query dripped with sarcasm.

“There are no such things as vampires,” said Videl. “What I am is the one who can make all your dreams come true.”

Barney scoffed. “And you think Dirk is overreaching. You’ve got a nice little God complex going there.”

Videl chuckled. “Not God, definitely not God; quite the opposite.”

“Oh, what then, the Devil?” asked Barney. I’m clearly conversing with a person who should be on antipsychotics, he thought.

“Ding, ding, ding,” chimed Videl. “Give the lad a prize. Tell him what he’s won.” Videl wrapped his right arm around Barney’s left shoulder and pulled him tight to his body. Barney twitched but was unable to wriggle loose. Videl waved his left hand in a grand gesture. “That’s right, Boy; I’m Satan, Beelzebub, Old Cloots. And I’m here to grant you whatever your heart most desires.” He paused for effect. “You want M.I.T. You got M.I.T.”

“You’re nuts! Let me go.” Barney squirmed, but Videl had his arms pinned to his sides and he lacked the strength to break free. “Help, help me,” he yelled.

“Scream, yell, do whatever you want, no one will hear you,” goaded Videl. “You want to leave?” He relaxed his grip on Barney.

Barney rushed for the door and yanked it open. Before he could take another step, he was hit with the heat of a thousand blast furnaces. Confused, he slammed the door shut. That much heat, would at the very least, cause the door handle to glow red hot, but it was cool to the touch. He cracked the door but the heat was so intense, he could only keep it open for a brief second.

This is nuts. There’s a logical explanation, he thought. I’m knocked out. Yeah, that’s it. Dirk beat me into a coma and I’m in a hospital bed.

END – EPISODE III

Is Barney dreaming? Only Patrick Duffy knows for certain. See you next week.

The Devil You Know - Episode II

WHAT’S GONE BEFORE: In Episode I our genius Barney gets accosted by the star quarterback who insists Barney must rewrite an essay for him or suffer ill effects.

***

Artwork Credit: Matt Ryan

“You understand I expect you to write a kick-ass essay? Triple A-plus. But first you need to learn a lesson.” Dirk patted Barney’s cheek.

At that moment, a flock of cheerleaders glided past and Beefie loosened his hold on Barney, just enough so he could slip from his coat. As soon as his feet touched the floor, Barney sliced through the tree trunks and dashed down the hall. He ran twenty feet before Dirk and company realized what happened and initiated pursuit.

Barney panicked. He knew he was in for a beating once they caught him. The lockers whizzed past as his legs churned. The Tweedle Trio was gaining. He turned down an unfamiliar hall and darted into a boys’ bathroom. He leaned against the door, face beet red, hair matted with sweat, his breath coming in short spurts. It was quiet; he had eluded his pursuers; for the nonce.

Once he was certain he was safe, he staggered to a stall, dropped to his knees and emptied the contents of his belly into the bowl. He grabbed a hunk of toilet paper, wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet. He sat curled up against the stall wall, contemplating his next move.

He had never run from Dirk. He was fairly certain he was only forestalling the inevitable. I’m gonna get my ass kicked. I’d do almost anything to get out of this school, he thought.

“Well, you can’t sit there all day.”

Barney started; positioned in the stall opening was an immaculately dressed janitor. Black wingtips polished to a mirror finish, razor sharp creases on his overall pants and sleeves, the name Videl stenciled in blazing red letters above the left breast pocket.

“Get up. I need to work on the pipes.” His voice was silky smooth with a sinister edge.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Barney whispered.

“Most people don’t,” replied Videl. Barney remained silent. Videl continued, “So, you’ve got a bully gunning for you.”

“What’s makes you say that?” asked Barney.

“Please. You’re holed up in a bathroom, puking your guts out and shakin’ like a lost soul on the river Styx. You’re certainly hiding from something.”

“You don’t know anything,” snapped Barney.

“I know you’re an only child. Your father left on the day you were born and you fantasize that he’s Stephen Hawking. You want to attend M.I.T. but your mother doesn’t want her little boy clear across the country all alone.

“Hell, it was a struggle for her to let you attend high school. And, to top it off, you’re being terrorized by a guy with delusions of stardom. ’Bout sum it up?” finished Videl.

Barney stared at the stranger for a moment, “You don’t know what it’s like to be the smartest person in the room, everywhere you go. No one around here takes me serious because I’m only ten.” He paused as he pondered the magnitude of this statement. “My guidance counselor, Mrs. Flurice, says she has contacts at M.I.T. She says I’d live in a supervised dorm; I’d be well cared for.”

“But, your mom won’t let you go.” Videl looked at the ceiling and tapped his chin with his index and middle fingers. “What would you say if I told you I could help you with that?”

END – EPISODE II

What is Videl planning? Would you trust him? Please return next week and find out.

The Devil You Know – Episode I

WHAT’S GONE BEFORE: Welcome to the first episode of The Devil You Know. The Devil You Know is based on a play I wrote in 2009 which was put up at The Drama Studio in Springfield, MA in February, 2010 as part of the 8th Annual Winter Shorts.

***

“Midas!”

Barney rested his forehead against his locker. How he had come to detest the sound of his own name.

“Midas!

It was not spoken with the nurturing tone used by his overprotective mother or the pseudo intellectual prater of his physics teacher. When spoken by Dirk Ness, star quarterback, team captain and homecoming king, it took on a malevolence that set Barney’s heart racing, caused his palms to sweat and led to the formation of little droplets of perspiration atop his upper lip; he became powerless.

Dirk’s assault on Barney had become a daily ritual since Barney’s first day at Goethe High School. Dirk had decided the ten-year-old genius was his ticket to straight A’s and a college football scholarship. So every morning for the past three months, Barney expected a visit. At first he resisted, but that only led to more pain. Barney reasoned it was just easier to do the jock’s homework.

Dirk, his entourage in tow, adjusted the cuffs of his letterman jacket, pushing them away from his wrists ever so slightly. With each step, Dirk cracked a knuckle as he approached Barney. Three huge teenagers, who comprised three-fifths of the team’s offensive line, formed a wall of beef surrounding Dirk. The goon squad was never far from his side. Barney supposed, and rightfully so, that the Tweedle Triplets imbued the quarterback with a sense of omnipotence.

Barney rocked back from his locker and turned to face his tormentor. He noted that Dirk carried a fistful of crumpled papers and suspected he was disenchanted with the content. Dirk towered over Barney, his chest resting against the ten-year-old’s head. Barney could feel the vertebra of his neck crack as he lifted his chin to peer over the top of his glasses at Dirk’s face. He was thankful his poor eyesight made it impossible to see the anger in Dirk’s eyes. The Beef Brothers stood so close that Barney felt like he was in a vise; boxed in, nowhere to run.

Dirk crushed the papers against Barney’s forehead. “B-minus, Midas, B-freakin’-minus. I told you I needed an A an’ this definitely ain’t an A. What happened to that golden touch, Genius?”

“I . . . don’t . . . know,” stammered Barney. “I . . . I tried my best.”

Artwork Credit: Matt Ryan

“You tried your best? Damn it, Midas, I need an A to stay on the team. If I’m not on the team I don’t get scouted, I don’t get scouted I don’t get a scholarship, I don’t get a scholarship I don’t get into college and I can kiss the NFL goodbye. Is that what you want, Midas, to keep me out of the pros?”

Barney lowered his gaze, his voice barely a whisper, “No.”

“Lucky for you I got a chance to bring up the grade.” Dirk nodded, and Beefie One grabbed Barney by the back of the jacket collar and lifted him to Dirk’s eye level.

“You understand I expect you to write a kick-ass essay? Triple A-plus. But first you need to learn a lesson.”

END – EPISODE I 

I hope you enjoyed the first installment of The Devil You Know and will return next week for Episode II. Please share your thoughts; I welcome the feedback.

A Different Kind of Bug

When I was pursuing my degree in Computer Science, I took an English class that detailed the history of theater. My intent being I wanted any easy class; something I could show up for and pass with little or no effort. Unfortunately, no one told the instructor it was supposed to be an easy A. The professor was very serious in regards to the theater; most likely because he was a member of Actors’ Equity and he played a priest in a funeral scene at the end of one of the Nightmare on Elm Street movies.

I had no idea there was so much history regarding the theater. I had a passing knowledge of Shakespeare – I knew I’d pass up the opportunity to read anything written by the Bard – but that was it. We went over everything from the origins of Greek theater through present times. We discussed various types of theater, such as the black box, proscenium theater and theater in the round.

I learned there is a fourth wall—the invisible wall between actor and audience.

Holy smokes! Who knew?

In hindsight, I suspect this class laid the groundwork for my current love of the theater.

The Drama Studio, in Springfield, Massachusetts, is a conservatory style training ground, aimed at young people ages nine through eighteen. They offer classroom instruction and performance opportunities. It’s a great place for young people to express themselves in a judgment-free zone. Many of the kids go on to major in the arts in college.

The Drama Studio also has a smattering of adult offerings. It was here that I wrote my first play, The Devil You Know, upon which I based a short story of the same name. I also had the good fortune to see the play put up for a weekend during the Studio’s Winter Shorts in January, 2010.

The Drama Studio creates an intimate setting, seating less than 100 patrons. The audience is literally on top of the actors.

On two separate occasions, I had the pleasure of performing in the Drama Studio Winter Short productions. I had not felt such a rush since I played bit parts in high school. There’s something about performing live, even in front of a few people, that gets the blood flowing.

This past weekend, I partook of an adult acting intensive at The Drama Studio. It had been a few months since I had been to the studio and I didn’t realize how much I missed it. I admit, there was some trepidation about spending a chunk of my free time in acting classes, but once I got there, I remembered why I love the theater.

Make no mistake, I will never be confused with De Niro, but it doesn’t matter … I still had fun. I know, it’s not Broadway but it’s the next best thing for me.

Anyone else have the urge to walk the boards?