plenty each morning we toast the bread of unhappiness bufieritthick with remorse atnoon we Mnger overa bowl of procrastination and rehsh backsliding each evening we Mflt regrets and down despair we arelucky \Nelivein aland ofrflenty D. E. GREEN MURPHY SQUARE 19
Treasures and Tiaras Brenton died three months and three days before his 33rd birthday. Syd, as she preferred to be called, was in her backyard dancing to show- tunes, when the harsh bell of the old telephone star— tled her out of her reverie. She knew who was call— ing and why before the ringing... Show moreTreasures and Tiaras Brenton died three months and three days before his 33rd birthday. Syd, as she preferred to be called, was in her backyard dancing to show- tunes, when the harsh bell of the old telephone star— tled her out of her reverie. She knew who was call— ing and why before the ringing stopped. The hos— pice worker’s voice was one she recognized but couldn’t quite put a name to. With a gentle voice the woman confirmed what Syd already knew, Bren was gone. “He didn’t wake up after his nap,” the woman continued, “Tony went to bring him down for din- ner and he was gone.” “Thanks for calling,” Syd said, “and thank Tony for remembering me.” Syd took the phone off the hook and changed the CD to Chopin. The breeze brought the faint scent of lilacs into the screen porch and Syd sank into the ham- mock and started to rock as her subconscious unlocked the memories of childhood summers she and Bren had shared. Sydnee Morgan was 35 years old when her cousin When they were both kids, their mothers, who were sisters, would send them out to Aberdeen, South Dakota for eight weeks each summer. Their great- grandparents, Suzanne and George, lived in a brick house on a tree—lined street. The house wasn’t large, but it did have an attic that was scented with cam- phor and cedar, lavender and lilacs, mold and mem— ories. Every summer, from the time Syd was five, she was driven to the airport with a suitcase of new underwear and sundresses her mother had made She loved the special attention she got from the stew— ardess because she was flying alone. She always got to meet the pilot and get her own pair of wings. Once Bren was old enough to join her, he’d always put his wings on his back and say ‘look at me, I’m a fairy.’ That was a time before fairy meant gay, although in Bren’s case, it was a foreshadowing of his future. Bren was always the dramatic, theatrical one of 20 MURPHY SQUARE Show less
Mrs. Marvin Quinn (Ruby to her friends) had been a widow for four years. The years were taking their toll on her joints and the cold South Dakota winters were too lonely on the farm by by all her- self. “Suzy,” Ruby said one morning in late spring, “when do your grandchildren come to visit?” ... Show moreMrs. Marvin Quinn (Ruby to her friends) had been a widow for four years. The years were taking their toll on her joints and the cold South Dakota winters were too lonely on the farm by by all her- self. “Suzy,” Ruby said one morning in late spring, “when do your grandchildren come to visit?” “They’ll be here together on the first day of sum- mer” Sue replied. “Why do you ask?” “Splendid, splendid,” exclaimed Ruby. “I’m going to move into Barclay Manor this September and I am going to eradicate myself of all the extraneous memorabilia I’ve been collecting over the years.” Sue was shocked by this declaration. Ruby had always insist— ed they’d find her body at spring thaw locked in some exotic yoga position, so stiff the coroner would have to cut a hole in the wall just to get her out the door. Sue tried to disguise her surprise when she answered “Well, that’s exciting news. But what does it have to do with Syd and Bren?” “You know I’ve always been enchanted by the joie de vivre those two precious creatures bring to our dusty little vil- lage” Ruby replied. “Promise me you’ll bring them out on the first Saturday they’re here; anytime after noon would be delightful. Farewell Suzy darling, mark it down, the first Saturday they’re in town.” It was at Mrs. Quinn’s house purging that Syd and Bren were given the treasure chest, as they called the steamer trunk. The trunk and its matching pieces had seen the world. The pieces were covered with travel stickers, and the nicks and cracks on its smooth surfaces were the souvenirs left by years of bouncing in and out of baggage cars on trains and ships. Mrs. Quinn had been a singer and dancer when she was in her teens and twenties. This part of her life wasn’t well known within the town and there was less than a handful of people who were privy to the tales of her youth. Those, like Sue, who knew the stories, were sworn to secrecy. Ruby had been debating the fate of her cher- ished travel set when she heard the Dodge pull into the drive. She didn’t Want it go to just anyone; in fact, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to part with it at all. She had to be practical. There just wasn’t enough room in her suite at Barclay Manor to justi— fy keeping it. Ruby relaxed and knew she’d made the right decision when the children came out of the car. They were dressed right out a movie set. Syd’s height had caught up with her weight and she wore a suit of eggplant purple with a vest decorated with 22 MURPHY SQUARE A¥ A\A \ Show less
the duo. Syd was much more reserved and proper. She didn’t like to be part of arguments or alterca- tions and did whatever it took to keep things run- ning smoothly. Playing the peacemaker all the time at home had turned Syd old before her time. Syd was chubby as a baby and as she grew up, her... Show morethe duo. Syd was much more reserved and proper. She didn’t like to be part of arguments or alterca- tions and did whatever it took to keep things run- ning smoothly. Playing the peacemaker all the time at home had turned Syd old before her time. Syd was chubby as a baby and as she grew up, her height hadn’t quite keep up with her weight. In a family where your waist size was more important than your IQ, Syd tried to make herself invisible whenever possible. It wasn’t a role she really enjoyed playing, but the consequences of letting her true self out were more than she was willing to endure. The summers in South Dakota were her release, when she could be free to eat sour green apples right off the tree, to pluck juicy red raspberries off the bush just like a bird, to take a leaf of lettuce straight from the garden, sprinkle it with sugar and roll it up, just like one of Grampy George’s ciga— rettes. It was a time of eating ice cream with straw— berries for breakfast and cereal with peaches for dinner. It was a time of listening to the rain on the roof of the attic during an afternoon storm and knowing she was safe and loved for who she was. Bren and Syd would love to go up in the attic stor— age room where Grammy kept her trunks of fabrics stuffed full of chiffon, satin, wool, brocade and silk and bits and pieces of lace, pearls, fur, velvet and rhinestones. The two of them kept themselves enter- tained for hours on end making costumes, dolls clothes, puppets or whatever else their imaginations created. Grammy Sue loved having her grandbabies come to stay each summer. She was proud of their good manners and polite behavior. She also enjoyed letting them show off their creativity by letting them dress up in whatever they happened to find in the attic. Sue had another passion: she adored going to rummage sales. “This is our treasure map” Grammy would say as they climbed into “Daisy,” her Dodge, with the newspaper ads circled in red. Syd and Bren would sit on their knees and look out the back win- dow watching the world go by and discussing what treasures they were going to look for. The very best sales were the ones where someone was going to move into a smaller place and they were getting rid of all the extra stuff they’d accumulated during their previous six or seven decades. It was even bet- ter when the person was still around to share the stories of their past with Bren and Syd. MURPHY SQUARE 21 Show less
watercolor lilacs. (Syd’s mother would have been mortified if she knew that Syd had taken apart one of her new sundresses to make the vest. Bren’s mother would have been just as horrified if she knew Bren was the one who painted the lilacs on the vest). Bren was in a chiffon gown of baby blue,... Show morewatercolor lilacs. (Syd’s mother would have been mortified if she knew that Syd had taken apart one of her new sundresses to make the vest. Bren’s mother would have been just as horrified if she knew Bren was the one who painted the lilacs on the vest). Bren was in a chiffon gown of baby blue, which he’d embellished with scarves of green and satin ribbons of white. “You two look absolutely scrumptious!” Ruby exclaimed as they came up on the porch to greet her. “Suzy,” Ruby reached to hug her friend, “you are so fortunate to have such enchanting cherubs in your life.” Sue caught the wink Ruby gave her as they settled down on the porch. “Thank you for inviting us to visit, Mrs. Quinn.” Syd said. “The pleasure is all mine darlings. Come closer and let Auntie Ruby take a good look at you,” Ruby replied as she reached to embrace Syd. “What an elegant suit you have on my dear,” Ruby contin— ued, “Your wardrobe should contain only shades from the cool end of the spectrum. Those hues are so flattering with your dark hair and clear complex— ion.” “Okay, I mean, thanks, OK, umm, do you really think so?” Syd stammered. She’d never been com- plimented on her clothes before. “Absolutely!” Ruby said decisively. “You look simply divine in pants too. It’s a rare jewel that can carry off such an amazing outfit without looking like you’re dressed for a Halloween Party.” Syd blushed and stood up straighter and held her head up high. “Do you like my new gown?” Bren asked, “I designed it myself and Syd helped me stitch it together.” “Bren, you are a water sprite, a nymph, a celestial spirit which has no earthly name.” Ruby answered with her characteristic enthusiasm, “You look like a fairy, ready to fly away.” Bren giggled and jumped off the porch and started to fly around the yard. “Bren, darling, come back here for a moment,” Ruby called. Bren floated back up the steps like a debutante and sank into a deep curtsy. “You’ve forgotten something.” Ruby said as she handed him a pair of elbow length satin gloves. She stood up to place the tiara on Bren’s blond head. “Oh merci, merci, Auntie Ruby,” Bren was delighted in the new treasures. “Come Syd, let’s take a stroll around the plantation.” Bren spoke with a husky southern drawl. “Just a minute, Syd,” Ruby called. “A tiara isn’t quite right for your ensemble. This, however, will MURPHY SQUARE 23 Show less
Straight Man’s Playhouse Where have my doll babies gone? Decapitated and Hanging in a Closet. My brother will not tell me where. The Pendragon’s murdered them With kitchen knives, When I forgot to say my prayers. Or so he Claims While laughing, At the bottom of the stairs STEPHENIE NOGGLE MURPHY... Show moreStraight Man’s Playhouse Where have my doll babies gone? Decapitated and Hanging in a Closet. My brother will not tell me where. The Pendragon’s murdered them With kitchen knives, When I forgot to say my prayers. Or so he Claims While laughing, At the bottom of the stairs STEPHENIE NOGGLE MURPHY SQUARE 7 Show less
The Romance of an Old Man and His Western Sweet like gin-vomit his breath is hard and palpable he asks, between teeth slanted like brown graves a gathering of sickly men enameled leaning up against each other in a slush of gums “Where are the Westerns” Gone, old man a pile of trade paperbacks on... Show moreThe Romance of an Old Man and His Western Sweet like gin-vomit his breath is hard and palpable he asks, between teeth slanted like brown graves a gathering of sickly men enameled leaning up against each other in a slush of gums “Where are the Westerns” Gone, old man a pile of trade paperbacks on dusty shelves disorganized and 97.11% L’Amour they attract only those who read them in their youth. Covers of ox skulls and pistols and leather chap-clad gun slung mustache men A horse, and some twelve dozen yellow pages that fit snuggly in an old man’s hand as he tucks the book into the pocket of a dusty, whitewashed denim jacket and he strides out through the door and he keeps a secret hand on L’Amour SCOTT BIBUS MURPHY SQUARE 9 Show less
Kiss Her movements are a sonnet, A tribute to the splendor of her core. Lids close like blinds over the globes through which the soul is viewed the silence only broken by a staggered release of inhibitions through the lungs. Intimate distance slowly becomes millimeters between lips The heart... Show moreKiss Her movements are a sonnet, A tribute to the splendor of her core. Lids close like blinds over the globes through which the soul is viewed the silence only broken by a staggered release of inhibitions through the lungs. Intimate distance slowly becomes millimeters between lips The heart trembles. Unspoken reassurance of heartfelt emotion brings her closer The sweet breeze of breath wafts into my slightly ajar mouth. An internal smile is shared Then, subtle contact. We are enveloped by a bubble of comfortable warmth Through which no needles of surrounding environment can penetrate. Brought together by some strange fate Of which any explanation would be futile. Lips dance as though they are following steps To an old slow Righteous Brothers’ tune. The smile returns to our hearts. CHRIS CARR 10 MURPHY SQUARE Show less
Walking At Midnight ‘ 6 baby, huh?” She turned her gaze to the puffy man next to her. Seeing his eyes Afill with tears, she pulled a crumpled piece of a bar napkin from her pocket. Vodka stains still marked the wild nights before and stung his dilapidated eyes. “My belly’s bein’ eaten from the... Show moreWalking At Midnight ‘ 6 baby, huh?” She turned her gaze to the puffy man next to her. Seeing his eyes Afill with tears, she pulled a crumpled piece of a bar napkin from her pocket. Vodka stains still marked the wild nights before and stung his dilapidated eyes. “My belly’s bein’ eaten from the inside and I gotta get rid of the killer.” Her heroine hands shook and rested on his crucified face. She kissed the corners of his forehead. He said he loved her and she knew their track marks would not fade. “I have ta go back out an’ spread for cash, but who’ll want me now?” Drugged bills lay on the table in front of her, white talc edges and rolls. She turned her face to the floor. Drops of blood from her cocaine nose hurried into her mouth, but she pulled on her red and black stilettos, zipped her black leather skirt, and smothered her face with white powder and red lipstick. She looked in the mirror, combed her gnarled hair and nodded. She was dressed to walk her body. LYDIA NOGGLE 12 MURPHY SQUARE Show less
