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Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Faces, Part 3.

Well things are going swell here, and I'm still working on shot planning for Siblings 2. I'm still shooting for the August 20'ish deadline.

I think we can do it.

It won't be easy, fun, or even mildly enjoyable, but we can do it.

:)

As for faces, it's doing way better.

In fact, I've updated the PDF file.

I recommend reading the PDF file, as it has retained the proper format for stories.

If you don't want to read the PDF file, I have posted part 3 below.

I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is welcomed, as always. :)

Here ya go!



Part 3.




A small light bulb flicked on, and shone through a round piece of red plastic. These two items were fastened together in a waterproof box, and hung on a steel pole over the street. With just sixty watts of electricity, a light bulb had completely stopped hundreds of tons in steel, rubber, and gasoline. Jack just stared at the stop light helplessly. The old Scot was obviously frustrated with the hold up.

“This is ridiculous! I wanna know who owns that confounded light switch!” His accent was strongest in his moments of deep reflection, and moments of anger. This was a case of the latter, of course.

Jack’s Mother teased him cheerfully. “Look out now! He’s turning into a Wallace on us!” Jack chuckled at this, and relaxed a bit.

“Tell me more about Josh. You say he's a rather strange sort of lad.”

“Oh he is. Been gettin’ stranger all the time. The first time he ever rode on my bus, he was very shook up about something. He wouldn’t tell me what, but I liked him for it. I told him to come talk to me sometime. A few days later, he did. He didn’t say anything about the crying, or anything about himself at all. Mostly he asked questions about me. He was a good lad. A sharp one, yes he was. But as he came to know me better, his began to trust me with the other half.” The Scot paused, looking out the windows at other frustrated drivers and their vehicles. His Mother couldn’t stand the delay.

“What other half? It's rude to leave a body hanging Jack!”

“Patience Mother! Don’t be rushin’ things.”

“Ha! To hear you talk of patience, when you can’t even sit still for a red light!”

“Ah yes. I’d nearly forgotten about that. Thanks for the reminder.” Jack leaned out the window and hollered at the light, “Alright, you’ve won! I give up!” Those same sixty watts that had powered the red glow, changed their course, and ran to the bulb shrouded in green.

“See Mother, when patience doesn't work, you've just got to speak your mind.” Jack stated, quite pleased with himself. “Anyway, about that other half. The other half of Josh is what you've never seen. What I've only told you about. He's... depressed. Bitter, angry, maybe guilty. That's the Josh that's been coming out more and more lately.” Jack's face grew dark and tense along with his voice. “He's two different people. When I see him change from Josh to that hideous wretch.... It haunts me. I think something has changed that he can't accept, and he blocks out anyone who reminds him of it.” Jack paused for a thought filled moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “Ah, I don't know. Anything in particularly you were wantin' to know?”

She thought for a moment. “Where does he live?”

“Now that's a good question. I've never seen his home exactly. He runs all over the city in my bus, but he never really goes to any one location repeatedly. He knows when my bus will roll through a place, and how to get there in time to catch it. I really don't understand it completely, I just follow along trying to glean information. He's no ordinary soul, that's for sure.”

Mary pondered the situation silently, and Jack started humming an old Scottish ballad. A smile crossed Mary's face, and she said “Well Jack, from what I've seen, Josh is a fine specimen of a boy.” She paused for a moment, then continued teasingly, “You don't suppose he's got a little Scottish in him, do ya?”




___________________________________________________________




It was six in the morning. The rain drizzled again, but with the sun just rising in the distance, the freezing droplets of torture had become crystals of majestic beauty. In an abandoned ice cream shop at the edge of town, Josh and his friend Amy, the girl he had so willingly 'avenged', were taking it all in.

“It's just so gorgeous!” Amy whispered excitedly. Josh stared at the gleaming crystals for a few minutes before turning to Amy. He looked at her nearly the same way he did the ice, but the ice was nothing compared to her face. He stared at her for a moment, then looked back out the cracked windows.

“I've seen prettier things.” he said, sounding almost uninterested.

“Oh sure you have, Mr. 'I've been to Paris.' What could be prettier than this?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

“Israel.” Josh replied, speaking the word with an almost worshipful tone.

“Israel?” She asked, surprised by the quick reply. “Why Israel?”

“The people there are fighters!” he said, eyes sparkling. “Think about it Amy! They've endured more hardships and suffering than any race on earth, and yet through all of the persecution, they've survived!”

“C'mon Josh, everybody gets pushed around once in a while.”

“Not like the Jews. They're always being attacked or mistreated by somebody. Their lives have been hell from day one. When they wanted to reestablish their nation, every obstacle stood in their way. Hitler. The British. The Arabs. The most worthless land in the world. It was either swamp or desert. Yet they fought through it all!”

“Well what about Scotland? You haven't been there yet, and they're fighters too!”

“No need for that. I see Scotland everyday!” Josh said, smiling his familiar smile. “You know Jack, the bus driver I've told you about? He's pure Scot. As for Israel, I've yet to meet a Jew who was a real fighter like those I've read about.”

Now it was Amy's turn to look at Josh. He was no small bit of wonder either. His face wasn't hard, but it wasn't soft. His eyes shone at the thoughts of people who had died nobly for the cause of freedom.

“You're a fighter too Josh.” She said softly. He turned his head and looked into her eyes. The smile faded from his face, but his eyes still sparkled.

“Nothing to it.” He said. “Just take out the big guy first. He usually doesn't know the first thing about fighting, and when he goes down, the others get scared. It's easy to work with a frightened opponent.”

“Josh,” she started, pausing a moment before continuing, “Who- Who taught you to fight?” She'd gone too far. He turned away, any expressions of joy gone from his face. His jaw muscles worked slowly in and out.. Amy looked at him worriedly, hoping she hadn't killed the magical moments they were sharing. He remained silent, and she turned back to looking out the window. The frozen wonder had melted, and the sun, now shrouded in clouds, no longer held it's magic pose. The world was once again just a cold, wet prison.

“My Father.” Josh said stiffly. “My Father taught me to stick up for myself in case he ever-” his voice caught. He gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes hard. He was opening further than he ever had before. “In case he wasn't able to protect me from a cruel, hate filled world.” Josh's lips quivered. “And I just...” He froze, holding back something. Amy held her breath, waiting for the words to come out. Josh turned away from her, and wiped an invisible tear from his face. When he turned back, it scared her. His eyes were shining again, and he was smiling.

“This has been a blast hasn't it?” he asked her, as though nothing of importance had happened. “I should get out more often.”

“Yes, you should.” she replied honestly, marveling at how he'd shifted so quickly.

“Well, time flies when you're having fun. I gotta get back to my place pretty quick, I think.” He pulled back the sleeve on his jacket. “Dang it!”

“What is it?”

“Oh, I must have left my watch back there in the tangle with Kyle and company. I'll bet one of them is wearing a very nice watch right now.” As he said this, Amy started giggling.

“Don't worry, I don't think they'd touch that watch with a ten foot pole!”

“Oh come on Amy! It's not that bad, is it? I rather like it!” He smiled warmly as she continued to laugh. “Laugh all you like,” he continued, “But please permit me to escort you home while you do so, fair maiden.” He bowed dramatically.

“You may!” She giggled some more. She was tired, but somehow, it only made her more radiant.