Monday, September 24, 2012
Tara Part: Act one, Scene three.
Tara Part: Act one, Scene three.
By Mark William Darus
continued from previous act:
<“Top of the World, Doc. Nice to be here, let me tell you!”
“That is good to know, Bill. Where did you co-”
Cutting off Grimly, Bill enthusiastically exclaims: “Congratulate me!”
“Oh, is today special Bill, and if so, why is that so,” Grimly fights to maintain composure.
Beaming with an ear to ear grin that looked more evil that happy, he informs them, “Today’s my birthday.”>
Act one, Scene three
Locked in fully as things get more intense by the second, Grimly smiles at Bill and extends his hand to shake it. His eyes move slowly from Tara’s swaggering movement to the orderlies and the LPN.
Bill, still smiling like the cat that ate the canary, reaches to grasp it.
“NOW!” Grimly yells setting the room into motion with sudden urgency.
“Wha-” Bill chorts as the biggest of the two orderlies grab to purchase hold as the LPN shoots him with a strong tranquilizer.
Exhaling quick, feeling sweat build on his brow, Grimly says, “Good Work, everyone!”
“What the FUCK did we just see, Doc?” the biggest of the strong-armed men said slightly out of breath.
“I’m not really sure. I’ve never had one born before me…”
The unison of the hive-mind buzzing with unspent energy causing disruption most profound. Single brain attempting control with input crashing in from 5 sources all at the same time. It was like that of turntable in an old railroad yard with many important locomotives going for the main spot to fulfill their obligations.
“Like we weren’t drugged enough?” Kara cuts through the huge amount of white noise.
“Just more loo-fuck wankers holdin’ us down, mates!” Ebony slashes across an open channel.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Phil’s weak voice whimpers.
“My Birthday! My damn Birthday and I got stung? This shit is not happening!” Bill sounding firm and unyielding.
The wasted body soon strapped to the bed gazes upward with eyes glazed over as if a light coating of Elmer’s glue had been applied. Fuzzy world to see.
Far fuzzier to live in.
“Dear Lord, why? Why is this happening? Why does this keep happening? I didn’t hurt anyone at all,” Tara’s mind mutters on, eventually closing the chatter from the others that annoy her so deeply. Her mind taking in the room she’s rolled into. The bright smell of the tiles above her, sounds of the greenish walls surrounding her and the taste of the History Channels documentary on the invasion of Normandy Beach.
Finally falling into the peaceful realms of gentle sounds of burbling water over rock, gently clouded blue skies pleasing to the viewer mixed with scents of fall looming over with that of fresh cut grass. Serenity deserved, Tara falls to sleep.
Alone with herself, Tara tranquilly begins to dream.
She is standing in a long flowing deep blue nightgown, her long dark hair dancing with the warm gentle breeze that crosses. Behind her is a misty landscape of green meadows rising from dense forest between two rises with bluish/grayish skyline in the center.
Scents of heather and lilac dance in her nose, bringing a smile to her face so calm and restful. The timid rustle of the strong leaves of oak and maple trees engulf her, planting her in this place of triumphant nature.
Turning slowly, taking in as much as she can for as long as she can, she raises slender arms to the heavens as she leans her head backward, eyes closed. Tara’s mind goes to a song she’d heard long ago, Why, by Annie Lennox, and how, in this place, she can ponder such things by herself.
Tara looks down to where her feet are planted. Her eyes are treated to the billowing silky sheath on her and how her breasts look small, but firm. Traveling down, spotting her bare feet standing on what appears to be rough granite. ‘good place to stand now, isn’t, it?’.
Tara’s heart is soaring and free.
She is at one with all around her.
“I don’t mean to disturb you, fine lady, but I’m sort of lost. Can you help me, please?” a man asks her with a tone of true sincerity.
Looking toward the voice, Tara twists her frail body to meet its maker. “I’m not sure I can, sir. My name’s Tara. And yours?”
He’s gazing at her like that of a lover waiting to hold the one of his desire.
“My name’s Bill. Very nice to meet you, Tara.”
Beautiful landscape shifting about with the movement of the sun creating a swirling effect surrounding them through dancing shadows and mist.
Through the tossing clouds, a single beam of light from the sun lands upon them.
Tara and Bill embrace. Like that of lovers wanting a comfy place to lay, they draw each other closer.
As a dream can soon become a nightmare.
Mark William Darus 09242012