Monday, September 24, 2012

Ryn Cricket is published: In Circles.





                                  Congratulations to Ryn Cricket!
                                Ryn's book, In Circles is published.


                      I feel very honored to make this announcement.

                Ryn has shared so much with me the last several months. Her permission to post some of her work here, the correspondance between her in Thailand and I as well as her liking both my words and photography.

                      Ryn, you inpsire me in places that keep me pushing.

                      Thank you for making me a small part of this!

                       Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together for Ryn!

                        http://press.crisischronicles.com/2012/09/23/20120919.aspx


                      


The First three parts of Tara.



                  Tara Part: first story written before the world wide web.






                                            Intro to Tara Part.
                      Original title: The Ballad of Tara Part (circa 1994)
                                   By Mark William Darus

        Bright, dark, bright, dark, bright dark, lights flash above her.

          THUD! The bed she is strapped to slams through a door, leading to others on her way to the emergency room arena of Mercy Street hospital.

          Light and black, light and black, her pupils in a constant state of change, unable to soundly focus on anything without a swirling blur.



       Unable to smell anything around her with the oxygen mask taped to her face, she wonders, ‘where the hell am I?’

         Trace sounds, most distant, echoing, she hears: “her BP is steady, but her pulse is not consistent at all. We’ve got to move faster, people.” With those voices, the steady hiss of oxygen fills her ears, as the voices state: “I-I-I-I thi-thi-think we’re, we’re we’re losing losing losing her her her” echoing over and over again as if in some deep cavern.

           Stabilizing her in the ER, planting her in a Suicide Watch area. Tara lays tranquilized as Haloperidol makes her physically unable to react though her mind never stops thinking, wondering, screaming madly. “Who did this to me?”

           Viewing her from behind the two-way mirror, her family and some of the staff look at her with both fascination and outright horror. The amount of dosage given her, she should be knocked out cold, yet she is not and they contemplate why this is.

         “She’s always had delusions, heard voices, been a changeling.” Tara’s sister speaks plainly, looking through the glass that separates them.

          “Yeah, fuck, her voice even changes…” her brother trails off.

          “People, have you even heard of the movie Sybil?” Tara’s eldest brother, highly sarcastically states.

          Fuck them all, we’re okay, aren’t we? Tara thinks. Christ, why can’t I move my arms or legs? Damn them all to hell with their drugs, minds and shit. Fuck them all!

      “hmmm, a Multiple! Can’t say I have seen many of these. We’ll treat her for now, but a better suited facility would be more beneficial for her,” an attending says to the room nestled behind the mirror.

      Days pass placing Tara into a land of sedation and pleasant grounds only embraced by her through barred windows. Lost in a world she did not have any control over, she waits for her chance to bolt.

     “Hello Tara, I’m doctor Franks. I’m here to help you.” a dark haired male said to her in a blank voice. Looking down at her with a look of superiority.

        Tara, clamped to the very bed threatening bed-sores, wanting a shower, wanting to simply stretch her arms out. Wanting to walk and talk without drugs, starring at the man above her.

       “Yeah, nice to fuckin’ meet ya. When can I walk again? Damn it, just let me move my legs a bit, fucker!”

        “We can work on those things, Tara.”

         “Why are you calling me Tara? I’m Kara, you worthless dickhead!”

          “No, you’re Tara.”

           “Asshole, no I am not!”

            “Very well, Kara.” This doctor has a high knowledge of multiple personalities and responds with calm, unthreatening tone.

            Her face changing quickly, as it did in transition from Tara to Kara, Phil sobs in a voice most hurt, pleading “Can’t you just let me move, a little bit, these restraints hurt.”

            “In time I am most sure we can make this happen. What is your name, please?”

             Face twisted, eyes crying completely, mouth twisting as it fights for non-quivering words, “I’m Phil, Dr. Franks. Nice t-t-t-o meet you.”

            “Sorry, Phil. It was not my intention to neglect you.”

           “Thank you, Dr. Franks.”

           “Tara, why did you try to kill yourself?” Franks questioned her with an easy tone, slightly shifting in his leather chair.

     Looking around the tiny world around her, noticing beige walls, white tiled ceiling, grey flooring. Her throat incredibly dry, nearly locking down, she asks, in the tone of a 4 year old, “can I please have a dwink of water.”

        “Sorry. Please forgive me. Of course you can.” Leaning over her, he loosens the arm restraints binding them painfully so close to her, noticing bruises profound. Turning from her, he walks to the sink and fills a glass for her and places a straw into it. He knows this will gain her trust. Small token, but meaning much to the one held.

         Tara begins to move her arms about. ‘Freedom, sweet freedom , they still work! I was worried for a while there.’ She moves her fingers slowly across her high cheek boned face, liking the feeling of something caressing her more than that of air. ‘they must have gone to the way-back on the drugs.’

         “Again, my apologies, Tara, “ Dr Franks says as he hands her the plastic cup.

        He angles her bed to the 90 degree position as the sounds of servo motors make it happen.

        Taking the white and red striped straw into mouth, she happily begins to suck. Liquid annihilating the worst case of cotton mouth in history as she takes in the best tasting water that only the deprived could now. Tongue splashed, lips wet once again as their dry cracks are engulfed and feel mercy from moist grace. Upper torso muscles more alive, mouth tasting the first thing in days.


         Feeling far more capable now to address his question, she says, “I didn’t try to commit suicide.” She looks at him, wanting a rare steak and, maybe, eggs.

       “Sorry, Tara, but your sister did find you nearly dead on the floor of your house.”

        Looking down with a sheepish face, a wavering male voice takes hold and begins to speak. “It wasn’t Tara, Dr. Franks. I tried to kill us. We have suffered for so long I felt it necessary to pull the p-plug and end us. I really d-d-didn’t want to, please believe m-Me! I had-”

       “Phil, you cocksucker! You always try to sell us out!” Kara’s voice sharp and hard like that of a 10 inch butchers knife cutting thin bloody steak.

       Most diligent, recognizing the changes before him, he asks, “Kara, please don’t interrupt Phil. I promise you, you’ll have your chance to speak. Phil, what suffering is that you speak of?”

       Phil talks honestly, “Confusion. We walk into a store with a reason in mind and we forget why. We buy things we don’t need or want. We wanted food and buy socks or candles and wonder why we go hungry hours after arriving home. This is misery. I gave up and tried to kill us.” Phil looks to the ceiling, gazing from that of Dr Franks view.

       “Fucking wanker!” Ebony, a British accented black woman cries out as she descends her fiery glance at Franks. “Mate, you are weak! Off the trolley, buggered, no kippers. You miss Dr. Who so much?”

       “And whom might you be, please,”

       “I’m Ebony, mind-eater!”

        “Grand to meet you, Ebony.” Franks voice, with the greatest of training and experience, wondering of the minefield he has walked into, speaks evenly.

        Watching Tara before him, he asks. “Tara, would you like a cheeseburger?”

        “I can has cheezzburger?” Tara asks the four word answer in three separate and distinctive voices.

        “I’ll order it for you! Any condiments?”

         “ketchup would be nice,” Tara says nearly peacefully.

          “I want lettuce and tomatoes,” Kara states most loud.

           “Tartar sauce! I need tartar sauce,” Ebony exclaims with thick accent.

           “Uh, could I have anchovies, please, Doctor?” Phil inquires meekly.

            Dr. Franks takes a step back as he hears a chorus of three females voices speak from that of a single mouth.

            “No, Phil, we’re not going there!”

             Leaving the room, Dr Franks gets several cheeseburgers with various condiments.

 

 

                       Tara Part: Act one, Scene two

                              Tara Part: Act one, Scene two.
                                         Shout it out loud.
                                    By Mark William Darus

                                  Continued from part one:

<Watching Tara before him, he asks. “Tara, would you like a cheeseburger?”

“I can has cheezzburger?” Tara asks the four word answer in three separate and distinctive voices.

“I’ll order it for you! Any condiments?”

“ketchup would be nice,” Tara says nearly peacefully.

“I want lettuce and tomatoes,” Kara states most loud.

“Tartar sauce! I need tartar sauce,” Ebony exclaims with thick accent.

“Uh, could I have anchovies, please, Doctor?” Phil inquires meekly.

                  Dr. Franks takes a step back as he hears a chorus of three females voices speak from that of a single mouth.

              “No, Phil, we’re not going there!”

          Leaving the room, Dr Franks gets several cheeseburgers with various condiments.>
  Act one, scene two:

            As Dr. Grimly was leaving dietary with a tray full of cheeseburgers, wondering what he’d witness as they were eaten, his digital went off with the message: RETURN TO CONFERENCE ROOM DELTA: STAT.

            Quickening his pace to the elevator. The door opens and he is greeted by several associates.

            “Buying your staff a pig-out there, Grimmers?”

           Shaking his head, answering, “no, just feeding one..” He exits.

           “Wow…”

             As he enters Room Delta he sees Tara on the floor, knees bent upward while being held down by 4 orderlies. She is screaming like a banshee as sweat flows from her face reddened face.

            Setting the tray on the counter to his right, he loudly asks, “What the hell happened?”

            A slender, well tanned blond LPN look at him, shaking her head. “I have no idea, Dr. I was doing my rounds down the hall and I heard screaming and thought I should investigate it.”

          “What did you find when you entered?”

           “She was on the floor pretty much the way she now except she was punching her vaginal area.”

            Grimly looks down at Tara, still fighting to break loose from the orderlies.

           “Dr.” the LPN speaks slowly. “If I didn’t know any better, she looked like she was. Well, giving birth.”

           “Oh, no.” he says while he bends down, getting closer to Tara. “What’s going on, Tara?”

I           In an instant, her faces changes, redness fading, and the heavy sweat ceasing rapidly.

            “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK’S HAPPENING, DICKHEAD?” Ebony’s pissed off voice blasts, her sharp eyes sending daggers at Grimly.

          “Sorry, Ebony. If I knew I wouldn’t have asked.”

            Ebony’s face begin to lose it’s rigid edge, her eyes becoming nearly foggy.

           “Uh, Dr. Grimly, this is Phil. I think she’s having Bill’s baby. I could be wrong. I spend a lot of my life being wrong…”

            The LPN steps back, watching the sudden facial changes before her.

            “5mg’s of Hal, STAT, before she’s starts breaking bones.”

             He is handed a syringe which he quickly administers to her.

              Warmth covering the body on the floor. Drowsy, eyes closing, falling into drug induced rest.

               The Dr. nods at the orderlies to let go. Slowly standing, their muscles aching mildly, wondering what they had just seen.

            With inquisitive tone, the LPN inquires, “Dr. Grimly, is she multiple?”

              Turning his head as he raises it, looking at her while nodding ‘yes’.

              “My God! Dr., is there anything else I can do?”

              “No, I think I have this after these good men place her on a gurney and strap her down.”

               Before anyone could react fast enough, Tara stood up looking somehow taller.

             “Hello Everyone, my name is Bill. I am so very pleased to meet you all!” Bill has a cocky edge to voice matching his overly confident stance, slightly cocked the left.

            A person Grimly has never met from Tara smiles at him, the orderlies and the LPN.



           ‘Damn. Imagine how this would look if Tara were sporting a bikini.’ the Dr. ponders, shutting it down as fast as it had arisen. “Bill, I’m dr. Grimly. How are you, today?”

         “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? Why is that so?" Grimly fights to maintain composure. This event goes beyond anything he's experienced before.

            Beaming with an ear to ear grin that looked more evil than happy, Bill, in full command of room Delta, shouts: "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!"



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

                    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.


 

             Tara Part: The first three parts for continuous reading.

                    Mark William Darus. 09242012.

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