Upton Hollow

Jakamus Crouch lived in a clock. Well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say he lived in the tower in the middle of Upton Hollow that held a clock. The tower was 10 feet more narrow at the bottom than it was at the top, and rose an impressive five stories, but looked even taller because it stood by itself without any other buildings within fifty feet by which to compare height. At the top of the tower was a spectacularly ornate clock that had 2 too many hands and always ran 3 minutes fast. The clock face was so large and the bottom of the tower so narrow that indeed it looked like it might topple over at any moment. And living inside the tower, right behind the clock, was Jakamus Crouch…

The people of Upton Hollow would tell you that they all kept to themselves, and I suppose that was true if you turned a blind eye to the remarkable amount of gossip that at times seemed to keep the town alive.  Nothing new ever happened in Upton Hollow, so the only real entertainment anyone enjoyed was any morsel of news they could squeeze out of their limited neighbors.  

This news would circulate like wildfire. Like the time Millicent St. Cathpoole accidentally locked the cat outside overnight.  She discovered the poor, shivering feline before the sun had risen, but not before Charles Spurgen had seen it during his morning milk run.  Half the town had heard about Millicent’s error by breakfast, and the entirety of Upton Hollow was talking about it by lunch.

But sure, they all kept to themselves.

The truth of the matter was, since Upton Hollow was so small, and nothing new ever happened there, everyone effectively knew everything about everyone.

Except Jakamus Crouch.

Everyday, he would descend from the clock in his tower wearing a vivid blue jacket and a red vest with black embroidery.  A long, gold chain always hung across his front that was attached to a pocket watch that everyone knew didn’t work – but that didn’t stop Jakamus from checking it at least ten times a day. 

He would wander the town, stopping first for coffee or tea – depending on his mood – at the Stained Doily before making his way to the Common at the end of High Street where he would pull out a brilliantly colored leather bound book and start to read.  No one knew what he was reading because none of the books ever had a title on its cover, and no one had ever seen him reading the same book twice.

Even on the sunniest of days in the middle of summer, he always carried a large, black umbrella with a hooked handle.  According to Geraldine Fitzsimonly, she had once asked Jakamus why he always carried this umbrella.  According to Geraldine he had said, “Because one should always be prepared for the unexpected.”  Not many people believed Geraldine’s story because if there’s one thing everyone knew it’s that Jakamus Crouch hated question.

Hate might be a strong word.  Perhaps it would be more appropriate to say he didn’t entertain questions, but then, he didn’t entertain much of anything.  Try and talk to him and he would likely start to wander away before you had gotten ten words out.

It was common to come upon Jakamus feeding ducks down by the lake, or enjoying a private picnic on a worn tartan blanket atop the hill that overlooked the abandoned train tracks that ran out of town.  The lake was too silty for most of Upton Hollow’s residents to swim in, and  no trains had come into town for as long as anyone could remember, so Jakamus was usually guaranteed his privacy, but the second he saw he was not alone he would pack up his things and make his way to leave before anyone had the chance to make a comment about the weather.

Given all you’ve heard now about Jakamus Crouch, it might surprise you to learn that despite his stand offish and quiet demeanor, Jakamus Crouch always looked like he was smiling.  Not a big, tooth grin like some fools might sport, but a subtle smile that made its way up to his vivid, green eyes and made them sparkle so brilliantly they sometimes looked blue.

It’s true, he only spoke when he felt he absolutely must, like when he ordered his morning tea or coffee at the Stained Doily, but when he did speak he seemed so amused by himself and the people he was interacting with that he couldn’t help but laugh.  I wish I had a way to convey to you what his laughter was like, but alas, anything short of hearing it for yourself will not do.  Suffice to say, no one has ever heard Jakamus Crouch laugh and failed to join.

His spirited energy yet mysterious behavior made Jakamus one of the most interesting and talked about people in all of Upton Hollow.  As is the way with such towns, stories about Jakamus Crouch were often told then repeated with very little reconnaissance devoted to ascertaining the origins of such stories.  With time, the line between what was fact and what was fabrication became harder to draw, but honestly most of the citizens of Upton Hollow didn’t particularly care.  Jakamus Crouch was the most interesting person in town, and that was that.

My advice is this: don’t trust anything you hear about Jakamus Crouch. That includes everything that I just told you…

Jakamus Crouch

Jakamus Crouch lived in a clock. Well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say he lived in a tower in the middle of Upton Giggleswick that held a clock. The tower was 10 feet more narrow at the bottom than it was at the top, and rose an impressive five stories, but looked even taller because it stood by itself without any other buildings within fifty feet by which to compare height. At the top of the tower was a spectacularly ornate clock that had 2 too many hands and always ran 3 minutes fast. The clock face was so large and the bottom of the tower so narrow that indeed it looked like it might topple over at any moment. And living inside the tower, right behind the clock, was Jakamus Crouch…

Samantha and the Thread Bare Teddy Bear

The other day, Samantha was walking through the forest behind her house when she came across a newly fallen tree. She knew that it was newly fallen because she had climbed this tree just the other day, when – lost in a day dream – she tossed a tennis ball she was juggling a little too high and it had gotten stuck in the branches. 

These woods were as much a home to Samantha as the house at the end of the cul-de-sac where Mrs. Samantha welcomed her back from school every day. Spring to Summer to Fall she knew what every leaf and cranny of these woods looked like, so when something fell out of place, she noticed.

On this particular day there was something most unusual to distract her.  First – as we already discussed – there was the newly fallen tree to attract her attention.

Samantha wandered off her normal path to investigate the new canopy this fallen tree provided.  It had fallen in such a way that it was now leaning against three neighboring trees and the branches hovered five feet above the ground, providing a roof of leaves.  It really was the perfect place to indulge the wild imagination of a young girl who had wandered these woods a thousand times.

But this wasn’t what immediately caught Samantha’s attention, for you see underneath the canopy was an old stump from a long forgotten tree, and sitting on this stump was a thread bare teddy bear with its paw pressed against its forehead – as though the thread bare teddy bear were deep in thought.

Samantha thought it most unusual that someone should leave a teddy bear in the middle of her woods, so she stepped forward to get a closer look.  Just as she reached the stump the thread bare teddy bear moved, lowering its paw and looking up at Samantha.

“Good afternoon,” said the thread bear teddy bear.

Samantha found it most curious that a teddy bear should be talking, but the thread bare teddy bear didn’t seem to notice it was strange and Samantha didn’t want to be rude, so she let it go without mention.

“And a good afternoon to you too,” Samantha replied.  She also held out her hand and shook the teddy bear’s paw for good measure.

The thread bare teddy bear seemed very impressed by Samantha’s show of professionalism, and nodded its fluffy head in appreciation as it took Samantha’s hand.

There was a moment of silence between the two before Samantha, fearing she was being impolite by not saying anything, added “This canopy is most attractive.  I dare say it will make for a perfect shelter if it ends up raining today.”

The thread bare teddy bear’s eyes widened at this and it replied, “I do hope you’re joking! I’m not prepared for rain today!”

It took a lot of effort for Samantha not to laugh at this.  The sky was full of dark clouds, and a talking teddy bear failing to prepare for the eventuality of rain on such a day felt very careless indeed.  The thread bare teddy bear began looking up at the sky as though it were going to start pouring at any moment.

“How rude of me,” Samantha spoke in an effort to break the tension. “My name is Samantha.”

The thread bare teddy bear’s eyes widened in alarm and it hopped off its stump as it threw its paws up to cover its ears.

“Oh no! No! No! No!” the bear said.

Samantha, not understanding what she had done wrong asked, “What? What did I do?”

The thread bare teddy bear calmed for a moment so it might look directly at Samantha as it said, “You must be careful with names.”

Samantha wasn’t sure at first whether this teddy bear was joking or not.  It seemed such an incredulous thing to say, and yet it seemed very serious all the same.

“I suppose I’d never thought about it that way,” Samantha finally answered.

Slowly, the thread bare teddy bear began to walk up closer to Samantha, fully taking her in with every step.

“There is so much in a name.  Until now I knew nothing about you.  Who you were.  Where you came from.  With just one name I can glean so much.  Knowing nothing about me, it is really careless to just throw that information away as though it were nothing.”

This made Samantha feel rather uncomfortable.  “Well, I hadn’t really thought about that either.”

The thread bare teddy bear seemed distraught over Samantha’s cavalier attitude towards names.  “What if I meant you harm?” The teddy bear asked.

Samantha took a small step backwards.  “Do you?”

Suddenly, the thread bare teddy bear ran up to Samantha, climbed her leg and shimmied up till it was holding onto Samantha’s shoulders and looking directly into Samantha’s eyes.

“Your eyes are so light.  And their color, it’s like a swirl of green and brown and amber.”

Samantha didn’t know if this was an insult, a compliment, or just an observation.  Either way, the abrasive way the teddy bear had climbed her body made Samantha a bit uneasy.

“Thank you,” Samantha said as she tried to pry the thread bare teddy bear’s paws off her shoulders.  But the teddy bear’s grip was true, and the harder Samantha clawed at its paws the tighter the teddy bear gripped.

“You have to be careful Samantha!” The teddy bear cried.

“Why do I need to be carful?”

The thread bare teddy bear took one paw and put it so it rested on Samantha’s chin.  “Because she might find you.”

A clap of thunder roared above them. The thread bare teddy bear suddenly dropped to the forest floor, collected itself and started to dart away.

“Who is she?” Samantha called out after the bear.

The teddy bear spun around and urgently put its paw to its mouth. “Shh!!!” it hissed before looking around to make sure it hadn’t been heard and running off in a panic.

It was only one minute later that it started raining.  Samantha hadn’t brought an umbrella or anything with her, but that was because she didn’t particularly mind the rain.  She allowed herself to get wet as she wandered in the direction of her house.

The rain started coming down harder and harder, after a few minutes Samantha felt that she had maybe made a mistake not coming prepared for the storm.  This amount of rain could get a young girl in trouble.  Already she was starting to slip and slide across the mud and twice came very close to tumbling off the edge of the ridge she was walking along.

Deciding it would be best to get onto an actually paved road, Samantha made a right where she would usually turn left, knowing that this would bring her closer to some homes and streets she could make her way home on.

As she came out of the forest into a clearing the rain started coming down even harder.  By now the water was like buckets  being poured on her head, she could barely see a few feet in front of her.  She kept moving forward, figuring the rain had to relent at some point, but somehow it kept coming down harder.

Through the rain up ahead she spotted a building.  It was an old white home that she believed she had seen before, the bottom floor was an old consignment store where someone sold antiques that no one wanted.  Deciding she would like a reprieve from the weather Samantha decided to bolt towards the house.

There wasn’t a sign to confirm that the store was open, but the front door was unlocked, so Samantha allowed herself in.  One step in the scent of mold and moth balls filled her nose.  There was a stuffy and dusty air about the place that was a bit unnerving.

All around her were tables and display cases weighed down by trinkets and tchotchkes of every kind.  Old clocks that had long stopped working, half complete glass sets and brass decorative pieces with no discernible use.

Making her way through the aisles Samantha was oblivious to the pool of water she left behind her.  The store was proving to be both fascinating and terrifying in the most exhilarating way.  Walking further in even the pattering sound of the rain started to fade away, leaving only silence.

“My name’s Darling.”

Spinning around Samantha’s eyes widened.  She hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room.  Looking around she still couldn’t see where the voice had come from, she was – in fact – completely alone. Her heart started beating a little faster, but the only thing new in the room was the water she had left behind her.

Slowly, Samantha turned to continue her exploration, a little more trepidatious than a minute ago.

“My name’s Darling.”

This time a short giggle came after the words, and it lasted just long enough that Samantha was able to pin point the direction the voice had come from.  To her right was a large white furniture piece with glass paned doors.  In front of it was a large pile of china plates.  She took another step closer.

“My name’s Darling.”

Samantha noticed a hand poking out from the pile of plates.  Small, porcelain and tender.

“My name’s Darling.”

Samantha grabbed the hand and pulled. Out popped an old, porcelain doll.  It was in a white, lace dress and bonnet with curly brown hair poking out of the corners.  The doll appeared to be dressed like a small child, but the face looked eerily like an adult.  Its eyes were a vivid light blue that stood out against the pale face.

“My name’s Darling,” the doll said as Samantha continued to stare at its haunting face.

“Who are you?”

Samantha wheeled around.  Standing a foot away from her was an old woman with fly away gray hair, staring down at her like a hawk.

“I’m sorry, are you not open?” Samantha asked, trying to pull herself together as quickly as possible.  Instinctually, Samantha hid the doll behind her back, feeling as though she shouldn’t have been holding it even if she knew she had done nothing wrong.

The old woman took Samantha in for a minute before asking again, “Who are you?”

“Samantha.  I’m Samantha,” she answered.  Feeling self conscious that she was still holding the doll Samantha offered it back to the old woman.  The old woman looked at the doll then back at Samantha before turning and walking towards the front of the house.

“Don’t break anything,” she called over her shoulder as she left Samantha in the back room, alone.

Samantha turned her back to the front of the store, and lifted up the doll to get a better look at it.

“My name is Darling.”

The doll’s eyes seemed so sad.  The closer Samantha looked at them the more off something felt about them too.  They didn’t match the rest of the doll.  They were a little more life like than the rest of its face.

“My name is Darling.”

Samantha’s eyes started to water, they were suddenly feeling incredibly heavy.  She hadn’t realized how tired she was.  It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open.  It was so warm in the store and the air so thick.  Deciding it was alright to rest them for just a moment, Samantha allowed her eyes to close for the quickest moment.

Opening them back up, Samantha couldn’t understand what she was seeing.  The room was dark now, as though hours had passed. But more alarming, she wasn’t looking at the doll in her hands anymore, she was staring out at the store from up high.  She tried to move her legs, but nothing happened.  Next she tried to turn her head but still nothing happened.  All she could do was move her eyes around.  She couldn’t understand how, but she was on top of the white cabinet. Panic set in, and her breath became more and more frantic as she realized she couldn’t move at all.

Samantha strained her eyes – as they were the only part of her that could move –  to take in as much as she could when she saw a soaking wet shirt walking away.  Her eyes widened, it was her shirt.  It was her back.  That was her body walking away.

When it got to the front of the store, Samantha watched as her own body turned around and looked directly at her.  She was looking directly at the face she knew from the mirror, and two light blue eyes that weren’t her own.  In its hands the Samantha imposter was holding the thread bare teddy bear, its head no longer attached, its eyes dark lifeless beads.

Samantha watched as the face broke into a sickening and sinister smile, then opening it mouth said, “Thank you very much, Samantha.”  And with that, it turned and walked out the door.

Unable to move, Samantha watched in horror as her own body walked away.  Unable to speak.  Unable to scream.  

From this spot on top of the cabinet, she sat as the world continued around her, forgetting that she was there.  Days came and days went, and there she sat, trapped in the porcelain body of a doll, forced to watch as the occasional shopper entered the store and walked the aisles beneath her. From time to time a person would come up close enough that Samantha thought they might reach out for her, but in the end no one ever did.  And unable to move, unable to speak, Samantha was forgotten; and no one ever noticed the strange doll on the high shelf, or the hazel eyes that so often were crying.

Empty House

An empty house is full of echoes

with nothing left to make them.

I stood at this window for five years

and watched this corner of the earth.

What a fucking random corner

But I liked it.

My voice bounces off the walls

and fills the halls with resonance.

Without the bookshelf to lure it in

or couch inviting it to rest

my voice could go on forever

Echoing long after I’ve left;

which will be five minutes from now.

Left Hand Turn

Why should it matter if I turn left

and travel down this road?

The path before me guides my feet

to lead me to familiar destinations

faces, voices, conversations

these Things that I call home.

I return a weary warrior from the day

my battered armor hanging from my lank frame

and if I stay my path

what welcome will await me?

Warm, comfortable home

I think about you as I travel

I hope for nothing else;

Like a comet drawn to your gravity

round my celestial orbit

I return to your pull, your allure, your embrace.

I cannot tell my path from traffic

or see what traffic may surround me

Normal, Comfortable, Familiar, Warm

who wouldn’t crave such predictable treats?

My gallows march continues

I might walk forever, on and on

and know nothing apart from happiness.

Forever lies ahead of me

the future is at the end of this road

and my eyes are ahead

fixed upon my path and the prize that is ahead of me.

I’m happy that I’m moving forward

even if it’s back and forth.

I’m content with what I have

and what I still have waiting for me.

So stepping forward I soldier on

and head into the future

Never noticing that you were next to me

slightly to the left.

I saw my love

As I was a walkin’ the sands of the shore

I saw my love

While fearin’ she’d missed me

she grabbed me and kissed me

My only love. 

We walked the farthest reaches

across ten thousand beaches;

And then when our footprints had guided us home

I held my love. 

Then God looked and noticed that I found his angel

He saw my love

And called her to come to where angels are from

Far from her love

And from the skies my swallow

Was begging me to follow

And after one hundred more years filled with silence

I saw my love. 

The flowers in the field

The flowers in the field are golden, golden

How long will their color stay?

If the sunlight halo showers flowers

Gold will stay another day. 

The flowers in the field are golden, golden

But the coming clouds are grey;

If the stormy rain cloud showers flowers 

You’ll see gold another day. 

Flowers in the night are sleeping, sleeping 

Moonlight can ignite their bed,

But without the sun to wake them, make them

Which way should they turn their head?

The flowers in the field are fading, fading 

Shadows claim the sky and glen.

When the sun returns the color burns

But maybe gold won’t come again. 

Running on Empty

Today the world spun twice around

When half a turn would have sufficed

I thought there was only so much of me

By now I should be empty;

With every hit I come closer to breaking

Yet here I am, still standing. 

It’s best to cry in the shower.

Waters mix with tears

And with enough heat I might lose track of 

What is me and what is water.

The screaming spout steaming out a soothing potion:

Moisture in the air.

Now my eyes will never go red.

The drip drip upon my head

Gives time a different metronome

And to its count I might lose track 

Of minutes. Hours.

Only seconds?

My patience only last so long

I have to move, I have to leave

Eventually

Let’s hope the water stops

With the closing of the faucet.

Rise!

Any person who sings the song

Or drinks the cup of life

We move this world together

So rise, rise, the work waits

I have not had enough

Shoulder to shoulder let us dream 

A better tomorrow than yesterday

Then cast into the world

To find that promising future. 

Surrender

A dark cloud sits above me

It’s belly full and threat’ning

It sits in taunting wait, preparing to explode

And shatter my complacency.

I am haunted by a face

That brought this cloud upon me. 

And here I would surrender 

If the rain would wash me

And Cleanse my body of your memory. 

I surrender!

I surrender!

But the cloud blows away

And here I stand alone

And ever haunted still.