Showing posts with label sancho. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sancho. Show all posts

Friday, January 11, 2013

Strange Faces: Part 5


(read part one here, part two here, part three here and part four here.)


“Quickly, Sancho!” I cried. “We need a young priest and an old priest!”

Twisting the cap off of the bottle of soda, I began to chant “The Power of Christ compels you, the power of Christ compels you!” as I splashed the window with Holy Dew.

I looked back at Sancho, still seated on the couch, now on his phone.  “Dude”, he started, “I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but this is going on YouTube tonight.”

“The power of Chri-“

“Enough!”

My reflection cut me off in mid chant.

Not knowing what else to do, and running low on soda, I sat down next to Sancho on the couch.

“Alright,” I said.  “What do you want from me?”

“What any caged animal wants” he replied. “Freedom. A life beyond the mirror.  An escape from the servitude of reflection.”

I said, “Freedom? No problem”. I waved my arms expansively and said, “You’re free.”

“Done and done” added Sancho. “I know a guy who can get you a fake ID; we’ll get you a job at the mall, maybe at that pretzel place.  You can get us ten percent off. Your name will be Scooter.”

Mmmmm. Pretzels.


“Who do you know that can get fake IDs?” I asked.

“Just…this guy, alright” he replied. “Look, don’t call me on this shit, okay? I'm just spit-balling here.”

“Silence!” shouted my doppelgänger.

“I want more than just a life. I want what you've never used, what you've never wanted”

“My copy of Twilight that Sancho gave me?” Under his breath, I heard my friend say “go fuck yourself”.

Your life” said Scooter, the doppelgänger.

I gulped hard.  “What are you talking about?”

“You walk through this world like a ghost” he said.  “You have no purpose, no motivation, and no goals.  You live your life at a bare minimum.  You have the skill and talent to do so much more and yet you refuse.  You play at being confident and self-assured, successfully hiding the fact that you feel worthless and alone in the world.  Your apathy has caused you to push away anyone who might have got close to you over the years.  There are many who would be your friend if you let them, but you choose only one, Sancho, and only because he’s been around more or less consistently for over twenty years.”

“You think you’re laying some grand truth on me?” I said, trying not to appear shaken.  “I know what I am and I know what I’m capable of.  And my apathy means I don’t give a shit what you think.  Besides, if I’m as pathetic as you say, what does that make you?”

“Lucky” he said.  “It’s your lack of belief in yourself that allowed me to be born.  It’s making me stronger even now.”

Indeed, as he spoke, the translucent reflection was becoming sharper, more defined.  I felt a wave of nausea and my vision became blurred.

“I may not be using much of my life right now” I said, my words beginning to slur. “But I’ll be goddamned if I'm going to let you have it!”

“What’s happening?” I heard Sancho ask weakly.  I turned towards him in time to see him vomit on my laptop.

Will the Geek Squad take care of that? I thought.

Geek Squad. For $30 they'll turn on your computer.

“He coming through again,” I managed to say as I moved drunkenly to pick up my laptop.  Vertigo was slowing overcoming my motor functions.  Through blurred vision, I could see that his hand had already made it across the windows barrier. 

Summoning what strength I could, I flung the laptop at the window, screaming, “An Apple a day keeps the doctor away, bitch!”

The window shattered into a dozen pieces, a hollow scream from Scooter as his image was destroyed; the laptop landed with a crash in the bushes outside. 

“That quip made no sense” said Sancho.  “That wasn't even a Mac.  It was Compaq.”

“Whatever” I said. I wasn't listening.  On the floor beneath the window was Scooters hand, flecks of vomit dotting the appendage; the only piece of him that came through before I broke the window.

Turning back to Sancho, I said “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.”


To Be Continued...


JrX

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Thursday, January 10, 2013

Strange Faces: Part 4


(read part one here, part two here, and part three here.)



“Dude, you’re a vampire.”

“No, I don’t think so.  I have a reflection, it just kinda…left. Besides, it’s still daylight outside and I’m not burning up.”

Sancho had come over a few minutes ago, with a noticeable lack of mountain dew, and I immediately took him to the scene of the crime.  I could see the emotions march across his face as they must have done on mine.  Shock, terror, confusion and an admirable attempt at acceptance through humor.

“I hope I’m not a vampire,” I said. “I wouldn't really mind, but I would have liked to lose a few pounds before spending my immortal life in this pudgy body”.

He said, “Put that shit down. You’re freaking me out.”

The novelty of the situation had already worn off on me and I figured I could mess with his head a little by picking up random objects and moving them around while saying “ooooohhhhhh”.  My razor had already danced a jig seemingly on its own in the mirror and I had moved on to brushing my teeth.  To Sancho, it looked as if the toothbrush was moving up and down by itself, and foam was coalescing out of thin air
Kinda like this, only no, its not like this at all.

“ I'm going to the living room”, Sancho said.

Spitting into the sink, I followed him, stopping in the kitchen to get a half bottle of mountain dew from the fridge. 

Sitting on my recliner across from him, I asked “So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” he replied.  “This is your problem, not mine.  I suggest you burn the house down.”

“No, I can’t burn it down.  I just got settled in.”

“ You've been living here for eight years!”

“Whatever. Keep thinking.”

I knew Sancho would help me if he could.  He just had fuck around with me first.  And maybe charge me. 

I said, “I think we should start by getting some holy water, crosses, shit like that.”

“I thought you said this wasn't vampires?” he replied.

“Hey, how much experience do you think I have with situations like this?  I’m reaching here.”

“Well”, he said, “fuck it.  I guess holy water can’t hurt.  But where are you going to get some? Do they sell that stuff somewhere, or do we have to go to a church?  And what the hell do we tell them if we do?”

“I got that part covered”, I said.  Standing up, I walked across the living room and removed an unframed certificate I had pinned to the wall.  Handing it to Sancho, I said, “Read it and weep.”


“‘This is to certify that the bearer hereof has all rights and privileges to perform all duties of the ministry and been ordained as Reverend’-wait a second.  You got ordained?!” he exclaimed.

“Yup,” I said. “I can’t believe you never noticed that on the wall before.”

“But, asshole, you’re not even Christian!”

“Yeah, turns out that don’t matter.”

Retaking my seat, I said “I got it online a couple of years ago.  Totally free.  Anyone can do it.  Apparently, it’s recognized by all fifty states”.

This is a real thing.
“So,” I continued, “if it’s good enough for Uncle Sam, I'm sure it’s good enough for Jesus.”

I slapped the back of my neck and shivered.  I could have sworn I felt something crawling on me.  Probably the tag on my shirt, I thought as I adjusted my neckline.

“Hand me that bottle there”, I asked.

As Sancho passed over the bottle, I made the sign of the cross and said,

                “In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost,
                By the power vested in me by the state of Texas
                And the Universal Life Church of California,
                I hereby declare the liquid in this bottle holy,
                For liberty and justice for all.
                You may be seated.”

Looking over at Sancho, I saw an expression of unbridled awe on his face and smiled with satisfaction.


“You’re a fucking idiot,” he said.

Ok, I’m maybe I’m getting mixed signals.

Sancho said “You do realize that you just blessed a bottle of mountain dew, right?”

“Hey”, I said. “Why not?”

One Dew to rule them all.
I shivered. There it is again! I thought.  Little hairs standing on end on the back of my neck.  That creepy feeling you get when an ant or something is crawling on you, all six legs moving lightly across your skin, as if they’re making contact with your very nerves.  A few weeks ago, I went outside to my car, not realizing that a spider had made a web between a tree and my Jeep.  Nearly invisible in the dark, I stumbled right through it and immediately transformed into a six year old girl, slapping at myself all over, hair thin strands of web caressing my arms with an alien sensation, a thousand imaginary spiders ready to burrow into my ears.  I might have peed a little.

“Something’s wrong”, I said.

But Sancho wasn’t looking at me.  He was looking out the window.

“What?”, I asked. “What are you looking at?” Looking myself, I couldn’t see anything that would grab his attention.

“Dude” he said stiffly.  “Not outside. You don’t notice it?”

“Notice what?”

“Your reflection”. He said. “It’s back.”

Turning slowly back to the window, I refocused my gaze and came face to face with my doppelgänger once again.

I will not pee myself , I thought.


JrX

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Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Strange Faces: Part 3


(read part one here, and part two here. or, if your mouse is working, just scroll down)


*ring ring*

Hello?

Hey, it’s me. Whatcha doing?

Just getting off of work. You?

Oh, you know. The usual.

Getting high?

No...Well, a little.

Yeah, whatever.  You know you should stop that shit.  It makes you paranoid.

Yeah, speaking of paranoid, I might have a little situation here.  I might need your help.

If you shit yourself, I'm not coming.

Actually, -and go fuck yourself, by the way-, actually, some weird shit is going down at my house.  I’m not sure but it may have been built on an old Indian burial ground.

Have you been seeing old Indians?

….no...

Is there a little blonde girl sitting in front of your TV telling you that “they’re here”

…nooo….

Well then, what’s the problem?

(taking a deep breath) My reflection crawled out of my bathroom mirror, attacked me, crawled back into my mirror, and now I have no reflection. 

I see. And what kind of weed have you been smoking again?

Doesn't matter.  Remember all those times we talked about how, if the world ever needed a hero, you would totally be my sidekick?  Well, I think this is it.

I'm pretty sure we never talked about any of that.  What’s that tapping noise I keep hearing?

I'm typing all this down.

What for?

Future generations will want to know how this all went down.  How it started, who was involved, you know.

Wait, I don’t want to be involved in your drug fantasies, Ok?  Leave me out.

Too late. 

(Sighs) Alright, But change my name.

How about Scooter?  I've always wanted a friend called Scooter.

Fuck that.  Give me a cool name. Like Max Power, or something.

Sancho?

What? No, not Sancho.

Too late.  So listen, Sancho, how soon can you get here?

Don’t call me Sancho. 

Just get over here, Sancho.  Bring me some mountain dew.

*hangs up*

Most of us live our lives with blinders on, focusing only on what’s in front of us.  We create our own little world around us.  In our little piece of the world, only what’s in it is real.  The lady on the phone at customer service is just a voice.  Whether we’re rude to her or not doesn't really matter, because we don’t really conceive of her as an actual person.  This isn't because we’re mean or prideful or narcissistic, it’s a defence mechanism.  As human beings, we’re simply not equipped to handle that much stimulus.  Tragic events will occur halfway around the world, and unless you’re George Clooney or Angelina Jolie, it barely registers on our radar. 
Handsome or not, you were a terrible Batman.

Occasionally, however, you will see something or hear something that will bring the entire world into focus and you start to notice things you've never noticed before, no matter how long they've been there.  The first time, as a child, that you see your schoolteacher shopping at the grocery store.  It’s a startling feeling, a shock.  Yes, of course she’s a real person.  But now you know that’s she’s a REAL person, just like you.  Before she was just The Woman Who Teaches.  Now she’s Cindy, mom's  new friend, and she talks and jokes and eats grocery store samples just like you do.  You begin to wonder what else you’re missing, but then you get distracted by a vending machine and your world goes back to its normal size, plus one more person.  Heading out the door, you bump shoulders with a random person and grunt an apology, but it’s Ok  He’s not real like Cindy is.
Just blew your mind.

We all have moments like that, and as I look into the mirror again and notice all the things it reflects that I never noticed before because I was always concentrating on how awesome I looked, the me shaped hole where my reflection should be was all the more disconcerting.  If I wasn't already in the bathroom, I might have shit myself after all. 


JrX

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