MOTHER Memoirs, GPP #3: Out of the Garbage Can into the Fire

It gets extremely hot when you’re hiding in metal garbage cans during the summer months. I much prefer either the spring or the fall for that, but today I had no other options.

The kids at school pick on me all the time. They call me names like “weakling” or “four eyes." I thought they might leave me alone because it’s the last day of school, but that just made things worse.

Before class, Bill and Ted put a whoopee cushion on my chair. I guess it wouldn’t have been so bad, if they hadn’t put mustard in it. And angry spiders. And called the local news station to film it.

Right before lunch, Bill gave me a Wet Willy with candle wax on his fingers, and while I was changing for gym, Ted filled my sneakers with Cheez Whiz…then superglued them to the bench.

I had had enough. My fists clenched and my shoes sloshing and sticking, I stormed out of the locker room. The bullies were waiting for me.

“You guys need to stop this,” I said firmly.

“Make me, spaz,” replied Ted.

“Let’s get him!” Bill yelled. 

As I ran down the hallway and up the stairs, I could hear them gaining on me. “Come back here, you preppie!”

The teachers I passed didn’t know I was in trouble, and shouted at me, “no running!”

At the end of the next hallway, I saw that the door to the roof had swung open. The janitor must have left it unlocked again! What luck! I dove through the door, slammed it shut, and leapt into a nearby garbage can. Whenever this happens, Bill and Ted never think to check that garbage can. I’ve heard their conversations while I was hiding, too. They know I’m into rockets, and they're convinced that I have one stashed up here that I fly away on.

But this time, all I heard was the door shaking. The janitor must locked it, but forgotten to close it! I was trapped.

I’d have been more concerned if we were learning anything new in class, but since it was the last day, all the teachers decided to take it easy. With nothing better to do, I whipped out my Gameboy.

A few minutes later, I heard the door open. Someone was on the roof with me! At first I thought it was the bullies, but it was a voice I’d never heard before.

“Hello?”

“Who are you? I won’t come out!”

“Oscar?! Is that you!? I always knew you were real!”

“No, my name’s Loid.”

“You sound more like a Jeff. Are you sure your name’s not Jeff?”

“Yes!”

“Like, what percentage?”

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, but I’m not coming out. If I do, everyone will pick on me.”

“Are you more than 70 percent sure about that Jeff thing? Or only a little sure?”

“Go away!”

“You’re making a bad case that you’re not Oscar the Grouch.”

I was silent. After a few moments, I thought the owner of the voice had left. But then: “I don’t care who you are. Let’s be friends.”

“So you’re really not going to give me a wedgie?”

“No.”

“And you’re not going to steal my lunch money?”

“No.”

“And you’re not going to pour honey on me, wrap me up in a shag carpet, and roll me into a tree under a beehive?”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“Well, two out of three ain’t bad. Okay, I’m coming out!”

I slid the lid off and rested it gently next to the can. I could tell the boy was slightly disappointed that I wasn’t Oscar the Grouch.

He said his name was Ken. “But my friends call me Ninten.”

“What should *I* call you?”

“Ninten! Use my nickname. That’s what bein’ friends is about.”

I’ve never had a friend before. For the first time since mom bought me my Gameboy, I felt really happy. But I didn’t tell Ninten that. Instead, I told him about the bullies, and how I ran away, and how they thought I could use rockets to fly around.

“Rockets, eh?” Ninten asked. “You know, I saw a place that might have some spare bottle rockets on my way back from, uh… Well, let me see if I can get you one.”

Wow! A friend, and now a gift! Maybe this wasn’t such a bad day after all. I started to get back in the garbage can.

“Now don’t go back in there! I want you to stand outside like a normal person and enjoy this view until I get back.”

As he walked out, I heard him mumble, “First Pippie, and now this. I find more friends in large containers than I do face-to-face.”

I had never noticed before, but the view from the top of Twinkle Elementary is beautiful.

About 20 minutes later, the door swung open again. Ninten handed me the coolest bottle rocket I’d ever seen! I knew we had to try it out. I led my new friend down the stairs and into the science room. Nobody was there because everyone was getting ready to leave for summer break.

“Check this out!” I yelled, lighting the rocket’s fuse.

“Shouldn’t we have done this outside?” Ninten asked.

The rocket shot into the air and around the room, lodged itself in a shelf of chemicals, and exploded. Green goo covered the walls, and chairs and desks were lying broken on the floor.

“Yes, outside next time,” I agreed. We slipped out of the room right as a pair of teachers were coming in. I’m glad they didn’t notice us.

“Holy aardvarks! It’s like Mr. Wizard ate Bill Nye and got sick in here!” one of them screamed.

The bell rang, marking the beginning of summer vacation. The hallways swelled with cheering kids, swarming out of the building. Bill and Ted were so excited, they ran right past me. Ninten and I waited for the crowd to disperse before stepping outside.

Ninten tilted his head up, counting the floors of the school.

“This place is huge,” he said.

That’s when I got a great idea! “We should go to Duncan’s Factory. I hear they’re constructing the mother of all rockets.”

Ninten nodded. “With the week I’ve been having, I’d like to have a little bit of fun. Besides, I heard that the trains aren’t running because there’s a huge pile of rocks covering the tracks. I don’t really feel like walking all the way home, so I guess I have some time to kill.”

As we started walking to Duncan’s Factory, a school bus whizzed past us.

Ted stuck his head out the window and yelled something, and Ninten shook his fist. Ted was shocked! It was great.

Duncan’s Factory is really far away. I was always too afraid to go by myself, but I knew the way by heart. First, you follow the train tracks.

Then, you head past the creek.

After you go through a big thicket, you’re almost there.

Ninten and I made the trip much faster than I thought we would, and soon, we could see the factory.

“Wow! It’s great!” I said.

“Wow, it’s creepy,” Ninten replied. “Does Duncan have a side project making Halloween decorations or something?”

I got so excited, I began to run towards the factory. A hand on my shoulder yanked me back, and I almost fell down. At first I was afraid Ninten had lured me out here to bully me, and my heart sank.

That’s when I saw the stray dog snarling in front of me.

“It looks like he’s protecting the factory!” I exclaimed. “What do we do?”

“We fight!” Ninten pulled a boomerang out.

“But… I’ve never been in a fight before.”

“Fighting is easy. Just use your boomerang.”

“But I don’t have one!”

“Don’t have one…? Oh, I see! You use baseball bats then.”

“That’s barbaric!” I yelled. All the while, the stray dog inched ever closer.

Ninten looked confused. “Well then, just… hit it with your hand!”

“What if I hurt him?”

“You’re just looking to knock some sense into him, that’s all!’

I gathered my courage and looked the dog straight in the eyes. The last thing I remembered is it lunging towards me.

When I woke up, I was in a cool, dark place. If I were a bottle of olive oil or hydrogen peroxide, I’d have been I heaven. Ninten was standing over me.

“Your first fight didn’t go so well,” he explained.

“Where am I?”

“After that dog jumped on you, I shooed him away and dragged you in here, in the factory. Turns out all he wanted to do was play fetch. I guess he just played too hard for you.”

I sat up and looked around. Wow! Duncan’s Factory was amazing!

My enthusiasm waned as Ninten and I traveled through the maze-like halls, looking for the giant rocket I heard about. It was like backpacking through the Sahara, only with more dust.

Also, every rat, robot and piece of scrap metal wanted to hurt me! Ninten tried to protect me with his boomerang, but everything would just go around him and straight for me. I can only assume that robots survive solely on a diet of quivering childflesh.

After what seemed like hours (Ninten told me was only about 15 minutes), we found it: the hugest, most beautiful “Boom-Bomb” brand rocket I’d ever seen. I shed a tiny tear down my dusty, bruised face.

A man wearing a lab coat stood with his back to us, looking down at a clipboard. I was scared that he’d kick us out. Ninten called to him.

“That’s quite the rocket,” he said.

“Yes,” returned the man. “It is.”

The man didn’t turn around. Ninten’s hand hovered over the boomerang tucked in his belt. “Who are you?” he asked.

The doctor let out a single chuckle. “You can call me… Dr. Groovy!”

Classic rock ‘n’ roll music started playing from out of nowhere, and the doctor threw his clipboard in the air. For the first time, I noticed his long, red hair and out-of-control hippie beard.

“How do you keep finding me?!” Ninten exclaimed.

“Like, let’s get the party started!” he screamed. He pointed at me. “Do the honors, man!”

“Ninten, what the heck…?”

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “He’s weird, but he’s not dangerous.”

The hippie motioned towards the rocket. My heart began to beat so hard I felt like I’d just come out of gym class. This is it! I was going to fire the biggest bottle rocket ever! I pulled the leaver, and in a fiery flash, it was gone!

“Far out!” said the Hippie. “I aimed that thing at the pile ‘o rocks blocking the trains! I bet you could like, ride the rails now, man!”

The strange man smiled at us, said good bye, and walked away.

“I guess I can go home now on the train,” said Ninten. “Let’s check it out.”

The walk back to civilization was pretty uneventful. We were tired, and we didn’t talk much. I was psyched about getting to fire off the big rocket, but sad that my only friend was going home.

Half way to Union Station, and I was lost in thought.

“Do you hear that?” Ninten asked. I snapped out of it.

“Hear what?”

“A low rumbling sound, like a school bus.”

We stopped and listened. Sure enough, I heard it too. And the unmistakable sound of a truck horn.

Then we saw it.

“That’s…Optimus Prime!” Ninten exclaimed. “Optimus! Over here, buddy!”

The truck barreled towards us! I started screaming, but Ninten thought I was cheering and joined in too.

“That is NOT Optimus Prime!” I yanked on Ninten’s shirt and dragged him past the busted up rocks and debris from where the rocket hit. The path was too narrow for the giant truck to fit through. Its horn bellowed sinisterly, like a wild animal.

“Goodbye Optimus!” Ninten yelled. “Till all are one!” Ninten looked at me, beaming. “He’s more than meets the eye, you know.”

After that, it wasn’t long before we were standing in Union Station.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye, friend,” I said.

“I guess so.”

Before he could get to the ticket window, an old woman waved at us and walked over. “Are you boys going to Snowman by any chance?”

“No, I’m headed back to Podunk,” Ninten said.

“Well, I found this hat with the name ‘Ana’ written on the inside. I think the owner lives in Snowman.” She handed Ninten the hat. “I bet she really misses it.”

Ninten stared at the headgear. I could tell he was pondering something.

“So, what now?” I asked.

“Now we go to Snowman.”

All photography by Matt except “Garbage Can,” courtesy of nuchylee / FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

MOTHER Memoirs, GPP #2: On Flying Man's Wings

I am the Flying Man. My destiny is to help you.

We are a proud, honor-bound tribe of five. We believe that everyone has the right to continuous happiness.

The young boy Ninten wondered into our home last night, bewildered. My brothers and I could sense that he didn’t belong in Magicant, but we cared about him anyway. We could not wait to serve him.

We tended to his wounds and the boy went to sleep. Since there was one less bed, my brothers and I took turns watching over him all night until he recovered.

Ninten sat up with a look of fear. It quickly melted into sadness. Seeing his despair hurt my heart.

“What is wrong, young friend?” I asked. “Do you wish for me to get you food or drink?”

With great distress, the boy told of a land outside of Magicant, and the family he desperately wished to see again. He also asked for pancakes with sprinkles.

Though I had never heard of any world other than Magicant, nor pancakes, I told him that my brothers and I would do whatever we could to help him in his quest. The first step was to obtain an audience with Queen Mary and see if her wisdom could guide us. I could tell that Ninten was very grateful for our aid.

“What should I call you?” Ninten asked.

“I am T. Hawk.”

“What does the 'T' stand for?”

“The.”

“And your brothers?”

“They are Eagle, Birdie and Raven. And fetching something for you to eat is Nightwolf.”

“But he’s a bird.”

“Yes.”

“And his name is NightWOLF.”

“Yes.”

“Seems legit.”

Sometime later, we arrived at Queen Mary’s castle. Her guards smiled at us and let us through. Ninten’s eyes grew wide as he drank in the regal sights.

Her majesty sat upon a vibrant velvet throne. When she saw Ninten, she stepped down and looked into his eyes, like mother and son.

“Queen Mary, I am T. Hawk, and this is-”

She waved her hand knowingly.

“Welcome, Ninten,” she said. Her voice was calm and sweet. “Here in Magicant, everyone is your friend. Here, you can have as much as you want of whatever you want.”

“Then, why do you look so sad?” Ninten asked. Her Majesty cracked a crooked smile, and did not answer.

Ninten told her how he desired to go home. Queen Mary nodded. “You must travel through the Crystal Caverns. The answer lies there,” she said.

We thanked Queen Mary and turned to leave. Suddenly, Ninten stopped.

“Queen Mary, for some reason I think you should know this. I just can’t get this song out of my head,” he said. “Let me sing it for you: Take a melody, simple as can be. Give it some words and…”

Her Majesty fell to her knees. “Please! Don’t stop singing!”

“I’m sorry, Queen Mary. That’s all I know.”

“I beg you to learn the rest of that melody. It’s only a few more notes. When you learn them all, return and sing for me.” She stared off into the distance. “If only I could hear that song.”

Ninten nodded. “I promise.”

Queen Mary returned to the throne and closed her eyes.

“Ninten, it is time for us to leave,” I said. “Let us visit the magic fountain and pray for good luck on our journey.

He nodded solemnly.

####

The beautiful fountain has a calming effect on travelers. As Ninten and I relaxed for a few moments, the sun warmed our bodies and the rushing water soothed our ears.

A quiet voice roused us from our rest. “Did you call me up?”

An old man stood before us. It seemed like he had appeared from thin air. There was no need to ready ourselves for battle. I sensed in him only benevolence.

“I was just sitting here,” Ninten explained. “I didn’t say a word. I was just thinking about my great-grandfather.”

The old man nodded. “I heard your soulful cry. Do you need any money? Let’s see if grandpa has any money for the children.”

“I am as old as the wind,” I replied. “Besides, we have no need of currency. The land will provide for us.”

“I accept 20s and 50s,” said Ninten.

That was the only respite we would have. Moments later, our journey became violent.

The Big Woodoh was getting the better of us. Every punch I landed scraped my knuckles, every kick rattled my knees, and the beast was too large to throw. Even with his new boomerang, Ninten could hardly pierce the terror tree’s defenses.

“Foul demon! You scare even the nature spirits with your ways!” I exclaimed. The Woodoh grinned back, full of hate.

With a tremendous blow, Ninten destroyed the creature. The earth shook fiercely. I took the boy in my arms and shielded him from the heat and debris as the Woodoh turned itself to ashes.

We stopped by the town to heal our wounds. But before we could resume our quest to the Crystal Caverns, Ninten ran into a nearby shop. Hanging on the walls inside were an array of combat supplies.

“Wouldn’t this be easier if you had a weapon?” he asked me.

“The Flying Men fight with honor, not weapons.”

But Ninten was already waving a fistful of money at the clerk.

“Can you give T. Hawk a gun? Please? He really, really needs it!”

####

The boy and I climbed into the well that leads into the Crystal Caverns.

“Why do they call this the Crystal Caverns?” Ninten asked. “I can’t see a darn th-”

The boy's next step brought him through the hatch and into the caverns. They glistened blue and white. And though they appeared jagged, the walls were smooth as silk to the touch.

As we traveled, each step rang through the endless passages. This went on for quite some time. We turned yet another corner and I bumped into something soft and furry. It was the dreaded Raeb Yddet!

“We’ve got this!” Ninten exclaimed, readying his boomerang.

The Raeb Yddet summoned a Nipxur Yddet! Ninten’s expression went blank.

“Hi! My name is Nipxur Yddet! Can you and I be friends? I really enjoy talking to people. Let me tell you the story of when…”

“No… no! Leave me alone! You’re only friendly until your batteries start running out!”

Ninten sprinted around the Yddets, and past the mythical sleeping dragon, shrieking all the way. I could not keep up with him! I am not sure what scared him so, but the demons of his world must pale in comparison to those of Magicant.

I knew we were nearing our goal when I saw the Crystal Cave’s guardian, the golden flying fish.

“Ninten, we must be careful. The fish guardian is very dangerous.” As I said this, the beast spotted us. It charged at Ninten! I used my body to shield him from the blow. Pain shot though my wound.

The boy waved his fingers, and a shield appeared around us. As the fish tried to break through, Ninten swung his boomerang like a sword, sending him reeling. Another blow, and our enemy faded away, leaving only a treasure box.

Ninten opened it.

“What is this thing?”

“That is the Onyx Hook of legend,” I replied. “With it, you can visit Magicant any time you want.”

A man’s voice congratulated Ninten on a battle well fought. Until that moment, neither of us had noticed him standing in what was, we thought, a way out.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am a forgotten man,” he whispered. “You didn't have to notice me.... Please ignore me. I am a man who does not exist. I've been alone from the moment I was born. Why do you insist on talking to me? Are you a forgotten man, too?"

“No,” Ninten replied. “And I don’t think I could ever forget someone as weird as you.”

“Like, I knew you would remember me, man!”

He stepped out into light. “The hippie?” Ninten exclaimed in disbelief. “How did you even get here?”

“How did any of us get here, man? It’s all so cosmic.”

“Who is this man?” I asked. I received no answer. He turned and walked out the door.

Ninten shrugged and began to follow the strange man.

“Wait, Ninten. I am injured.”

“Hold on, I think I still have a magic herb. It’s not the best, but it should hold you over until we can get back to town.”

I shook my head. “No, Ninten. You must go on without me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You must remain strong, Ninten,” I said. “There is greatness in you. I do not know how, but the world – your world – needs you. “

Slowly, Ninten understood. I could sense great grief in him. His eyes became moist, and leaked tiny droplets into his shirt. The only other person I had ever seen do such a thing was Queen Mary. I believe she called it “crying.”

“Please, Ninten. Save your tears. There is no crying until the end.”

“I’ll never forget you, T. Wolf Birdie Eagle!”  

The boy was stupid, but sincere.

He patted my head, and disappeared through the door in front of him. I closed my eyes and thought of my brothers. I was so thankful for my time with them, and with young Ninten. It was a pleasure serving them.

All the pain in my body faded away and I drifted off to sleep.

####

I am the Flying Man. My destiny is to help you.

We are a proud, honor-bound tribe of four. We believe that everyone has the right to continuous happiness, even at the cost of our own lives.

We cannot wait to serve you.

All photography by Matt except "Flying Man" and "Queen Mary" from family archives.

MOTHER Memoirs, GPP #1: Poltergeists, Pippie, and a Plastic Bat

This is my house. I live in Podunk.

This is my dog, Snoopy.

And this is the lamp that tried to eat me today.

The big kids were still taking tests and Twinkle Elementary in Merrysville was open for another week, but for me and my sisters, school let out for the summer yesterday. I had vowed to make the most of my vacation, and was making good on that promise: I had already gotten to the final world in Super Mario Bros. 7.

A pair of Hammer Brothers protected the bridge, and King Koopa was waiting at the end, no doubt. Only few quick moves, and Mario would finally rescue Princess Toadstool and free the Mushroom Kingdom. Again.

I guess I play a lot of Nintendo. My mother used to call me “Nintendo Boy” when I was little, and when my sister Minnie started talking, she called me “Ninten” because the whole word must have been too hard for her. Mom thought it was so funny, she started me calling that instead, and it stuck.

The lights flickered suddenly, and Mario disappeared into a sea of darkness. My heart shattered. What a horrible time for a power failure!

I didn’t have much time to be upset. From the corner of my eye, I saw my lamp floating around the room. My reflection made it look almost like it had a face.

“What the heck…?”

It hurdled towards me and I jumped out of my chair like Mario. It floated off the floor again and looked like it wanted to take another swing at me. Aside from that time Teddy Ruxpin was running out of batteries and sounded like a demon, I’ve never been so afraid of a minor appliance in my life.

“Stay away for me!” I yelled. “Or I’ll hit you with-” I looked around for my baseball bat, but it was missing! “-my, uh, hand!”

It flew at me again, and I swung as hard as I could. SMAAAASH!! The lamp didn’t move anymore.

I wondered if the whole summer would be like this. “At times like this, kids like me should be playing Nintendo games!” I yelled.

A shriek came from Mimmie’s room! I leapt over the dead lamp and threw open her door. The naked, hairless doll she had inherited from great-grandma was whizzing about the room like a spaceship. It was slightly creepier than normal.

I swatted it, knocking it into the wall. The doll cracked almost in half, revealing a tiny music box.

And then it played that song. Lamps and shoes and scrunchies were zooming through the air trying to kill us, and a trio of female screams echoed through the halls, but all I could concentrate on were those five notes.

“Take a melody…” “Take a melody…” “Take a melody…”

I felt something tugging on my shirt and snapped out of it. My sister handed my Wiffle ball bat to me like a squire handing a knight his sword. You know, if the sword were plastic, and made in China, and one time the knight nailed a homerun with it in front of his whole class.

This analogy has gotten out of hand.

I was about to take a potshot at a Cabbage Patch Kid when the lights stopped flashing and everything that was floating around fell to the floor.

#####

The sweet summer air swirled around me and the sun beat down on my back. It was hard to believe I was standing in a cemetery. I choked up on my bat instinctively.

“Poltergeists,” I said quietly. That’s what Dad thinks attacked us this morning. He thought my great-grandfather George’s diary might help explain what was going on, but all the entries were gibberish.  Great-grandpa kept babbling about masks and books, and a child. And what are the hills of Elfshima?

Just ahead was some kind of crypt. I had a feeling that the missing girl, Pippi, was in there. The door was already open. Could it be the work of those zombies I had heard about in town?

When I had gone to the mayor to report the crazy stuff that happened at our house that morning, he ignored me and asked me to go save Pippi.

“Citizen, I know you would like to help your town,” he said. “A child has strayed into the cemetery, and I’m up for re-election soon.  You must help! Please help me!”

“Sir, I don’t really have time for that now. Today my lamp tried to kill me, and I slapped a baby, and-”

“Oh, you’ll go there and save her? Thanks, son!”

“But I- ”

“Thank you, come again.”

If I wanted any answers, it looked like I’d have to save the girl first.

As I tried to gather enough courage to step into the crypt, I my body went cold. Something was watching me. I readied my bat and spun around.

“Like whoa, peace and love!”

The sun glared off the hippie’s peace sign necklace into my eyes, and I nearly lost my balance. I thought his radio blasting ’50s rock n’ roll was loud until he started screaming at me though his bullhorn.

“Like, attention! Your mother is calling you, man!”

“Get a job, you beatnik!”

The sound of plastic-on-skull echoed through the cemetery. The hippie regained all senses. “I doubt that,” I said, creeping into the darkness.

The tomb was dead silent, save for dripping coming from God knew where. And have you ever had a cobweb in your mouth? Let me tell you, it’s not as fun as it sounds.

Deeper and deeper I went, until I could see a faint glow. A pair of candles barely illuminated a small chamber. I saw three coffins – two with their lids already on the grimy floor. The last coffin shook a bit. I could hear what sounded like moaning from inside.

I snuck over, bat in my right hand, my left grazing the top of the coffin. I pried the lid off slowly. A pair of eyes pierced the darkness, staring straight into my soul.

“Aieee! A zombie!” I swung my bat and missed.

“You saved me!” yelled a young voice. From the coffin emerged… the Wendy’s logo?

“You’re my hero!” she exclaimed. “I’m Pippie, and I’m lost. What’s your name?”

I held my hand out to shake hers. She didn’t notice it was quivering.

“K-Ken,” I said. “But my friends call me Ninten.” Pippie ignored my extended hand and hugged me around the neck.

We climbed out of the crypt and into the daylight again.

“You need to be more careful,” I said. “Children shouldn’t play with dead things. Hey, how did you manage to get stuck in that coffin all by yourself?”

“Oh,” said Pippie. “I didn’t go in there myself. Those guys grabbed me and put me in.”

I followed to where she was pointing. Dark figures were shambling towards us from all sides!

“Zombies!” I screamed. “There’s too many for us to fight! Run!”

Through the path and back to civilization we traipsed. I could see the edge of town.

“We made it, Pippie! Pippie?!”

I looked back just in time to see a zombie leap out in front of her. Pippie ran full tilt into the unwelcome undead and fell flat on her behind.

I lurched forward, bat in-hand, but something beat me to the punch. A bullhorn shattered over the zombie’s head, and she fell into the grass. It was the hippie!

“Groovy,” he said.

The hippie pulled Pippie to her feet.  His glance darted to mine.

“Like, run, man!”

He didn’t have to tell us twice. I tossed him a can of orange juice as a thank you, and he disappeared through the bushes, heading towards the Canary Village I had visited earlier.

On our way through town, I told Pippie all about the poltergeists, Great-Grandfathers Diary, and the strange tune stuck in my head.

We passed by the mall and decided to grab a bite to eat.  Running away from killer corpses takes a lot out of you, I noticed.

“What kind of world do we live in where French fries cost $15?! It’s not even a large.”

I could tell that Pippie was famished, so I ponied up the cash. She smiled at me in between bites.

“You’re brave, Ninten,” she said.

“Not really,” I replied.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up. She handed me the fries and dug around in her pocket. “I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you rescuing me. This shiny badge will protect you. Keep it!”

“Ok, thanks, Pippie.  It’s time to go home.”

#####

“Who has lost his tail?”

The voice came from thin air, speaking directly to my mind.  It was just like that…spaceman?... that had been driving all the zoo animals to violence.

I tensed up a bit, expecting another fight from the bizarre pink rock that jutted out of the ground in front of me. But when nothing happened after a minute or two, I relaxed.

The cave was cool and dry, a nice change from the summer heat.

“Who has lost his tail?” I repeated. Popping open my last can of O.J., I sat on the ground to think. I hummed a few bars. “Take a melody. Simple as can be. Give it some words and…”

Then it dawned on me. I pulled out Great-Grandfather’s Diary and leafed through the tattered pages. There, in the middle of the book, was my answer.

“The forgotten one of the ship that sails the cosmos,” I read aloud.

The rock flooded the cave with white light. I’d have been scared, but it seemed familiar in a way – almost calming.

And when I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in Podunk anymore.


All photography by Matt.

MOTHER Memoirs, GPP #0: Great-Grandson’s Diary

It’s tough to concentrate during hot summer days like this – like that day 25 years ago when I left my mother’s house, thinking I could save the world by myself.

I was wrong. I did it with a little help from my friends.

As I grew up, all of that crazy stuff I could do with my mind just faded away. I guess I didn’t need it anymore. The only thing left is my special bond with animals. And every so often, while her mother is scrambling for a blanket or a bottle, I’ll know exactly why my infant daughter is crying.

Some of the memories have started to fade, and others feel like I’m watching someone else do the things I did, like some sort of video game.

But the important stuff – my friends, my family, our courage and determination – that’s all clear. There’s other things I remember too, like how much crow pecks sting, or endless mountains and getting lost in caves,  or how scary and embarrassing and exhilarating it was to sing on stage in that big city club. But I try not to think about those things as much.

I’m still not certain why it all turned out the way it did, but from what I’ve pieced together over the years, fate had been cooking up my adventure decades before I was born. As the story goes:

In the early 1900s, my great-grandfather, George, married the love of his life, Maria, fresh out of college. George became a professor at a local university, while Maria stayed home, waiting to birth a baby that never came.

One overcast day, George went to work and Maria waved longingly after him. A quick, brutal rainstorm hit that afternoon, and neighbor went to check on them. Dinner was ready, silverware was set, and a newspaper lay open on the table, but the couple had vanished.

Two years later, as suddenly as he left, George reappeared in his hometown. He never told anyone where he had gone or what he had been doing. Instead, he isolated himself, and began an odd study. 

The only people he spoke to from then on were the town’s librarians, and the postman, who came bearing heavy books nearly every week.  

Years passed.

 

But George never found what he was looking for, it seemed. 

As for Maria, his wife… she never returned.

Eighty years later, my journey began.



All photography by Matt except "Young George" and "Young George and Maria" from family archives.

The ABCs of Sega CD #2: The Adventures of Willy Beamish

The Adventures of Willy Beamish

Developer: Dynamix, a division of Serria

Publisher: Serria

Release Year: 1993

This is a train wreck.

The Adventures of Willy Breamish starts its spiral into madness right from the intro. RADICAL guitar riffs punctuate TUBULAR images of young Willy Beamish and his frog, shredding on guitars, skateboarding, and, uh, his dad getting letters from the IRS. GNARLY! (After the intro, the music degrades into crumby Genesis/Mega Drive fare. Oh well.) It’s like the early 1990s puked into a Sega CD box, and not in that nostalgic Buzzfeed kind of way.

That's right, Iceman! I am dangerous!

The game begins the day before summer vacation. For some reason, Willy has brought his pet frog to school, and while the principal is blabbing away at an assembly (on the last day?) the frog leaps up and snags his hairpiece. The frog’s name is Horny, by the way.

I’ll wait for you to stop groaning before I continue.

Willy gets detention and the player is finally given control over the action. You’re forced to do every little thing, from bandaging a small cut to feeding and walking Willy’s dog. Conversations, nearly all of which are teeth-gnashingly boring, go on FOR. EV. ER. I’ve seen livelier dialogue in yogurt commercials.

Will Willy get his sister breakfast? Or will he...not? EXCITEMENT!

After detention, Willy’s dead grandfather shows up, a la Grandpa Seth in Troll 2, Willy’s dog starts talking, his babysitter becomes a psychic vampire, and Willy is nearly gang raped by the cast of “Grease” before being rescued by a family of vacationing ninjas.

Maybe this game is a somber look into adolescent mental illness, and I’m just missing it?

S'up, ghostly grandpa! (Ghostpa?)

Then you slice up vegies for dinner, mow the lawn, and wash his father’s car. This game switches between the banal and the batshit insane at a breakneck pace. It’s like the creators didn’t know whether they wanted to make a fantastic world or a little boy simulator.

Too bad you won’t care about any of the selfish, stock characters. Willy’s only concern when his father loses his job is getting the $2,500 he needs to enter a “Nintari” competition (no Fred Savage here, unfortunately), and every sentence out of his mother’s mouth takes feminism back at least 10 years.

The Adventures of Willy Beamish suffers from a bad case of EXTREME attitude that plagued a lot of early ‘90s media. It even uses the “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” gag, which was tired even in 1993. The game comes off like a lazy parody of suburban life in the early 1990s, but if that’s the case, it needs to be set to “funny” in the options screen.

I know how you feel, Willy. I know how you- HOLY CRAP IT'S DUKE NUKEM!

The goals are often as clear as peanut butter. Maybe that’s just a consequence of the genre, but games like Maniac Mansion on NES managed to be 100 times more intuitive than this on a system that has about as much processing power as a toaster.

But what really kills The Adventures of Willy Beamish is pointless trial-and-error. I guess a kid in the ‘90s with nothing better to do might have derived a modicum of entertainment from seeing how every one of Willy’s choices plays out, but the disjoined narrative ultimately disappoints no matter what. And based on his or her choices, the player might be left in an unwinnable state and have to start the game fresh. Yikes!

Finish him, Sub-Zero family!

On the plus side, this isn’t the kind of thing you’d see on 16-bit consoles. With a lot of big, nicely drawn images and tons of voice acting, The Adventures of Willy Beamish embraces the CD medium much more than the majority of the Sega CD’s offerings.

Also there’s ninjas.

But that’s not enough to save this abysmal offering from being one of the worst I've ever played on any console. As our young antihero might say, this game is so bogus.

I love you dad and dead grandpa! 

See you next time on ABCs of Sega CD with Afterburner III!

Super Mario Swag

On his blog A Sound Abundance of Rain, Jacob Haffman mentioned how he used to imagine his Mario and Luigi toys preaching to his other action figures. (No word on if the plumber pals baptized Batman or confirmed Catwoman, however.) He mentioned in a comment on my other blog, Marginalized, how he still has a Super Mario Bros. Super Show VHS tape.

Cut to about a week ago, when I was boxing up a few things at my mother's house that I hadn't been able to bring to my apartment. I came across a pair of Mario tapes, like Jacob had mentioned; an empty can of Mario Redbull; a disabled Toad who lost an arm to our family dog in 2011; and a Mario "high score" statue I've had since I was about six years old.

Anyone else have have any Super Mario swag lying around?

The ABCs of Sega CD #1: The Adventures of Batman and Robin

The Adventures of Batman and Robin

Developer: Clockwork Tortoise

Publisher: Sega
Release Year: 1995

It’s apropos that the first game we’re delving into embodies the missed opportunities that characterized the Sega CD’s short run.

On the plus side, the Adventures of Batman and Robin nails the unique “dark deco” atmosphere of the seminal cartoon of the same name, from the graphics to the animated sequences between levels. Even the stylized font is the same.

I am vengeance! I am the night!

A lot of talent went into this game. The cutscenes were penned by and directed by Batman: The Animated Series veterans Paul Dini and Bruce Timm respectively, and the original voice cast, including Kevin Conroy as Batman and Mark Hamill as the Joker, reprised their roles. I’m no producer, nor do I know much about budgets (nor do I own a wallet), but I think that’s where the majority of this game’s finances went.

With no television censors to worry about, the animation is a lot more brutal than the show. For example, in an early scene, Batman hacks Poison Ivy’s plant-based henchman with an ax, and “chlorophyll” spatters on walls. Later, the Riddler takes an electric shock that could kill a man.

The Bat STABBED him, and he DIED.

The music is a far cry from Shirley Walker’s orchestrated fare from the show, but it’s exciting enough and appropriate for the action.

Unfortunately, these cutscenes, the game’s greatest strength, serve to make the rest of the experience that much more dull. Sans the magic of Dini, Timm, and the familiar gallery of rogues in the cutscenes, there’s absolutely nothing about this title that couldn’t have been done on stock Genesis.

Let’s get the game’s most unforgivable sin out of the way: Not once do we control the Dark Knight or even the Boy Wonder outside of the Batmobile or the Batwing. I suppose it’s understandable because Batman is so well known for his driving skills, not his martial arts and detective skills. OH WAIT.

What's in the trucks? Crappy gameplay.

It’s a fundamental flaw that dragged this title to bargain bin hell – I got this game new at Toys ‘R’ Us for $10 about six months after it hit the shelves.

The game begins with Bats hopping in the Batmobile and riding off to save Robin from the clutches of Poison Ivy. Immediately, players must avoid every citizen in Gotham City out for a Sunday drive at 3 a.m. (Maybe it’s Black Friday?) For a game that should be all about speed, forcing players to drive carefully starts things off on the wrong batboot. It never recovers.

Then Poison Ivy’s goons show up. Nothing says “Batman” like dodging an endless stream of giant pumpkins, trees growing in the middle of the road, and pissed off bushes. You could try to avoid them, but that’s pretty difficult. Your other choice is to try to take them out with your weak mini-missiles and a handful of confusing, useless special weapons.

Hey, Batman! Make like a tree and NEVER GET OUT OF THE BATMOBILE.

On leather wings?

And that’s all you do. You drive, you fly, and it takes forever to beat down the bad guys. I’d describe the gameplay more, but there’s hardly anything to talk about. All the backgrounds look the same until the Riddler traps Batman in an arcade game and then the Joker forces him to drive though some kind of bizarre zoo with joker-smilin’ animals, but then it’s back to the same ol’ Gotham City.

All I want in a Batman game is to, you know, play as Batman. Sega CD owners had that chance with Batman Returns, but the Batman: The Animated Series license deserved much better.  My advice is to level skip your way through this bat bomb and enjoy the animation. (Code: B, A, down, B, A, down, left, up, C when paused. “Bad, bad luck?” I think not!)

Will Batman drive himself crazy? Will Clayface speed to an early demise? Or will the Joker get the last laugh? You won’t want to tune in long enough to find out.

That's not funny. That's not...

See you next time, same bat blog, same bat console, but a new bat game: The Adventures of Willy Beamish!