The Unveiling of my Nearyl completed NoveL!

Breaking the Third Wall

BEGINNING: Part I

              “Shh…did you hear that!” George said quietly to another older, bald man.

               “NO! I didn’t hear nothin’ and I ain’t gonna hear nothin’!” the other responded

               George looked around and waited for Henry to wheel out of sight. He looked both ways and quickly and quietly crept down the first aisle. His head was turning everywhere. It seemed as though is he turned his head much more he’d end up with whiplash. He crept past the canned corn, and the kidney beans. He stood crouched behind a paper cut-out of the jolly green giant. He peeked over the top just enough to look down at the floor. A grin spread across his face as he did this.

               “There you are! You rascal! I’m gonna get you now!” he said emphatically.

               Quickly he leapt out from behind his post and brandished a large can of bug spray. Without mercy, he pulled the trigger and swift justice was done. There lay before him a pile of small black specs…formerly ants. In the middle was a rather large crumb of a sugar cookie.

               “I should have known this would be what you were after. Well now you’re not
after much of anything are ya…YOU’RE DEAD!” George said merrily.

               He crouched down and got onto his knees…putting his face right up to the pile of bodies. After examining them for a moment, he stood up once more and wandered over to the counter from whence he came. He reached underneath, fished around and procured a small brush and dustpan, neither looked like it had been used in a long time. A thick layer of dust coated both. Once more George crouched down and began to sweep the pile into the dustpan.

               “Ahhhhhh smell that, that’s the smell of defeat! Well, the smell of dead ants, bug spray, floor cleaner, cookie crumb, and possibly my breath…but nonetheless DEFEAT!” he said.

               “CUT!” Henry screamed, “All right all right I think you’re getting a little too into this part George, I mean this is a guy killing ants not Hamlet, in which I delivered a stunning and moving performance to an awe struck crowd. All you have to do is kill the ants and clean them up, smiling happily as you do so…we want a subtle hint to the audience of your…quirky nature…we can’t just give it away as soon as the curtain opens,” Henry said.

               George was fuming at this. He took several deep breaths and dry washed his hands. His large shoulders were heaving and his eyes were casting a look of death upon Henry. His arms trembled lightly and he was stroking his rather pronounced chin with one hand while the other rest on his hip.

               “Listen here, mister big shot, I don’t care how many commercials you’ve been in I am an actor in my soul, I know what acting is. I know was I should be doing. I’ve been acting for ten years longer than you! I think I know what this script is telling me…and you’re not even the director,” George said heatedly.

               Both men looked to Ed Gwesson, a small man who was sheepishly hiding behind
his script and sitting with his legs drawn up on his chair. He shook so much his mustache quivered. His hair looked a mess and he was only making it worse running his hands through it continuously.

               “Tell this imbecile that was exactly what the script called for,” George said to Ed.
               “Imbecile! Ed, would you please tell this knave, what it is to be an actor, and what it means to read the script,” Henry said.

               Ed still seemed rather at a loss for words, and sweat was forming on his brow. He looked nothing like the Hollywood director he was, instead he looked more like a small child quivering in fear from a bully.

               “Gentlemen, gentlemen, please listen to yourselves,” Ed said in a restrained voice. “I must say it was a bit over the top,”

               “I told you, you old fool,” Henry interrupted.

               “BUT,” Ed said louder again, “we do need to be a little exaggerated in this scene because we need to establish a basis for the rest of the play, we need to set a tone, and convey just how odd our dear Martin is. Henry, you did a very good job as Joe in that scene I really felt the…hatred between Martin and Joe. Now can we take that scene one more time, this time take it down just this much, just that,” Ed said.

               Once again, George and Henry took the stage, Henry in his wheel chair just to the left of George, just behind the counter. Ed looked nervous to see what was going to happen this time. He had only just begun this job last week after having a complete mental blow out on the set of a mainstream soap opera he was guest directing for a season. So many emotions was just too much for him, so he sought refuge at a place called “The Princely Palace of Plainville”, more commonly referred to by its residents, and the town people as “The Castle.” Sadly for some reason old folks emotions seemed to run just as high. Given this stress, Ed wasn’t sure how long, he could take this place.

               “Action!” Ed called trying to keep his voice steady.
               “Shh…did you hear that!” George said once more to Henry.

               Just as Ed had called action, a small boys face peered in the door, opening it just a crack and revealing a bright blue eye just like George’s. A few strands of brown hair found their way in the crack. Slowly the door opened further until finally a pale skinned bright-eyed little boy stood in the doorway watching the two men on the stage acting out this convenience store scene.

                              MIDDLE: Part IV

               He slowly walked up a small set of stone steps, and was bound for the building, still looking straight at it wide eyed and delirious. He looked at the door and set a quest for the handle staring fixedly at it blocking out everything else. He reached the door and it slid open automatically for him. Having been staring so fixedly, he momentarily panicked when the door handle disappeared, until he realized the door had opened it self.

               He ushered himself into the vast place and stood slack jawed on the thin, dirty, faded royal blue carpet and turned all around looking at all that was inside. George felt such a sense of wonderment he had never felt before, he felt like a young child again discovering something for the first time. He felt like his eyes were for a brief moment bestowed with that sense of innocence again. He felt better than he had felt in years.

               There wasn’t a whole lot more to see inside. The floors had faded, dirty, royal blue carpets like the one George stood on, and the walls were bare. There was very little lighting, and the place looked more like a dungeon. There was a small desk in the middle and various sized, and colored tables scattered around hundreds of book shelves. However, one wall had been entirely filled with filing cabinets which each was fairly large on its own.

               The air was musty, and one expected an Igor clone to be working the desk here, or else a vampire. No one was inside, and time felt thick inside, like it could actually be touched inside here. There must have been thousands or perhaps million of records in here, but what could they possibly chronicle, this is a play, there’s nothing real in here, and certainly no one would write this much detail into a place that a. isn’t used in the play, and b. doesn’t exist.

               George looked around for a clerk of some sort, but could not locate anyone. Of course, one could not possibly be expected to locate someone to help I so vast a place without any possible method, like perhaps a loudspeaker to call, or at least a bell to ring for service.

               Slowly, George approached the ancient desk in search of such a bell, but found no such thing. The only thing George could see was the oak grain desk piled high with papers, and a circle where a coffee mug must have sat for years. George half expected to find an ashtray, but found no such thing. This was indeed a strange place.

               “Hello!” George called out. “Is…uhh…there anybody here!”

               Silence was the response George received, a pounding in his head. The silence was worrisome for George, such a large building with no one in it didn’t seem right at all. It seemed that perhaps there was something amiss here, but George couldn’t quite figure out what it was that was wrong well except for of course the lack of anyone here.

               “Hey! Is there anyone here!” George called again.

               “What! What! Do you have to be so loud!” A small voice called from just below the desk.
               "Umm…excuse me?” George said looking down for the voice.

               “What, you got me already, what do you want!” the shrill voice shrieked.

               “I was just hoping to get some history about this building,” George said.

               “Well, what do you wanna know?” the voice called abruptly.

               “Err…is there just a brief overview of like what’d happened over the years?” George tried.

               “That way!” the voice yelled as a ruler nearly poked George in the eye as it flew from behind the counter.
               He turned completely around and began walking to the left of the doors he came in through and was slowly approaching one of the huge hulking bookshelves that came up to the middle of the high windows. The bookshelf was filled with numerous leather bound books, as well as a great deal of books completely missing their binding, no doubt from their age.

                              NEAR END: Part VIII

               “These are the herbs you need to go back, thyme, sage, blue lily, mugwort, wormwood, cayenne pepper, lots and lots of nutmeg, and baco’s. What we will do is spread most of this on the ground and then eat a large lump each,” Marcus told George holding out the bag for George to take a handful.

               They looked at each other and Marcus quickly gulped his heaping handful and smiled a big toothy grin as he teetered slightly where he stood. George swallowed hard quickly shoved all the powder he could in his mouth and swallowed it. The second he swallowed it he could feel himself getting lighter. He felt so strange now. His hands looked weird and he felt like he could just stare at them forever. Time felt like it stopped, but h knew it was still going normal speed. He felt like he could just daydream for the rest of forever. George couldn’t focus and felt giggly, he felt young, again, like everything he looked at sparkled and the colors were amazing.
               George felt like all the blood was rushing to his head and his hands were heavy. His eyes were red and he looked at Marcus who was laughing hysterically on the floor staring at nothing. George felt himself falling, but straightened himself up quickly. He forced his thoughts back to that of home as he giggled a little and watched his hand move.

               “Ok, ok….so…” George said pausing.

               He returned to staring at this hand as he moved I t back and forth in front of his face some more. He caught sight of something staring in the window…he could have sworn it was a duck! He saw a duck, like a giant person sized duck watching him. He began to laugh hysterically as he fell on the floor clutching his stomach as it bounced up and down. George couldn’t remember a time he had felt better…George couldn’t remember anything.

               “So…what’s next?” George asked, not noticing that he had just paused for a good five minutes in the middle of that sentence.
               “Umm, hehehehhe” Marcus said bursting out into a fit of laughter in the middle of his sentence. “Next..hehhee…next we…eheheheh….we make sure….hehehhe…it’s…hahahhahhahahahaahah dark in here,” Marcus cackled.

               George had to really focus to do this task, his head hurt from so much concentration and yet he still couldn’t control himself. He would stop at times and just look out the windows as he attempted to block them with paper bags from the register. He stopped at one point seeing the duck again and just stared. He watched that duck walk, or waddle rather back and forth at least for times before his hand distracted him again. Then he returned to his task.

               Nearly done, George was covering the last gap in the window when the duck’s head popped up, right there…right in his face. He went berserk and began to scream at the top of his lungs. In his rage he punched the window as hard as he could the glass shattered on his hand and flew outward. The world outside didn’t stop though. George could feel his hand throbbing and the blood beginning to fall. There, however, was the duck, only inches from his grasp. He lunged forward thrusting his arm out through the whole and right through the duck…it was all an illusion, he had been chasing shadows. George felt like a complete fool as he covered up the last shattered bloodied hole.

               He walked back across the store holding his hand and swearing like a sailor. He walked back to Marcus and solemn faced turned to look at the man who was laughing hilariously. He was so angry he couldn’t fathom laughing at this point. He breathed hard and deep trying to control his rage and calm himself once more.
               “What’s left to do?” George asked.

               “Uhh,” Marcus said as he turned and shuddered to see all the blood, “Next we need some more of this,” he said shaking the pouch, “then you lay in the middle of the circle and I say the magic words.”
               They each took another lump of powder, George hesitating slightly, but taking the powder. Both of their eyes lit up once more as the powder worked its way into their systems. They were suddenly charged with energy, they seemed like they were hyper.

               “Ok, lets go!” Marcus said excitedly.

               “Huh? What?...DUCK!” George said.

               “Ok, well get the duck in the middle!” Marcus commanded.

               Conversation paused for a moment as both men froze and stared at the can of peas that was falling down. It turned in the air and spun around and around finally slamming into the ground and cracking a tile. The water inside seeped out slowly, like a wounded soldier bleeding to death. Their faces sagged and sadness filled their eyes…it was in explicable. George raced Marcus as they dashed for the peas. George won, picking up the can and cradling it in his arms as tears streamed down his face. He was uncontrollably sobbing no as Marcus patted his back. George let out a most disheartening scream.

               “Ok,” George said as he laid down in the middle of the circle. “Wait…I don’t see the duck here…you sure you saw him here?”

               “Positive,” Marcus responded as he frantically flipped through a book.

               Conversation paused for a moment as both men froze and stared at the can of peas that was falling down. It turned in the air and spun around and around finally slamming into the ground and cracking a tile. The water inside seeped out slowly, like a wounded soldier bleeding to death. Their faces sagged and sadness filled their eyes…it was in explicable. George raced Marcus as they dashed for the peas. George won, picking up the can and cradling it in his arms as tears streamed down his face. He was uncontrollably sobbing no as Marcus patted his back. George let out a most disheartening scream.

               The peas were pouring all over the floor now and George was soaked with his tears and the juice from the peas. Marcus grabbed George’s shoulder and motioned toward the can of peas and himself. George passed the can to Marcus who was just as over wrought over this. He wailed about the can’s youthfulness and yearning for life, and how it was cut down in the prime.

               “too yats dna too teg,” Marcus read from the book as he ran his finger over the lines. “too yats dna too teg, evael siht ecalp too yats dna too teg, evael siht ecalp,” he repeated over and over as he increased his speed.