Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20A | 20B | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25-26 | 27 | 28-29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35-36 | 37 | 38A | 38B | 38C | 38D | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42-43 | 44-45 | 46 | 47 | 48-49A | 49B | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57A | 57B | 58-59| 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68-69 | 70A | 70B | 71A | 71B | 72 | 73 | 74A | 74B | 75 | 76-77A | 77B | 78 | 79
PART III
GLADYS
80
N O V E M B E R 1 9 2 9
TREY’S GRANDPARENTS were, in fact, lovely people. They did make her feel welcome and cared for. Not loved, because she wouldn’t know. Like a child? Not quite, although they did their best. Marina knew it was too late for that, and after having had the kind of freedom she had with Trey, it was difficult to be herded. However, it was far more difficult to think, so she did the easier thing. And being herded wasn’t so bad when Grandmother Susanna herded her to high-culture amusements.
The ballet— The trick is to know the story before you go. The opera— I hate that warbling, but don’t tell my friends. The symphony— Gershwin cannot be matched. The theater— Sweet Adeline … Oh, I know I shouldn’t sing because I am so bad at it, but I love being in New York too much not to! Shopping at all the best stores— You would make the Machine and Mafia wives positively green with envy. To her and her friends’ tea parties and outings— They think you’re adorable.
The ballet was pretty.
The opera was awful.
The symphony was melancholy.
The theater was funny.
New York and Washington DC and Boston and Philadelphia were magnificent, the train ride soothing, and seeing the country exciting.
Shopping was overwhelming.
Grandmother Susanna’s friends were lovely.
Their daughter and son-in-law, Trey’s aunt and uncle, were also nice.
She read as much as she wanted and discussed the books with Grandfather Elliott, who seemed hungry for such conversation, as Grandmother’s eyes could not withstand reading for long periods of time anymore and she hated being read to. Marina learned as much about culture and the arts as her tired brain would hold. She went to mass or not as she cared to.
One week after Trey left, Grandmother Susanna took Marina to Chicago to retrieve Gladys’s money. Grandmother hired a Pinkerton man to accompany them to confront Marina’s real father and Marina did, indeed, look like him and he was, indeed, ugly as a rotten (now elderly) scarecrow. His wife was sporting a black eye not so artfully disguised and looked twice his age.
He wanted Gladys’s money and he even threatened the Pinkerton man to get it, but their bodyguard was not to be intimidated and he threatened suitable violence. Neither Grandmother Susanna nor Marina was perturbed by the confrontation. Thus, Marina decided Gladys had had a better life than that awful man’s wife, and the hurt that had driven her to suicide had to be worse than that.
She indulged Grandfather in his obsession for his family’s history, which was fascinating. He hinted that she should name a baby girl Celia in honor of the rumored pirate Dunham matriarch, and a boy Elliott, after the pirate earl. She didn’t mind; she did like the names and it was a small way to honor these people who had taken her in with no questions and made her feel wanted. Heaven knew, Marina had no one else to honor thusly.
She listened to his and Grandmother’s table conversation about the stock market and investing, why the Crash happened, what that meant for them, for Marina, for the rest of the country, for the world. If the next harvest or two around the world were good, everyone had a better chance to survive. They explained why they wanted Trey and Marina to keep their money out of the bank, as all the big money men in the country were selling off their investments and stuffing their own mattresses. If Rockefeller did it, so should Elliott and so should Trey. Marina listened to their explanations of why, with Kansas City’s flagrant flouting of Prohibition, it would fare better than most. Crime did pay, but Marina already knew that. In Kansas City, it paid for a whole lot of innocent people too.
“But only with Boss Tom,” Grandfather was careful to tell her, “because his older brother taught him genuine charity. It doesn’t work that way with the Mafia. I don’t know if he would be that charitable if he weren’t getting rich at the same time.” Trey and Marina’s conversation about the parable of the talents flashed through her head and then was gone, because she was too tired to think about it.
Under other circumstances, Marina would have had a grand ol’ time and wished Dot were with her—or at least, the Dot she’d grown up with, not the one who was so angry with her she refused to write.
“What a childish girl,” Grandmother said derisively. “Her parents should be ashamed.”
Marina opened her mouth to protest—
“I am sorry to malign your rescuers, dear, but Dot’s behavior is simply inexcusable. I would thrash a daughter of mine who was such a brat, provided I had raised such a brat, which I didn’t although it was a battle.”
Marina wished she could have been allowed to be a child like Dot. “Dot’s parents love her,” she said quietly, leaving it unsaid: Dot’s spoiledness was a small price to pay if one’s parents loved her.
Grandmother Susanna said only, “Children can be awful,” leaving Marina to wonder if she really wanted to be a child after all, or if she was an awful child. Grandmother said nothing more about Dot, but each day that passed without a letter her mouth tightened in anger on Marina’s behalf. Marina liked that. It softened the blow, made her understand she was not wrong about Dot’s willfulness, nor had she mistaken Dot’s resentment at being deprived of Marina’s attention.
That didn’t mean Marina didn’t miss Dot, but Marina didn’t have the energy to be angry after the first three weeks passed, and after a month, she stopped writing.
But no matter how wonderful and encouraging she found her stay with the Grandparents Dunham, she could only enjoy it quietly, with small smiles. No one questioned her lack of enthusiasm. She was pregnant after all, and when the grandparents asked, very kindly, if she was enjoying herself, she protested, “Oh, very much! But I was trained not to show it.”
She didn’t explain how little she wanted to feel happiness because it came with a steep price she didn’t want to pay. The past Sunday’s mass had focused on the opposite: the hurt was what made happiness so valuable. Marina would rather not hurt than suffer to be happy for a little bit, knowing something else would come along to punish her for being happy.
“I appreciate your kindness,” she said sincerely. “Very much. You didn’t know me and didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have anything to do with this.”
They looked at each other, then away. Not at Marina.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Grandmother Susanna rushed to say. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all. We’re … um, we’re sad for you.”
She was lying, but Marina couldn’t figure out why because it was a perfectly normal response. But instead of sad, they seemed … guilty. She let that mystery go. She knew she didn’t have enough information, there would be no big reveal, and her brain was too tired to care.
She had prayed for rescue. The Jewel Tea man rang the doorbell.
She had prayed for refuge. Trey had sent her to safety.
She had prayed for someone to take care of her. The wealthy Dunhams had thrown their home open to her, where the only thing she had to do was stay alive, stay healthy, and, hopefully, enjoy herself.
She had asked. She had been given.
Did that mean God existed?
And if he did, where had he been when Gladys Truesdell needed him? Did heaven exist and if so, what was it like? Was Gladys with him now, in heaven? Some religions said people who committed suicide went straight to hell. But Dot said there was no hell, only regret to contemplate in a pretty park while picking peonies.
Right now, the Dunhams’ home in St. Louis was about as close to heaven as she could imagine without dying to find out.
80
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
Donations can be made here, if you so desire.
Houston, we have a First.
Y’all need to get in here. Poor deadhead is alone with a crampy, cranky, tired, menstrual woman.
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/87821224358?pwd=eW55MTRDbDNtQkh2aHd3M1Nmenlzdz09
My internet worked fine all morning and afternoon, which is unusual. It mysteriously went down an hour ago, but came back after I finished writing a poem in Swahili. I guess my NSA minders enjoy my poetry. I doubt I will reach Walt Whitman or Robert Frost territory, but there’s only one way to find out. I also wrote a poem in Arabic. I’m pretty sure the regulars here know where my blog is, so I’ll forgo the link.
I’ll be in the zoom room presently.
Marina seems to be divided between wanting to be a child and mistress of her own life. At present life is good for Marina. I get a sense though that she’s thinking life with Trey wasn’t so bad, though not as secure as with the senior Dunhams.
When things can’t go on as they have been (living the good life) they don’t.
Moj, you’re leading us down a path of sudden change.
Thanks, I’ll be waiting another week
When I switch up gears like that, I separate the book into parts. Elevator to the Gallows is done. Now we’re in Gladys phase. Spoiler: This one doesn’t last too long.
A break from Trey isn’t unwelcome at this point.
You ain’t kiddin’.
Thanks Mo, still following eagerly. The new part is welcome.
Except I’m going to have GLaDOS in my head for some time now.
Marina was at her breaking point, and I needed a rest. LOL
#metoo
Goodness that was intense.
Merry National North Dakota Day, you filthy animals.
I was wondering where you were. Day was snow then sunshine followed by snow ad infinitum. I was blaming the weather on you.
I’m sure you celebrated NNDD in the correct manner.
I did; cursing the cold, snowy, windy weather. As is the tradition.
What is this ‘snow’?!
The “funny” part is we had the warmest winter on record with virtually no snow. Now April decides it doesn’t much care if we think it should be Spring or not.
(It’s only a dusting, and it’s supposed to be in the 50s and 60s moving forward…but still.)
Look who’s here. FWIW, I’m in Denver and it’s been snowing since early this afternoon.
sounds like a personal problem. 😉
I rented an 8 hp rear tine tiller and tilled my garden (and assorted chickenshit) during the snowflakes today. I’m looking into expanding (biggering and biggering) into the woods.
This is the Third International Firster’s day of the year. I’ve never heard of any North Dakota day you liar.
Third. That’s so fitting for you. I only celebrate Firsts.
what was old is new again:
***
Focal infection theory (FIT) as the primary cause of systemic disease rapidly became accepted by mainstream dentistry and medicine after World War I. This acceptance was largely based upon what later turned out to be fundamentally flawed studies. As a result, millions of people were subjected to needless dental extractions and surgeries.[14] The original studies supporting FIT began falling out of favor in the 1930s. By the late 1950s, it was regarded as a fringe theory.
***
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fringe_science
Reminds me of COVID and the great vaccine mania.
” focal infection theory, which held that focal infections of the tonsils or teeth are a primary cause of systemic disease,”
I had my tonsils removed at about 6 YO. It was quite common, part of childhood. Must have worked ’cause I’m still here.
There’s a number of word nerds here, I hear. I just discovered this delightful (and long as hell) takedown of the English language: Gerard Nolst Trenité – The Chaos
A small taste:
And yet, by the time we’re about 12 or so, we’ve mastered the local dialect.
You betcha.
If there’s bullheads in the crick
Uffda, y’all.
The watermelon guy did it better.
There isn’t a single thing ever that that guy did better.
You would be a Gallagher fan you fucking cunt.
Poetry is gay. NTTAWWT.
Well, when is the other shoe going to drop? Marina cannot be allowed happiness.
From the latest emails I got from the Trump campaign:
***
I’m TRAPPED. I’m being DRAGGED to court so often that I’m being taken off the campaign trail.
THE DEEP STATE DOESN’T WANT ME TO BE PRESIDENT EVER AGAIN!
ELECTION INTERFERENCE!
Before I step out of court, I want to see ONE MILLION MAGA PATRIOTS supporting me right here right now. Please chip in and say: I STAND WITH PRESIDENT TRUMP >
STAND WITH TRUMP
It breaks my heart that I can’t spend more time with TRUE TRUMP REPUBLICANS like you. But I have felt your love and support through every single:
#1 RAID.
#2 ARREST.
#3 INDICTMENT.
#4 WITCH HUNT.
#5 IMPEACHMENT.
STAND WITH TRUMP
I’m in this fight until the bitter end, no matter what FILTHY DISGUSTING plot the DEEP STATE tries!
I WILL NEVER SURRENDER
***
***
42 DAYS OF HELL!
Now is the time to help me SAVE AMERICA and chip in >
A Democrat Judge in New York pledges to keep me on trial for SIX WEEKS!
ELECTION INTERFERENCE!
And while I’m in court defending myself as an INNOCENT MAN, Crooked Joe Biden is campaigning and raising MILLIONS to defeat us!
THEY THINK THEY CAN BURY OUR CAMPAIGN IN DIRTY DOLLARS WHILE I’M FORCED TO BE IN COURT – BUT I KNOW YOU WON’T LET THAT HAPPEN!
STAND WITH TRUMP
Continued support from patriots like you is our MOST VALUABLE tool in helping us WIN in November.
I’m not kidding when I say this, but without you by my side, this campaign would be dead in the water.
So before the day is over, I’m asking my STRONGEST supporters to stick with me one more time by chipping in and saying, “I STAND WITH PRESIDENT TRUMP!” >
STAND WITH TRUMP
Thomas, I trust you more than ANYONE in the DC Swamp.
When Biden’s corrupt regime tries to put my back against the wall, I know I can ALWAYS count on your support.
***
This election really is a choice between the shit sandwich and douche nozzle.
But one is a senile, corrupt warmonger and the other isn’t. Just the same, choose your own adventure.
I think it was trashy who said that he doesn’t waste mental energy pondering his miniscule influence on an increasingly irrelevant process.
Insert ‘always has been meme’
Here you go
https://youtu.be/Xl4fxNHUpvU
Good night, gang. Until we meet again.
Well, poop. It was a busy night. Sorry I missed you.
Excerpts from the Human Torch’s manifesto:
https://archive.is/ysP9U
***
Why were the Manson Family murders crawling with cover-ups and intelligence agents? Because our government wanted to make us fear for our lives and believe that hippies are deranged psychopaths.
Why did Walt Disney produce a fraudulent documentary that told us Lemmings follow each other off cliffs? So we would believe it.
Why did The Beatles tell us to fear the taxman, to scoff at revolution, chase nonsense conspiracy theories, and that happiness is a warm gun? So we would believe it.
Why did Easy Rider tell us that the hippie movement was dead? So we would believe it.
…
If a small number of people quickly put on these truth-colored glasses, we are in for an unimaginably bright future. If not, we get an apocalypse.
***
I wonder if he ever saw the movie They Live.
***
I no longer have my original research files from the crypto rabbit hole. If you want to see them, you’ll have to get my laptop back from the government. Ask them how they got it – it’s a very fun story.
***
Why not just tell the story if that is what happened? NSA did a bunch of crazy shit to me, and I wrote it all down complete with evidence. On the whole, he strikes me as a mentally-ill leftist (but wait, I repeat myself). In some ways, I think jokes at the expense of guys like this is good if it discourages others from acting likewise. If you self-immolate in protest, your message/cause will most likely not become more powerful or popular. People will think you’re nuts and randos will make fun of you.
Up early and time to rassle the day. Ground is white, barely. Starts the warm up all over again.
Good morning to all the Glib ladies and gents (and any sleepy-eyed government lurkers.)
Time to catch up with the old news.
Good morning, 4(20)! No snow in SW OH, but we’re having a bit of a cool-down this weekend. Time to make some hot chai latte!
And enjoy Tranquility Base?
Oh, I’m afraid it’s much too chilly for that this morning. It’s only 46 degrees American. I may get the place tidied up and set up for the season late this coming week – next weekend is forecast to be much warmer, albeit rainy.
😉
😁👍☕
Wakey, wakey!
🌄😎🍳
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dxytyRy-O1k
🎶🎶
Mornin’ all
Good morning, Beau!
Good morning to you GT! For the second day in a row I’ve been awake since 3:30 🙁
Nobody ever said trying to date was easy, but … smdh
Trying to date??? 😃 We may need to hear more about that…but lucky for you this thread is about to die. 😉