Wed. Words: Clarisse-the-she-devil and Samuel

Grammie announced that she would hold a Formal Spring Tea Bridal Shower for Clarisse and Samuel.  “Oh, they have been friends since pre-school!  Imagine our two families together!”

Nana shook her head.  She has no idea, none at all.  Samuel AND Clarisse-the-she-devil? God help us…she choked at the possibilities.

The day came with the frippery and frivolity that only Grammie could create.  It was as if a Smurf and Pepto-Bismol had smashed into each other.  Guests held comments with great restraint, smiling at the lovely bride.  Being at Grammie’s hosted events meant that respect, true or false, was expected.

Clarisse rigidly held back, as if coated in royal icing.  Oh, Samuel…how could you let me fall for this?

As if reading her thoughts, an airplane flew overhead, pulling a long banner.  Clarisse squinted to read the message.

Clarisse, I love you!  Get the Hell outta there!  Samuel

And Clarisse threw off her heels, taking off at a run.  Samuel waited on a Harley, revved-up and ready to go.  In your face, Grammie!

The sites listed below are my intro to a long running character, Samuel, a brilliant sociopath.

p.s.  Intro to Samuel

Samuel with Grammie's yarn

Intro to Clarisse

Ginger vs. Samuel

Samuel vs. Santa Clause

The above photo was taken by RW Linder at http://rgbstock.com.  My computer is struggling with hacking into Google.

Samuel leapt from his bed, his entire body filled with anticipation.  Today!  Today we will meet again, Santa!  He and Nana were heading to the Mall for the annual tell-Santa-what-you-want visit.

However, Santa was his equal in every way.  The game is afoot, jolly fat man!

The preliminaries of the day over and his winter gear zipped up, Samuel noted The Mother at her cluttered craft table, painting last minute projects in acrylic paints of all colors.  Samuel gifted his mom with a spontaneous hug.  “I love you, Mommy!”  

Then he was off.  Off to see Santa.

No side trips for them—Nana wanted to eliminate collateral damage.  She remembered the last Hallmark debacle.  After shattered snow globes, Samuel had moved on with a red Sharpie© marker and signed twenty sympathy cards with hearts and “Nana”.  Not again, little man.

There he was: The Jolly Fat Man himself.  Samuel gave him a shy smile, accompanying cold blue eyes.  Bring it on, do your best…

Then Samuel stood at the bottom of the red carpet stairs.  Santa smiled, acknowledging his old adversary.  Samuel wriggled up onto the red velvet lap with the difficulty a three-and-a-half year old child.

“So, Samuel!  What will it be this year?  What do you want?” Santa added, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”

Have I been naughty or nice?  Samuel smiled the smile of the innocent. Then Santa whispered into Samuel's ear, accounting the sins of the entire year.
 

How did he know about the car oil?  And the screw driver?  Mommy’s brush?  Samuel sighed in admission...confession given. 

Samuel squirmed uncomfortably.  ”So, Samuel, I will visit your fireplace again.  Sugar cookies this time.”  Santa laid a finger aside his nose.  “Ho, Ho…”

Samuel suddenly hugged Santa tightly, patting his back and long hair, before climbing down.  Later, dude.

As Samuel raced to the exit door, Nana ran to catch him.  Pretty spry, Nana!

Then the shouting and assorted obscenities began.  Samuel turned to see Santa in his new improved suit, white acrylic paint streaming down Santa’s pant leg and onto his black boot; his back plastered with black handprints and flowing stripes of yellow.

Samuel tossed the acrylic bottles into the trash bins, and Nana grabbed him.  They escaped, Samuel and Nana. She was smiling.

Samuel Takes the Test

Source: xymonau

It is time. Nana stewed the day after the Baptist Church incident. 

Nana realized that Samuel was ready to go to the school, EDUCATION FOR THE GIFTED AND CREATIVE.  His father Nathan had done well there, after all. 

Samuel recognized the school immediately and swallowed the gall of panic.  Think, man, think!  But events moved too quickly once the doors closed and Samuel was in the company of Nana and her friend, Dr. Anna. 

Source: SeeVee

After brief introductions to a saccharine insipid Miss Bethany, Samuel was given instructions: Create as many colors as he could with the materials provided.

Samuel found himself in a pleasant circular room, softly illuminated overhead, with white board walls and tan seamless flooring.  He noted a large mirror curving around part way…Oh, seriously?  One way mirrors?!  So old school....  

Source

Walking slowly around the room and running his hands along the white board, Samuel observed several things:  the walls had no seams; he could just reach the one way mirror if he stretched enough; and, there were three floor level heating vents with no screws and a metal mesh covers.

In the center of the room was a solid round white table made of some strong resin in one piece.  There was a similar chair, again with no seams, screws, or nails.

Next to the table were five cardboard boxes, filled with supplies.  Samuel squatted down by them, eyeing them carefully.  He began to remove each item one by one, making mental notes.

Boxes large kindergarten-type crayons in red, blue, and yellow?  Do they think I need this many?

Chalk, lots of yellow, blue, and red chalk?   Hmmm…an interesting choice of medium…

Now, let’s see what else: Empty cups, jars of thick peppermint paste, boxes of tongue depressors, Elmer’s glue, tempura paint in primary colors…Don’t they realize what I can do with all of this? 

Source: ba1969

Samuel began pacing around the supplies and glancing at spots in the circular room.  He climbed up on the table, standing tall over the room.  Then he looked directly into the one-way mirror.

Miss Bethany cleared her throat.  “Clearly he is overwhelmed.  Look at his stillness, at the lack of expression.  Let’s get him out of there…”

Dr. Anna spoke quietly, “No, I think we need to give him time.”  Another doctor concurred, followed by murmurs of consent.  “Samuel is, after all Nathan’s son, Dr. Nana’s grandson.”

Nana said not a word, keeping eye contact with Samuel.  ‘Oh, Samuel, they do not know what you can do…’

Source: bies

Samuel smiled, a sweet 3 ½ year old smile.  Let the games begin…

He jumped off the table.

What will Samuel do next?  What do you think will happen?  Where will Samuel go from here?

Samuel and the First Baptist Church

Source: TACLUDA

With Nana living in the guest room, a heavy handed clamp fell.  Lock-step grated on Samuel, creating a bubble of suppressed creativity.  If something does not free me from this hell hole, I cannot be held responsible.  Samuel steamed.

Destiny intervened.

 Nana’s long-time friend Pastor Beech of the First Baptist Church had recently called, leaving a flyer that boasted of the innovative and structured childcare available. 

On a fateful Sunday with Samuel clutched between them, The Mommy and Nana dragged him to the childcare room, a delightful sunny room with a large painted mural of Jesus and little children. 

Samuel smiled.  So this is Jesus…let the children come unto Me…

Nana perceived a mental warning bell.  She ignored it, leaving Samuel with four smiling women and one sullen teenage Goth girl.

Samuel scoped out the room.  Window—no problem.  Paint—only tempera, but usable.  Jesus—His face within reach.  Goth girl’s purse—open with make-up.  Lipstick—black. 

A boy and his art media.  Oh, God is good, all the time.  This is gonna be epic…

Church service had moved beyond the songs and offering collection.  The Mommy and Daddy were smiling.  But, Nana felt hackles rise.  ‘Samuel.  Oh no, not here.’

When the Head Usher scurried to Nana, she rose without a word.  Seeing a look of horror and a black streak down his left cheek, Nana sighed. ‘He found someone’s lipstick.  Damn.’

She ran to the child care room, where the toddlers were huddled behind Mrs. Beech. 

The other women chased the other screaming three year terrors; they had streaked the walls with rainbows of Crayola markers.  The Noah’s Ark poster was a sodden mess of yellow and red paint, while the window glass had splats of green and black.

Samuel was just putting the finishing touches on Jesus’ face with the lipstick.  A uni-brow and a tattoo, perfect!  Now, just some heavier body hair…

Nana scooped him under one arm and stalked from the room. 

In the seething silent drive home, Samuel hummed, Yes, Jesus loves me!  Yes, Jesus loves me…  “We go again, Nana?”  He asked.

Carl Heinrich Bloch, Luke 18: 16-17

Nana Moves In

Source

A dull day, that is what this is,dull gray.  Samuel thought as he looked up from a coloring project to The Mother.  She was making a cake for Nana, who was moving in with them. 

Grammy had moved in with Aunt Tammy Whammy when she decided she was ‘out of her depth’ with Samuel.  Out of her depth?  Samuel smiled at the words.  The old lady was drowning in the deep-end.  He continued working on a “Welcome, Nana!” sign.  The mother had written the words, although Samuel believed he could have conveyed the message better with his fiery bombs and flaming people.  Oh, well, whatever.

The mother had just poured the batter into the 8 ½ x 11 pan when the doorbell rang.  Jehovah Witnesses or young Mormon men?  She would prefer the young Mormons.  When she didn’t return right away, Samuel nodded.  The men.  Well, then. 

Samuel climbed down from his chair and ran to the opposite side of the table to peer into the cake better.  Oh, Fun-Fetti.  This is perfect. 

Thinking on the fly was one of his many gifts.  Scooping up some bits of broken crayons, Samuel carefully placed and pushed them into the cake.  Maybe a few more on this side?  After effectively burying the crayon shreds, Samuel returned to the sign, innocent by all accounts.

The Mother returned to the table, smiling and blushing.  Nothing like religion to make one happy.  She placed the cake into the preheated oven, and cleaned up the kitchen, humming happily.  Every now and then, she gave Samuel a nervous smile.

Samuel returned her smile.  “You okay there, Buddy?  Wanta play a video game?”  Okay?  I am juuuust fine. 

The timer rang and The Mother carefully removed the cake from the oven and placed it on the high counter.  Leaving the oven door open just enough to let the oven cool, The Mother ran to the bathroom.  The bathroom door closed.

Oh, woman.  Do you even think about the possibilities?  Samuel peered at the partially open door, and silently lowered it down.  Still hot, but not dangerous.  Grabbing some broken crayons, Samuel tossed them onto the oven shelves and bottom.  Oh, how lovely.  Samuel watched at the colored pieces spread out and pool in rainbow glory.  Silently Samuel closed the oven door, knowing The Mother would never notice.

The Mother returned.  “Nap time, young man.  For you and me both.” 

Samuel acquiesced, holding her hand lovingly.  The Mother was confused, but accepted this new step in Samuel’s life:  possible obedience.

In his room, Samuel listened for new sounds.  When the front door slammed and happy voices sounded, he knew Nana had arrived.  He listened as Nana spoke about the big roast she had ready to cook.  The oven will be heated up next.  He felt a tickle of anticipation.

Source

The smell of scorched crayon filled the house.  Oh, glory!

“SAMUEL!”  A dull gray day transformed into one of joyful color. 

Source

Samuel and Santa Continue..

We have all been there...HehHeh

Holding Samuel’s hands in a firm gloved grip, Santa leaned in, “I see that Ginger and you have formed an alliance.  That won’t end well for her, so back off.”  Santa let loose with another HO! HO! HO!  “That birthday party, well, what can I say?  It was a brilliant, but you deserve a boatload of coal on that one…”

Santa proceeded to reveal his knowledge about The Father’s electric shaver and Mother’s fancy boots.  About the garage black operation with the oil can and the neighbor’s convertible.  All of the things no one could prove.  He had seen so much, everything.

Get it over, Old Man.  I have a list of things I want for Christmas:  First, Nana needs to move out of the house, and…

But Santa cut him off.  “HO! HO!...”  He was cut off with a deeply felt groan after Samuel aimed a good hard shoe at Santa’s family jewels.

 

A very special gift for you, and it should be delivered very soon...

Santa’s eyes never lost its twinkle.  “Well, Samuel.  I have a very special gift for you, and it should be delivered very soon.  So, down ye go, lad.  Go about your business.  The tree by the exit will do nicely.”

Samuel smiled with delight.  As he wiggled down off Santa’s lap, Samuel cut loose with a long held fart.  They both smiled.  All was understood.

As Nana and The Mother stopped to get the photo, their backs were turned.  Samuel found the tree by the exit.  With a great sigh, Samuel unzipped and let the stream of yellow pee flow deep into the tree’s roots.  He zipped up, turning in time to see Santa give him a thumbs-up.  Maybe the Fat Guy is not so bad…I wonder if that is what he does to our Christmas tree…

He knows when you've been sleeping, he knows when you're awake...This always creeped me out.

Note:  so many new readers wondered about Samuel's backstory.  I have created a new blog which starts today and will run the old Samuel stories.  I will continue to post the new ones here and add them there.  Here is the address: http://sekanewriter.blogspot.com

Samuel vs. Ginger

Thanks Pam and Dawn! See*Photo*Write

Heavy rain pelted the Old Church door and Samuel coughed.  It was a wet cough followed by yellow goo from his nose.  Misery was running high.

The Mommy had cleaned him up, wiping his nose again.  ‘Just let it flow, woman!’  Samuel had already found the sofa and chairs useful enough. 

The doorbell rang, and Aunt Tammy came whooshing through the door.  An irritatingly cheerful woman, “Oh, whittle Sammie Whammy has duh sniffuls?” as she scooped him up.  “Oh, who’s duh cutest…” 

Samuel let loose with a full-bodied sneeze right into her open mouth.  ‘Just for you, Tammy Whammy!’

The Mommy carried in a gift from Tammy’s car:  a round fish bowl with a deep-red fish swirling around, its fins fluttering in clear water.  Setting it on the table, she wiped Samuel’s nose again and took him from the retching Aunt Tammy.

Putting Samuel down by the table, the Mommy called, “Here’s some tea!”  Tammy stumbled, retching all the way to the kitchen, leaving Samuel.  Eye level with the fish bowl, Samuel considered it.

Ginger-the-old-fat-tabby appeared on a chair next to Samuel.  Their eyes met, thoughts were exchanged, and challenges made.  Who is faster?  Who is better?  Who will win this battle?

Samuel saw only one way. Giving it his all, Samuel screamed and cried, “Whaaaa!  Mommmmmmammmmmmaaa…”

The Mommy came, saw the crying child pointing at the cat, and grabbed the Ginger.  She scolded the old cat all the way to the front door.  Ginger and Samuel exchanged looks.  ‘So this is the way it is to be,’ Ginger glared through slitted eyes.

Time enough.  Just time enough.  Samuel grabbed the fish bowl between snotty hands, pulling it to the edge.  ‘Be free, my friend.  Be free.’  The bowl dropped.

Samuel: The Aftermath

Source

It was Nana who rounded all the children up, and took them to the deck.  The whole flock of three-year olds plopped down and waited with serious eyes.  Soon they would be whisked away to be cleaned up and taken home for their naps.

The pitchers of Sangria had been drained dry, causing some of the mothers to stagger as they wiped down the cake mess.  Nana put on some coffee and started force-feeding the women with extra caffeine.

Samuel sat off to the side with his crew.  To look at them, no one would know that this was all their doing.  That all the destruction, the soiled and busted bouncing castle, and the run-away pony—all was accomplished with those four children.

Samuel felt an inner glow that always came after a successful venture, the sense that all was well with the world. Such a great day, the best birthday yet!  Everything, all of it!  Man.  I wish we could do it all over.

Then Nana took him by the hand and led him to his bedroom.  They sat down on his ‘big boy’ bed, and Nana looked Samuel straight in the eyes.  She held his eyes with her own until Samuel felt the glow shrivel, the pride shut down.

“Samuel.  Did you even think about what would happen to the pony?  To the young man who loves him?  Did you wonder about that boy Jason who had to go into the ‘castle’ to save all your little friends?  What if he had not done that?”

Samuel’s eyes grew big and he blinked big earnest tears.  I..no, well…I didn’t know…  Nana’s words hit him harder than any hand could.

“Think about those two young men, what they have to do now.”  Nana stood up and took off Samuel’s shoes, getting ready for a nap. She led him to the toilet where he could pee.  After all, Samuel had not been in the castle.

Later, his bed was a silent sepulcher for Samuel: stone cold and devoid of any happy thought at all. What will I do now?  Now that I know about other people, and actually care?  What can I do?

To read about Samuel's third birthday, go to this link:
Uncle Marvin tells what he saw 

What do you think Samuel will do now?  How will he deal with this conflict of conscience and talent for destruction?  After all, the very essence of Samuel is at stake!

Samuel and the Third Birthday, pt. 1

Let the games begin!

Samuel watched the backyard activity from his booster seat at the table.  Today was his third birthday and he felt powerful.

Samuel was wearing his brand-new Spiderman briefs.  If only Spidey were real.  If only I had that power…oh the worlds I could conquer.  But with great power comes great responsibility. 

I must make this day one to remember.  It is destiny.  Samuel determined as the bouncing castle slowly inflated.  He observed a cowboy with full chaps and lasso lead a shaggy pony through the back gate. Neither looked happy. What hell their lives must be...

Samuel glanced at Ginger the tabby cat that had scampered to the top of the very tall china hutch.  Wise choice, cat.  Keep safe, my friend.

Climbing down from his chair, Samuel recalled his last birthday.  That was epic, a perfect day.  So many elements jelled into a fine social event: green vomit down Nana’s back, Ginger’s attack on Grammy’s wig, Aunt Tammy’s false teeth floating in the toilet, his brief escape out the front door—a memory for all time.

The front door opened, allowing a herd of fellow three-year olds entry.  Among them were she-devil Clarisse, ever-wily Charlie and mindless-flunky Buddy.    The flood of children poured out the back door with scream that set the pony shivering.

Samuel and his three man crew gazed after them.  Men, this will be a day for the ages.  Let the games begin.  Squaring their shoulders and hiking up the Spiderman and Barbie undies, the four emerged into the light.

Source of great power

Samuel and Sarge

The Throne

 Samuel heard “Sarge” whispered that night.

“We can’t do it.  We tried today, but Samuel is too strong for us!”  The Mommy sobbed. 

Samuel heard The Daddy sigh.  “Sarge. He’ll do it.”

What can’t Nana handle?  Samuel thought.  That woman could handle a charging bull.  Oh…today Nana tried to cut his hair.  The Mommy had a lock hold on him which usually worked. Not today. Heh.  Heh.  That was a fine moment.

The next day, The Daddy drove Samuel to a dingy barber shop far away.  Afternoon was passing into dark when they walked through the door. CLOSED said the sign. 

A scrawny old man stood waiting for them.  Old, but his arms showed muscles and tattoos.  Semper Fi.  Old, but ‘don’t mess with me’.  “This your boy?  Looks like ya.  Well, climb up, kid.  Let’s see what ya got.”

There was a throne.  Entitlement at last.  Finally.  Someone recognizes my true place.  He climbed up, surging with power.

 Sarge moved.  Awfully fast for an old man, Sarge had straps around legs and arms, then a red cape over Samuel. 

“Put yerself over ‘im.  He might pull loose.”  The Daddy launched himself across Samuel’s lap.  Samuel heard a buzzzz, and his eyes widened.

Limbs struggled against the restraints; one leg got free.  Lashing out, it hit The Daddy square in the groin.  Groooooan.  Buzzzz. 

Swinging his head around, his baby teeth clamped down on flesh. Semper Fi.  Grrrr.  Buzzzz.

Kick.  Bite.  Groan.  Grrrr.  Buzzzzzzzzzz.

It was over.  The cape sent hair flying, straps were undone. 

The Daddy hobbled around the shop.  Sarge wiped the blood from his arm and lit a cigar.

Samuel crawled down, leaning over to throw up.  Power is hard on a 2 ½ year old tummy.

He saw his reflection in a mirror.  Samuel rubbed his nearly bald hair.  Tears formed.  Okay, Nana.  You win.

Buzzzzzzz....

Nana visits Samuel

 

Wikipedia

Samuel stared through the bars of the playpen as he groaned at just another incarceration.  What had he done?  Just the usual stuff, but this time?  

First, he had coughed up a ball of green-yellow phlegm, and spit it on a really old carpet beyond the bars, one that had been in great-grandma's house.  Heh, heh, heh. Then, Samuel had been charged with screaming loudly, marking graffiti on public walls in a diaper medium, and randomly destroying stuff. Good times.

But last one? It was epic.  With just a plastic knife, Samuel had repeatedly stabbed the arm of the couch, tossing foam and stuffing wherever they fell.  It did not end well. 

It was a reach for him, Samuel realized.  "Keep it simple" he reminded himself. Next time.

Samuel then realized that his diaper was beyond damp, and had begun  dripping.  With strong lungs only a two year-old toddler possesses, Samuel cried and sobbed. Mommy, mommy!  Sometimes being one who is not-yet-potty-trained is a blessing.  

A lot is forgiven when a diaper is full. 

This a post from 2014, using words from Wednesday Words. As always, great fun was had by all.