Summer school, cool breeze, and birthdays for Billy

Since Allison updated her blog and since I turned my detective story in like 3 weeks ago, I'd say it's about time for me to post.

It's summer now, Billy started school and I started my online class. It's completely online, there are some people that are taking it in Long Beach and the Bay Area. I am taking it here, but that's fine. It's General Psychology, by the way. Super bogus and boring, but it fulfills what I need it to. Billy is busy, he has 2 classes, one at 9:30 and one at 12:30. It's nice because he comes home inbetween at about 11 (when I wake up!) and he eats lunch while I eat breakfast. It's also good for him because he's riding his bike more.

It's awesome weather here now. Our apartment has a lot of windows, and we like to open our sliding door and put the fan next to it and it gets very breezy. We have a little thing that tells the temperature and it usually doesn't go over 80 unless we're cooking something. Right now it's at 75.2 F. Very comfortable. 

We came back from San Jose on Sunday. Billy started getting a rash from some kind of allergic reaction (I guess) from something still unknown! The rash is still there, all over his arms and belly, but it gets better. He went to the doctor and they said they can't tell what it is because he didn't eat anything unusual, so it could be anything. They just gave him an antihistamine and let him go on his way. If it doesn't get better in a couple of days, we'll have to do something. Also, he's turning 25 on Friday!! I'm really happy, but I don't know if we're going to do anything in the form of a party. Last year around now we were in Disneyland with Tim & Charlotte and we got a Birthday Button for Billy (wow, alliteration!!) and we got free stuff. 

Oh, also! While we were in San Jose, we ate cake. Wedding cake. That's right, year-old wedding cake. Billy's mom saved it in her huge freezer and so we ate a little piece of the top tier (chocolate with chocolate mousse filling. I was happy, Billy liked it ok) and we gave the rest to my family and other people that were at my house eating food. It tasted exactly the same as it did a year ago except after I ate it, I felt a little sick. Gross.

My detective story

My final for my English 193 class (Detective Fiction) is to write a detective story of my own. I admit it isn't very good, but it IS a detective story, and it is also enough to pass my class. It's posted backwards, so you can read from here, and scroll down (as opposed to up) to the end! It's broken up into a few parts, there are natural breaks in the story so if you get tired of reading, you can come back later, or just not read it.
A side note, all of the places in the story are real from my own memory! There is one I had to make up for the story, but Darren Gains' house is my grandparent's house, Ore's house in Columbus is where my dad grew up before they moved to the farm, and many of the stories are true! Just ask when you're done!
It is called "A Rushville Overnighter"

Gains sat on his dingy green couch waiting for the Raid commercial to end. The blasted things are too long and three times louder than the show you’re watching. His living room-dining room looked like it was made from boards crusted in dirt. He had never finished putting up the sheetrock because the electrical work was too much of a pain. Now all the colored wires hang from the walls and ceiling, and slits through the boards. Some were so wide you could see through to the kitchen window and out to the barn outside. He had too many things he wanted to start, but not finish.
Finally the program came back from its commercial break—another re-run of Walker, Texas Ranger. Before the break, Walker just roundhouse kicked someone in the face and they were down for the count. Soon all justice was restored and the credits rolled. Gains stood up and went to the kitchen. He filled up a dusty glass with tap water and looked out on the junkyard in front of the barn. Two cars and a tractor were no longer in working order—except as lawn ornaments. He didn’t need the tractor anyway; weeds and wild plants had overrun the land for forty years and there was no use putting in the effort now.
“Rita, I’m going out for a walk,” Gains said. Rita stared through her bowl and let out a few bubbles. “Don’t wait up for me,” called Gains.
The sky was light blue streaked with stringy clouds. The Ohio air was crisp and cold, but at least the humidity wasn’t so bad today. Gains trudged up the hill through tall grass and thickets with his ancient shotgun by his side. He liked to keep it nearby because his land was almost completely wild now. About thirty years earlier, Gains renewed his excitement for his land and wanted to try his lot at making some money off of the farm. He planted 50 Christmas trees, forgot or got bored, and now the pine trees were mixed with the brush and the buckeyes. Even though the farmland was useless now, he liked to care for it occasionally. Where the Christmas trees grew, he always mowed a little clearing so he could come outside on days where he felt his brain turning to mush from all of his TV programs. No one could bother him here, and they probably wouldn’t want to anyway.
He was thinking about trying potatoes this year, when he saw it. A red, silk high-heeled shoe. He walked over to the shoe and studied it. There were brown stains on the front and it belonged to a left foot. He couldn’t help but wonder where the other one was. He walked over to the brush and poked around the trees until he found the other shoe.
The right heel was wearing a pale, scratched brunette with bruises all over her taped up arms. Her green eyes were light and staring off at the midday sky. Her mouth had been taped shut and she had suffered some kind of stab wound. Darren Gains backed up when he found her, then drew nearer and absorbed the scene into his brain. Who is she? More importantly, why is she here? With all of his questions, Darren couldn’t help but feel like he recognized the woman.

Oh no! The fuzz!!

“Tina Stark. You know her?” Detective Graham was tired of Gains already.
“Only from TV. What’s she doing here?” Gains answered. He recognized Tina from a television show that was cancelled four years ago.
“Well, she had an audition at a theater in Columbus tomorrow, but I don’t think she’ll make it. How about you Gains?”
Gains seemed calm to the detective, but he was pissed off that some 27-year old police academy graduate was acting like a hot shot in his house. There was nothing to explain about the body: he’d never met the girl, doesn’t know any famous people, and most of all didn’t know why she was on his farm. Maybe it was a coincidence that some freak that had killed her and happened to pull off the road at his house and dumped her body there by the Christmas trees. Gains didn’t believe this for a minute—no one goes down Otterbein Road unless they need to. No, it was clear to Darren Gains that someone had intentionally used his farm as the dumping spot, but that was something he didn’t want Detective Graham to know.
“What play?” asked Gains.
“Excuse me?”
“What play was she auditioning for in Columbus?”
“Why do you care, Gains?” Graham had lost his patience hours ago.
“I figure I’m going to be here for a little while, since you’re not done with me yet. I just want to know the facts. I mean, she was on my farm, which makes her my dead chick. So, what play was it, Det. Graham?”
Graham paused after this question a moment, flipped through his memo pad where he had scrawled some notes. He found the play, “It was with Midwest Productions, something called ‘Planet of the Aces.’”
“Planet of the Aces?” Gains had never heard of it.
“That’s what it says, ‘a musical production of Planet of the Aces!’”
Gains laughed.
“Don’t you mean ‘Planet if the Apes?’” Gains didn’t say it out loud, but he was starting to think that Tina Stark had hit rock bottom. “Who’s producing it? Who was she auditioning in front of?”
“You’re not supposed to be asking the questions, you old low-life. What were you doing last night at 11PM?” Graham was really fired up now.
Gains stayed calm and simply explained his activities (mainly watching TV, except that he was at the Red Mill, his local bar, from 8:30 to midnight just to watch TV somewhere else). He provided the phone number of the bar, which Graham directed another officer to dial and check Darren’s alibi. Gains then added, “I have cooperated with you Det. Graham. I don’t know where this broad came from or why she’s here, someone must have dumped her in my yard just to ditch the body. But, it might have something to do with whoever she was going to go see, so who was it?”
Graham was beyond annoyed with this old man, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to take him in for the murder unless they get some very convincing lab results. Graham knew that he probably didn’t kill her, if he had, it probably would have been with that ancient shotgun. No, Gains wouldn’t bother taping the girl up, he’d just throw her in the back of a truck and bash her head a few times so she couldn’t move. He flipped open the notebook again and found the producer, Robert Ore, written underneath “Planet of the Aces.”
“Robert Ore? No, I don’t think I ever heard of him, but I don’t know many folks in the theater biz,” Gains said. “It’s all too weird for me.”
“Well Gains, thanks for nothing. We’re done here for now, but some other folks will probably be down here tomorrow to check the scene again. Say, how do we get out of this place, anyway?”
“Take Otterbein Road all the way down to the highway,” Gains couldn’t believe someone could forget something so simple. “Just don’t drive like a moron and you’ll be fine,” he added.
After another hour, all of the detectives, officers, investigators, and whoever else was in his house were gone. It was just Gains and Rita again, and it had never felt emptier. He didn’t think about this long; instead he picked out a phone book for Columbus County. It was two years outdated, but he didn’t anticipate too many changes. Midwest Productions was not in this phone book, but Robert Ore was.

Who is Robert Ore?

Gains remembered Robert Ore from many years ago. He lived two houses down on windy Otterbein Road with his wife, Julie, and his son Johnny. Robert Ore was just about as stupid as Gains when it came to making money. Ore tried to raise chinchillas for their fur one year. He kept all of their cages and food in the basement and when winter came, Ore forgot about the little rats and they all froze solid.
There was no doubt that the police would soon research Robert Ore, find the connection between him and Gains, and be on his porch again. In order to stop Graham from finding some bogus reason to take Gains away from his house and Rita, he had to figure out what happened to Tina Stark. He dialed the number and waited for the answering machine. He didn’t have one himself, but he recognized how valuable they were for his situation at present.
“Hello Mr. Ore, this is Jim Lemmon with the Columbus Times. I am doing a story on Ms. Tina Stark and her presence in the community, but couldn’t reach her for an interview. I was hoping I could speak to you about your play and Ms. Stark’s position in it,” Gains left his phone number and hung up the old yellowed receiver. He didn’t worry about Robert Ore recognizing his voice or his number, only that the area code might seem suspicious.
Ore called later, thrilled that his name could be in the paper. From his excitement, Gains could tell that Robert did not think about the strange phone number, and didn’t know about Tina Stark’s death. He gave a synopsis of the new play, which Gains fitfully endured, and then mentioned that he had worked with Tina before now.
“She was in one of your earlier plays?” Gains asked.
“Oh yes, Mr. Lemmon, she was in “Knights at Sea,” “Babes in Brass,” and—”
“—How long as Ms. Stark been working with you?” Gains interrupted.
“Oh she has been back and forth between LA and Columbus ever since her television show was cancelled. She was here for some funeral of some obscure relative of some kind, who I had also known, and I recognized her from her show! Then I approached her and…” Robert Ore continued for another few minutes of the whole enchanting story. Gains was picking at the tiny pieces of lint on his shirt, occasionally adding an empty remark. This guy had changed since he moved away from Rushville.
“Well that’s a really great story, Mr. Ore. I was not aware of Ms. Stark’s other roles,” Gains said dully. “I heard a rumor that she was coming for an audition tomorrow. You know Tina, do you think she would be fine if I came for an interview?”
“Oh! She would be thrilled! She is very feisty, though. I should know!”
“Oh?”
“Well, uh,” Robert struggled for words. “Since her show was cancelled, she has gotten a little…well, desperate for work. I am sure she can get back on her feet, though, and Midwest Productions is going to do it for her!” He had regained his confidence again.
Gains said thank you as stupidly as he imagined some newspaper reporter would, and hung up the phone. If he went to Columbus tomorrow, Robert Ore will probably already have been informed of Stark’s death. Also, Ore wasn’t so stupid as to not recognize Darren Gains. Even though these two things would complicate things, Gains was sure that Ore had something to do with Tina ending up on his farm. From the way Ore talked about her, it sounded as if he knew her pretty well.
The next day, Gains packed his Columbus phone book, a sandwich, and his shotgun into his Rav-4 and started north. The radio signals cut in and out until he reached some highway that had official road signs. The drive is about an hour long, and there is no such word as traffic in the area—even in Columbus. When he was very close to Columbus, he began having second thoughts. I’m too old for any of this. I should just go back home to Rita and watch TV until I die. It wouldn’t take too long, he thought. Gains pushed these thoughts away; he was already in the city already. He figured he might as well give it a shot.

Columbus at last

Columbus is a big city for Ohio, but only big enough to fool the people living in it. There are lots of shops and strip malls, but mostly there are suburbs of small houses with pointy rooftops. Gains used to live in Columbus with his family until he was dazzled by the talk of owning farmland. He had grown so accustomed to Rushville and its vast space, run-down houses, and abandoned barns that he hardly recognized Columbus any longer. He only knew the airport, which was the closest one from his little house.
Gains pulled into a gas station and walked into the phone booth and pulled up their recent phone book. He found the address to Midwest Productions, and was surprised to find that he knew the location. He drove to the little building and parked on the other side of the lot. Gains had decided on the drive that he would avoid seeing Ore at all. He found a side door that was propped open. He casually walked past the door and looked inside. There was a hallway which had a large window that had open blinds on the inside. There were small posters for the awful plays that Ore had told him about when he was the newspaper worker. It was Robert Ore’s office, and it looked empty at the moment.
Gains didn’t waste time. Once he was done looking, he walked straight through the door and into the office, walking with purpose. If anyone had seen him, he looked like he belonged. There was a large mahogany box for a desk with papers strewn over the top. Phone numbers written on Post-its and pieces of the script from “Planet of the Apes.” How could someone conceivably make it a musical? The drawers on the other side had little in them, and especially nothing useful. He shifted the papers until he found an envelope with “Tina Stark” written on the front. Gains pocketed the envelope in his jacket, and pushed “Play” on Ore’s answering machine. There was a message from some prospective actor that was a big fan, Ore’s son, Johnny, asking for money to buy something Gains didn’t understand, and Detective Graham asking Ore to call him back. Gains quickly deleted the message from Graham, and noted the phone number of the Midwest Productions off of Ore’s cheaply made business cards. He was walking back down the hallway again when a woman saw him and asked what he was doing here.
“Oh, hi. How are you?” Gains stalled, “I’m an old, old friend of Robert’s, and I didn’t want to bother him, but I was just dropping off an envelope for him about some people we knew way back.”
“Oh! How great of you to bring that by! No, Mr. Ore isn’t in the office right now, he is holding auditions for his new play at the theatre down the street. I’ll let him know you came by, Mr.…”
“Oh no, miss, it’s actually not the best news, I’d rather leave him alone with it, if you don’t mind.”
The woman gave a shrug and Gains backed out of the open door. As he walked back to his car, he tore open the envelope for Tina. There was a note inside with a combination under “A75.” Some kind of locker, probably. Gains decided to check out the old theatre where Ore was being stood up by Tina Stark.

to the theater!!!

The theater was just down the street, like the secretary had told him, so Gains walked and went through a back door. There were piles of wooden props, canvas flats that were twenty feet tall, bizarre hats, and shiny coins. Gains was backstage and he could hear Ore in the front auditorium directing someone for their audition. Gains walked over the props until he found a hallway at the very back of the theatre. It was lined with large lockers and closets. He found locker A75 and turned the lock to the correct combination: 2-24-8. The locker was almost empty. There was a bar in the middle to hang things—costumes, no doubt. At the top was a small cubby where there was a small pile of paper. The script for the play was there, along with some mail that Tina Stark had sent to the theatre (all junk mail), and another note. This one was in cramped tiny handwriting and it was dated the day before he found Tina on his land.
“Julie will be out of town tomorrow, same time & place?”
Gains stood and thought for a moment before he pocketed the note and picked up the script. Stark had highlighted some lines from the leading woman role. All in all, the musical seemed pretty pathetic and hokey, but Gains expected as much from Robert Ore. He probably bought the cheapest script he could find. The sad thing was that the people of Columbus probably thought they were more cultured for going to see Ore’s plays. On one page there was a heart-shaped pink Post-It note that was cryptic, but it had to be very useful somehow:
10/7 8:30PM
Java to Go
253 Holly Dr.
Will be wearing black skirt, purple sweater!

It looked to be a meeting with someone the day before Tina had died. A meeting with a woman or a man wearing a black skirt and a purple sweater. Gains wasn’t sure what had happened to Tina Stark, but he felt like he was closer.
He started to think that auditions were over because he couldn’t hear the echoed singing coming from the stage or Ore’s directing from the seats below. This meant it was his cue to get out. Gains hurried back over the props and out the door and into the blinding sun. He walked back to his car and sat inside with the engine running for a few minutes. Someone met with Stark the day before she died.

Where will he go now?

Since Robert Ore’s phone number was the right one according to Gains’ old phone book, the address that went with the number was also correct. Gains pulled up to a small white house with a bright orange-brown roof, a grey pathway, and a round white rock with the address on it. There was a dirty Land Rover in the narrow driveway with “OU MOM” as the license plate. Ohio University. This must have had something to do with Robert’s son, Johnny. Gains hadn’t seen him since he was ten years old playing with slot cars in his yard. The license plate must have been old—Johnny was probably in his thirties by now. In the back of the Land Rover there was a large flashlight and side-of-the-road kit, along with a flowery overnight bag stuffed full. Somebody’s receipt from a cheap motel in Fairfield county, which is Gains’ county, were in the front seat. How careless, thought Gains.
He didn’t want to stay and chat, so he climbed back into his car and began driving down the road. He didn’t get ten yards away from the Ore house when a police car driving on the opposite side of the road passed him and pulled up to the Ore house. Then two more. Gains pulled to the side of the road and killed the engine. He took out his sandwich and adjusted his mirrors to get a look at the house. Two officers went inside while two others wandered around outside. He wondered if Detective Graham was nearby.
Fifteen minutes later, the two men left the house and they all drove back in the direction they had come. Gains watched them leave as he finished his sandwich. He slowly pulled out the note he had found in Tina Stark’s locker, “Julie will be out of town tomorrow…” It was starting to come together for him.
Gains drove home wearily. He was old and tired, and he needed a drink. He stopped by the Red Mill and drank a few beers and watched the news with Marty the bartender. When he got home he expected another stupid important business card from Det. Graham but there was no sign that anyone had been there today. Maybe they were in Columbus after all.

The reveal

Two days later, Gains was in town to pick up some of his essentials. He picked up the Auto Trader, a community newspaper, some lactose-free milk, and WD-40. He was reading the Auto Trader in his car at the gas station later while his car filled up when an article headline from the Rushville Times, the local paper, caught his eye. “Former Rushville resident arrested for murder,” along with a glamour shot of Tina Stark. She looked much better in this photo than when Gains had met her.
“Columbus Police Department arrested Robert Ore, a former Rushville citizen, for the murder of former television star Tina Stark. He was held in Columbus County Jail when he was extradited to Fairfield County yesterday where the murder is believed to have been carried out. No details of the crime were given; the department will issue a statement on Thursday. Tina Stark was (continued on page 3)”
Gains sighed, put the newspaper down and took the gas nozzle out of the car. He drove home, put his milk away and his Auto Trader by the television and got back in the Rav-4. The Fairfield County jail was not far from his house. It was similar to jails in the Old West movies with cold, iron bars. Ore looked miserable.
“Gains?”
“Hey, Robert. How’s life?” Even though Gains thought Robert Ore was a waste of space, he didn’t like seeing him like this. He didn’t answer him, but Gains figured that Robert knew the magnitude of the situation by now. “I’m pretty set with most of the details, Robert, but how did she do it? How did Julie blame you?”
“She was restless, Darren. She needed hobbies or some activities for her to keep her busy. Maybe she should have gone back to school, I don’t know. She was falling apart,” Robert’s voice cracked. “They found a knife…” He trailed off.
Gains knew that if Robert Ore’s wife had needed some kind of therapy, Ore wouldn’t know how to deal with it. He would probably have ignored it. “What about the motel? She stayed here!”
“It’s under a different name, no one at the motel remembers her, she must have done something, maybe used Tina, I don’t know. She was so angry all the time, angry for things that aren’t worth being angry over. Some of it’s my fault, she was awful jealous.”
“Jealous of who?”
“Of Tina, falling all over me because I could offer her a job. I was tempted, but I knew I can’t pay alimony or anything like that, so I can’t screw it up!”
“Why did she pick my farm? Why there?”
“Geez, Gains, I hardly know. She went on about you for years after we moved to Columbus, going on about how you screwed up Johnny or something. After a while I think she forgot about you, but if she was angry at all of it. All of the past. If she had decided to come here, she probably would go back to Otterbein and just figured you’d never find Tina on your mangled wasteland. That’s what she always called it.”
Gains paused and thought about this. If he were an irrational person, that just about makes sense. “Good luck in court, Robert.”
* * *
Weeks went by and Gains heard nothing new about Tina Stark, Robert Ore, or Julie Ore. Gains was slightly irritated that he had no apology or any compensation for herds of people tramping around his property, but now life was back to normal. Gains was shaking fish flakes into Rita’s bowl as he got his coat on to go to the Red Mill for another night away from home. It was one of the few things he did anymore.
“I’ll be home late, Rita. Don’t wait up.”
The Red Mill was almost empty, as usual. Marty the bartender was filling a chilled mug before Gains even sat down on the soft green stool at the bar.
“Thanks Marty.”
“Hey, Darren. You hear about that guy they have down at the jail right now? Some kind of play producer?”
“Yeah, I knew him when he lived here. Robert Ore.”
“That’s what I was going to ask you. Robert Ore? Yeah, they mention him in this newspaper article right here.”
Marty the bartender pushed a Columbus Times toward Darren and he read about a car crash that had a tiny mug shot of Robert Ore in it. There was a six-car pile-up on the highway just outside of Columbus. None dead, three critically injured. Among them was Julie Ore, who may be paralyzed from the waist down. It went on to explain that Julie had currently been working with lawyers for her husband, who was in Fairfield County Jail for the murder of Tina Stark. Police were pursuing other leads they had in the case due to some more evidence that turned up, the article explained.
Gains laughed, finished his beer, and went home early to watch TV with Rita.

Story to follow...

Also, as Tim and Allison already know, I had to write a detective story for my detective fiction class final. It's finished, it just needs editing and a title. It's 8 pages long, and a pretty lame one, but it was for a pass/fail class so I didn't put too much effort into it. I will, because of Tim's request, post it piece by piece on this blog once it is edited. It's too bad that the blog posts from top to bottom, maybe I'll just post it all at once. Any preference?

Tests, Cars, Bugs, and Puzzles

It's finals week now, I have one left tomorrow and Billy still has one he's working on (a take-home final).
Our car broke, the power steering fluid is leaking a bunch and so now it's at a shop and Billy has to take the bus tomorrow to go pick it up, hopefully. We're planning on leaving to San Jose soon, and then the car breaks. We thought it would be Thursday night after my final, but Billy might not be done with his yet and the car might be gay and not fixed. It might be on Friday. I'm sad that our car broke so we're thinking about selling it and getting a little Honda, Toyota, or something else that's Japanese and not stupid American junk. Also, we want nice gas mileage for once and less mileage than we have currently. The only problem is we have to deal with selling this car and then hopefully find another one afterward. This will all probably happen after this summer because summer is not a good time for large transactions. Yeah.
In other news, our apartment is super cool. I know I've said that before, but it really is. We find spiders a lot, but that's about it. We see cool animals around the complex. Raccoons, squirrels, skunks (actually, they're all over campus, too, and they're REALLY cute when they're not threatened :) they waddle) and we found this super awesome beetle that was about an inch from head to end and maybe a half-inch wide. It was white and grey striped and he had little feathery feelers and he flew and made weird noises. We passed him outside when we were coming home late one night and Billy thought it was so awesome he said, "I'm going inside, getting a Ziploc bag and coming back and catching that!"
He caught it and we brought it to our friends at the Institute the next day to show them and everyone thought he was really neat, except the CES missionary sister...she wasn't too happy that Billy brought the bug into Institute class. I took a picture of the bug, but it's on my phone.
Also, during procrastination week, I mean finals week, I pulled out a 1000 piece puzzle at the Institute and TOTALLY FINISHED IT with just a few other people working on it, but really mostly me. I also have a picture of that on my phone with my hand giving a thumbs up.