#podcasttranscript

DISCLAIMER: During the show, there are sounds and background noise playing as if to seem like you are actually there. This is what goes inside his brain, almost like he is talking to himself. The parts in “” are what he or other people say out loud. Also, I apologize for the spelling of names.

DANE: [Snoring]

RADIO: [Starts and plays opera] [High pitched note]

DANE: “Uh! Okay. Okay Okay. I’m up, I’m up... 12. 12. It’s 12. 12 am…”

RADIO:[Clapping and women saying ‘thank you. Thank you’]

DANE: “Fuck.” I’m half hanging off my bed, sheets twisted in my legs, pillows on the floor. Hand on my face.

MAN ON RADIO: “That was ‘The Mint Apple’ music by Francois Gearde. Preformed there by Allison Balvinbalm at the Cleveland Moriarity last Sunday evening. Ms. Bavinbalm’s offered a stunning program consisting mostly of Gearde’s songs and arias. And if you would like to hear more opera tonight, tune in later for ‘Opera Tonight’ with Brian Kettering. The news is coming up, but first a small pivan for solo piano, from French composer John Luplane.”

[Piano music starts playing]

DANE: I do not believe I did the A.M. /P.M. alarm mix-up thing. The radio alarm, which is usually news in the morning, is currently deep in its late-night classical program. Jesus, who stays up all night listening to this shit. I have to pee anyway. So I get up and I float to the bathroom in the dark. Arms out in front of me like a Macy’s Day balloon of a huge naked man, grumbling.

I pee, I flush, I shuffle back to bed. But, just before I lay down I hear something. Outside. In the front yard. Through the open window. Like a small voice. I walk over to the window. And then I jump and hide as soon as I see them. It’s the little girls from the grocery store. Standing under the street light in front of my house. Staring right up at me.

“What the fuck.”

I give it a few seconds. And then I look again. But now they are gone. I know I just saw them, they were just here. Then they reappear under another streetlight down the block, walking fast. They turn the corner and they’re gone. I go back to bed. But I feel off, something feels off. I’ve been seeing these little girls everywhere since the grocery store last weekend. They’re always ducking down allies and looking away when I look like they’re following me. I try to calm down. I try doing these breathing exercises that this boy in New York taught me.

[Inhaling] “One two three. Dollars in the bank.”[Exhaling]

[Inhaling] “One two three. Dollars in the bank.”[Exhaling]

It doesn’t seem to be working. I pull the covers up to my chin like I haven’t done since I was a kid.

MAN ON THE RADIO: “We just heard a lovely, if a bit meandering, pivan by John Luplane. Now it’s time for the news.”

[News music]

“Authorities have their first lead in the search for a plane that went missing over Lake Erie last weekend. Species of scavenger fish have been reported in the north-central part of the lake and could indicate the possible presence of large carcasses in the water, according to officials. In other news, Judge Elizabeth Gardner is set to rule on the controversial case of Zoe the Zebra sometime in the following week. The zebra is being quarantined and faces mandatory euthanization after an incident resulting in the death of 12-year-old Ian Harris last summer. Eli Critch, director of the zoo, declined to comment on the Zoe controversy, but instead flashing his infamous smile at reporters and said ‘Love is timeless. We’ll see you next spring for the new exhibit, The Forgotten Sea.’”

DANE: “How do you forget a whole sea?”

MAN ON RADIO: “And later this week we are turning to the garden center outside of the Lawsers-[fades into background]”

DANE: I’m starting to calm down. And I’m hot so I pull the covers down to a normal adult place. And close my eyes.

MAN ON RADIO: “-and call the station and give us your best impersonation of an orchid. What does an orchid sound like? Hm? Boohoo Bree pp [continues making noises in the background]”

DANE: And this guy’s voice is actually relaxing.

MAN ON RADIO: “Buhhhhhh. You know, I don’t know. Who knows. Anyway, the weather. Feels like there is definitely something blowing in off the lake. Currently 66 degrees and blustery. Chance of rain in the early morning hours. It’s just after midnight and this is 897 Classical Cleveland. Which must mean, I’m Dan Rudelstein. Welcome.

Next up we have a real piece of musical esertaria for you. Now most of you are probably familiar with ‘Hale to the Chief’, the official fanfare that plays whenever the United States president enters a room or formal function. But there are other less known and seldom heard pieces of music associated with the U.S. presidency. Take for example, the Inaugural Waltz. Now, the first Inaugural Waltz was composed in 1809 for the inauguration of James Madison and was danced by James and his wife, Dolly, at the ball. And it was such a hit, everybody loved so much they said we need to have one for every inauguration. So a new waltz was commissioned, composed, and dance at every inauguration all the way up until 1933, when F.D.R. did away with the tradition of dancing the waltz. Calling it a quote ‘thick ritual for thin times.’ Now, the waltz did not go quietly into the night, no [laughs]. Instead it went underground and remained a vital part of the ceremonial fabric of the inauguration. A new waltz still being commissioned and composed for every president all the way up through present day. However, most of this music has never been heard, until now. In a fabulous new recording entitled ‘Undanced’. Some of this music finally gets it debut. So, without further ado, here is the United States Marine band, augmented by the United States Marine Chamber Orchestra under the baton of Lieutenant Colonel James K. Montoc with ‘Dance of the Honey Wasp.’ The official inaugural waltz of President Ronald and first lady Nancy Reagan.” [Music starts playing]

DANE: I know he just it didn’t happen but I can’t help but picture it. A dark ballroom. A circle pf stoned faced dignitaries standing around. Ronald on one side, Nancy on the other. Slowly they approach a spotlight in the middle of a big dancefloor. They grab onto each other and lean in and say something in their nasty secret little language. Then they smile. Take a breath. And start waltzing.

RADIO: [Waltz starts]

DANE: Ugh. As they spin, his joules come out like wings like gross flesh wings. Ugh. I’m getting sick just thinking about it. Them spinning around and around and around. And around.

RADIO: [Music continues to play then turns ominous at around 9:24]

DANE: I’m back in the dream. Totally submerged in that dark water. Hanging. Swaying. And then the cold on my legs again. And again I try to get away. Swimming harder and harder until I’m thrashing and I open my mouth to scream. And nothing. Everything is dark and still for what seems like a really long time. And then, a light. Soft but growing coming from everywhere. Like dawn. And the water goes from black to cloudy green all around me. Except for some of the water stays black. The water below me. A shadow. And then it moves like a wall. It slides away into the green murk in front of me and I watch the spot where it disappeared. I keep watching. Waiting. And then I see its face come out of the green. It’s so big it’s-it’s the size of a front of a school bus. It stops. Like 20 feet from me. Like it’s looking at me. But its eyes look dead. Black with bony circles around them. And its jaws are, lust huge jagged bone blades that don’t quite fit together all the way. They are hanging half open. All of a sudden they start to move. They start opening. And I feel the water around me start to flow towards the mouth. No. No. NO. And the mouth is opening wider and wider and I try to get away. [Gasp and music returns to background]

I turn off the radio. I sit up in bed. I throw off the covers. I’m in the guest bedroom at Emily’s house. I look down. My dick is so hard it’s throbbing. My belly is wet with pre-cum. A breeze from the open window makes it feel instantly cold. The open window. I remember the girl scouts and get creeped out all over again. My eyes fall on a rectangle of warm light on the bedroom wall. The house next to Emily’s is empty, it’s been on the market for months now, ever since I got here and the realtor comes everyday almost to show it and I see him come and go. But when he leaves he leaves lights on inside the house. I guess to deter break-ins at night. Anyway, since there are no curtains on the windows these lights cast rectangles of warm light all over, all around the house. On the lawn, on the side of Emily’s house, and one in my bedroom. I’m looking at it right now, trying not to think of those girl scouts, when all of a sudden it vanishes. Like it had never been there at all. Leaving perfectly blue wall. Blue as a whale dream. And then it starts. The thrum thrum thrum of blood in my neck and the physical arrival of a question. I can feel it in my gut. Why did the light go out? Now there are plenty of perfectly reasonable explanations of why the light went out but for some reason my brain is only interested in the terrifying ones, the unreasonable ones. I have to look. I get out of bed, I start walking to my window but a chilling thought occurs me just before I get there, what if there is someone or something in the empty house? It could see me If I’m next to my window. So I jump on my bed and army roll across it and I land on the floor on the other side in the dark. And I walk until the window of the empty house comes into view through my window. I try to squint into it. Try to see into the blackness beyond the reflection of the streetlight but I can’t. And then, another light, from the side. It’s the motion light from behind the house. And then another question, what’s moving in the backyard? So I put on shorts and I go downstairs. I can hear the old house moving all around me, groaning like I woke it up. And I get into the kitchen and that motion light is blaring through all of the windows and it’s coming through the crack and the backdoor, it’s like ‘Close Encounters’ of the third kind down there and I walk up to the backdoor and I look out the window and I try to peek over the privacy fence into the yard of the empty house next door but I can’t see over the privacy fence. I mean it’s a privacy fence. I’m gonna have to go outside. So I take a breath and I open the door and I step out onto the porch. It’s cold. I can see my breath. I walk to the edge of the porch and I look over the privacy fence into the backyard of the empty house. Nothing. Just the driveway of the empty house. A long satin grey loaf that runs all the way down to the street. And the new sod of the backyard, green. Half of the backyard is in shadow. And just then the motion light clicks off. And it’s like everything relaxes. And slowly my yes just starts to adjust and the nighttime starts to give me things back and that faint blue outline stuff, there’s like a hose spool in the backyard. And the electric meter on the side of the house and then a pair of large eyes. I find them already watching me. And then antlers come into view above the eyes. And something about our eyes connecting must have engendered and ultimatum in the buck because it straightens up and looks at me for just a second before it takes off and dashes down the drive way. And the motion light comes on and splashes its warm hide in my eyes for just a second before it’s gone. I watch it disappear Run into the street. And everything is quiet except for the hum of the motion light. And then the flick of a lighter. I instinctively hunch down. A small orange ember appears on the back porch of the empty house. It floats towards the edge, until a young man comes into view. He is young but his skin is covered in what look like tattoos. He takes a hit of his cigarette and leans out into the light and looks down the driveway to where the buck disappeared. And then he turns and his eyes meet mine.

“Fuck.”

He lets the hit go until the smoke obscures his face and when the smoke clears his eyes have moved on. I don’t think he saw me. He’s looking over his shoulder, scanning the dark yards. And then he takes his cigarette and he puts it in his lips and holds it there in that way that smokers do where they sorta purse their lips. And his hands goes down to his pants. He undoes his button, his zipper, puts one thumb in the elastic of his underwear and pulls down until his dick flops over and hangs there. My eyes swallow it. It’s big and floppy and it has one long view that zig zags through it like a river. And the foreskin ruffed and folds around the head, it looks like the collar of ancient royalty. It’s lit dramatically by the motion light on the garage, it’s like a diva getting ready for her aria. I see his checks suck in as he pulls in on his cigarette. The ember brightens. My eyes widen. Her music starts. And then the motion light clicks off. And the slat sound of piss hitting new sod. Then after a few second the cigarette is a shooting star, explodes on the driveway. And then I hear the screen door on the empty house shut and I’m left alone, in the dark. Piss steam and cigarette smoke drifting towards me and I feel like a young boy after his first magic show.

I go back inside and I go back upstairs. Call it a hunch but I get my phone out and I re-download Grindr. I sign in with my email and my password, it takes like 10 seconds and I’m back on the grid. And sure enough, right next to me is a blank profile, 20 feet away. I click on it. It expands. No age, 5’8”, 130lbs, right now. And then the sounds. Brrip.

NO NAME: “Hey.”

DANE: “Hey.”

NO NAME: “Big buck, huh?”

DANE: “Yeah it was.”

NO NAME: “Are there a lot around here?”

DANE: “Yeah they like the lake.”

NO NAME: “What lake?”

DANE: “Um, Lake Erie. It’s one of the Great Lakes.”

NO NAME: “LOL, you’re funny. More pics?”

DANE: The headlights of a car swing through my window and I hear the unmistakable sound of tires on driveway grid. I get up and look. An SUV is parked in the driveway of the empty house next door. A man gets out. It’s the realtor.

Brrip

NO NAME: “I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon. I’m Luke by the way.”

DANE: Luke. Luke? This is Luke from the cake box? The realtor goes into the house. The lights that were on inside the house turn off one by one. I see two shadows move on each other, their legs tangling. They spill into another dark room and I lose them for a minute. I get closer to my window and I wait. And when they reappear, their forms are defined by the dim glow of streetlight. Luke is naked and bent over. The realtor is behind him, still wearing his shirt and loosen tie and there is rhythm to their movement. Soft lion's flexing with each other. I feel myself getting hard in my shorts. The realtor quickens and Luke’s eyes close tight. His jaw falls open a little more with each thrust. I start touching myself. Luke steadies himself with an arm on the window ledge. The realtor reaches around and puts his fingers in Luke’s mouth.

“Fuck this is hot.”

I’m rubbing my dick through my shorts. The realtor runs his other hand up Luke’s back, threads it through his blonde hair, makes a fit and pulls Luke’s head back hard. His eyes swing up towards me in the window and I see him see me. My hand on my dick. And then he smiles wide. As much as a person can smile with fingers in their mouth. So I slide my shorts off and get closer to the window so he can see all of me. My dick is rock hard now and I start jerking off. Faster and faster. And realtor is drumming away on his own holy agenda and completely unaware of me. But Luke eyes are locked on my dick and the realtor’s rhythm reaches a climax and his drumming turns into this sort of twitching. [Breathing hard] And I feel myself build and build and let go and I hear it hit the window. And I double over. When I look up they are gone and my cum is running like slow milk down the pane. After a little bit I see them reappear in another window, in the kitchen of the empty house. The realtor dressed, tightening his tie. Luke is still naked. They are facing each other. And then a flash of movement. The realtor pulls his hand back and punches Luke hard in the face. Luke spins and falls back down out of view and the realtor turns quickly and leaves. I see his legs rushing through the dark house. I back away from my window. My heart starts pounding. I hear a car door and then an engine and then the lights swing back through my room the way they came.

“What do I do?”

I peak out again. I look down at the kitchen window. Nothing. He still hasn’t gotten up. So I put on jeans and a hoodie and shoes and I go downstairs. And I go out my front door and I cross the lawns and the driveway. And u on the porch of the other house. I try the handle. It’s open. I go inside.

“Hello?”

Nothing. I make my way to the back, to the kitchen. Just around the corner, I see him. Luke. Laying there naked on the kitchen floor. Bloody. His face is young, gorgeous. And his dick is rock hard. Bobbing. And what looked like tattoos before are actually bruises. All over his body. Like little storms. I lean down and I shake him. he comes to.

LUKE: [Inhales]

DANE: his eyes widen when he sees my face. He looks down at his bare chest and fingers the red pooling in his collarbone.

“Hey. Hey, don’t worry, it looks a lot worse than it is.”

LUKE: “Great. Take a picture.”

DANE: He hands me his phone and I reach out to take it but we both just hold onto it and stare at each other. And my stomach feels weird like it wants to crawl out of my mouth. But in a good way?

SONG:

That sound could be the sound of laughing

Not the cold October wind

Maybe this feeling is the beginning

And not the end

And this cold autumn day could be the first day of spring

Any moment the songbirds could start

And I could find someone beside me

In the dark

In the dark

DANE: The milky way galaxy. Planet Earth. Cleveland, Ohio. Twelve-year-old Esmerelda looks out the window of her father single-engine airplane.

All of Cleveland is rolling underneath her. The trees look just like broccoli, she thinks. And the lake looks like one of her mom’s silver plates and it’s getting bigger in her eyes. And she smiles.

Now, little Esmerelda doesn’t know this probably, but a hundred years ago or so her great great grandfather John Stonefall, the oil tycoon, bought all the land currently rolling under her for a suspiciously small sum. But rather than build on the land like everyone expected, he instead had it all dug up. Leaving mounds of dirt everywhere, much to the chagrin of the locals. Petitions were signed, ladies groups had lunches. Finally, as a compromise, Stonefall filled most of the holes, built a summer home on a small piece of the land, and donated the rest of the city of Cleveland for parks.

The Stonefalls ended up liking it in Cleveland. Despite the controversy, they were happy there and they breed like rabbits becoming more and more cousins with cleaner and cleaner money. And that money eventually thinned and settled, becoming locked up in foundations, orchestras, zoos. Many of these cousins left Cleveland, but a few stayed. Their lives buoyed by the steady pumping of old trusts.

And it was one of these cousins, a guy named Roger Parring. A man made foggy from a life of never having had to know that he had never really had, who took his little daughter, Esmerelda Parring, for a ride in their single-engine airplane. Now, later on that night they will show their flight path on the news. A single red line that ends abruptly in the solid blue section at the top of the map graphic. Apparently, their engine began to malfunction as they were right over Pepper Heights and people on the news later will say they could hear it.

A sound like a saw in the sky.

But while that plane was still in the air above Pepper Heights, I didn’t hear it. I was far below, sleeping late in an old bed in my friend’s guest room. Huge white clouds were racing through the sky, making the light in my bedroom change from bright to dim to bright to dim. But I didn’t notice that either. I was deep in a dark dream.

Now, my dreams are pretty fucked up usually. Like me and my mom are astronauts and she’s floating away and I can’t do anything about it. Or like the train car I’m on is full of a thousand big, fat slow black flies landing on everybody's face and lips and they don’t notice because everyone is reading their Kindles that sort of thing. And I don’t dream about sex that often but, when I do it’s always something really awful. Like I’m at the deli and the guy behind the counter is making me fuck my cousin, Bryan, in front of a line of old ladies waiting for their hams and I can’t get hard and everybody is waiting.

Anyway, ever since I got to Cleveland I’ve been having this strange recurring dream. It always starts the same. I’m in the water. Hanging suspended and it’s deep water. And it’s dark, I can’t see anything. The water is the same temperature as my body. It feels pleasant. My hair’s just gently swaying. And then I feel a little bit of cold on my legs. And at first, I think it feels sort of nice. And then a little bit more cold and then slowly I realize, that’s something huge is moving underneath me.

I start to freak out and I start to try to get away but I can’t get anywhere. The water isn’t moving and I feel the coldness coming up more and more cold like the thing is getting closer. So I start to crash and I open my mouth to scream but the icy water rushes in. It hits the back of my throat and zooms down into my stomach. I feel it fill me up. And then it zigzags it’s way through my intestines like a cold knife and just before it gets to the back of my asshole, I wake up.

And I throw off the covers and I look down. And my dick is rock hard. Like so hard that it’s actually like bobbing up and- oh fuck I am late for work. I jump out of bed, I throw on my faded red Zenarc Corporations t-shirt and I tuck my boner into my shorts as best I can. I run downstairs and grab a pop tart and I dump a glass of water on the counter somewhere near the plants and then boom I’m out the door.

I usually walk through the neighborhood, Woodshire to York to Willowbrook to Cedar Ridge and then I cut through the woods. But not I have to run right down the main street area of Pepper Heights, Rivington Road, because I’m running late.

I get to the four-way stop and people in Ohio are way too polite for four-way stops so everyone just of sort sits there going:

“No, you go first” “Nah you go first” “No please I insist” “No please”

So I just run diagonally right across screaming. [sounds of screaming and honking cars] Now the thing about Rivington Road is that it’s a busy little street. There’s all these different kinds of food: Indian, Ethiopian, a Ramen place, a Sushi place, a Chinese food place, a toy shop, an independent bookshop, records, second-hand clothes, Peruvian imports, A head shop, a couple of bars, and even a gay bar. All in like a few blocks and it’s always crowded.  And there are so many different types of people and outside of New York, I’ve never ever seen anything like Pepper Heights. It was such a mix of people. People from every country, every income bracket. All living in the same neighborhood. It felt like some sort of lefty public tv fantasy. All these different kinds of lovely humans right here on Rivington but not a single fucking one of them knows how to walk at the right speed. “MOVE!”

I turn the corner right by the mirror store and boom. I see a truck, I almost run into it. Some sort of utility truck. It’s like parked half on the grass and half in the street. And I hear cussing coming from somewhere close.

“Cock sucker motherfucker son of a bitch”

And it sounds like it coming from above me so I look up. And there is a sort of crane coming up from the utility truck to bucket and there is a man in the bucket fiddling with the light pole but I can’t really see him because he is silhouetted by the sun but he’s just cussing up a storm. I have never heard some cuss so blatantly and out in the open and I mean this is a neighborhood. There’s like old ladies and like little kids-

[child's voice] “Move fucker!"

DANE: “Hey!”

A little girl comes out of no where she almost runs me over on her bike. Jesus. Okay, just a few more blocks. And I don’t have to run anymore I think I can just walk briskly, I don’t want to be a complete sweaty mess when I get there. And I’m only…..13 minutes late that’s not so bad. That’s close to ten minutes, it's almost ten minutes late. Okay.

I get to the side entrance, this big metal building and above the door, there is a sign that says “Zenarc Corporation: Shuttle Bay Five.” I stop for a minute. I take a breath. And then I open the big metal door. The cold air instantly hits me. The security guard gets up from his chair and blocks the hallway. He crosses his arms and stands in front of me. His eyes narrow as he demands to see my id badge.

“Really I’ve worked here for three weeks and I’m late.”

After a ridiculous amount of looking at me up and down, looking at my badge then looking back at me looking at my badge again, he lets me pass. Four more heavy metal doors and finally, I’m in the shuttle bay.

VOICE FROM OVERHEAD: “Mission Log 10182135 - Project Objective: To survey the 69 known moons of Jupiter for possible helium2 deposits. You are to report any signs of helium2 directly to your superiors at Zenarc Corporations upon debriefing. All 69 target moons are classified as lifeless but nonetheless, you are advised to keep your scanners on. Be safe and happy hunting miners.”

DANE: Okay, hold on for a second. I know what you are thinking.

Cleveland? Why Cleveland? Why did I go to Cleveland?

Well, I went to Cleveland… because I was tired. Tired in- tired in like a cosmic sense. Like a big sense. Not like a day to day tired. Not like ‘I need a nap tired’ but like ‘I need a 6-month soul nap’ tired. And my friend Emily was going to be gone for 6 weeks so she said ‘Come stay in my house, water my plants, and you can be alone’ and I thought ‘Alone. Alone time. That sounds great. What a gift to somebody who's been living in New York, especially a musician.’ So I thought ‘I’ll write an album.’ And so I went. I took my keyboard, I set it up in her living room, I turned it on, I sat on the bench and Grindr-ed. And ate my way through an Amazon shipping error of Doritos but every once in a while my free hand would reach out blindly and finger a random cord.

Grindr for some people, I think, is fun. Like they can just pop into it and then pop right back out of it whenever they’re done. But for me, I’ve never been able to stop having fun. But not in like a- not in like a ‘I’m always having fun’ kind of way. But in like a- like ‘There’s so much fun that it hurts’ kind of way. Uh, it just eats all of my time, obsessively. But after three days, I still hadn’t gotten laid and all of my white keys were orange. So I deleted Grindr again, and started looking for a job. But after literally walking into a mirror while dropping off my application at the American Apparel and being given what I thought was a rather gosh but nonetheless classic runaround by the assistant manager at the Chipotle, I was running out of options within walking distance. But I finally scored a late season job working at this tiny little neighborhood amusement park. It’s called the Pepper Heights Zoo. This place has been a risk free tax haven since before plastic was invented. It was like a nursing home for the old oil money and the zoo part was a motley collection of creatures gotten cheap for various reasons. But the most popular attraction by far, the animal on all the lunch boxes, the star, was an elderly zebra named Zoe.

Now, I don’t have any experience with animals myself so they gave me a job as a ride attendant on one of the few rides. This large indoor roller coaster called ‘Jupiter’s Lifeless Moons.’ It was right next to Zoe’s exhibit. Everyone just referred to it as ‘The Moons.’ It was a pretty tame ride actually, with a rider minimum height of only 48 inches. 44 if you had an adult. The whole idea was that it was a space shuttle that took space prospectors out to the moons of Jupiter to look for helium2 deposits. My job as an employee of the fake space prospecting company, the Zenarc Corporation, was to unload the kids, instruct them them to report any helium2 deposits during their debriefing in the next room and I had to use my most official sounding voice. And the park did a pretty good job making it all seem spacey and fun, there were flashing lights and space props. And in line, you heard a robot voice saying the mission objective on loop.

[Overhead voice plays again]

There was even, like, space adventure music playing from hidden speakers during the ride itself. That was the cool thing about the Pepper Heights Zoo. They piped in music all over the park like specifically made for the park. A lot of it was recorded years ago by these three ladies. They were sisters. The sherggeburg- the something sisters. I- I don’t know but you can buy their CD in the gift shop.

[Music fades in]

Dreamboy

Dreamboy

You’re my only dream boy

Dreamboy

Dreamboy

You’re my only dream boy

Dream fade into the night

But rather than die away

Why don’t you stay

Dreamboy

Dreamboy

You’re my only dream

Dream

[Music end]

But they also recorded a theme song for Zoe

[Upbeat(Kind of crazy) music starts]

[Sisters laughing]

Zoe, Zoe

The most amazing zebra

Zoe, Zoe

She’s our favorite friend!

La la la la..

[Music fades to background]

And since the ride shares it’s huge metal building with part of Zoe’s exhibit I did have to listen to that on loop for my entire shift. Other than that it was a pretty easy gig though, I just had to stand behind my podium and say my one line into this rank microphone that jesus smelled like a hundred summer’s worth of spit.

“Attention all miners aboard Shuttle Five. Please report your helium2 findings in the debriefing room.”

The lap bars clank open and the kids scramble out. They all run into the next room, the debriefing room but one girl lags behind. She stands there beside the track. I realise slowly that I recognize her. She has ridden the ride several times this week and she’s dressed like a Catholic school or-or I don’t know what I think they dress like. The lap bars slam down automatically on the coaster behind her but she doesn’t jump. The empty car disappears into the dark tunnel to pick up another batch of kids in the next room, leaving us alone.

“Are you okay?”

GIRL: “I’m perfectly fine.”

DANE: “O-Okay. Um, you need to report to debriefing.”

GIRL: “Please. I’m nearly 60 inches tall.

DANE: “O-oh um…”

GIRL: “I know it’s all pretend.”

DANE: “Okay, well you still have to leave before the shuttle comes back though okay?”

GIRL: “I know. I just thought I’d wait till they clear out a little. The other kids.”

DANE: She nodded towards the debriefing room but she wasn’t really looking at it. She wasn't looking at me either and she spoke like a small adult.from the 1960’s in that creepy way that kids who are raised by their grandparents sound. Her eyes settle on a far door. I instinctively step out from behind podium. Then another door opens and a man enters. He walks quickly towards me. His nice suit makes him look completely out of place but he stops when he notices the little girl.

MAN: “Oh! Hello there!”

DANE: He winks at me as he walks over to her and bends down to her eye level.

MAN: “So, tell me. Do you have any helium deposits to report?”

DANE: She says nothing. She just glares at him. It’s the kind of glare that stays anchored on his face as she walks around him and disappears into the debriefing room behind him.

MAN: “Awww. That’s a great age.”

DANE: This man is Eli Critch, the director of the Pepper Heights Zoo.

ELI: “Hello Dwayne.”

DANE: “It’s um..it’s Dane, actually.”

ELI: “Oh yes of course. I’m sorry, Dane. Dane. Dane. Dane. Dane.Dane. Dane. Dane. Dane. Dane. Dane. Dane. Dane. Dane. I knew that! Dane. Dane. How are you liking it over here at the moons?”

DANE: “Um, it’s fine.”

Somewhere else in the building the old roller coaster car makes a turn and the whole building responds with a soft metallic groan.

[Kind of a aggressive groan from the building]

ELI: “Okay. Well, I just wanted to give you an updated set of keys. Changed the locks last night. Can’t be too careful. What with the current...rigamarole situation.”

DANE: He sets a key ring on the podium. Two shiny new keys on it.

ELI: “That’s the broom closet, that’s the front of the ride and that should do ya’”

DANE: Then he smiles and there is an awkward moment where he is just smiling at me. And then the smile turns off like a neon sign and he walks away. But he stops short in the middle of the Shuttle Bay and turns back around. That green shuttle approaching light flashing on his nice suit.

ELI: “Oh, indeed. You do know that door leads to Zoe’s night time enclosure, yes?”

DANE: He points at the far door. I nod slowly.

[music change to softs casual music]

Now I’ve always loved the grocery store at night. Like a 24-hour grocery store is like my church. And it’s mostly because there are no people, yeah sure but, also because everything has been restocked and straightened and it’s perfectly neat. There’s just row upon row of brightly colored boxes with little cartoon faces all peeking out the same way. And I think it’s because everything is so neat and there are no people moving around and there’s this bouncy music playing, that if you look for it you can really glimpse the shape of a terrible screaming skull behind the gorgeous face that the grocery store. And it hits you. You are standing in a warehouse of death. A plant and animal morgue.

Tonight I want a pie. But the bakery section of the store is dark. Like the lights were out in just that corner and also the pie case, I know exactly where it’s at, I can see it from here, but it has a shorted light tonight. And it’s blinking randomly. Giving the whole bakery section sorta bad part of town feel. Now… I’m maybe a bad boy, maybe not a bad boy, depends on who you ask, but I’m certainly not afraid of the dark and I mean… sort of a rebel. I even have the cart with a squeaky wheel. So, I like squeak right over to that bakery section.

CART: “Squeaky. Squeaky. Squeaky. Squeaky. Squeaky. Squeaky. Squeak.”

Dane: And as soon as I cross the threshold, I see them. Sitting in shadow. Three little girls. Girl Scouts maybe, behind a table. About 12 years old, give or take. They had doll eyes. Over thin smiles.

GIRL: “Good morning.”

DANE: “Oh! Go-But it’s just after midnight.”

GIRL: “Technically morning.”

DANE: “Oh. That’s uh… That’s pretty by the book.”

GIRL 2: “There are enough lies.”

DANE: They’re all wearing matching uniforms? And they all have different patches and I recognize the one girl from the ride easier. It’s the girl that lagged behind and she recognizes me. And the other two are twins but with, different hair.

“Uh… Are you selling something?”

DANE: “Don’t?- Oh! Uh. Oh, so you don’t have like cookies. Or uh, anything. I just thought y’know, bakery section, um girl scouts, that maybe you had-”

GIRL 3: “We are not affiliated with The Girl Scouts of America.”

DANE: I reach into my pocket and thought ‘I’ll just give them a dollar and be on-

GIRL: “Minimum donation is three dollars, for the pamphlet.”

DANE: “But that’s called selling something… What’s-What’s the pamphlet about?”

They hold up a small paper book. The title elegantly printed in dark blue ink on cream colored card stock. It reads:

‘Friends Till the End: Advocating for Animals’

“What are you raising money for, anyway?”

GIRL: “Zoe.”

DANE: “Zoe.”

GIRL: “The zebra. We are raising money to save her. Apparently, the zoo is too broke to do anything about it. Even though they seem to have plenty of money for that stupid new exhibit.”

GIRL 2: “The Forgotten Sea.”

GIRL: “It’s stupid! How do you forget a whole sea! You work there don’t you.”

DANE: “Yeah. Part-time.”

[bubbly music fades out and is replaced with ominous music]

Walking home I couldn’t stop thinking of how that little girl said the word ‘zebra’. Zebra[sounds like sea-bra]. Her weird little voice and her weird little cold blue eyes. Like two little hard candies that someone spat on the sidewalk. Now I just want to get home. It feels weird being out in the open. And this pie is hurting my arm.

Ughh. Thank god. I walk up Emily’s steps. I open the screen door but it hits something. I bend down to pick it up.

“What the-”

It’s a small cardboard box. It feels warm in my hand and there’s a name written on top of the box in beautiful cursive.

“Luke Prescot”

I don’t know anyone named Luke. I look around. Nobody is out. All the windows in all of the houses are dark. The the smell hits me. Cinnamon and cardamom. I look down. I open the box and more of that smell billows up. It’s a small spice cake and it smells like a thousand Christmases. I instantly feel wrong for looking so I close the box back up again. I go inside and put the cake in the fridge, I think I’ll just text Emily tomorrow and be like ‘Do you know anybody named Luke?”

I get a fork and I sit down with the pie box in front of the TV. I open it and I wait for a pillow of delicious smell to hit me but it doesn’t. The pie seems to have no smell compared to the cake. I take a bite anyway and turn on the news.

Some millionaire and his daughter crashed their plane at a lake. Search and rescue operations are underway. People on the news are pointing to the sky and talking at the camera. They show a picture that the  father posted to social media right before the flight. It’s the two of them standing next to the plane. Her smiling really big. And it was captioned ‘Esmerelda’s first plane ride.’ I take a bite of pie and stare at Esmerelda's face. Then I stop chewing.

I think of the bottom of the lake. I think of that plane. Folded up like a sleeping bird, down there. And I think of that man, slumped over in the crushed cockpit. His daughter trapped in the backseat behind him. And then suddenly I feel like I’m in that backseat. Unable to move. Looking at the back of my dad’s head. His blood like ribbons of red silk in the water. And then I just had this feeling, in my gut, I just know. They’re never gonna find this plane. They will never find Esmerelda Parring. She’ll be down there alone forever.

The bite of pie is much in my mouth. I swallow it and turn the TV off.

And then there is only my reflection. In the dark glass. Looking back at me

A photo of Melanie Lynx & fan/friend Anah Pignatelli at a local Boston show last January

There are a numerous amount of independent singer/songwriters out there with goals of reaching the top.  A senior at Berklee College of Music, Melanie Lynx Donnelly has taken many steps closer since her freshman year of college.  Now, graduating this May, the 21-year-old continues to follow her passion for music.  Melanie shared her story with me.  

Q:  Thanks so much for chatting with me today.  So, who inspired you to get involved with music and even to go to Berklee?  

A:  Well, to get into music, I started singing when I was really young, so I was always into music at an early age.  But, to go to Berklee, there are a lot of music schools around the country.  But, Berklee was the only one on the east coast that offered contemporary styles, so, you know, jazz, pop, rock, country, R&B.  Most of the other music schools were either musical theater or classical, so I was like “I need to go to Berklee!”  And when I started at Berklee, I thought I was gonna be a jazz singer.  And then that just evolved over time here and I started to write pop music and now, viola!  

Q:  Okay, awesome!  So who kind of inspires you as a pop artist?  

A:  Yeah!  Like I said, ever since I was young my first album for example was Britney Spears’ “Hit Me Baby One More Time,” and I think things like that have a lot to do with the initial things that you grew up with, and how they influence you and your life when you’re becoming an adult.  Like my first concert ever was P!nk, and P!nk is one of my greatest influences now.  So yeah, Katy Perry, a lot of 90s pop too.  

Q:  Very cool.  So what do you think kicked off your music career?  Do you think it was YouTube, or do you think it’s just by doing shows at Berklee?  

A:  Yeah, well, I would say what really kicked it off was during my second year at Berklee, I auditioned for American Idol, and I made it to the top 60 in Season 10.  So I went to Hollywood and it was really cool.  Then I came back and I was like, “I think this is what I wanna do for the rest of my life.”  Just getting out there was a huge inspiration, so everything followed that.  I came up with my stage name, which is Melanie Lynx, and started creating the brand of who Melanie Lynx is.  Obviously my style was kind of pop/rock, because that’s the kind of music I write.  It just kind of started from there; making YouTube videos, going on tours, making a Facebook fan page, a Twitter account, everything to connect with my audience.  

Q:  From your YouTube channel, I see that you have entered some Perez Hilton cover contests.  Will you tell me more about that?  Is it just kind of open to the public, and anybody can enter?  

A:  Kind of!  The Perez Hilton cover contests happen every two weeks on a Monday.  So he will post a new song on his blog that he wants people to cover.  And you know, there are some rules, like you have to say “This is for the Perez Hilton cover contest” on your video.  And he watches every single one of the videos that are submitted, and he hand-picks his favorites.  So, when I did it for “Starships” by Nicki Minaj, I got an honorable mention, so my video was featured on his blog.  And, because he’s a huge celebrity blogger, tons of people saw it, so that video has a lot of views now.  As a singer, you have to rely so much on other people to complete your project, like the video, the audio, obviously the musicians to play the song.  Just a lot of stuff needs to get figured out, so it’s cool when something like that comes together in such a short period of time.  

Q:  Yeah, that is really cool.  I kind of already asked you this, but is there someone who inspires your music style?  Is there someone who inspires the way you perform or even how you dress?  Personally, I think that you were born to be on stage, based on the way you carry yourself, you’re really outgoing.  Also, you’re a really good speaker, like when you are like “Hey guys! Thanks for coming!” at your shows.  I didn’t know if there was anybody who influenced you in that way.  

A:  Kind of.  I mean, like I said, in that way, as far as the performance setting, my inspirations were always P!nk and Gwen Stefani, who are more like rocker chicks.  But, in general, I think what made me so comfortable to be on stage is just the fact that I’ve been doing it for a really long time.  Plus, I did musical theater in high school, and that’s always on stage.  I was in a wedding band for two years, which I did before American Idol.  When you’re “gigging” all the time, it’s just like anything else; practice makes perfect.  I’m nowhere near perfect, but I’m so comfortable at this point.  

Q:  I think that’s cool.  Again, I think I kind of asked you this too, but what do you think helped you gain a fan base?  Do you think it was American Idol, YouTube, and Perez Hilton combined?  

A:  That’s an interesting question.  I’m still an artist who’s continually trying to expand their fan base.  I would say the initial start, like anything else, comes from your community.  Your friends and family, where you live.  I’m from Rhode Island originally, but because I live in Boston, there are all of my friends from school.  And once you have the initial numbers, it’s easier because they’re talking about it and they tell their friends.  But, nowadays, YouTube is really helpful for getting views first from people you don’t know all around the world.  Especially when you do covers.  I have some statistics that I looked up on my YouTube page, and on YouTube from January 2012 to March 2013, the most exposure I got was from people aged 13-20 years old, and primarily female.  The most-watched were all of my cover videos, because people were searching for those more.  People who don’t know who you are are type the name of the song in and “cover” afterward, and it pops up!  Recently, I haven’t been putting out as many and I’ve barely been putting out YouTube stuff at all because I’ve been focusing so much on the live shows.  And from that, it’s something that’s not very good, just because, at this point, the only people that are really watching it are the people that have already seen it, like my mom’s friends.  The demographic has changed from like 45-54-year-old women, so random people and other people who aren’t searching for it anymore; they’re just looking at my channel.  So, developing artists coming out with new YouTube stuff is just so important.  

Q:  That’s great.  Okay, what is your biggest goal for the future or even for graduation?  What was even your goal going into Berklee?