Shamu Show

My mother and I had lived in a decent house in California. We still went there frequently. It did not belong to us. We had lived with my mothers’ best friend Charlene and Charlene’s’ two boys Greg and Dave. Dave was much older than Greg and me, so we did not see him much. He was an adult, where as Greg and I were still in school. Greg was my brothers’ age. My brother lived with my father back in Texas. My mother and Charlene met when we were living in military housing. Their marriages didn’t last, but the friendship did. Now, Mom and I lived in an apartment just a mile or so away from Charlene.

Mom was a gorgeous woman. She was curvy with long blond hair. Mom was also very sick, she suffered from many different problems so she rarely had energy to do anything outside of getting herself to work. She put on a good face though. You couldn't help but smile when she did.

Charlene and Greg both had dark brown, almost black hair. Greg was a lean, well built man that I would have thought of as cute if he weren’t so much like a brother. Charlene was thin and had sever features. She could be very strict and she could be very giving. She was a good friend to my mother. My brother occasionally will say it is because they were in a relationship, but he was most adamant about that when he first came out of the closet himself; He wanted the whole world to be gay. Lesbian or not, the two of them and their children (Greg and me) would occasionally spend a day together.

One of those days we went to Sea World. I remember that Greg’s friend Chris came with us. He was built like a stick with messy sandy hair and we had had an argument, but I still liked him. We spent the day going to shows. Some of it I spent with my mother. We liked to go to the dolphin pool and pet the dolphins; two of them came up to me nearly every time whether or not I had food. I got a kick out of that. I was sure that it was the same two too. I saw a show or two with Charlene and my mother. Then I went off with the boys to get soaked at the Shamu show. Charlene had warned us that we had to get soaked early in the day because we were not allowed in her car wet. I sat next to Chris. I remember that. We got soaked and it felt great. When I was dry enough, Mom and I went up the PSA tower and looked out over San Diego. We hadn’t planned to stay late but there was a new show that was only at night and we wanted to see it. The Shamu Show at night. With a new big tank and baby Shamu. There were to be two or three night shows, but we wanted to see the first so that we could all get home at a decent hour.

We sat away from the splash zone, because we would be leaving the park after this night performance. Mom had her great big cup with her (she was always thirsty) and Charlene shared popcorn with us. The show started with music blasting and lights dancing and then a trainer came out and gave an introduction. The show was like most day time shows, expect for the addition of the laser lights and strobe lights. It was still a fine show. That is, until the point when Shamu was rising up out of the water. Nearly the whole body was out of the water as the strobe lights shone like crazy….

Then it was daylight. Shamu was in the air. She landed and then there was blood spreading out from the whale. The audience and the trainers were in shock as we saw blood spread in the tank. Shamu died. And think I blinked…

It was still night time. Shamu hadn’t landed in the water yet. She just started to go back into the water. As she did, the strobe lights came to a halt. People nearest the tank were soaked and happy. Shamu was fine. The trainers said their farewells. I was shaken. What the hell had just happened? I wanted to yell. To scream. What would I say? I had a scary day-dream during the show? No, I wanted to say that something was wrong. I did not know who I could say this too. How did I know something was wrong? What was wrong? Nothing really happened? With a lot of anxiety and a bunch of other mixed emotions, I left the park along with the others. It was not an ordinary dream.

Just a couple of days later my mother and I were watching the news on television while she got dinner ready. She was in the kitchen when a news anchor announced that after the break we would hear about the tragedy at Sea World. Mom stopped what she was doing and looked at the television. We had just been there. I held my breath. The commercial break was over.

Shamu died of unknown reasons during a show. She jumped out of the water, came down and then blood spread through the tank. Holy Shit! That is just what I saw.

I sat there silent for a time. I’m not sure how long it was, but it seemed like forever. I looked at my mother and she looked at me. She was looking at me kind of weird. Did she know something? Then, we shared. I told her what I saw. Then she told me that she saw something too. Only in her version, Shamu landed on the glass wall enclosing the tank and split herself open. I shuddered. Then she told me that when she saw her version, it was during the night time show; while Shamu was mid jump and the strobe lights were full blast. The same moment that I saw my version. We were speechless after that. What else could have been said? All we were left with were questions.

Coke Party

It was another warm fall day in sunny San Diego County. I was on my way back to the apartment from school. The way home was all downhill. It was a nice area and I got to watch the older kids practice their sports on the fields at the high school as I passed by. Technically, we were freshman but the ninth grade was at the junior high school rather than the high school.
Today, I was walking home with a friend. Stephanie was the first Jew that I had ever met. Well the first person that I met that I knew to be Jewish. In school, we had studied a unit on World War II and saw pictures of Jews. Stephanie looked nothing like any of them. She was thin, but not emaciated. She also wore casual clothes with a few pieces of nice jewelry and had long red hair. Stephanie was kind of an outcast at school. I was too. We got along great. She was coming home with me so that we could work on a project. Her mother would pick her up on her way from work.
We were a bit more than halfway down the long road when a red Ford Fiesta pulled up on the side of the road, near to where we were. Five blond and sandy blond teenage girls were in the car. I didn’t know them. Neither did Stephanie. The one seated in the front of the passenger side peered out at us and then asked us where we were going. We told them quite simply that we were going home. They offered us a ride. We refused. One of the girls in the back said that they were heading to a coke party. Did we want to join? We said ‘thank you, but no’. The girls got pissed. The one that invited us to the party forced her way out of the car, smashing her friend in the front.
This crazy person started in on us. How dare we refuse her invitation? Were we better than her and her friends? Cautiously I maneuvered myself so that I could get the make and model of the car as well as the license plate number. Crazy started toward me and Stephanie moved in between. Crazy shoved her to the ground then got back into the car. The car left and we watched as it turned a corner. We sighed with relief. But relief did not last; I got a horrible feeling.
I saw us, Stephanie and me. We were surrounded by a throng of girls all high on something. I was bleeding, so was Stephanie. Crazy was telling me that I chose this. That we chose this. If we didn't want to be cut any more, the guys would be happy to take over. But if the guys came in, we'd have to do whatever they wanted before they would let us go. If not, the guys will kill us while the fucked us. Crazy said we had a choice...
I snapped out of it and told Stephanie that I thought they’d be back and probably with a knife or other weapon. We started to run home, but before we got there the girls were back. They were following us. Crazy had a knife.
The girls said that all would be forgiven if we’d just join them and go to the party. If we didn’t, we would be sorry. We couldn’t hide from them. They would follow us home. Then we would pay.
Neither of us was a good runner. We were in front of the apartment complex, but we did not want those crazy bitches to know where I lived. So, we went into the complex to the door that said “management” and prayed that the old lady was there.
The wrinkled reddish haired lady opened the door and took in our expressions, then looked outside. Across the lawn and on the street was the red car, with five teenage girls staring at us. When the landlady looked at them they started screaming obscenities at her and threatening her too. We went inside and called the police.
They police did take a statement. If anything was ever done, we never heard about it. At least the girls were not seen again by Stephanie or me. But, my mother and I got into trouble. I was not supposed to be in the apartment with a friend unless an adult was there.

Family Trip

It was the month of August in the early 80’s and we were in North Carolina. Cleveland County. My mother’s family had a long history in that county going back to the early 1700’s. But Mom was not with us, she was back home. Dad had custody of my brother and me and we were on a cross country tip. We had driven all the way to New York to visit his family and now we were headed back to Texas via North Carolina. Dad knew that us kids did not get to see Nanny very often. Nanny is what we called Mom’s mom. A true southern belle. We stuck out like a sore thumb in North Carolina. And not just because we had Texas license plates. My 6’4” father, Howard, turned heads when he walked into a place wearing his favorite cowboy boots and blue jeans only to open his mouth and sound like a Yankee. My brother Howie was tall for his age, had blond hair and was always up to something. Me? I had sandy blond hair and a nice California tan. When I opened my mouth I didn’t sound like my father, nor did I sound like a southerner. I sounded like the Californian that I was. We confused a few people just by being around. We would be accepted though, ‘cause we were going to visit family.

We stayed at Nanny’s house. My great grandfather built the house when my grandmother was a child. It was not a big house, but it had a fireplace in three rooms, an enclosed front porch and a car port. Out back, Nanny grew some vegetables and out front she had many types of flowers and a walnut tree. Inside, the house had furniture from several different generations. The curtains were of her own design and the plastered ceilings had been designed by her husband.

We spent just a couple of days with Nanny and her husband, Grandpa Bud. She’d married him after Mom had married Dad. Both were short, maybe 5’5” and 50 something years old. Grandpa Bud loved golf, I don’t remember if the men went golfing or not but they did stay together a lot. Who knew what men did when they were off on their own? Nanny spent her time with me showing off the house we were staying in, showing some family heirlooms, talking about our family history, cooking (there was a sour cream pound cake every Sunday), and impressing upon me the importance of acting lady like.

I don’t remember all that we did. I remember Nanny made me a special cake for my 8^th birthday which was earlier that month and she gave me some hideous home-made clothes which I thanked her for and then prayed I’d never have to wear in public. When it was time to leave I packed all my things, even the ones that I thought about leaving behind “accidently on purpose”. She would not have liked that, and would have been hurt if she realized that it had been on purpose.

As the bags were being packed into my father’s car, we said our farewells and thank yous. Nanny appreciated my father for including her and Bud in our trip. Dad, Howie and I thanked them for the gifts we received, a movie they took us to, and for having us. We hugged one another and then two of us started for the car. Howie was not coming. He held onto Grandpa Bud. Dad called to him, but Howie tightened his hold. He was afraid that he would never see Grandpa Bud again. Somehow Bud was able to be released from his step-grandson and Howie got into the car. He sobbed for a good part of the trip home.

When we got back to Texas, we called all the relatives to let them know that we were back safe. Everyone, in every state was fine. They were missing us kids though. Howie was happy to talk to Grandpa Bud, but he was still upset that we left him.

A few weeks later, we were back in school. My brother attended school in Texas, where he and our father lived. I attended school in California where I lived with our mother. Things were pretty mundane. I kept reliving parts of the trip. When we were in New York, I had an uncle take me canoeing and that was fun. And I met my aunt’s great big mutt of a dog, who I adored. When I wasn’t thinking about that I’d think about how Nanny was with me when I visited. “Keep your shoulders back””Don’t cross your legs like that””sit up straight”. She seemed to nitpick everything, including my weight. But when guests were around boy she was proud of me. It gave me a lot to think about. And then there was my brother. Why did he freak out like he did? It worried me. Scared me really. I tried not to dwell on it though. I bothered me to think about it.

So imagine the shock when my mother got the call from her mother. Grandpa Bud died of cancer, if I recall correctly. My poor brother, somehow he knew. He was all the way in Texas. How was he handling it? Howie told us that it was the last time we’d see him. He was right.

A Weird Life to Write About

I have had some very strange experiences in my life and I enjoy watching science fiction shows. It's no wonder that between the two, my imagination runs away with me at times. Maybe that is why I like creating stories. I have a dream that one day I will be a successful screenplay writer. How likely is that? At the moment, not too likely. I have to kick my own ass into gear. What am I afraid of?
Years ago I started writing a script for Star Trek, the Next Generation. I did it just for fun. I spent a lot of time on it and one of my aunts had noticed and told my mother. I hadn't said anything to anyone. It was just down time, an escape. But when my mother found out about it, she wanted to know more. I told her a bit about it. Her brother is in the entertainment industry and has written screenplays himself; she insisted that I show him what I had so far when I next came to visit her.
I did just that. He took the 20 pages or so that I had at the time and read them later that night. I saw him a day or two later... he said that I had a really good story. Of course he would, he is my mother's brother. He did say that my formatting was awful and he gave me a book on writing for television. It took me forever to reformat what I had so that it remotely resembled a proper format, but I really got into it. I wrote several more pages, not sure where I'd end up. A few more people showed interest... and some relatives were quick to point out that where I do not own the rights to the story, nothing would ever happen to it. No one would ever see it. I think I wrote about 60 pages before I dropped it. I still have a copy of it somewhere. Maybe one day I'll post it in a fan fiction site.
Despite not having finished that story, I always have one in my head. I actually did write an original screenplay. Now I need to proof read it and make some changes. Maybe I'll enter in a screen writing contest. I could have done that a while ago but I've been dragging my feet. Why? I ask myself that a lot.