Tuesday, November 13, 2007

More Local Legends

Been a while since I have blogged. I have been doing a lot of brainstorming about what I should focus my blog posts on. I tried comics for a while, but the comics blog-o-sphere is loaded with tons of little fish trying to be as good as the masters. I could weigh in on local issues, but that would be really unprofessional considering my position at the paper and I am just a pesky transplant anyway. Of course, there are masters there as well. Books maybe? You guys like books and reading? We shall see.

Here is a little series of anecdotes I wrote up about a little rumor my lovely GF Amanda told me about. I enjoy the fragmented style, but I realize that I am not that deft in applying it. It is more of a crutch for me, a handy way to frame stories. The style gives the narrative a "newsy" feel as if we were trying to garner the full picture from things we overheard on the radio or on the news ticker at CNN. Palahniuk did this with his last book Rant, framing it as an oral history of his protagonist.

I tend to write in sound bites anyway. A little scene here, then a quick scene there. I have focused what little professional writing I do on journalism because I do not have the patience to write a full fledged short story. Except for these blog posts, I write in a world where 800-words is a lot of space. I tried to find something, anything, about this rumor, but could not turn up anything. Tioga County is a relatively rural county with no county-wide newspaper. Maybe their local media haven't made as big a presence online. If anyone from Tioga County or Candor stumbles upon this, are these rumors true? Did someone every release cougars up there? Peace!

___________________________________

Shadow Cats

Terrence Liddle reinforced the floorboards in the tree stand. Since his grandfather passed, there had been little interest in hunting in the household and the wood turned soft and green. With the rumors, Gran forced him to take the post and protect the family investment on White Church Road. At the gas station, Gran heard that the animals could gauge out the siding from a house with their paws as big as catcher's mitts and claws longer than pocket combs. Terrence believed all that to be exaggeration, having looked up cougars in the old set of World Books his father kept in the crawl space.
"I don't think they get that big," he told her while Gran tried to convince his daughter Jamie of the gravity of cougar attacks.
"Oh, maybe this ones special because the whole town is talking about them!" She grabbed Jamie by the waist and made the girl sit on her lap. "I will stay here with her while you make sure that stand is alright."
Terrence remembered something from the encyclopedia, but ignore it. He made a final check of the new pine boards and nestled a cushion from the sofa up there. "Might as well be comfortable," he mumbled, the evening before his first watch.

* * *

"Lions, tigers, and bears! OH MY!"
"Shut up!"
"Lions, tigers, and bears! OH MY!"
"SHUT UP!"
"Lions, tigers, and bears! OH MY!"
"Oh, fuck you, Luke!"
She choked the silver door handle of the Buick and swung the heavy car door open. The hinges popped as the door swung shut. From the outside she fumbled for her cell phone under the yellow light of the lonely streetlight.
Luke rolled down the passenger side window. "Oh, c'mon, Marie. It's just a joke! A rumor!" He leaned further over and managed to get the crack the door ajar. "There aren't any cougars!"
"It was in the paper," she interjected. Far out on Route 33, the hills block any phone service and her phone chirped, "We're sorry" in harsh, soft tones.
Luke rolled his eyes. "The Random Observer, Marie. The new golf course on Route 95 was the headline. Just get back in the car."
Marie cocked her head to the side and saw the white glow of Dassy's Gas Station and Mini Market down below. She popped a leg over the wire divider and prepared herself to skitter down the embankment to the valley below. It wasn't that steep and even in the night the grooves would be familiar from the highway cleanups she did back in 4H.
Luke heard the gravel crunching. "Where the hell are you going!?"
"Away!" She slid off the gravel and began jaunting down the weedy hillside.
"Hey, hey!" Luke screamed from the driver's seat asking, "What the hell do I tell your parents when you don't show up!"
"A cougar did it," said a voice from close to the bottom.

* * *

Police Chief Deborah Capet spent the evening preening through the pages of a yellowed HTML help book the department bought years ago. No one had updated their department's website in years. She hammered out a quick message before a call on the radio reported another mysterious sighting.

* * *

Killing time in the public library and getting near the end of his 30-minutes, computer limit Virgil Stakum stumbled across the police department website. He ran search for "Tendia Town" and "Crime." On the welcome page he found:

Please be advised that it is illegal to discharge firearms within the borders of the Town of Tendia and all other county municipalities unless in self-defense. Illegal discharges and hunting will be prosecuted. Call 557-3870 for more information. Ask for Chief Capet. Thank you.

* * *

Trying to find a comfortable distance form the tape recorder, Town Supervisor Larry Corradino dismissed the rumors. He had dealt with reporters from Binghamton before, but he couldn't find his footing with this story. He later told his wife that, "There is no way to sound intelligent about it. The whole cougar fiasco."
But he tried with the reporter.
"Look the only cougars here are those at the high school," he said trying to crack a smile. The reporter didn't carry a notebook with him, so Larry got in close to the microphone, ignoring his previous apprehensions. "That's the mascot, you see."

* * *

The sound of gunshots disrupted church service all month long. Taking a historian though a tour of the First Presbyterians country cemetery, councilmember Peggy White apologized for the red discharged shells that peppered the woods behind the graves. "People just get a little carried away here when it comes to safeguarding the town!" She smiled her widest grin. "It's why we have so much history!"

* * *

The deer didn't seem to mind the supposed cougars. They still strolled down in the early light of Main Street, stripping the young leaves of forsythia shoots. Opening her bakery, Hope August told the newspaper delivery man if he had heard about the rumors. "Oh, yeah, Hope. Even as far as Syracuse where my cousin lives. He told me, 'Hey, Vince be careful with those cougars!'
Hope helped him heave a bundle inside and made sure the loud thud could be heard by the deer. They scampered away when it hit. "Well, sometimes I hope they had done their duty and controlled some of those deer," she said.

* * *

When the town library checked out all its book on big cats it started a wait list. Michael Bassett, terrified for his family, went to the elementary school library and sat in the plastic bucket chairs around the nature section. When a little girl asked him what he was doing, Michael just held up the cover of the book and the girl understood. "Ohhhhh, OK."

* * *

Elsewhere in the elementary school, Ms. Janson asked all her sixth grade students to write a short poem for their language arts class. Most centered around cats. Eve asked Ms. Jason if it was OK if her poem didn't rhyme.
"Well, sure, Eve. But why did you choose to go that way?"
Eve shrugged her shoulders, acting for the class as much as asking. "Nothing rhymes with cougar!"

* * *

Another child from Ms. Jason's class, Darien, spent the rest of the day in Principal Sherman's office. When he finally meet with Adelle Sherman, she asked Darien to read his poem again. Ms. Janson was there and so was Superintendent Digger. He read it:

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forest of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry

"That's awful good for 12-year old boy," said Principal Sherman.
Darien almost cracked a smile, but Superintendent Digger quickly jumped in. "Ok, where did you steal that from?"
"It's Blake, Jim," interjected Ms. Janson.

* * *

At the coffee shop someone asked, "Where did all these cougars come from?" They must have been a tourist passing through to the wine trails in the next county. No one remembered their face. Could have been in a group. No one knew the answers. "They just are here," said a Denise Hutchinson, a waitress. Everyone agreed. After the stranger left, word began to circulate that Terrence Liddle had bagged one from his grandfather's tree stand.






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