HYATTE'S GUIDE TO LIFE
- Chris Hyatte
wants me to contribute to his site here every week. His thinking is: “I saved your ass in the Midnight News a
million times, H-8! I re-invented your ass!
You owe me!”
he did contribute to the column many times, I’ll give him that.
He did fill in for me while I was away.
Yes he did. And I do
owe him, I owe him quite a bit to be honest.
So I said, “Sure
Flea, I’ll contribute to your site. What should I talk about?”
so now what?
already have a dumb column where I spout my dumb opinions.
Why do I need two forums? Will
this get me new readers? Not
a chance. Do I even have the time for another column?
Jesus, no. I work
for a living motherfucka… work hard and a lot.
You think those bedpans are gonna clean themselves?
it behooves me to contribute, but with what?
I need to put effort into everything I write, I can’t half-ass
it. But all the really good
stuff has to go into the bread and butter column.
This has to be different… unique… something you can’t get
anywhere else from me. But
what? God, what do I have
to say that would be remotely interesting?
raked over this for two weeks now.
I’m still raking, in case you didn’t notice.
I should do a nice, nifty short story of no less than 750-1000 words?
I badly need practice with the bare bones tale.
Most of mine tend to stretch deep into the 5 figure word-count
range. Something like this:
on the Smokeys
Randy’s eyes were blue - sky blue and so intense that Darlene thought that if she looked hard enough, she see tiny clouds floating within them. Randy’s eyes were his most attractive feature. Darlene loved getting lost in them.
Somewhere below those brilliant eyes that seemed to house a sky
from another world were a pair of thin lips that stretched into gray
worms whenever he smiled (and when he kissed her, his lips formed a
mushy circle. To Darlene,
making out with Randy felt like being mauled by a giant goldfish).
Breaking the beautiful silence, Randy’s pair of gray worms
twisted to life and said, “You’re so beautiful.”
Yes, she was. She
finally started to believe that. It
took a long time for her
to start thinking that.
She was beautiful. Randy
kept telling her that over the year they have been together, so how
couldn’t she be.
Randy moved his head closer and kissed her softly. The goldfish attacked. His tongue poked tenderly inside her mouth and lightly rubbed her own for a moment before pulling back.
you love me?” he asked.
smiled up at the Father of her unborn child.
The forty-four year old man who left his wife and children for
her. The forty-four year
old man who swept her up off her feet and treated her like a woman for
the first time in her seventeen years.
“Of course I love you. With
all my heart.” There was
no other possible answer.
gray worms kissed her forehead, “We are doing the right thing, you
know?” The wind had
picked up, sending his long hair to one side of his neck.
Darlene thought of
her Father, who was driving around town right now, looking for them,
with his shotgun resting behind the pickup’s seats. “I know, baby. I
love you so much. I can’t
stand not to be without you.”
widened. A small tangle of
wrinkled appears on both sides of his eyes whenever he did that. Like
his lips, Darlene grew to ignore those too.
There was a lot about Randy that she made herself ignore. The way she figured, that’s what true love was - ignoring
the bad and loving the good.
dug into his pocket and produced a flask.
He opened it and drank deeply.
He gave it to Darlene and she drank.
Hot whiskey filled her belly with warmth.
She wondered if this was good for her baby.
She decided that the baby could survive one strong gulp.
Randy took another snort from the flask, then put it back in his
pocket. He looked at the
sky and breathed deeply. A
stronger gust of wind made the hair against his neck dance.
The cropped hair on his scalp rippled, but his hairspray kept it
firmly in place. Darlene’s
own brown hair blew in her face, she pushed it back with her hand and at
the mountain ranges in the distance, watching the tops of the evergreens
shimmy in the warm gust. Pebbles,
which might have been wedged in the hillside for thousands of years,
finally broke free from the hill’s surface and skipped down.
Darlene felt absurdly lucky to be able to witness these pebbles
break free from the hill after centuries of confinement.
She decided that this was a good hill to free herself and her
child... just like these pebbles. Everything
is freed today.
Randy took her hands
in his and squeezed.
is no other way, right?” he said.
Darlene was scared,
but exhilarated all at once, “No, there really isn’t.”
“I love you
Darlene. More than you even
“I love you too
Randy. You are everything
You are worth everything to me.
You’re father doesn’t understand.”
“He never will,”
Darlene agreed. “Daddy
“No one will,”
Randy said. “Are you
her grip in his hands. “One
Randy moved in and
kissed her. They kissed
long. She thought that she
might actually miss these goldfish attacks, now that she thought of it.
Darlene broke away
and said, “To forever then.”
Randy finished. “I love
you so much!”
“I love you.”
Randy let go of her
hands and placed his on her shoulders. Darlene put her hands on his sides and held him tightly.
Randy asked, “On three?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Two.”
“No other way for
us to be together.”
My wife would kill me. Your
dad would kill you. God
knows. God understands.
tightened on Darlene’s shoulders and flung them towards the hill’s
cliff. Darlene felt herself
falling sideways. She
pulled back and pushed forward with all her might.
Randy grabbed her shoulders hard as he lost his balance on the
edge. He yanked Darlene
towards him. Darlene went
forward a little, but so she could get more force from her arms.
She placed her hands on Randy’s chest and shoved him back.
Randy backed into thin air and lost any semblance of balance he
had. Randy flew back and
plummeted straight down. Darlene
pulled herself back from the crumbling ledge and watched as Randy
crashed down off the steep hill and bounced hard down.
He smashed into a large boulder that jutted out from the Hill’s
face. Darlene heard an
audible snap as Randy’s back crashed against the unforgiving rock.
The force of Randy’s weight dislodged the boulder from it’s
home, freeing it just like all the pebbles Darlene saw the wind free a
few moments ago. Randy and
the boulder fell into a sea of green as they fell into tightly knit
evergreens that are so close together; they appear black at night.
Darlene heard the boulder land, and she heard Randy moan, but
there wasn’t much behind it. If Randy was still alive, she figured he wouldn’t be for
long. Besides, she noted
that the sun was slowly making its way downward and will soon sink into
the horizon. It will be
dark soon. Then the bears
will come out. There are
plenty of Bears in the Smoky Mountains.
Darlene patted her tummy, still flat, but that will change soon
enough. She turned and
headed back into the mile-long trail they walked after parking.
Mindy had already promised that she’ll tell everyone that
Darlene was with her all day to hide out from her father.
Randy’s wife might make a fuss, but not a loud one, after the
insurance policy kicks in. All
Darlene would have to do is avoid her for a spell.
Randy’s widow will get over it soon enough.
Probably within a week. Everyone
saw the steady stream of visitors the now former Mrs. Randy Hulton had
to her trailer while Randy was out painting houses.
Darlene was sure the old lady would bounce back quick from her
Darlene listened to
the birds chirp their songs in the trees; she tried to whistle with
them, then gave up and settled on humming.
Daddy will still be mad, and she might get a few belt straps, but
so long as she kept saying that Randy left town and probably Tennessee
altogether, he’d calm down. She’ll
take a whipping, then settle back, and have her little baby.
Daddy’s about to graduate to Granddaddy, how can he get too
Darlene stopped for
a second, she thought she could hear Randy still screaming.
Faintly, she heard “trailer trash whore,” coming from behind
her. No, she decided, it
was just the wind. She
wasn’t trailer trash anyway; she was going to be someone’s Momma.
knew trailer trash. Trailer
trash were ugly folks. Darlene
was beautiful. Randy told
her so, and wanted her to die with him just so no one else could have
her. That’s how beautiful
she was. The baby was going
to be beautiful too. Even
if it had her daddy’s wormy lips, there were doctors who could inflate
them like tires. She already looked into that.
Besides, she was only seventeen. Randy was old. Randy already had his life, and he would have kept trying to spoil her own. She loved Randy dearly, but she wanted to be with a lot of guys before she settled down. She wanted to have fun. Darlene thought she still could, even with her baby. Who said Randy was the only guy with sky blue eyes? That’s just silly.
She walked down the
path again, and started to hum with the singing birds.
She decided that one day; she’ll take her baby back here with
her and teach it how to sing too.
That’s what beautiful Mommas do.
Something like that.
Now that was a perfectly serviceable 1’400+ word story with a
little moral lesson tossed in for good measure (that being: love kills,
but blind love really hurts before it kills).
Could I do that every week?
Naah. Once in a
what else can I write about? A
weekly dose of random thoughts? Stuff
I accumulated during my week of living life?
Something like this:
probably put me in jail, with a hefty bail, or put me in the total
shitter with my family, but I don’t care anymore.
Within a year, I am going to beat the ever-living shit out of my
no good, useless, not a goddam thing to offer anyone, worthless deadbeat
crackhead cousin. For
crimes against me, his parents, and everyone else who’s had the
misfortune of meeting him.
something about women who have served time in jail that turns me on big
I carry a Bible with me to work just because I heard that the
ultra-ultra-ULTRA hot Spanish chick who lives in the building I watch
over the weekends goes to Bible class during the week.
Whenever the elevator leaves the third floor, I throw down the
Playboy and pick up the good book.
I even bring a notebook and pretend to jot shit down.
So far, while she has noticed, she hasn’t stopped and talked to
me about it. (the fact that she doesn’t speak a lick of English other
than “hi” is probably a factor).
I don’t care if it makes me lame… I still enjoy doing it.
the Rocky movies in succession (you can skip 5)… notice how lousy 2-4
are when compared to the first one.
In fact, only 3 really has any relevance anymore.
really need to shave my head bald again.
Can you put up with that kind of column for too long?
Me neither. There’s
a reason I never put together a daily journal of my own.
I have this column and Flea wants me to write in it… and I have no
idea what to say. This was
my drama for the last week or so.
it hit me.
does stuff for my column… he did a bit where he connected everything
possible to Bob Ryder within 6 degrees (of course, the numerically
illiterate hick was occasionally a degree or three off), then he
“retired” that gimmick and did “Ask Flea” where he would answer
your questions… then that gimmick ran it’s course (after a whopping
TWO INSTALLMENTS)… and now he occasionally submits a fast 500 word
essay for me… mostly just to plug this site which will probably do
nothing for him, or me in the long run, but he enjoys doing it so who
I once asked Flea where he would put himself on the IWC list.
He didn’t waste time and quickly (ie: before the last word
flitted out of my mouth) snapped, “Oh, I’d be number 1, H-8!
I’ve influenced EVERYBODY”
I pointed out that he just stole my “gimmick”, he calmly called me a
since it’s all about stealing my gimmicks here at 1Flea-land (note his
friendly advice to cut and paste "No
one gives a shit about this list. It sucks."and
send it to him as ready-made flame mail.
Where DOES he gets these idears?) I thought I’d join the party
welcome to ASK HYATTE!
me any questions: Love,
sex, music, politics, mom, dad, books, me, you, school, why your ass
bleeds. Anything and I will
strive to offer useful, decent, brutally honest advice.
And, when I don’t feel like answering questions, I’ll do
another short story or random thought thing.
Basically, whatever I can do that’s quick and easy yet
entertaining enough, I’ll do.
in keeping with ripping off the ripper-offer, I’ll refuse to do them
anymore within two columns. Either
that or I’ll do them for years and prove to Flea that a great gimmick
can be done for a long time and STILL stay fresh.
God, I’m about to re-invent-the art of re-inventing.
This is Hyatte
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