9 Streets Full of Ugly Kids

I could begin this narrative by reflecting on a world full of danger, a world full of invisible hazards. I could compare seemingly innocent figures to that tendril deep underwater, luring sharks to their deaths. The most treacherous predators are the ones you do not consider to be a threat. I could reflect on these thoughts further, but Id rather just continue the plot. Grassy offered Snowman and the Obscure bedrooms on the second floor. The rooms were sparse of furniture or objects: just a bed and a dresser. The Obscure noticed a teddy bear wallpaper trim in his room, faded and yellowed around the edges. After settling in, he peeked downstairs where Snowman and Grassy were having tea in the living room. The curtains were shut and tied tightly together, and the lamps were dim as candlelight. Snowman had small talk with his brother about their lives, their jobs, their pets, their women, but the Obscure was too tired to cut around the bush. So whats out there thats so damn dangerous? he blurted. Grassy looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Nothing! I mean weve been have a problem with robberies in this area, so I like to keep the lights low. Shouldnt you keep the lights on? asked the Obscure. Dont you want the house to look lived in? The Obscure, dont pester my brother, said Snowman. Isnt it enough that hes letting you stay here? Well I dont want to get murdered in the middle of the night, said the Obscure. It would be very inconvenient to my career. You know what? Im going to give you two some time to catch up. Im going for a stroll around town. Grassy was about to voice his objection to it, to warn the man about the danger, but then he realized he didnt really know the Obscure and didnt actually care for him all that much. Still, hed at least give him some warning.

Be careful out there, Mister. Its not safe once the sun sets. The Obscure decided to stay out until midnight. He had more fun when he did things out of spite. When he was ten, his father handed him a knife and told him to go kill himself. From that point on, the Obscure decided to be immortal. The sun fell swiftly toward downtown, hiding behind the rooftops. It was just about the time of day when children were getting out of school, going home, and walking their dogs. But he didnt see anyone. He even found a school, but the building had been boarded up and singed throughout as though someone had tried to burn it down. He strolled around the back and saw a basketball court with a game in progress. There were two teams of kids looking as though they had been playing for hours: all of them had those off-putting facial features. The Obscure decided to explore the downtown strip and locate a tavern. He passed several empty neighborhoods and houses with shuttered windows. Occasionally, hed spy somebody watching him through venetian blinds, but theyd disappear before he could wave or throw them the bird. Finally he found some activity. A group of kids were playing hockey in the middle of a street. He stopped to watch but then realized that he hated hockey unless it involved gigantic men beating each other, so he kept walking. He turned his back on the kids just as they all stopped their game and stared at him: their rigid, gruesome brows frowning. Gruesome by your standards. I actually thought they were kind of charming. Downtown at least looked occupied. People roamed about the wooden buildings, busy with the tasks of their daily grind. Workers in the factories began wrapping-up for the day. The bluesman wandered further, but didnt see a drinking establishment of any kind. Suddenly, everything sprung to life. Doors opened, men and women poured from the buildings, and cars littered the streets. The sidewalks became overrun with people marching briskly into the food and drug stores, purchasing supplies for the night. The Obscure climbed atop a fire hydrant to escape the onslaught. He gazed at the surging mass and spotted a strange shinning figure in the distance. It was like a clown mixed with a civil war 3

captain: an old uniform and hat cut from bright, rainbow colors. Steamers and tassels sprung out of the persons costume. Captivated, the Obscure hopped off the hydrant and ran towards the figure, dodging the stampede of workers. And now to break up the action Grassy checked his clock. Its five o clock. We should get to the store and buy dinner. Forget that, Ill take you out to dinner. Somewhere real nice. We cant. There arent any restaurants in town other than fast food. Not a single one? How can that be? They dont do good business around here. Grassy was putting on his shoes and Snowman, bewildered, followed him out the door. Why does it have to be five o clock? asked Snowman as they got into Grassys car. Its the best time for shopping. We can also stop by the department store and get some fresh towels if you want any. Meanwhile in downtown, the Obscure approached that weird, towering figure. He found it was actually just a girl in her twenties dressed in a garish American Revolution outfit: tri-cornered hat and everything. She stood atop a crate, a drum around her neck and a bucket on the sidewalk in front of her. He realized the game and dropped a quarter into the bin. She came to life and drummed a marching beat with great skill and dexterity. When she finished, she bowed, smiled, and went back to her resting state. That was very good, said the Obscure, but she didnt react. Ill give you another quarter if you have a conversation with me. No need, answered the street performer, all you need to do is ask. She had a soothing voice, full of energy and spiritedness. Id like to say that some traumatic event will befall her that will crush the sprightliness out of her, but no such luck for me. This is a strange town, said the Obscure. Are you from here? 4

No, I could never live in a weird place like this. I prefer somewhere with a nightlife, where people come together in creative waves of energy! Ossuary doesnt have any of that. How long have you been here? A few hours. The streets were all deserted when I got here, and now suddenly Every morning at eight and every evening at five the city comes to life and looks like an actual civilization. But it lasts only an hour, and then all these people disappear into their homes or into their workplaces. Ive been here a week and its like this everyday. Do the kids go to school at all? They seem to have free reign of the streets. I know. Its strange. When I first got here, they stared at me really crazylike. But theyve softened up ever since I started doing my act. But theyre not very friendly. I was asking around at the tavern and someone said that all the children here are homeschooled. That explains why the schools are closed-up. What was that you said about a tavern? Oh, the tavern. Theres only one in the whole city. Actually, aside from fast food, ice cream shops, and department stores, there really isnt anything else in town. But the tavern is here and the tavern is beautiful. Its designed like those speakeasies of the old days. You have to be discreet about going, though, because its hidden in an alley, behind a closed-down storefront. What is this, a dry town? I think so, because no one drinks. Except for at the tavern. Do they happen to carry Walker Johns? They sure do. Its my fav-o-rite! Then I think Ill check it out. Where is it at? She pointed him to the dilapidated building two blocks away, and he hurried off as she played him another marching beat. Im not very fond of this

drumming character, but unfortunately she has a major role in the life of the Obscure. He found the building and the alley and a steel door covered in patches of rust and grime. It seemed like the kind of door that would lead into a janitors closet or a basement, but when he knocked, a little slot opened up. A pair of eyes studied him. What do you want with this maintenance room? asked the man behind the door. I want a drink and I want to play my guitar, answered the Obscure. The door opened and the man on the other end motioned the Obscure to get in quickly. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark bar, but he could see the wooden walls covered in photographs and heirlooms from decades long ago. He could see the tables and stools and the piano in the corner. He could see the bar with a row of bottles behind it. The selection wasnt great, but liquor must have been hard to come by in that place. We dont start serving til eight, said the doorman, but if you want to hang around, I got nothing wrong with that. I got a question for you, said the Obscure. I want to play here tonight. You dont need to pay me, but I can ask for tips. This wasnt actually a question. Let me get the manager. The doorman ran into a backroom and retrieved a giant in a tweed coat. He had a bushy beard that swept around to his waterfall of hair. He stood almost eight feet tall and five feet wide and lumbered into the room like a precarious tower. So you want to play music in my club? asked the giant folding his arms. I wouldnt be here otherwise, said the Obscure. It all depends on how good you are. Could you play something now? Actually, I didnt bring my guitar with me. I didnt think thered be an examination.

Ill tell you what. The pianist who used to come in and play left town this morning, so we could use a replacement. Ill let you play and if youre good, you can keep playing. If youre bad, then youre out of here. Does that sound fair? I have just one question, said the Obscure, I have to run back and grab my instrument, eat something, and all that, so I cant play until around nine. Again, this wasnt a question and it irked the doorman. Thats fine. Things dont usually pick up until past nine anyways. Well see you then. And just so you know, this is the secret knock The giant performed a complicated series of taps on a nearby table. The Obscure wasnt paying attention, and he was sure he didnt need to retain this stupid secret. Im Franklin. What do you go by? I go by my proper name: the Obscure. They shook hands and the bluesman marched out the door, to the spot where the drumming girl stood frozen. He tossed her another quarter, and she played him another beat. I love that, said the Obscure. You keep a really good rhythm. Thank you. Did you find the tavern? I did. And Ive got a gig tonight. Thats ex-ci-ting! Whatll you play? I dont have a set list or anything. Ill just play whatever comes to mind. Ive got to go get my instrument. Would you mind if I accompanied you? If you want to follow along, I wont stop you. What about your performance here? I dont really make any money in the evening. In the morning, though, people are willing to stop and listen. Lets go. By the way, my name is the Obscure. Im Darubelle. You can call me Daru if you think Darubelle is a mouthful. Yes, this is that Darubelle. If you dont know who Darubelle is, then you must not be a fan of the Obscures music or youve been living under a rock. 7

Dont be offended if I just refer to you as hey you. She giggled in a tone that disgusts me: so childish and cute. I wish that the truck passing beside them had run her over. By this time, most of the people had moved on from the food stores and were now in other establishments: banks, dry cleaners, pharmacies, movie rental stores, etc. It was five-thirty and the crowds were dying down. The Obscure and Daru sauntered through the neighborhoods, taking the long way around so that they could explore the area. They noticed that the sports fields and the playgrounds were deserted and not a single child was to be seen. Daru suggested that they must have been eating dinner. This town runs on a weird routine, said Daru. Everyday the children all run inside at five and then reappear at six. I cant wait to be out of here, said the Obscure. Where are you from originally? Pisshawk County, Arkansas. Is that a town? There aint really towns around there. Just clusters of houses that vaguely resemble neighborhoods. Im guessing youre from the north. Im from the ruins of Deltroie. You traveled far. I can see why you left. Its not so bad. In fact, I had a lot of fun in that city, but I had to see what was beyond the walls. Isnt that why youre traveling? Im on a quest. She smiled, intrigued by this simple statement. They arrived at the house around ten minutes til six. The Obscure ran in, grabbed his case, and went outside just in time to see Grassy and Snowman inspecting Darubelle who had resumed her statue act. This place gets weirder and weirder, said Snowman. This is Darubelle, said the Obscure. Watch this.

He placed a quarter in her front pocket and the drummer banged away at her instrument. The brothers were startled at first but then smiled when she bowed to them. Friend of yours? asked Snowman. Yeah, were going to head out. You two want to come? No! shouted Grassy. I mean sorry, but my brother and I have some catching up to do. He dragged Snowman inside by his wrist and locked the door. It was now exactly six P.M. The Obscure and Daru retraced their steps through the neighborhoods. The children had reappeared, playing games in the twilight: games that involved sinister whooping and cacophonous laughter. Downtown was deserted and everything was locked-up for the night. A few stragglers hurried home before the sun went down. The only sign of life was an ice cream shop, which flooded the street with unsightly florescent light. The whole shop radiated with a white cleanliness as though the whole thing had been washed in bleach. The two musicians peaked in and saw a flock of children inside, scooping lumps of ice cream and piling toppings of all varieties. If youd like, I could recite the long list of ingredients: the fruits, the candies, and the cereals But I would only make myself hungry by thinking about it. And seeing this ice cream oasis made the sweet-toothed Daru hungry. Obscure do you want to get some ice cream? No, but you go ahead. They stepped inside and immediately the already cold store became even colder as eyes upon eyes fixed on them. The children had become threateningly silent. Yeah, threateningly silent. You know what Im talking about? The Obscure noticed the smell of carbon monoxide. Perhaps a gas leak in the building. He didnt want to stay long. Hi everybody, Im Darubelle. I play a drum for a living. How much is ice cream?

There was no immediate answer, but after a moment of observing her innocent and pathetically sweet smile, a boy in a red cap and red sneakers stepped forward. Ice cream is free if youre part of the club, he said in a voice that sounded ten years too old for him. Its too bad Im not part of any club, said Daru, her lips frowning. What if I play you a song? And before any of the ugly kids could react, she was banging away on her drum, a fun little rhythm that grew in intensity until she started drumming on the empty metal ice cream drums, and then on the scoopers hanging on the wall. She drummed across the tables and then atop the plastic bowls stacked beside the freezer before returning to her drum where she twirled her drumsticks and daintily bowed. The kids couldnt help but applaud, even if they were unenthusiastic about it. The same red-capped child spoke up. You can have one scoop, two toppings. Help yourself. They stepped aside as Daru, ecstatic, grabbed a cone and served herself a scoop of double chocolate fudge, which she topped with rainbow sprinkles and cookie dough crumbles. What about you? a child demanded of the Obscure. I dont like ice cream, said the Obscure. I prefer desserts that dont come from a cows tit. The children chuckled. They appreciated the word tit. Their laughter wasnt friendly, by the way. It was like a movie villain laughing at a hero walking into a trap. Daru thanked the gang of young folks and then she and the Obscure continued to the tavern. As Daru ate the ice cream, her face getting covered in chocolate and sprinkles, she took the Obscure by his arm. Franklin must be really glad to get a new musician so quickly, she said. That guy who used to play the piano just took off this morning for no reason. Where did he go? I dont know. He just got in his Jeep and hit the main road. 10

Jeep, huh? The Obscure knew something was wrong with this picture. He knew there was something sinister about the children and the daily schedule. But he didnt have time to solve some stupid mystery of a town he couldnt give less of a shit about. He had a gig to play. * Demon Bluesman by Anthony Sotelo is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://theobscureshow.blogspot.com/
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