Years of teaching for her, bringing now fruits.
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Barb Moore, Spy...
- Thread starter thehangingtree
- Start date
Any sentence with 'Messa' and 'Butt' in it is a good sentence.
He can be remarkably speedy when the occasion calls for it!
Compassion? Sentimentality?
Oh, Barb, you're great when you get emotional!
And so we see Barb has planned a little excursion to Stockholm...
Exciting and hard hitting chapter!
Thank you, Jolly, and great reply. Let's see what is going on...And so we see Barb has planned a little excursion to Stockholm...
Exciting and hard hitting chapter!
I know there is a ‘mole’ in PETS. There was no way I could have been caught this easily. I am determined to go bravely and maybe make some Nathan Hale-type statement. I wonder how ‘I regret I have but one life to lose for the freedom of women’ would go over? As I walk to the door I remind myself to stand straight and keep my head high. The guard opens the door and as I step through a huge cheer rises and I am confront with hundreds of people that have come to see me crucified! All the bravado I was going to display is gone and I hunch over and cover my breasts. I look around and at the bottom of the handicap access ramp stands Gunner holding my cross. I walk to the only ‘friendly’ face I know as the crowd shouts lewd remarks at me.
“You’re doing well, Barb” he assures me as he lifts the cross up and places it on my shoulder. I feel the wood. I guess it is a damn nice cross to have if one has to be crucified. It feels like it weighs as much as me. I have to drag this thing more than a mile? Gunner says “Around the corner you go through the gauntlet of reporters. They are going to shout every stupid and demeaning question at you that pops into their heads. Just walk through them and don’t answer them.”
“OK, thanks” I say. ‘OK thanks’ I think. Is that what you say to someone who is going to crucify you? Shit I don’t know! My mind is so clouded I try to just focus putting one foot before the other and blot out where each step is bringing me. I turn the corner and am grateful Gunner had warned me about the media. They do shout questions I wonder how they even thought up. I took Gunner’s advice and didn’t answer any one but I sure had answers in my head.
“Ms. Moore, do you think your sentence is fair?”
Fuck yes I just wish they could make it worse.
“Moore do you realize your execution is the first public execution since the last one in 1914?”
Damn the things they didn’t teach me in history class…
“Ms. Moore, how humiliating is it to carry your cross naked through town?”
This question catches me off guard. I stop for a moment and remember how brave I was going to be and instead cowered before the mob. I think I have a nice body but it is no longer mine to decide who sees it or what will happen to it. Yes, I think I am humiliated but am not going to let it show. I continue on.
Barb Moore
I watch Barb disappear into the scrum of the media. I toss my cigarette and start to climb into the F-350. Bull climbs in the passenger side while I reach around and grab the ticket from under the windshield. Without looking at it I wad it and toss it in the back seat. I pull out my flask and drain a pint of Seagram’s 7.
Bull says “Nice loaner truck, Tree; when is your AC going to be fixed?”
I start the truck and crank on the air conditioner. I put it in gear and say “The AC is fixed and this ain’t a ‘loaner’.”
Bull raises his eyebrows and says “I thought you were going to walk Barb up the hill.”
“Plans change” I say as I open the center console and pull out a fifth of Seagram’s and start chugging it as I drive north on 3rd Street toward the Riverview Recreational Area where Barb will be crucified.
“Boss, are you OK” Bull asks.
“Never better” I lie.
“You did it, didn’t you” Bull asks accusingly.
“Did what?”
“You always told us not to get emotionally involved with the ‘job’. Are you going to fuck up crucifying her?”
“Why don’t you shut the fuck up” I ask less than politely…
Tree
Uh oh! Fatal error there.
LOOK, IT'S ALL JUST THE JOB, RIGHT? YOU CAN'T LET FRIVOLOUS THINGS LIKE EMOTIONS GET IN THE WAY. IN THE END, THERE'S NO JUSTICE OR REPRIEVE, THERE'S JUST ME. WHETHER YOU CRUCIFY HER OR NOT, IT ULTIMATELY ALL TURNS OUT THE SAME. SHALL WE GO?
Something tells meUh oh! Fatal error there.
LOOK, IT'S ALL JUST THE JOB, RIGHT? YOU CAN'T LET FRIVOLOUS THINGS LIKE EMOTIONS GET IN THE WAY. IN THE END, THERE'S NO JUSTICE OR REPRIEVE, THERE'S JUST ME. WHETHER YOU CRUCIFY HER OR NOT, IT ULTIMATELY ALL TURNS OUT THE SAME. SHALL WE GO?
View attachment 521309
Now THAT is what I call writing!!!!
Tree ... that was terrific. The most poignant piece of writing I have ever seen you produce!
So deeply affecting that for once I have nothing snide, mocking, silly, teasing or complaining to say. Ain't that a first????
Really terrific. Bravo!
I am still gonna die on that cross, though, aren't I?
(If this turns out to be a tear jerker I want to milk it for all it's worth
)
I fear that is inevitable, Barb...
windar
Teller of Tales
OK, Tree, not hiking 15 miles up and down Mount Marcy, I get. But not walking up some piddling hill in Missouri? Think of your carbon footprint...
It's in Arkansas, I drove smelly diesel powered truck that is far bigger than I need yet the carbon footprint is far smaller than the hog farm a few miles down the road!!!
I make it through the media scrum and turn north on 2nd Street. The street is lined on both sides with spectators. Many make lewd comments as I pass. Some smile and point at me making comments I can’t hear. Others are there just to watch the spectacle of a naked woman dragging her cross to the first public execution in Arkansas in 103 years and the first (known) crucifixion in Arkansas ever. Only one seems solidly on my side. A nude woman steps from the side of the road holding a sign that say ‘Free Barbara Moore’ the ‘PETS’. She yells to me “I’m with you all the way, Barb!”
“Get out of here before being with me isn’t a figurative statement” I say to her as I drag the cross past her.
(original art by SJ)
The woman doesn’t even know I was convicted for being a spy for ‘PAWS’ not ‘PETS’! I think she was looking for publicity. I just hope she gets out of here before the IMF finds her!
The woman was not so lucky. She would be arrested and sentenced to 5 years at a breeding and milk farm.
I continue towards the park where I will be crucified. You may wonder why a rebel like me would agree to carry the implement of my death to my crucifixion. I could say I have the hulking huge black man escorting me and resistance would do no good but I know he is there more for crowd control and no one dares approach me. I was told if I didn’t carry it I would paraded bound and impaled in a cart.
Both would be adequate reasons to carry the cross but neither are why I am. The first reason is the morbid curiosity if I can do it. A mile and a quarter is a distance I can easily sprint. I run farther than that in my blue state- or I used to. It is different dragging a cross that weighs more than I on a hot day and barefoot. The asphalt looks smooth but with each step every imperfection vibrates up the stipe. The pavement is burning the soles of my feet. It is a sunny, hot, and humid day.
The other reason is Tree told me if I carry the cross I would expend energy that otherwise would extend my suffering on the cross.
He’s mad at me but I trust him. Again I wonder why it bothers me the guy that is going to nail me to this cross is upset. I get to the north end of Second Street and enter the park. I look over and see a vendor booth with a sign saying ‘Wragg’s Rotten Fruits and Vegetables’ and think this cannot be good!
There is only a quarter mile left to go. It’s on the running path so while I am no longer on the hot asphalt. The damage is done though. My torture feet now have to deal with the gravel strewn path with a bit of broken glass mixed in. Did I mention the last quarter mile is up a more than 100 yard tall hill? I Am determined to make it without falling and carefully place each step.
I was right about the Wragg’s ‘produce’ stand as I am pelted with rotten fruits and vegetables. Everyone but me seems to be having a good time.
The cross feels like it is shredding my left shoulder. I pause and ask Gunner to help me shift the cross to my right shoulder. The cross has worn me out. With one hand Gunner lifts the cross off my shoulder and swings it over my head. His massive bicep doesn’t even look like it is staining. I beg “Give me a minute, please!”
“Sure, are you doing ok, Barb?”
“Does it matter” I ask. “Give me the cross.”
I take it and climb the last 100 yards to my Golgotha. At the top of the hill I am met by Tree. Almost as if we rehearsed we say at the same time “I’m sorry for what happened down there.”
I don’t know why I apologized to my executioner or why he bothered to apologize to me. I ask Tree “Can we get this done before I lose my nerve?”
-Barb Moore, the sands of time running out…
Tree
“Get out of here before being with me isn’t a figurative statement” I say to her as I drag the cross past her.
(original art by SJ)The woman doesn’t even know I was convicted for being a spy for ‘PAWS’ not ‘PETS’! I think she was looking for publicity. I just hope she gets out of here before the IMF finds her!
The woman was not so lucky. She would be arrested and sentenced to 5 years at a breeding and milk farm.
I continue towards the park where I will be crucified. You may wonder why a rebel like me would agree to carry the implement of my death to my crucifixion. I could say I have the hulking huge black man escorting me and resistance would do no good but I know he is there more for crowd control and no one dares approach me. I was told if I didn’t carry it I would paraded bound and impaled in a cart.
Both would be adequate reasons to carry the cross but neither are why I am. The first reason is the morbid curiosity if I can do it. A mile and a quarter is a distance I can easily sprint. I run farther than that in my blue state- or I used to. It is different dragging a cross that weighs more than I on a hot day and barefoot. The asphalt looks smooth but with each step every imperfection vibrates up the stipe. The pavement is burning the soles of my feet. It is a sunny, hot, and humid day.
The other reason is Tree told me if I carry the cross I would expend energy that otherwise would extend my suffering on the cross.
He’s mad at me but I trust him. Again I wonder why it bothers me the guy that is going to nail me to this cross is upset. I get to the north end of Second Street and enter the park. I look over and see a vendor booth with a sign saying ‘Wragg’s Rotten Fruits and Vegetables’ and think this cannot be good!
There is only a quarter mile left to go. It’s on the running path so while I am no longer on the hot asphalt. The damage is done though. My torture feet now have to deal with the gravel strewn path with a bit of broken glass mixed in. Did I mention the last quarter mile is up a more than 100 yard tall hill? I Am determined to make it without falling and carefully place each step.
I was right about the Wragg’s ‘produce’ stand as I am pelted with rotten fruits and vegetables. Everyone but me seems to be having a good time.
The cross feels like it is shredding my left shoulder. I pause and ask Gunner to help me shift the cross to my right shoulder. The cross has worn me out. With one hand Gunner lifts the cross off my shoulder and swings it over my head. His massive bicep doesn’t even look like it is staining. I beg “Give me a minute, please!”
“Sure, are you doing ok, Barb?”
“Does it matter” I ask. “Give me the cross.”
I take it and climb the last 100 yards to my Golgotha. At the top of the hill I am met by Tree. Almost as if we rehearsed we say at the same time “I’m sorry for what happened down there.”
I don’t know why I apologized to my executioner or why he bothered to apologize to me. I ask Tree “Can we get this done before I lose my nerve?”
-Barb Moore, the sands of time running out…
Tree
Serious comments this time: Interesting mix of ideas and sentiments here, Tree. I think it works. There's that almost funny, surreal encounter with Wragg's fruit stand, counterpointing the seriousness of what's actually happening, and the strained emotions between "Tree" and Barb apologizing to each other. It's compelling and a bit painful at the same time.
Really well done!
Thank you
And I thought yesterday's was your best ever! I second everything that Jolly said above. I also note with pride and admiration how well you have captured my first person present tense writing style and done it one better! That's high praise from me. And as a final note, I liked the episode's exposure and exploration of thoughts and feelings, it's little sidelights (Gunner's sweet caring) and I especially loved the strained poignancy of the encounter between Barb and Tree at the end.
Bull and Gunner are worried that Tree is getting 'soft' (Tree flips them off) and Bull is also worried about Gunner...View attachment 521609 And I thought yesterday's was your best ever! I second everything that Jolly said above. I also note with pride and admiration how well you have captured my first person present tense writing style and done it one better! That's high praise from me.
And as a final note, I liked the episode's exposure and exploration of thoughts and feelings, it's little sidelights (Gunner's sweet caring) and I especially loved the strained poignancy of the encounter between Barb and Tree at the end.
Doesn't anyone give a damn about Barb?!?!?!
I do
My eyes have always been sensitive to bright light and I have worn sunglasses since my teens. As Barb stands before me with her cross on her shoulder I am relieved I wear them. No one can see the tears well in my eyes as I gaze on her sweat soaked body glistening in the sun. Proudly she says “I did it, Tree, and I didn’t fall!”
“You did good Barb” I affirm. “Are you ready?”
“No but let’s get this done” she says. Bull and Gunner take the cross and set it on three short sawhorses. Barb walks over and bravely and calmly straddles the stipe. She bends her knees, sits on the cross, and then lays back on it spreading her arms to offer them to be nailed.
“I did it, Tree, and I didn’t fall” I say hoping my voice doesn’t quiver. I am soaked in sweat both from my exertion carrying the cross and the hot, humid, and sunny day. Tree tells me I did well and asks me if I am ready.
“No but let’s get done” I say as walk to the cross that Bull and Gunner have set on sawhorses. It takes deliberate concentration to keep my knees from buckling as I walk. I step over the stipe and quickly sit on it before my legs give out. My head is spinning with fear. I lay back and spread my arms out over the crossbeam to steady myself. Hoping to hide that I am near panic I say “Tree get your thumb out of your ass and get me nailed to this damn thing or I am going to go home!”
Bull grabs my ankles while Gunner holds my right wrist to the cross. Tree tucks a towel between my thighs and covers my pubis before kneeling by my left wrist. I watch him pick up the first spike and say “Aren’t you a bit late worrying about my modesty?”
“I’m not worried about your modesty. That’s to keep you from pissing on Bull” he says as he centers my wrist over the wood. He presses the point of the spike between the bones of my wrist and tells me to close eyes. I do and say “Go ahead; I am rea…”
“I am rea…” Barb says but never finishes the sentence as my hammer drives the spike through her wrist and into the cross with the first blow. Two more hits and the spike is set to my satisfaction. As I move to her right wrist Barb is whining ‘oh shit, oh shit’. Again with the first blow her arm is pinned to the cross.
Gunner gets up and pulls the urine-soaked towel from Barb’s loins as Bull lets go of her ankles. As I finish driving the spike Barb starts screaming “Stop! Stop! Oh, please stop!”
Christ I can’t believe the pain! Oh shit they can’t be doing this to me! I look side to side at the thick nails that are driven through my wrists and fixing my arms to the cross. I see the spikes but really can’t comprehend what has happened to me. I wonder where Tree… “SSSSSSSHHHHIIITTT.”
The pain has clouded Barb’s mind she doesn’t notice Gunner and Bull stack one foot over the other and place them over the stipe. The first blow drives the spike through both feet and into the cross. The spike torn muscles, tendons, ligaments, and pushed bones aside as it passed through her top foot. Her bottom foot has similar damage plus two shattered bones.
I look down my heaving body and watch Tree swing the hammer towards the spike.
The RR Entertainment drone looks down as Tree nails Barb to the cross.
The nailing is done. I don’t know how long it took but I now lay nailed to the cross that I will die hanging from. Tree circles around as if to admire what he has done to me. I ask “Is it going to hold me?”
“That you can be assured of” he says as he lights a cigarette and take a long slug from a Seagram’s bottle.
“Are you on a union break” I ask.
“No, you get raised at 1 o’clock. You have a bit more than 5 minutes to catch your breath. I suggest you use it well.”
Don’t get me wrong; my feet and wrists hurt like hell but it is nothing compared to when the spikes were being driven through them. I look at Tree and say “I think one of feet is really fucked up.”
“I wouldn’t bet against that.”
“What’s so special about one o’clock? Do you think the governor might call and grant me a reprieve?”
“That’s as likely as it snowing here this afternoon. No Barb, it’s for the television network.”
I fall silent and ponder that I wait lying nailed to a cross to satisfy so network.
The minutes drag yet all too soon it is time. Tree positions himself at the base of the cross. Two goons in hoods raise the cross to their shoulder height. One of them asks “Tree what do we do now?”
Tree huffs “You get the fuck out of the way! Bull, Gunner; take over!”
There is a bit of jostling as they do but a moment later I see the horizon swing up before as the cross nears vertical. Tree tells me to clinch my teeth as I feel the cross start to drop into the hole…
“Fuck me to tears” I whisper as I come around. I am crucified! My shoulder ache like they never have before and the spikes torture my wrists and feet. I can feel my heart pounding in my stretched chest and breathing is real work! I look over my body assessing the damage done then Tree walks up. I groan “Tree, does this cross make my breasts look small?”
“No Barb you look beautiful!”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel good…”
Barb Moore –crucified
Tree
“You did good Barb” I affirm. “Are you ready?”
“No but let’s get this done” she says. Bull and Gunner take the cross and set it on three short sawhorses. Barb walks over and bravely and calmly straddles the stipe. She bends her knees, sits on the cross, and then lays back on it spreading her arms to offer them to be nailed.
“I did it, Tree, and I didn’t fall” I say hoping my voice doesn’t quiver. I am soaked in sweat both from my exertion carrying the cross and the hot, humid, and sunny day. Tree tells me I did well and asks me if I am ready.
“No but let’s get done” I say as walk to the cross that Bull and Gunner have set on sawhorses. It takes deliberate concentration to keep my knees from buckling as I walk. I step over the stipe and quickly sit on it before my legs give out. My head is spinning with fear. I lay back and spread my arms out over the crossbeam to steady myself. Hoping to hide that I am near panic I say “Tree get your thumb out of your ass and get me nailed to this damn thing or I am going to go home!”
Bull grabs my ankles while Gunner holds my right wrist to the cross. Tree tucks a towel between my thighs and covers my pubis before kneeling by my left wrist. I watch him pick up the first spike and say “Aren’t you a bit late worrying about my modesty?”
“I’m not worried about your modesty. That’s to keep you from pissing on Bull” he says as he centers my wrist over the wood. He presses the point of the spike between the bones of my wrist and tells me to close eyes. I do and say “Go ahead; I am rea…”
“I am rea…” Barb says but never finishes the sentence as my hammer drives the spike through her wrist and into the cross with the first blow. Two more hits and the spike is set to my satisfaction. As I move to her right wrist Barb is whining ‘oh shit, oh shit’. Again with the first blow her arm is pinned to the cross.
Gunner gets up and pulls the urine-soaked towel from Barb’s loins as Bull lets go of her ankles. As I finish driving the spike Barb starts screaming “Stop! Stop! Oh, please stop!”
Christ I can’t believe the pain! Oh shit they can’t be doing this to me! I look side to side at the thick nails that are driven through my wrists and fixing my arms to the cross. I see the spikes but really can’t comprehend what has happened to me. I wonder where Tree… “SSSSSSSHHHHIIITTT.”
The pain has clouded Barb’s mind she doesn’t notice Gunner and Bull stack one foot over the other and place them over the stipe. The first blow drives the spike through both feet and into the cross. The spike torn muscles, tendons, ligaments, and pushed bones aside as it passed through her top foot. Her bottom foot has similar damage plus two shattered bones.
I look down my heaving body and watch Tree swing the hammer towards the spike.
The RR Entertainment drone looks down as Tree nails Barb to the cross.
The nailing is done. I don’t know how long it took but I now lay nailed to the cross that I will die hanging from. Tree circles around as if to admire what he has done to me. I ask “Is it going to hold me?”
“That you can be assured of” he says as he lights a cigarette and take a long slug from a Seagram’s bottle.
“Are you on a union break” I ask.
“No, you get raised at 1 o’clock. You have a bit more than 5 minutes to catch your breath. I suggest you use it well.”
Don’t get me wrong; my feet and wrists hurt like hell but it is nothing compared to when the spikes were being driven through them. I look at Tree and say “I think one of feet is really fucked up.”
“I wouldn’t bet against that.”
“What’s so special about one o’clock? Do you think the governor might call and grant me a reprieve?”
“That’s as likely as it snowing here this afternoon. No Barb, it’s for the television network.”
I fall silent and ponder that I wait lying nailed to a cross to satisfy so network.
The minutes drag yet all too soon it is time. Tree positions himself at the base of the cross. Two goons in hoods raise the cross to their shoulder height. One of them asks “Tree what do we do now?”
Tree huffs “You get the fuck out of the way! Bull, Gunner; take over!”
There is a bit of jostling as they do but a moment later I see the horizon swing up before as the cross nears vertical. Tree tells me to clinch my teeth as I feel the cross start to drop into the hole…
“Fuck me to tears” I whisper as I come around. I am crucified! My shoulder ache like they never have before and the spikes torture my wrists and feet. I can feel my heart pounding in my stretched chest and breathing is real work! I look over my body assessing the damage done then Tree walks up. I groan “Tree, does this cross make my breasts look small?”
“No Barb you look beautiful!”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel good…”
Barb Moore –crucified
Tree
windar
Teller of Tales
Tree, let me say that while it's a topic that doesn't appeal to me, this episode and the previous one show fine writing and real depth of character in how you have presented yourself in the story. I appreciate ambiguity in situations and people much more than "Here's this bad guy and here's this poor innocent" and have tried to include ambiguous characters in my more serious stories. Real life is ambiguous. Real people are a mix of good and bad. I salute you for trying to present that and succeeding.
And your invitation to Story Discussion stands ready for you to accept if you wish. We almost never discuss politics there. Mostly stories and things happening in real life, which in my case has been quite significant in recent days.
And your invitation to Story Discussion stands ready for you to accept if you wish. We almost never discuss politics there. Mostly stories and things happening in real life, which in my case has been quite significant in recent days.
In this case, I know, it is true. You look very beautiful on the cross!