Friday, July 06, 2007

307. The Yul Interview (Part 1)

Interview with Yul (from Earth)

T: Thanks for taking the time to talk with us this morning.

Y: No problem. What's up?

T: I wanted to ask you about the time when Rog returned from the mission to rescue Bravo and--(notices strange look on Yul's face). What?

Y: Go on.

T: You sure? You seem--

Y: Like a girl in the bathroom who hears a door open and a stranger walks in?

T: (smiles) Well, more like a girl in the bathroom who sees the stranger and doesn't break eye contact but instead sits upright, chest out, eyes wide, lips slightly parted with a Mona Lisa smile.

Y: (laughs out loud) You know, I would frail you, how do you say it, just to be clear, and I would frail you right now (Yul seductively slides her spear-like blue tongue over her glistening upper lip, and her eyelashes, or so it seemed, swayed like palm trees in a gently breeze, glimmering and sparkling like the surface of the turquoise ocean they guarded and longed to reach.). What do you say? Be our little secret. Rog doesn't have to know.

T: You know, you don't really have to try so hard (deliberate pause), to avoid the subject. Just say you'd rather not discuss the matter. I understand if you don't (shifts position).

Y: (laughs again, her eyes dropping, starring) Seems I'm not the one avoiding the question (winks). It's getting a little warm. Do you mind if I take my shirt off? (starts to unzip her blouse, slowly, tilting her head without breaking eye contact)

T: (stares at her perfectly polished nails delicately and slowly pulling his eyes south with the metal enclosure, the valley of her feminine charm, fertile as fields before mountains, opening as flowers on the dawn, only the lush green replaced with an exotic, mysterious blue cast)

Y: (with a slight pout) The zipper seems to be stuck. Would you be so kind as to assist.

T: (smiles wide) Yul, perhaps we should continue this interview another time.

Y: Another time, yes (pulls the zipper back up). Now, what was your question?

T: You sure you want to do this?

Y: Oh, I want to do this. The question is, do you?

T: You're enjoying this, aren't you?

Y: Like a cat with a ball of yarn. But I am making (drops her tone), things difficult for you.

T: No, not at all.

Y: Really? (looks down) To get the truth you must be willing to give it.

T: (turns to his aide) Turn the camera off and leave us.

Y: Thank you.

T: Do you want to interview or frail?

Y: Why does it have to either/or?

T: (bursts out laughing) Touché.

Y: Business before pleasure. Ask your first question.

T: After the operation, when you woke and you knew you were still alive, walk me through what you felt, what went through your mind.

Y: (sighs) You really know how to turn a girl on don't you (her eyes water and her lids drop; she reaches out and touches his arm with her nails).

T: We can stop at anytime?

Y: No, I want to answer this question. Just not easy to go back there. Sometimes the past is best left in the past.

T: Easier said than done.

Y: True. Pain. That was the first thing I remember, the intense pain. I learned later their pain meds didn't quite work as they should on our alien nerve centers. Every movement hurt. Breathing hurt. Laughing hurt. Lifting my head hurt. Moving my arm hurt. But none of those things hurt as much as waking up, in that white room, alone.

T: Was Mairi not there?

Y: No. After the operation, she went back to her quarters to get cleaned up, to recover, and I suppose that is when Trev appeared. At the time I didn't know why Mairi was not there. I had no idea the trouble Trev had gotten himself in nor the extreme guilt Mairi felt, undeservedly, in my opinion, but then again, who am I to judge the burden another picks up, right? (laughs)

T: Can you describe the loneliness?

Y: You're alive. A miracle has occurred. And you want to die. As painful as the surgery was, it was the moon to the sun of my mental torment. I suppose I was primed to feel sorry for myself. As I think you know, I was never "the one." My sister (Yul pauses), can we take a break?

T: Sure.

Y: (wipes her eyes) Never mind, I'll push ahead. My sister was the one. She got everything. I was passed over so many times, the scars, well, if I told you even today they were completely healed, I would by lying. So when I woke up and there was no one there, well, I slipped into an emotional free fall. Not exactly what the doctors wanted to see.

T: Keep going.

Y: (takes a deep breath) I knew Rog had made a choice to be elsewhere but I was not expecting neither Mairi nor Trev to be absent. I was angry, resentful, bitter, scared. I didn't understand why they weren't. I mean, how could they not be there! Frail, for Janus' sake. How could they not be there! So you want to know what I felt. I felt frailing pain like you will never understand. Think of it this way. Imagine you walk into a bank and you present your life as a deposit and the banker looks over your portfolio and starts laughing. You ask him why he is laughing and he says there is nothing here. Imagine that. Your life is deemed worthless by those who know you best. You are on your deathbed and your lover leaves you. You go under the knife and when you wake your other two friends are not there. Do you have any idea, any frailing idea what it is like to wake in an alien hospital, attended to by aliens, your mind is drugged, you are disoriented, in pain, severe physical pain and they are whispering in a language you can't understand while taking sideways glances at you, and there you are, rejected again, abandoned again, told, not with words, but with actions, that you don't count. You want to know what went through my mind? I'll frailing tell you. I thought of Mairi and Trev sitting in the sun having a leisurely breakfast and talking nonsense about what they were going to do that day without my name ever coming up. And then I thought about Rog, jacking off, and you know what. He wasn't thinking about me. He was thinking about Kyra, about Em, in his quarters, wailing away. That's what I frailing thought. And then I thought, frail them all. Just frailing frail them all. You know what I mean?

T: I had no idea.

Y: (Yul looked at him hard) Frail you.

T: Pardon?

Y: I don't need your false sympathy. If you want to continue this interview I need you to be real, just speak the truth, otherwise we've got nowhere to go.

T: (sighs) Look, I understand the events, the time line. I meant I have no idea what it must have been like to be you at that point, not that I didn't know there was pain.

Y: Oh, my bad. Won't be the last time I put my foot in my mouth. Promise. Make it up to you later.

T: Don't worry about it. So when did you know Rog was on his way to see you?

Y: About five minutes before he walked in the door but I don't think that is what you're asking is it.

T: Not really.

Y: Since the moment I slammed the phone against the wall and broke it into a thousand pieces, all I could think about was that moment when he returned and what I would say. Keep in mind, I had ample time prior to the operation to stew and mull and that soup burned under the blazing fire of eminent death. Not even Mairi knew she was capable of pulling off what she did. I could see the look in her eyes, same for the doctors. There was no light, no hope. The surgery, at best, was going to be a living autopsy. I was their plaything. Not of their kind. What the frail did they care whether I lived or died. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn they looked eager to open me up. Anyway, so before the operation, my emotions were running so strong, not thinking, but knowing I was going to die, and I was obsessed with how I could somehow pay that little frailer back for abandoning me. I mean what the frail. I'm frailing dying and he runs off to save someone else. Stop and think about that for a second. Put yourself in my shoes. How would you feel?

(to be continued)

33 comments:

Autumn Storm said...

Frailing perfect!

Autumn Storm said...

(tbc)

Trée said...

What can I say. I woke up, poured a cup of coffee, placed my new laptop in my naked lap (I do have a lap-rest,lol) and before my mind was fully awake, the interview with Yul just kinda spilled out. This is one of those chapters that I don't feel as if I write it as much as release it. Can you tell I like interviewing Yul? :-D

Mona said...

& I have experienced that too...Moments of such poison that turns one blue...serpentine blue.You feel it crawling under your skin, moving with sinous rhyme,It fills your entire form, branching out... from your heart,into your limbs..distorting their shape, & finally it reaches your mind.

Bitterness is natural, hate is natural too, so are the negative feelings...They spill out in everything you say, everything you do...make others shrink from you...

You want to reach them, but the poision from you reaches them faster..& before you know, they flee...

You want to love them...love them with every pore of your being...only they close themseves up...behind white doors...shut so tighty...

& you wish to become a diabolic windrush to which they might give in...You feel forces unseen gather you like dust from all sides and raise your feelings to a climax a crecendo.. you rise , but not like the waves of ocean; you rise like dry sand in a storm.. a huge wave of dry sand... which shall eventually collaspe at its own feet spreading out your pain out in zillions of grains... undissolveable...

Yuls operation sounds like proselytising... from one insanity to another...

Demons are not one but many...each ready to replace the other in her being even as one is removed...it is layered.. her form...multilayered pain, scratch the surface & you will see the clots of dreams throbbing...

Reminds me of what I once wrote as I felt it..

Everynight
My bedsheet gets soaked in blood..
Everynight
As I examine my dried darkened wounds
I peel the crust with my nails...
With the scabs coming off comes the fresh odour of blood...

Everynight
he puts his weight on me and makes love
Till I am shattered and splintered
A sob a sigh escapes my lips
& he all spent & satisfied says..
Awww.. gather yourself...
gather these bones & I shall tie them with a rope
& even if the rope unties
I shall tie them again tomorrow night
... in fact each night to come...
......................
cast away these sighs
for snakes live in them...
come, give me a kiss for
I am immune to your poison
...................
& so I have gathered them
each memory.. each wet thought..
The bitch the whore.. those mortals you called me...I have immortalised
in this bundle of poetry...

LOL Ironic... I lost the bundle some time ago...& this is like again gathering the forgotten lines... I am not able to gather much but some traces...

Like a broken song on a breath which is about to soon cease...

Trée said...

Mona, I read your words and I feel as a child standing in the shadow of an adult. I hear your cries and I listen to your stories and I like to pretend I understand, but in the end, I'm just a child living in a childlike world and the pain and poison and bitterness are but words to play with. I'm stretching things a bit here, but I do feel from what you write that you have a world of experiences beyond my own, a world of images and emotions deep and textured, ingrained and branded that are never far from reminding you that they are you.

When I read a comment like this, I want to know more, to read more, to experience more. I want, as I have said before, to see into your eyes when you remember these things. I want to taste the nuances of your articulation and take the measure of your brow. I want to see your hands, your fingers and what part they play in the telling. I want to know what questions you have for me. I want to know how you see me and I want to know if you smile or laugh or cry or all or none.

I am completed enraptured with your use of language and the power of the images you paint with words. You choose words that are fresh to me, words I forget are there, and you paint scenes and stories and images so vivid, so real that I can easily forget I'm reading you and not watching your movie. And, well, I want to swim in you, to comb my fingers through your soul, to breath the air you breath, to know what you know.

Thank you my dear Brilliant, Bright and Beautiful friend for giving me the most precious thing you have--your time. :-)

Stargazer said...

Very intense, highly charged emotions in your latest chapters. I just read the last few, and thoroughly enjoyed your writing (as usual). You've got me held captive here!

BTW - I really like your commentaries. It's a great personal touch :)

Trée said...

Deb, as always, thanks for the very kind words. I'm really enjoying the commentaries and I appreciate the feedback. I'm thinking of doing a who's who commentary to get everyone up to speed on the characters, not to mention a refresher for myself since the only place these guys exists in on this blog and in my mind. :-D

Hope you and Wontar are surviving the intense heat out West. I'm heading out that way on Sunday, but afraid most of my time will be spent inside an air-conditioned hotel.

Autumn Storm said...

The extent to which she is able to relive events past indicate just how painful they were, how hurt and how bitter she felt at the time. So much so she had survived and wanted to die. So much that she felt worthless. How well she articulates what she felt, her acrid thoughts about what Mairi, Trev and Rog might be doing while they are not there, showing her that they do not care enough for her to be there. The worst thing is, that given her past, deep down she would have been wondering, and perhaps not that deep, whether they were right, whether she just isn't, as she was let to believe many times before, that she just isn't worthy of that kind of love and care.
The Interview style was a genius choice for a little more insight into what was going through Yul's mind at the time. It allows us in in a way that anything that happens in real time can, anything she said or did back then. Looking back, she is able to see the events, her reactions, other people's actions knowing them now for what they were then, as much as is possible, having had ample time to compartmentalize the emotions, to forgive, to understand, to learn, to grow, and whatever else she needed to do and has done since. A much clearer, more rational, less emotional - in as much as the emotions are owned now, she knows what they were and why - picture of what was going through her mind is what we get by way of this method that we would not be able to get were we back with her where she is at now. Good to see Yul back on Earth firstly to know that she gets back there along with Rog and Kyra, and secondly to know that she hasn't changed one bit (in some favourite respects at least) from her usual sassy self. Artful, brilliant, perfect, loved it.

Trée said...

Sunshine, thanks for the very kind words. All I could think of this morning, other than gummi bears in the shower and why I wanted a scotch at 8am, was Yul taking her shirt off. It wasn't so much her taking her shirt off, I've seen her naked before, but how she was doing it. I wish you could have seen what I saw. The way she held her head, the way her eyes sparkled with an exotic, mature lust, the feminine way she moved her hands and held her long fingers, the subtle parting of lips and the not so discrete playfulness of tongue, the way she held her posture, her upper body and the curve of her neck to accent her flowing green and purple and gray hair. I was just this short of heaven. :-D

Karen said...

Yowza! Yul is a wee bit angry! I can't blame her at all but I hope, in time, she can understand Rog's position. I loved the interview style too. I think I know where this is going and it's not the way I hoped it would ;-)

Trée said...

Karen, you are a real trooper working your way back to the top of the story. You've earned one free shower with Jack. :-D

I'm still not certain what Yul is going to say next in the interview. Part of me is having a hard time concentrating knowing what I know about Yul and those blue tits. :-D

Time will tell, so stay tuned Karen. I think the water is about right if you are ready. I know Jack is. :-)

Karen said...

Yes, you know I'm ready ;-) I'll be right there!

Just one shower? I think we'll need more than that.

Trée said...

You know, I'm not going to argue with more than one shower. Does that cabin in the mountains have a good shower? I good shower head is very important. Not any head will do. ;-)

Autumn Storm said...

Happy day ahead, sweet stuff, when you get that far, xo
And take care of yourself out west. :-)

Trée said...

Thank you Sunshine. Good luck with the move and try and keep dry. :-)

Anonymous said...

:) thank you. Thank you so very much.

I have more to say but I have to get ready to go. Big hugs, Tre'e....and sweetgummybearscotch flavored kisses.

Trée said...

Grace, you are more than welcome. While you are at the wedding I think I'm going to the store. I'm going to buy a pack of gummi bears and a bottle of scotch and then I'm going to turn on some music, close my eyes and let your words wash over me as waves on the beach, each one warming me, cleansing me, invigorating me, stirring within me life and energy and passion and lust. Now when the lady at the checkout line looks at me funny when she sees the smile on my face when I purchase my gummi bears, you'll know why. :-D

Have a great time at the wedding. I regret not being able to take you to the reception. :-)

Karen said...

There's only room for one in the cabin shower, darn it... the strong suit is the fireplace.

Anonymous said...

((( Tre'e )))) It's such a hot humid California evening here.... hope you like the heat!

Ah, the 'reception'....do you dance? If so, we'd be soaked to the skin now, and I wouldn't want to wait a minute to grab the goodies, shimmy out of our sticky clothes, and jump into that shower. It would be perfect.... the water just a few degrees cooler than our skin, bringing instant relief and gooseflesh and sighs. There's something about the way it cascades over the back and sides of my neck ....

We can lay, wet, in front of the fan - eating other gummy bears, listening to the blues (do you like blues?) and sipping scotch. And as the world spins gently underneath us, you can tell me more about 'wholeness'.. how to find it, and how you've come to this place where you now stand in life.

Yul definitely has the right idea. And I can't wait to see what you do with her next...or is that, what she does to you?

Trée said...

G, I prefer heat to cold. I grew up in Louisiana, so heat, a humid heat is something I'm very accustomed to enduring, and enduring heat is about how you do it. I cycle and I would much prefer to cycle in the heat than the cold. I like to sweat. I like a sweaty body, wet and glistening, and like my margarita's, a bit on the salty side. And I do like to lick the salt like a cow in heat. :-D

If I had taken you to the reception, I'm not sure how long we would have stayed past the cutting of the cake. Then again, if there was an open bar, well, maybe a dance or two or three. I might have even had a couple gummi bears in my pocket.

As for the shower, I hear the water running, candles lit, breathing expectant, clothes in a tangle of confusion, shoulder blades on walls, lips soft, moist, wet, firm. Eyes brilliant and soft, soft with desire, bright with lust, wide with hunger. Fingers lace, dance on sweaty flesh, touching, caressing, massaging, exploring as teenagers in the backseat. I push you against the wall, your blouse half open, cleveage inviting, heaving as swells on the moody ocean, my cheek touches yours and I hold you tight, feeling your body against mine, soft and hard, wet and dry, and then I feel the pulse of your heart knocking on my pecs.

My hands take your face in my educated palms. Our lips touch, lightly and I can feel your pulse steady as my hands trace the curve of your back, massaging stress from muscle to finger, pulling you into me. Kiss me G. Grab my hair and kiss me.

Ooooh, I need some of that scotch now. :-D

Trée said...

G, I am most enamored with the aesthetic of Wabi Sabi, or the perfection of imperfection. I like my edges rough. If life were a baseball mitt, I want mine old and soft and broken in. I like pain as much as pleasure for one balances the other and both are impostors of the conceptual mind, jesters vying for my attention, so I dance with them both equally. In fact, I enjoy crying as much as laughing, I enjoy beer and wine, but my coffee has to be black. A man must have his limits. :-D

I like compassion and nonjudgmental acceptance of "what is." As I said in my comment, I want the full meal, not just dessert. I want the tears and the scars, I want the bumps and bruises, as well was the smiles and laughs, the kisses and loving caresses. I want to hold a whole person, a person willing to be held. I want that aura of trust, not a fantasy of forever, but a here and now trust that in this moment, this is all there is, now. I want total and complete surrender to that moment. I want to look into a lovers eyes and know they are in that moment with me, that time is just a concept, that finger were meant to touch and hold and that lips were designed to give and receive pleasure without agenda.

Okay, I need another scotch or maybe just a good slow firm warm hand. :-D

Anonymous said...

LOL And I like my coffee just like I like my men - with the works ;)

Trust...the ultimate aphrodisiac..the ultimate surrender...the ultimate bond. Your description is perfect. There is nothing of worth I can add to it other than I hope that you have opportunity to experience that to your heart's content.

It's a delightful thing to know you'll be sharing the same timezone for a few days...vayo con dios, Tre'e....may the angels guide you safely to your destination and back.

Trée said...

Excellent! When we run out of sugar and cream you won't be able to blame me. I like my women like my coffee, strong and uncomplicated. If I can't find that, then tight and taut and not know too much will work too. :-D

Anonymous said...

:) Maybe you should pack that suitcase for a longer stay!

I have a baseball mit you might be interested in. It's soft with age, limber and will formfit against your palm. With a bit of rubbing with some oil, it'll fit your hand perfectly.

What happens when the coffee runs out too?

Trée said...

Oooh G, I like the sound of that mitt. I'd say a little oil, a bit of rubbing with some long, hard, deep strokes and the fit will be just right.

Well, first of all we don't let the coffee run out, but if it does, I suggest you do everything in your power to distract me first thing in the morning. I can be distracted. :-)

Longer stay? How close are you to the beach? I'm a sucker for the ocean and sand. :-)

Anonymous said...

Hummmm, the beach is 30 minutes away. But in case being distracted it too much fun and we never make it there, I do have a little shell that, if you press it against your ear, you'll be able to hear the ocean. We'll have to see if it tastes like salt a little too, when you lick it! :-D

Hey, will you be writing more chapters while you're gone?

Trée said...

G, I've been known to find inspiration on the flight out West, so there is a chance I could write a chapter or two today and post them tonight. I arrive into Irvine around 4 this afternoon and should have some free time tonight. The rest of the week (my main summer National Meeting) will be time consuming and potentially emotionally draining. We meet all day and have dinners planned every night so the only free time I'll have is a bit during lunch (maybe) and a bit before dinner and a bit more after dinner. In other words, not sure we will see a new chapter until I get back but I have been thinking of doing some video summaries, perhaps one or two on the story as a whole and then perhaps a series on the main characters--those would be easy to do without requiring creative energy. What do you think? Would seeing some summaries on the story and the who is who be worthwhile for you? It's okay to say no. :-)

On the other hand, I will be checking blogs each night, so although we might not have a new chapter this week, I'll still be visiting and commenting, so I won't be gone totally (unless by some strange reason my new Mac doesn't want to connect to the hotel's wireless service--if you don't see me online that will be the only reason).

You know, on second thought, I'm not sure I really need to see the beach after all considering the potential distraction and the fact that you have that shell. Stock up on oil. I want to make sure I knead, carefully, with care and attention, slowly, that mature, aged, educated, historied, beautiful mitt. Nothing like a tight fitting glove on the hand, the warmth, the snugness, the aroma, the sound of balls slapping against hide and of course the sight, the sight of aged leather, with all its glorious wrinkles and creases and marks of times past, each a story unto itself, each worthy of studied examination by eye and nose and perhaps even my agent of feminine ecstasy, lightly connecting past and present.

Morning dear. Coffee? I've got sugar and I think I know where the cream is too. Would you like some cream in your coffee too? I'll make the effort if you do. :-)

Anonymous said...

LOL :) I quickly checked back in this morning before I head out to yoga, but I work in Irvine. If I were in the office today, I could wave your plane in...!!!

(*sigh*) That's what I want, Tre'e...exactly that. You nailed it perfectly. Too early for scotch, but "Cheers" to US, sweet friend. May we each get to play some ball soon!!

xoxoxo

Trée said...

G, after much consternation, I have arrived in beautiful Irvine sound and safe. I am always amazed at how nice the weather is. The breeze is to die for as too the blue skies and sun.

If you've got the mitt, I've got the ball. A little exercise is always a good thing. And, of course, afterwards, is the shower. You should see the mirrors they have in this room. Just think of me grinning as wide as I can right now. :-D

Oh, an a chapter did come to me on the flight. With a little luck I'll transfer from paper to screen. :-)

Anonymous said...

((( Tre'e ))) I'm so glad you're here safely! Not being much of a flyer myself, I breathe a sign of relief.

YES - it's been gorgeous here today! Just got home from a wine tasting down in Huntington Beach, and lunch at the pier :) California at it's finest!

Can't WAIT to read the next chapter..and me? Well, I've been grinning so much now that my cheeks hurt...Your smile is like a tsunami of pleasure to see :)

Trée said...

Grace, you do know how to make me smile. Sounds like you had a wonderful day. Did you swallow? The wine that is. And how is the mitt tonight? If you need a little oil, to help you sleep, email me. I might have some lying around here somewhere. :-)

Anonymous said...

LOL Swallowed every drop, of course. Would you expect less?

ah, your invitation is ultimately tempting. I'm sure you could easily be nominated for MVP. Only thing is, I keep my game for the home team...and have to appreciate the visitors from the other side of the bleachers :-)

xoxox

Trée said...

You know, they always say it's tough playing on the road. Fans are so loyal. :-D