Thursday, January 30, 2014

Flash Fiction Friday: Trapped Aboard!

Another Wendig Challenge--a fairy-tale remix.  I had to cheat on this one.  Not only did I pick the fairy tale I wanted (which was within the rules), but I picked the sub-genre I wanted, since I just didn't feel like working with some of them, and had a lot of trouble figuring out how to take the story in other directions.  Then I ran over the 1000-word limit. I managed to cut it back to 1225, but any more and I'll lose the thread of the story.

I don't think the end result needs any explanation as to which tale or what sort of genre I used.

Trapped Aboard

Rapa wandered through the abandoned space station.  Only The Woman, who’d brought her there and hidden her long ago, had known she was there.  Now everyone was gone, and Rapa was trapped aboard.  The Woman had said that she’d come back to take her away.   Rapa didn’t know if she hoped She would come, or not.  She would die if left on the Station, of course.  But.

Rapa had spent a day finding a way out of the hidden room where she’d spent most of her sixteen years.  Then she had explored, as she’d never been able to when she was The Woman’s prisoner.

“You will let me in when I return,” The Woman had commanded before she left.  Rapa wondered if she would.  So many times she had unlocked the storeroom and let her in, these years as a captive.

She had been the tester for all The Woman’s potions and experiments and beauty products, and the only one that had worked was the one that counteracted one odd side-effect of weightlessness, and made her hair grow.  Once, all Spacers were bald, because hair wouldn’t grow in zero G.  Now, most sported close-cropped curls or a modest Mohawk, thanks to The Woman.  Thanks to Rapa. 

Rapa’s own hair dropped to her feet and beyond, or would have if there’d been any gravity to pull it down, rather than floating cloud-like about her.  If there had been gravity, the weight of all that hair might have broken her neck.

Rapa bore the scars of other, less successful efforts to make it big in the beauty industry.  The Woman had grown rich on the one success, and still she kept Rapa.

For years Rapa spoken to no one but The Woman.  When she had escaped her room at night and wandered the station, she had gone in terror of what would happen if she were found.  Now she turned on the comm unit and stared at the newsfeed that came up automatically.  Men and women came and went, talking of worlds unknown to her, but Rapa absorbed it all.

She didn’t know how long she watched, greedily taking in the life she’d never known.  It might have been hours or days.  It stopped because something interrupted the newscast.

The face of a young man came onto the screen, and spoke.  “Space Station Tower 1?  Is someone aboard?”

“Oh!” Rapa gasped.  She knew the man in the box spoke to her.  She was discovered.  The Woman would—

“Someone is there.”  He had heard her gasp.  “Please respond, Tower 1.”

The Woman had taught her to hide, as though it was to make her safe.  Rapa had long known that The Woman was evil and untrustworthy, and she had feared her since she was tiny, but that didn’t make all people evil.  The young man wore a concerned frown, but he looked kind.  “Come in, Tower 1,” he repeated.  “Please turn on the visual?”

“I—I don’t know how,” she said softly.

The man started.  “Who—who are you?”

The Woman had named her Rapunzel after the hair thing worked.  Rapa had shortened the name in her own mind.  “I am Rapa.  Rapunzel,” she added.

He gave a soft whistle.  “Rapunzel. . . and trapped in the Tower.”  He spoke almost as though to himself.  Then, to her, “The switch for Visuals is to the left below the vid screen.  Do you see it?”

She reached out and turned it on.
#
 Aboard the Starship ML King, William Prince drew a sharp breath.  A professional through and through, he schooled himself at once to a calm response and a face that gave nothing away, as he spoke of the need to get a rescue team to her.  But inside, Prince reeled.  So beautiful, and that amazing hair!  But the scars—on her hands, her arms, even her left cheek.  They marred her beauty only to emphasize it.

One thing the girl—Rapa—said jolted him back to full attention.

“She will be back.  The Woman said she would return for me.”

“When?”

“She didn’t say.”  She met his gaze.  “I do not wish to go with her.”

Prince heard himself saying, “I’ll be there first.  I must make preparations.  Leave this channel open, okay?”

She nodded.  “I have to go eat and—and things.”  She crimsoned and he nodded. 

“See the button labeled ‘call’?  If anything happens, press it and call for Starship King.  That’s where I am.”  He touched an emblem on his shirt, which she now understood to be a uniform.  “I’m Lieutenant Prince, William Prince.”

He reached toward the screen, and she could no longer hear him, though she watched him move away, and now she could also see that he was surrounded by other uniformed men and women, all busy.  She left to take care of her needs.
#
“Rapa?  Rapa, please come in.”

“I’m here,” she called eagerly.

“I am aboard the rescue vessel.  We’ll be there in a few hours.”

Tension flowed from the one to the other.  The Tower was scheduled to self-destruct in less than two days.  But Rapa’s mysterious Woman might return even sooner. 

An hour after her last comm with Prince, Rapa found The Woman standing before her.  And she knew that Rapa had revealed herself.  She had overheard the last communication with Prince.

“Come, girl.  We must leave at once.”  Her commands had never been met with anything but instant obedience.

“No.”  Rapa’s refusal stopped The Woman in her tracks.  But Rapa was no match for The Woman, and she knew it.  She turned and fled, but she was far less practiced at propelling herself through the tubes and halls.  Her only hope was to delay long enough for Prince to arrive, and to that end she twisted and dodged.
#
Prince felt a stab of fear when he saw the small vessel docked to the Tower.  The Woman had returned.  Still, she was still aboard.  He wasn’t too late.  Directing his pilot to remain aboard and prevent the other vessel from undocking, Prince left the 3-seater and cycled through the airlock.

He reached the cargo bay in time to see Rapa struggling with a tall, strong woman, who strove to force her into one of the cargo drones.  The long hair that had bound Prince to her from the first glimpse was being used now to imprison her.  She was wound in a cocoon of it.  Prince dove for the pair, tackling The Woman. 

She lashed out at him, slashing his face and his right eye.  Prince screamed in pain and fury, and managed one last, desperate blow that felled The Woman.  Staggering, he caught up Rapa, who shook herself free of her hair.  Together, they reached the cargo bay doors, and passed through.  Rapa closed the doors.  It might gain them a second or two.

“I’m—docked—airlock 2,” Prince managed.  He could see nothing.  His right eye, he was certain, was gone, the left swelling shut.  He let Rapa tow him, and only managed to issue the necessary orders to be readmitted to the rescue shuttle.

He had only one last order to give before he collapsed.  He could feel the soft hair brushing his face as she bent over him, stopping the blood.

“Destroy the other ship.  She must torment Rapa no more.”
###
 
(Just in case anyone wonders: Rapunzel, and Space Opera)

©Rebecca M. Douglass 2014

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

MG Review: Like the Willow Tree, by Lois Lowry

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Title: Like the Willow Tree: The Diary of Lydia Amelia Pierce, Portland, Maine, 1918. Dear America series.
Author: Lois Lowry
Publisher: Scholastic, 2011.  I used the audiobook by Findaway World, read by Elaina Erika Davis, also released in 2011.
Source: (Online) library.

Summary: 
This is a series familiar to most middle grade readers by now, I would guess.  The book is set up like a real diary of a girl from some interesting point in history, and like most recounts about a year.  Naturally, it's a pivotal year.  In this case, it is the year in which Lydia Pierce (11) and her brother Daniel (14) find themselves orphaned by the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918.  They must suddenly leave their home in Portalnd, Maine, and go to stay with their Uncle.  But he can't keep them--he has a large family and a poor farm, so he takes them to the Shaker community at Sabbath Day Lake.  Left in the orphanage at this unusual religious enclave, Lydia and Daniel have a lot of adjusting to do and a lot of learning.  

Review:
When I first saw the "Dear America" books, I nearly dismissed them as a gimmick, the sort of poorly written stuff you get in anonymous series like the later Boxcar children or Nancy Drew.  But on closer inspection (the early "Diaries" didn't include the name of the actual author on the cover as I see this one does), I realized that they were written by established writers of children's fiction, and took a closer look.  What I found were good, well-written stories, whose only formula was the diary structure (which admittedly is a bit forced--what kid would ever record such detail and explain so much along the way?).  Each book ends with a section of historical notes and pictures, telling more about the place and time in which the story is set--a history lesson I'll bet many kids are eager to look at after reading the stories.

Like the Willow Tree was a good story, and gave some interesting insights into a bit of history and a culture that not many know much about.  I had a sense of dissatisfaction with it, however.  Some of that was due to my general reaction to the Shaker religion (well, maybe any religion, but these folk had some odd ideas and the approach felt rather cult-like).  Lydia comes too rapidly, in my opinion, to accept this radical change in her life and the beliefs she is being handed.  Maybe that's realistic for an 11-year-old who's been through a lot of trauma, but I would have been happy to see her rebel a little more.  Again, maybe that comes from my belief that it's pretty hard to be happy in a society that completely separates males and females and allows not so much as a word between them.

Another small quibble was that the uncle who brought them--and says he'll try to visit occasionally (and genuinely seems to care and mean it) simply vanishes from the story.  Unless I missed something, he isn't even mentioned in the "Epilogue", a feature of all the Dear America books in which the author summarizes the rest of the characters' lives.  Since I did this as an audio book it's possible I missed something there.

Ms. Davis did a good job reading, but I admit to having found her voice a little grating.  That's a matter of personal taste, however, and the audio edition did offer one thing the printed book can't--the Shaker songs Lydia includes in her diary are actually sung so that one hears the tunes and gets a feel for them.  
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Full Disclosure: I borrowed Like the Willow Tree  from my (online) library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher in exchange for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

Monday, January 27, 2014

Book Review: Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls

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Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls, by David Sedaris.
2013, Hachett Audio, read by the author.

Summary: 
A collection of humorous essays on everything from French dentistry to Sedaris' rather bizarre childhood.  Adult content.


Review:
I like to listen to audio books while working out.  This time, I  had to stop running a time or two because I was laughing too hard to keep going.  Do I really need to say more?  No, but of course, I will.  (Note, the only other things that have made me laugh out loud in the middle of a workout have been NPR's quiz shows, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me and Says You).

In point of fact, while much of the book was laugh-out-loud funny, a few of these essays were a little squirmy-uncomfortable to listen to, even while being laugh-out-loud funny, notably the ones about his childhood and his youth.  Well, most of us would probably do well to forget most of our 20s, so I'll give him credit for at least turning them into something to laugh at.  The discomfort with the childhood essays comes from the nature of his family, which to me sounds dysfunctional and even abusive, though Sedaris assures us it wasn't.  Not abusive, anyway.  But from where I stand. . . wow.  I grew up in the same era, though on the other side of the country and in a different socio-economic class, so maybe we saw it a bit differently.  I guess if he can laugh at it, so can I.

Despite a few cringe-worthy moments, though, this goes down as one of the funniest books I've read (or listened to, which admittedly probably made it better, since his delivery is great) in a very long time.  Sedaris has a keen eye for the absurdity of the human condition, and the gift with language to make it all hilariously clear to us.

Plus: he almost makes me want to get that colonoscopy my doctor keeps nagging me about.

Almost.

Read it, or listen, if you are over the age of consent.

You know, I suddenly realize I found the owls, but don't remember diabetes coming up at all.  Did I lose track somewhere?  Or is Sedaris kicking back and enjoying another good laugh?
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Full Disclosure: I borrowed Let's Explore Diabetes With Owls from my (online) library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher in exchange for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."