Hatchet For The Honeymoon

Here's a short scene out of the new novel. I promise to get something new tomorrow -- been working on this pretty much all the time, so I can't think about anything else.

Davey looks the main character in Hatchet for the Honeymoon -- a photographer/murderer who kills women the day before they get married as they model wedding dresses for his arty black and white shots. The photographer himself is married to an unattractive nagging woman he doesn’t love. Among his other problems include hiding bodies, developing pictures, what have you, he also has serious Anthony Perkins issues, and the finale consists of the man dressing up in a veil and gown himself and killing the wife while screaming, This is for you Mommy.

“How’s it going Davey?” I ask. “How was the library conference?”

“It sucked. If you can’t get laid at a library conference, there’s very few things you can count on in this grim slog we call life,” he said.

“Did anything exciting happen?” I ask, settling into a chair. The library looks exactly the same as when Daddy took me here every Saturday when I was little. I checked out all the astrology books and tried to analyze all my family and friends with them. When I got tired of that routine, I started checking out the books about ghosts, witches, and sermons by Cotton Mather which gave me nightmares. Mother made me promise to lay off the scary stuff, but I couldn’t keep my word. I loved what made me sick.

“Well,” he says, crossing his legs. “Me and Ivenetta and Josie were in this room with all these people drinking and all of a sudden this movie comes on cable where this man has this sheep as his lover and he has a special diamond collar made for the sheep and everything. I mean, I may have my idiosyncrasies, but nowhere do they involve sheep.”

I smile. Above Davey’s head on the far wall, there’s a laminated sign that says, “Reading Is Fundamental,” a literacy program from the seventies that makes me remember commercials from childhood and feel nostalgic. I refer to this as the Coppertone emotion -- the smell of that is summer and longing in a bottle.

“So I do have one important question,” I say.

“Yes,” he leans over conspiratorially.

“What are those wacky seniors reading for Mystery Week?”

“Oh you, you’re all business. I’ll give you a list.”

“I need a quote or something. I’ve got to make this article come alive, Davey,” I say, punching the air with my fist like Che Guevera.

Davey puts his finger to his lips. “When God closes a door, he opens a window.”

“What’s that from? Robert Schuller? Billy Graham?” I knew Davey dated a man that used to work with Daddy. His name was Michael, but he preferred to be called Carol Burnett and was even listed this way in the phone book. Daddy liked him, but couldn’t quite bring himself to call him Carol Burnett. To him, he’d always be Michael.

“The last personal ad I answered,” he says. “And what’s with you, dear? Anyone special?”

“No. Dating desert. I hope it changes.”

“Enjoy it. When you get involved, it gets sticky.”

“If you’re doing it right,” I say and we both laugh.

Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Doubt is not the opposite of faith; it is one element of faith." Paul Tillich

Cocktail Hour
Drinking memoir suggestion: Impossible Motherhood: Testimony of An Abortion Addict (plan on doing a post on this one in the future -- most disturbing book I have read in years and from me, that's saying something! The writing is quite good.)

Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Wednesday!