04 July 2007

Change Your Pants

Jeannette Langmead Illustration Sketchblog

I wet the bed. But I justified it because I knew Liz and I had talked about bed wetting the day before, and topics like that can seep into one's subconscious. I tried to get up but I was stiff and both my hands were numb. Owl Skunk took it upon herself to help me out of bed by pulling my left foot. This is the first useful thing she's ever done I thought.

And then explosions. My windows shook and all the life came back into my body, I opened my eyes and popped up. I felt between my legs; dry. It was a dream. But the banging continued.

In a situation like that your adrenaline gland kicks in. I stumbled out of my bedroom and went up and down the hall, looking for a soul as desperate as I was. Bang! I made my way downstairs in the dark expecting to see my family gathered around the television or maybe a radio, the way I imagine families in London spent their time this week, after the news of terrorist plots and multiple attempted car bombings. Nobody. Bang!

The basement? Had they sought refuge in the stone room under our house? I wondered if they brought supplies with them. Bang! Was Grandpa out right now fighting some lunatic for the last gallon of 2% milk at 7-11? More importantly, why didnt they come get me? Maybe when I moved in here seven years ago they forgot to write my name on the emergency checklist. Or perhaps with kindness they thought they'd let me sleep through it all, and spare me the trouble of trying to survive. This is what I get for announcing I dont believe in god at dinner last Thursday.

But the basement was empty. The whole house was. "I slept through a fucking mass evacuation!" I yelled. I went out to the driveway to find the cars still in their spots. There smell of fire was in the air. Maybe George W. Bush brought in buses? This is a white neighborhood so I could see him taking the extra trouble.

Just as I began to take out a cigarette and accept my fate as ash not-unlike that I was inhaling I heard a voice from down the street screaming, "Jen! Jen!" It was a little voice. Multiple little voices chimed in. "Jennnnnn!" All I could see was little glow sticks and and army of flashlights making their way down the the dead end road. Remy broke from the crowd and ran up to me. "Jen did you see the fireworks?"

9 comments:

Auntie Mim said...

Yup - the 4th can be scary! Congrats on Japan - how long will you be there?

Rrramone said...

Jeannette, this was wonderful! You gots some mad writin' skillz!! :-)

Jon said...

this is great. I knew you had great writing skills, as i was reminded a couple of weeks ago. I was reading one of your old comic books you made, i think the Jimmy Jane Says Pre-book #1. You know the story where Jimmy thinks Jon has killed himself. That's a great story, too.
Happy United States of Day

Annie said...

Loving the blog! Thanks for the INF invite too.

Annie said...

Err... That is, IFN. Damn Blogger and its lack of comment editing.

Switchsky said...

You know what they say,

"change your pants, change your life."

biteyourowntail said...

Jeanette, that is so well written. Not had the pleasure of reading such an extended piece of prose of yours before, please, keep it up.

I must seek out your comics...

I also love the drawing.

my heart is made of gravy said...

You need the SSRIs and you need them FUCKING WELL NOW!

esillustration said...

hey owlskunk, why didnt you wake her up earlier so she could have seen the fireworks with me? hmm?