Author: Ken Beck

Ken Beck is a musician, writer, and media specialist. He has had an extended career as a musician in dance, a composer, and a teacher. He has a passionate interest in historical audio devices, especially late 19th century recording techniques. He is an amateur radio operator, KD9NDJ. He is a record collector, owns a home with a fireplace, and is married to DeLann Williams. He is a keeper of two cats.

21. Whispers in the Dark

Julian spent some time reading his last attempt at a novel, and came away depleted. It was as if the book had sucked the life out of him without becoming alive itself. It was a black hole of fictional death. That being the case, it was more fun to check out the doings on “Amy Tells All.” Now that they had made contact, he could legitimately see himself echoed in her prose. He felt completely enraptured by the idea that she thought his presence in her life was miraculous. He turned his attention to crafting a bauble of equal froth, but in his own way. He was not sure that he succeeded. He mused about the fact that his novel was a pile of shit. If that amused her, it seemed to him, she’d take him as he truly was. He posted it. By the time he got back downstairs again, Dana was passed out on her couch. He looked around for the schweinebraten recipe, so that he’d know when it was done and take it out. He couldn’t find anything. Dana was working from memory on this pig roast project. He googled it. ‘Take it out ahead of the…

22. Christmas Eve Party

Lana spent the next morning shopping around town for gimcrack gifts to take to the Christmas Eve Christmas party at the Millers. This was a tradition with them that this party would happen at one home or another of their gang. The gang this year included the Roiters, the Millers and the Sibleys as well as the Andrews. In the early afternoon she brought her usual flair to the wrapping. She calligraphed little notes with her pens and her inks, and her little poems summed up the friendships and the year nearly vanished. Scott was out at the airstrip, working on orders and maintenance. He usually left her to deal with the holiday chores. Every now and then, he’d surprise her and come up with some outlandish decorating idea, usually involving fireworks or electronics. One year, he’d jimmied the head lolling white wire reindeer to periodically work in double time. Every time it happened while he was looking out the window, he’d laugh like a child. She cherished such memories, as they dwindled and became fewer and farther between. He’d become a business automaton of late, trying to break his personal records, and, as he put it, trying to ‘make…

23. A Pair of Lovers, Husbands and Wives

On Christmas Eve, Julian and Lana partook of the rescued sweinebraten and Julian concocted a massive salad. They sat across from one another in their decorated dining room, feeling the joy of each others presence, looking forward to the exchanging of their presents, and feeling somewhat proud of one another that they had held off on the demon rum long enough to prepare and eat supper. It was about five thirty in the afternoon. The sun had just settled down out of sight, leaving the colors and twinkles that draped around their tree to bathe them in a mercurial flicker. The ancient electric chandelier was dimmed, and its orange glow hovered over them. “A toast,” Julian offered, raising his familiar jelly glass. “To you and me forever, and another year together.” “I’ll drink to that.” “‘It’s my first one today.’” “Indeed.” The language they spoke among themselves was full of quotes and allusions. These two helplessly verbal people had too much vocabulary and reading under their belts for ordinary humans, their neighbors, for example, to make heads or tails of them, unless they made a serious effort to clean it up and communicate. They were capable of this; when neighbor…

24. Facebook Friends

Lana remained in the bedroom for an inordinately long time, feeling like a scolded teenager, and resenting the feeling. Scott’s dangled carrot of conciliation was just that: a carrot. He had not offered any sort of autonomy; he had only issued his usual demand in sugarcoated form. Eventually, she dressed in pajamas and went downstairs. Scott was on the sofa reading the same brochure he’d been reading earlier. Nothing had changed between them, nothing had happened. If she was going to feel like a slut, she might as well do it with someone who appreciated her and spoke the King’s English. She would have emailed Julian immediately, but she couldn’t. ‘Why was that?’ she fumed to herself. ‘Because my assholian husband is here, ignoring me,’ she snarkily answered herself. She went looking for Tory and Mea, but they were hiding somewhere. “Have you seen the cats?” She asked. “Nope.” “Why is it they disappear when you are around?” Was she picking a fight? “They know I don’t like them.” “How do they know that?” “How the fuck would I know? They’re fucking cats!” There, the venom in his voice was plain. If he wanted to have a knockdown drag out,…

25. Antsy

By the light of day, and in all sobriety Dana Feminita noticed that her husband was profoundly antsy all of a sudden. He’d be pounding away on that battered laptop of his, and then he’d pop up and pace. Usually, he just pounded without the pacing. Creative process? Couldn’t hurt to inquire. “Julian.” “Yep?” “That’s the third time in this hour you’ve gotten up to pace. Are you having trouble passing a passage?” “Man! Woman! Mother of god!” “That’s a yes, I gather.” “I’m reading what I wrote in summer, and I’m trying to make it over so that it doesn’t make me either want to puke, or put me to sleep.” “The life of the novelist?” “Pitiful.” He sat back down and went back to pounding. It was true, after a fashion that he was working on a novel. It just wasn’t the one he’d written over the summer. It was some new crazy thing that was unfolding in real-time and there seemed to be actual skin in the game. His mind was working on the implications of having Lana’s phone number. Did he even dare to talk to her in extreme real-time, voice to voice, without the benefit…

26. Some Serious Trouble

After reading Julian’s blog, she understood that he was struggling with his decision. She pondered, though only after hitting send, that she had gone way, way too far. Not only was she not being coy, she was being brazen in public. There was a word for this, but she couldn’t quite think of it at the moment. Was she a femme fatale? He’d sort of started it with that ‘muse’ notion. As far as her readership was concerned, she had forgotten about it except for the two readers she directly addressed. One, her husband, was not a known reader. The other, Julian, was used to having his mettle tested. Lana didn’t think you could teach literature in a college and not be somewhat heroic. Julian, after reading the latest on “Amy Tells All,” understood that she was forgetting how mainstream that blog had become. He could read that she appreciated some of the risk factor, but she clearly didn’t understand that she was live coast to coast. She had to be warned about that. He also understood that she was auditioning him for an affair. That she would propose this in public was terrifying. His students were all over that…

27. A Date in Salem

When Julian got home from his office, Dana was passed out already on the couch. Her laptop had fallen to the floor, and Facebook was flickering furiously. He let all of that be and set about preparing for tomorrows trip to Salem. First of all, where was it? How far away? He looked it up on Mapquest. If he went up to I68W, it was about 3 ½ hours west. If he took the more straight shot, 50W, it would take about 4 hours one way. So what was he going to tell Dana? He also had to think about appearances. There was nothing he could do about his paunch. Was there anything he could do about his appearance at all? What the hell was he going to wear? If he got dressed up in any way, Dana would understand what he was up to, and that would never do. He put some shoes, a shirt and a tie and an old suit jacket in a bag and took these out to the car. That was about the extent of his prep. Early the next morning, Julian and Dana met in the kitchen to talk about breakfast. They sipped the…

28. Deed Ducked, Disaster Struck

At the Cheyenne, WY regional airport, a Cessna made an early evening landing and taxied to the ramp for refueling. Its pilot, Scott Andrews, was done flying for this day. He went into the attendant’s building and arranged to hangar the Skyhawk. He asked about nearby accommodations. “There’s a Super 8 right here. There’s a bar called the Cloud Nine Lounge.” “Say, by the way, isn’t this where that kid died?” “Yep. Jessica went down right about over there,” the man said, pointing to the little residential area that bordered the airport. People often ask about that. We are not so proud of it.” “Yeah. I can imagine. My wife got onto the topic a while ago. For some reason it stuck in my mind.” “Yeah. Her last words were ‘do you hear the rain, do you hear the rain?’” “Yeow. This was on the cockpit recorder?” “Nah. They flew a Cessna kind of like yours. No recorder. She was on the phone with her mother.” “That’s tragic.” “Yep. Enjoy Cheyenne.” “Thanks.” After taking care of post flight business, Scott headed for the Cloud Nine. He got himself a booth and a beer and called Lana. It was odd, but…

29. Smacked

When Julian made it back to his home in Stephens City, it was about 11:30 PM. He had stopped at a service station in Winchester and changed back into his hiking gear. Then he stomped out into the woods next to the highway and muddied up his boots. He wanted an airtight alibi. Now he found that such precautions had not been necessary, because Dana Feminita was sound asleep in their bed. He went quietly back down the stairs, padding in his socks and put on some sneakers. He went out to the car and retrieved his ‘professor costume,’ and hung it carefully back up in a closet on the first floor. Now, except for the odometer reading, the whole thing had never happened. He poured himself a drink. He sat down on the couch and stared into space. He thought of Lana and Scott. He thought of Dana. He sighed. When he had drained his glass, he went upstairs and climbed in with her and was soon fast asleep. He slept the sleep of the man who had done what is right. The next day, he went with Dana shopping up in Winchester. He was full of talk about…

30. New Year’s Eve

The morning after the crisis was one of those sun-soaked mountain days that made the snow cover glisten and hut the eyes to be out and about. Julian discovered this as he took out his trash. He winced into the rays of light that pierced the trees and turned back towards the house. Dana was in the bathroom, and he could see her in the window doing her makeup. They’d a good few days, and they were looking forward to a warm New Year’s Eve. They had no other plan than to indulge in each other’s company, make a meal of a pair of game hens, and swill some champagne. First, though, they had to get through December’s penultimate day. For Julian, this posed the challenge of seriously getting back to work on his novel’s bloody stump. It was slow going, and he kept diving off it to see if Lana had messaged him on Facebook. She hadn’t. For a man so proud of his restraint, he was weak as water when it came to craving the woman’s words. Scott, in his cell at the Wood County Sherriff’s Office holding area, was sitting on his first prison cot staring at…