The Journal: Mighty Like a Rose

From the journal of William Crozier

March 2, 1849

Beautiful Tabitha,

What have I've done?

I had lost my reason, took my journal and left town and everything I've grown to love. Now I sit in this cave, closed off from the world. I know nothing but what I see out the cave opening I scaled a day ago.

Why did I do it?

To hurt you Tabitha. Did it work? I will never know. That was my first thought when I went about my insane business but upon reflection I think a closer truth would be Fear.

Fear that you would leave. I thought in my madness that it would be best to deliver the mortal blow myself before you did. How stupid. You never gave me any indication that you were going to do such a thing and for all I know your sudden silence was the result of any number of reasonable explanations. I never gave you opportunity to reply. How I wish I had!

I cut off a perfectly functioning hand out of fear that it would stop working. The bill has come due and I must pay for my stupidity. Whatever possessed me to destroy my fine house of cards has left me now. Pride holds me here.

Tabitha you will never know how very much I regret my actions, how I wish I could undo what I have so rashly done. Would you have me back Tabitha if I were to return with my tail between my legs, cur that I am?

How could you? I have lied to you, told you I would be your friend, that I so much wanted to be your friend, was your friend. I wish I could find a way to remain your friend. No action short of murder could blacken my soul more than betraying a friend, a trusted confidant.

I have betrayed you. I am not trustworthy.

In my stupid attempt to hurt you I've deeply hurt myself. I sit, shivering against this wall fervently hoping that I didn't hurt you at all. That you haven't even noticed I have gone. That I did not matter.

My name in water writ.

While I was busily wrecking everything I love I was having so much fun. I felt in control, that this was the proper thing to do. Once I started I found I could not stop.

They say it's cold in Hell. It's very cold here.

And what of you Tabitha, and Jerome and my other friends? What will become of you? What twists in the road of life will I miss? Could I have helped? Lightened the load? Shared in the laughter, supplied a shoulder in sorrow? I shall never know.

Who shall sing your song?

My daylight is failing. I'm tired through my very soul Tabitha, I'm so very tired. It's going to be very cold again tonight. I can't stop shivering! I'm frightened and very much alone. I have no one to blame but myself. With no help at all I did this to myself.

Do you remember when I took you out to the field and taught you how to shoot a pistol? Your eyes blazed like fire as you blasted bottles from the fence! Oh what fun we had that day! Do you remember what I told you? "Tabitha, once you pull the trigger you can never call the bullet back. Aim with care." I sit on the floor of this cave trying to find a way to stuff the bullet back into the barrel. As you've told me many times, "I shall think on it tomorrow."

I must sleep now, I pray I dream of you as I first saw you, happy, idly playing hopscotch in the sunlight.

Tell me Tabitha, are you counting the minutes till we speak again?

With deepest respect and ...

I whisper, "love"

"I am so sorry William. You fucked up."

I return the journal to its sad owner having read every word of a loving friendship destroyed in a heartbeat. I return to the side opening, sit against the wall and think on it.

I sat with sad William through the night, pondering his journal, pondering Princess. When morning came I tested my shoulder and climbed down from the ledge. After all my actions placed me there, it was up to me to get down.

Jem you'll have to get that key yourself, enjoy your climb.

Princess Grace and I have a mighty friendship, mighty like a rose.

billybear

The Journal, written for Princess Grace March 2-3, 2007, while billybear attempts to get his shit together.

The Journal: Rapid Decline

From the journal of William Crozier

February 16, 1849

Sweetest Tabitha,

I dropped another note off at the house today. Just some light poem I had written for your amusement. I asked the servant if you had left a message for me. He shook his head no.

No matter. You must be out and about. I hope to hear from you soon.

With deepest respect and love,
Your sweet William

February 19, 1849

Dearest Tabitha,

I dropped a note off at the house letting you know of recent events in my life. I saw the most delightful play with a cad you would have enjoyed. He was very bright but had a strong woman in his ear. I know by the time we have our next date you would have seen the play. I can't wait to discuss it with you!

You know what they say, "Behind every successful man is a very surprised woman!"

The servant said there were no messages. I hope nothing is wrong.

With deepest respect and love,
Your sweet William

February 24, 1849

Dear Tabitha,

I have been coming by the house daily looking hopefully at the servant. We have a system worked out. I look at him expectantly and he shakes his head no.

I dropped off another note. I fear I have angered you in some manner. I ask myself that, review my actions and can find nothing that should have brought this sudden silence.

I've checked with Jerome and he's heard nothing.

With deepest respect and love,
Your sweet William

February 28, 1849

My Tabitha,

I must have wronged you. I know not what I've done but this constant anxiety I feel has worn my soul threadbare. I stand in front of your house hoping for a glimpse of you but you've disappeared.

I miss you.

I shall be leaving you. I will no longer darken your doorway nor annoy you with my endless whining notes. My only conclusion is that you've found another interest and no longer need nor want your William.

When you awaken tomorrow I shall be gone. You will not hear from me ever again.

I am sorry.

With deepest respect and love,
Your sweet William

The Journal: Days of Wine and Roses

From the journal of William Crozier

January 15, 1849

Dearest Tabitha,

I have been sitting in my office recalling the last four wonderful months we spent together. I've been filling my journal with our exploits but thought I'd take pause and look back. I have never been happier and hope you have been too!

Do you remember the first time we didn't play, just talked? I shall never forget it. It was in early October and we were having an Indian summer. I knelt before you in my usual manner when you pulled the curtain back and said, "I'm sorry William, I'm just not in the mood."

"Would you care to talk my Lady?"

"I would still have to charge you sweet William."

"That is no bother dear Tabitha, I know it would give me great pleasure to converse with you if you would like to do so with me."

You laugh and take me to the back porch where we sat for hours on a porch swing drinking sweetened tea and talking. We've done it many times since and if I were to be honest with myself I enjoy our talks more than our play. No that's not true, I also enjoy our games because of your open acceptance of who and what I am. For others I've sensed that it's just a job, with you I detect a genuine liking of me and an understanding of my foibles. You are blessed in finding employment that you love. So Tabitha, it's impossible to rate, let's call it a tie shall we, and keep doing both!

And over the months, scribbling my thoughts in this journal, talking and playing with you I've come to adore you. You're something of a thief aren't you Tabitha? I open myself up to you entirely, and find you've snuck in and become my true friend. Giggling all the way because you know it's freely given. I feel very close to you and I'm so happy for it.

I've also grown close with other clients of the house. They are wonderful chaps and we laugh and cavort down at "the club." Smoking cigars and drinking whiskey, we while away the hours. I look forward to seeing them as frequently as I can. I've grown quite close with another "regular" of yours, Jerome.

Jerome is quite excited to receive his CB0025. He showed me a drawing of one and it looks positively medieval! He says the four pound weight will be no problem and if he keeps it oiled it shouldn't rust. He thinks it will arrive any day now.

When we first met I had no idea how popular you are, but what amazes me most is that I feel no jealousy. Do you remember that one day when you worked all night long? I managed to sneak in between clients and shove a glass of sweetened ice tea with some flowers under your curtain before sneaking away giggling. You knew it was me and sent me the nicest note the next morning. I treasure that note!

I feel compelled to tell you how sorry I was about my behavior a month or so ago. I can not believe that you continue to find me interesting with so many bellowing for your attentions. My imagination will catch hold and I fill with self doubt and loathing. What could you possibly see in me? How foolish I felt when I learned that you had to suddenly leave to care for your mother who had fallen ill! It's so easy to place you on a pedestal forgetting completely that you're someone's daughter, you have a family and a life outside of this house.

Upon your return you sent me a note that I try and to keep in my mind. You wrote honestly to me, like a friend would reminding me that I'm not the only one clamoring for your attentions, that your family and life outside of this house will always come first, as it should!

You said, "Sweet William, I am sorry that I have been pulled in so many ways of late. You know that I have many clients and that I love them and you, each in your own way but I can not (as much as I would like to be) always be here. And remember when I am here you're not the only rose that needs watering my dear."

I am so glad to be past the madness that gripped me! I hope that demon will not visit me again. I shall endeavor to keep your words in mind.

In such a short amount of time I feel so very close to you Miss Tabitha Lee! I have never felt such happiness or joy. Surly you see the bounce in my step! I shall be seeing you shortly for our "date"!

With deepest respect and love,
Your sweet William

The Journal: Introductions

Sunlight streams into my eyes. I come swimming out of darkness with a blinding headache. Dried blood down the side of my face gluing my right eye shut. With a start I remember the bear and grab for my knife. Waves of pain flash through me. There's something wrong with my right shoulder. I pull the knife from the shief with a loud moan.

No bear.

I check the shoulder out, not broken but very badly sprained. Every breath produces a sharp stabbing pain, probably cracked ribs. My legs seem OK. Good. I sit for a few taking stock and it's not too bad physically but not good either.

I rise to my feet and peer up at the hole I fell down. I was lucky, I fell about fifteen or twenty feet. I could probably scale it if I wasn't so banged up, but I am. I also hear the bear, sleeping near the hole.

I head towards the source of the sunlight. This tunnel opens up on the side of the nipple. I look up and it's a tough climb to the summit. No go. I look down and it's even worse, about three hundred feet to a rocky bottom.

I'm in real trouble. My father won't be back to pick me up for three days. I have no food, no water and no clothes. Exposure and water will be a problem. Well what do I have?

I look down the other end of the tunnel and scream, startling the bear into roaring with rage. I'm going to have to be quiet so that bad boy doesn't get the idea to come down here and shut me up. Against the far wall, staring into the morning sun is a skeleton. It's holding something in its' hands, its tattered clothing give witness to its age.

It's been down here a long time. I approach it cautiously, next to it appears to be a pen of sorts and a dried up inkwell. As I get nearer, the object it's holding resolves itself into a leather bound book. I gently remove it without disturbing the skeleton.

I head back to the sunlight drenched opening, sit down against a wall, gently open the book and read:

The Journal of William Crozier

September 21, 1848

Tabitha,

You don't know me, even though we've met, but I've decided to start this journal as a bit of a lark. Perhaps to review as the years flow by. I doubt you will ever see its contents. I plan to pour my thoughts and feelings into this journal because keeping them in one's head, well they're never fully articulated that way. Only by placing pen to paper can you approximate your meaning.

I shall never forget when I first laid eyes upon you.

See the girls out walking, the girls they look so fine,
Dressed up in fine satin, their silver buckles shine

That song sprang unbidden into my mind as I watched you and the other ladies in front of the house of your employment, plying your trade. I stood across the street in the bright Raleigh sun and watched the ladies, trying to decide who to see.

Most of the girls were laughing and talking together, sitting on the porch swing together, standing on the lawn playing croquet. You walked alone along the sidewalk, casually spinning your pink parasol over your right shoulder, a carefree bounce in your step.

You pause in front of a hopscotch board some kids had etched on the sidewalk, hop the pattern, spin and hop back before resuming your stroll.

I cross the street and approach you, shyly alternating my gaze between the sidewalk and your face. I stop before you, bow and eek out a nervous, "A fine day to you, my Lady." My eyes skitter across you like a rock across a pond. Your satin dress, first mistaken for white is of the palest pink, contrasted with the sharp pink of your parasol.

Your eyes sparkle as you reply, "And how are you on such a beautiful day my gentleman?" Your soft southern accent stirring my heart and baser regions of my body.

"In desperate need of your services, Lady"

Giggling you take my hand saying, "Then allow me to attend you directly, kind sir" and lead me into the house. We enter a room, you sit on a comfortable chair and pull a curtain between us.

"Have you done this before?"

"Yes"

"Then let us proceed."

Softly, slowly you cajole and coax my darkest, deepest wants and desires from me. My breath bated, my moans growing with increasing desire. Your voice envelopes me making me feel safe and accepted, base, craven creature I am. I loose myself in you, orgasming on the floor where I kneel before you. Your satisfied giggle comes from behind the curtain.

I fill with shame. What a beast of a man I am! I should be taken out into the fields and shot like a rabid dog. How disgusting you must find me. Sick, perverted, weak, pathetic, worthless.

You break protocol and rip the curtain aside before I leave. I scurry about the room like a cockroach caught in the kitchen, frantically trying to button my pants while wiping my spent seed from the floor with a towel under my shoe. I'm flushed with humiliation, embarrassment and shame.

"Are you married William?" You ask, ignoring my state.

I don't know what to say, I don't want to lie to you, I don't want to tell you the truth. I compromise, "Maybe ..."

Your laugh is free and easy, telling me you already know the answer. You glance down at the mess I have yet to mop up from the floor, smile happily and say, "I see you have enjoyed yourself maybe married William. I shall count the minutes till we speak again."

You're gone. I clean up, place my money in the bowl and follow.

It's night now Tabitha and I've thought of you through the day. I sit here scrawling the beginnings of this journal by candle light. Will you be mentioned tomorrow? Will I write of another? Your "I shall count the minutes ..." float through my mind. I know it's just a line said to various boys day after day.

I wonder Tabitha, if over time you will come to mean it?

Sincerely,
William

The Journal: Boob Mountain

Boob Mountain

My father drops me off at the base of the mountain. It's currently about seventy degrees so I'm not too cold in my loin cloth. The Bowie knife slaps against my thigh as I head up the base of the mountain. My quest for the key to jem's CB2000 just beginning.

I reach the base of "The Nipple" a few hours later when I discover my first clue. A large sign with an arrow pointing up saying, "Jem's key." I begin to free climb. A few hours later I summit and see another sign pointing into the woods.

I head in, I'm starting to think this might be pretty easy when I come to the next sign. It points further into the woods but I notice something behind it, barely visible. Is that a cave entrance? I spelunk from time to time and it just might be.

It is! I know I'm being stupid, I'm not properly equipped but I enter the cave anyway. It's fairly large judging from the late afternoon light trickling in through the opening. There is a funk in the air and a storm on the rise. The wind has picked up since I entered the cave filling it with whistling noises.

I peer further in, the rain hitting my back. I figure this is a pretty good place to wait out the storm. I think I see a branch tunnel a little ahead and off to the left. I head towards it, wanting to get out of the weather and hunker down for the night.

I tumble over a hibernating black bear. It's up with a roar and I'm rolling away from it as fast as I can. I spring to my feet noticing that it's between me and the entrance. It sights me and charges.

I wheel and fly down the side tunnel mentally screaming, "Please don't have a pit, please don't have a ..." I fall, managing to curl into a ball before smacking into something hard.

Blackness.