{"id":907,"date":"2011-06-24T10:35:36","date_gmt":"2011-06-24T14:35:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/wpblog\/?p=907"},"modified":"2012-07-15T20:12:32","modified_gmt":"2012-07-16T00:12:32","slug":"his-plan-by-shannon-casey","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/his-plan-by-shannon-casey\/","title":{"rendered":"“His Plan” by Shannon Casey"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This here\u2019s a bit of a comin\u2019 of age romance that makes no sense, has no growth and just seeks to merely enthrall, consider this my Huck Finn<\/em> plagiarization. Consider plagiarization a new word I just coined. Throw away all the rules is what I means to say. I\u2019s a gonna lie to you and you\u2019s a just gonna have to deal with it. They say lies cover up the pain. They say denial is the only way to get by. Get it? Got it? Good?<\/p>\n

I grew up with two tongues. Two walks. Two ways of fucking a queen\u2026 Like a 21st<\/sup> century Hamlet playin\u2019 stick ball and fallin\u2019 asleep in libraries typing silly research papers \u2013 fucking endnotes and bibliographies. I think my reaction of Reign is quite ambivalent or somethin\u2019 real close to indifferent. I dream romance and wake up defeated, confused. What\u2019s the point\u2026you know if pain and confusion are sure to follow. On the metro, I laugh at druggies and junk heads, but feel nervous around workin\u2019 class folk; you know, the type that appear normal. The type that hold shit in as they go to work pissed the fuck off\u2026damaged from secrets, from trauma. Love\u2019s\u2026traumatic, demonic even. Fuckin\u2019 bitch, fuckin\u2019 queen. Oh Reign, what have you done to me.<\/p>\n

Her name was Reign, well that wasn\u2019t her real name, but, it\u2019s poetic. Maybe clich\u00e9, clich\u00e9s are poetic, right or wrong? The girl had her way with me. A church go\u2019er. Mean hips, nice sway. \u2019Em legs would move in rhythm as if accompanied by a song, or drum. She had a soft face, good face and golly gee the good Lord her eyes\u2026<\/p>\n

It all changed when she turned her head around that night and gazed into my manhood and challenged, \u201cYou man enough?\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, Reign lived on a haunted land. Her little white house sat in the middle of a big empty field\u2026just a few miles away from the gothic possession of Yale with their powerful stone buildings and gargoyles statues. Many times I\u2019ve been caught walkin\u2019 around downtown while waitin\u2019 on the M-9 bus. One time I made friendly with one of them street sleepers\u2026he told me he had tough luck that night too, cause he ain\u2019t make it to the soup kitchen, the shelter\u2026nothing. It was a bad day he said. Then he told me many lies, just so he wouldn\u2019t be lonely, but, I reckon some of them lies was the truth. He told me that over the hills just west of the town green was where em runaway slaves hung around. Well, see, this is where Reign\u2019s little house was-ah-located at the bottom of that there hill. That there eerie demonic hill. Street Sleeper told me many a nights when he ain\u2019t make it to the soup kitchen or shelter he\u2019d be dragged over there by something<\/em> or someone<\/em>. And he\u2019d sing with em runaway slaves all night, with the devil<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u2026So her name was Reign and yessir we did a little dance. <\/em><\/p>\n

See, on that same day I told Reign about what that street sleeper said to me. And then Reign responds to me, \u201cI have visions sometimes Sunshine, demonic ones, like back in \u2019em slave days. I see \u2019em things they use to do back in \u2019em slave days. I see everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

I says to her, \u201cWhat you mean Reign?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe devil want me like how he wanted them. And like in Job, God\u2019s a testin\u2019 me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, I was feenin\u2019 to run away from this girl and never see her again, but, I didn\u2019t know, being that I was only twelve going on thirteen\u2026when the next time I\u2019d be able to dance <\/strong><\/em>with another girl was.<\/p>\n

So I says to her, \u201cWhat you mean Reign?\u201d<\/p>\n

She says to me against the darkness of the night, face barely illuminated by a far-away street lamp, \u201cMy father is the devil and God\u2019s a testin\u2019 me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I swear I could feel the presence of those undead slaves chained up by they hands strollin\u2019 down the hills in a single file line. I swears I could feel them, they misery. They pain.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat you mean your Daddy\u2019s the devil?\u201d I asked. \u201cHe heals people. He shouts and stomps every Sunday morning and people weep and raise they arms.\u201d<\/p>\n

One of my first memories of Reign was observing how she\u2019d imitate her father and run in between grown folks legs touchin\u2019 and teasin\u2019 \u2019em as they stood at the altar; they\u2019d fall and shiver like they\u2019d do and Reign\u2019d just stumble down next to them and stare at \u2019em all empty. I think she believed there was a God, but, I don\u2019t think she liked Him very much.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat you mean your Daddy\u2019s the devil?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think good people do bad things? Or do you think that good people only do good things?\u201d<\/p>\n

Now I ain\u2019t ever give this question much thought but, there are some things just stick in your head for years and years. I done answered this question a many times soon there after and never did feel confident in my response.<\/p>\n

That night Reign did to me what she said her Daddy did to her<\/em> every night after his Sunday sermons. She took me by the back of my head and gripped a good bunch of my hair real strong. I ain\u2019t ever know she was that strong. Her eyes changed from curious sweet to angry sour and she ain\u2019t ever stop saying hurtful things. Racial things. Random things. She grabbed my belt and called me things. She called me things that sounded like they came out of someone else\u2019s mouth.<\/p>\n

\u2026you queer, you queen, you faggot<\/em>.<\/p>\n

I told her to stop. I told her my nerves were a jumpin.\u2019 She kept scratching away at my face, sometimes gettin\u2019 into my eyes and as I closed them for protection she\u2019d kick and scream. Don\u2019t look at me like that little girl you don\u2019t know what it\u2019s like!<\/em>\u2026you queer, you queen, you faggot<\/em>. She took everything I had. She ripped it piece by piece and it burned. It smelled. It crippled\u2026 me.<\/p>\n

Sometime a past\u2026headlights invaded the street and we just laid there flat as the cars drove by. I didn\u2019t feel the grass or dirt until she got up from on top of me. Butt cheeks was all sweaty and my hands was a bit stiff. She hummed in a deep tone, got real testy. She asked me if I could ever understand it. If I could ever understand why he did what he did to her? And we just sat there in the middle of big field right in front of her small white house\u2026lost at the age of twelve feelin\u2019 like a slave with a ringing in my ears you<\/em> queer, you queen, you faggot.<\/em> <\/em><\/p>\n

There was no doubt that I loved this girl as well as a young man who didn\u2019t understand what love was could\u2019ve loved a girl. And so for months and months I cried and cried, cause I called her and kept on a calling. But, no one would answer. I\u2019d pick up the phone hands shivering with a sweaty grip for months and months non-stop. Finally, her Daddy picked up.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow you doing Sir? I\u2019d sure like to speak to your daughter if it isn\u2019t too much of a burden.\u201d<\/p>\n

He told me that his daughter wanted nothing to do with me and that it\u2019d be best if I\u2019d stop not-understandin\u2019 that. He told me to hand the phone to my father and I told him I didn\u2019t have one. So, I handed the phone to my mother and after she got off the phone with him she done smack me harder then she ever did. Harder then when I had stole money out of her purse to get some candies. Harder than when she caught me cursing at God during grace. And Harder then when I brought Ricky<\/em> home for the first time.<\/p>\n

I was never able to turn to God, cause it seemed like He done planned the whole thing or had some part in the plannin\u2019 or absence. My momma kept on asking Him for forgiveness and telling me to keep quiet about it \u2013 that I ain\u2019t know no better. That it wasn\u2019t nothin\u2019. The devil was borrowing my innocent body and that neither me nor Reign nor Ricky nor Bobby nor Larry would go to hell for what we didn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n

After Chucky I was so tired of not-understandin\u2019. And I missed her so\u2026Reign.<\/p>\n

So years and years come and a go before I saw her again. She was very still when she talked and her eyes didn\u2019t do much. She said very little except, \u201cRemember when I told you that God was a testin\u2019 me like he did Job?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah Reign, I remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

With the slightest remorse on her right brow, she kissed my hand and whispered, \u201cI couldn\u2019t carry the pain no more. I just wanted you to hold onto it for me for a little while. That\u2019s all. I didn\u2019t mean for all this<\/em> to happen.\u201d<\/p>\n

They call me queer, they call me queen, they call me faggot<\/em>.<\/p>\n

They tell me to pray and ask for forgiveness, but, after looking back all these years it sure seemed like it was all part of His<\/em> plan or that he had some part in the plannin\u2019 or absence. Sure enuff seemed<\/em> that way to me.<\/p>\n

About the Author<\/em>:<\/p>\n

Shannon Casey is an emerging screenwriter, novelist and poet. He studied literature and film at\u00a0Hunter\u00a0College\u00a0and\u00a0New York\u00a0University. He has written pieces for several indie film production companies both domestic and foreign. He is an active member of the\u00a0New York City\u00a0literary and film communities. He is currently working on a supernatural thriller entitled God Talks to Mommy. For more on Shannon Casey please go to his website\u00a0www.sites.google.com\/site\/shannonkowriting<\/wbr><\/a><\/span>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This here\u2019s a bit of a comin\u2019 of age romance that makes no sense, has no growth and just seeks to merely enthrall, consider this my Huck Finn plagiarization. Consider plagiarization a new word I just coined. Throw away all the rules is what I means to say. I\u2019s a gonna lie to you and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,200,219],"tags":[152,153],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/907"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=907"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/907\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3285,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/907\/revisions\/3285"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=907"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=907"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=907"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}