A Conversation for 30 Hours in Hooverville: A Novel Experiment

21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 1

Dmitri Gheorgheni, Post Editor

It is 8 pm. If walking a dog, please bring a flashlight. Do not believe everything you see.


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 2

Dmitri Gheorgheni, Post Editor

After the planetarium show, Wlad drives home and feeds Ignatz. Leaving the car in the garage, he walks around the corner to the university buildings on his side of Main Street, down to the university theatre. This is a small venue used for lectures and film club events, with a clever little 'box office' out in front that gives it a retro feel. It's not the big university auditorium, which is called The Macbeth-Spongenboffer and not, as the students satirically call it, the Macbeth Spongebob. That's not Lesliespeak, just a student joke like the one in Pittsburgh where they refer to the majestic Cathedral of Learning A5135780 as 'Cathy'. Privately, Wlad thinks student humour is on the decline. In his day, they referred to the 42-storey Neogothic edifice as the Height of Ignorance. One of his German professors called it 'das pseudogothische Ungeheuer'. It was not a compliment.

Wlad is deliberately heading in the opposite direction from the Town Hall, because he doesn't want to get anywhere close to the No-Bull House china emporium. He's heard they're practising over there. He gets enough of choir practice on Tuesday nights at the First Church of Nighthoover, and doesn't want to hear anymore – especially not what he's privately referring to as 'the Rogue Messiah'. Still, he will be sure to attend the performance, as some of the soloists are bound to be good. Personally, his favourite version of all time was one in the YMCA in the Hill District in Pittsburgh, where the entire audience jumped to their feet and sang the 'Hallelujah Chorus' with the performers. He thinks that Handel would have liked this version.

Wlad enters the theatre building and joins a very small crowd for a lecture on Pennsylvania folklore. The speaker, Professor Joe Tischbein, is talking about the custom of the Pennsylvania Germans called 'powwowing'. This doesn't refer to Native American gatherings, but is a throwback to medieval European belief systems about the use of charms in healing and such. For instance, if a child has a minor injury, the parent takes the child upon his lap, passes his hand over the sore and says:

Heile, heile, Kaelversdreck,
Bis morge frueh is alles sweg.

'Heal, heal, calf manure, by tomorrow morning all is over.'

Wlad, the descendant of the Enlightenment, is mildly shocked, though his friend Aaron Metcalf from Tennessee has told him that his grandfather used to 'rub away warts' in much the same manner - and it worked! 'The powers of the mind,' thinks Wlad.

Even more interesting are the charms against bees and wasps. The bee one goes:

Humler, Brumler, Stech mich net,
No holt dich aw,
der Deivel net.

Which Wlad interprets as:

'Fuzzy buzzer, don't stick me,
Stick the devil behind the tree.'

To the tune of 'Harvey Duff'.

Professor Tischbein assures the audience that he's tried these anti-sting charms, and they worked wonders.

The next one, intended to keep another farmer's dog from biting you, is one Wlad finds rather rude as well as theologically suspect:

Hund hald die Mund,
Mich hatt Gott erschaffen,
Dich hatt er werden lassen.

Which means, 'Shut up, dog. God made me, but he just let you happen.' Hmpf.

Apparently, the Pennsylvania Dutch don't have a tooth fairy. Instead, they tell the kids to drop their baby teeth into a mouse hole and chant:

Meisel, Meisel doh is en Zah,
Geb mir nau en neuer drah.

'Mousie, mousie, here's a tooth,
Give me a new one.'

Crows are always a danger to a newly planted crop. Pennsylvania Dutch boys often had the job of chasing them off. Their strategy was to shout lies at the passing crows to make them think their nests were on fire. The crows always flew away - to check on their nests, the boys assumed.

This, too, was powwowing.

Walking back home, Wlad reflects, 'Wonder if there's a powwow spell to restore sanity? We could surely use it around here.'

[Note: All these powwowing charms are taken from the Rev. John Baer Stoudt, 'Folklore of the Pennsylvania Germans: A Paper Read Before the Pennsylvania German Society in 1910', published 1916.]

smiley - dragon


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 3

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

Arsenio sang the two tenor solos that began the oratorio after the overture.

"Please don't drag," scolded Peggy Flint, the conductor for the first half of then program. "I know you have some leeway as a soloist, but your listeners may have weak bladders. There's no intermission, so they'll have to suffer longer. Besides, you'll be gasping for breath on those long phrases in your next aria."

Then Arsenio began singing faster. and was scolded for that, too."

It;'s going to be a long night, he said to himself silently.

Peggy was the choir director for the Sixth Church of Hooverville, so nobody questioned her expertise. She became especially indignant about pronunciation in "For unto us a child is born."

"There is no 'W' in "us,' she said. The child was not born to Wus constituency. He was born to *us.*

Halfway through the program, Peggy gave up the baton so she could sing the contralto solos. Matilda Barrows, another alto, came forward to conduct. She was every bit as demanding as Peggy had been.

For instance, she chided everybody for belting out "Halleluiah." "This is not the holler loudly chorus," she exclaimed. "Never sing louder than pretty." She glared at the tenors. "There are only two of you, yet you're outbalancing the rest of the group."

"We're the few, the loud, the tenors," M.T. said proudly, as everyone else laughed.

At the rehearsal's end, the singers were urged to publicize the upcoming concert. "Arsenio, of course you will put up posters in your china shop!" Peggy said. "Also, there's a weather-protected bulletin board in front of the public library. The local history museum would welcome one. And we'll send announcements to the Honker.

"And the Police Station always puts up our posters," added Fuller, "not to mention the City Hall."

Other singers offered to try to bring posters to other downtown sites.

"What if some of the churches are doing their own versions of "The Messiah?" Philbin asked Peggy.

"The more the merrier!" she replied.


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 4

Dmitri Gheorgheni, Post Editor

["There are only two of you, yet you're outbalancing the rest of the group." smiley - rofl Have heard this before...]


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 5

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

[I have some more gems about tenors....]


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 6

Caiman raptor elk - Inside big box, thinking.

[As a baritone, I would usually get thrown in with the bass section, in order to even out the numbers a bit]


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 7

Caiman raptor elk - Inside big box, thinking.

VrrrrOOOMMM

ScreEEECH!

We're back at the station. Why are the lights still off?

Shuffle shuffle... Ouch!
Found the switch.

Poof. Let there be light.
.
..
....
SURRRPRIIIIIISE!!!!

Happy birthday Fred!

Wha? Oh... Right... Birthday. Totally forgot about that one.

(Insert noise here, about 24 seconds, followed by Hurray!)

Thank you Pop. I love the way you played "Happy birthday" on that V12 engine. I never even heard you practice... Maybe we could use that in the next composition for our band.

Can I have an smiley - oj please? Thanks!

This is really a surprise. How did you manage to keep it a secret?

So what you are saying Paula, is that what happened today was all just a ruse to keep me occupied?

You were the one to introduce our bookshop owner to the arcane art of Jack-fish-o-lanterns? Did you also give her that fake book of prophecies to keep you occupied? No? (So that must be genuine then. Interesting...)

But the Lady got a bit out of hand, I suppose? Oh, you thought it should look convincing? You got that spot on then.

How about the "vanishing barn"? That was arranged by Anna's latest boyfriend, Stéphane De Jouemont, and his special effects team...
What happened to Anna's previous boyfriend, Dmitri? He and his uncle Wlad wanted to take her to Paris to claim a reward from your Maman, impersonating a lost princess or something, weren't they? Strange people...

So it was just light effects and an inflatable barn then?

And Suzie was into this plot as well?

What do you mean, Fred? I ordered Suzie to warn the authorities up to and including the White House!

Maybe now is a good moment to inform the Sheriff. Before the Feds arrive.


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 8

FWR

The clubhouse was packed. Every member, prospect, hang-around and wannabe had been summoned by Fluffy and Old MacDonald.

Bikers milled around, drinking coffee, arranging flowers, and trying to find out where the rather mellow Medium Leslie tunes where coming from.

The bar had an expectant air, each member briefed on what to do when the Limey showed up. Old MacDonald had no doubts at all that he would turn to NPMC for help.

The hastily mocked up H.O.R.R.I.D. ruse would work perfectly, deflect the blame off the 'Pirates and, hopefully, force the Brit out of town, running scared he'd forget all about any beef he had with Cal in the process.

As usual, her planning was immaculate. Cuddles would be fined, or demoted, or given community work to do as penance, and all would go back to normal in Hooverville.

Cal was safe, guarded 24/7 in a trailer at the RV park, she'd remain there until her flight out of the country, once back in England, the NPMC had reached out to their UK Chapter in Solihull and they would give her shelter and protection.

All was sweet.

They just had to chill until the short haired Brit arrived, eat some cheese, drink some wine, catch a few strays, then spin a few fibs, and wait 'til the literal fireworks literally started.


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 9

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

["-Spongenboffer" is a great name, Dmitri. smiley - ok Student humor still resonates with me. Will I ever grow up? Not likely]

[I am truly sorry that my character's loud rehearsal has forced Lola to put in her earplugs. That was never necessary when the group sang madrigals. A solution might be found. Lots of complimentary coffee might be offered as an apology.]


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 10

Tavaron da Quirm - Arts Editor

Wilhelmina and Cassy stand outside of their door under the light of a streetlamp. Wilhelmina feels slightly cold in her striped pyjama trousers, but at least her coat is warm. She listens for a few seconds, then points to the direction of Main Street with her pink umbrella and starts walking.

'The chanting doesn't seem to come from the direction of the park. Strange...'

She stops at the corner and listens again. Cassy stops next to her.

'Eastward. I wonder what they are up to. This is going for so long already, they must be serious. I hope we won't be too late.'

Wilhelmina proceeds to walk down Main Street in the direction of the church. In her right hand she firmly clutches her umbrella, in her left arm she holds the potted plant. When a few people walk towards her she tries to act casually and suddenly feels very self conscious about wearing pyjamas. But it is dark, they probably don't notice. Just to be sure she stops in the shadow between the lights of two lanterns and pretends to look into a shop window.

When the people have walked past, Wilhelmina continues to walk down Main Street. The sound is getting louder. She must be pretty close now. When she reaches the No-Bull House Wilhelmina stops. Could it be...? There seems to be a dim light coming from a different room, falling into the shop. Wilhelmina frowns. Is Arsenio Philpott in league with any dark powers? What is going on in there?

Wilhelmina sneaks down the side alley next to the China Shop and towards the back of the building. Cassy elegantly strolls after her, paying attention to their surroundings. They reach the other side of the building and indeed, there is light coming from one of the windows on the ground floor. Cassy jumps up on the window sill to look in, Wilhelmina also tries to have a look. Just for a second her eyes look over the window sill. There are people in there and indeed they are singing. She shudders. But maybe this is no dark ritual after all? But what if it is? She stays hidden below the window and listens for a while. The singing continues. Then people argue – she can't exactly hear what about. Then singing again.

Suddenly it stops. The Great Dust Bunny does not appear. People talk. Wilhelmina frowns and looks at Cassy. What now?

Wilhelmina hides in the darkness under the window, unsure about what to do.


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 11

minorvogonpoet

Hermione was sitting alone in her house, with her slippers on, stroking Minx. She had eaten a dinner of fish which was supposed to have come from the river, although whether that was supposed to be a commendation or not she wasn't sure. Now she was grateful that a tiring day was coming to a close. At last Fred Ireland had gone, having given the Lady of Justice a bit of cleaning. Hermione was grateful for the effort and forgave him for appearing at her window like some kind of ghost.
Then Sheriff Rowdybush's men arrived with a strange report of a barn glowing blue against the night sky. She'd glowered at them and asked “Have you checked if the farmers had been brewing illegal liquor?” She knew they made a range of strange substances from whatever harvest they had left. It wouldn't be the first time fumes from the products had caught light. She knew what would happen if the Sheriff's men went to find out. They would return swearing that no traces of illicit liquor had been found. However, they had been known to return from these searches rather merrier than might be expected.
Arsenio Philpott had put up posters advertising a performance of the Messiah. That pleased her, although she wasn't particularly religious, because the Messiah was definitely a classic piece. It gave the impression that Hooverville was a place of culture. She looked forward to going to listen to the performance. It reminded her of times in the past when she'd gone to performances of school plays when her son Chris was little.
She sighed and wondered where he was. He'd sent her a text message saying that he'd left Cambodia and was heading for South America. She supposed that might bring him closer to Hooverville, but not much. It would be good to see him again.


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 12

Superfrenchie

Soon enough, Lola has finished her book. So much for "just five minutes"...
She unplugs an ear, hears some more singing, and replugs it.

All right. Now, where was I?
Ah, yes: "She tries to send herself back to the cliff's edge again, hoping that maybe this time, she'll hear the words. Every night she hopes. When she was a child, they always said if you want something hard enough, if you ask Him to give it you, with all your heart, Nighthoover grants it to you. It's never worked so far. Then again, hope can't hurt. Well, not much anyway..."
Mmh, where to next?

Sarah wakes and stretches. spending half the night in the attic armchair is not as bad as it might seem. The armchair is very comfortable, and the attic is well insulated. Not too good for her back, though.
She crosses to the bedroom and slips into bed. The sheets are cold, but they will warm up soon.
And indeed, soon enough, she drifts off to sleep again.

The cliff. Her father. The backpack.
Once again, he disappears in the blink of an eye, only leaving the bag behind.
Once again, she crumbles to her knees, clutching the bag, crying, screaming, wanting to follow him but not knowing where he's gone.
Once again, she gets up after a while, and goes to the station.
She buys a ticket on the next train home, and when it leaves, she finds a seat in an empty compartment, locks the door, and goes to open the backpack.
And realises she left it in the station's waiting room.

In her mind, she knows it's not real, this time. But she is just as distressed every time it plays again in her dreams. The complete sense of loss. The helplessness. The desire to beat herself up for being so stupid and careless.

She gets home and goes straight to bed. No dinner, she couldn't swallow a thing.

Next morning, she opens the shop as usual. The show must go on.
And finds a bundle on the doorstep.
A piece of tablecloth, wrapped around something.
She takes it inside and opens it.
The backpack. And inside it, the book.
"The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch".
Her family heirloom. She's the only one left to look after it, now, of course.

And at the very bottom of the bag, a little paper packet with a single seed in it. Small and round and brown.
At lunch time, she goes to the drugstore to buy a pot and a bag of soil.
Then she comes back and plants the seed. Waters it a little, not too much. And places it on a window sill.
Hoover only knows what will come of that.


Lola looks up for the computer screen. What time is it? Maybe the neighbours are done with the music.
Unplug.
Silence.
Nice.
Unplug the other side.
Yes. This is good.
Her headache is gone, too. Music AND rhum was not a good idea. She'll need to remember that next time. Although, she probably won't because why learn from your mistakes when you can just keep making them over and over again...

So now Sarah has planted the seed she found in the backpack.
Hoover only knows what will come of that, indeed... Lola certainly doesn't.
What has she got herself into, agreeing to write this? It started as a challenge with friends, and now she's stuck in a story, and she'll be dusted if she knows where it's heading.
On the other hand, if she, the writer, has no idea what comes next, it should be at least just as much of a surprise for the potential readers.
Should it ever be published.


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 13

SashaQ - happysad

Sheriff Rowdybush moves from his position at the back of the First
Church of Nighthoover and goes back outside. He does a ‘foot patrol’ as far as the University to check all is well after the events of earlier in the day. He spots lights on in a few small offices and one of the lecture theatres, but apart from that he is pleased to find all is quiet.

He patrols back down Main Street towards the Police Station and is surprised to hear ‘Hallelujah’ being sung out into the street. He catches a glimpse of movement, and a sight of something pink in the light of the street lamps, but can’t make out who or what it was. He then realises the singing sound emerged from the direction of the China Shop.
He guesses it is Arsenio and his relatives practising, as he has seen the posters in the Police Station advertising their previous fundraising events. However, the music is more powerful than usual for them, so he listens in for a few moments, just to make sure all is well. There is some arguing, but then laughter, so the Sheriff is reassured.

He carries on wheeling down Main Street and checks in at the front desk of the Police Station where Sergeant Beatty is just about to take over from Sergeant Frisbee for the early night shift. They have no messages for him, so he goes round to his apartment and let’s himself in.

The first thing he does is put the teacup and saucer in a little cupboard with other Hoovermas gifts that he has collected for his relatives. He is glad that Arsenio wrapped the crockery up well, as it might have been broken after being carried around all day, but it is absolutely fine. He admires the delicate rose design again, then closes the cupboard door.

The Sheriff goes to the kitchenette and pours himself a bowl of Quisps and a glass of milk, then sits down to eat them while reading the Hooverville Honker. He has just read the story about the cow winning an Emma Award when he hears his phone beep. He checks for messages and finds one from Fred Ireland explaining about Paula’s involvement in the Lady of Justice fire, his birthday party and about how the Federal Bureau of Investigation May be arriving soon.

He ponders this development and eats his Quisps.


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 14

Dmitri Gheorgheni, Post Editor

MVP gets the Investigative Intuition Award for guessing that spirits may be involved here.

SashaQ gets the Continuity Award for remembering the china.

Everybody else gets the Keeping On Award for bravely soldiering on into the Hooverville night.

Pastor Sandy Beeches may tell us where he's been tomorrow. Right now, his author is just tired.

smiley - dragon


21 November: 8 pm – 9 pm (First Day)

Post 15

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

smiley - applause


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