I wish it happens that way. A foggy night, or better yet, a night with a thunderstorm approaching. And as It approaches the isolated cabin in the woods, the thunder echoes the footfall of the Devil's bleeding edge, razor-clawed, fingernail-hooves…it's coming…it's coming relentlessly nearer. Once human, his brow pulled down over his eyes like a gnarled branch, twisted by nature and hatred to cover the wild eyes of a rabid dog. Lightning flashes. The Devil is seen and unseen…my God…over there…no…right behind you...lightning - closer - inhumanly faster. Each flash...a glimpse of death. Thunder storm pounding faster like the sound of a human heart, beating in a panic. Fears…I'm about to be eaten…run, run, I can't move…he's got my jacket, pulling me back…you've gotta look behind you, you've gotta look behind you. The jacket's caught on a nail…yank it free, yank it free, yank it free. Spooky, bloodthirsty music splinters like twigs or human bones under The Beast. Closer and louder, closer and louder, closer and louder, closer and louder, closer and louder, closer and louder... Quick. Turn around. Turn around. Your flesh. The hot breath of the Devil…roaring in rage…out-stretched claws…ripping into you.
Catch your breath.
The truth is fear doesn't come at you like that. Not straight on when you expect it. At least mine doesn't. In fact, the first time I caught a glimpse of mine, it wasn't even quite dark yet. September sunset. Look up…wow…at the beautiful orange sky go to pinks and violets. Turn the tree tops to black. What's that? Pay attention to what's around you. Something's wrong. Shoot…I can't make it out. The day left me alone. It's that time of day when the shadows blur detail… There It is. Close your eyes…this isn't real…this isn't real…this isn't real. You've got to open your eyes. Open them. Open them. Open them. Open them…you'll see…it'll be gone. It's still there. You're panicking. No…over there where the brush begins. Stare into the darkness. Look among the dense, black-green bushes. Is that a twisted branch …or a twisted grin? Look…no, no, no, no, no. There…look at the ground. Is that spiked pieces of dead-gray shale…or razor sharp nails? The hot breeze of late summer's last kiss brushing the hairs on the back of my neck from behind. Jump. Turn. Heart Racing. Is that breeze the kiss of death on me…a force of nature drooling to rip me apart.
Whew.
I guess it all comes with the territory. Fear. Being a teen on edge. The edge of the Pine Barrens…the edge of life…the edge of the killing grounds of the Jersey Devil.
The late afternoon sunshine reaches in golden to the hall at Pine Barrens Junior High. It teases all to run outside to enjoy the early September sunshine, as if there was nothing to fear from a campus poised at the edge of dark, wilderness. Kneeling, John's not focused on sunshine. In fact, his head is stuck deep in the dark of his metal blue school locker. The door slams shut against his blond, spiked-hair.
John
“Ow. Asshole!”
John rubs his ear. Draws his head out of the locker. Sees his broadly smiling Pakistani friend.
Aleem
“It's Friday. Who! Who!”
John
“Terrorist”
Aleem
“That's not funny. And not accurate. To quote my father. They are Muslim perverts, perverting the true nature of jihad and Islam.”
John
“Your dad did not say that.”
Aleem
“He did. Were you there?”
John gathers his books. Stands up. Slams his locker door closed and smirks.
John
“No. Your dad said: They are Muslim perverts, perverting the true nature of jihad and Islam…don'tchaknow. He always says don't ya know. Why does he do that? I mean, like, we don't speak English that way around here.”
Now Aleem smirks with a glint in his eye.
Aleem
“I mean. Like. He could totally speak like you. But back at the mosque. That so totally would mark him as like a CIA operative. And like, how many of us can like be all about running to Canada to escape deportation.”
John rolls his eyes.
John
“Oh check it out. Here comes Jill. Shit and Gene not far behind her.”
Aleem
“Do NOT start with Gene. Those guys are bad news.”
Aleem and John walk down the hall towards Jill. John gives a little wave and smiles at Jill.
John
“Hola.”
Jill
“Ahhh. Hola. Como esta ustedes?”
John and Jill hug. Aleem stands nearby.
John
“Muy bien…gracias.”
Aleem
“Could I pass for Spanish?
Aleem puts his arm next to Jill's tan arm comparing skin colors.
John
“Better work on passing period….after that test in English.”
Jill
“Tests? Already? Oh that's right. You've got Meyers.”
Jill
“Hey!”
Gene purposely bumps into Jill with his football-sized shoulder.
Gene
“ Oh look. It's the fucking UN. A White surfer. A fucking Muslim and a Lesbo spic.”
Gene proudly struts by self-satisfied with his wit.
John
“Educated people say Latino. See, Latino embraces all of the cultures that have created Cubans.”
Gene rushes like a demon back against John so hard, John's books fall on the school hall floor.
Gene
“Don't fuck with me or I'll fuck with you.”
He stares at John. Satisfied with John's fear, Gene walks down the hall and outside. Aleem and Jill pick up John's books.
Jill bats her eyes in an exaggerated way.
Jill
“Thanks for defending my honor.”
Aleem
“Yeah, no one's gonna call you a spic with John around. Although he didn't argue about the lesbo part.”
Aleem, Jill and John walk towards the exit.
Jill
“Well, I AM on the Volleyball team. I guess that makes me one.”
John gives Aleem the evil eye.
John
“Make a remark about balls…and you're dead.”
Aleem
“Oh sure. Pick on the immigrant WHO was born in America I might add. What was up with that jerk calling us the UN?”
John shrugs his shoulders.
Aleem
“Do you think I could pass for French?”
The three friends walk out of school and into the dying, September sunlight. It's as if they don't have a care in the world…and nothing is watching them from the edge of the woods.
John puts on his sunglasses as the fading sunlight hits his eyes. Of course that doesn't explain why he also wears them on cloudy days…but the need to be kewl does. The trio makes their way across the playing field that runs right up to the Pine Barrens refuge. You can smell the freshly cut lawn and yet, instead of reminding John of growth and Spring. It's that September smell of a bit of decay that lets him know the earth's cycle is leaning towards death…no matter how warm the sun still feels. They walk out onto the country road that leads towards home….past dried up corn stalks that reveal a scare crow…hidden all Summer…with it's eyes partially picked at by crows and an angry face made evil by time and neglect. They don't notice the movement to their left along the edge of the Pine Barrens that has been following them since leaving the civilization of the manicured school grounds. Nor what was coming up behind them.
John
“It's funny but no matter how hot it is…once September hits…the summer is so over with.”
Aleem
”If you didn't know me. What would you think I was?”
John
“An asshole.”
Aleem
“Seriously.”
Jill
“A serious asshole.”
Aleem looks determined to get an answer.
John
“K. Ahaaaaaaaaaa. Indian. I never thought about Pakistanis. But you can't go by me. I asked Connie Lopez if she was Italian.”
Jill
“No you didn't.”
John smiles and nods his head.
Aleem
“Well, I don't think I look Indian or Pakistani. I think I look very American.”
John is distracted by movement in the wood's edge. The brush is close enough to reach out and touch any of them.
Jill
“What does an American look like?”
Aleem
“Him.”
Aleem gestures at John. John looks away from the woods and at Aleem.
John
“Who'him? Me'him?”
Just then John is jumped from behind. He tries to run but is knocked to the ground. Jill and Aleem scream. Their voices echo in the woods. John falls to the ground with it on his shoulders. He spins around in the dirt to face it/fight it.
John
“Asshole”
Jill and Aleem are catching their breath and laughing.
Stacey
“Oh no. That's what you call Aleem. I want my own curse-name.”
John
“I thought you'd be off busy with Yup Kippur? And get off me.”
Aleem
It's Yup Capers…those salty things you put on chicken.”
Stacey gets off John and brushes herself off.
Stacey
“Oh yes. This is the time of year Jews all over celebrate capers.”
Stacey does a little dance…spins around singing.
Stacey
“It's the harvest of the capers. We are truly blessed.”
Stacey puts hand out to John. Yanks him up.
Stacey
“It's Yom Kippur dude.
And it's not for a couple weeks.”
Jill
“How long have you been following us? “
The gang begins to walk past the corn field. The wind on the dried stalks make it sound like something unseen is moving towards them. Actually, it is.
Stacey
“Since school. Ran around the other exit when I saw you guys headed out the back. Then just waited in the Barrens. God. Anybody…or anything could be following you. Muhaaaaaaaaaaa.”
Stacey raises her hands like claws.
John
“Ahhhhh. But the one who gets it in the slasher movies…has always done something. And anything in those woods would have gotten you first.”
Stacey
“Oh, is that the rule?”
Stacey walks backwards in front of John poking at his ribs. All of a sudden she is grabbed into the brush and pulled down screaming for her life.
Aleem
“Gottcha.”
Aleem is laying on the ground with Stacey on top, struggling to get free.
John
“Why thank you Aleem.”
Aleem
“You are most welcome.”
Stacey brushes herself off.
Stacey
“Screw you guys.”
Aleem gets a big smile on his face as he gets up.
John
“Say it Aleem and you are a dead man.”
Stacey looks at Aleem and laughs. Punches Aleem in the shoulder.
Stacey
“Jerk”
Aleem
“You're the jerk.”
Stacey
“No. I'm the Jew. You're the Arab.”
Aleem
“Persian actually.”
Stacey
“What-ever”
The gang starts walking again. The scare crow's half plucked out eyes seem like they are following them. But they couldn't be.
Jill
“Actually. You-all ought to say whatever to each other's religions and stuff in that part of the world. That's what everyone should work for.”
Aleem
“My dad says…the only people who say whatever live in democracies. Some Muslims believe any law of man is putting man before God. The only laws should be made by clerics. Not in the US…but my dad says that's what the extremists think. I don't think that.”
John
“Yeah. I'll bet. You're just waiting for the chance.”
The Pine Barren's trees are so close to the road at this point, they create twilight and hang over the road. Aleem raises his had in a spooky gesture.
Aleem
“Boooooo. Anyway. Whatever is a myth. They think we're Godless. Or close to it.”
Oddly enough. Something Godless was very close to them…and headed closer.
Jennifer and Mike, THE couple, are the last to leave the school grounds. The sun has just about gone down, but it's still twilight with the sky's pumpkin orange haze highlighting the lifeless, doll's eye black silhouette of the Barrens.
Jennifer
"I told you I aced that test. Bill always let's me cheat...or I just do a sneaky eye thang on my own."
Mike
“You also said setting up the dance would take two minutes…it took more like two hours. No one is going to care what color the damned paper lanterns are.”
Jennifer playfully snuggles up to Mike…trying to get him to loosen up and laugh.
Jennifer
“What doooo they care about?”
Midway across the playing field, Mike stops and faces her. The lights around the flag pole come on, illuminating where the field ends and the Barren begins.
Mike
“Getting some.”
Jennifer leans into Mike. Puts her head against his chest…looking up into his face.
Jennifer
“Some what?”
Mike
“Some of this.”
Kissing as if he's tasting her, Mike puts his lips around her bottom lip, top lip and then full mouth. They hug and walk on towards the Barrens. A breeze blows the leaves. Jennifer stops.
Jennifer
“Hold up.”
Mike
“What's the matter?”
Jennifer
“We're not cutting through there.”
Jennifer points at the Barrens.
Mike
“We always take the short cut.”
Mike pulls her.
Jennifer
“Yeah, but it's usually light.”
Mike
“It's still light…kinda. Besides it's like…what a ten minute walk.”
Mike drags Jennifer by her outstretched arm. Jennifer twists and breaks free.
Jennifer
“No Mike. I'm serious. I'm not going in there.”
Mike
“What are you afraid of? Bears? Me?”
Jennifer
“No not you. I don't want you to go in there either.”
Mike
“Be-cause if something was in there. We're safe out here?”
Jennifer
“Yes. We just have to stay out here. Come on. Let's walk along the road.”
Jennifer starts to cut across the playing field.
Mike
“Look. I'm gonna prove to you nothing is in here. I'll meet you on the road where the path comes out by that corn field.”
Jennifer
“I'm not waiting in the dark.”
Mike
“I'll be waiting for Y-O-U. Hello, taking the short cut here.”
Mike points to his feet and disappears into the thick woods of the Barrens. Jennifer stamps off angrily. Hears a twig break, looks behind her, looks towards the Barrens and in front of her. Runs towards the road. It seems much darker now. Violet tones begin to mix in with the Orange sky. There are no street lights on this rural road.
Mike makes his way along the short cut path. Skiddle wrappers, a McDonald coke cup, cig pack. “These people are pigs.” Mike thinks to himself as he looks at the ground instead of where he is going. Something makes him look behind him. He is in the middle of the woods…surrounded. The first star appears in the darkening violet sky. Oddly, the enveloping night feels like a cage being lowered around him. Limiting his movements…ability to get away. Jerking back around, he stops frozen in his tracks. What is that? What is that? Who is that? Something is squatting down in the middle of the path.
Mike
“Who are you?”
Did it move? Or is it the twilight, moving, flickering through the leaves?
Mike
“You'd better fucking tell me.”
Is it squatting? Or on its toes, poised to jump out with its claws outstretched? Mike picks up a rock. He chucks it with all of his might. It hits the stump with a thud of dead wood. It doesn't move. Mike walks up to it. It's a tree stump he's passed a million times. He laughs. Then jumps as he hears the flutter of wings, somewhere above. He looks up and sees nothing. What w-a-s that? He walks further along the path….very aware of everything around him. The trail takes a slight dip, down, deeper, deeper, darker into a fern gully. It is nearly dark, but a rising full moon has shed a bit of light. He doubles his pace as he climbs back up towards the edge of the Barren. He's almost out. Just a few more steps. Almost…he hears something russle loud behind him. Should he turn around or run out of the Barren? He almost runs. Turns around to look behind him. Sees a raccoon. Laughs. Turns back around and walks into a tall, dead figure. It's branches stretched and gnarled. What? Oh, the dead oak. He walks out into the corn field with the moon shining on the bits of dew settling on the dead corn stalk. He's made it! His heart races, he stops frozen in his steps. He sees someone in the middle of the corn field. Who is that? Whew, he remembers. It's the scare crow. He walks up towards it, grabs its leg as if it's an old friend and twirls it around.
Mike
“You scared the heck outta me guy.”
He takes his hand off the leg. His hand is sticky and wet. He looks at his palm in the moonlight. Blood. He looks up slowly at the skinny, lifeless legs of the scare crow. A mop of hair hangs over its face. Standing on his toes, he pulls back on the hair. The red hair sticks to the face matted. He brushes the hair aside. Its eyes are gouged out. Claw marks dug deep into the left cheek and hair stuck to the matted blood. It's Jennifer. There's a double trail of heel marks through the corn field where she was dragged from the safety of the road.
John takes off for school on his black bike under the bluest September sky. The Victorian Bed & Breakfasts whiz by as he picks up speed...
blue and white striped awnings matching blue and white striped cushioned white wooden rockers,
yellow and white striped awnings matching white and yellow striped cushioned white wooden rokers,
red and white striped awnings matching red and white striped cushioned white wooden rockers,
green and white striped awnings matching green and white striped cushioned white wooden rockers.
A green lawn, sharp edged...not a blade out of place.
Another green lawn, sharp edged...not a blade out of place.
A green lawn, sharp edged...not a blade out of place.
Another green lawn, sharp edged...not a blade out of place.
Something breaks him out of his daydream trance. He hears his father yelling from his neighbor's driveway.
Dad
“Too cool to say good-bye to your dad?”
John jams on the breaks, leans to the side, and skids to a stop in a puff of dirt.
John
“No. I hate school. And I've gotta get there.”
John's dad looks up at the cobalt blue, cloudless sky.
Dad
“Hate? Who could hate on a day like today? And you rushing to school...that doesn't sound right. Not rushing to meet Miss Bubble Gum Breath from the Internet?”
John waves in a “Oh come on” way at the true statement dad has just said. Sees a very pregnant Mrs Michael kiss her husband good-bye at the doorsteps. Her husband and John's dad are off to New York City today. The picket fences rush by like exclamation points as if racing on a black bike is really making a statement about how cool you are. John races up to the school, turns his bike and skids in front of Ashley, (Bubble Gum Breath), kicking up small stones.
Ashley
“You o.k.? You almost fell.”
John
“Meant to do that.”
John looks annoyed. He puts his bike in the rack and locks the wheels to it.
Ashley
“Do you know I've already got a test on Friday!”
John
“Teachers love to pull that stuff on you. Makes them feel all important that you have to study for them.”
Ashley
“I also have to do something on current events. got the Middle East. What could be news there? Hello, they're killing each other. That's what they always do.”
Ashley and John talk in the hall for a few minutes. Aleem punches John in the shoulder and walks by like nothing happened.
Ashley
“Guys.”
Ashley smiles and goes into her class. John walks down the hall and goes into his at the same time his father and his friend are on an express train for New York City. John gazes out the window, as students wander into Homeroom for roll call and then English. “Wish I were surfing”, John thinks. His father and friend run to the Path train that goes under the World Trade Center. People hold the doors open…so they can jump on.”
** 8:46.26 a.m., American Airlines flight 11 hits the 110 story north tower, 12 seconds, 0.7. **
In the clearing in the middle of the Pine Barrens, the earth cracks and heaves open in blood-curdling, uncontrollable rage.
In John's homeroom, people are going a little crazy cause the teacher is talking to other teachers out in the hall. The teacher comes in looking very upset. Eric, a dark-haired Goth, leans over to John.
Eric
“What's her deal?”
John
“Oh a desk is probably out of place. I don't know what she'd do if she had my dad's job. He sells for a bunch of different agencies in NY and Jersey. They're all different. Nothings ever set. Plus going into NYC…there's always something crazy going on.”
Teacher
“Guys, Quiet…please. No really. Anyone wishing to go home, may do so now. If you'd rather be here until your parents pick you up…that's o.k. too. The class starts to mumble. I guess you haven't heard but an airliner has crashed into the World Trade Center. John says to Eric.”
John
“My dad is in NY. With Mr. Michaels. Remember Mrs Michaels…in elementary school?”
Eric
“Yeah, she was nice.”
Teacher
“Shhh. Shhh. So we're giving you the option of leaving now.”
A stoner yells out.
Leslie
“So we can hang wherever and we won't get in trouble? Cool.”
Gene the football player yells out.
Gene
“Since when did you worry about getting in trouble?”
Class bursts out laughing Leslie puts her right hand under her desk, points down to her desk with her left hand. Gives him the finger under her desk.
Teacher
“So leave…but walk, walk…or stay. And remember, we are a very strong nation.” Eric leans over to John again.
Eric
“She is freak'n losing it.”
John
“I don't know what to do.”
The entire class gets up. Eric gets up.
Eric
“Later.”
John
“Well, then I'm leaving too.”
***9:02.54: United Airlines flight 175 hits south tower, 6 seconds, 0.9.***
Deep in the Pine Barren's, the earth explodes. A sewage smell bursts out in a cloud of yellow smoke - the color of plants when they are dying.
The school grounds look like it's 3 o' clock. Mini vans are pulling up and people are gathering in groups talking. A mother runs out of her car and hugs her daughter crying. John shakes his head as if to say what the *uck...walks to go over to unlock his bike. Turns around as a car screeches behind him. It's Aleem and his father. From inside the car…
Aleem's father
“Come in. You can put your bike in the back.”
Aleem's father jumps out of the car. He's shaking, really upset, helps John with the bike. John notices an American flag clipped on his side view mirror.
John
“Thanks so much.”
John gets in.
John
“Aleem. What the heck?”
Aleem's father gets in.
John
“Nice flag. I've never seen one attached to a mirror before.”
Aleem's father
“Being seen as a patriot is paramount in times like these don'tchaknow.”
John and Aleem look at each other. Aleem shrugs. The country road is completely clogged with cars. A loud thunder is heard overhead. John sticks his head out of the window.
John
“Aleem. Man, that was military jets….going hmm West. Towards Washington man.”
Aleem's father
“This is Bin Laden. I've been saying this for weeks…months. It's been in every Arab paper. He's been boasting about it.”
Aleem says something to him in another language John doesn't recognize.
Aleem's father
“It can happen here. We are putting the laws of man before God. That's what they think.”
Aleem
“Who thinks?”
Aleem's Father
“Al Qaeda.”
John
“Who's this Al guy?”
Aleem's father finally makes his way onto the road.
Aleem's father
“Not a guy. A gang of…what you call thugs. They are extreme Muslims. They believe there is their law and it's based on what they think Allah….to you God demands. They'd slit my throat. I'm a Muslim...but not to them. They think if they commit suicide to fight…everyone who is not like them don'tchaknow…they please Allah and be greeted by 70 Virgins in Heaven.”
Aleem's father let's every freak'n car go in front of him as not to offend. John whispers to Aleem.
John
“You get 70 Virgins when you die? God, if I'm good and go to heaven I'll get one. And she's the Virgin Mother. Didn't even have sex on earth. I r-e-a-l-l-y have to get a better religion.”
Aleem whispers back.
Aleem
“Sometimes my dad forgets he's in America. Lot's of people were blowing up things back in Pakistan.”
John
“Oh wait.”
John puts hand up for Aleem to stop talking. Starts punching in numbers on his cell phone
Aleem
“What.... I didn't hear it ring.”
John
“Didn't. My mom was about to call me. I freak her out when I make the phone ring in her hand.”
John
“Hi. I know. Don't know how I know. Aleem's dad. He picked us up at school. It's one big traffic jam. Don't be. He's not. Cause I know. He's not. Cause I'll be with dad when he dies. O.K. but you're getting upset over nothing. Who's that crying? Oh, yeah…she'd better take it easy she's pregnant. He was supposed to…a meeting at the World Trade Center…k, well, we'll be home…whenever. K. Me too. Bye.”
Aleem
“How did you know she was going to call?”
John
“I just know somethings ahead of time.”
Aleem
“You can predict the future?”
John
“No. Didn't say that.”
Aleem
“But you can tell when some things are going to happen?”
John
“Yeah. Like the phone thang. I always know…”
Aleem
“When did you get the phone? I thought you didn't want one.”
John
“Dad saw on the news that some kid fought off an attacker with his cell phone…kid called 911.”
Aleem's dad
“I read that as well. Very good job don'tchaknow.”
John
“So I had to have one. Good thing he didn't use a sword like in the pirate movie we saw. My dad. I'd be carrying a freak'n sword…saying...eye you pervs beware.”
Aleem
“So if you can see the future. You could tell me when Mary Anne will agree to date me.”
John
“I told you I can't.”
Aleem
“Try.”
John closes his eyes and dramatically puts his hands on either side of his head.
John
“I do see. I see….”
Aleem
“Yes?”
John
“Hell. And….What's this…there's no fires. It's frozen over. Hell is frozen over.”
John enters his house. His little sister Kathy runs up to him jumping up and down.
Kathy
“10 planes crashed into buildings.”
John
“What?”
John runs into the living room where his mom and a very pregnant Mrs Meyers are sitting in front of the T.V. set. Mrs Meyers is crying uncontrollably.
John
“10 planes hit buildings?”
John's Mom
“No. Two. They keep showing the plane hitting the building. She thinks every time they show it, another one has hit a building. I really don't want her watching this. Could you take her out?”
John
“Out? Where?”
John's Mom
“Near-by. And check in so I can tell you when your father calls.”
John looks at Mrs Meyers.
John
“Mrs Meyers. You know they didn't leave until…like just before 8. And there's a huge Starbucks in a Mall below the World Trade Center where the train let's you out. You know he has a thing for frappe latta whatever.”
Mrs Meyers laughs. And nods still choked up, unable to speak.
John's Mom
“John. Please.”
John's Mom gestures towards Kathy.
John
“K. Wanna go to Aunt Margaret's?”
Kathy jumps up and down.
Kathy
“Yes. And. I. Want. To. Skip. All. The. Way.”
John
“I don't skip.”
Kathy
“Yes you do. You do.”
John
“I don't. Never.”
Kathy
“We played Wizard of Oz down Auntie's basement. And you skipped.”
John opens the front door. Calls back to mother.
John
“Later. You be quiet about that", he adds looking at his sister.”
Kathy
“Annnnd we got married in the Emerald City.”
Kathy jumps up and down…down the porch stairs. It's a huge porch befitting a Victorian home from 1897.
John
“You are my sister. I cannot marry you.”
Kathy
“But. We did.”
John
“We didn't. And quit talking about it.”
Kathy
“Well, what should I talk about?”
John
“Anything else.”
John looks up as a thunderous pair of military jets whoosh overhead.
John
“More jets. Towards Washington.”
Kathy
“I wanna talk about…..skipping. Skipping.”
John
“You skip. And I'll watch.”
Kathy
“You skip too.”
John
“If I skip. I can't watch you skip. And you skip good.”
Kathy
“K….I can skip sideways too.”
Kathy jumps and kinda skips sideways as John walks past the gates to a Victorian rose garden. The unseen fountain splashes. Nothing changes here he thinks.
Kathy
“See? Aren't I good.”
John
“You're great.”
Kathy spins and skips forward.
Kathy
“Krystal says babies come out of momma's butts.”
John
“What?”
Kathy
“K-r-y-s-t-a-l s-a-ys that babies come out of momma's butts.
John
“Who's Krystal?”
Kathy
“My friend. Her big brother goes to school with you. Mamma's butts. Mamma's butts. Babies come from mamma's butts.”
John
“What's his name?”
Kathy
“Gene. He plays football.”
John
“She's right in his case. Gene did come from his mamma's butt.”
A woman in Halifax Nova Scotia views the planes hitting the Word Trade Tower over and over again. Each time it hits, she feels her sister die all over again.
** 9:59.04: South tower collapses, 10 seconds, 2.1. **
Deep in the Pine Barrens, decaying, yellow smoke is shooting out of the cracks in the earth with hell-fire force. The crack widens and the head of the Jersey Devil appears. It is a combination of all of God's most hateful creatures when they are angered. A pit bull's breath just before he rips into flesh, a wolf's slanted eyes just before he attacks, a Grizzly's jaws opening wide to devour. An unearthly roar at it's birth...the birth of hatred on a global scale.
John
"What the heck?"
Kathy
"What the heck? What the heck are we hecking at again."
John
It's Aleem's dad's car. Last time I saw it he had 1 American flag on it. Now he's got...one, two, three, four....American flags on it."
Aunt Margaret's uses red, white and blue on her Queen Anne Victorian. Just like...you guessed it: the Union Jack. Oh, you thought like the American flag? See, you can never out-guess Aunt Margaret cause even she doesn't know what she's doing or why.
Aunt Margaret
"Kids"
She runs to hug John and Kathy, trips because she's not stepping on the welcome mat that has a picture of the Queen on it. Almost knocks John and Kathy back down the wooden steps of the porch.
Aunt Margaret
"Oh did I step on you? I didn't want to step on the Queen's face. I mean I love the welcome mat...but I did buy it in Ireland and I'm beginning to wonder what they mean by putting the Queen's face where you'd wipe your shoes? Not much of a tribute."
Kathy
"Funny Auntie."
Kathy runs in the house. Aunt Margaret looks at John.
Aunt Margaret
"You're getting so big. Like a young man."
John
"Since yesterday? I see you everyday."
Aunt Margaret
"Is it any less true?"
Kathy yelling out in the distance.
Kathy
"Niagra Falls. Niagra Falls."
Aunt Margaret and John run to the back of the house and the kitchen. The kitchen sink is over-flowing with water...the faucet has been left on.
Aunt Margaret
"My goodness. You'd think they'd make that with a shut-off valve. Hey, not a bad idea."
John makes a shutting off a faucet motion with his hands.
John
"Auntie. Shut it. Shut it off."
Aunt Margaret
"Right. When you're right. You're right."
Aunt Margaret runs over to shut off the water.
Aunt Margaret
"Isn't it awful about NY."
John
"Dad's there. Or..."
Aunt Margaret
"No."
John
"I'm sure..."
Aunt Margaret
"He is. I'd feel it if he wasn't."
John
"I...I'm the same way."
Aunt Margaret
"See, we think alike."
John looks at all of the water on the floor...and thinks "I hope not."
They all sit down around a coffee table. The furniture is called English heritage - an American invention.
Aunt Margaret.
"I know what little treasures want."
Aunt Margaret jumps up and goes towards the kitchen.
Kathy
"Happy birthday."
Kathy points at candles on a sideboard near kitchen door. John turns around.
John
"They're called candles."
Aunt Margaret
"I'll light the happy birthdays."
John whispers.
John
"More like happy unbirthday. A very merry unbirthday to you..."
Kathy
"Make 'em smell pretty too Auntie."
Aunt Margaret
"I'll spray a little perfume on them."
Aunt Margaret disappears into the kitchen.
John
"Little treasures? What am I like two."
Kathy
"No you're..."
Kathy holds up 10 fingers, tries to hold up 4 more.
Kathy
"You're old. Too many fingers..."
Aunt Margaret sprays the candles with perfume, lights the candles and returns with a tray of chocolate covered strawberries.
Aunt Margaret
"Srawberries...from my garden."
John
"Wow. Great."
Kathy
"Can't get them."
Kathy tries to grab a strawberry. They are stuck to the dish.
John says to Kathy.
"Are you a retard? Here..."
John goes to grab one. It is stuck. John to Aunt Margaret.
John
"Did you use wax paper? Like once you dip them, you put them on wax paper for them to cool."
Aunt Margaret
"Nope. Right from the garden...to the chocolate...to the plate."
John
"Well, they are garden fresh...."
John realizes his mouth is gritty.
Kathy
"Me next. Me next."
John
"Auntie. Did you wash them before you dipped them....just asking. I mean they do taste really fresh."
Aunt Margaret
"No. You'll wash away all of the good stuff. Besides, strawberries grow on the ground...not in it."
Aunt Margaret grabs one. Chews on strawberries, chocolate and dirt.
Aunt Margaret
"Oh my."
Kathy
"Now me."
John breaks off a piece of chocolate, rubs the strawberry side on his shirt. Hands it to Kathy.
Kathy
"Thank you my husband."
Aunt Margaret laughs remembering the story of their marriage.
Kathy points towards the side board with the candles.
Kathy
"Harry! Harry! Harry!"
John
"Harry Potter?"
Aunt Margaret
"Oh my!"
John turns around, the candles and side board are on fire. John runs to the kitchen with Kathy close behind. He slips on the wet floor and goes head first crashing into the kitchen sink cabinet. He gets to his feet. Grabs what-ever-it's-called-the -hose -thing you wash dishes with it. Turns on the water, points it at the sideboard. Kathy is in the way.
John
"Duck."
Kathy, hits the wet floor, spread eagle.
Kathy
"Duck, duck goose...you're it."
The water goes over Kathy's head and hits the fire on the sideboard. Sizzle, smoke, the fire's out. Aunt Margaret applauds.
Aunt Margaret
"A feat worthy of a tray of strawberries."
John's cell phone rings.
John
"He isssss? No. We'll be right home. At Aunt Margaret’s. No, can't wait...Oh, how about Mr. Meyers? Oh great...."
To Aunt Margaret.
John
"Dad's home"
Aunt Margaret
"Oh thank God."
To Kathy.
John
"Come on. We're going home"
He grabs Kathy's hand.
John
"Everything was great. This was fun."
Aunt Margaret
"Come back later."
John
"K"
To Kathy.
John
"Say something. Fart. Do something."
Kathy
"I can't fart bye."
John and Kathy walk down the porch steps.
John
"Do you have to repeat everything I say."
Kathy
"Do you have to repeat everything I say."
John
"Oh great."
Kathy
"Oh great."
John
"I love Aunt Margaret. But visiting her is like a roller coaster. Once is kewl but if you don't get off the ride...you're gonna hurl."
Kathy
"Johnny's gonna hurl."
Kathy giggles.
John and Kathy walk by a dense bit of brush at the side of a red and white-painted Victorian mansion with white rockers on the front porch. Something jumps out of the brush and knocks John down.
John
"Get off me Gene. Eww. You smell like Gas."
Gene
"I'm protecting you."
Gene and John get up. It looks like Gene has been running and has spilled gas down the leg of his right jean leg.
John
"Protecting me against who?"
Gene
"Races."
John
"Races. Who? White people? Black? people?"
Gene
"Saw the nigger go into your house. What's with your parents."
John
"That's Mrs Meyers. You remember her from elementary school. She's a friend."
Gene
"See, it's people like your parents that let all of the races in. Well, I'm gonna protect you from all of that."
John
"Gene, I'm not gonna argue with you about that...wait a minute..."
John realizes he's on the road where there is a Hindu temple.
John
"Gene, you didn't do something stupid."
Gene
"Fucking Arabs."
John
"That's a temple...for Hindus."
Gene
"For towel-heads. Muslims. That's who bombed New York and the Pentagon...and a plane somewhere else."
Kathy
"New York. Daddy's in New York."
John
"No. He's home. Gene they aren't Arabs. They're Hindus.”
Gene
"Well, if you know so much, what race are they."
John
"Indian? I don't know. I don't keep track of races like you do."
Gene
"Well, fuck you. Fuck your father. I'm protecting America."
Gene runs off.
John
"You're not protecting me. And Aleem's a Muslim and he'd never hurt anyone."
Kathy
"And you said the word we NEVER say."
John
"Kathy shut up."
Kathy starts to walk.
Kathy
"Mamma's butt. Mamma's butt. Babies come out of a mamma's butt."
John
"Kathy, that's sooo wrong."
John grabs his little sister's hand and starts to skip with her.
John
"It's mamma's butt, mamma's butt GENE comes out of his mamma's butt.
A fire engine rushes by. Up ahead, they see Aleem's father's car. It's been pulled over by a Sunday "cop"...one who handles the traffic near the Catholic church so they don't kill each other rushing...getting out of the church parking lot. Leave in peace...yeah right.
John
"What the...is everybody going crazy today?"
Sunday Cop to Aleem's father.
Sunday Cop
"You people are not going to destroy this country."
Aleem's father
"I am an American don'tchaknow. And I know why you pulled me over."
Sunday Cop
"Number one, don't point at me. Number two, I pulled you over because you have so many freak'n flags on your back window, you can't see out of it. And that's a hazard."
John looks. His eyes widen. A car that had nothing on it this morning, is covered with different American flag stickers and is flying four American flags. One flag from each side view mirror, one from the antenna and one somehow lodged in the back license plate.
Aleem's dad.
"Well, I am am American since 1994."
John
"I'm an American since 1987. My birthday."
Points to sister.
"She's one since 1995."
Sunday Cop
"You being wise?"
Kathy
"Sometimes he's stupid."
Sunday Cop
"I know you. You're John's boy. Hey, John Boy. Anyone ever call you that? Do you write?"
John
"Never."
Aleem's dad
"I bought all of these flags at the Cosmic Surf Shop. You do not get more American than the Cosmic Surf Shop. We do not have that in Pakistan.”
John and Aleem look at each other.
John and Aleem at the same time.
"But they should."
Sunday Cop car's radio calls for a real cop. He goes back listens, says something into it. Walks back.
Sunday Cop
"Take some of the stickers off so you can see outside. Got it."
Aleem's Dad
"Will do. That is not a possibility...that's it a probability."
Sunday Cop looks confused. Well why wouldn't he be? Probability is a big word.
Sunday Cop
" Some idiot just set the Indian church on fire."
Sunday Cop walks back to car. Does a u'y and heads down Salem Road towards the Hindu Temple.
John can hear his father's voice as they turn the corner.
John
"Let's run."
Kathy and John run and reach their porch. John's father is the center of attention, as usual, telling a story, as usual to a bunch of neighbors.
John's father
"So the train pulls up in the station under the World Trade Center, and this place is huge...250,000 people go through the World Trade Center complex everyday."
Neighbor
"Oh my God."
John's father
"Well, that's why the bastards picked it."
Without missing a beat he turns to John and Kathy.
"You don't say bastards. I say bastards."
John's dad goes to tell the story. Turns back to John and Kathy.
John's dad
"And these are extremists who call themselves Muslims. Muslims don't kill people for no reason any more than you or I would."
John has a headache. Too much information he thinks.
John's dad readdress his audience.
John's dad
"So the train pulls up right under the World Trade Center. And the train is packed. People standing the whole New York deal. And all of a sudden these New York City cops and firemen start yelling at the train engineer don't open the doors, don't open the doors. And waving us back. They're yelling pull, back, pull back. Go back to Jersey. The engineer says something. And they pound on the train and scream you pull back now. Just do it. So we pull back through the tunnel. Under the river. Get out at Journal Square. We're on the platform and we see the second plane hit the World Trade Center.
John's mother walks over and puts her arm around his dad. John and Kathy run up and do the same. John's dad rubs John's buzz cut...hugging.
John's dad
"I don't want you kids to hate. Hate turns people into monsters. It burns them up inside."
John will never forget those words. It's a part of his dad that lives in him. And the wisdom will save his life...soon
If you were to walk deep, no...keep going...even deeper into the Pine Barrens on 9/11, you'd see a sight you'd have trouble believing. The head of some horribly disfigured animal, rising out of the cracked ground, snapping at the wind, drooling to bite off a piece of innocent flesh. In your ignorance, you might even approach it. After all, it's stuck in the earth, trapped and harmless, if not obviously vicious. As long as it stays in its place...you think...let it howl and snap. If you were to kneel next to it...or somehow use it...what harm could it do to you? But on 9/11, you'd see the earth crack further, the shoulders freed...rise from cracks in the earth and a vulture's claw, rip chunks of the earth as it climbs out of the hole. It's chest...heaving with death's breath, tiny rat hairs covering it and moving with the disease of hatred that is sooo easy to catch. Triumphant...it climbs out...hind claws perched on the edge of our world, rising, casting a shadow on you and your ignorance. You crane your neck back at its feet, look up past the razor, boney claws, across the heaving gray-black, rat hair covered chest...helpless to look in its doll's eyes...dead, lifeless vacant, merciless. It spreads its wings of human skin. Bumps appear in its outspread wings. Bumps connected by pulsating veins and arteries the color of dried, dead, cold, blood blue/violet. They aren't bumps, they have mouths opening behind yellowed plastic wrap. They aren't just mouths. They are faces...one, two three, four, 19 faces screaming in anger behind the skin. They are the faces of the 19 hijackers of 9/11. I guess they died and they're with their virgin. They're with the Jersey Devil...people have created a monster...from hatred.
Gene runs into the Pine Barrens. He doubles back towards the Hindu Temple he has set on fire. Fucking Muslims he thinks as he lays in the grass to watch it burn. The fire companies from surrounding towns are fighting it. One fireman is receiving oxygen...laying down next to his truck. Suddenly there's a crash. The roof caves. Firemen rush into the blaze...one comes out carrying another fireman who is overcome by smoke. Gene flips over on his back laughing. Fucking Muslims won't be chanting there. Fuck Allah. What's that? Something blocks out the moonlight for a second overhead. The crickets stop chirping. The woods have grown deadly silent. Gene lifts his neck. Looks past his body and sees something in the middle of the trail. Oh, it's that fucking tree stump. He lays his head back down on the leafy ground. No wait that's by the school he thinks. He raises his head again. Looks past his body. The tree stomp is gone. He puts his head back down on the ground. What the fuck? he thinks. Something has blocked out the moonlight overhead for a second again. He lifts his head up. A narrowing, yellow, hateful eye, looks back at him. A razor clawed foot has stepped on his sneaker. Another razor claw is digging into his chest like five bee stings at once. Now it pulls it's nails back out slightly, then all of a sudden rips down his chest as the beak rips into his chest-its eye into his eye...lifeless, emotionless...like a doll's.
The Sunday cop that pulled over Aleem's dad races down a rural road towards the burning Hindu Temple. Something black flutters in front of his windshield, it hits it scratching a deep gouge in the glass, hits the top of the police car's roof, hit's the light shattering it in smithereens. He loses control of the wheel for a second, swerves at 100 mph towards an on-coming farmer's pick-up, beeeeep, swerves back onto his side of the road, swerves back to the right, then back to the left side of the road, spinning into an open field. Corn stalks race up to the car and then under it in a crackling river of grass, splintering in pieces onto the wind shield. A cloud of dust. Silence.
Sunday Cop gets out of the car. A full moon shines above.
Sunday Cop
“Fucking Canadian geese.”
Whoosh. Something flies overhead…sounding like just past his ear. He looks up and sees a shadow…it's some huge bird covering much of the sky overhead. He turns and runs back towards the car, and dives under it, sliding, sliding, sliding across corn stalks, his head is under the car, now his torso, now his leg, almost safe, under the car I'll be safe he thinks. Aw..something is digging into his ankle. It is razor sharp. He grabs onto the car's tire. His fingertips turn red with the tug- of- war between- him- and- whatever- has him's pressure. His nail digs into the tire's rubber...gets caught and rips off. Keeping one clawed leg on the ground, the Jersey Devil lifts him up by his heel. He sees the boney, razor clawed leg, the heaving chest covered with rat's hair. He's kicking widely, frantically. He is lifted up, inspected, until his eye is directly in front of the yellow, lifeless doll's eye of the Jersey Devil. The Jersey Devil's eye narrows in hatred. Emotionless, it watches as the cop is lowered, and the other claw digs into his chest, splits open his skin, and his organs drop out. The moon shines down on the dry, corn stalks, the lifeless, open field, and the Jersey Devil feeding on more hatred.
John lies on the bed in his corner room. From it, he can see the Cape May lighthouse that has kept Americans safe for over 100 years. His eyes rest for a moment on the Philadelphia Eagles team flag he got when he went to the game with his dad last year, the Christina poster he found sexy 'til his mom, who never knows all the words to a song, started singing “Got to get Dirty” while washing the front windows. Bush is on t.v.
Bush
“We will bring these evil-doers to justice…or bring justice to them.”
“Hatred makes people into monsters. Hatred burns people up inside.” His father's words come to mind for some reason as Bush speaks. The phone rings.
Aleem
“Dude”
John
“Calling from prison…you, you flag-waving immigrant you.”
Aleem
“We used the Sanity clause.”
Aleem and John
“There ain't no Sanity Clause.”
John
“I love the Marx Bros. Really... is your dad o.k.?”
Aleem
“He's o.k. But that cop isn't.”
John
“What happened?”
Aleem
“Click on Channel 5.”
John points remote, clicks on 5. He sees...a tarp covered body in a field. The Sunday traffic "cop’s" shoes sticking out from underneath. The battered Sunday "cop's" car. A really hot news reporter.
John
“Wow. She's hot.”
Aleem
“Focus. That's the cop that stopped my dad. Witnesses said they saw some monster on him…”
John
“He wasn't a real cop. Shhh…”
John raises sound level as the reporter says what happened.
John
“Has the whole world gone nuts? Monsters…terrorizing my town?”
Aleem
“Jennifer's dead too. They got her near the school. In that corn field we pass…you know…with the scare crow?”
John
“Oh my God. Sounds like they were describing the Jersey Devil.”
Aleem
“No place is safe. I'm not coming out of my house.”
John
“Well, I won't live like that. That's not my idea of America.”
Aleem
“Well what are your big plans?”
John
“I don't know. But I'm not living like that.”
Aleem
“Well?”
John
“Call, Jill and Stacey.”
Aleem
“Why.”
John mumbles into the phone.
John
“We're gonna bring them to justice or bring justice to them.”
Aleem
“What are you talking about?”
John
“I'm not gonna be terrorized in my own town. And I'm not going to run away from my fears.”
Aleem
“Waiting…hoping I get a clue soon.”
John
“We're gonna run towards the devil.”
Aleem
“Tonight?????”
John
“No not tonight you idiot. I'm afraid of the dark.”
Up in a high rise in New York City, a little girl who was in the elementary school near the World Trade Center hands her mother a crayon drawing of flames coming out of the building and angels, hand -in- hand flying around the buildings.
Mommy
“What are these…angels?”
Girl
“Yes. I saw them today. They protected us until we could run away.”
Mommy
“Really. Where?”
Girl
“They were coming out of the buildings that were on fire. They were coming out of the windows together and flying…flying all the way down to the ground.”
John, Aleem, Jill and Stacey meet near the flagpole on their school grounds near the edge of the Pine Barrens. It's deserted. There's no school because of the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington as well as the one brave, everyday Americans prevented in an airplane over Pennsylvania. The flag isn't even at half staff because the custodians and everyone else left the school so fast. John lowers the flag to half staff.
John turns to greet Aleem, Jill and Stacey who all arrive almost at the same time.
John
“Hey.”
Aleem
“Hey”
Jill
“Hey”
Stacey
“Hey, Hey, Hey? Oh now I remember why I got up early, on a non-school day…the witty banter among my friends.”
John
“Oh…the intellectual.”
Stacey
“Oh that's right. Make fun. Make a stereotype. The intellectual, unattractive Jew.”
John
“I think you're hot…”
Jill
“Can we get going here…wherever the heck we're going.”
Stacey
“Jill. Now don't be rude. You interrupted John. I'm hot and what else were you saying?”
John
“Very knowledgeable about the Jersey Devil.”
Stacey
“Sure. Change the subject. Break my heart. Anyways. There's not much to know. It's a myth…pretty crappy one…started back in colonial times…The Jersey Devil supposedly has a goat's head…runs around doesn't hurt anyone.”
John
“It killed two people last night.”
Stacey
“No way.”
Jill and Aleem
“Waaaaaaay.”
John
“Now we just have to find it. But where?”
Stacey
“Well, it was born on the Leed's Farm in the Pine Barrens. It's a walk from here…but do you remember when I wrote the report on myths? So I know where it is…I went there.”
John
“Really? What was it like?”
Stacey
“Nothing much left. Just some foundation. There's supposed to be a cave. But I never found it. Devil worshippers leave hateful things there. Hitler's books. Props to serial murderers. Osama Bin Laden when he was fighting the Russians…we were on his side then. Pictures of Saddam's torture victims. They've made that place evil.”
Jill
“Or maybe Mrs Leeds did?”
Aleem
“So let's go.”
They all start to walk towards the Barrens.
Jill
“Anybody got gum?”
John goes to reach into his pocket.
John
“I do.”
They keep walking. A condom falls out of his pocket.
Jill
“Wow. Lookie here.”
John
“It's not for me. It's for my friends.”
Jill
“Calling it a friend now.”
John
“Give me that.”
John takes the condom back from Jill.
John
“Here's your damned gum.”
They all enter the woods. Soon it has surrounded them.
John
“Not my friend….my friends.”
John makes a gesture like all of them.
Stacey
“Oh. How thoughtful. And sadly uninformed if you think I could use that.”
John
“My guy friends. I carry it for them.”
Jill
“What? In case they just all of a sudden they get excited?”
Jill jumps up. As they make their way around a hundred year old pine that grows in the middle of the trail.
Aleem
“Men do get excited at the oddest times. Like in math class.”
Aleem covers his mouth.
Stacey
“No. He carries condoms in case it rains they can keep their…manhood…shall we say…dry. Like a little rain coat.”
John
“Shut up”
They enter a clearing. They look up and slightly turn around.
John
“This way.”
John points to where the trail continues.
Jill
“Do we know where we are going?”
Stacey
“Menfolk lead. Womenfolk follow.”
Aleem
“That's the way it is in Pakistan. Women walk behind their men.”
Stacey
“Women will walk behind their men in America too…to kick their men in the ass.”
John
“Nice. Hands across the water…reaching out for understanding.”
Jill
“How much further. I've gotta rest.”
John
“Fine. We'll rest.”
John sits on a rotting log. Stacey rests her head against it…sitting on the ground. Jill dramatically lays down…spread eagle in grass. Aleem is examining trees.
Aleem
“We're going slightly Northwest.”
Stacey
“How do you know?”
Aleem
“Moss grows on the north side of trees.”
Jill
“What... were you a Boy Scout.”
Aleem
“Yes I was.”
Stacey
“You?”
Aleem
“Yes. Aren't I American enough for you.”
Stacey
“Something duty for God and country pledge. You do that?”
Aleem
“God. Allah. Whatever. It's all good.”
Stacey
“That's true. I don't care what anyone believes…as long as they aren't trying to kill me.”
Aleem
“Most people think that way…there's extremists in every religion.”
John
“I'm gonna hurl.”
Aleem starts laughing.
John
“I agree with all of that…and yet too much PC makes me wanna scream and board down the Washington Street Mall.”
Jill
“I know what you mean.”
Stacey
“Hear ya.”
Jill
“I could just lay here forever.”
John
“Well, you'll be laying alone.”
John jumps up. Starts walking down the trail.
Jill
“Hey. Don't leave us here alone.”
Stacey
“Excuse me. We're still here.”
Jill
“Leaderless.”
John
“I'm no leader.”
Jill
“Could have fooled me.
The Leed's Farm hasn't looked like a farm for a very long time. In fact, hundred-plus year old pines grow where fields once grew corn. Hacked out of the wilderness, the deed to the Leed's Farm has King George's seal on it. Long ago incorporated into the Pine Barrens refuge, nothing remains except a few foundation stones. And with the cut-backs in the Park Service, few people to patrol and keep the devil worshippers out.
Jill
“Why are all of the trees dead near the house?”
John
“Not dead by themselves. Wanna bet the devil worshipping freaks killed them.”
Stacey
“They have a right to worship.”
John
“When someone's religion is hurtful to someone else…that religion doesn't deserve to survive. Or that take on the religion.”
Aleem
“My dad would agree with you there.”
John spies a skinny opening to a cave.
John
"Stace. How could not have seen this opening?"
Stacey
"It wasn't there. Maybe it was covered."
John starts to descend into the cave. He turns sideways. We'll have to go in sideways. There's not enough room to walk straight on.
Jill
"Oh great and I'm closet phobic."
Stacey gives Jill a sarcastic look.
Jill
"Closet phobia Closet phobia. I'm afraid of small spaces."
Stacey rolls eyes.
Stacey
"Yeah. I've got that too. That's why my closet looks like a bomb hit it."
John turns sideways, the walls of the cave opening are against his chest and back. Jill turns sideways and follows.
John
"Anyone have a light."
Jill
"K...let's wait 'til we go in the dark to ask that."
Aleem
"Here."
Aleem pulls out a tiny flashlight.
Aleem
"Once a boy scout...always a boy scout."
They descend, deeper and deeper into the darkness. It smells evil...death, moss, mold. Things that crawl in the dark. Stacey screams...
Stacey
"Get it off me. Get it off me. John shines a light on Stacey. He sees her sleeve is touching her hand."
John
"I will not take your blouse off."
They all burst out laughing in relief. Soon the cave opens up and they can walk straight forward.
Jill
"Oh thank God"
John
"There's no God here."
John shines light around, and then one-by- one kicks over little alters to Saddam, Hitler, Osama Bin Laden…
John
“How did I never hear of Bin head before yesterday?”
Aleem
“You were caught up in your own world. America was on his side when he was fighting the Communists. He's been threatening America in the Arab papers for...all summer. Remember what my dad said: he hates democracies. No law above God's law. Only religious people set laws from Allah.”
Stacey
“We all were in our own world.”
Jill
“I miss that world.”
Stacey
“No place is safe.”
John
“This place is.”
Stacey
“The birthplace of the Jersey Devil is safe?”
John
“It's not evil enough.”
Jill
“Alters to Serial Killers, Saddam…sure, there's no evil here.”
John
“That's poser evil. We're looking for deep hatred. Oh my God…"
John has the look that he's had a revelation.
John
"...deep hatred of everything American.”
Stacey
“He's rambling…getting that John's-far-away-eyes look.”
John almost mumbling…deep in thought.
John
“Hatred burns you up in side…”
Jill
“True. How true. And. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? Let's get out of here. Someone could easily block us in.”
John
“My dad. He said hatred makes you into a monster. Well the monster didn't appear 'til right about 9/11.”
Aleem
“Jennifer was killed the day before.”
John
“Maybe evil got to work early. And we didn't notice it. But the killing didn't start until 9/11. Hateful people become monsters. And they're hatefulness will burn them up inside.”
John is deliriously happy. He grabs a confused Jill and kisses her.
Stacey
“I can say fucked up shit too. And the meek shall inherit the earth.”
Stacey jumps up acting sarcastically happy, grabs John and kisses him.
John
“I know how to kill it. I know how to kill the Jersey Devil.”
Stacey
“Here.”
John
“No not here.”
Aleem
“Then where?”
John
“The most evil place on earth. The school cafeteria.”
John quietly goes from student to student in his Homeroom. These are the same people who eat with him in the school cafeteria every day. To each student, he whispers the same thing. John
“Look, you've known me for a long time. At lunch today, put off eating your snacks and don't drink all of your coke or whatever. And if you see something unusual and I tell you to throw your snack or drink at it, do it…that's all I'm saying.”
John has a big sling shot in his back pocket. As he bends over to talk to each student...people snap his butt with it.
John
You with me? Oww. Would you stop!"
They all agreed. And more importantly they all agreed not to tell any teacher about what he said…and who knew…they kept their word.
John begins to think to himself that he might be crazy. But somehow he knew…just like he knew when his mother was going to call…that the Jersey Devil was going to show up in the most evil and vile place he knew…the school cafeteria. 15 of 12, 12 of 12, 5 of 12. The clock ticks towards the inevitable showdown. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing The bell rings, John and everyone files into the cafeteria. John's backpack is filled with snacks…ones every kid in every democracy around the world knows…or has a version of.
John's friend's sit at a table.
Jill
“Where is it?”
John
“Not here yet. Well duh!”
Stacey
“I believe you.”
Jill
“Did I say I didn't?”
Aleem
“Don't worry John. At worst…you'll be seen as a nut job. You get used to that. My people have.”
John
“Speaking of your people. Since when did they wear a beret?”
Aleem
“I could pass for French.”
John
“K…but you might wanna learn French before declaring your citizenship.”
An unearthly thud is heard on the roof. Kids jump from the middle table.
Teacher
“Sit down. Sit down.”
Unknown student voice
“It's here.”
Teacher
“What? Who?”
With that the roof begins to creak under massive weight. The cafeteria lights begin to shake. All of a sudden ceiling tiles begin to fall and crash on the floor…sending up a cloud of chalk dust.
Teacher
“Stay seated students. I'm getting Principal Armstrong.”
Teacher runs out of cafeteria. A moment later the entire ceiling comes down in the center of the cafeteria. The Jersey Devil flies down and scratches its claws on a cafeteria table that is bending under its weight. The Jersey Devil opens its wings of human skin. 20 circles appear. They become globes. Then faces with screaming mouths behind stretched skin…as if behind yellowed plastic wrap. 19 are faces of the hijackers. Then there's Gene and the Sunday "cop". Blood vessels connect to one another. Hate does feed off itself John thinks.
Jersey Devil speaks in a booming voice.
Jersey Devil
"By the power of Allah...we will rip your flesh and make a meal out of Americans."
John to Devil.
"Do you want fries with that?"
John puts a container of McDonald's fries in his sling shot. It hits the Jersey Devil in the mouth. A crack...then a gapping hole appears in his flesh...bright white flame shoots out.
John says to Aleem...
“of course if he had ordered the Happy Meal...it would have come with fries.”
Aleem
"No one speaks for Allah...but Allah."
Aleem chucks a can of Moutain Dew at the Jersey Devil. It hits it's claw...splitting it in two. A bright white flame of anger-hatred appears from the crack.
Aleem to John.
Now if he had said, Allah willing, we will tear your flesh and make a meal out of Americans...that would be more proper.”
John
"You know Aleem. I feel a wave of relief wash over me from that information. Kinda like the Atlantic ocean, washing over me as I go to surf in August."
Aleem
"Really?"
John
"No. Not at all."
John to cafeteria crowd.
John
“Hurl your deserts. CD's anything pop culture. Make it more hateful. Hit it with all of your might.”
John chucks a coke can that hits the devil in the head. A large flame appears out of the place the coke can hit. Another student hits the devil with an Oreo. Same thing, a flame appears where the devil is hit. Soon M&M's, Milky Ways and every other kind of Western snack food is hitting the devil as it flames in hatred. Aleem goes to throw a cheese puff…cheese doodle thing...it floats to the floor.
John
“Aleem. A cheese doodle?”
Aleem
“I was hungry.”
Stacey's hair is covered with bits of food.
Stacey to Jill.
Stacey
"Not that this is all about me...at all. But I really hope this stuff comes out. I was having a good hair day for once."
Jill picks up a package off the floor.
Jill
"Well, let's read what's in here. Ohhhh, red dye number 6788997, blue dye number 8947575758457. Oh look, your hair will be fine. See, it says cream filling contains no cream."
Stacey throws Yohoo at Jersey Devil.
Stacey
"Yohoo."
Jersey Devil turns to her, get's hit in the nose with the Yohoo. Flame splits open its face.
Stacey to Jill.
Stacey
No cream in the cream filling huh? Whew. I'm so glad. There's nothing worst than fat hair."
Pepsi cans Dots and Good and Plenty's are hitting the Jersey Devil in so many places it has become a single flame. Soon, there is a rush of air like 1,000,000 gas burners being turned on. The flame of hatred is so bright…the students look away just in time to miss seeing it explode. Just then the teacher comes back with the Principal. He sees the snack foods all over the floor.
Principal
“Two words: automatic detention for everyone.”
Aleem
“That's four words.”
John
“And we just killed the thing that was terrorizing us.”
Teacher
“I saw nothing terrorizing you.”
John
“If you can't see the hatred…you can't.”
John looks around trying to think of the ending.
John
“If you can't see the hatred…you can't…
Jill
“Show me the love….right…isn't that where you were going.”
Teacher
“All of you…and you John…leave now.”
John, Aleem and Jill walk over the broken ceiling tiles, and past the burned and bent cafeteria table.
John to Jill.
John
“If you can't show me the hatred you can't show me the love. I don't want old lady Basil showing me the love.”
Jill
“What's a matter. Use up that condom you've been carrying?”
Stacey runs up and jumps on John's back, piggyback style. John turns head to talk to Stacey over his shoulder.
John
"Too tired to walk out Stace?"
Stacey
"So what did we learn today kiddies?"
Aleem pulls out a Drake's Ding Dong chocolate covered cake.
Aleem
"That a jihad at hand is no match for a Ding Dong in your pocket."
John
"You had that and didn't hit the Devil with it. Did you not know we were at war? The point was to make him angry... you know hatred burns you up inside."
Aleem adjusting his beret.
Aleem
"I am French. We know when to fight the terrorists and when to eat the cake. I was hungry."
John heads out into the Atlantic on his surf board. The sun beats down and makes his arm hairs glow neon yellow. The ocean rises, a perfect sea foam green underneath a cobalt blue sky.
He rests on his surfboard facing the shore viewing a line of Victorian Bed & Breakfasts as he peacefully goes up and down waves.
Up a wave...see the purple and white awnings that match the cushions on the white wooden rockers...
Down the wave and the world is sea-foam green.
Up a wave...see the yellow and white awnings that match the cushions on the white wooden rockers.
Down the wave and the world is sea-foam green.
Up a wave...see the navy blue and white awnings that match the cushions on the white wooden rockers.
Down the wave and the world is sea-foam green.
How could anyone hate…on a day like today?, he thinks as he catches a wave and rides on top of the world. This is such a feeling of deja vu. When did he think that before? I know he remembers...
...on the cloudless morning of September 11, 2001.