Poorly-Laid Plans (RB Vs. The Shadow God, Chapter 9) · 3:12pm Jul 4th, 2022
Previously, on The Shadow God:
Mark killed a man!
And now:
Okay. So. The big news I mentioned yesterday. You ready for it? Because I was ecstatic to find this.
Here we go.
I previously linked the Google Books preview of Aaron Rayburn's second novel, Spiritual Sorrow. Well, I was looking through that again, and I noticed that at the end of the preview is an author's note. So I took a peek. And, believe me, you are not ready for this:
But that's not all. You see that at the bottom? That's a URL, baby.
So now I present to you, the esteemed reader, Aaron Rayburn's motherfucking website, circa April 2006, with some help from the WayBack Machine:
There's actually several editions of this website; you can check those out too by going through the timeline. Here's an FAQ. If you find anything else interesting, let me know!
Anyway, on with the show.
We begin this chapter with Mark returning home, feeling sick about what he just did.
After Ridley forcibly made him kill the old man, he couldn’t even muster up enough energy to indulge himself into having sex with the women Ridley offered to him as a reward for a job well done. He felt too nauseated and depressed to do anything but collapse onto his bed and fall asleep.
For once, Mark, you had your priorities straight.
Thing is, Mark isn't feeling guilty. Oh, no, he's already assigned all the blame onto Ridley. As far as Mark is concerned, his conscience is clear. He's more worried about detective Underwood showing up and arresting him for murder.
Mark goes to his fridge and pulls out a gallon of milk. He drinks it straight from the jug; I guess he is cut out to be a satanist, after all.
When he closes the fridge door, his sister is standing there, and he nearly jumps out of his skin.
“That’s a good way to get punched,” he said.
“You wouldn’t punch me,” Margie said cheerfully.
Mark gazed at her perniciously. “Don’t tempt me,” he said. “Get out of my face.”
Margie sniffed at him, her face stretching into a frown. “Eeeew! What’s that horrible smell?”
Mark regarded her fretfully, though he knew it was him that smelled like death warmed over not to mention he probably looked the part as well. “I said get out of my face!”
Let's talk about adverbs for a minute.
An adverb is a word that describes a verb or an adjective. They usually end in "-ly", which makes them easy to spot. In the sentence "He swam quickly away from the monster," "quickly" is an adverb. Adverbs are a very useful way to clarify something about the way an action is performed.
The issue with adverbs is that they are often overused, and often are used as a crutch. An adverb is a way of telling the reader something, when, as I said in an earlier chapter, it is usually better to show it. Almost any time an author uses an adverb, they could replace it with something more compelling. "He swam quickly away from the monster" could be replaced with something along the lines of "He put everything he had into swimming for his life as the shadow of the monster behind him grew ever closer." It's for that reason that any good editor will crack down on your adverb usage.
Now, as with any rule of writing, there are times when you should break it. Adverbs have the advantage of telling us something in a single word, making them useful when brevity or clarity is called for. But they are something you should be consciously aware of when you use them.
Mr. Rayburn quite likes his adverbs, as we can see in the excerpt above:
“You wouldn’t punch me,” Margie said cheerfully.
Mark gazed at her perniciously.
Mark regarded her fretfully,
In each of these cases, eliminating the adverb would lead to better prose. It's not the biggest issue, but it is a common one.
Anyway. Enough of that. Let's get back to the chapter, shall we?
“Not until you tell me what this is,” said Margie, dangling a piece of metal before Mark’s drooping eyes.
He focused his bland attention on the wavering object. There were glints of red swimming across his field of vision as the metal piece swung back and forth in front of him. Then suddenly, he realized—it was the necklace he found around his neck the morning after. The one Ridley had given him.
She also found something else:
“Sure there is,” said Margie, her eyes glittering. “Mom and Dad would absolutely love the notion that you have joined a …” she paused, extracted a small card from her pocket and read the inscription. “ … a … Satanist’s group.” She looked up, smiling.
And so, Mark finds himself beholden to the demands of his sister, who is absolutely not in any way acting like she's thirteen.
“All right,” said Mark. “What do you want?”
Margie’s eyes sparkled gleefully. “I want Craig,” she said sharply.
Oh joy.
“Because I see the way he looks at me,” said Margie, her hopes rising again.
“Like a fucking retard?” Mark asked, humor coloring his cheeks.
“Like he wants to fuck,” she said simply.
Mark pointed at her. “Watch your mouth, young lady!”
“You’re not my dad!” said Margie.
Reminder that (because I have to keep reminding myself this) this is a conversation between an eighteen-year-old and a twenty-year-old.
Mark looked at Margie with modest concern. He really didn’t want Craig anywhere near his sister, but on the other hand, he couldn’t control anything Margie and Craig did.
Oh, so now you don't want Craig to have sex with your sister. I sure am glad these characters are written so consistently, aren't you?
Mark says he'll do what he can to get Craig into Margie's bedroom. Then he falls asleep. Cut to Craig, who is also asleep and dreaming:
He found himself in some sort of dark cave, though he wasn’t far into it. He didn’t know how he had gotten there, but he began walking toward the light, toward the cave’s entrance, which was only a short distance away.
Craig exits the cave and discovers himself to be in the middle of a field of rolling grain. It's the same scene as his last dream.
Craig spots someone approaching; he initially worries it might be someone from the Dark World, sent to kill him. He decides it would be a good idea to go down and meet the figure, reasoning that he's in no danger because he knows he's dreaming. Suddenly, he hears thunder in the distance.
The following paragraph is unedited:
Suddenly there was maniacal laughter filling the low-pressure air along with the low, steady rumbling. His head pounded, his consciousness faltered and his vision swam. What was happening? Craig was slumped down in the uncomfortable hospital chair next to Todd’s bed when the light rapping on the door become louder and more pronounced.
Had to do a double-take on that one. We just transition from the dream to reality within a single paragraph. One sentence in the dream world, one sentence in reality. Not very elegant.
Craig awakens. He looks to the door; it's Detective Underwood and his sidekick. They take an interest in Todd.
“Mind if I ask you a few questions?” said Underwood.
“He’s in no condition to answer any questions,” Craig blurted, unable to believe they were actually going to try to scrutinize Todd, who was barely able to keep his eyes open. “You can come back tomorrow if you like.”
Underwood cast Craig a harsh, unyielding glare. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said. “We need Todd’s statement now … before he forgets it. Tomorrow may be too late.”
Craig points out how stupid that is, saving me the trouble. Underwood continues to ask Todd questions.
“What’s it?” Underwood asked, biting his pinky nail.
Todd stole a glance at Craig, who nodded him along.
“A werewolf,” said Todd meekly.
Underwood rolled his eyes, stood up suddenly, casting the chair onto two legs, and began pacing the floor. He ran a hand through his ruffled hair. “I can’t believe they got you, too!”
Craig and Todd watched him formidably.
“Of all people,” said Underwood, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “I thought I could depend on you to be the one to be honest with me.” He looked at both of the boys. “What’s wrong with you people? Why must you put blame on something dreadful that has happened to you on some imaginary creature? I just don’t understand it!”
Suddenly, he threw up his hands and said, “Fuck it.” He grabbed his recorder and went to the door. “Come on, Roger, we’re outta here.” He looked at Craig and Todd.
“If these boys want to take the law into their own hands, then that’s their business, but beware,” he said, pausing. “I’ll be watching all three of you. So you’d better not fuck up.” He smiled malevolently. “But when you do, I’ll have your asses in prison for obstruction of justice faster than you can say, ‘Oops, I fucked up!’”
Judging by Underwood's little temper tantrum here, it looks like Mark and his sister aren't the only ones who aren't acting their age in this story.
The detectives leave. Craig wonders what their deal is, and speculates that they might be working for either the Shadow God or Spiers.
“What’re we going to do now?” Todd asked, rigorously trying to settle himself down after Underwood’s verbal assault.
Craig had a plan. A new one. He wasn’t going to wait for the blue light anymore. That was useless and damn near stupid. (Though his new plan wasn’t much better, but at least it was new.) “I think me and Mark are going to try something new and different,” he said.
So you admit that your plan was dumb and stupid, then. What is this new plan, you may be wondering, if the apathy hasn't gotten to you yet. Well...
“We’re going to fight the werewolf,” said Craig, matter-of-factly.
“Just like that?” asked Todd. “With no plan other than what you just told me?”
Craig shook his head. “We’re going into the church and hunting him down. A pretty cut and dry operation.”
“He’ll kill you,” said Todd colorlessly.
Craig shrugged, then shook his head. “I don’t think he will. Besides, Mark has two guns that we’ll bring along. Spiers won’t be able to stand up to bullets,” he said, thinking back a couple of hours ago when Mark shot it. He knew, just as Mark and Todd did, that the bullets only slowed it down, but ultimately, had no effect on it whatsoever.
Yes. Brilliant plan. I am in favour of this. After all, the sooner these characters die, the sooner the book ends.
Craig speculates that maybe they can kill Spiers if he's in human form. Todd thinks he's an idiot, and, well, I guess even Todd can be right about some things.
“What about just waiting for the blue light?” Todd interjected. “What happened to that?”
“We can’t wait on it anymore,” said Craig. “My dad said the longer we wait, the stronger it’ll become.”
Oh, so now you listen to your dad.
Craig and Todd argue over how stupid Craig's plan is for a while. They hug, and then Craig leaves. Todd is already mourning his dead friends.
Craig goes to Mark's house, but no one appears to be home. So he goes back to his own house and calls Mark on the phone; no answer. His mom convinces him to go to bed.
Back at the hospital, the blue light appears before Todd. He ignores it and goes back to sleep.
Kristy opened her eyes to the bright blue light shining in from her bedroom window. Her mind was still in dreamland as she swung her legs over the side of her bed and walked toward the light.
She smiled at the blue brilliance, thinking how pretty it was. She lifted her window and reached out for it.
Oh boy.
Craig wakes up to discover that he slept until ten o'clock in the evening of the next day. He runs back to Mark's house and slams on the door. Margie answers it.
“Hi, Margie,” said Craig. “Where’s Mark?”
Margie had her pinky finger in her mouth, gently sucking it while looking into Craig’s eyes. She pulled it out with a slurping sound. “He’s sleeping,” she said. “Just like you’re supposed to be doing.”
“Well, he’s got to get up,” said Craig urgently. “We got somewhere to go.”
“A party?” Margie asked excitedly.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Can I come?”
“I don’t think so,” said Craig, pushing himself in and trying to avoid Margie’s breasts as much as possible.
Y'know. As you do.
Craig tells her that it's "a special meeting". Margie assumes he means a meeting of The Satanist's Group Association, and tells him that she knows what's going on, but doesn't tell him anything more than that.
Craig hit his head with the palm of his hand as if trying to readjust his thoughts. “I don’t have time to play your stupid games, Margie,” he said, walking steadily down the hall toward Mark’s room.
“Fine,” she said, turning her back on him and smirking. “I’ll soon show you a game that you’ll not mind playing,” she whispered silently to herself.
Ew.
Craig wakes Mark up and fills him in on what could loosely be construed as "the plan". Mark's pretty fucked in the head at the moment, having trouble focusing, stringing sentences together, etc. He starts crying. Craig says he'll go on his own to the church, which sobers Mark up a little bit.
Mark, profusely, began rubbing the wetness from his eyes. “I’m okay,” he said. “See?” He stood up and paced around the room. “I just had to wake up first. That’s all.”
Craig watched him suspiciously for a moment. There was definitely something wrong with him. He wished wholeheartedly that he knew what it was. He understood Mark had been under a lot of strain lately—they all had—but Mark had to let it go and concentrate on the problem at hand. And that was to get inside the church and hunt Father Spiers, and then kill him. Before he metamorphosed.
Have you considered, Craig, in all your plan-making wisdom, just asking him what's going on? Instead of completely neglecting someone who is supposed to be one of your best friends? Have you given one iota of thought for him in all of this?
None of these people act like they're friends, no matter how many times they say they're friends 'till the end. Which they do say. A lot.
Mark gets out his guns. He takes the magnum and gives Craig the Special. Turns out, he's only got six shots for each. Oops.
“Why didn’t you get more bullets?” Craig whispered, incredulous.
“I just didn’t, okay? I didn’t think I’d be going to that fucking church tonight to fucking hunt down a fucking werewolf."
And I didn't know I was going to do another fucking review of another fucking book this fucking soon after my last fucking book fucking review.
Fucking.
Craig was halfway to the door when Margie appeared at the top of the stairs with nothing on but a pink bra and pink, Hello Kitty panties. Craig turned, facing her, taking in the wonderful sight.
Jesus tapdancing Christ, Craig. It's made worse by the fact that earlier, when Mark was trying to convince him to fuck her, Craig said that he saw Margie as being like a little sister to him. Yeah. Nothing's off limits, apparently.
Craig and Mark manage to escape Margie, and the chapter ends.
See you tomorrow. Oh, and happy Fourth of July to the American readers. I hope you're feeling more patriotic than I am.
Not in the least! :)
Kristy gets to be a POV character, huh? How many scenes before she takes a good long look at herself in a mirror? Definitely feeling like I understand where the characters' emotional stunting is coming from now...