Friday, October 31, 2014

Halloween (a short-short)

The house had seemed so stunningly sophisticated when you first arrived, with its vast spaces, tall white walls and acres of black carpeting. But now, like everything else about this babysitting experience, the house is just so uncomfortably unfamiliar. And noisy! At first you blamed the scratching sounds on trees—it had to be branches scraping against the windows—but later you remember no trees surround this house on top of a bare hill.

And now the hum. A threatening hum, as if too much electricity coursed through the house. It’s beginning to drive you nuts. You need a TV on—any channel—or a stereo, but you don’t see either downstairs. They don’t watch TV, you think, but they must like to talk on the phone. In the living room sit four old-fashioned looking phones, red ones, with the dial on the base.

Thinking about a snack, you head for the kitchen. The refrigerator is stainless steel, huge, expensive, and empty. One small glass jar sits on a shelf, its contents black and forbidding. The rest of the fridge is bare. What do these people eat? you wonder. And how do they afford all this? What do they do?

You realize how little you know about the couple who hired you. When they called, you were grateful for something to do. Your parents were out at a Halloween party. They didn’t want you trick-or-treating because you were getting over a cold. Tonight’s temperature had dropped down to 22 degrees. The woman on the phone said her name was Eva somebody—Brown, maybe?—and her neighbor had given her your name. She didn’t say which neighbor. She didn’t mind that you had a cold.

An unwelcome thought takes root and grows. You didn’t pay attention to the route the couple took to get here, and you don’t even know what they look like. They picked you up wearing Halloween costumes. You thought it was odd they were both dressed as Death. You asked how they could see through those black hoods to drive, but they just chuckled. The man said his name was Dolph.

I can’t stand this place, you think. It’s so weird! You find yourself pacing the downstairs and searching the blank darkness outside the windows for a light, any kind of light. You left a note for your parents, letting them know you were babysitting, but you gave no names, no address. You can’t remember where your parents said they’d be. Your friends are probably all out trick-or-treating.

The baby. You decide to go check on the baby. You can’t remember if they told you if it’s a boy or a girl. Why is it getting hard to remember things? The hum is louder upstairs. Which room is the baby in? The first two doors open to empty darkness. You go on, clinging to the anticipation of baby warmth, little body curled in sleep, blanket-sleepered bottom in the air.

Finally, a room with a night light. A crib stands in the center, a little mound under the blanket. But the room is frigid, the crib rail like ice under your fingers. The hum is so loud you can feel it in your chest. You turn down the blanket to find a pillow underneath. And beneath the pillow . . . there is no baby. There is no body. Just bones.

You tear down the stairs, beginning to sob. A phone! You grab one of those red phones. You’ll call 911 and then run out the door as fast as you can. You put the receiver to your ear, but instead of a dial tone, a voice speaks, deeply pleased and chilling: “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Sunday, October 12, 2014

The Other Important Topic: Beauty

Ha! "Beauty" is something I find more amusing than interesting most of the time. An exception was my teens, of course, when I put some effort into mastering the art of wearing three shades of blue eyeshadow. And my twenties, when we lived in Manhattan, and I loved thinking of myself as sexy and sophisticated. But in my thirties and forties, raising children in the country, I had no time for makeup, nor interest in it, and if I did give it half-hearted try, it just looked silly.

This attitude changed in my fifties, but not dramatically. However, by the time my sixties arrived I realized makeup was my friend. And when I had cataract surgery and no longer hid behind glasses, I needed to make the best use of it. (That is, once I got over the post-cataract shock of seeing my aging face in all its HD detail.)

Makeup, especially eye makeup, makes such a difference in how I look that I've had to keep a rein on it, always aware that I don't want to channel my inner clown. (I don't really have an inner clown. I don't like clowns. But you know what I mean.)

This morning I tried Maybelline's new eyebrow mascara (Eyebrow Drama). I like it! My eyebrows have turned into an iffy mix of blonde and grey (like my hair), growing in various directions (not like my hair). I bought the Blonde shade of this product. I was concerned that it might be too light, but it's a good shade for me. Looks very natural, and somewhat tames the direction of the hairs. I filled in here and there with pencil.

I recently tried Bare Escentuals mineral powder, which is not new, but new to me. They offer a matte product, but I bought the original (on eBay, best price) along with a Kabuki brush by e.l.f. A zillion YouTube videos demonstrate how to apply it. Although I've always gone for a matte look (moisturizer plus powder, no foundation), what I like best is that it's not matte. The finish has a subtle glow to it. Doesn't look old. At least it doesn't in my bathroom mirror, which has the best light ever: not even one wrinkle can be detected in this light!

I rarely turn on the TV in the morning anymore, but one day I happened to catch the Today Show when they were talking about John Frieda Luxurious Volume Mousse. They said staff members raved about it. So I bought it on Amazon—cheaper than driving to Walmart. It really is a nice product. It reminds me of stuff they use in salons; never stiff or sticky. The can says "Transforms Fine Hair." My fine hair, once so thick, has become fine and thin. I wish the transformation included hair growth, but one can't have everything.

Oh, and one more: NYX Nude Matte eye shadow in Bare My Soul. It's taupe. Looks blah, a dull brown, in the case. But I love it for daytime because it looks so natural, like an actual shadow. Lavender can have the same effect.

What is it about October? Last October I posted about a bunch of beauty products I tried after reading a magazine article. And now here I am back again to talk about other products I was inspired to try. I hope I'm not getting desperate.