Once Upon a Time

‘Once upon a time there...’

‘No, no, and no. Stop right there.’

‘No? What do you mean “no”?’

‘Don’t start your story with “once upon a time”.’

‘Why not? It is quite an effective way to start.’

‘Is it though? It’s so cliché.’

‘Clichés exist for some reason; don’t you agree? They provide the reader with a well-established setting for the story they are about to get into.’

‘No. A cliché is an over repeated common sense. A house that offers, perhaps, too much safety.’

‘And safety is not good somehow? I fail to see the problem here.’

‘Readers don’t want safety, and if they think they do, they are wrong. They don’t know what they want, and it’s your job to give them surprises instead of safety.’

‘This is not a horror story. They don’t need to be on the edge of their seat every time they read a paragraph.’

‘And they shouldn’t. But how many times have you read the same old “once upon a time”?’

‘Ok. You’ve made your point….’ ‘Legs crossed the flowery green yard, striding as if in a hurry. A knock on the door. A middle-aged man opened it; on his face, he wore a look of having been interrupted in the middle of a most important thing.’

‘Better. Mysterious up to now.’

‘Don’t interrupt, will you?’

‘Ok, ok.’

‘What do you want? Said the man inside the house.’

‘Asked…’

‘What?’

” What do you want?” is a question, so the best word to use there is asked. “What do you want? Asked the man inside the house.’

‘Seriously? Can I just?’

‘Well, you asked my opinion…’

‘I did, indeed. I think you’ve mistaken what an opinion is.’

‘Misunderstood.’

‘What the hell?’

‘Sorry. Last time.’

‘What do you want? Asked the man inside the house. I came for the package. The other answered. Wait here. He closed the door behind him and disappeared for several minutes. The man by the door could hear noises and voices inside, an old woman yelling at someone and a dog barking in the backyard. The door opened again as the middle-aged man appeared with a box, small enough to be carried in a single hand. Do you have them? He inquired while still clutching the box to himself. Yes, I do. The stranger searched his pockets and found an envelope. He stretched his arm out and handed over the envelope. He opened it and checked its contents. Good, he said, then delivered the box to the other.’

‘How did you go from “once up a time” to that?’

‘That?’

‘Yes, don’t get me wrong. It’s good so far. I want to know what this box is and stuff. Who the guys are, but if I hadn’t interrupted you in the beginning, how would you have connected it to what’s happening now?’

‘I’d adapt, of course.’

‘Hum.’

‘I don’t remember you being so judgmental. It’s getting annoying already.’

‘Yes, so I’ve been told. Please, continue.’

‘The stranger carried the box to his car. Walked around it and opened the passenger door, carefully placed the package on the soft cushion of the seat. He couldn’t risk losing its contents nor waste all the time and trouble he had been through to get it. He must act carefully. He rounded the car and got inside. No seat belt and the car started moving. He must have driven for about ten minutes without having to stop, but an inevitable red light made him nervous. He wanted to get home as fast as possible. They say light is the fastest thing in the universe, I wonder if this light here knows that. He laughed a bit at the seeming wit of his own pun. Another light called his attention to the rearview mirror. It approached and then rolled into the lane alongside him. Thank God. The police officer looked across at him and nodded. He nodded back and tried to keep his mind calm. The cars started moving, and he hesitated to make sure the police car moved further ahead. Slowly, slowly. Too slow. Now suspiciously slow, he thought. He pumped the gas harder as he heard an impatient horn on his back. The whole way home he had to deal with the combination of joy at having his precious package and the fear of being caught with it. He was now at yet another light, when it was green, he turned left and then right. Drove past some trees, a park, a playground, until he was surrounded by houses. The Suburbs. All the houses were pretty much the same, only those with good memory and attention would pull into the right driveway. He pressed a button and the gate started rising, he slowly pulled inside, pressed the button again and everything went dark. He searched for the switch and - light again, just as fast as he liked it to be. Now home, he fell into a bit of recklessness, he reached for the box from the driver’s seat, grabbed it with two hands, and with the side of his body pushed the door closed. Three steps and he was in a corridor. He turned right and stopped at a large living room, with all the furniture and pieces of decoration one would expect from a middle-class family. Mom? He yelled. No answer. He should have noticed the absence of her car on the driveway or in the garage. No matter. He turned left and reached the staircase that led up to his room. Foot after foot he climbed it, scared he would fall and then everything was lost.’

‘Everything would be lost. Hey, don’t give me that look. If you don’t want people to correct your words, keep them in your head.’

‘…and then everything would be lost. His room, finally. The door always open, he crossed the threshold, and with the sole of his shoe, he shut it behind him. He put the package on his bed and looked at it intensely; hypnotized. The box was just brown, carton and tape, but what was inside was… well. I better lock this door. He went to the desk and grabbed a little knife and started cutting through the tape wrapped around the box. In his mind, the fear of having been scammed was growing stronger. I should have checked the box first. He thought. But there was no need, as he finished with the tape and pulled open the two tabs of carton that held the box closed, his eyes glowed as he looked at its contents, just like when he was a boy at Christmas and had gotten the toy he wanted. Inside the box…’

‘No!’

‘What the hell? Again?’ Now what?’

‘Don’t tell me what’s inside the box.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because not. Not just yet. Maybe never.’

‘But you said yourself you wanted to know what’s inside the box.’

‘Yes, I did, and I still do.’

‘So?’

‘So… once you tell me what’s inside what will you do? What will I do? I want to know but do I deserve to know? Do I have to know?’

‘Hell. What’s the box for if not to carry something inside?’

‘Exactly! It carries something inside and it’s all a reader needs to know. Don’t just give away your prize yet.’

‘Ok, I think I understand what you mean.’

‘Good. Continue, it’s good so far.’

‘His eyes glowed as he looked at its contents, just like when he was a boy at Christmas and had gotten the toy he wanted. He was about to grab the contents in both hands when he heard the worst possible sound he could have heard at that moment. He yelled from upstairs as if whoever was at the door could hear him. Closed the box and placed it inside a drawer in his dresser. C’mon, tell what now?’

‘Hum… it’s just that I think “tucked it inside” sounds better. But it’s your story…’

‘Closed the box and tucked it inside a drawer in his dresser He ran down the steps and opened the door. As he looked down to his interrupter, he remembered the face of the man who handed him the box. Interruptions must come at the worst times possible. What do you want? He asked the two young men dressed in suits without jackets…’

‘Ehh, technically you can’t say they are in suits if they are jacketless. That’s just not accurate…’

‘Well, what would you call a suit without the jacket?’

‘I don’t know…formal attire without the jacket?

‘But that doesn’t really flow does it…?’

‘Well, it’s not as awkward as saying they are wearing a suit that isn’t a suit is it…?’

‘Fine, two young men in formal attire but lacking suit jackets…are you happy now?’

‘Ok better, go on.’

‘Jesus Christ. What do you want? He asked the two young men in formal attire but lacking suit jackets. In their ties, they each had a small golden cross. He sighed. Sorry to bother you, sir, we are in the neighborhood spreading the word of our true lord and savior, Jesus Christ. Do you mind sparing some minutes of your time? The boy who spoke seemed like a politer version of his own mother. Thinking of her, I have enough of Jesus at home. I mind very much. He retorted harshly and closed the door. Just as he turned to go back upstairs, he heard the doorbell again. I thought I made it clear! He yelled opening the door. Sir, Jesus…will you stop that?’

‘Stop what? I said nothing.’

‘Stop fidgeting. What’s wrong with you?

‘Sorry it’s just this is taking a bit longer than I expected it to that’s all…I thought I’d be home by now…’

‘Oh so you have something better to do is that it? I’m interrupting your schedule?’

‘No man sorry, sorry I can stay a bit longer I don’t have to go just yet.’

‘No, I think we’re done here you’ve killed the mood.’

‘I said I’ll stay, I’m sure it won’t take much longer I mean you’re doing ok.’

‘Ok? That’s all you have to say?’

‘Well, what do you want me to say? Let’s just continue man.’

‘First, I want you to apologize for being such a terrible listener’

‘Wait what? I tried to help you.’

‘Who said I needed your help?’

‘You… and your text. You know what? Now I don’t want to listen to it anymore either.’

‘Good, don’t. Let me just show you the door.’

‘Maybe if you were a better writer, I wouldn’t be such a bad listener.’

‘Are you freaking kidding me? I’ll open your ears.’

‘What? Wait! Where did the scissors come from? Stop that! You don’t want to do that. Stop! I thought we were friends.’

‘Friends? Friends don’t shit on each other’s work. YOU write a book then come back here and see how YOU like it.’

‘You cut me! You cut me, you bastard! Hell, call an ambulance. I am bleeding like hell.’

‘I’ll call an ambulance when I finish my reading and you finish your listening.’

‘Man, seriously. I don’t feel good. Everything is spinning.’

‘Careful. Show me, don’t tell me. Yes, better. Shush. Stay calm. Now, on the floor, you will listen to me and be quiet.’

‘Please…’

‘Once upon a time…’

‘Oh fu…’