Tales from the Soft Underbelly of Confusion: A Collection of Short Stories

By Peter A. Barbieri

What does it mean to have a personality that is slightly skewed? I am not speaking of one that throughout its "earthly" tenure exhibits qualities of excess, be they psychosomatic, anal, psychotic, delusional, or narcissistic; I am speaking of a personality that on occasion, given the depth of emotional entrapment, takes matters to the edge of predictable behavior and beyond, thus shedding light upon the darkness lurking there.

Although these qualities might, at times, apply to some or all of the main characters here, they primarily serve as the necessary, yet "impure", ingredients for the alchemist's journey; and as such, they point out the twists and turns of hints and allusions, the oddness of the plots, and, of course, the suggestion of larger, more intangible issues.

In Tales from the Soft Underbelly of Confusion, character impurities-and our rigorous attempt to sublimate and repress them-are subtle reminders of the cosmic hoop through which we jump to keep our world ordered and "sane".

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 26, 2007
• ISBN: 9780595912407

Peter A. Barbieri

Peter Barbieri holds a doctorate in Music Composition from the University of Colorado, Boulder. His diverse creative talents have led to careers as composer, jazz pianist, and educator. Dr. Barbieri has long been interested in fiction writing as a natural extension of his interest in music composition.

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TALES FROM THE SOFT UNDERBELLY OF CONFUSION

A collection of short stories

Peter A. Barbieri

iUniverse, Inc.

New York Lincoln Shanghai

TALES FROM THE SOFT UNDERBELLY OF CONFUSION

A collection of short stories

Copyright © 2007 by Peter A. Barbieri

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-0-595-46957-4 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-0-595-91240-7 (ebook)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Acknowledgements

NUTSTAR-VERMILION-NINE

CAPTAIN MARVEL AND THE BICYCLE CHAIN

THE LOOKING GLASS

EMILE LE ROQUE

THE QUESTION

WAITING IN THE ADAM AND EVE ROOM

DESTINED FOR GREATNESS

THE WEDDING SONG

MOONLIGHT ON WATER

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO PLACES LIKE SALLY’S?

THE NUT-FARM

GLIM: THE SLEEPING GIANT

To Frank and Alice: without whose loving exchange, I would be a mere thought.

Acknowledgements 

I wish to thank Hobart Bell and Timothy Lyons, two friends and fellow travelers. Their thoughtfulness, inspiration, and editorial help in bringing this project to fruition sprinkled the path of my creative journey with precious gemstones.

I also wish to extend my gratitude and appreciation to Dr. Greg Dyes and Ms. Terry Fostvedt for their effort and critical observations, even though my acceptance of said observations wasn’t always duly or timely noted.

NUTSTAR-VERMILION-NINE 

No, no, that’s OK. I’m glad you asked. I’d be more than happy to talk about it. We all come from different systems; I’m curious about yours as well.

Nutstar-Vermilion-Nine was the name given to me just after I entered the Underground City; it is considered good fortune to have the designation star in the first part of your name.

I entered the Underground City in this current go-round a little more than fifty years ago and worked my way up to Ground-Level-One. It took me fifty years to work my way up, but that’s the approximate time frame for a Vermilion-Nine. I did it more quickly than most, about a year ahead of schedule. Our time in each go-round is one hundred years, so I now have fifty years to try to get to Sky-Level-One before I’m reconstituted and enter the Underground City again; all of us begin each go-round in the Underground City. It’s highly unlikely that I’ll get to Sky-Level-One in fifty years, but it’s been done before, so you never know. Reaching ever-greater Sky-Levels reduces the amount of time one must spend in the Underground City, consequently making it more possible to reach higher Sky-Levels—there are ten Sky-Levels.

One has to reach Sky-Level-Ten before one’s number can change. Here’s how it works.

As you know, there are three parts to my name. The first part, Nutstar, is the designation for one’s potential. In my case, star is the highest potential rating given to someone entering the Underground City; though the Nut part means that one will be extremely resistant in terms of working towards one’s objective. The second part, Vermilion, has to do with one’s level of maturation. Maturation levels are designated by the colors of the rainbow—dark to light, lowest to highest level—white being the culminating composition of all others. The third name-part is a subgroup of the second, designating with numbers from one to ten—ten being the most superior—one’s rating within that subgroup. After achieving a ten rating, one’s color designation—the second name-part—progresses to the subsequent color. There are one hundred color aspects and ten levels within each aspect.

It is said that it takes innumerable go-rounds to move from one color aspect to the next, but here’s the neat thing: one is not aware when entering the Underground City what name one will receive; the memory of each previous go-round is not recountable. So it’s possible, when one awakens in the Underground City, for one’s color designation to be Diamond—the highest level of color—or even Diamond-Ten—the highest of the highest.

Our names are given to us by a panel composed of four Dia-mond-Tens; that’s the only work they do in the Underground City. By the time one reaches the level of Diamond-Ten, it is said that one can see all three worlds—past, present, and future—as one, so it’s relatively easy for Diamond-Tens to assess where each of us is in terms of our level of potential and maturation.

The name-giving ceremony is quite an auspicious occasion. Everyone is seated in the Great Hall waiting for a number to be called out; we are each given a number as we file in. When a number is called, the one who has that number stands up and comes forward, taking a spot in front of the Diamond-Tens. The panel of Diamond-Tens scrutinizes the standee, takes a few minutes to confer, writes the name designation on a piece of paper, and passes the paper to the scribe. The scribe then copies the name onto an official piece of parchment, sends the parchment to the Diamond-Tens, and they, in turn, sign it. All this time, you’re just standing there waiting, hoping that you’re not going to be humiliated by some gray-tone designation.

I say that the name-giving ceremony is an auspicious occasion, and it is, but the waiting is almost intolerable. In the first place, everyone—well, speaking for myself, I sat there daring to hope for a Diamond-Ten designation. I’m quite sure everyone was wishing the same for his-or her self, even though in the back of my mind I knew that I wouldn’t be too disappointed if I didn’t get it.

Out of twenty-two hundred and fifty-three, I was number twenty-two hundred and fifty-one. As each number was called and each name designated, no one in our group received a Diamond-Ten rating. So, naturally, I thought my chances were pretty good; I was told later that chance has nothing to do with it. I feel myself pretty fortunate, though. I mean there were two designations—Moldstone-Old Maplebark-One and Cakeworm-Burntash-One—that if I had received one of those names, well, I don’t know what I would have done. Talk about deep, dark, and singular. You’ve got to feel sorry for those two souls. Overall, my designation, Vermilion-Nine, is about halfway along; well, maybe a bit more than halfway. So you see, I’m no bottom-grabber.

The funny thing is, though, when I approached the panel of Dia-mond-Tens to receive my parchment, each Ten gave me a stern look—their eyebrows all scrunched together—whereas they gave loving smiles to the recipients of Moldstone-Old Maplebark-One and Cakeworm-Burntash-One. I didn’t know what to make of all that. On the other hand, which burden would you rather carry?

You must be getting dizzy just thinking about the numerous levels that we are required to attain. Well, there’s even more to it.

In the Underground City, three distinct plateaus must be reached before one is permitted to ascend to Ground-Level. Actually, permitted is not a good word choice here; advancement is a process, one advances when the level of maturity is reached—automatically.

Station One is simply an awareness of containment, i.e., one is aware of oneself as a separate entity. This may seem odd to a being such as yourself, but in our world, at the very beginning stage of development, we do not view ourselves as separate from our environment. Once the first station is achieved, we then possess the basic tools that allow us to function within that environment. Station Two is reached when one learns how to function as a separate entity within one’s environment. The learning process for Station Three culminates when the entity re-fuses with the environment; this station is similar to the one existing at the very beginning—prior to Station One—except that at Station Three the entity has gained the knowledge, insight, and awareness that was unbeknownst during that earlier stage of development.

Passing through these UG Stations—Underground Stations, that is—is integral to preparing oneself for life at Ground-Level-One. Without this preparation, our kind would not know how to cope with the various challenges germane to this Ground-Level environment.

As I’ve already stated, we are not conscious of previous go-rounds, so by rights I can only report with authenticity my current experience in the UG City. However, the entire journey, from one’s initial entry into UG City until one reaches the level of Diamond-Ten, is documented in the Handbook of Heightening Perception written long ago by the first Diamond-Ten, Alluce-Diamond-Ten.

Perhaps a word or two about the Underground City: The atmosphere in UG City is not very congenial, at least not during the time it takes to attain Station One and Station Two. There’s a lot of infighting, backstabbing, and self-righteousness—all part of the process, you understand, but still, not a very pleasant experience. You see, the trouble is when you think you have a handle on things and you know something that: 1) only you know; and 2) everybody else needs to know—and needs to be told by you for their own good—well, this kind of attitude is problematic, isn’t it.

Even after one attains Station Three or Ground-Level, or even Sky-Level, there remains a residue of this attitude that is said to linger right up until one attains the level of Diamond-Ten. Of course it diminishes in its ability to control one’s behavior, or, perhaps it is more correct to say that the way in which attitudes control one’s behavior becomes more subtle, more unrecognizable. Actually, that’s another reason why Diamond-Tens keep returning to the various levels; aside from encouraging and teaching us by example, they point out our deficiencies. This sort of benevolence and kindness of heart is especially helpful when one reaches the higher levels where, as I’ve stated, the behavioral irregularities become very subtle indeed.

At first, I used to wonder why Diamond-Tens kept coming back to the lower levels; after all, they’ve completed whatever training is necessary, and it’s obvious, at least to me—and as you know, I’ve been through my fair share of training—that they’ve developed into higher life forms. And then one day, while reading through the Handbook of Heightening Perception—the HHP explains everything—I came across section 342-15a, page 16. I memorized it. It states: Diamond-Tens choose, of their own volition, to return to the physical world in order to assist others on their journey. From that day forward, I wanted to be a D-T.

Page 17 of the HHP goes on to explain that there is a special place—kind of like a cosmic kingdom—where D-Ts go after they’ve reached the Ultimate Top, the UT; down in the UG, we called D-Ts, Pen-UTs. When they reach the UT they’re not referred to as D-Ts any longer, and it takes a disaster of sorts for them to return to the physical levels … I really don’t understand that part …

My goodness, how I’ve been rambling on.

I hope I’ve not bored you silly with all the details of my designation. I’m curious as to the significance of yours. Bob, isn’t it?

CAPTAIN MARVEL AND THE BICYCLE CHAIN  

Larry is my best friend. He is a few months older than me. I was born in May and he was born in December. Right now we’re even; he’s eleven and I’m eleven. Half the time he’s one year older than me, and the other half the time we’re the same age. The best time is when we’re the same age, ’cause then he can’t brag that he’s a year older than me.

I have other friends on the block, but Larry is my best friend. Most of the time we call Larry, Larr. Sometimes we call him Carrot Top. I don’t know why we call him Carrot Top; his hair is black as tar. You’d think that a person’s hair would be red if he was called Carrot Top.

Larry has a sister named Sherrie. She’s fast. I thought I was fast, but yesterday she beat me in a race down the block. It don’t feel too good being beaten by a girl, and she’s two years younger than me.

Me and Larry go everywhere together. We go to Kresgee’s to get stamps. I have a stamp collection. Larry is the blocker and I’m the one who steals the stamps from the rack on the counter. Larry says he should be the blocker ’cause he’s older than me. But I know the real reason. He’s the blocker ’cause he’s fat. Nobody can see around Larry.

On Saturdays, Me and Larry go to the matinee at the Dixwell Theatre on Dixwell Avenue. I love to go to the movies. My dad gives me a quarter: twenty cents for the movies and five cents to buy candy. The show always starts with a few cartoons, then a serial like Hopalong Cassidy or the Lone Ranger, and then comes the two movies.

The Dixwell Theater is one block away from the line that divides Hamden from New Haven. We live in the Hamden part. Sometimes I dream about Me and Larr going and standing on the line that separates Hamden from New Haven: Larr standing on the New Haven side and me standing on the Hamden side. It’s fun.

Every once in a while, Mr. Cohen, he’s the owner of the Dixwell Theater, has a pie-eating contest up on stage before the movie starts. Sometimes I get chosen to be in the contest. It’s really Larry that should be chosen, ’cause Larry can eat more pie than anybody in the world. Maybe that’s why Mr. Cohen never chooses Larry.

Anyways, last Saturday Mr. Cohen asked me if I wanted to stay after the movies and help