if you haven\u2019t already, if for no other reason than to see what he thought. \ud83d\ude09<\/span><\/p>\nThis month is the 11th installment of <\/span>Exhumed<\/span><\/i> and, as promised last month, I\u2019ll be reviewing two Bentley Little stories. <\/span><\/p>\nLet\u2019s get to it\u2026<\/span><\/p>\nTHE OLD: \u201cThe Sanctuary\u201d<\/b><\/span><\/h5>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/CD2.jpg?resize=266%2C350&ssl=1\")
AUTHOR:<\/b> Bentley Little<\/span><\/p>\nAPPEARANCE:<\/b> Cemetery Dance #2: June, 1989<\/span><\/i>. (Story #3 of 11). <\/span><\/p>\nPLOT (with spoilers!):<\/b><\/p>\n
When Cal came home from school, he noticed the windows were drawn. This worried him because the last time that\u2019d happened in the daytime was the day \u201cFather had had to pay.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\nInside, he finds his mother curled up on the couch. She\u2019d been crying. When he asks, she sobs that she hadn\u2019t meant to do it, that she couldn\u2019t help herself, that The Rage had come over her again, that she had had to kill the neighbor man who had been innocently walking his dog. <\/span><\/p>\nCal has by then noticed that there were no other sounds in the house. This worries him, so he asks where his sister, Chrissie, is. His mother explains with blank simplicity that to pay for her mother\u2019s sins, Chrissie had had to die. <\/span><\/p>\nCal runs to the back of the house and into The Sanctuary. There, next to Cal\u2019s father\u2019s cross is Chrissie\u2019s body. She is naked and spreadeagled. Crucified. Her head is hanging limply down and pewter bowls still catch her dripping blood. In the corner are the charred remains of the neighbor man.<\/span><\/p>\n\u201cShe will be resurrected…\u201d Cal\u2019s mother says from behind him, \u201c…and will sit at the throne of God and we will pray to her and worship her as we do your Father.\u201d She then takes to her knees beside Cal and instructs him to pray. <\/span><\/p>\nCal obeys, joining in his mother\u2019s prayers to \u201cDear Jim\u2026 Hallowed be your name\u2026\u201d despite knowing the words are wrong. He knows not to correct her, for the punishment would be many more hours of forced prayer. He already knows that later he and his mother will drink Chrissie\u2019s blood for communion. He doesn\u2019t want to make matters even worse. <\/span><\/p>\nLater that night, Cal pacifies himself by watching television and burying his head into the fur of Bocephus, the family dog, and repeatedly speaking Chrissie\u2019s name. Hours later he is still thinking about his mother, about The Rage, about Chrissie, and about what he should do. Hearing his mother\u2019s snores through the walls, he also soon hears Chrissie\u2019s voice calling his name. <\/span><\/p>\nHe tries to ignore the voice, but it persists. He knows Chrissie had always been afraid of The Sanctuary. He knows she\u2019s always been afraid of Father. He finally gives in and goes to visit her body. It is then he hears her tell him to kill their mother. <\/span><\/p>\nCal goes to school the next day, trying to pretend everything is normal, but he finds it impossible to concentrate. Part of him knows he should tell someone—a teacher, a friend, the police—but is too frightened to do so. He fears his mother, and he fears having her taken away. He is also afraid of what his father—with the power of God on his side—might do. He never once considers the option proposed to him by his dead sister.<\/span><\/p>\nOn his way home, Cal knows what to expect. His mother will be in The Sanctuary, praying again—it\u2019s what she did when The Rage came over her last time and his father had had to pay—and he doesn\u2019t want to join her there. But when he gets home, everything appears perfectly normal. The street is filled with the noise of out-of-school kids, Mr. Johnson is mowing his lawn, and his mother is outside watering flowers. <\/span><\/p>\nBut as he gets closer, Cal sees his mother glance over at him and smile before a change comes over her face. He recognizes it as The Rage, and even as she runs towards one of the neighborhood children, he runs after her. She gets to the other boy all too quickly, though, and all Cal can do is shout, \u201cMother!\u201d to which his mother slaps him hard across the face and leads the neighbor boy into her garage. <\/span><\/p>\nThe murder of the neighbor boy is all too quick and easy. Cal\u2019s mother first pushes him to the cement floor, and Cal screams \u201cNO!\u201d but he is again too slow. She then slams a shovel into the boy\u2019s back, sending blood streaming from the long slice it creates. Cal watches him flop around on the cement floor like a fish for only a moment before staggering out of the garage and listening to the rest of the mutilation from afar. <\/span><\/p>\nWhen his mother runs out, covered in blood, he is unsure where she is going. He sees her run to the backyard. He hears her cutting wood and driving nails. It isn\u2019t until he hears the back door slam shut that he understand. She has constructed a cross, and now her newest sin must be paid. <\/span><\/p>\nCal jumps to his feet, determined not to let her get him. He is prepared to run. He is prepared to fight. <\/span><\/p>\nBocephus barks once, loudly, then falls silent. Cal yells his name and runs into the house and down the hall. When he gets to The Sanctuary, the dog is already strung up on the cross, his legs splayed in crucifixion, long nails protruding from his paws. <\/span><\/p>\nCal\u2019s mother drops her hammer, kneels, and begins another broken prayer. It is now that Cal finally understands how far gone his mother is. It is now that Cal finally allows himself the courage to tell the police. <\/span><\/p>\nAs his mother retrieves and sets fire to the neighbor boy\u2019s body, Cal considers that maybe he should kill her instead. But it is Chrissie\u2019s voice that stops him. \u201cNo,\u201d she says, and at first Cal doesn\u2019t know what that means. <\/span><\/p>\nHe runs outside, still unsure what to do, when he sees little Todd MacVicar riding by on his Big Wheel. Todd sees the consuming look on Cal\u2019s face and asks \u201cWhat\u2019s the matter with you?\u201d and it is then that Cal feels The Rage come over him. <\/span><\/p>\nHe feels an unbridled hatred for the boy. He imagines Todd\u2019s bloodied head smashed on the sidewalk. He quickly invites Todd into his garage to show him something. <\/span><\/p>\nLater, Cal is standing in the middle of The Sanctuary. He is crying, filled with a sadness and remorse he didn\u2019t think possible. Todd\u2019s body is behind him, already burned. The lingering smoke smells both clean and pure to Cal. When he looks down at his mother, she tells him, \u201cYou have no choice,\u201d and he knows she is right. <\/span><\/p>\nHe presses the point of the first nail into her palm and draws back the hammer. He hears the voices in his head. <\/span><\/p>\n\u201cYou have no choice.\u201d His father. <\/span><\/p>\n\u201cYou must.\u201d Chrissie. <\/span><\/p>\nCal swings the hammer and flinches at his mother\u2019s screams. He is thinking this is crazy, that this isn\u2019t what he\u2019s supposed to be doing. But when he looks up, Cal sees approval both in Chrissie\u2019s running, clouded eyes and his father\u2019s dry empty sockets. <\/span><\/p>\nHe swings the hammer again. And again. <\/span><\/p>\nBy the time he is finished and his mother\u2019s cross is propped up next to that of Bocephus, he is already feeling better. He is purified. Cleansed. Free from all guilt. <\/span><\/p>\nSo Cal sinks to his knees and begins to pray, \u201cOur Mother, who art in heaven\u2026\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nMY GRADE: A-<\/b><\/p>\n
MY REVIEW:<\/b><\/p>\n
This story has a problem which I\u2019ve seen many time, and in this instance it\u2019s repeated multiple times. That problem is a blatant disregard toward believability. Simply put, there are several moments in this story which are each jarring and collectively so unbelievable that we cannot help but be reminded that we are reading a fictional tale in a made-up world. <\/span><\/p>\nHere\u2019s a list, with commentary as to their severity, to prove my point: <\/span><\/p>\n\n- Cal comes home from school to find his mother has (among other things) crucified his sister, Chrissie. At most it\u2019s been nine or ten hours since he\u2019s been home, and yet Chrissie is already dead. Death by crucifixion, however, is a very slow, grueling process taking several days to actually kill someone. <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
Okay, I can forgive this one because it\u2019s easy to assume such a detail wasn\u2019t\/ isn\u2019t necessarily common knowledge, and clearly Mr. Little didn\u2019t have the advantages of the internet to learn such details back in 1989. Besides, the symbolic element to the crucifixion is too important to the storyline to nitpick that much. Still, it\u2019s annoying reading those scenes knowing Chrissie should still be fully conscious and moaning in pain. It just feels wrong knowing the detail is wrong. <\/span><\/p>\n\n- Cal\u2019s mother has also killed a neighborhood man\u2026 however there is apparently no outcry from a worried wife or other neighbor. <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
I can forgive this one too because the guy has only been “missing” a few hours and it\u2019s perfectly logical to assume that his disappearance hasn\u2019t been noticed yet.<\/span><\/p>\n\n- The neighborhood man had been walking his dog\u2026 however the dog is never mentioned again, and we can easily envision that if it witnessed the murder of its owner, it would likely bark, growl, and make a public nuisance of itself. We might equally envision it hadn\u2019t witnessed said murder, but in that case would it not be wandering around the neighborhood, leash in tow and conspicuously out of place? <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
This one\u2019s a little harder to forgive. I\u2019ll give Mr. Little half credit. The dog, after all, is unimportant to the storyline and one could argue that taking the time to clean up that little plot hole would be a distraction from what really matters. Still, it IS pretty common knowledge that dogs are extremely loyal to their owners and would behave accordingly should something harmful happen to them. <\/span><\/p>\n\n- Cal\u2019s father has died at some point in the past (enough time has passed for his body to have \u201cdry, empty sockets\u201d)\u2026 however nobody seems to have noticed. Wouldn\u2019t his employer or colleagues notice? What about his mother or siblings or friends? How about the other neighbors? If even one of them had made inquiries, the first place the police would have investigated was at his house, at which point they would have discovered The Santuary and, presumably, arrested Cal\u2019s mother. <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
Sorry, I can\u2019t forgive this one. Not even a little bit. 0% credit. More than enough time has passed for his disappearance to have been noticed by any number of people, and even a legitimately incompetent detective would have easily learned of the truth. I mean\u2026 the guy\u2019s body is right there in the house and he\u2019s still nailed to a frickin\u2019 <\/span>cross<\/span><\/i>. Please. #I\u2019mNotBuyingIt<\/span><\/p>\n\n- Cal\u2019s mother has felt The Rage precisely three times: once many months or years ago\u2026 however the other two were within a single 24-hour period. <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
I\u2019ll give this one a 25%. We can safely assume that her first Rage state took many years to acquire. It started perhaps in childhood or adolescence and culminated at some point over the past year or two, as evidenced by the current state of Father\u2019s body. We can also assume that the intervening time was another building-up phase in which Mother felt that need growing ever so slightly day by passing day. We are even given the shocking oddity of today\u2019s events through Cal\u2019s uncomfortable understanding of the situation when he sees the curtains drawn in the opening paragraph. This is NOT something he sees very often. And yet the VERY NEXT DAY she feels The Rage yet again? Why? Wouldn\u2019t the neighbor guy satiate her need to kill for another few years or months? Give it a week or two at least. The following day is just too weird to feel realistic. <\/span><\/p>\n\n- When Mother kills the neighborhood kid, she does so in her garage, and \u201cthe street [was] filled with the noise of out-of-school kids,\u201d AND she comes running out minutes later covered in blood\u2026 however nobody hears\/ sees anything. <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
Another 0%. Seriously, Bentley, my boy? All those kids, right after school\u2026 one of them\u00a0<\/span>is her victim\u2026 the sounds of chopping shovel into soft flesh is literally described and Cal is described standing in the effing door\u2026 all that evidence, all that noise, and NOBODY notices? Yikes. What kind of pod people are living<\/i> in this town anyway?<\/p>\nOkay, I think I\u2019ve made my point. But what IS my point? <\/span><\/p>\nIt\u2019s this: <\/span><\/p>\nReaders are always more than willing to suspend their disbelief of certain realities (supernatural creatures, magic, implausible technology) for the purposes of enjoying a better story\u2026 however that usually happens in stories that are <\/span>not<\/span><\/i> Realistic Fiction. Little\u2019s tale <\/span>is <\/span><\/i>R.F. (the only monsters here are just crazy humans, after all), and yet there is a constant barrage of moments that pull us out of the world built by the storyteller. Each time we are reminded that we are reading fiction. Each time we are asked to suspend our disbelief a little more. When mild, once or twice per tale is perfectly acceptable. But many of these are severe, and coupled with the sheer volume, a significant element of the story\u2019s enjoyment factor is ruined. <\/span><\/p>\nBefore I move on (I did give this story an A-, after all, so there must be some good things to discuss), I\u2019d like to take a moment to wax poetic about how times change. See, I\u2019ve been reading lots of Cemetery Dance stories from this era, and believe me when I say that this is a common issue. Not all, but <\/span>many <\/span><\/i>stories employ plot elements that are just not based on reality. They feel lazy, like the author couldn\u2019t be bothered to write a one-sentence solution to a problem or (gasp!) take the time to do a little research. Few are as egregious as this story, but there are so <\/span>many<\/span><\/i> of them, I can\u2019t help but assume that horror readers have changed in their expectations and that horror authors have adapted accordingly. If I\u2019m right, then this natural evolution of the quality of the genre is a very good thing. It does make me wonder, though, if this lack of authenticity is (was?) as pervasive in other genres, or whether it\u2019s just a construct of ’80s horror. Perhaps its something that all genres go through in their adolescence years. <\/span><\/p>\nAlrighty then. On to the good stuff! <\/span><\/p>\nDespite the obvious faults, the truth is I really LIKE this story. It hits me on a primitive level, and it does so with oomph and with repetition. <\/span><\/p>\nFirst of all, it\u2019s a nasty tale: Mom is a psychotic religious nut who murders strangers and then sacrifices her own family in a midguided attempt at absolution\u2026 and then the son follows in her footsteps. Yikes. Nasty indeed. If you love horror, you\u2019ve got to have a perverse sense of genuine enjoyment at that combo. <\/span><\/p>\nBut the real kick to the face is how Mr. Little shocks us with alternatives to things we THOUGHT we saw coming. There are many, in fact, but I\u2019ll share the Big Two: <\/span><\/p>\n\n- When Cal\u2019s mother killed the little boy, we know a sacrifice was coming. And since Cal\u2019s sister was already sacrificed, we easily assume it is Cal who would have to fill in that spot. This feeling is heightened by the fact that Cal himself didn\u2019t see it coming until the last moment when he figured out the sounds of sawing wood and hammering nails was his mother constructing another cross. But then we are shocked with the truncated bark of the family dog and are quickly given the visual of Bocephus getting strung up on the cross. This <\/span>Gotcha!<\/span><\/i> moment is all the more powerful because Bocephus is totally innocent. Also, the death of a dog has long been a staple of tugging at heart strings. You got me, Bentley, my boy. Well done, sir. <\/span><\/li>\n
- When Cal goes outside to finally decide whether to turn his mother in or take care of her himself, he instead feels his own Rage come over him. Wait, WHAT?!?! Throughout the story, we see events through Cal\u2019s eyes and watch him battle his own conscience. He <\/span>knows<\/span><\/i> what his mother has done\/ is doing is wrong. In fact, at one point he even uses those exact words. And it\u2019s not once but twice that we see him deliberate about how to deal with her. Even the disembodied voice of his dead sister is almost certainly his own mind talking rather than her ghost. But when the moment finally comes—and, full disclosure, I was 99% convinced he was going to kill her\u2026 probably by whacking her over the head with that bloody shovel—he is instead struck by his own Rage. The reason it shocks us so much is because Little has spent several pages watching Cal work up the courage to do the right thing in one manner or another. Then, suddenly, he veers in the exact opposite direction and instead of either ratting her out, killing her off, or (that missing 1% I was still open to) standing silently by, he ends up joining her—nay, <\/span>replacing<\/span><\/i> her. Yep. The instant I read it I thought <\/span>“Oh of COURSE! It\u2019s in the family genes! He can\u2019t help it either! Duh, Keith!”\u00a0<\/span><\/i>Once again, I tip my hat to you, Mr. Little. <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
Last but not least, let\u2019s talk for a bit about the violence in this story and how it is beautifully intertwined with another staple of good storytelling: Names. <\/span><\/p>\nFirst, note that there are a whopping EIGHT murders!…<\/span><\/p>\n\n- We actively witness three (Mother, Bocephus, and the neighbor boy).<\/li>\n
- We are told about\/ see the bodies of four more (Todd, neighbor man, Chrissie, and Father).<\/li>\n
- We can imply the last (whomever Mother must have killed to warrant Father\u2019s sacrifice).<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
Next, note also that of those eight deaths, only three of those characters have names, all three of which have notable innocence…<\/span><\/p>\n\n- Chrissie (protagonist\u2019s sister)<\/li>\n
- Bocephus (family dog)<\/li>\n
- Todd (small child riding a Big Wheel)<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
Finally, note that of those victims who get names, only Todd MacVicar gets a surname. Let\u2019s stop for a moment and think about why. Neither the neighbor man or the neighbor boy Mother killed are given full names. Meanwhile, “Mother” certainly had a real name. So did “Father.” Yet, while they and Chrissie and Cal himself would have all shared a last name, we are never given one. So why does Todd get one where all the others don\u2019t? Answer: It makes his death more personal, which in turn makes Cal\u2019s turn to the dark side all the more palatable. <\/span><\/p>\nAnd that name Mr. Little chose? \u201cMacVicar\u201d? Ring any bells for you? A “vicar” is a religious term, of course. It\u2019s a member of the clergy defined as either:<\/span><\/p>\n\n- One who stands as a representative for a bishop (a higher-ranking clergy member), or<\/span><\/li>\n
- One who is either in charge of a parish or an incumbant to be so.<\/span><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
Interesting name choice, don\u2019t you think? What might little Todd MacVicar represent? Answer: The next wave of (older) victims. And of what might he be an incumbant? Answer: The Santuary\u2019s fire pit. <\/span><\/p>\nOverall, Mr. Little failed at making his story believable, but honestly I can give him a pass. It was the ’80s, after all, and the rest of the story more than makes up for it. <\/span><\/p>\nNow let\u2019s see if he learned to work out his faults with a few decades of experience…<\/span><\/p>\nTHE NEW: \u201cIn the Room\u201d<\/b><\/span><\/h5>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/cd71.jpg?resize=275%2C350&ssl=1\")
AUTHOR:<\/b> Bentley Little <\/span><\/p>\nAPPEARANCE:<\/b> Cemetery Dance #71: May, 2014. <\/span><\/i>(Story #1 of 13). <\/span><\/p>\nPLOT (with spoilers!):<\/b><\/p>\n
The boy (no name given) is asleep when his father whispers the words, <\/span>\u201cIn the room, I do my dance.\u201d <\/span><\/i>The next morning, his father is gone. <\/span><\/p>\nThe boy was ten, and his father never gave any reason for abandoning the family. The boy\u2019s mother soon learned it was a planned event, though. He\u2019d packed his favorite CDs, taken out a sizeable chunk of the saving account, and given two weeks’ notice at work. His mother never talked about him again. <\/span><\/p>\nAs the next few years pass, the boy began to forget certain details of his father: his clothes, his laugh, his favorite food. The one thing he never forgot were his parting words, which had been incorporated into a dream the night he left: <\/span>\u201cIn the room, I do my dance.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\nIn junior high school, the boy is asked to the Sadie Hawkins Dance by none other than his secret crush: Liz Nguyen. He is overjoyed but, concerned he\u2019d embarass himself on the big day, confesses that he\u2019s horrible at dancing. Liz tells him she is, too, and that they could practice together in her bedroom. <\/span><\/p>\nThe boy immediately hears the echoed words of his missing father: <\/span>\u201cIn the room, I do my dance.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\nSo they practice for a whole week, every day after school. Liz, it turns out, is actually a pretty good dancer, and she proves to be a passable teacher as well. The day of the dance, the boy is feeling cuatiously optimistic that he won\u2019t embarass himself on the dance floor. <\/span><\/p>\nTheir conversation on the ride over is awkward in part because they no longer had the pretense of practicing dance moves to drive the discussion. Topic after topic ends in one-line answers from both of them. Desperate to avoid the worst situation of all—dead silence—the boy asks Liz, \u201cWhat did you do yesterday?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nShe answers, \u201cIn the room. I do my dance.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nThe boy is frozen and instantly afraid. Fortunately, they had by then arrived at the school and they escape the car to the preliminaries of meeting up with friends. Soon Liz and another girl leave to get drinks, and the boy notices she has a different walk about her than what he\u2019d seen just a day or two before. She seems to have lost the self-possession which had originally attracted her to him. She seems to be another person altogether. <\/span><\/p>\nThey kill time mingling and chatting with other kids, but eventually one of the songs he and Liz had practiced to comes through the speakers, and they are obligated to get on the dance floor. Immediately he sees the difference. Liz is suddenly far beyond the boy\u2019s abilities. Their plan to dance together is ruined. He escapes the dance floor, leaving her alone to a room of other dancers which each slowly pick up her \u201cunhinged\u201d and \u201ccrazy\u201d movements, clearing the space around her bit by bit until she danced alone in the middle of the floor. The boy is more dismayed than ever, and leaves the dance with another friend. Liz does not return to school on Monday, and when the boy calls her home, Liz\u2019s mother answers, in tears, and hangs up on him. Liz doesn\u2019t return to school that entire school year, nor ever. Nobody the boy knows ever sees her again. <\/span><\/p>\nMore years pass. The boy, now a young man, has graduated college with a teaching degree in English. He dreams of being a writer but eventually learns the teaching goes a lot better than the writing. <\/span><\/p>\nBy his second year, he has given up trying to write and spends the summer enjoying life instead. Just before school starts at the beginning of his third year, he sees a stranger waving to him from the other side of a parking lot outside a school supply store. Assuming she\u2019s going to try selling him something, he tries to avoid her but she meet him at his car. He politely asks if he can help her with something. <\/span><\/p>\n\u201cIn the room, you can write your story,\u201d she tells him. <\/span><\/p>\nOnce again he is frozen into immobility, and before he understands it\u2019s happening, the woman grabs his wrist and writes an address on the palm of his hand, then leaves. <\/span><\/p>\nThe address is a full 50 miles away in Los Angeles. He goes there and is unsurprised to see the neighborhood is the kind that populates the crime news cycle on a regular basis. He has trouble finding a parking spot, and when he does he is dismayed to realize he has no quarters for the meter. Fortunately, it’s one of the new ones that accepts credit cards, and within minutes he is stepping into the building in question. It\u2019s a multi-story affair. The Room itself is on the 5th floor, and even from the far end of the corridor he can hear music pumping through the closed door. <\/span><\/p>\nNobody answers when he knocks on the door. He tries the door, finds it open, and inside sees a large, dim room crowded with moving people.<\/span><\/p>\nOne man wears a smock and is painting an abstract picture on a giant canvas.<\/span><\/p>\nOne woman is playing a piano.<\/span><\/p>\nAnd one of them is his father, dancing with \u201creckless abandon.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n“I knew you would come!” his father shouts happily.<\/span><\/p>\nThe young man is instantly frightened, not only because his father hasn’t aged in the years since he’d left, but also because of the WAY in which he is dancing. His arms and legs are flailing, sending a feeling of chaotic freedom he\u2019d never associated with his dad, but most of all he has the distinct feeling that the movements themselves are simply <\/span>
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<\/p>\n