{"id":156,"date":"2009-10-28T12:12:34","date_gmt":"2009-10-28T16:12:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/?p=156"},"modified":"2016-07-12T12:18:44","modified_gmt":"2016-07-12T18:18:44","slug":"excerpt-from-hornets-and-others-by-al-sarrantonio","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/excerpt-from-hornets-and-others-by-al-sarrantonio\/","title":{"rendered":"Excerpt from Hornets and Others by Al Sarrantonio"},"content":{"rendered":"

Excerpt from
\nHornets and Others
\nby Al Sarrantonio<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"Too warm for late October.<\/p>\n

<\/em>Staring out through the open door of his house, Peter Kerlan loosened the top two buttons of his flannel shirt, then finished the job, leaving the shirt open to reveal a gray athletic tee-shirt underneath. Across the street the Meyer kids were re-arranging their newly purchased pumpkins on their front stoop \u2014 first the bigger of the three on the top step, then the middle step, then the lower. They were jacketless, and the youngest was dressed in shorts. Their lawn was covered, as was Kerlan\u2019s, with brilliantly colored leaves: yellow, orange, a dry brown. The neighborhood trees were mostly shorn, showing the skeleton fingers of their branches; the sky was a sharp deep blue. Everything said Halloween was coming \u2014 except for the temperature.<\/p>\n

Jeez, it\u2019s almost hot!<\/p>\n

Behind him, out through the sliding screen door that led to the back yard, Peter could hear Ginny moving around, making an attempt at early Sunday gardening.<\/p>\n

Maybe it\u2019s cold after all.<\/p>\n

He opened the front screen door, retrieved the morning newspaper he had come for, and turned back into the house, unfolding the paper as he went.<\/p>\n

In the kitchen, he sat down at the breakfast table and studied the front page.<\/p>\n

The usual assortment of local mayhem \u2014 a robbery, vandalism at the junior high school, a teacher at that same school suspended for drug use.<\/p>\n

In the back, Ginny cursed angrily; there was the sound of something being knocked against something else.<\/p>\n

\u201cPeter!\u201d she called out.<\/p>\n

He pretended not to hear her for a moment, then answered, \u201cI\u2019m eating breakfast!\u201d and began to study the paper much more closely then it deserved.<\/p>\n

On the second page, more local mayhem, along with the weather \u2014 sunny and unseasonably warm for at least the next three days \u2014 as well as a capsule listing of the rest of the news, which he scanned with near boredom.<\/p>\n

Something caught his eye, and he gave an involuntary shiver as he turned to the page indicated next to the summary and found the headline:<\/p>\n

Hornets Attack Pre-schoolers<\/em><\/p>\n

Another shiver caught him as he noted the picture embedded in the story \u2014 a man clothed in mosquito netting and a pith helmet holding up the remains of a huge papery nest; one side of the structure was caved in and within he could make out the clumped remains of dead insects\u2014<\/p>\n

Again he gave an involuntary shiver, but went on to the story:<\/p>\n

(Parkerton, Special to the Herald, Oct. 24) Scores of pre-schoolers were treated today for stings after a small group of the children inadvertently stirred up a hornets nest which had been constructed in a hollow log. The nest, which contained hundreds of angry hornets, was disturbed when a kickball rolled into it. When one of the children went to retrieve the ball, the insects, according to witnesses, \u201cattacked and kept attacking.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Twenty eight children in all were treated for stings, and the Klingerman Pre-School was closed for the rest of the day.<\/em><\/p>\n

The nest was removed by local bee-keeper Floyd Willims, who said this kind of attack is very common. \u201cThe nests are mature this time of year, and can hold up to five hundred drones, along with the Queen. Actually, new drones are maturing all the time, and can do so until well into fall. With the warm weather this year, their season is extended, probably well into November. The first real cold snap will kill them off.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Willims continued, \u201cEveryone thinks that yellow jackets are bees, but they\u2019re not. They\u2019re hornets, and can get pretty mean when the nest is threatened. At the end of the season, next year\u2019s Queens will leave the nest, and winter in a safe spot, before laying eggs and starting the whole process over again with a new nest.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

As of last night, none of the hornet stings had proved dangerous, and Klingerman Pre- School will reopen tomorrow.<\/em><\/p>\n

Peter finished the story, looked at the picture again \u2014 the bee-keeper holding the dead nest up with a triumphant grin on his face \u2014 and gave a third involuntary shiver.<\/p>\n

Ugh.<\/p>\n

At that moment Ginny appeared at the back sliding door, staring in through the screen. He looked up at her angry face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t get that damned shed door open!\u201d she announced. \u201cCan you help me please?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAfter I finish my breakfast\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Huffing a breath, she turned and stormed off.<\/p>\n

\u201cAren\u2019t you going to eat with me?\u201d he called after her, hoping she wouldn\u2019t turn around.<\/p>\n

She stopped and came back. \u201cNot when you talk to me with that tone in your voice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat tone?\u201d he protested, already knowing that today\u2019s version of \u2018the fight\u2019 was coming.<\/p>\n

She turned and gave him a stare \u2014 her huge dark eyes as flat as stones. She was as beautiful as she had ever been, with her close cropped blonde hair and anything but boyish looks. \u201cAre we going to start again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly if you want to,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI never want to. But I don\u2019t know how much more of this I can take.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much more of what?\u201d<\/p>\n

She stalked off, leaving the door open. After a moment, Peter threw down the paper and followed her, closing the sliding screen door behind him and dismounting the steps of the small deck. She was in front of the garden shed, a narrow, four foot deep, one story-high structure attached to the house to the right of his basement office window.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m here,\u201d he said, not at all surprised that she momentarily ignored him.<\/p>\n

Jeez, it is hot! he thought, looking up at a sun that looked summer-bright, and then surveying the back yard. The colored leaves fallen from the tall oaks that bordered the back yard looked incongruous, theatrical. There was an uncarved pumpkin on the deck of the house behind theirs; it looked out of place in the heat.<\/p>\n

Peter turned to stare at Ginny\u2019s little garden, to the right of the shed, which displayed late annuals; they were a riot of summer color which normally would have been gone by this time of year, killed by the first frost which had yet to come.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been weeding by hand,\u201d she explained, \u201cbut I\u2019d like to get some of the tools out and get ready for next spring. I\u2019ve been having trouble with the shed door again.\u201d<\/p>\n

He stepped around her, pulled at the structure\u2019s wooden door, which gave an angry creak but didn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n

\u201cHeat\u2019s got the wood expanded; I\u2019ll have a look at it when I get a chance.\u201d He gave it a firmer pull, satisfied that it wouldn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t there anything you can do about it now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d He knew he sounded nasty, but didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n

She reddened with anger, then brought herself under control. \u201cPeter, I\u2019m going to try again. We\u2019ve been through this fifty times. You\u2019re punishing me, and there isn\u2019t any reason. I know it\u2019s been rocky between us lately. But I don\u2019t want it to be like that! Can\u2019t you just meet me halfway on this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHalfway to hell?\u201d<\/p>\n

She was quiet for a moment. \u201cI love you,\u201d she said, \u201cbut I just can\u2019t live like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike what?\u201d he answered, angry and frustrated.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo matter what I do you find something wrong with it \u2014 all you do is criticize!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI…don\u2019t,\u201d he said, knowing as it came out that it wasn\u2019t true.<\/p>\n

She took a tentative step forward, reached out a hand still covered in garden loam. She let the hand fall to her side.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, Peter,\u201d she said slowly, eyes downward. \u201cI know things haven\u2019t been going well for you with your writing, believe me I do. But you can\u2019t take it out on me. It\u2019s just not fair.\u201d<\/p>\n

Male pride fought with truth. He took a deep breath, looking at her, as beautiful as the day he met her \u2014 he was driving her away and didn\u2019t know how to stop.<\/p>\n

\u201cI…know I\u2019ve been difficult\u2014\u201d he began.<\/p>\n

She laughed. \u201cDifficult? You\u2019ve been a monster. You\u2019ve frozen me out of every corner of your life. We used to talk, Peter; we used to try to work things out together. You\u2019ve gone through these periods before and we\u2019ve always gotten through them together. Now…\u201d She let the last word hang.<\/p>\n

He was powerless to tell her how he felt, the incomprehensible frustration and impotence he felt. \u201cIt\u2019s like I\u2019m dry inside. Hollow…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPeter,\u201d she said, and then she did put a dirt-gloved hand on his arm. \u201cPeter, talk to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

He opened his mouth then, wanting it to be like it had been when they first met, when he had poured his heart out to her, telling her about the things he had inside that he wanted to get out, the great things he wanted to write about, his ambition, his longings \u2014 she had been the only woman he ever met who would listen to it, really listen to it. He had a sixth sense that if he did the wrong thing now it would mean the end, that he had driven her as far away as he dared, and that if he pushed her a half step farther she would not return.<\/p>\n

He said, \u201cWhy bother?\u201d<\/p>\n

Again she reddened with anger, and secretly he was enjoying it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going out for the day. We\u2019ll talk about this later.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever you say.\u201d He gave her a thin smile.<\/p>\n

She turned away angrily, and after a moment he heard the screen door slide shut loudly, the front door slam, and the muted roar of her car as she left.<\/p>\n

Why did you do that? he asked himself.<\/p>\n

And a moment later he answered: Because I wanted to.<\/p>\n

Click here to read more about this book!<\/a><\/span><\/em><\/strong><\/h2>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Excerpt from Hornets and Others by Al Sarrantonio Too warm for late October. Staring out through the open door of his house, Peter Kerlan loosened the top two buttons of his flannel shirt, then finished the job, leaving the shirt open to reveal a gray athletic tee-shirt underneath. Across the street the Meyer kids were … Continue Reading! “Excerpt from Hornets and Others by Al Sarrantonio”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-156","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-excerpts"],"yoast_head":"\nExcerpt from Hornets and Others by Al Sarrantonio - 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