I was walking in the night
And I saw nothing scary.
For I have never been afraid
Of anything. Not very.
Then I was deep within the woods
When, suddenly, I spied them.
I saw a pair of pale green pants
With nobody inside them!
I wasn’t scared. But, yet, I stopped
What could those pants be there for?
What could a pair of pants at night
Be standing in the air for?
And then they moved? Those empty pants!
They kind of started jumping.
And then my heart, I must admit,
It kind of started thumping.
So I got out. I got out fast
As fast as I could go, sir.
I wasn’t scared. But pants like that
I did not care for. No, sir.
After that a week went by.
Then one dark night in Grin-itch
(I had to do an errand there
And fetch some Grin-itch spinach)……
Well, I had fetched the spinach.
I was starting back through town
When those pants raced around a corner
And they almost knocked me down!
I lost my Grin-itch spinach
But I didn’t even care.
I ran for home! Believe me,
I had really had a scare!
Now, bicycles were never made
For pale green pants to ride ‘em,
Especially spooky pale green pants
With nobody inside ‘em!
And the NEXT night, I was fishing
For Doubt-trout on Roover River
When those pants came rowing toward me!
Well, I started in to shiver.
And by now I was SO frightened
That, I’ll tell you, but I hate to….
I screamed and rowed away and lost
my hook and line and bait, too!
I ran and found a Brickle bush
I hid myself away.
I got brickles in my britches
But I stayed there anyway.
I stayed all night. The next night, too
I’d be there still, no doubt,
But I had to do an errand
So, the next night, I went out.
I had to do an errand,
Had to pick a peck of Snide
In a dark and gloomy Snide-field
That was almost nine miles wide.
I said, “I do not fear those pants
With nobody inside them.”
I said, and said, and said those words.
I said them. But I lied them.
Then I reached inside a Snide bush
And the next thing that I knew,
I felt my hand touch someone!
And I’ll bet that you know who.
And there I was! Caught in the Snide!
And in that dreadful place
Those spooky, empty pants and I
were standing face to face!
I yelled for help. I screamed. I shrieked.
I howled. I yowled. I cried,
“OH, SAVE ME FROM THESE PALE
GREEN PANTS WITH NOBODY INSIDE!”
But then a strange thing happened.
Why, those pants began to cry!
Those pants began to tremble.
They were just as scared as I!
I never heard such whimpering
And I began to see
That I was just as strange to them
As they were strange to me!
I put my arm around their waist
And sat right down beside them.
I calmed them down.
Poor empty pants
With nobody inside them.
And now, we meet quite often,
Those empty pants and I,
And we never shake or tremble,
We both smile and we say…”Hi!”
I just read someone else’s review of Kate Genet’s Scarcity. Unable to believe it was as disappointing as the reviewer made it out to be, I quickly read it myself. Quickly being the operative here. It’s a short story. Took all of twenty minutes to read. Something the previous reviewer must have overlooked as she was so disappointed the story was, well, short.
The main character is an artist, and if Scarcity was a work of art it would be a quick sketch, finely drawn with a brooding tension. Indeed, Scarcity displays a pleasing level of maturity in Genet’s fiction and is my favorite work of hers to date.
The only thing that bothered me about Scarcity is that it’s free. Genet still gives her work away for nothing. She is a fine writer and deserves to be justly compensated. So download Scarcity at smashwords.com, read it, then write a review and post it for her. Consider it a “thank you” note for the gift she gave.
Delightful novel about two Section 8 housing moms, with teenage children, trying to patch their lives together. Not only does Chadwick do a great job with the teens in the novel (Tex is a crackup!), she perfectly captures the frustration and love of mothers with teens. Her writing is crisp, by turns funny and tender, and her dialogue genuine and unaffected. Albeit a tad predictable, Angels and Manners is a charming read in the tradition of Rita Mae Brown. A solid four stars.