Ah, the American dream. So full of hope and patriotism and being like the rest of our fellow citizens. Who doesn't want a nice big house on the top of a hill with a white picket fence? Your kids are chasing the dog around the yard as you sit with your spouse on the porch knowing you did something right. Your neighbors wave as they're out mowing the lawn, and you hear an ice cream truck in the distance. Perfect life. Such predictability and routine schedules. You know you're not the only one, just by seeing people jogging up and down the streets and smelling a barbecue near by. Complete tranquility. Completely boring.
Now that you hear that, maybe you see the slow lane isn't right for you, maybe you need a little spontaneous actions in your life. Mayeb you're not ready to settle down on the porch of your house enclosed by the fence on the hill. Who could blame you?
It's time to point you in the right direction, the direction down a single lane dirt road. It's a little sketchy, yes, but if you came this far, you're intrigued, or maybe you really have no where else to turn. The lane is surrounded on both sides with tall evergreen trees, blocking the view for miles. In the distance you see a flag wave high above the trees, there are colors on the flag, but they are too far away to make out.
You draw closer until you see a grand caslte with many towers and windows. It's a little creepy, mind you. It's a dark gray in color and has some gargoyles staring down at you from above with their wings out and teeth bared. There is some light to the dark, there are rose bushes surrounding the place, creating a little maze. Hedges clipped into the shapes of dinosaurs and bunnies, how unfitting for such a dark place.
It's a wonder how you've never noticed such a gargantuan castle in your small area.
The gravel crunches under your car as you make your way through the rose bushes and hedges. In the circular driveway you see a pale blue mini van, a black SUV, and a motorcycle. The flag is clear to see now, it's vertically black, yellow, red. You search your brain, trying to remember what country that belongs to. You think and think until finally you've got it! Belgium!
Out the car you step and you can faintly hear noises coming from inside the castle. It sounds to you like furious screaming in another language, laughing, clanking, even splashing. It's too late to turn back now, and you know this is your last hope. Because like everyone else who ever went near the place is like you; a transvestite, nudist, drug addict, it's all the same.
Up in one of the high windows you see a beautiful girl. She's Japanese, you're pretty sure. She has long black hair and a fluffy blue hat with ears. You watch as she puts one foot out the window then the other and holds on from the inside. Tears fall from her eyes, down her cheeks, and on to the hard ground below, disappearing almost immediately. Your eyes widen in shock as you realize she is about to jump. You're frozen in fear, unable to help this woman. You want to help, to run up, pull her back in, and hold her tight, but you can't move. The jump wouldn't be high enough to kill her, just break a few bones, or maybe even paralyze her.
Another person catches your attention. Up on the roof is another person, just observing the Japanese girl like you were. You can't tell if it's a male or female, wet stringy hair hangs in front of his or her face as more splashing happens in the backround. He or she doesn't seem as in shock as you are and just leans there over the edge.
You look back towards the jumper and suddenly a fat hand reaches out and grabs the skinny girl and the window slammed shut. You look back up towards the roof and see the second person is gone.
You stand there frozen and try to process what on Earth just happened. Your mind races in a million directions. Why was she going to jump? Who was the person just watching? Who pulled her back in? Why am I still walking towards the door?
You made it to the intimidating doors. Congratulations. Your shaky hand reaches for the knocker. Once. Twice. No one answers, but you do hear about three different dogs barking from somewhere inside. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Something smashes against the door from the inside and you reel back in fright.
One of the big wooden doors opened, shedding light into the dark front hall. Smoke filters out from a room right next to the door, making you gag. You smell a delicious scent from further down the hall that makes your mouth water. Shards of glass litter the floor from the smashed vase. The yelling has subsided but the uproarious laughter can still be heard, two sets. Also now music, old music, the kind you would hear played from a phonograph.
A little woman standing at three feet tall pushes past you. She doesn't even shoot a glance up at you as she waddled to the mini van. Right behind her was a man. Woman? Man in drag? Looking just as mad as she was. She threw her brief case into the car and the guy in drag hastily got into the driver's seat and sped off in a hurry. You just stare at the wall of dust they left in their wake.
You turn back to the door.
There smiling at you is a man barley at five feet. He is in a butler's uniform with a comb over that makes you cringe and takes the attention away from his hunched back.
You ask if you could stay, if that isn't a problem. He responds in a thick eastern European accent and gestures you into the madness that lurks behind those big wooden door.
Welcome to Casa de Weirods.
