Take the Lot and You'll Need a Plot 2

July 6, 2012 12:56 PM
Werner K. Stoebermann Bursche
So, it was late May, 1985. I heard the pot seller say to me, "Take the lot, and you'll need a plot. It will never learn how to talk. Now wake up, _________." He told me to wake up, mispronouncing my name a little. As he said this, I saw a picture of my sister's baby. The connection was supposed to be that if my parents bought this neighboring lot, my sister's baby would die. I told the pot seller that, "I am awake. What do you mean?" He looked pissed that I knew what he said in real time, and pointed to the door without saying anything.

I'm sure that the piece of paper KS gave me to read before this was the Lot,Plot thing. She didn't want to read it to me because it clearly was a threat, because that paper began with the German thing (choose which kid to die and which to let live) and I stopped reading it and told KS that I wanted nothing to do with whatever they were planning. I left.

Other people who knew about this Lot,Plot thing was the pot seller, X, and KS. What sense did the connection make? None, really. It was just a head game and I brushed it off. I had already been harassed for almost 10 months and was told to shut up many times, so why should I start talking about such a weird thing?

As I wrote before, three days went by and I had this going through my mind, so anyone who could read me would have known about it. Monday June 3, 1985 was when my mom and my sister were going to buy the lot, and I made sure the baby was staying with his mother and out of this house. Nothing was going to happen.

That Monday, I didn't hear my mom leave, I was sleeping. I remember talking to KS (or, so I think it was her) on the phone and she was saying, "There are people in your house. You can't see them, but they're there and they have guns. Do what they say." I told her to hold on, put down the phone, and went to my bedroom door. I was thinking she was talking about the police. I wasn't afraid of police. I told KS that if I wasn't back in five minutes, she should call the police.

Fatso was there in my room and pointed to my parent's bedroom, where the crib for the baby was when he stayed the night, or nights. I went there. And the baby was there in the crib and I woke him up as I usually did and laid down on the bed. I held him over my head, put him on the bed beside me, and after about 10 or 15 minutes, I put him on my lap. It felt weird. It reminded me of the time I had a hard on with that toddler 12 years before.

Some lady said, "There you go. That's no so bad, is it?" I had no idea at that time who it was, but she had a snide tone about her. I guess I blacked out, fell asleep or whatever. The next thing I know, she said, "He's not pulling his pants down." Then another woman, it sounded like my sister J, the baby's mother, said, "Oh, I'll do it." Meaning she'll pull my pants down. I was probably freaking out by then. What were they trying to do?

A little blackout minutes and the first woman said that I wasn't getting an erection, she sounded pissed, and told some other people there to give, or show, me "some encouragement." I looked at the wall directly at the foot of the bed and saw just a bit of pants. I was out again.

Again I woke up, in the same place, not even thinking about the baby or those people who were there, and I reached over to my father's nightstand by the bed. I was reaching for the drawer, there was a porno photo there. Some guy was there, not Fatso, who must have opened the drawer and found the picture and said to the woman, "Look what I found."

As he said this, I must have opened my eyes while I turned towards the man's voice. He was standing by the nightstand, and as I turned I saw the woman kneeling on the floor next to the bed, and she looked over at the man, too.  I looked her full in the face, then as she turned her head away from the man, I looked at her again, and she looked at me and mouthed the words, or said, "See JL." The name she mentioned was the pot seller's wife. I didn't think anything of it then, and  I didn't see her as JL, I just went out again.

The next thing I know was that I heard my mom's voice saying, "_____, look at what you're doing." I probably went out again, because that woman started yelling at me, "What did she say to you?" I didn't answer her. I'm assuming that my mom said something in German and that woman didn't understand why I looked again before I fell asleep. So, that woman started screaming at some people near the door of the room or on the other side of the door, "She fucked it up. Get that bitch up here."

I heard a lot of thumping on the stairs, and then heard three knocks on the door, and my mom said, "______, fuck the baby." I must have freaked out. Didn't even know where the baby was. I actually thought of fornication, not fuck as in kill. So I went out again.

Then I woke up again and the guy by the nightstand, who had the picture, said to the lady, "Why are you doing that? You already got..." She said, "He saw my face." She was referring to when I saw her and she said for me to see JL instead of her. I didn't know what the guy was referring to when he asked her why she was doing something.

I couldn't see. The woman said, "Let him see his hands," and the guy must have been blocking my view with something, because it seemed like he lifted something up and away from my face, and all I saw was the baby's face. I didn't see any hands. The baby's face was red, and he looked like he was about to cry. I didn't hear anything. Then I didn't see anything again.

The woman said, "Let him see her hands." Again, the guy lifted something that was blocking my view, and I saw a woman's hand, coming from behind the baby, but I didn't see the baby, and the hand reminded me of KS's hand. Then I was out again.

The woman said, "Let him see his face." Again, I saw the baby's face and he was smiling. Then I was out.

Without being prompted, I looked over at the woman kneeling at the side of the bed. she had her head turned all the way to her right and looking upwards. I looked towards where she was looking and I didn't see anything. It seemed like the guy who was there was holding something she was looking at. Her right arm obscured part of her face, she was reaching to her left while looking towards her right. i saw half of her face. She was a heavy set woman. I call her the Fat Faced Lady.

This lasted longer than any other time I was awake and heard/saw what was going on. It was quiet until the guy said, "Watch the bruising." I didn't think anything of it.

The next thing I knew FatFacedLady was holding the baby and dragging him up and down my side as I laid on the bed and she was screaming, "Look at what you did. He's dead." She did that over and over and laughing at me while I was freaking out. Then she alternated between, "He's dead," and, "He's alive." Still dragging whatever up and down my side. She was laughing and screaming. This went on a long time.

Someone started to take pictures, or flashing a light, while I was posing with this dead (?) baby. Holding him in my lap, I remember looking to my right while I was sitting at the edge of the bed. Flash of light. Then I looked down and thought to myself, "He looks dead." Another flash of light was when I thought the baby was hanging by my father's tie from the doorknob of the closet with me and the pot seller in the shot and I was pointing to the baby and smiling.

I do remember seeing two people very clearly in that room. One was the pot seller and the other was KS. If they were there at all, it was after it was over and it was time to freak me out. It was as if I were looking at still shots of them there. The shot of the pot seller was as if he had just walked into the room and the shot mentioned above about the hanging. The shot of KS was while she said, "What have we here?" as she touched the crib rails. I didn't see them otherwise at that time.

I walked back into my room. I picked up the phone, said something to KS, and hung up. Fatso was pissed, picked up the phone to see if there was still a connection. There wasn't  and asked who was on the phone. I didn't answer, but I called her again and he spoke to her. He was pissed and I wasn't hearing what he was saying. Fatso hung up after a few seconds.

The next thing I remember was being downstairs, sitting in my mother's usual chair.

Next: Take the Lot and You'll Need a Plot  3.