Brain-Pan

Here is a quick little story I wrote for my college class. Enjoy!

The Watcher

By Manuel Lagos, Jr.

Beneath the moonless Tennessee night on the winding vertebrae of The Devil’s Backbone, a figure mounted his horse. Transporting letters along the dangerous Natchez Trace; it was not an envied job, but a job nonetheless. He was sore from the constant riding along the roughly hewn trail. Worse, he could not afford lodging at one of the shady establishments along the trace. Overworked, underpaid- the working man is a timeless figure.

Like the silhouette of a shadow puppet, the postman rode along the dark passage. He could not see the road before him, nor did he care to see it. Completing his route was the only thing that mattered. Getting his salary was the only thing that mattered. All else was immaterial.

The rider could feel the trail getting rockier, but the horse rode on. The bag of mail across his shoulder jostled even more against his already raw skin. And then it snapped. The letters and parcels streamed out of his broken satchel. The rider halted his horse and caught much of his mail. Yet, he saw some letters blow in the wind, like white leaves rustling in the night. He immediately knew that he must venture into the black of the night and recover the lost mail otherwise he would find himself without employment.

Horse tied to the nearest tree, the rider set out to find the letters strewn through the clearing that led off the Trace. It soon became apparent to the rider that he was wandering closer towards two buildings. He recognized the cabins as Grinder’s Inn; he was taught to avoid the place from other postmen. What he didn’t recognize was the strange figure outside one of the cabins. Was it another person? But the closer the rider stepped, the more he was sure of it. There was a person entering one of the cabins.

It’s their business, not mine, thought the rider as he located the nearest letter. Stooping to collect the piece of mail, a noise rang in the rider’s ears. A gunshot. The rider immediately straightened himself and looked about for the source of the sound. Another shot. It was coming from the cabin that the figure had entered. He had seen the muzzle fire shine light between the cracks of the cabin wall. The rider could only think of one thing- run. But all he could manage to do was clumsily squat in the shadows of the nearby foliage.

Breath bated, the rider became a watcher as he waited for the killer to leave the cabin. It seemed that an hour passed before the killer left. The murderer departed with a bag that he did not have before. When the killer had disappeared in the shadows, the watcher had every intention of leaving. That was the moment that he noticed something lying at the cabin doorstep. It was bright white against the dark horizon. It was a letter. No. It can’t be. The rider tried to convince himself otherwise but it was in vain. If that letter belonged to someone of any import, he would lose his job.

With a gulp of his dry throat, the watcher slowly stood up. His body suddenly remembered that it ached and his muscles burned again. Each step seemed as loud as his heartbeat . What if the killer is still around? For the first time that night, the rider’s environment meant everything to him.

He tried not to look towards the cabin as he drew close to the letter. But his eyes wandered and noticed the cabin door was open. The first thing the watcher saw was the blood, the dark crimson blood that shone in the night. The killer had tracked the blood onto the letter when he left. The rider reached for the letter. His hands shook as he picked up the letter; he smeared the blood across the paper and his fingers. Looking up, a bone-white shape reached for him. The victim fell onto the watcher’s feet. Blood and bone, skin and slobber, the man’s face was mangled. He was muttering one word, “Water…”

There was no telling who he was. That was when the rider remembered hearing word of a governor making his way to Washington D.C. along the Trace. There was mention that he might have quite a bit of money with him. The watcher realized that he had just watched a murder and robbery. And a dying man’s body was lying against his boots.

I need to leave. The watcher had collected all the lost mail that he saw, even though many letters were now blotted with red marks. Even so, the watcher walked away. Apathetic, he simply turned his back on the dying man. It was easier to do than he expected.

The watcher suppressed the memory; when asked about that night, he had found the man dead. The man he later found out was Meriwether Lewis, the governor of the Louisiana Territory and hero of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. But what did it matter? The watcher kept his job and he moved on with his life as though the incident never happened.

With a back turned to those in need, the watcher lives on today. That watcher lives in every American. The watcher is pre-occupied and cannot stop to help people along the path. To the watcher, each human is just another face, another blurred memory that has no emotional connection or spiritual worth. The watcher walks through the moonless night, back to a passionless job and an unremarkable life. Worst of all, there is blood on the watcher’s hands.

Please let me know what you thought. (If you've made it this far.) 

God bless, and don't forget to use your brain-pan!

-Manny

Hey everyone!

      I know its been a long time since I've updated the blog and just wanted to catch you up on a few things.

• I WON'T be updating the blog as much as last year. I know it was a tone of fun, especially my ufinished and untitled fantasy story, but priorities get in the way of time-consuming writings like this so...sorry.
• I WILL be uploading a lot of videos this year. I have invested in some new equipment and hope to bring even funnier, higher quality videos, more often.
• I WILL be cultivating our YouTube channel, so if you have a YouTube account and like our videos, please subscribe.
  
• I WILL be offering a much more reasonable quote for videography services (at Brain-pan Media) as I won't have to rent a camera anymore. 

So, that's the rundown for 2012. Of course things are going to change. People will change, places will change...which leaves me asking one question: O, 2012, what shalt though bring?

God bless, and don't forget to use your brain-pan!

-Manny

Whew! It's been a while. I truly apologize for not posting lately. And yes, I've stopped writing my Untitled Fantasy Serial, for right now (Dum! Dum! Daaa!), as I have not had the time or mental energy to overcome the story roadblock I have hit. So I'm not blogging much, and I'm not writing much, not posting any new graphics... So what AM I doing?

• Well, I am trying to keep a steady stream of new videos posted here on Brain-pan, weekly! (The 008 Happy Meal: The Second Course is online!) Please, feel free to let me know what you think.
  
• On that note, I have launched a NEW SITE called Brain-pan Media. It is all about THE BUSINESS. I am now doing graphic design, and videography!
  
• And on THAT note, I have a huge, awesome, new, hilarious, huge, awesome, new, project! I'll give you this, it is our most ambitious film project, yet! I hope to bring you a trailer by early next year....sorry for the long wait.
  

Anyway, I'm writing this cuz I am inside of the eye of the storm. The past few weeks have been an unbridled blaze of graphic design and (primarily) editing videos. Then my computer kept crashing. So that is being worked on, and then my external hard drive got messed up. (I'm skipping the computer mumbo-jumbo.) So, here I am, blogging, because I am in the eye of my work storm. As soon as this is over, I guess I'll be back in the crazy, blaze of editing...fun.

And since I am here, I will give you guys a brief movie review of the indie film The Adventures of Power. The story of a small-town misfit who takes his dream of being a REAL air drummer to an air drumming competition in Newark, NJ. Since I edited while watching this movie, I will have to give it another screening to have a complete opinion on it. But as of right now, it deserves four stars. Cinematography, acting, and soundtrack is great! My main beef was the sense of humor, frankly, they didn't go for as many jokes as they could've. And sometimes the dialogue felt...pointlessly rude (although it barely PG-13). And then on the other hand, the dialogue and humor was perfect in some scenes. Un-even writing? Possibly. But it is worth a watch in my opinion.

UPDATE: Since re-watching the movie, along with the director's commentary, I have come to appreciate Adventures of Power much more. It is funnier than I first assumed it to be. And really, not terribly rude. (A couple of brief, vulgar comments.) I also found out that a lot of the great music was actually written by the director's brother, which is even more kudos to the soundtrack. Also, the DVD is full of extras even with a PDF of the director's postcards during production. Upon closer examination, I found the writing NOT to be uneven, but an interesting mix of comedy, social commentary, and fantasy. A great rent or even a great buy for fans of indie film and rock music.

Please check out Brain-pan Media and watch our new videos here on the Videos page...And that wraps up my thoughts as I sit inside an eye.

God bless, and don't forget to use YOUR brain-pan!

-Manny

P.S.: To pass time while inside an eye, find a good TV show on DVD!