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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
T.J. Klune
Read between
April 22 - July 9, 2024
“Oh no,” Lucy moaned. “Is he going senile? He’s so old, he’s losing his mind! Help! Please, someone help us! This man who is supposed to be watching us is going senile and I worry what he might do!”
“We’re going to the graveyard,” Lucy added in an ominous monotone. “Do a lot of people die here? I hope so.”
“You can’t tell by the way he dresses, but sometimes, Mr. Baker has good taste.”
“And I hope he remembers to do the same for me, so I don’t have to spend my own money and feel left out and have to open a pit to hell and watch this village be swallowed whole. Because that would just be so easy.”
“Who’s the square?” J-Bone whispered. “Mr. Baker,” Lucy whispered back. “He’s here to make sure I don’t burn anyone alive with the power of my mind and then consume their souls from their smoking carcass.”
“Rock on, little dude,” J-Bone said, offering a high five which Lucy gladly accepted. “I mean, I hope that doesn’t happen to me, but you do you.”
She smiled, that is, until a woman came running up the sidewalk, snatching her away, a horrified look on her face. She held the girl against her, turning the girl’s head against her shoulder. She glared at Talia through the glass. “How dare you?” she snapped. “You leave my daughter alone, you freak!” Linus stepped forward angrily. “Now, see here—” But the woman spat wetly at the window and then turned and hurried away, the little girl held tightly against her chest.
“Words can hurt too,” Lucy told him. “I know. But we must pick and choose our fights. Just because someone else acts a certain way, doesn’t mean we should respond in kind. It’s what makes us different. It’s what makes us good.” “Big man is right,” J-Bone said, coming up behind them. “People suck, but sometimes, they should just drown in their own suckage without our help.”
“That there’s so much hope even when it doesn’t seem like it.” He was gobsmacked. “How do you mean?” “The little girl. She wasn’t scared of me. She was nice. She didn’t care what I looked like. That means she can make up her own mind. Maybe that woman will tell her I’m bad. And maybe she’ll believe it. Or maybe she won’t believe it at all. Arthur told me that in order to change the minds of many, you have to first start with the minds of few. She’s just one person. But so is the lady.”
he dead? Do we need to bury him? Let me go get my tools, and we can—” “Nah, he’s not dead. I didn’t think that would make Mr. Baker too happy, so I let him keep his insides on his inside.”
“Nah,” J-Bone said. “Your money’s not good here. You get those for free, little dude. Sorry about the whole Marty-trying-to-exorcise-you thing. Give me some skin.”
“He gave it to me,” Chauncey cried. “I didn’t have to ask! All I did was tell the bellhop I thought he was the greatest man who ever lived and that when I grew up, I wanted to be just like him, and he gave it to me. Can you believe that?” He set it back on his head. “How does it look?”
Helen sighed. “What a daft little bitch.” “I want to be just like you when I grow up,” Talia breathed in awe. Phee stood next to her, nodding in agreement. She held Sal in her arms, his face pressed against her neck. Helen winced. “Oh. Ignore me. I shouldn’t have said that. Never curse, children. Understood?” They nodded, but Linus could already see Lucy mouthing daft little bitch in glee.
“The mayor?” Talia asked. “Do you do everything?” Linus had to agree. He hadn’t expected that. “You would think so,” Helen said. She glanced at the door, still swinging on its hinges. “And apparently that includes cleaning up after men throwing their snits. Honestly. For all their bluster, I’ve noticed that men melt so very easily. Little snowflakes, they are.” “I don’t,” Lucy told her seriously. “I was going to make him think his skin was boiling off before you got here. But I’m still a man.”
what those people think won’t matter in the long run. Hate is loud, but I think you’ll learn it’s because it’s only a few people shouting, desperate to be heard. You might not ever be able to change their minds, but so long as you remember you’re not alone, you will overcome.”
Helen frowned as she glanced at the poster on the wall. “Yes. That. It’s—unfortunate. We get trapped in our own little bubbles, and even though the world is a wide and mysterious place, our bubbles keep us safe from that. To our detriment.” She sighed. “But it’s so easy because there’s something soothing about routine. Day in and day out, it’s always the same. When we’re shaken from that, when that bubble bursts, it can be hard to understand all that we’ve missed. We might even fear it. Some of us even fight to try and get it back. I don’t know that I would fight for it, but I did exist in a
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She reached out and took his hand in hers. “Change comes when people want it enough, Mr. Baker. And I do. I promise you that. It may take some time, but you’ll see. Today has been a swift kick in the seat of my trousers.” She squeezed his hand and let go.
“A home isn’t always the house we live in. It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?”
we have enclosed a semi-complete file on Arthur Parnassus. He is, as you’ll soon see, not who you think he is. The Marsyas Orphanage is an experiment of sorts. To see if someone of his … demeanor could be in charge of a group of unusual children. To keep them all in one place in order to protect our way of life. The island is well-known to him, seeing as how he grew up there in an orphanage that was once closed down because of him.
Linus thought it was far too late to shield his heart.
“Back then, I thought it was what I deserved for being what I was. He beat that into me enough until I had no choice but to believe him.”
We are who we are not because of our birthright, but because of what we choose to do in this life. It cannot be boiled down to black and white. Not when there is so much in between. You cannot say something is moral or immoral without understanding the nuances behind it.”
It may not have been by your hand that he suffered, but it was by your ideals. The ideals of DICOMY. Of a registration. Of the prejudice against them. You allow it to fester, you and all the people before you who sat where you do now. You keep them segregated from everyone else because they’re different than the rest of us. People fear them because they’re taught to. See something, say something. It inspires hatred.”
Sometimes, he thought to himself in a house in a cerulean sea, you were able to choose the life you wanted. And if you were of the lucky sort, sometimes that life chose you back.
