Phoenix Chapter Two: The Snakehouse

Chapter Two: The Snakehouse

A few months later, Rogan walked into Midas Muffler and clocked in. Ryan, the stocky red-headed manager, waved, phone tucked between shoulder and ear. Rogan returned the wave and rolled up the sleeves of his uniform shirt. The smells of hot oil and exhaust enfolded him in the smell that was work.

The head mechanic, Gary, shouted over the sound of air tools, “Tire rotation on the Oldsmobile,” and gestured toward the line of work orders tucked in their plastic sleeves with car keys attached. Rogan selected the correct set of keys and walked into the dewy morning air to drive the Oldsmobile into the bay. 

Four busy hours later, Rogan was musing over his lunch. He got the guitar he wanted and now wanted a new amp. The one he had was a piece of s**t, crackling during the louder parts and a hole right through the speaker. Not that he would be able to practice much. His father was home way too much, now that he was back on unemployment. At least he had noise canceling headphones, so he could enjoy the extensive metal collection on his phone. Once again he thought about moving out. 

This was going through his mind as he sipped coffee on his lunch break. Ryan poked his head in the break room. 

“Me and Rita are going to Marco's tonight. Want to come along?”

Rogan was wary. Rita had a tendency to play matchmaker and he was a bit tired of having girls shoved at him. 

Ryan must have seen this, because he added, “No one else. I promise. Just Rita and me.” 

“In that case, yeah, I'll come along. You get off at six, too?”

“Nope, off at five thirty, but we'll wait for you before ordering.”

Rogan found Ryan and Rita, alone as promised, sitting in a booth under a Shell gas station sign. Rita had short, shiny chestnut hair and was quite petite. He slipped onto the vinyl bench on Rita's side of the table. Rita's smile for him seemed extra big, like she had a secret. And she did. After they ordered a pepperoni pizza and another round of beers, Rita told the news she'd been bursting with since he arrived.

“Ryan and I are moving in together.” Her smile was so bright and genuine, Rogan grinned too as he congratulated the couple.

“When are you guys going to tie the knot?” Rogan asked.

“Maybe when I finish my accounting degree.” 

Their beers arrived and talk continued about the happy couple's plans. 

“I'm going to be moving into Rita's next weekend, on Sunday. Can you give me a hand with my stuff?”

“Sure. You going to rent a truck?”

“No, Rita's cousin has a pick-up. I'm borrowing that.” Ryan looked at Rogan. “You want to take my room when I move out?”

Rogan never mentioned how intolerable his home situation was, but thought Ryan sensed his unhappiness about living with his parents.

“It's just a room in a house, not an apartment, but it's a nice space. The landlord is pretty cool. And it's way cheaper than a full one bedroom.” 

“Who's the landlord?”

“Funny guy named Richard Bohner.” Ryan's expression turned wicked. “Don't ever call him Dick Boner. He'd set his snakes on you.” 

Rogan recoiled. “Snakes?” 

“He keeps snakes. Oh, don't worry, they never go upstairs when they get loose. You leave them alone, they leave you alone.”

“And it's Dick Boner? I know him, from grade school. He liked snakes back then too.” 

“He goes by his middle name now, Leo. Don't ever mention you know his first name.”

The next day, going through the motions of unscrewing the oil filter on the Honda he was working on, he thought this over. His parents were as unpleasant as ever. He already chipped in for rent and frequently paid emergency bills, like three month overdue electricity bills and bounced mortgage checks. He had been buying groceries for himself as well. It probably wouldn't mean much difference in finances. 

To live somewhere peaceful... He'd like that. And Leo, the landlord, was nothing if not quiet. He removed the oil filter, chucked it in the bin, grabbed a new one from the box. He could talk to the guy. Just ask what the arrangements would be, look at the room. He smeared a bit of oil on the filter gasket, slipped it in place and screwed it in until it seated properly. Giving it another three quarter turn, he decided he'd check it out. 

Leo's place was about as weird as he expected it to be. The exterior of the Victorian house was silver-gray wood, all paint long since gone, and vines had taken over one corner of the house. Leo, a small man with short blonde hair and blue eyes behind square black-rimmed glasses, met Rogan on the porch. 

Inside, it was warm, dry and a little dusty but otherwise clean. All the doors were closed, except the dining room at the end of the hall. The dining room was dim, the windows covered in velvet curtains probably as old as the house. There were eight terrariums taking up all of the spacious room, leaving only an alley to reach the kitchen. 

Peering in the nearest terrarium, Rogan saw an orange and yellow snake of unusual beauty, but Leo led the way to the kitchen, which was cavernous. It appeared functional. The gas stove was ancient and the sink was chipped porcelain, but the refrigerator was new, and there was a pleasant breakfast nook.

“You'd get two shelves in the fridge and we take turns cleaning the kitchen. You do your own dishes. Don't let them pile up too much. You're free to use my pots and pans as long as you clean them right away.” 

As Leo escorted Rogan through the dining room again and upstairs, he said, “I go out of town a lot but you don't need to worry about the snakes, they only eat once  a week and I give them a mouse apiece before I leave.”   

Upstairs, all the doors were closed. Leo led the way to one with a padlock. Opening the door, it turned out to be a large, sunny room. Someone installed venetian blinds and it was dust free. The fireplace had an ornate mantle and the ceiling fixture was quite elegant. There was already a bed and enough room for a couch and coffee table. It even had its own adjoining bathroom. The fixtures were old, but clean and functional. And it was quiet. No TV blaring, no arguing parents, no strife and discord. Just quiet snakes and quiet Leo. 

“Five hundred dollars a month?” Leo nodded. “Everything included, no electricity bill or anything?”

“Everything included,” agreed Leo.

“I'll take it.”

The next day at Midas, Ryan asked, “How'd it go with Leo?” 

“I'm taking it. You think you could give me a ride when I move in? I don't have much.”

“Sure, Rogan, no problem,” Ryan said. “Dude, I'm glad you're moving in. Leo is a good guy. I was worried about his next tenant. Leo is so shy, he might be a pushover if some creep moved in.”

Rogan had avoided a lot of fuss by not telling his parents he was moving until he was actually packed up. With Ryan at the curb, engine running, Rogan climbed the stairs two at a time and grabbed his clothes and amp. He came downstairs and dumped them next to the door, then went back up to get his tools and guitar. He ferried the guitar and amp down to the car first, leaving his tools and clothes for a second trip. 

“What is this s**t?” His father kicked at Rogan’s duffle. Rogan was glad his guitar was already in the car. His father could kick his clothes all he wanted, but his guitar was valuable.  

“I’m leaving.” 

“You little a*s wipe, where do you think you’re going?” 

Rogan’s father no longer towered over him. They saw eye-to-eye now, both of them 6'4”. He looked at the man who spawned him and felt bubbling hatred and a strong desire to just be gone. 

“That’s not your business anymore, where I go. I’m 18 and I’m outta here.” As he reached for the duffle, his father grabbed him roughly by the shoulder.

“You're no damn good, just like your sister. You'll end up just like your sister.”

Rage blotting out surprise at his own actions, Rogan found himself plowing his fist into his father's jaw. His father was heavier, but Rogan was faster. He pulled back his tool bag and swung it into his father's stomach before his father could retaliate. 

“Don't you ever talk to me about Lucy. Ever. I know what you did to her. I know, you mother f****r.”   

His mother had been watching from the kitchen doorway and was wringing her hands. Rogan turned to her.

“You knew too, didn't you? You knew and didn't do anything. I lay her at your door. You can both rot in hell.”  

He was out the door and on his way down to Ryan’s car before his father had time to catch his breath. 

Ryan helped him carry his stuff upstairs, and then Rogan was left alone in his room. He started shaking, the adrenaline catching up with him. He managed to behave pretty normally in Ryan's car, but reaction had set in. Sitting on the bed, he held his hand out and watched it tremble, as he thought of Lucy, his sister. Run away and gone. Leaving him behind. He was finally out, too. He thought she would approve.     

Eventually he looked around his new domain. He needed a couch and a TV, but for now he had a really comfortable bed (queen size) and his phone would do for music. Cuing up some Anthrax on his phone, he stashed his tools in the closet and put the guitar on its stand in one corner. He got out his one ornament, a framed watercolor picture of himself, Claire, Allison and Andy on a pier on Lake Michigan, at sunset. Allison had made it for him. He put the picture on the mantle, and he was moved in.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading. Any and all comments are welcome.

Reviews

[MoonlitWillow]

This chapter gives more insight into Rogan, without being a lot of info-dump. We can see that he comes from a troubled home, that something happened to his sister, that his mother was just a bystander to it all, because you showed it. Similarly, we can see he's passionate about music for the same reason. It was shown, not outright told. I'm curious as to where the story is going, and what story you want to tell. Is it a coming of age story? That's my guess. Will he try to contact his sister, now that he's safe too? I'm also curious to see how his daily life will change with his new living situation. I think a lot of people can relate to just wanting peace in their home, wherever it is. Nice work!

One small thing I would change is the description of Rita. Instead of just stating that Rita was a petit woman with short, shiny chestnut hair, maybe weave it in a little. If a character's appearance has no real purpose to the story, there's no real point in reading about it. For example, you could write something like, "He noticed a familiar head of short, shiny chestnut hair and found Rita sitting at a booth beside Ryan - just the two of them, as promised." That way the description of the character occurs more naturally.

Anyway, another good chapter. I'll continue on to the next, because I want to know more.

[SweetNutmeg]

Thank you for delineating what about the chapter worked for you. It is gratifying (we all like praise) as well as helpful. You have to know what you're doing right as well as where you are missing the mark.

I agree with your comment about the description of Rita. I will mark that on my master doc as well. I'm getting such a wealth of feedback, it might take me a while to process it all and revise accordingly. I'm very happy to have so much to work on!

[MoonlitWillow]

I think the wealth of feedback is due to the fact that people are invested in your story! They care about it enough to want to help you polish it.

[wtp]

You do a nice job of painting Rogan's new living situation, both before and after moving in. The snakes are an interesting touch; I wondered if they might figure in later.

Moving day was nicely done. Both conflict avoidance and conflict helped fill in the relationship with his parents. You also provided clues about his sister without giving too much away, keeping the reader's interest.

However, I had a little trouble picturing the altercation with his father. After Rogan hits his father, once with his fist and a second time with the tool bag, he still has to get his clothes, the tool bag, his guitar and the amp down to Ryan's car. That is too much to carry in one load. How does he get them all safely into the car without his father taking a measure of revenge? He won't stay doubled over forever! Having some of Rogan's gear stowed in the car before the altercation might be one solution...

Like chapter 1, Rogan is shown as a gentleman, or at least being very picky about women: “Rita had a tendency to play matchmaker and he was a bit tired of having girls shoved at him.”

One nitpick: Rogan wants to buy a new amp, since all he has is "just a dinky one from the pawn shop, just to practice on". In a later chapter, he buys a new Fender Frontman. I don't know much about amplifiers, but it appears a Fender Frontman is just a practice amp. If the Frontman is going to be a step up, you might want to elaborate on the current amp's negative qualities...

[SweetNutmeg]

I see what you mean about carrying the stuff to the car. I will change that to make more sense.
read moreI see what you mean about carrying the stuff to the car. I will change that to make more sense.

I don't know much about amps. I did a little research to see what I thought he could afford, and came up with the Frontman. He's not trying to get an amp for performing, just for his private use. But I don't know enough about amps to critique one. Maybe it shorts out randomly? I dunno, You've got a good point there. I will consult my music friends.

Thank you again for your very helpful feedback.

[SweetNutmeg]

I see what you mean about carrying the stuff to the car. I will change that to make more sense. read more I see what you mean about carrying the stuff to the car. I will change that to make more sense.

I don't know much about amps. I did a little research to see what I thought he could afford, and came up with the Frontman. He's not trying to get an amp for performing, just for his private use. But I don't know enough about amps to critique one. Maybe it shorts out randomly? I dunno, You've got a good point there. I will consult my music friends.

Thank you again for your very helpful feedback.

(It didn't post my whole response, so I'm trying again)

[Christoph]

As I'm sitting here thinking about what I'm going to say, the only thing I'm sure I want to write down is that this is going to be a weird review.

I just have no confidence in my ability to articulate these thoughts. And I'm not sure they're worth sharing.

The short version is that I've got a list of changes I would make, but I'm not gong to tell you what they are because the chapter works so well the way it is.

I'm sure that makes no sense.

When I reviewed the first chapter I wrote that you do a great job of getting to the point, which is something I suck at. I would flounder around these scenes for years, and it would take me three long chapters to make as much progress as you do in a short one.

There's a part of me that says this chapter feels rushed. I think some of the transitions are too abrupt, and should be jarring. When I really think about the flow, structure and pacing I think hey, you can't do it that way.

But you clearly can do it that way. I think it should be jarring, but it isn't. At all. I can't figure out why it works, but it works perfectly all the way through.

So while my critical eye compiles a list of things that should be done differently, my actual experience as a reader is absolutely perfect. I just exist in the scene, I can visualize everything around me, the characters all have unique voices and I've got feelings about them. I care, I'm asking questions and looking forward to finding answers.

I just have no idea how you did it. But the part of me that says "this isn't right" is clearly wrong.

Told you this would be a weird review. I'm still not sure if I'm making the right point.

I also can't see the purpose of what I've just written, as a review, because it's a whole lot of words that eventually get around to saying "This chapter is great."

But it's what I was thinking, so it's what I've written down.

[SweetNutmeg]

Thank you for reading so carefully. I'm not sure what I did that has made you feel this chapter is good, but I might have a little insight into your conflicting ideas. This is a novella. Novellas aren't long short stories, and they aren't short novels. They are their own beast. A very unmarketable beast, but oh well. I wasn't aiming for fame and glory anyway.

[Samuel Dickens]

This is a good, well-written chapter. The pawn shop amplifier is realistic. (I've got a nephew who wouldn't know what to do without pawn shops) Six foot four is really tall. Perhaps he played basketball at some point? Most cars use spin-on oil filters, but a few use cartridge-types, where the element is inserted into a housing, then tightened down with a central bolt. I think this sentence could be worded better--"Not that he will be able to practice much as his father is home way too much, now that he is back on unemployment."

[SweetNutmeg]

Thank you again for your careful reading and helpful comments. I am especially grateful for the oil change info. I swear, I researched changing oil before I wrote that! I researched again and came up with this:

He removes the oil filter, chucks it in the bin, grabs a new one from the box. He could talk to the guy. Just ask what the arrangements would be, look at the room. He smears a bit of oil on the filter gasket, slips it in place and screws it in until it seats properly. Giving it another three quarter turn, he decides he'll check it out.

Does that sound right?

[Samuel Dickens]

Yep, you got it!

[SweetNutmeg]

Thank you. I fixed the awkward sentence and replaced the oil change paragraph. You're such a big help!

[Wathanya.5KY3]

I hate repeating myself, but the first three paragraphs seem to have the same formatting problem it had the first time you posted this chapter. Also, the font and size are different from other chapters which makes me wonder if it was also a formatting problem.

[SweetNutmeg]

Duly noted and fixed. I have a damn stupid default format setting on my original docs, and I don't always get it fixed. Grr.

Thank you for pointing it out.

[Wathanya.5KY3]

It happens to all of us, unfortunately.

[Wathanya.5KY3]

Rewritten review: continued from "...poor Rogan."

I moved away from an abusive narcissistic roommate just a month ago and come from a culture where every single person in one's extended family is a matchmaker wannabe (I even have one aunt who does a kind of playing card fortune reading thingy and borderline stalks her nieces' and nephews' love lives through gossip! Thankfully she's sticking to her own children and grandchildren's lives for now), so I can definitely relate to Rogan in this chapter more than the last one.

I think this is another good chapter with a reliable narrator (despite the fact that the internet says present tense should be used when you want to write an unreliable narrator)! One thing I could add, or ask, though is about the second paragraph. The spaces after the sentences "...the smell of work" and "...into the bay" tells me that long paragraph might have been three separate paragraphs fused together by the lack of space between paragraphs (which has kind of been part of your writing voice, at least to me). Was it intentional?

Note: I wrote what I originally did but probably not word-for-word because I have the brain of a goldfish.

[SweetNutmeg]

Thank you so much for asking about those first three paragraphs. It was unintentional. They are supposed to be separate, but I've been having trouble with formatting. I'll go back and fix that.

That's interesting about unreliable narrators and present tense. I've never tried one myself, they seem far too complicated for my simple abilities. But boy do I love me a good unreliable narrator.

Thank you for such a careful reading and helpful response.

[Wathanya.5KY3]

Glad I could be of help!

If you want to try reading a book with an unreliable narrator, I recommend The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins. Seems like they made it into a movie as well, but to get the real unreliability of the characters I strongly recommend reading the book instead.

[Wathanya.5KY3]

Aw, my poor Rogan.

Note: for some reason it cut out 99% of my original review so I'm rewriting it.

[Samuel Dickens]

Maybe because I'm settling in with the characters, but I find this to be a very good chapter. The only critique I have are the triple stars between scenes. They do serve as dividers, but I think you could do without most of them. It's sad and unfortunate that Rogan has such an awful relationship with his father. Such things do occur, as we know.

[SweetNutmeg]

Thank you for reading and reviewing. I tried out leaving out the stars, and they are unnecessary. I'm sort of addicted to them, but it does flow differently, less jerky, without them. And I once had a professor tell me, If in doubt, leave it out. His advice has proved true time and again.

I just posted a new version, with some rather big changes in wording. Still the same events, but cleaned up and rearranged a bit. The only important thing to know for future reading is that his sister's name is now Lucy.

[Samuel Dickens]

That's a good, old-fashioned name. Pretty sure I've used it in some of my writing.

[Shep]

almost sounds like my first apartment with very little anything. However, my father was thrilled when I moved out the fact he told me never to come back and other words not pleasant to write home about. another awesome chapter.

[SweetNutmeg]

Thank you again for reading and reviewing. My first place was a studio, not much larger than Rogan's place, too. No bed frame, just a mattress on the floor, and a couch someone was giving away because it was stained.