Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Journal Entry #4: Train Station

Well, it looks like your humble narrator has gone and landed himself a decent promotion at work! I've been in the thick of things with moving office and all the training that goes with a new position. I'm really happy about it, I'd been stuck as a payroll clerk for five years already and being a manager is more my cup of tea.

I have a problem with authority.

So, last night I decided to try the next journal entry and see where this magical little tour might take me next.

Entry #4 is a little longer; Grandpa goes into some unsettling details about Green Wake, which is becoming a reoccurring theme it seems. The weird'o'meter is slowly climbing to new levels.

I've waited a few days to journal any further. The reality is, I'm stuck here with no clue how to return home. I've been trying to come to grips with this, wrestling between not understanding how it's possible and why I'm even here. 

Today I had to leave my home, I'd locked myself inside since I left the farm. I've noticed, curiously, that most of the residents in Green Wake do the same. Except the others never really leave. I've only seen five people so far, so my task was to locate other people and get some answers.

This has been the strangest day so far.

I sought a public place, where people would be commonly gathered. At times, I swore I heard a train pass through town, with an old bellowing steam whistle accompanying the deep rumble of tracks. I sought out any sign of a station and after some serious searching, I found it.

It was empty. In the quiet, sitting on a bench on the platform, I waited hours. Sure enough, a train approached. It, too, was empty, save for a little girl who wore a blue ribbon in her hair. She watched me, intently, as the train arrived, waited and then departed again moments later. We shared a moment, two lost strangers in a strange world.

The train arrived again, not long later.

She was still there.

I cannot get on the train. I want to talk with this silent girl, but it simply isn't possible.

It was not long after that I met someone new. 


I've already read the next journal entry, there was no way I could put it down after the creepy feel of this update and the possibility of Grandpa meeting another person in Green Wake. I'm starting to think this entire journal was Grandpa Mack's way of expressing his imagination.

I asked Mom if he was a storyteller or had any other writing that she could remember, and her answer was a resounding 'no'. It's becoming obvious that Morley was a creative man, with a flair for the bizarre. Almost like he and H.P. Lovecraft were on the same wavelength. There's a definitely underlying feeling of dread throughout the journals that seem to magnify with each entry.

Krieger is what made me realize it's a machination of Morley's mind.  I'll post the next one up in the next few days. The only problem I'm having is that, I think I've found a photo of Krieger, and it is.... strange. I think it might be a development mistake, given how old the photos are, so maybe some of you photography experts out there could give me some feedback.

Stay tuned!

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Journal Entry #3: And things get stranger

Grandpa's journal is somewhat an interesting experience. Every time I read a passage, I want to immediately go forward and read the next, but I'm trying to be patient and take it one quote at a time so I can really absorb and journal the experience properly.

So, here we are at his third entry and I think I've answered my own question from the last blog post.

Except, it seriously doesn't make any damn sense.

I'm going to start with the picture I believe is associated with the entry.

I've settled comfortably into what I'm going to call my temporary home. No one has caused a fuss, and I've been here for a few days now. Last night, (night being indistinguishable from day, as previously noted) I decided to really take in the sights, get a feel for this strange old town. I walked for about an hour, the paths and cobbled roads winding this way and that. Nearly impossible to get your bearings. 

Eventually, I came to what I assumed to be the edge of town. The tightly packed rows of zig-zap homes faded away and opened to a field, on the horizon a few husks of what I thought to be a farm perhaps. I continued and managed a photograph upon closer inspection. 

It's Doug and Ellie's farm. I swear it, by every holy word ever uttered, it is the farm, burned to the ground. The layout is exactly as I remember. How long ago was it that we were there, Anna? 

I tried to go further, but on the horizon was Green Wake. I suspected with no sun to guide me I was unable to orientate myself properly. I doubled back and continued that direction.

Green Wake was on the horizon.

I'm losing my mind.

I honestly have nothing to say at this point. I really don't know how to evaluate this kind of entry with any sort of rational explanation. I called mom about an hour after pouring over the photos, and running this note through my mind. It seriously gave me chills.

Mom had no explanation, either, of course. She had mentioned that Grandpa used to have these sort of spells when she was quite young where he'd become disoriented and talk about people she'd never heard of. She remembers one name in particular: Krieger.

She always thought that her father suffered from dementia, even from a young age. I suppose the proof is in the pudding.

Trying to end things on a happier note, Elise decided to give things another go with me. Amazing what a diamond ring can do, eh?

Guess I'm engaged to be married. Love you, baby! (like she reads this)

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Journal Entry #2

Holiday season is always a mess, so I apologize for the delay in getting updates on here more frequently. Over Christmas, my girlfriend had a bit of a freak on out me, and we temporarily broke up because we've been together four years and I haven't proposed or offered for her to move in.

Anyway, irrelevant information, but at least you know WHY I haven't been on here for almost a month.

Damage Control.

So, I picked up where I left off with the journal last night, and the second entry isn't as interesting as the first, but still is strange. I'll post my thoughts after the entry.

Again, no date.

I can't tell how long I've been here, hours are difficult to count without any reference. I don't think the sun ever cracks through those clouds, or if it's just evening and the hours pass by slowly. It rains a lot, but there's never thunder. Never lightning. It just rains. Dark and dreary. In some ways, it takes me back to that night. Everything about it feels the same.

Today I was unable to meet anyone. I was ignored by anyone I approached, so I explored. Not long before the rain fell so heavy, I was shivering in my bones and needed shelter. I came across this old building, door unlocked. An old multi-room, multi-story house. Inside, I found a room and warmed up. I'm still here, writing this now. I can see the rain clearing, there's a balcony outside the room.

It's always quiet. 

Again, I went through grandpa's photos and found something that he may be talking about. Took three scans to get this one to work, but finally got a clear one. Check it out.

What I'm not understanding is why Grandpa Mack has no idea where he is at this point. Maybe he'll talk about it later, but I've never been in a situation where I have no clue at all where I am. I've woke up a house with no clue how I got there before, but I at least knew, generally, where on a map I was.

I suppose this was before Google maps.

Alright, hopefully it's not another month before the next update. Until then, wish me luck with relationship woes!

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Journal Entry #1

Alright, this post is slightly delayed as I ended up having to work a bunch of overtime over the weekend. I didn't have enough time to properly commit to the journal, but I spent most of last night and some of this morning with the first entry. So, let's get started.

A quick note; none of the journal entries are dated. They just go right into his thoughts and are separated only the context of what's written, not by any other means that I can see. Breaking down the journal might a little difficult, but I'll do my best.

The inside cover has one thing written on it. It's a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson: "Fate is nothing but the deeds committed in a prior state of existence."

I didn't know much about Grandpa Mack, but I called my mom last night to see if she could offer some insight. She didn't have much to add, but she said that he often talked about fate and free will a lot when she was younger.

"The river is a place I often find myself. It's quiet, but it seems like a thousand thoughts fill my head and I can hear the voices of everyone around me. Even in this place that is filled with residents, it's a ghost town. Green Wake is still a mystery, the people want desperately to be left alone, but I can see it in their eyes that they want to be connected with others. Still, no one leaves their homes.

I've yet to actually speak with anyone, though I've passed people here and there in the street. I'm curious how they, like me, ended up in this strange situation. Tomorrow I plan to introduce myself to someone, and I hope there is conversation to be had. 

I can't stop thinking about you, Anna."

And that is the first page. I looked through his photos and found this. It could be the river he was talking about, but there is no way to be sure. There are no notes or annotations on any of his pictures.

I spoke to my mom again about Anna, and the name meant nothing to her. Could this have been a life before he met my grandmother?

I hope to update with page 2 by tomorrow, and since I got my scanner working (thanks Applecare) I can post a few more photos, too.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

My Grandfather's Secrets

My grandfather, Morley Mack, passed away on June 7th, 2008. I was at the funeral because my mom insisted that it would be a good way to get to know the man he was. I wasn't really sure what she meant by that, I'd only met him a few times growing up. I think he'd had a strained relationship with my mom and they never really made amends.

The funeral was small. If I remember correctly, there was the two of us, and maybe seven other people. All of them as old as grandpa would've been. Mom introduced me to everyone, but honestly, I don't recall any of their names. The only reason I'm even reflecting on that day, and blogging about it, is because today was a very strange day for me.

Because Grandpa Mack had never made a will, his property was tied up by the government until mom could get all the proper documentation to prove she was his last living relative. We'd been able to go through his house not long after the funeral to make a list of everything he had, but beyond that his belongings weren't accessible to us.

Well, this morning, lo and behold, the clearance letter from the government came through and mom is officially the sole inheritor of Grandpa Mack's estate. A tidy one bedroom home in a dangerous neighborhood and a vast collection of useless junk.

Or so I thought.

When we originally went through the house after the funeral, we never noticed that there was a small crawlspace above Grandpa's bed. That's where this story gets weird.

In it we found one thing: a shoebox. A shoebox full of photos and a thick journal of Grandpa Mack's notes from his younger days. He even labeled it.

Green Wake.

Simple black cover, with the title and an image I tried to copy that is posted at the top of the blog (the frog thingee). I'm a decent illustrator, I think my rendition of it is pretty cool.

There was also a spool of what looks like film, and I've googled around and found it's an audio recording done on an old Magnetophon.

Anyway, this blog is going to be following my thoughts and reactions to Grandpa Mack's journal and photos. I've skimmed it already, and there are some passages that are really strange. I think I'm finally beginning to understand why I saw so little of the man growing up.

I'm going to read over the first page of the journal in full tonight and post my thoughts tomorrow. I'll see if I can scan in a photo or two, I wouldn't count on it. My scanner doesn't work with my Mac for some reason.

Stay tuned!