Each Tuesday, rather than a POSSIBLY
IRRITATING ESSAY, I'd like to both challenge you and lend a helping hand. I
generate more speculative and teen story ideas than I can ever use. My family
rolls its collective eyes when I say, "Hang on a second! I just have to
write down this idea..." Here, I'll include the initial inspiration
(quote, website, podcast, etc.) and then a thought or two that came to mind.
These will simply be seeds -- plant, nurture, fertilize, chemically treat,
irradiate, test or stress them as you see fit. I only ask if you let me know if
anything comes of them.
H Trope: forbidden
rooms
Current Event: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/McMartin_preschool_trial
and http://www.ipt-forensics.com/journal/volume7/j7_2_1_33.htm
and http://www.sacbee.com/2011/07/21/3783838/mcmartin-preschool-fiasco-led.html
Thirty years after
the infamous McMartin Preschool Incident, Tayna Hopewell’s parents buy the land
the day care once stood on to build a golf equipment shop. Everything is past
and even though she finds out about the lot’s history through a Google search,
she doesn’t say anything.
They aren’t
opening a day care!
Tanya who lives in
Alondra and takes classes as a high school senior at El Camino College wants to
be a forensic scientist after she graduates. Her parents are “golf semi-pros”
and while she supports them now that she’s “grown up”, she loathes the sport
and avoids it at every chance.
On the eve of a
big semi-pro tourney at the nearby Alondra Golf Course, and shortly after the
excavation began, Tanya NEEDS to escape her parents! They’re driving her CRAZY!
She lights off
along Manhattan Beach Boulevard, jogging toward the beach and some much-needed
alone time. When she reaches the excavation site, she sees that the gate is
still standing open and she figures her parents own the land, so she has every
right to check things out.
A warm breeze is
wafting off shore a mile or so away and even though the sun is sinking toward
the horizon, she’s comfortable poking around the site.
It’s not particularly
interesting until she gets to the back of the lot. It’s been built over more
than once – before the infamous daycare (demolished in 1985) it was a housing
development, since then The Strand Cleaners which went out of business. Now her
parents are building a two-story building; the ground floor will house
Hopewell’s Pro Golf; the upper story was unrented yet, but there were plenty of
people interested.
At the back of the
property, Tanya nearly pitches into a narrow hole in the ground that runs under
the fence to the property behind their land. As well, there’s evidence of the
trenches running toward Manhattan Boulevard. Scowling, she looked into the
hole, though she can’t see a thing. She takes out her cell, flips it to
“flashlight mode” and aims it into the hole.
She still can’t
see much more than the far side of it. Muttering, she unrolls her towel, lays
it on the ground and lays down, scooting to the edge so she can see over it
clearly.
The flicks on the
flashlight, holding it ahead of her and pointing down and looks carefully.
At the bottom of
the trench, at the edge of the cell phone’s light reach, she clearly sees a
pile of bones.
Heart pounding,
she remembers that there was a buried trash heap under the property that they’d
found evidence of even during the trial in the olden days. It’s probably just
animal bones.
That’s when she
sees it. To one side, barely visible now, staring at her without eyes, is a
small skull.
A small HUMAN
skull…
No comments:
Post a Comment