So a while ago we recorded over an hour of Pokemon Yellow before we found out the game audio was much too loud to be watchable. Still I think this gives you a good look at what the series would have been. Plus its scary!

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I sat on the porch with a jug’a water to keep me cool as I waited for Uncle Carlson’s return. The sun was beaten down, so I grabbed one of them straw hats to keep the sun outa my face. The sun made me mighty tired, and I didn’t wake till they was back.

I heard someone talkin.

“You sure? She looks normal enough.”

“You’re right, this was a mistake, I’m sorry boys, bring news back to town for me.”

I heard of couple horses neigh, and I shook my head. I found the hat had sunken down and was covering my face. I pried it off to see what was going on.

Two men on horseback were sayin something to my Uncle, and started to trot off. One of um decided to look back at me.

“By all thats holy, Johnson look at that,” he said.

The second man, Johnson I presumed, turned around and nearly fell off his horse just by lookin at me. I looked at my Uncle who gave me a look of pity, and then turned away.

Johnson hollered, “Man, Carlson you weren’t lyin, thats one ugly sombitch.”

The fear of confusion over what was happening, turned to anger as I realized that Carlson was afraid of me. His own niece! And he’d brought some people from town to share his misgivings with. At least thats what I thought, up until the first man pulled out a rifle from his bag, and started to load it.

“I said this was a mistake Tom. I’m calling it off,” yelled my Uncle visibly disturbed by what was happening.

“Listen man, I aint lettin you get soft for her OK? The Devils seen her. Round here,” said Tom turning to Johnson, “we don’t find the Devil as one of our friends,” the man laughed and aimed his gun at me.

I’d closed my eyes and started to cry. Guns, worst thing in the world from what I could tell. Anybody could pull the trigger, and far as I could tell, they’d do it for any reason, any chance they got. Oddly in this moment I thought back to Rolph back on the train. He’d not shot anything, seemed he knew what a gun was for.

Bang. A gunshot in the air, and a scream. Though to my surprise it was not my own.

I opened my eyes and began to sob openly. Through my tears I saw the man called Tom, had fallen off his horse, and that Johnson was kickin his horse, just as hard as he could trying to flee. I fell off the bench I’d been on, and curled up into a ball, mixing my tears with the dirty floor of the porch.

A long time later I heard, “Get up.” It was Rolph’s voice so I did. I got up.

I wiped my eyes, and nose, though it didn’t do much but smear everything around.

Rolph held Carlson by the collar, with a long hunting knife in the other hand. He threw Carlson, who I couldn’t bring myself to think of him as family now, onto the bench.

“The hell did I just see? You bring people here to hurt Anne?” yelled Rolph, who I now noticed had procured a gash the size of Texas on his forehead that oozed a mighty Rio Grande of puss.

“I just,” he paused, perhaps realizing his mistakes, “the people in town told me of a devil child. They said the town is cursed till she’s dead. I, I didn’t think she was it, but a few men offered to come look…” he trailed off.

I couldn’t follow the conversation. I was still reeling from learning that my own Uncle had tried to kill me.

“Oh, she’s been marked by the Devil alright, but she’s aint the one that I just saw to apply cold murder to a child,” Rolph said disgustedly. He bent down and picked me up, taking me to the bed, and laid me down.

“Don’t hurt him OK,” I whispered to Rolph as he set me down.

He looked into my eyes, then nodded. Rolph spent the next half-hour looking the scar on my face. He brought in Carlson for assistance occasionally. He asked me what had happened like he already knew. I told him all the same though.

“Things are progressing fast. Though truth be told, you’re showing signs of resistance uncommon in folks who been attacked twice, still you won’t be able to fight it much longer.”

“You can’t stay here,” said Carlson. “Johnson will bring back more people, maybe even get the army involved once he tells what’s happened.”

“Then you can’t stay either, unfortunately. What the hell are you good at besides plotting murder, might as well get some use out of ya,” said Rolph, grinning.

“I have been practicing my cartography skills.”

“Wonderful,” said Rolph, “Can’t wait to see those come in handy.”

In two hours we were gone. I rode with Rolph, and Carlson rode in front of us. We were headed to the Great Salt Lake.

According to Rolph, he’d been researching a cure to the mark of the shadow. He thought we were on the right trail. He told me that a map to whatever the cure was, was sunken in the Great Salt Lake around when the City was founded. All we had to do was dive to the bottom of a the biggest lake in the west, and bring this map back up.

We kept out of the city, and we made sure to keep out of the way of the Army’s camp. We set up camp shoreside, and sent Carlson into the city to buy a boat. Carlson never made it to the city.

He showed up about a half an hour after he left, with nothing to show.

“The city’s closed,” he said crashing down on the ground exhausted.

“The city can’t just be closed,” I said. “Right?”

“The army’s not lettin anyone in or out…somethings going on in there,” explained Carlson.

I shifted uneasily, not liking where I knew this was headed.

“Guess this means its time to visit the Union’s boys,” Rolph said. “Carlson…watch the lake, I guess. Anne, it’s time we put on our best bib and tucker, you’re not leaving my sight, and my sights are set on whoever’s commanding this bunch of coffee boilers of ‘soldiers’.”

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Teleporting was all the rage in the 90′s

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When I woke I felt the comforts of a nice bed, sheets and a decent enough pillow under my head. Despite my confusion I laid in bed an hour or so, not asleep, just to enjoy the sensation once again. I’d been in my own bed less than a week ago. Why did it feel like so much longer?

The room I was in looked new. It was a small room, with wooden walls and not much else. Nice and plain. If I turned my head a bit, I could see that the on the right side of the bed there stood a small table, about bed height. It held a extinguished candle, still smoking. There were no windows in the room, giving me no indication if it was night or day.

Just bout the time I’d decided to give in, and get out of bed, a man walked in. He was stocky, had a receding hairline and dressed like everyone else on the frontier: rough. In his hands he carried a wooden tray, upon which stood a cup of tea, a slab of cheese and a quarter loaf of bread. Looked to be just out of the oven from the steam steadily rising from it.

The man had a warm smile, and his eyes reminded me of someone, though I couldn’t quite place it. He allowed me to squirm my way upright then placed the tray on my lap.

He stood over me uneasy like as he talked, “Miss Louise, I’m your Uncle Carlson. A man dropped you off here a few days ago, saying you were sick. I felt obliged to believe him since you looked like you’d been round to see the devil,” he checked my face once over with his eyes before returning them to his hands. I began eating, for the sight of food had raised in me an insatiable hunger. The cheese was soft, and delicious, the bread warm and hearty.

“But you slept through the last few days and here you are…” he looked up again worriedly. “New as the sun in the morning.”

I looked up at my Uncle, he looked frightened. Rolph probably told him naught but lies. “Did the man that brought me here say anything else?” I asked though I knew chances were slim.

“Just to keep a close watch on ya. Tell me Anne, how’d you get mixed up with a ruffian like him?”

“I don’t know Uncle. Truly I don’t.”

My uncle told me he was going in to town, and insisted on my staying back at his place. I didn’t want to be left alone, but he wouldn’t have me. Said I was still regaining his strength, but if I knew any better I’d say there was some other reason he didn’t want me comin with. I decided to take the opportunity to look around his place. What I was looking for, who could say.

His house was small. He had a kitchen, two rooms including the one I’d slept in, and a storage room outside the house bout a skip and a jump away. Looks like I’d been sleepin in his only bed. Hadn’t he been expectin me? Maybe he just couldn’t afford two. The other room served as a sort of mishmash room of tools, a few books, a pile of blankets where he slept and a writing desk. I wondered how Uncle had learned to write, daddy said neither of um went to school.

In the kitchen I found the rest of the loaf of bread I’d been eating, which I finished off, and a crude stove. Nothing like we had back east.

He had a porch too. Sat slightly above the ground, and lead its way down to the fields of wheat that was growing all through my uncle’s land. I cut through the crop, and made my way to the shed.

Inside the shed it was dark, with the only light coming from the door behind me. Tools hung from the low, maybe 5 foot ceiling. The shed was long, maybe 40 feet. I found bags, and bags of wheat from previous harvests. Empty bags, full bags. Rat infested bags. I also found a gun, mounted on the wall in the back. A large rifle. Looked old, like one of them ones that had to be reloaded after each shot with a stick. Same kind Daddy had back home. Not that he ever used it. Daddy’d said he never wanted to use it… now he’s in the war. He don’t have to use it, for the guns he’ll be using are much more terrible.

It was dark at the end of the shed. My vision flickered and contorted. I stumbled trying to regain my balance. What light I could still see magnified, and it burned me. I could feel my face burning like the night the shadows came, but this was different.

It was me.

I could feel it, something inside of me screamed to get out. And I wanted to help it get there. Trouble was I didn’t know how. The world seemed to get brighter and brighter, everything moved at a faster pace. I heard a pop, something was coming out. Bursting its way through my face, and thats when I knew it wasn’t trying to get out. It wanted to stay in. It was trying to push me out. I crawled on my hands and knees towards the opening of the shed. The light became almost unbearable. Closing my eyes, I could still see, nothing stopped it. Flesh, burning away. Why was I always alone. Where was Daddy when I needed him most.

Not here, I thought as I dragged myself into the sun’s light outside. I’d succeeded. I’d beat the darkness inside of me this time. I could feel it receding, it couldn’t finish me out here. But I wasn’t so sure I could fight it again. I had wanted it to win, even if just for a moment. And that scared me.

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The Deets:

Hear and see the ukulele:

Sound (5)

The ukulele sounds like sex. It is just SO BEAUTIFUL! Of course, it is sorta a niche sound, being that a lot of ukulele players try to get their ukulele to sound like a guitar (we call those people fakers), but it is still great. The two main tonewoods used for ukuleles are Koa and Mahogany, and they have a bright sound and a warm sound respectively. I am not a huge fan of the bright sounding ukuleles, so with soprano size, mahogany body, and black nylon strings, this thing is warmer than the sun.

Looks (3)

This is the one part of the ukulele I am not in love with. From every single picture I saw, the body looked to be satin and light, but mine was a glossy dark wood. It has a very nice paint job on the side, with little to no flaws, but the circle around the front is too thin to be seen from a distance, so from afar the ukulele can look a bit cheap. However, it really shines on the neck. The way the wood was cut it has an almost striped zebra type look to it that makes it unique and beautiful.

Playability (4)

In most aspects, playing this thing is terrific. The first good point is it’s intonation. It is amazing. When it is in tune, not a single note is off. However, getting it in tune can be a bit difficult. It has friction tuners, so whenever you turn the tuner it changes the pitch quite a bit. However, once you get it in tune it stays there for a while, which is a fair tradeoff. I have only tuned mine 3 times since I got it with brand new strings 6 hours ago. The most faulty part for me was the action, because I was under the impression it was going to be very very low. It only affects the playability a little, but I wish it could have been lower.

In Conclusion

This is a real buy. It costs an affordable 250$ (Especially for a hand made) and has an amazing sound. If you like soprano ukuleles (which you should) this is the one for you. It is especially good for people who want a soprano but have big hands, because the fret board is especially wide. So yes, very good, very fun, BUY IT OR I HATE YOU. 

LOOKS:3/5

SOUND:5/5

PLAYABILITY:4/5

OVERALL: 12/15

That is a B! That is good!

Mele Ukulele Website

Mele Soprano Mahogany Ukulele

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I spent that mornin playing with village boys and girls. They liked to tell stories of great creatures, and times of old. I didn’t quite see eye to eye with them. While they sat in the mud, I stood. Didn’t want my clothes to get any more dirty than they were, for these were the only ones I had with me. We’d stashed our excess clothes back in town, where Rolph said they would not be seen.

Truth be told I couldn’t focus on the stories these indians were tellin. I was thinkin of Rolph. What was he talking to these people about? Why were they here, when he said the killer was back in town? Didn’t make sense to me, yet perhaps that was just the way of things as a grown up. Maybe growin up is just exceptin the world doesn’t make sense. I’m not sure I was ready for that yet.

Rolph came stridin out of the center tent, grabbing his pack from the dirt. He swung it round his shoulder and told me we was leavin. I couldn’t be more glad. I asked him what had happened, but he didn’t seem in the mood to talk.

We saddled up, and rode out without a word of farewell. Bout a mile away I decided to test my luck again.

“What happened sir?”

“The Goshute have decided not to help us.” The Goshute was the indian tribe of the land.

“And why’s that?”

“I wouldn’t help them.”

“And why-“ he cut me off.

“Enough questions, we need to find someone we can trust. You know anywhere we can go thats safe in these god forsaken lands?”

“Like I said on the train, I was going to my Uncle’s place, he owns a farmstead not too far from the city. I was plannin on taking a buggy.” I said trying to be helpful.

I didn’t think he’d actually want to go there. But we did.

That night at the campfire he told me more. Rolph was always more likely to talk by the campfire it seemed. It was his element and he thrived in it.

“Their being forced from their lands,” Rolph said, speaking of the Goshute, “and they wanted my help, but we don’t have time for that. Besides even if I wanted to help them it wouldn’t do any good.” He gave me a look. “You can’t stop the river from flowing.”

I nodded, finished my beans, same as the night before and fell asleep.

I dreamt of the train. Only it was different. The shadow reached out to me, and I took its, hand? tendril? Whatever it was I took it, and we went sailing out across the plains. I saw hundreds of furry carcasses I’d seen shot littering the plains. I saw men fighting; I was flying. Daddy was there, shooting an indian. There were dead bodies all around him. He hid behind them, and then the shadow brought me closer to him as if sensing my want, or rather my need for him.

It was too late, when I realized what was happening. I reached out my hand, but it wasn’t my hand anymore. It was an amorphous shape reaching for him, and he didn’t, or couldn’t fight it. His face burned under my touch and he screamed.

I didn’t feel remorse, or sorrow. I felt happy. We could be together again. But I held onto him too long and the light burnt out of his eyes. His face contorted, and his neck snapped, making his body crumple into a lump. He rose spinning before my horrified eyes. The sky opened into a void.

And I woke.

Rolph was standing over me with a furrowed brow. His brown eyes pierced mine and I looked away.

“What did you see?” he demanded.

I couldn’t face him. The welt on my face burned, and I tried to pick at it, simultaneously covering my face with my hands.

“What did you see!” he yelled, ripping my hands away from my face. I screamed and ran, causing the horse to panic, awakening from its slumber.

“Ann!”

All the blood rushed to my face, and I ran as hard as I could. Then I tripped. I remembered I was in the middle of nowhere, with nothing. Silence… no, not silence. More like the sound when you put a cup over your ear. A dull sound, slowly undulating, growing quicker into a tempo.

I picked myself up, and grabbed for my necklace. Where was my necklace? It must have dropped when I tripped. Frantically I dropped to the ground searching as the sound grew louder, quicker. This was another dream I thought, thats all it was. A chill wind crept into my heart, causing my heart to work double time. I could hear it in my head, drowning out the sound, or maybe it was the sound all along. It was hard to tell.

The moon, my one source of light fell to darkness. I felt pure dread, allowing myself to push myself against the ground without a second thought. Nothing but a will to survive was left in me. My face burned hotter, I could feel my welt moving, boiling perhaps, and pouring ooze down my face.

This was not how it would end I thought. And it didn’t. Rolph came, from the shadows himself leaping forward and throwing his dust into the air all around. He was murmuring something under his breath, not loud enough to be audible. He threw a cloak on me, and wrapped me up.

“I am sorry,” he said as he swung a rock at my head.

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We spend a lot of time pleasing monkeys.