# The Juice



## aj47 (Oct 28, 2011)

My head _hurt_. Worse than my hand did when I was hit by that pitch last September and had to have surgery. I opened my eyes, then closed them again. The light made it worse. Like most ballplayers, I'd been hungover before. Not like this. My mouth felt like I'd eaten the lint from all the dryers at a laundromat. Where was I anyway? I took a deep breath to steady myself and tried to remember. Something smelled like cat piss. I don't have a cat.

Somewhere up and to my left, a voice asked,. “Rett? You awake?”

It was Bill Jessup, one of our catchers and the guy who had the Super Bowl party. Memory flooded back.

“Rett?” Bill asked again, a little louder. 

I grunted and rolled over. It felt like I was on a bed.

“Here, drink this, it'll help.” 

I had to sit up if I was going to drink. I hadn't realized how weak I was—it took me two tries. I opened my eyelids a crack to see him standing there with a glass of something red. I didn't believe in "hair of the dog" but right then I'd go for anything wet.

I took the glass,, being careful not to spill any. A small sip didn't detect any vodka but maybe my mouth was too cottony to notice. “Do you have any aspirin?” I asked him in something like a croak..

He handed me a small bottle and I took four, washing them down with the juice. 

“I feel like shit,” I told him as I returned the bottle. I wondered what I drank last night that messed me over so bad, “What the hell was I drinking? Why didn't you call me a cab?”

“Because I wanted to keep an eye on you. And because we need to talk,” he said.

Why had he gone all serious on me? Had I done something stupid while I was drunk last night? I downed the rest of the juice and waited for the bad news.

He cleared his throat. “Remember when you asked me how I was so good if I didn't juice?” 

I nodded. 

"It's who I am, not what I take. My muscles are stronger, my eyes are keener, and my reflexes are quicker. However, I don't just wear sunglasses because they look cool. Bright light hurts my eyes.”

"You wanted my secret," he continued, "Well, I decided to give it to you.” 

The aspirin must have kicked in. Or maybe it was the tone in his voice that cleared the fog from my head.

“Look at me,” Bill said. “I wasn't born this way.. Most people aren't born to be All-Stars.

"Nor am I the only one," he continued. "Across time there have always been a few men who were almost superhuman in their abilities. Babe Ruth was the first in baseball."

I thought about it. Babe Ruth was a great pitcher. He helped pitch his team to three World Series titles. Then they moved him to the outfield so he would play every day. And he racked up the numbers, despite his unhealthy lifestyle.

"But there have been others, not nearly as great." He looked at me. "I'm the best on the team and one of the best in the league. But I won't be another Babe Ruth..'

“You juice,” I said, not a question. 

"No,” he paused. “I'm infected with a virus.” 

I looked at him. Really looked. The omnipresent sunglasses hid his eyes and his thoughts. 

“I have a disease. Although usually the word is used to describe something bad, this actually makes me a better athlete."

"Whatever I eat pretty much passes through me, though I'm able to absorb the water and alcohol from liquids. And I've developed an allergy to my favorite Italian herb. But the main difference in my diet is that I now must consume blood. Like the glass I gave you."

"The common belief is that my kind either don't exist or are destroyed by sunlight. I'm here and you've played day games with me. But I should really say 'our' kind."

My mind spun. “Our kind?”

“Vampires.”


----------



## Robdemanc (Oct 28, 2011)

Yeah I have issues with your dialogue.  The character Bill is talking too much about himself.  It sounds like he is talking to the reader instead of the other character.  

Imagine reading a book and character A sits down with character B and says:

"Hey, we've known each other a long time, you were my best man, we both worked at that multinational corp for six years together, we both have brown hair, we both drink budweiser....."

What would you think?

Unless your point is to make Bill come across as a complete ass who is obsessed with himself then find a different way to let the reader know he has muscles and is great athlete.

If they are vampires then they would not tell eachother this.  It would be like me going up to my sister and telling her she is my sister.


----------



## egpenny (Oct 29, 2011)

How can Rett be a vampire and not know it?  I agree with Robdemanc on the dialogue, needs to be some interaction going on to carry all that info.  
Love the concept though.  The first part of the piece with the descriptions is good.  Loved the lint from all the dryers in the laundrimat bit, made me grin.


----------



## Robdemanc (Oct 30, 2011)

Question:  In this passage is Bill telling Rett that he has just turned him/her into a vampire?  By giving the blood as hair of the dog?


----------



## Deyo (Oct 30, 2011)

I enjoyed this small excerpt from some sort of larger story.  all star vampires, Interesting idea.  You could do a lot with that kind of twist, Will definitely read if you post more of it.


----------



## Brock (Nov 1, 2011)

This instantly reminded me of the vampires playing baseball in _Twilight, _once I realized this was about vampires, which was not until the fourth sentence from the end.  Yes, I was a little slow to catch on, but this is what I liked about it.


----------



## L Marrick (Nov 6, 2011)

I really enjoyed this. I agree that the dialogue needs to be a little less one-way, but it didn't turn me off just as you have it. It did seem Bill was a little unconcerned about Rett. I'd like a little more setting--I kept picturing Rett lying unconscious on a baseball field for some reason, even though you mentioned he felt like he was on a bed. I LOVED the "allergy to my favorite Italian herb" bit. Priceless. I wasn't confused about why he'd say "our kind," and I didn't think that Rett was a vampire--at least, not before he drank the juice. I'm interested as to why Bill would infect his friend. I'd definitely read more!


----------



## aj47 (Nov 6, 2011)

Robdemanc said:


> If they are vampires then they would not tell eachother this.  It would be like me going up to my sister and telling her she is my sister.



Not only does my dialog suck, but so does my storytelling in general.......Rett doesn't know he's a vampire until the end of this vignette.  Bill infected him.


----------



## aj47 (Nov 6, 2011)

egpenny said:


> How can Rett be a vampire and not know it?



He didn't even know Bill was one....Bill infected him -- the weakness he feels is the fact that he needs blood and he doesn't know it.  That's the point of the whole thing.  Dayum, but I need more help than I thought.


----------



## aj47 (Nov 6, 2011)

Robdemanc said:


> Question:  In this passage is Bill telling Rett that he has just turned him/her into a vampire?  By giving the blood as hair of the dog?



Close.  

Bill infects Rett .... Rett wakes up and feels like doo-doo--weak, sensitive to light and so thirsty he cannot believe it ... BIll revives Rett with blood and tells him, Hey, dude, the reason I'm such a good ballplayer is I'm a vampire and now you are, too.


----------



## aj47 (Nov 6, 2011)

Brock said:


> This instantly reminded me of the vampires playing baseball in _Twilight, _once I realized this was about vampires, which was not until the fourth sentence from the end.  Yes, I was a little slow to catch on, but this is what I liked about it.



Well, I've never read/seen Twilight.  I just thought that what if...   What if it wasn't steroids that made some guys better, but.... blood.  The feeling is supposed to be a modern-esque Mark Harris-type thing.


----------



## aj47 (Nov 6, 2011)

L Marrick said:


> I really enjoyed this. I agree that the dialogue needs to be a little less one-way, but it didn't turn me off just as you have it. It did seem Bill was a little unconcerned about Rett. I'd like a little more setting--I kept picturing Rett lying unconscious on a baseball field for some reason, even though you mentioned he felt like he was on a bed. I LOVED the "allergy to my favorite Italian herb" bit. Priceless. I wasn't confused about why he'd say "our kind," and I didn't think that Rett was a vampire--at least, not before he drank the juice. I'm interested as to why Bill would infect his friend. I'd definitely read more!



Hi, welcome to WF!  Thank you for your kind words.   

I've  revised and revised it so maybe i lost something if you don't know.    Rett wants to be as good as Bill.  And Rett always secretly thought Bill  was a hypocrite who juiced on steroids.  But no--Bill has a bigger  secret and the only way he could be safe telling Rett would be to infect  him, too.  But Rett had No Idea At All that Bill was a vampire and that  *that* was why he was so doggone good.  

That said, any help anyone (you included) can give me to put across the ideas I'm trying to -- the story I want to tell about Rett -- would be greatly appreciated.


----------



## egpenny (Nov 12, 2011)

Maybe if Rett had a flashback or a memory something strange from the conversion time,(a memory of a pain in his neck or something weird happening.)
 A description of how the juice tastes, (tangy, with a sort of coppery aftertaste) would be good too. 
If Rett asked some questions as Bill goes along it would perhaps improve the dialogue thing and why Rett didn't know until the end...have him get an inkling along the way that he wasn't in Kansas anymore. 
As his head clears have him experience the muscles and bodily changes and notice the pulse in Bills neck...you know vampire stuff. 
Hints only, cause I love the last line. Just saying...


----------



## aj47 (Nov 12, 2011)

I tried to convey the head-clearing and stuff but maybe I need better word choices.


----------



## seyelint (Nov 12, 2011)

An interesting story. There are a few things you can tighten. You dialogue tags are used only for dialogue when they should work more for your story.  (he said) and such, is great if you need to show possession of the words, but unless there is confusion, 'he said' is not needed, or at least if you wish to put a tag, use one that will move the story forward, draw in the scene. A bit like 'Who are you waiting for?' he asked  - 'he asked is known by the question mark, so it becomes redundant or at least gives no real reason for being used.

You also use simile phrasing a bit much.  'like/almost' etc  - state what is there, dont' be shy to let the readers intelligence work. They know what is real and what is just a metaphor/simile without pointing.

Watch for repetitive wording. use your 'find/search' and see if there are words which you use too often. Replace them with stronger words, make note of those words and make yourself be aware and so when you write again, you will consciously change them to improve your writing.

I liked this piece.  The self-dialogue at the beginning could be tighter also, not a lot of work to do, but to polish there is some.

S


----------



## River (Nov 16, 2011)

Good hook, good dialogue, I look forward to reading more of your stuff. Good story development.


----------



## aj47 (Dec 26, 2011)

_I was told to post my revision at the end of the thread.
__
_ My head _hurt_. Worse than my hand did when I was hit by that pitch last September and had to have surgery. I opened my eyes, then closed them again. The light made it worse. Like most ballplayers, I'd been hungover before. Not like this. My mouth felt like I'd eaten the lint from all the dryers at a laundromat. Where was I anyway? I took a deep breath to steady myself and tried to remember. Something smelled like cat piss. I don't have a cat.

Somewhere up and to my left, a voice asked,. “Rett? You awake?”

It was Bill, one of our catchers and the guy who had the New Year's  party. Memory began to trickle back.

“Rett?” Bill asked again, a little louder. 

I grunted.

“Here, drink this, it'll help.” 

I had to sit up if I was going to drink. I hadn't realized how weak I was—it took me two tries. I opened my eyelids a crack to see him standing there with a glass of something red and a bottle that, if I were lucky, would be aspirin. I didn't believe in "hair of the dog" but right then I'd go for anything wet.

I took the glass, being careful not to spill any. A small sip didn't detect any vodka but maybe my mouth was too cottony to notice.  “Aspirin?” I croaked.

He poured a few tablets into his hand then into my outstretched palm.  I washed them down with the juice.   


“I feel like shit.  What the hell was I drinking? Why didn't you call me a cab?”

“Because I wanted to keep an eye on you. And because we need to talk,” he said.

What had I done while I was drunk last night?  I downed the rest of the juice and waited for the bad news.  He must have seen something on my face because he said, “No, you're not in trouble, not exactly.”


I thought about what kinds of things could turn Bill serious.  Gameplay was one, but at a party?  There's a classic rock song about someone who goes to a party and acts the big shot only to forget what they said.  Was that me?   


 “Whatever it was--however I ruined your party--I'm sorry.”   



I don't know if I looked as dejected as I felt but Bill was quick to correct me.  “No, it was after the party.   You kept asking me for my secret.  Well, I gave it to you.”



Bill Jessup. I think he had won every non-pitching award at some time. And I don't remember what he told me about how he did it.   


 “You juice.”  It was not a question.


Bill sighed.  “No.  They test for it.  And it's bad for you.  I can't afford to risk my health.  You see, I'm infected with a virus.”

I looked at him. Really looked. The omnipresent sunglasses hid his eyes and his thoughts.   

“I have a disease. Although usually the word is used to describe something bad, this actually makes me a better athlete."


"Whatever I eat pretty much passes through me, though I'm able to absorb the water and alcohol from liquids. And I've developed an allergy to my favorite Italian herb. But the main difference in my diet is that I now must consume blood. Like the glass I gave you."  I felt queasy.

"The common belief is that my kind either don't exist or are destroyed by sunlight. I'm here and you've played day games with me. But I should really say 'our' kind."

My mind spun. “Our kind?”

“Last night I made you a vampire.”


----------



## Robdemanc (Dec 26, 2011)

Hi.  That was odd.  I was just in the mood to read something and an email popped up saying you had made a revision.

This sounds an improvement, it read much better.  I am still uncertain at the end though.  Is Rett aware that Bill is a vampire?  If Bill turned him/her into one then perhaps it would be more intriguing for Rett to find this out another way rather than being told.


----------



## aj47 (Dec 26, 2011)

Rett wasn't aware.  He thought Bill was using steroids.  And had some secret way to not have them detected.  But Bill never gave Rett a straight answer.   So Rett is really drunk, and maybe Bill is a little, too.  Because he decides to do whatever it is that makes someone a vampire to Rett.  Rett was too drunk or vampire-spelled or whatever to remember that anything happened.  The reasons Bill didn't tell Rett before and is telling him now are:

Bill trusts Rett but not enough to tell him the vampire secret unless Rett has a stake in it
Bill wants to educate Rett about vampirism so nothing bad / public happens because Rett is a vampire and doesn't realize it.  While these incidents might make good stories, the trouble is, Bill is too smart to let that happen if he can avoid it.
Bill wants to cement the friendship, not destroy it.
Basically, although Rett is the protagonist, it's really Bill's I'm-a-great-baseball-player-because-I'm-a-vampire story.  The question that it answers in my mind, as the author is, what if these guys who say they don't juice *really* don't juice--how else can you explain it?

If this gets to the point where it makes sense to people I may write some Rett stories.  Only about Rett, not just from his POV.  

(Rett is short for Everett -- I wanted something different for a name.)


----------



## egpenny (Dec 27, 2011)

I like the revised story, I like the ending too, nice little twist that made me smile.  The only thing I have to say that is nit picky is toward the end, where Bill is talking, ending with* "Like the glass I gave you."  *I'd leave off the *I felt queasy.  *That or give him his own line or add it to the *my mind spun *line.  I think Rhett stories would be a good thing.  Penny


----------



## aj47 (Dec 27, 2011)

Thanks Penny.  You are exactly right.  I'll leave it off.


----------



## IgorS (Dec 28, 2011)

Could use work, but it is not a bad idea. Just clear up the stories obscurities and work on the dialogue; it is a little blase. This could be used as a good excerpt for a story after you have it revised.


----------



## bazz cargo (Jan 17, 2012)

Hi Lass,
cool idea. I got here after reading your prequel bit. You might consider marrying them up and adding chapter one to the title.

Dialogue is one of my many weak areas, I take as much practice at it as I can. Yours is pretty good, but could still do with a little polish.
I enjoy your poetry. I would have expected a touch of it in your prose. Looked hard and didn't see any.
See ya round.


----------



## akrathan (Jun 10, 2012)

Just an opinion, but I feel you might explain with prose a bit more and dialogue a bit less. As it is, sometimes the dialogue seems a bit forced, like a vehicle to tell the story, rather than what someone might actually say. It does still pull you along though so it's well done overall. Best of luck.


----------



## Firm1 (Jun 15, 2012)

I like this.  It was short, which was probably why the dialogue was one-sided.  Had to fit in a lot in a few sentences.  My favorite was the fact that you had no idea what he was talking about until the very end.  Nice work.


----------

