PRL Serials

The following is an account of a gathering of the VIV writing collective. All names have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved.

Day 1/Night 2

Everyone was up by ten the next morning and I was surprised that we went right into discussion of our writing business and no one brought up their dreams from the night before. We had agreed to discuss any strange dreams that may have resulted from the Welsh Rarebit we’d eaten for dinner the previous night, but I had slept peacefully and I assumed that everyone had as well. 

“I’m interested in the fire ants,” Gabby said from the bay window in the dining room. It was padded, and Gabby sat cross-legged with the sun shining at her back. 

“What about them?” Hallie asked. She’d made breakfast burritos and passed one to Gabby. Everyone at the table took bites and thanked her for making them.

“This is awesome,” Gabby said. “Chief, do you remember that story about the ants in Ladoga? I think it was called Plague of the Ants.”

“Yes,” I said, remembering the story about the prevalence of fire ants in the city after one of the rural residents cursed city officials for neglecting their rural citizens. 

“What happened to all the fire ants?” Gabby asked. “I remember how bad it was in 2008 to like 2012, and there’s still ants, but not fire ants, not like it used to be. What happened? Did the city get rid of them?”

“Not the city,” Sabrina said. “They only dealt with them in public places and honestly, nothing they ever did was that effective.”

“It’s not just Ladoga,” Hallie said. “It’s the same in Matthews where my sister lives. There’s still ants, but not like there were and I don’t think I’ve seen a fire ant in a long time. But I’m not an expert, I just know what them mounds used to look like and I know I don’t see them anymore.”

“They’re still there,” Angie said, “they’re all over the southern half of North Carolina. It’s a temperature thing. Above a certain latitude, the fire ants can’t stand the cold.”

“So maybe the city did do something,” Gabby said. “Hallie’s right, I haven’t seen any hills like I remember in years.”

“If you follow up that story, you have to talk to the man that was featured in the original,” I said. “You should get a few people to help you do some digging around town, talk to people, experts and see if you can prove a marked decline, but even if there is, you have to tie any story back to the original.”

Gabby nodded as she chewed delightfully on a burrito.

“I’ll get some people together and see what I can find out,” she said when her mouth wasn’t full.

“We talked about it before,” Sabrina said, changing the subject, “but I think we should incorporate more day-to-day news in Ladoga. I know it’s hard because of our schedule, but Noah and I have been looking into the email newsletter. It allows for shorter stories and we can keep people informed in between the issues of our current schedule.”

“I don’t like those email newsletters,” Hallie said. “I know most people get there news by scrolling through headlines, but what we do is valued because it’s more old school. People like the long form work we do. It’s well researched and it’s thorough. I don’t think we should waste effort on smaller stuff.”

We discussed this for the rest of breakfast, and on our afternoon trip to the beach. Even though everyone had very strong opinions about taking This and Other Things, the quarterly publication that we produced only physically to that point, into the digital space, we were able to have a long and relaxed discussion for most of that first day. We really took the time to debate it and just before dinner, as we all lazed around on the back porch still smelling of the ocean, we decided to create a department that would create a pitch for what our publication’s online presence should be. We had many volunteers on the publication at the time and we drew up a list of names that we would invite to join this new digital department. 

Everyone talked me out of cooking dinner because there were enough leftovers from the night before and they wanted to relax together without the guilt of me sweating in the kitchen. After we showered, we all met in the kitchen to heat up leftovers and we brought everything to the table. I realized that the Welsh Rarebit was barely touched.

“Nobody was interested in the rarebit?” I asked. Maybe the background I had given on the dish made everyone wary of trying.

“Honestly,” Noah said, “I was too full of everything else to get to it.” He used a spoon to put one of cheese encrusted bread slices on his plate. 

“I was scared to try it,” Sabrina admitted. “If somebody else had said it was good, I would have tried it.”

“I’m with Noah,” Gabby said. “I really wanted to try it but I forgot about it after all that wine.”

“Did you have any dreams last night, Chief?” Hallie asked.

“Not that I remember,” I said honestly.

“I did,” Angie said softly.

Everyone looked at her. 

Angie looked around nervously. She took a deep breath and the room was quiet. 

“It’s really good, Chief,” she said after a minute. “That cheese sauce is so good. It reminds me of these sharp cheddar waffle chips I used to get from the grocery store. Y’all remember those?”

Everyone nodded, Gabby and Noah started into the Rarebit and their faces made it clear that they enjoyed it. 

“I used to beg for those chips, and there were never enough in the bag. My brothers and sisters hated me so much when I had those things, I never shared and I had to be alone to make sure nobody asked me for any.

“It’s crazy how memories come to you. It wasn’t like I was eating and then all this stuff just came back to me. I was just enjoying it, and I was about to go for seconds but I thought everyone else forgot about it and I didn’t want to eat more before someone else had the chance to try it. But I think after I ate it, something started nagging me in the back of my mind over the course of the night. I was trying to remember what it reminded me of and then late last night it hit me, those waffle chips. And then I went to bed.”

Angie wasn’t solemn, or ominous, but she spoke very deliberately, very thoughtfully. Her eyes were open, she barely blinked, and it was as though her recollections flowed from her. Everyone watched her without making a sound.