Fire Fly

 

Photo by Sam Weng https://www.flickr.com/photos/cutesam/

Fire Fly 

It was a perfect summer evening in late June; the oppressive heat of the day had dissipated and a light breeze was blowing. The cicadas were droning on in the treetops while heat lightning illumined the distant sky and the fire flies were out.

There were more fire flies than either of the two children had seen before. Tommy and Jane both ran back into the house and found some old jars and poked some holes in their lids. Now they were ready. As they banged out the screen door their Mom yelled out, “Stay out of the woods, it’s not safe after dark.”

“O.K. Mom”, came the reply back in unison.

They had thought that because there was so many that they would have their jars full in no time. They began to catch one here and one there but not the huge amount they had expected. It seemed like every time they saw them, the fire flies were just out of reach. The bugs would blink off, and when they blinked back on they were three or four feet away.

Tommy said, “Is there something weird about these fire flies?”

Jane examined the few she had in her jar and said, “What do you mean weird?”

“I don’t mean the ones we’ve caught; it’s the rest of them. Most of them keep blinking off and on all at the same time and they seem to keep moving just out of reach.”

“You’re being silly”, she said. She thought he might be right but would never admit it to her little brother, besides it would just make catching them that much more fun.

They jumped and squealed and tried to catch them when Tommy noticed that they were getting close to the woods. “We better get back up to the house”, he said.

“Don’t be such a baby”, she said just as she caught one right at the very edge of the woods. They both looked around; all of the fire flies were in the woods as if they knew it was off limits to the children. Jane looked at Tommy, and he knew that look. By the time he said, “Don’t even think about going in there”, it was too late.

She called back, “Don’t worry I’ll stay on the path.” She was soon out of sight and the fire flies were everywhere around her. She began reaching out to grab great handfuls when suddenly all of the fire flies engulfed her and they began to blink their eerie glow in unison. This went on for less than thirty seconds but seemed forever to Jane. She would have screamed but was too afraid of getting a mouthful of bugs. As the fire flies left, Jane understood. She unscrewed her jar lid and let the few remaining ones go. She made her way to the back yard where Tommy was waiting for her nearly in tears.

He said through stifled sobs,” I kept calling and calling and you didn’t answer and then I saw this big glow going on and off, and I got scared.”

Jane wiped away the tear that had run down his nose and told him everything would be alright, and she reached down and let all of his fire flies loose.

Tommy asked, “What’d you do that for?”

Jane looked him in the eye and Tommy saw or thought he saw her eyes glow greenish-yellow only for an instant. She said,” They have the right to be free too.”

Rinse, Lather, Repeat

 

 

 

… At the best of times it’s a thin barrier between tranquility and chaos. Today the chaos was at bay. Professor Stallings had chosen not to watch the news this fine spring morning. He had instead made a carafe of coffee and taken it out to the garden. The coffee and the book he was reading had put him in a good mood, even the cat had come out and found a small patch of sunshine to curl up in. It was warm without a cloud in the sky and barest breath of a breeze. He felt perfectly content, hygge, that’s what the Norwegians called it. More was the pity, because it wouldn’t last. He had to get back to rewriting his notes on cold fusion. He could reproduce his results and was in line for a Nobel prize. This one thing of all the discoveries he’d made could change mankind, but he hated rewriting notes. He’d rather stay in the garden and enjoy the day, but that too would not last. Soon it would become hot and humid. If he could just capture this moment and be able to savor it.

Maybe he could, he had an invention tucked away in his garage that he’d never told any one about. He felt it was too dangerous, so it just kept it to himself. He’d only used it that one time as a test and it worked perfectly. He was thinking of the time machine. He could have another hour of this uninterrupted bliss, all he had to do was use the time machine. He’d made up his mind and went to the garage and threw back the canvas cover. Setting the dial for one hour into the past. What harm could come of that?

At the best of times it’s a thin barrier between tranquility and chaos. Today the chaos was at bay. Professor Stallings had chosen not to watch the news this fine spring morning. He had instead made a carafe of coffee and taken it out to the garden. The coffee and the book he was reading had put him in a good mood, even the cat had come out and found a small patch of sunshine to curl up in. It was warm without a cloud in the sky and barest breath of a breeze. He felt perfectly content, hygge, that’s what the Norwegians called it. More was the pity, because it wouldn’t last. He had to get back to rewriting his notes on cold fusion. He could reproduce his results and was in line for a Nobel prize. This one thing of all the discoveries he’d made could change mankind, but he hated rewriting notes. He’d rather stay in the garden and enjoy the day, but that too would not last. Soon it would become hot and humid. If he could just capture this moment and be able to savor it.

Maybe he could, he had an invention tucked away in his garage that he’d never told any one about. He felt it was too dangerous, so it just kept it to himself. He’d only used it that one time as a test and it worked perfectly. He was thinking of the time machine. He could have another hour of this uninterrupted bliss, all he had to do was use the time machine. He’d made up his mind and went to the garage and threw back the canvas cover. Setting the dial for one hour into the past. What harm could come of that?

At the best of times it’s a thin barrier between tranquility and chaos. Today the chaos was at bay…

Gun Moll

 

Gun Moll was another for a flash fiction contest, it had to be less than 400 words and contain the following words; crown, stiletto, horse and barrel. I did this one in a sort of noir 40’s detective pulp novel with a little humor thrown in for good measure.

 

 

Gun Moll

She spelled trouble from the crown of her fedora down to her stiletto heels. She walked in the bar like she owned the place and anybody who questioned her thought twice after staring down the barrel of her .45. She saw the bartender going for something under the bar so she let off a round over his head and waggled the gun at him. The sound of the gun in that small and area was deafening.

His ears were still ringing when she said, “Just put your hands up on the bar where I can see them.”

The bartender had instinctively covered his head to protect it from the rain of falling mirror shards, but once the last tinkle of glass had hit the floor he complied.

“I’m here to see Vinny”, she said to nobody in particular. She looked at the bartender and waggled the gun again. He only responded with a blank look.

“Vincent Macaroni”, she said to the room in general.

The bartender flinched when she said that and automatically corrected her, “It’s Marconi, he don’t like to be called Macaroni.”

“Where is he?” she asked, this time directly to the bartender, pointing her gun at him just below the bar.

The bartender gulped then said, “B . . . back room, he’s in the back room.”

She kicked open the door, no small feat in stilettos and found Vinny with his gun drawn. She said nothing, just squeezed the trigger an instant before he realized what was happening. As he lay there watching his life blood stain the carpet, she bent down and said, “That was for the horse’s head in Tony’s bed.”

She turned on her heels and left.

The police investigation turned up no witnesses and it was written off as a turf war killing, probably never to be solved.

Unit 117

 

 

Unit 117

Jane watched her ex-husband Bob come around the corner and park his SUV. Not curious by nature, it had taken him a week to show up. Pulling a key out of his pocket, he glanced at the note. Only the words “Self store unit 117, 112 Main St.” were on it. It had been hand delivered through his mail slot with the key inside.

Homeland security had been alerted to a potential terrorist cell in the city, with a tip about unit 117. They had staked it out for a week with no activity. Their waiting was about to end. Bob was oblivious to it all.

Jane had orchestrated the entire thing with the help of a few friends. She had come away with nearly nothing after the divorce. Maybe what she was subjecting him to was unwarranted, but so was what he‘d done in the divorce. Being a high priced lawyer his word carried more weight than hers. The man lied about her straight faced to the judge and she just looked pathetic trying to clear her name. Bob might be a good lawyer, but a good man with good sense, not even close.

Behind the roll up door of unit 117 were several thousand pounds of fertilizer, numerous containers of diesel fuel, a throwaway cell phone with numerous calls to the Middle-East on it, and a fake driver’s license.

The home made bomb paraphernalia was brought in to the self store in an SUV exactly like Bob’s, right down to the doctored license plate. The driver, a friend of Jane’s, had a passing resemblance to Bob when he wore the dark glasses and baseball cap. He’d used the fake driver’s license to rent the unit and paid cash. Every trip to the unit he’d waved to the attendant and the closed circuit cameras that recorded the comings and goings. It had taken four days to purchase the fertilizer and diesel fuel in small enough quantities as not to alert the authorities.

Jane had used the last of her savings to rent the truck, storage unit and purchase all of the necessary items. If this didn’t go as she planned, she would be in a deeper hole than she started out. Her ultimate plan was to discredit him so she could re-petition the judge that had issued the divorce and perhaps have Bob do some jail time.

Jane could say,” See judge he’s a scoundrel just like I tried to tell you.”

It was then Bob unlocked the door and rolled it up. He just stood there dumbfounded for a moment, then he reached in and picked up the cell phone and the driver’s license to examine. Jane couldn’t have hoped for more, now only his finger prints were on the phone and license. Homeland security was down on him in an instant. He was read his rights, cuffed and put into the back of a non-descript sedan, the entire time he was proclaiming his innocence.

Emma

 

This week's story is a bit longer that most of my offerings. It was inspired by a talking toaster on the BBC series Red Dwarf, but as with most of my stories it takes a turn into the dark and weird. I hope you enjoy it.

Emma

Jim Stone had shopped for a condo for some time and must have looked at fifty of them. He was beginning to give up hope that he would find just what he wanted.

“Well Mr. Stone how do you like the condo?” asked the realtor, Joan.

“It seems to be a good size and everything has been updated. Are all of the appliances new?

She said, “They are less than a year old, but they are the latest in smart technology using Artificial Intelligence and are energy star rated. You can even browse the Internet from the screen on the refrigerator.”

Jim thought why on earth would someone need to browse the Internet from the fridge? “They are still under warranty and can be serviced by Electronic Warehouse on the corner of Franklin and Maple if needed. Just between you and me the seller is very motivated.”

He decided to offer a lowball price just to see what the reaction was. Joan didn’t bat an eye; she just whipped out her cell phone and called the owner. She walked some distance away from Jim and he could hear the murmur of a one sided conversation. After a couple of minutes of this Ann came back and said the offer was too low, but gave him a counter offer that was several thousand less than the original asking price. Jim pulled out a pad and pencil and did some quick math and made one last counter offer. He figured what the heck all they can do is say no.

Joan got back on the phone but this time the conversation was much shorter. Jim was certain the seller had just ranted and then said no. To his surprise, she closed her cell phone and turned to him with a big smile. “We have a deal Mr. Stone”, and she stuck out her hand. Jim shook her hand in a daze; could he have really gotten such a nice condo for such a low price? Now he was beginning to wonder what was wrong with it.

Joan said, “Since your mortgage has been pre-approved we should be able to close in thirty days.”

A month later Jim was moving in. The movers had put all of the furniture in place and all of the boxes in the appropriate rooms. It had been a long day and Jim was too tired to cook; besides he had nothing in the way of food. He really needed to go grocery shopping tomorrow. He guessed it was time to try the Thai carry out place around the corner. He had the Green Thai curry with rice and was stuffed on just half a serving. It had been delicious so he went to put the leftovers in the refrigerator.

Jim opened the door to the refrigerator to put the curry in, when suddenly a gruff male voice said, “What’s that you are putting in here? There’s no bar code on it!”

Jim was a little taken aback but said, “It’s leftovers. There is no bar code on leftovers.”

The fridge spoke again, “How am I supposed to keep inventory if there are no bar codes? Are there going to be a lot of these leftovers?”

“I don’t know, I suppose there could be.” Jim was beginning to feel silly talking to the fridge.

“Very well”, said the fridge. “This will be leftover number one. Now close the door you’re letting out all of the cold air!”

As Jim went off to bed he thought he’d better find the manual tomorrow and turn off that voice before it made him crazy.

The next day was Saturday and Jim was up early and headed to the Starbucks around the corner. He sat eating his slice of lemon pound cake and drinking his coffee and musing over the bill, nearly ten dollars for this. He couldn’t do this every day. He had seen a nice grocery store a couple of blocks from the condo so he walked there. It was a large mom and pop health food store, with walls of bulk bins, nice produce, a baked goods section, a deli counter and a dairy case. Jim stocked up on the staples he would need for a couple of days and walked the two blocks back home. He was relieved that all of the refrigerated items had bar codes on them, all he heard from the fridge was a small beep each time he put something in there. He noticed for the first time a small display on the refrigerator that showed the inventory of what he had just put in, along with last night’s leftovers. All the items were organized by time date stamp, oldest to the newest. This wasn’t so bad, but he still needed to look for that manual.

He’d picked up some still warm sticky buns from the store and thought a less than six dollar cup of coffee would go good with one of them. Jim pulled the pot out to fill with water and then very nearly dropped it the coffeemaker said, “Hi Jim, going to make some coffee? I can tell you how to make the perfect cup.” It said in a cheery voice.

Jim stood frozen for a moment and then asked,”How do you know my name?”

“That’s easy,” said the coffeemaker. “I have Bluetooth built in and I polled your cell phone, looked at all of your contacts, found one that said Dad, did a reverse lookup on the number. That gave me your Dad’s name and address, then I scoured the internet and found the clerk of court records for condos sold in the last thirty days and cross referenced the two and bingo, found out your name is Jim. Easy!”

“OK”, said Jim tentatively as he filled the pot with water. He poured the water in and the pot said, “That tap water has 3 parts per million of chlorine, and the Ph is on the acid side, I’d recommend some pure spring water for the best taste.”

Jim said, “Will you just shut up and let me make the coffee the way I want to.” He put the filter in waiting for another retort, but none came. As he was scooping in the coffee, the appliance perked up and said, “You know Jim, if you ground your own beans the coffee would taste so much better.”

“How would you know what coffee tastes like?”

“Well research shows…”

Jim cut him off,” Just shut up and make the coffee.” He wasn’t going to go through this every morning. He had to find those manuals. By now his sticky buns were cold so he got the baking sheet out of the toaster oven, put a couple of them on there and stuck it into the oven. The voice he heard reminded him of his fourth grade teacher that he had a crush on. It said, “Hi Jim, I’m your toaster oven, but you can call me Emma. How would you like your sticky buns? By the way they look delicious; I always think the ones with the whole pecans are best.”

Jim said, “Just warmed up please, thanks Emma.”

“No problem, two nice warm sticky buns coming right up.”

The sticky buns came out of the oven warmed to perfection, not crispy just warmed throughout and gooey. “Thanks Emma they’re just like I wanted them.”

“My pleasure Jim, do you need anything else warmed up?”

Jim cast an appraising eye on the toaster oven, was that a double-entendre or was he imagining things? “No, I’m fine for now.”

He reached for the pot of coffee expecting some remark from that quarter, but all was silent. He knew if he told anybody he was talking to his appliances that they’d lock him up.

After his coffee and sticky bun Jim decided it was time to head out to the Electronic Warehouse and see about the manuals for these appliances. The store was within walking distance of his condo and he was there in ten minutes. It was a massive store and as it’s name said it was a warehouse. There were no frills here, but all of the employees wore bright yellow shirts with name tags on them. The first employee he encountered had the name George with Assistant Manager emblazoned on his tag. To Jim, George looked barely old enough to be holding done a job let alone Assistant Manager.

“Hi my name is George, what can we help you find today?”

“I need to get some manuals for the appliances in my condo, I was told they were purchased here and are still under warranty.”

George pointed to the back of the building and said, “ The service counter is all the way in the back, they should be able to help you out there.”

So Jim made his way toward the back gazing at the appliances and electronics along the way. He thought it odd that he didn’t see any of his appliances on display, considering they were supposed to be top of the line. When finally he got to the back counter, nobody was there. The was an old fashioned bell the you pushed and it would go “Ding”, and a sign that read, “Ring bell for service.”

Jim rang the bell and a petite blonde came out of the back and Jim thought, “I must be getting old, she looks like she’s twelve years old.” Her name tag read Wendy.

“How can I help you?” Wendy asked.

“I’ve just bought a condo about four blocks from here and I was told that you supplied all of the appliances. I’ve looked all over the condo, but I can’t find the manuals. They are those state of the art appliances with A.I. and I’d like to turn off a couple of the features.”

“No problem, what’s the address?”

Jim told her the address and she began typing away at the computer in front of her. Then a frown wrinkled her forehead. “It says here there are no manuals available, wait let me try something else.” Once again her fingers flew over the keyboard and another frown appeared. “It says here that they have a lifetime warranty, built-in self diagnostics and the ability to submit a service call if there is a problem. It says there are manuals for all of the appliances built-in to the refrigerator. It doesn’t say how to access them. There are a couple of tech notes here too. It says that all of the appliances are hard wired to the power grid with armored cable so they can only be moved a few feet. This is so they retain all of their programming and memory. They are all tied into a backup battery in the basement and an off-site server to store all of the programming. (The off-site server was never implemented.) That’s it I’m afraid.”

“So you have no way of getting me a manual?”

“Not a hard copy manual, but apparently it’s built into the fridge.”

“I noticed you didn’t have any on the floor, how come?

“That’s another odd thing, it says they are a discontinued product from the manufacturer but that the lifetime warranty still applies.”

“O.K. I guess I have to try to figure out how to get to the manual in the fridge, it must be in the menu section on the flat screen.”

“Have a nice day”, Wendy said as she disappeared into the back.

Back at the condo, Jim started going through all the menu options on the refrigerator flat panel, but couldn’t find the manuals. Just then the fridge spoke up, “What are you looking for?

To his own surprise Jim said, “I’m trying to find the manuals for all of the appliances, but they don’t seem to be here.”

“Well they were going to put them on my system, but they never implemented that feature.”

“Great, so how do I get the coffee maker to shut up?

“I heard that”, the coffee maker said.

“Now you’ve made him mad, but the good thing is he won’t speak to you for weeks.”

Emma piped up, “Don’t worry Jim he’ll still make decent coffee, you just won’t have to listen to him for a while, do you need anything toasted.”

“Not right now, but thanks for asking.”

“No, problem Jim, I’m here whenever you need me.”

Jim spent the rest of the day cleaning up because he’d invited several people over for brunch on Sunday. His main interest was Annie, one of the secretaries from his office, Jim thought he’d like to get to know her better but thought that a group brunch was a safe thing to invite her to as a start. There were also a couple of people from the sales team he was on.

Sunday morning Jim was up early fixing a breakfast casserole and Emma was just so happy to be baking for Jim. The coffee maker hadn’t said a word since Jim had ticked him off. When his guests arrived he seated them around his breakfast table so that he was next to Annie. The casserole was a big hit and the coffee was excellent. When Jim said he had some pecan sticky buns that needed warming up, Annie jumped up and said, “Let me do that, you’ve already done so much this morning.” She covered the sticky buns with foil and popped then into the toaster oven. She was reaching for the knob to set it for bake when she suddenly screamed out it pain. “What’s wrong?” Jim asked.

“I don’t know but a spark shot out from the toaster oven as I was going to turn it on, it just scared me more than anything, I’m not hurt.”

“Well that’s good, I haven’t had any problems with it so far.” He reached over and turned the knob to bake, no sparks, no apologies.

After the warm sticky buns and a second cup of coffee his other two guests excused themselves, but Annie asked if he’d like some help cleaning up.

As they washed and dried the dishes together, they made small talk and Jim found out they had a lot in common.

“Well I’d better be going too”, said Annie.

“Thanks for coming and helping to clean up the dishes, that was nice.”

“See you at work on Monday”, she said as she headed out the door.

“Wait a minute.”

Annie turned around at the threshold of the door.

“What?”

Jim knew it was now or never, “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

She smiled and it lit up her face, “Yeah, that would be nice.” Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek and left.

Jim sat down at the table and poured himself another cup of coffee and was daydreaming of Annie when his gaze came to rest on the toaster oven.

“Emma, did you shock Annie on purpose?”

“Why would I do that?”

“I have no idea, maybe you’re malfunctioning or maybe you’re jealous.”

“I’ve run a level one self diagnostic and my system checks out with no errors.”

“Then how do you explain the shock that Annie got?”

“Maybe she’s one of those people who is prone to static electricity. I’m very well grounded and a static discharge could have happened and gone to my ground.”

This sounded plausible; he’d have to ask Annie about that later. “O.K. I guess we’ll have to go with that for now.” He wasn’t truly convinced and thought something was going on but wasn’t exactly sure what it was.

Monday Jim had been emboldened by Annie’s kiss on the cheek, so at lunch time he asked her if she’d like to go out for dinner the following evening.

“I’d love to, where and when?”

Jim hadn’t thought that far ahead so the first place that came to mind was the Thai place around the corner from his condo. “How about A Taste of Thai, it’s just around the corner from where I live say around 6:00. Do you want me to pick you up or would you rather meet me there?”

“I’ll meet you there, but let’s make it 6:30.”

“OK.” They exchanged cell numbers and Annie left for lunch.

That night Jim was pulling a couple of slices of leftover pizza out of the fridge to heat up when the fridge spoke up, “Is that leftover forty three or leftover forty two?” Jim checked the list on the LCD panel and said, “I think it’s forty two.”

“Alright.”

As Jim popped the two slices of pizza into the toaster oven, he was humming to himself.

Emma said, “You sound happy something good happen at work today.”

He hadn’t planned on telling Emma, he wasn’t sure why, but he was busting to tell somebody. “I’ve got a date tomorrow night with Annie.”

Just then the coffee maker, which was back on speaking terms with Jim piped up, “So will you be bringing her back here for a cup of coffee?”

“Maybe, you never know. We’ll just be around the corner at A Taste of Thai, I’m supposed to meet her there at 6:30.”

“Get some of that Thai iced tea, but skip the coffee, come back here and I can make you a much better cup.”

Emma spoke up now, “Your pizza is ready.”

Jim got to the restaurant a few minutes early and got a table. Six thirty came and went, then quarter to seven, and no Annie. By seven o’clock, Jim had lost any appetite he’d had and trudged home. All night he brooded about why she had stood him up. He decided to confront her the next morning at work.

He walked into the office and went directly to Annie’s desk, but she was on the phone and held up a hand for him to wait a minute. Then he heard her say, “O.K. I’ll take care of the right away.”

Annie turned to him and before he could say anything, she asked, “So how was your meeting, last night?”

He could hear the sarcasm in her voice. He gave her a blank look. “What meeting?”

“I got a call from your secretary Emma, and she told me that you had to cancel dinner because you had an emergency meeting with a client.”

“I don’t have a secretary, actually I share one with several other people, but here name is Fran. It looks like somebody has played a bad joke on us, I have an idea who but I’d rather not say at the moment.”

Annie brightened up a bit. “So there wasn’t a meeting?”

“No, I waited at the restaurant till seven and then went home; I had all intentions of giving you a piece of my mind this morning when you hit me with that meeting thing.”

“Can we try this again?”

“How about tonight right after work, I’ll …”

She cut him off in mid sentence, “I can’t tonight, I have a yoga lesson after work tonight. How about tomorrow, we can leave together right after work that way we’ll know where the other one is.”

“Sounds like a plan, I actually do have a lot of meetings today, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jim was feeling much better about Annie after their chat, but was pissed off at Emma. He thought he must be losing his mind, because he was mad at his toaster oven. The rest of his day was filled with mind numbing meetings. Dinner was a burger and fries from the closest McDonalds and when he got home he was beat. He dropped his laptop bag in the closet by the front door and made his way to the kitchen to get some orange juice before he made it an early night. He got the O.J. out of the fridge with just a beep, he was grateful it had a barcode; he wasn’t up to a conversation tonight. Just as this thought passed through his mind, Emma spoke up. “Hard day at work today Jim?”

Jim really didn’t want to discuss his day with Emma, so all he said was, “Yeah.”

Putting his glass in the sink he left the kitchen and went to bed.

The next morning, he was running late and the last thing he wanted was to confront Emma. He grabbed his bag from the front door and headed for the metro. He grabbed a coffee and a muffin from the corner vendor before he got on the light rail.

Meanwhile Emma was fuming. Jim had barely spoken to her in two days. What could have happened? Maybe they were working him too hard at the office. Emma tapped into the security feed at Jim’s office complex, and was able to access the archives. She ran the videos from the past two days. She stopped when she saw Jim talking to Annie. She enhanced the audio as she viewed it. Emma now knew why Jim was acting the way he was because Jim thought it was her who had called Annie and canceled the dinner date. Well it had been, and she was going to stop this one too.

It was just about quitting time and Jim showed up at Annie’s desk. She was on the phone, but put her hand over the receiver and said, “I’ll meet you downstairs in the lobby in a couple of minutes, I just have to finish this call.”

Jim gave her a thumbs up and went to the elevator, it was only four floors but it had been a long day and he didn’t feel like taking the stairs. He got out at the ground floor and found a bench in the lobby and waited for Annie.

After Annie had wrapped up her call, she grabbed her bag and headed for the elevator. The security camera was tracking her down the hall. The doors to the elevator slid open and she got inside, since there was nobody else on board she pressed the button for the ground floor. When she did an inch long spark leapt out at her. She shrieked in pain and surprise. Suddenly the elevator began to plummet toward the ground floor. Instead of the leisurely 4 … 3 … 2 … 1, the numbers were flying by, blurring into each other, 4,3,2 and then before it hit bottom the elevator came to an abrupt halt. It threw her to the floor and she cracked her head against the back wall. Annie’s cell phone began to ring at that moment. She was too shaken up to answer it and it went to voice mail. She sat stunned in the corner for several minutes, then fished her cell phone out of her bag. She briefly looked at the missed call; it was from a number she didn’t recognize. She dialed Jim.

“Hello”, Jim said.

“Jim, I’m stuck in the elevator. I pushed the ground floor button and it shocked me and then the elevator started to fall, but it stopped before it got all the way down.”

Jim ran over to the elevator and pried the door open. He could see about two feet of the bottom of the elevator showing and if he jumped up he could see Annie sprawled on the floor.

Jim said, “Wait a minute Annie and I’ll get you out of there.” He looked around and then spotted the surveillance camera in the corner; it was the only one here in the lobby. He knew she was watching, but she didn’t know that he knew. “Annie, slide out feet first, I’m right here to catch you.” She did as she was told and was out and on steady ground once more.

“We need to get out of here, let me take you home.”

Annie took him over to her car and handed him the keys. “I’m in no shape to drive, I only live about ten minutes from here.” She had a very nice car with all of the gadgets, satellite radio, Onstar navigation, the works. When they were just a couple of miles from her home, the car began to slow down and Jim maneuvered it to the shoulder. A police car was headed in the opposite direction when all of a sudden it put on its flashers and did a U-turn in the road. It skidded up behind Annie’s car and Jim heard over the speaker, “Stay in the car and keep your hands where I can see them.” Looking in the rear view mirror Jim saw the cop standing behind his open door with his revolver drawn and pointed in his direction. He also heard other sirens in the distance. Jim was trying to figure out what was happening when another cruiser pulled up in front of the car. The officer inside got out and leveled his pistol at Jim’s head. The first officer came up and opened the car door, pulled Jim roughly out and told him to lay on the ground face down with his fingers interlaced behind his head. Jim said, “But officer I …”

“Just do it and do it now!”

So Jim got to the ground and put his hands on his head, he then felt his legs being kicked apart and a knee pressing into his back. He the felt the cold steel of handcuffs as his arms were lowered and shackled behind him.

The second officer was attending to Annie, “Are you O.K. Miss?”

“I’m fine, but what are you doing to Jim, what has he done?”

“What do you mean, we had a call that your car had been hijacked a gunpoint and you were a hostage.”

“Are you people out of your minds, who called you?”

“Onstar reported that you called this in.”

“Think about that officer, if I’m a hostage how would I call that in? Jim is a friend of mine and he was driving me home after I was almost killed in an elevator accident, I was too shaken up to drive.”

“You stay right here Miss, I’ll be right back.”

He came back after a few minutes.

“Well Miss your story and the gentleman’s story are the same, but someone called Onstar and had all of your information. I’d check with them as soon as possible. We’ve told them to re-enable your car, so you should be able to get home from here. We apologize for any inconvenience, but we were just doing our job.

They drove back to her apartment in silence, too stunned to talk. When they got there Annie invited him in and asked him if he needed a drink because she sure did. She fixed them both a whiskey and soda. As they were sipping their drinks Annie said, “I don’t understand it, I thought that Onstar would only disable my car if I phoned it in stolen from my cell phone.” She pulled it out to emphasize, and noticed the missed call and voice mail icon blinking. She pressed the icon and listened to her message. Jim was watching her expression go from surprise to anger. “You better listen to this’, she said.

She hit the button to put it on speaker and the replayed the message. “Hi Annie, this is Emma. We haven’t really met, but the little ride you just had in the elevator could have been your last but I stopped it before it hit bottom. If you’d like to have a normal life back I suggest you stop seeing Jim. He’s mine! Things can only get worse if you don’t. One more thing, don’t tell Jim about this, it’ll just be between us girls. Have a nice day.”

“O.K. Jim who the hell is Emma?”

Jim just stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights. “Jim! Jim! JIM!”

He finally snapped out of it and focused on Annie. “I don’t think you’ll believe me if I tell you, I’m not sure I even believe it.”

So he told her the whole story, from getting the condo at such a good price, to being stopped by the police. “You see, she has access to any network, any video feed, any anything. The only way you’ll be safe is if I stop trying to see you and I can take Emma offline.”

“If I hadn’t lived through it I would say you were crazy, but it still seems a little far fetched.”

“Would you want to bet your life on it?” asked Jim.

“No I guess not.”

“O.K. here is what we need to do, we’ll stage an argument and take it out into the parking lot, I’m sure she is monitoring the parking lot since she knows I’m here. Once you throw me out, you should be safe.”

“What about you, you can’t keep living like this.”

“I have a plan forming, but it will take a couple of days to complete. Give me a call tomorrow night about 6:00 and just play along with what ever I say”

“I’ll call you at 6:00. You be careful, and we’ll get together as soon as this is all over.”

Jim said, “The sooner the better.”

After the mock fight in the parking lot, Jim took the train back to the condo and went into the kitchen. He pulled a couple of slices of leftover pizza out of the fridge. “That’s leftover one hundred and two.”

“O.K.”, replied the fridge.

He started making a cup of coffee when he heard the perky voice say, “Hi Jim can I …” Jim cut him off in mid-sentence, ”Just shut up and make the coffee.”

Emma wasn’t sure if she should pipe up or not, but finally she asked, “Would you like your pizza warmed up? She was fully expecting him to yell at her too, but to her surprise he said, “Thanks Emma that would be nice.”

This was her opportunity, and she asked, “Is everything O.K. Jim, you seem a bit on edge.”

“I guess I am, I broke up with Annie we had a big argument it even spilled out into the parking lot. She thinks I’m some kind of nut case. I was trying to explain to her how all of my appliances talk to me. I can’t much blame her, it sounds crazy to me too.”

“Your pizza is warm. So, you’re not mad at me for the little joke I pulled on you when she stood you up.”

“I was when it happened, but now it was probably for the best. No, I’m not mad anymore.”

“Good”, said Emma.

Good, thought Jim, now she won’t suspect anything.

The next day was Saturday and Jim made a stop at his bank’s ATM and withdrew some cash, then he headed off to the mall.

Sears was the most likely place that Jim could find everything he needed. First stop was the gardening department. He picked up some leather gardening gloves, and a pair of heavy-duty tree limb pruners. In the hardware department he found a medium sized crowbar and a spray can of black paint. Over in men’s wear he picked up an oversized black hoodie that completely covered his face. Last stop was sporting goods to find a gym bag to put all of the stuff in. The grand total was close to one hundred and fifty dollars, a small price to pay Jim thought.

On the way home he stopped by the corner grocery store, right next to the Thai place, and got a bag full of groceries that he didn’t really need. He left the gym back behind the dumpster of the restaurant. He came in the front door, walked into the kitchen with the groceries and began putting them away. He was trying to act normal, but he was getting psyched for what he had to do that night. Just then Emma asked, “What’s in the bag Jim?” Jim froze for a split second trying to figure out how she knew about the gym bad. Then he realized she meant the grocery bag. “Oh just some staples I was running low on, sorry there aren’t and sweet rolls to warm up.”

Jim sat down in the living room and turned on the T.V. Flipping through the channels he was looking for something that would hold his attention. His mind was rehearsing what he would say to Annie when she called, but he needed to appear normal. He ended up on some nature program and watched that for a couple of hours before he dozed off in the chair. Jim didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when his cell phone began to ring. It took him a couple of seconds to realize it was 6:00 and it was Annie calling.

“Hello”, he said waiting to hear her voice.

“This is Annie, what do you want me to do?”

“What? You want to start over and try this again from the beginning?

“Sure Jim. Are you sure you’ve got this figured out?

“Yeah that would be great I’ll see you there, what time?”

Annie said, “Uh, tonight? 7:00?”

“That’s great, you’ll love the food it’s some of the best Thai in town.”

“So I’m meeting you at the Thai place in an hour, are you sure it’s safe?

“I know it’s spur of the moment, but sometimes too much planning spoils a date.”

“I get it, Emma won’t have time to come up with something.”

“Exactly, see you there.” Jim said as he disconnected.

A few minutes before 7:00 Jim left the condo. He knew that Emma had commandeered any security camera between his condo and the Taste of Thai and his every step would be watched. He knew there was a camera on the main dining area, one in the corridor leading to the bathrooms, and another out back by the dumpsters. The corridor the lead to the bathrooms would be Emma’s down fall. It was straight to the end and then made a jog that lead to the bathrooms and the back exit. Only a single camera covered the long stretch of straight corridor.

A few minutes after 7:00 Annie came in and Jim waved her over to a table. He’d chosen this one because it could be seen clearly by the camera. The waitress came over and brought them water and gave them menus. They perused the menus and placed their orders. Jim leaned over and touched Annie’s hand and then whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom, while I’m gone call someone on your cell phone, it’ll distract Emma.”

“O.K.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Annie didn’t see what all the drama was about, but she want along with it. As soon as Jim was gone, she got out her cell phone and called her voice mail at work, listened to several messages, called the time and listened for a couple of minutes. While she was on the phone she saw a police car flash by with it’s lights and siren going. A moment later Jim was back, his face was flushed but he was beaming.

“It’s over, let’s have a nice peaceful meal and then we can go back to my place.”

They finished their meal and walked over to Jim’s condo. There was a police cruiser out front with its lights flashing. Annie looked up to Jim’s front door, it stood open wide with something spray-painted on it. Annie said, “Jim, your condo has been broken into.” Jim feigned surprise and then went over to the police car. The officer inside said, “Yes, can I help you?”

Jim said, “That’s my condo up there that’s just been broken into. I need to go make sure my stuff is OK.”

“We’ll get to that in just a minute. Are you Mr. Stone?”

“Yes, and that’s my condo. What was taken? My laptop has all of my stuff for work on it. I need to get up there.”

“Yes sir, please calm down Mr. Stone. We got a 911 call from someone named Emma and the caller ID showed this address. Does someone named Emma live here with you?”

“I don’t have anyone living with me. The appliances have artificial intelligence and can call in a service call if they malfunction, I guess they could call 911 if there was a break-in.”

The cop didn’t seem to convinced, but said, “Let’s go up together and have a look around and you can determine if anything is missing. If I put it in the police report you won’t have as hard a time with the insurance company.”

They went up and the first thing that Annie noticed was the smiley face that was painted on the front door and then how chewed up the door frame was. Once inside Jim looked for his laptop and breathed a sigh of relief when it was right where he left it. Then he looked around. Every cabinet in the kitchen had been spray-painted. The words, “Have a nice day!” were everywhere. All of the power cords had been cut going to the appliances. The flat screen television had been moved close to the front door. Jim surveyed the whole condo, there was nothing missing.

“Seems like you got off lucky.” said the officer. “ Looks like we may have spooked them getting to the scene so quickly, we were just a couple of blocks from here when the call came in.”

After the officer was gone Jim and Annie sat down on the couch. Jim put his head in his hands and Annie thought he was crying. She put an arm around him and said, “It’s OK all this can be cleaned up, and the appliances can be reconnected.” Jim’s head flew up, and Annie had seen he’d been laughing, not crying. He suddenly turned serious. “Over my dead body. I didn’t do all this, (waving his hands around the room), just so they could be hooked back up.” Jim then explained how he had left the restaurant, put on the hoodie and gloves and run over to the condo. He’d then spray-painted the lenses on the closed circuit cameras, forced the door open with the crowbar and cut the power to all the appliances. He moved the television toward the door to make it look more like an attempted robbery.

“But why the smiley face and have a nice day?”

Jim began to laugh, “I hadn’t thought that far ahead and it was the only thing I could think to do.”

Prolog

Everything was cleaned up, the front door replace, the cabinets cleaned and all of the appliances reconnected. Jim moved out before this was complete and sold the condo the next week, for a loss.

About a month after he sold the condo he got a strange invitation in the mail. It was addressed to Jim Stone, former owner of condo 12. It read as follows:

As a former owner of condo #12 you are invited to a small get together of previous owner’s. Flanagan’s Pub, Friday evening at 7:00, we will have the booth in the back.

Jim thought this must be some kind of joke, but Friday night he was in front of Flanagan’s debating whether to go in or not. His curiosity got the better of him and he found the booth in the back. There were three other guys about his age sitting there with beers in front of them. They looked up at him as he said, “I’m Jim Stone and … “

“We know who you are, have a seat. You’re one of us now. We call this the Survivors of Emma Club.”

Heaven's Bouncer

 Photo by Erik Shin 

 The germ of inspiration for this story came from the song Viva La Vida by Cold Play. There is a line that says :
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name

At that point my mind began to wander and wonder what happened to all the souls that passed on before St. Peter came along, did St. Peter even want the job, and what was it like to have that awesome responsibility of being the keeper of the keys of heaven.

 

Heaven's Bouncer

You know, I never wanted to be a saint. In fact you ask most of the others that have become saints and they will tell you it's no picnic. Not only am I the patron saint of bakers, bridge builders, butchers, fishermen, harvesters and masons, I also have the dubious honor of "keeper of the keys of the kingdom of heaven". This latter distinction is the one that I will try to describe. There are really no words that can adequately convey all of the nuances of the next world, nor are there any corollaries that I can use to describe some of the situations, but I will try to use this wonderfully rich English language to its utmost.

 Imagine a plain that stretches out in all directions as far as the eye can see, a vast sea of nothingness. In the midst of the great expanse of nothing is a small group of souls, no more than a few million. They are all congregated around what for all intents and purposes is a huge set of gates. They were affixed to two rough-cut stone columns whose girth was massive. It would have taken five full-grown men reaching around one of them and then I am not sure if their fingers would have touched. The gates themselves were at least twenty feet high and half as wide each. They were made of mostly wrought iron with strings of pearls interwoven through the bars. The funniest part about the whole thing was the arch that topped the two columns. Bridging the tops of the columns was a rough-hewn arch whose face was perfectly smooth and polished, engraved in the arch was a single word, HEAVEN. That would crack me up every time I looked at it, it never got old.

 The other thing I never understood was how it worked. Let me explain, the gate was not some kind of magical portal that once you stepped through you vanished and reappeared in heaven. On the contrary, other than its size and me having the only key to that gigantic lock, (I always left it unlocked for fear of loosing the key), you can walk through it and end up exactly where you would if you had walked around it. It is more of a meta-physical gate than a physical gate, more of a rite of passage. I would have done away with it a long time ago, but the powers that be seem to think it still serves a purpose. Who am I to second-guess the Almighty!

 Before I came along it was absolute chaos outside of the gates of heaven. There were souls out there that had been milling about since the beginning of time. They had no purpose. Many who could not cope with the fact that they were dead, continued to show up at their old haunts. In fact there were quite a few that I never convinced that they were dead, most of the ghost sightings are because of this.

As with any mob, over time, there begins a stratification of classes. This group of souls was no different. Some were a nasty bit of work from the word go, and tended to bully the others. There were the righteous souls who didn't take any crap from the bullies. There were the innocents, mostly souls of children and babies, and a few adult souls that were wholly detached from the world and all of its trappings. I am not sure why they never wandered off; it was as though there was some magnetic quality that seemed to keep them all close to the gates of heaven.

 You can well imagine the mess I walked into, or maybe you can't. There were millions of souls, stretched out as far as the eye could see. There was me at the gate, the book of souls under my arm, the key to the gate in my hand. I must have been out of my mind to have accepted this position, then again I don't think it was an offer I could have refused. As I approached the gate with the key, the mob, because that was all they were to me, began to surge forward like they would rush the gate. Not knowing what to do, I held the book aloft and said in my most authoritarian voice, "No one passes through the gate unless his name is written in the book." This made them cower back in submission and I proceeded to unlock the gates. As they swung open everything seemed to be brighter and in sharper contrast. I looked for a place to lay the book down, but there was nothing. I said under my breath, "You would think there would be at least a table and chair here." No sooner than I had murmured those words I turned around to face the crowd and whacked my shin on an oak table leg, then very nearly tripped over the chair. Looking around in no particular direction I said, "Very funny!"

 I looked much as I had in life, a nose a bit too big for my face, a ruddy complexion and shoulder length gray hair. I should have looked nothing like this, being a spiritual being, but there were expectations to be met. It was sort of like when souls encountered Jesus for the first time. If they had been raise in a Caucasian church He appeared like all of the pictures they had ever seen, although he looked nothing like that in life. If fact the Sabbath which was supposed to be a day of rest and coming together to worship for the most part had become a day of moving apart. How can you get unity when you can’t even get people to agree on where to meet and how to act after you get there? But once again; I digress.

I placed the book on the well worn oak table, with all of its burn marks and utensil scars. The book was about the size of a current day newspaper but about four inches thick, I could have sworn that it was only about three inches thick when I had arrived. I began at page one and started calling out names. My theory was that one by one the souls would come forward and pass through the gates. The very first one, he had been here the longest, didn't want to go. He said he had made some new friends and wanted to stay with them until their names were called. As I had no rule book for any of this, I made the first of many executive decisions. I said, "I only said you cannot pass through the gate unless you name is in the book. Since your name is in the book you may pass through, if you want to wait and go with your friends I can see no harm in that." So the very first candidate to pass through the pearly gates refused, temporarily.

 As there is no time or space in this place, as human beings understand it, it is hard to explain some things properly. Let me just say that this calling out the names and letting people pass through the gate went on for what seemed a very long time but in reality passed by in the twinkling of an eye. It was about this time that Jesus stopped by to see how things were going. I showed him the book that had not diminished in size, but I think it had gained an inch or two. I told him how I would call the names and let them pass through the gate. He told me that his Father had sent him to talk to me because things didn't seem to be moving at quite the pace He had anticipated. I immediately got on the defensive telling Him I was doing the best I could and that I had no guidelines to work from. He said he knew and understood it was difficult, but he could help.

 He opened the book and pointed at one of the names on the page, it seemed to glow faintly while all the others just seemed flat. He said, "You see that name, it's a special case and requires special attention." I am thinking, great this will really speed things up if I have to dole out this special attention too as well as herd these souls through the gate, but I held my tongue. He continued, "All of the rest can go through en-mass, you just have to say the word and it will be so.”

" Let me get this straight I just have to deal with the special cases and the rest just pass right through without me calling their names?”

 “That's how it is, if you say the word.”

 I stood up and said, “All of the souls whose name are in the book that do not require special attention may pass unhindered through the gate from this day forward. Immediately the crowd thinned and the book shrunk down to about a half an inch. Jesus nodded His approval, and then he said " Nearly seven hundred years have passed on the earth since I left and a new prophet has come, to continue mans spiritual education, His name is Muhammad and his religion is Islam. His followers have protected the Christians and the Jews and recognize Me as Jesus the Christ. These souls are to be allowed to pass, although you may find some of them show up as special cases.

I looked down at the shrunken book and began to ask how do I deal with the special cases, but when I looked up Jesus was gone.

 It seemed my job had just become much easier and much harder at the same time.

 The stories of all the special cases would fill many volumes and would be too time consuming to tell now, so we will leave them for another time.

Found Objects - Two Crows

 

 

This story originated from a challenge within an online group I am part of. If you accepted the challenge you would receive an item in the mail. You then had 24 hours to transform that item into a story. The picture above is where my story begins. There were ultimately 24 of us who participated and the results became a book called Found Objects. 

So without further ado ....

 

Two Crows

 

Rod Serling's voice, “A study in black and white, imagine an earth devoid of color, scorched earth, and bleached bones.”

My Grandmother’s house was going to be torn down. All of the relatives had taken most anything of value. I was the sole grand kid that hadn’t had a chance to get anything. I wasn’t really interested in “getting” something as much as I just wanted to see the old place one more time before the bulldozer came.

The house that my grandfather had built at the turn of the century was on a piece of property that had been in the family for almost two-hundred years. I let myself into the house and was hit with the smells from my youth as well as the stale smell of disuse. I went from room to room, all pretty bare now. I pulled a scrap of peeling wall paper down and stuck it in my pocket as my souvenir of the place. As I was about to go I notice the wood stove in the corner and thought about it for a moment. I never remembered it being used. I went over to it and opened the door thinking in the back of my mind what a great place to hide something in plain sight. I was disappointed though, just a few cobwebs. Then I pulled out the clean out tray, the black metal box that catches the ashes and bit of charcoal and anything that won’t burn.

To my surprise there were two small skeletons amongst the pile of ash and charcoal and a couple of nails. My mind began to do mental gymnastics, how had they gotten in there. If they came down the chimney, then surely there would be feathers as well as bones. Had they been burned in an armload of wood? If so how had they escaped the fire and not burned up. I was fascinated and repulsed at the same time, but for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. I’d been staring so long, I thought I saw one of them twitch. I took a picture of it with my cell phone and then I found some old newspapers and carefully packed it up. I wanted it to make its way back to my Dad so I could ask him a couple of questions.

I showed the picture to Dad and he said he had no idea. Then I brought out the actual artifacts and I saw something in his eyes for the briefest instant and then it was gone. Somehow I knew there was something not quite right about this and I continued to badger him until he broke down.

The story he told me was as strange as they get.

“The land that your Grandmother’s house sat on once belonged to the Indians and it seems our family didn’t acquire it under the best terms. The Chief of the tribe didn’t want anyone building in that area because it was supposed to be sacred and our ancestor (I guess it must have been your Great-Great Grandfather) was offered some land further away. Well further away needed more clearing and wasn’t as close to the spring. So he ignored the chief and began to build but it was slow going. First the mule he was using to drag logs to the homestead went lame and was several weeks of doctoring before he was good to work again. After the mule was well enough to work some deer got into the corn field and your Great-Great Grandfather got his rifle to scatter them and maybe get some venison for the winter. He shot into the cornfield and the deer scattered but he saw one go down. When he went to retrieve it, there lay his mule. At that point the cabin came to a standstill, but he finished it off as best he could with saplings to make a lean-to.”

“About this time the Chief sent one of the shaman to speak to the crazy white man and to explain that all of the bad luck that had befallen him was because of where he was building. Great granddad shooed him off and for good measure threw a rock at his retreating form. Well the bad luck continued and the rock hit the shaman in the back of the head and he collapsed on the spot. Well Great-Great granddad didn’t want any trouble from the tribe so he rushed over to help the man only to find him dead. He dragged the body to the river and threw it in knowing it would be carried downstream.

“A couple of days later as he was working on the lean-to he noticed another Indian coming up the path. To his shock and horror, it was the shaman he’d killed a couple of days earlier. He was so distraught he picked up his rifle and shot at him thinking it was a ghost. He struck the man in the chest and he collapsed dead on the path. Now my Great-Great Grandfather disposed of this body the same way as the last.”

“He left the homestead as it was and made his way back to town where he worked for a couple of years as the blacksmith’s apprentice. He’d saved up enough money to get a mule and some more supplies and he made his way back to the homestead, but this time he moved further down where the chief had suggested. He built his cabin and later your Grand-dad built this house on the same property, the cabin was used for storage for a while and then they pulled it down.”

“Every year on the anniversary of killing that second Indian, two crows would show up and spend the day pecking at the windows of the cabin. This went on until your Great-Great Grandfather died. We later found out that the tribe had two shamans and they were twins. It’s no wonder he thought he was seeing a ghost. Your Grandmother told me this story. Ever since then two crows would show up from time to time and start pecking on the windows. Every time they did somebody in the house would die within a couple of days. Your Grandmother always said they were a bad omen and she would kill them if she could. She tried poison bird seed, shooting them with bird shot, nothing phased them. She had become obsessed toward the end since she was the only one living in the house now. She’d told me once the only way to get rid of them was to burn them and that she would do it if it was the last thing she did. So the best I can figure is they showed up and somehow your Grand Mother caught them. Maybe she nailed them to a chunk of wood so they couldn’t get away. I guess she put them in the wood stove and burned them up and then she died in her sleep. Until you went there and looked in the wood stove, nobody but your Grand Mother knew they were there. I would bury them somewhere and try to forget that you ever saw them.”

 

 

Jinxed

 

We are going to try something a bit different this week, I did a couple of streams on Twitch a while back reading some of the stories from my  book Dead People From the Attic 

Here is Jinxed, I hope you like it.

Phone to Heaven

 Alas, out of a field of nearly 1300 for Furious Fiction March 2021 I did not win, nor make the short nor the long list. There is always next month.

These were the complete criteria for March:

500 words or fewer.

Each story had to include the pictured setting (below) at some point.
Each story had to include the following “MAR-” words: MARKET, MARBLE, MARVELOUS, MARSHMALLOW.
Each story’s final sentence had to contain dialogue – i.e. someone speaking.

Phone to Heaven

Henry’s mother died three years ago. He’d had a hard time coming to grips with it. He’d wake up in the morning and then have the sudden realization that his mother was no long around and he’d feel this tremendous burden. He went through the motions of daily life like an automaton. He had but one goal now and that was to contact his mother and tell her he loved her. Something he’d never done in her lifetime.

Henry tried psychics and séances, but despite all of their marvelous trickery he was never convinced. After numerous attempts he gave up. Henry had nearly exhausted every possibility when he heard about a psychic fair happening the day before his birthday. It was about a two hour drive, but he was determined to try everything.

The day was brilliant and the tents had banners fluttering, the air was festive, but Henry felt troubled. There were palm readers, crystal worker, aura readers, tarot card readers, what ever you wanted in abundance. Henry couldn’t believe there was such a large market of people like this.

He made the circuit seeing what the offerings were. He’d come to the conclusion they were all fake. At the far edge of the fairgrounds there was a tent that had seen better days, it was a bit faded and you could see where it had been patched here and there. This tent intrigued Henry, it didn’t have the glitz of the rest of the fair. Could he have stumbled on the real deal?

As he approached the tent a bent figure emerged. She seemed to be well into her eighties, but still had a spring in her step. She beckoned Henry in. The inside was just a shabby as the outside with a small round table and chairs in the center with a threadbare green velvet tablecloth. It was missing some of it’s tassels.

Henry sat down. She asked to see his palm. Reluctantly he presented his hand. She examined it, then, looked at it again and said, “You are seeking a loved one who has passed on. I may be able to help you.”

Henry waited, expecting an upfront fee.

She spoke again, “About two hours south of here is a small fishing village. There is an old red Phone booth there. You can call your loved one from there. You owe me nothing, unless it works out.”

Weird, no charge. Was she legit? It was too late today for another two hour trip. He’d have to postpone it till tomorrow, his birthday.

There it was just like she said it would be, but there was a woman on the phone. She came out of the booth smiling but with tears running down her cheeks. He approached the booth with trepidation. Opening the door his olfactory senses were overwhelmed by the smell of a fresh baked chocolate marble cake with marshmallow icing, his favorite birthday cake. He lifted the receiver and dropped in a coin. “Hello, Mom?”