The Elect, the beginning, post 5 of 8: ROTC

November 9, 2015October 31, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The ROTC freshman class was designed to weed out the ranks. The sophomore class had fifteen and the upper class had just twelve juniors and seniors combined. The freshmen class had twenty-three.

Weeding out the ranks was one of Captain Driver’s innovations. Emily had not met Captain Driver yet, but she spent two weeks in the summer at a kind of boot camp. Thus the short hair. Yes, she put a red streak in it after camp, but that would go when her hair got cut again. Meanwhile, she heard that Captain Driver could be hard but fair. An expert at readiness training, he served a tour with the 82^nd Airborne Division in his youth. She also heard he was not a fan of women in the ranks, but she would deal with that if it came up.

Emily did ROTC the last two years in high school, so she knew the drill. She still played soccer then, but had given up on most other sports. She felt an attraction instead to the military and knew she could be good at it. Whether it went further than a couple years of ROTC at the university remained to be seen. She honestly felt interested in nursing.

Getting into formation in that big, echo-filled gymnasium was not a breeze, but not too bad for a first day. Emily landed in the front row, of course, with the only other woman, Karyn. The class had twenty-one young men, but the odds were worse than biology. More than likely, half would not return for their sophomore year. They stood at attention while Captain Driver introduced his hard, no-nonsense attitude, and then introduced his staff. “Our senior representative is Lieutenant Terrence Williams who most of you will know as tight end for our very successful football team, and our junior is Sergeant Carl Baker. You will take their orders like you take mine. Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes sir.”

Emily stole a glance at the big tight end. He stared right at her while Carl kept his eyes on Karyn. Unfortunately, the captain caught her eye movement, like he just waited for one of the women to mess up.

“Soldier!” He shouted and came right up to her face. Actually, he looked down at her, as most of the people there would. “Is there something about my officers I should know?”

“Sir, no sir.”

The captain waved to the two men and they stepped up while he never turned his eyes from staring down at his captive. Emily kept her eyes straight-ahead, as she should, and only saw Williams and Baker move into her peripheral vision. They all towered over her and all had to be over six feet. Lieutenant Williams alone had to be six-three or bigger.

“You are a little girl.” Captain Driver frowned at her. He had to choose his words so carefully. She stood five-six which might not exactly be small for a woman, though not exactly big, either. Karyn stood more like five-ten, and was big besides—not fat, but built more like an athlete than a ballerina.

“You would not even make a tiny, little blip on a radar screen,” the captain went on and lifted his hand to pinch his finger in her sight so she could see how small she was. “You need to listen real good to this. You will receive no special treatment in this command. You will maintain discipline at all times. You will receive no special favors for being a little blip on the radar screen so do not ask for any. You will keep up with the men at all times and in all levels or you will be out. Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes sir.”

Captain Driver shifted his eyes at last to look at Karyn. Emily felt the relief from the pressure but wondered briefly if there might be a hole in the top of her head. “And is that clear to you soldier?”

“Sir, yes sir.” Karyn’s answer came out clear and crisp. She practiced that all summer.

“Well, in that case you two can be our color guard today.” He backed up and the others backed up with him. “Fall out and fetch the flags.” He looked toward the end of the room. Emily ran to the American flag. Karen got the regimental flag, which was just the university flag with ROTC attached. Carl stepped out from the group.

“Right here.” He pointed to the place beside him. “Hustle, hustle.” The girls ran and fortunately neither tripped nor touched their flags to the ground. That may have been what the officers looked for, but the girls were careful and held their flags out at the correct angle as they had been taught over the summer, so Captain Driver had no reason to complain.

Lieutenant Williams brought the company to attention to salute the flags while Carl played a recording of a very slow and drawn out version of the Star Spangled Banner. When the song finished, Captain Driver made the girls remain in place, the flags at a thirty-degree angle, while the rest of the company stood at ease.

“Lieutenant Williams and Sergeant Baker will remain behind. You two need to hold those flags until told to stop. The rest of you men follow me.” The captain jogged out of the building and the twenty-one sort of bunched up at the door but eventually made it outside. Once they left, Terrence and Carl got out two folding chairs, a card table and a deck of cards. Carl also got the soft drinks. They ignored the girls and passed only quiet whispers between them.

After about five more minutes, Karyn wanted to complain. Her arms were not built to hold steady like that for so long. The flag had not been especially heavy at first but it grew heavier by the second. She finally dared a whisper.

“You all right?”

Emily thought about it. She had gotten herself into a place, mentally, where she hardly felt the weight. She supposed it could be something like a meditative trance. She did not know she could do that, exactly, but as with many things lately, she could look back at high school and see where the seeds had been planted.

“Fine,” she said. “For now.” She did not want Karyn to feel bad if she started to feel the strain.

“I bet you can hold it a long time.”

“What?”

“I heard you took out two men with knives.”

Emily shouted and turned her head. “What?” Who had not heard? She snapped back to attention, but too late.

“One demerit,” Lieutenant Williams said with a click of his tongue.

“Permission to speak, sir.” Karyn spoke right up.

“Granted.” The Lieutenant said as he laid down a card.

“I should get the demerit, sir. I provoked her.”

Carl reached out to the Lieutenant and shook his head. Lieutenant Williams spoke. “Okay, no demerits, only don’t let it happen again.”

“Permission to speak, sir.” Karyn had something more to say.

“What?” The word sounded sharp.

“Where has the rest of the company been taken?”

Lieutenant Williams smiled to himself while Carl spoke. “They have gone to the obstacle course to practice. Don’t worry, you will get a chance at the time trials.”

“Of course, you won’t have the practice so it will be hard for you to do well, but I can’t help that,” Lieutenant Williams said. His smile suggested that he thought the girls not doing well was a good idea.

“Permission to speak freely, sir.” Emily felt the urge to counter that smile.

“What?” The word sounded curious.

“I’ll set the course record, sir.”

Carl laughed, and so did Lieutenant Williams. Then Lieutenant Williams raised an eyebrow, wondering if she might do that very thing.

An hour later, when the troops returned, Karyn had long since given up and sat quietly on the bench. She had put her flag back and taken her demerits with pride. They said she about beat the record. Emily, of course, remained in place at attention, her flag held at just the right angle. Captain Driver looked dumbfounded. He had to call Emily twice to get her attention and on the second call, Lieutenant Williams started to slap her. Emily caught and stopped the man’s hand cold with her own hand. Only one hand remained on the flag, but it never wavered.

“Are we done now?” she asked, which did not come out sounding very military, but she only got one reaction from the captain.

“We are done.”

Emily put her flag back, went into the women’s locker room, showered, changed, and walked slowly back to her room. Her arms ached all the way through her shoulders, down her back to her feet. She had a lot to think about. Just exactly what all might be involved in being one of the elect?

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Note: If you missed the first posts in this story, are starting late, or have just discovered the work, the first 4 posts are an easy find. Look under recent posts and you will find parts 1, 2, 3, and 4 listed as clickable links. Happy reading

The Elect, the beginning, post 4 of 8: It’s All About Biology

November 5, 2015October 31, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Hello neighbor.”

Emily looked up as Maria sat down beside her. Maria lived in the next room over in the dorm with Gloria Sanchez who liked to play dance music at two in the morning. All things considered, Emily decided Jessica might not be such a bad roommate.

“Where’s Jessica?” Maria spoke of the devil.

“Probably in nail painting 101. I think she is majoring in football players.”

Maria smiled. “I’m majoring in biology and thinking about medical school. I did AP Bio in high school, but I hear this class is a bitch.” She wiggled her glasses and got out her laptop.

“Honors Bio. I’m thinking about nursing.” Emily had never associated the name Maria with the word nerd before.

Maria shook her head. “Why nurse when you can doctor?”

“Doctoring doesn’t pay these days. Haven’t you heard? All of the money is in nursing.” Emily sat up when a woman came into the room and placed a soft briefcase on the front table. Emily had been slouching and decided she ought to consider her first impression. “I thought Professor Hilde was a man.” She ran her hand once through her short black hair.

“He is. He’s over there.” Maria pointed and Emily saw an old man with metal forearm crutches who dragged his feet to a chair where he could sit, comfortably. “The instructor is Morgan Granger, Hilde’s teaching assistant. I heard about her. She is hell frozen over.”

“That makes my day.” Emily could not avoid the sarcasm and that time she did not feel the least bit guilty about it.

“You could beat her up, maybe?” Emily looked and saw Maria staring at her. “I heard. Jessica.” Maria did not have to say more. Emily rolled her eyes and wondered who else Jessica told.

“All right people, listen up.” Ms Granger spoke up and paced a little while the auditorium style room quieted. There had to be a hundred students in that class. When she had everyone’s attention, she turned and smiled for the group. It looked to Emily like an unnatural occurrence on the woman’s face and Emily feared it might injure the woman. “I look forward to the day when I get to put a big, fat “F” on a third of your final grade reports.”

“Morgan,” Professor Hilde coughed and the woman took a few steps in his direction, which brought her back to the center of the room.

“If you are serious about biology and do the work, there is no reason you should not pass this course. The truth is every year about a third of the students in freshman biology do not belong here and end up majoring in Art History or something else. I recommend first of all that you consider this. You have until the end of next week to alter your course schedule.” She waved the paper in her hand, which appeared to be the class roster. “After that, it will be too late.” That smile flashed again across that face, but this time Emily thought she saw a bit of evil glee in it.

“Ready or not,” she whispered and began to slouch again.

“Yes,” the woman said and looked right at Emily. She glanced at the paper in her hand and came right back to Emily. “Please stand up.” Emily got up slowly and pulled her shirt down in the process. She looked around the room to see all eyes on her before she looked back at the woman up front. “Your name?”

“Emily Hudson.” Emily could not help the rise in her voice at the end of her name. It reflected her question as to why this woman decided to pick on her, but the woman made a joke of it at Emily’s expense.

“You don’t sound too certain about that.” Some of the room snickered at the old joke. “So tell me, Emily. Why are you here?”

Something rebellious and stubborn rose up in Emily and she responded sharply. “I am a biology major. I am going into nursing. And I am here to learn what you have to teach.” She did not say, “if anything,” but it was strongly implied. Ms Granger clearly did not like the answer. The room fell completely silent except for a brief guffaw from Professor Hilde, which he quickly stifled as he covered his mouth.

Ms Granger picked up a pen and made a quick note on her sheet before she spoke again. “I will teach plenty. The learning it is up to you.” Emily started to sit down but paused when the woman spoke again. “Emily Hudson.” The woman looked right at her before she let her eyes wander around the room. “I heard. I may call on your services if any of these students start acting up or get out of line.” Emily felt stunned to stillness. Everyone looked at her again and a few of them grinned. She wondered who had not heard. “You can sit down.” Ms Granger finished and pulled a stack of papers out of her briefcase.

Emily sat and thought, so much for making a good first impression.

“The syllabus,” Ms Granger announced and began to pass them out.

As soon as the class ended, Emily found two girls at her elbow. They had a flyer. She vaguely recognized them from the dorm and thought they might have the room down at the end of the hall. “Mindy?” That sounded right. Mindy was supposed to be some whiz-kid genius.

“And Connie,” Connie said. “We wanted to invite you to our group. We are starting a club and we think you would be a great member.” Mindy nodded when Connie looked at her. Emily remembered when she met Mindy. She thought of Mindy as the shy and quiet type, a bit of a wallflower. Connie apparently came prepared to make up for it with an annoying, assertive personality.

“You really need to come,” Connie went on. “We are going to meet Friday evening in the downstairs lounge in the dorm. If we get a good turnout, we already have plans to apply for room time in the campus center.” She stuffed a piece of paper in Emily’s hand and added an afterthought for a Maria. “You can come too.” She turned to Mindy. “Come on.” As a parting word Connie said, “See you there.”

Maria leaned in, already peeking when Emily unwrinkled the paper. The group called themselves the Daughters of the Amazon. Maria took the paper and read as they walked. “Daughters of the Amazon are like-minded sisters who are willing to stand up and fight for fairness, justice, and the opportunity for all women to achieve greatness and success in this world ruled by men. We stand against the patriarchic thinking that dominates our culture and keeps women oppressed…” Emily did not hear much more. Something itched in the back of her mind, but out of respect, she waited until they reached the outside walk and Maria finished reading.

“The problem is, I don’t hate men,” Emily said. At that point, she had said nothing to anyone about being one of the elect, whatever that meant. Detective Schromer’s attitude suggested that it should not necessarily be public knowledge. But if what the detective said was true, about her being elected to fight, Emily imagined being mixed up with an Amazon group might not be the best idea.

“I didn’t read anything about hating men,” Maria responded honestly, but Emily stopped walking until she remembered what troubled her. She had an appointment to see her academic advisor after class. She said as much and turned back toward the science building steps but stopped again as a young man ran up.

“Hey, Maria.” The guy had no eyes for Emily.

Maria made the introduction. “Owen, Emily. Emily, Owen.”

“Hi,” Owen said the obligatory word before his eyes went right back to Maria. “Coffee?”

“Chai latte,” Maria responded and turned again to Emily. “Owen is a sophomore. We both have Doctor Zimmer as advisor.”

“Zimmer?”

“Bio-engineering,” Owen said. “Though I really should be with Hilde. Bio-chemistry.”

“Owen is looking at medical school as well.”

“I need to go,” Emily said and felt glad to see that Maria did not hate men either. “I need to go see my advisor. I got Swenson, the department head.”

“Luck,” Maria said, but Owen said nothing and had already turned Maria toward the student center.

By the time Emily got back up to the second floor offices, she felt anxious about being late. She did not read the signs well and opened a door without knocking. She found a young man rifling through some books on the shelf.

“Can I help you?” He turned to face her. Neither said a word for a good, long pause. The view was enough. Emily had to shake herself awake.

“Oh, I’m looking for Ms. Swenson’s office.”

The young man smiled and Emily felt warm all over. “Next door,” he said.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Emily responded, though she could not get her feet to move.

“No problem. I’m just waiting for Doctor Zimmer. I’m Pierce Davis. I’m his TA.”

A graduate student, Emily thought. “I’m Emily Hudson, the freshman who is easily lost.”

“I could help you find your way.” Pierce hardly masked any of the innuendo in that statement. Emily felt her face redden at her thoughts when an older man barged rudely into the room.

“What is this?”

“She came here looking for Professor Swenson’s office,” Pierce spoke up for her.

“Next door. Get out.” Doctor Zimmer went beyond rude. Emily did not argue. She backed out but stole one more glance at Pierce as she did. His face seemed to apologize and she hoped hers said, “That’s okay. Lovely to meet you.” She closed the door and paused to think, “I mean it was wonderful meeting you.”

After a deep breath or two she knocked on the next door and only opened it when she heard the words, “Come in.” She sat quietly as the words continued. “Emily Hudson. You are late. I was beginning to wonder if you were coming.”

“Yes. I apologize. I went next door by mistake. I talked with Pierce, er, Mister Davis.” Emily fought it, but she could not avoid thinking Emily Davis, and then she went further to think Pierce and Emily Davis. She refused, however, to imagine names for the children.

Ms. Swenson stared at her. “You and half the women on campus. Take my advice and avoid him. I am your advisor, you know.” Emily just rolled her eyes as if to say it was not like that, even though it was exactly like that. “So tell me about Biology 101.”

Emily opened her eyes wide and sat up straight. “I did not make a good first impression.”

“I heard.”

God! Emily wondered how news could travel so fast around campus. “Maybe I should change to Art History and take biology in the spring with you?”

“Not by my advice.” Ms. Swenson looked down at Emily’s file. “I’ll admit that Morgan Granger can be hard, unbending and pulls no punches, but you can learn a lot from her.” Emily sighed and spent the next five minutes hearing all about how she had to stick with what she had and do her best. Then she got dismissed.

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Be sure and return next Monday (T, W, and Th) for the second half of The Elect, the beginning episode. If you miss a post, you can always find it on the side of the blog under the heading “recent posts”. In fact, you can wait until Thursday (F, Sat, or Sun) if you like and read all 4 posts together in one sitting. It is up to you.

After this first episode, all 22 of the regular episodes (chapters in this serialized novel) will be posted in 4 posts (M, T, W and Th) over a single week. Again, you are welcome to wait until Thursday (F, Sat, or Sun) if you want to read the entire episode in one sitting.

Thus far, Emily has been told she is an elect and show some signs of unnatural abilities, but she is not sure what being an elect means. She has to puzzle out what she can. She may not have much time. Something is happening in and around the university campus that has Detective Lisa worried…

The Elect, the beginning, post 3 of 8: The Police Too

November 4, 2015October 31, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The ride to the police station did not take long and it was not entirely uncomfortable. The officers checked in with Mitzy, the woman at the front desk, before they took the girls to separate rooms. Emily had to wait and sit at a table with four chairs in an otherwise empty room. The room had a mirror, which had to be the obligatory see through glass from the other side. The room also had a window, but the blind was down and closed, and the sill looked so dirty she dared not look at the glass.

Emily ran her hand through her short hair more than once. She twice examined her poor excuse for nails. She drummed her fingers for a while. Finally, she retrieved her English book, the bag having been checked first, and she read until someone came.

A woman, maybe thirty-five, reddish-brown hair, green eyes, and as tall as Emily at maybe five-six stepped into the room. She wore a business suit, gray, with a blue top, and shoes that looked like practical nurse’s shoes, which were probably a necessity for a cop. The man who followed looked about the same age as the woman, but he was brown, like someone from the near east. The woman introduced him as Ashish Mousad and Emily tried not to stare, but the man kept looking at her dumbly, like Tom the football player, or maybe like someone trying to see her insides.

“Family’s from Kashmir. I’m third generation,” the man said. Emily had no idea what that meant, but that was not why she returned the stare. Mister Mousad’s bulbous nose seemed far too big for the rest of his face, though not necessarily too big for his round middle. She turned her eyes away as the woman spoke, and Emily became aware that the woman had been watching her the whole time, even as she stared at the man.

“I’m Detective Lisa Schromer. Do you mind if I sit?” The man leaned his bulk against the dirty windowsill.

Emily shrugged and closed her book. She pointed to the seat opposite. “It’s your jail.”

The detective smiled, sat and shook her head. “You are not in jail and will not be going to jail. I came to talk. That’s all.” Emily said nothing. She might be willing to listen. It took her mind off of thinking about what she had done.

“You are Emily Hudson?” Emily nodded. “Freshman at the university? From Columbus Ohio?” Emily nodded again. They got that much from her driver’s license. “So tell me, when in high school did you realize you were too strong to be an ordinary girl?”

“What?”

Mister Mousad pulled a little notepad from a pocket and spoke up. “You knocked a big man to his back with one kick. You grabbed the second man and made him stab himself with his own knife. Then you walked to the first man and kicked him to get him to turn around so you could knock his lights out with one punch.”

Emily shook her head. “It wasn’t like that.” The woman detective raised an eyebrow. “I mean it was not as easy as you make it sound.”

“So when in high school?”

“It was middle school.” Emily paused to think. Any number of high school incidents passed through her mind. They mostly had to do with athletics, and mostly surprised her as much as anyone, but she never did anything like this. “I was the homerun queen on the eighth grade softball team.”

The woman nodded. “Great speed, dexterity, coordination and agility. As strong as any man.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Emily started to interrupt but held her tongue when the woman gave her a hard look.

“An uncanny ability with whatever weapon comes to hand, but just as tough without weapons. Hard to injure or damage and quick to heal. Given to strategic and tactical thinking, always several steps ahead. Great energy, perseverance, stamina, courage…”

“Wait a minute. How do you know all that?” Emily’s tone of voice said she did not believe it, or did not want to believe it.

“You are one of the elect, called to defend the people and the community in time of need, the warrior woman. You are the one in a million.” The detective fell silent and Emily looked at her hands and poor excuse for nails. The man by the window put his notepad away and pulled out a handkerchief to honk that big nose of his.

“What does that mean?” Emily asked at last.

“Every time a girl is born there is a one in a million chance she will be elected. She must have a strong mind and a pure heart.”

“Well, I haven’t got a pure heart.”

“Do you know what is right and wrong? Can you distinguish between good and evil?”

“Yes,” she reluctantly admitted. “But that does not mean I always do what is right.” Emily leaned back and felt a bit rebellious at that moment. She was not sure she wanted to be elected, whatever that was. “Besides, how do you know I got elected? I never voted for me.”

“Not that kind of election. Called to be a champion for the people might be a better way to put it.”

“Called by whom?” Emily backed off in her mind, but felt terribly curious at the same time.

“Do you know the concept of the woman warrior?” Emily nodded slowly. “Well, it isn’t a myth,” the detective finished the thought and let that sit in the air for a few seconds before she explained. “It begins sometime after the girl becomes a woman, though you won’t reach your full strength and potential until you are between eighteen and twenty-one.”

“I’m eighteen. Woman mature faster.” Emily meant it as a joke, but it came out as sarcasm and she immediately felt guilty about it. She knew this was serious business.

“The elect are only women,” the detective continued. “They say in the beginning, when the men went out on the hunt for days at a time, the ancient council of goddesses chose one woman and empowered her to protect and defend her home and community. You are simply the latest in a long line of warrior women dating back to the dawn of history. If you have read your mythology, you should know about Atalanta and Camilla. If you know your history, you should know about Queen Boudica and Zenobia of Palmyra. Surely you have heard of Joan of Arc. Of course, most of the elect have deliberately avoided fame, and Joan is a good example why. I understand Electra was glad to let her brother Orestes take all the credit. But the truth is, most women in history probably never knew they were elect. They were never needed, thank God.”

“How many elect are there?”

“Well, one in a million, but that is apocryphal. It may be more like one in ten million people, but at a guess I would say some three thousand women around the world right now are called to champion their people.”

“And you?”

“I never voted for me, either.”

Emily paused to take a breath. “Looks like I won’t get the chance to be anonymous.”

“Looks like,” Detective Schromer agreed. “But listen, there is something happening on the campus and it is not good. We have only hints and rumors at this point, but I hope you will be willing to watch for me. You are sensitive to danger, especially sensitive to unnatural danger, and empowered to meet it head on. It is a gift. You are special.”

Emily found herself clutching and squeezing her own hands as she listened. She resonated with everything being said, like something deep down inside of her confirmed it all, but at the same time, she felt confused again. She did not know how to take what she had been told. Then she heard something that undeniably touched her.

“The two men you injured will both survive,” Ashish reported.

Emily wept.

Detective Schromer came around the table and helped Emily to her feet. She helped Emily put her book back in her book-bag, and comforted her as they walked to the door. All Emily wanted to do was cry, but when they got to the door, Emily stood up straight and wiped her eyes as well as she could. The woman detective got her attention once more.

“Take my card.” She put a business card in Emily’s book-bag. “There have been several incidents at the university, young as the school year is. Hopefully your action will put an end to it, but just in case, if something comes up, call me.”

Emily looked at the woman as if for the first time and saw something genuine and caring in those green eyes. She nodded, stepped out of the room and found Jessica waiting for her. Two young policemen hovered over the girl, shared a laugh, and Jessica had some coffee.

The Elect, the beginning, post 2 of 8: The Library Incident

November 3, 2015October 31, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“So, what’s his name?” Emily felt curious, but not really interested.

“Thomas.” Jessica looked back at the library table where the young man looked up and waved. She smiled.

“And he is in Freshman English?” Emily picked her book-bag up from the ground for the tenth time and tried once again to make the strap stay on her chair. The thought crossed her mind that one definition of insanity involved doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different outcome.

“No.” Jessica sat up but made no effort to open her book. “He’s a sophomore, and on the football team.”

Emily looked up from her book. Apparently, Jessica went for football players. “I thought you had a boyfriend back home.”

“But I’m not at home,” Jessica said with a straight, albeit blonde face. “Besides, I want to enjoy the full college experience.” She tossed her hair back and snuck another look at Thomas.

Emily nodded and ran a hand through her short black locks. She had a boys’ cut, left over from ROTC summer camp. If she did not have a Mohawk red streak in it, she figured her hair would have no character at all. “But it has only been five days,” she said, and she thought living a whole year with this roommate would not be easy.

Jessica looked at her long nails before she slammed her hand down on her book. “First day of classes and we already have homework. It’s unnatural.”

Emily looked at the girl’s hand on the book and thought, at least that was a step in the right direction. Then she examined her own short, black painted nails and shook her head, sadly. “I’m going back.” She picked up her book-bag from the floor, slipped her English book into the bag, and stood. Jessica mirrored her, but with a glance to be sure Thomas watched her leave. Emily noticed and said quietly, “grumble, grumble.” She did not think she could put her feelings into words, exactly.

The library door closed softly behind them with the sound of a shush. The university campus spread out before them like a gray world punctuated by lamps here and there along the paths. Emily looked up once, but could not see the stars because of the library glare. She might be a foolish freshman to walk across campus in the dark, but she had Jessica for company, such as it was, and the dorm was not far. Trenton, New Jersey might not be the safest city in America, but New Jersey State University had a good safety reputation, as far as she knew.

“Coffee?” Jessica made the suggestion while she tugged on her too short skirt. Emily put her hand in the pocket of her black slacks, found the two dollars she needed for laundry and shook her head.

“I need to rest.” She honestly felt it important to stay on a good schedule, at least at first.

“Well, I can use some,” Jessica insisted.

Emily hesitated before she spoke. “Can’t. I’ll see you back at the room.”

Jessica also looked ready to say something more, but declined. She turned without a word and headed toward the student center. Emily watched for a moment before she turned to her own path. She took two whole steps before she heard a stifled scream come from Jessica’s direction. She did not hesitate. She ran toward the sound.

Two men had Jessica beside a tree. One had her from behind and had a hand over her mouth. The other threatened her with a knife. Emily dropped her book-bag and without a second thought, she leapt. Both feet struck the ribs of the man holding Jessica. He let go and crashed to the brick walkway. Jessica spun around twice at her sudden release. Emily landed upright on the brick walk. The man with the knife lashed out, but Emily caught his hand, turned around so the hand had to follow and that man found his own knife shoved deep into his own gut.

Jessica screamed, more than once.

The one on the ground tried to rise, but Emily landed right there. She kicked him in the ribs again before he could stand. He spun around, red faced and spitting. Emily simply made a fist and hit the man in the jaw as hard as she could. His head spun and he fell back to hit his head hard on the bricks. He would not get up again for a while.

Emily rushed to Jessica. “Are you all right?” Jessica could hardly stop screaming as Thomas and his football friend ran up. Jessica immediately turned to the boy. Thomas stared and looked dumb before he slid his arms around the girl. The other young man examined the two disabled men. He gave Emily a curious look since Jessica seemed occupied. With that look, what Emily did suddenly caught up with her and she felt overwhelmed. Her only grace was that it all felt instinctive in a way, as if she did all that without having to think too hard. She had no idea how that might be.

“ROTC.” It was the only thing she could think to say.

“Lieutenant Terrance J. Williams,” the young man responded. “I’ll look forward to seeing you Thursday afternoon.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Emily responded, but her mind was not on her words. She looked at the man, bleeding terribly from the knife in his middle. He used the tree to hold himself to his knees. She felt sick.

“I called 9-1-1,” one of the newcomers reported.

“I called campus police.”

“I called the ambulance.”

The campus police arrived first. Just one older African-American man showed up, in a disheveled blue shirt, gray tie, police looking pants, and a jacket that had the University logo and University Police blazoned on it. “Everybody back away,” he yelled, and waved his arm like a traffic cop. “Nothing to see here. Go on about your business.” He took in the two men on the ground. “What the hell happened here?”

“Ask her, Bernie.” Lieutenant Williams pointed at Emily. Emily looked up and felt very confused right then about what exactly happened.

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” Bernie turned to the lieutenant. “Does Coach know you are still out this late?” The campus cop temporarily forgot about the ones on the ground.

“Library?” Lieutenant Williams pointed, as if that explained it all. “Come on Tom, if you can tear yourself away.” Tom let go of Jessica and moved. He followed the lieutenant toward the student center, and the campus cop had one more thing to say.

“Football!” He shrugged before he turned to Emily. “So what happened here?” The man on the walkway chose that moment to groan and put a hand to his jaw, and then to the back of his head where Emily feared the man might be bleeding. Emily tensed up, tried to make sense of what she did and began to cry. Jessica, already into a good cry, reached for Emily, now that Thomas had gone.

“She saved my life.” Jessica managed that much before the women hugged and cried on each other’s shoulders. Emily let her emotions flow, but she could not help the thoughts that came into her mind. She thought that Jessica was three inches taller to begin with, at maybe five-nine, and the pumps added another two inches. She was being soaked from above. The second thought was that Jessica had on too much makeup and now it was running all over her favorite purple shirt. It was going to be a bitch to get it out.

To his credit, Bernie the campus cop did not press the issue. He went to the man who had somehow pulled out the knife and collapsed to his seat. The man still leaned heavily on the tree. “Hey! This man is bleeding,” Bernie noticed.

The regular police roared up on the nearby street and came running. Everyone backed up for real. The ambulance came right up the walkway from the student center, and Emily pulled herself together enough to pull Jessica out of the way. She had no illusion that she could simply melt into the crowd and go unnoticed, but she thought at least they could give the medical people some room to work.

Emily felt glad when she saw the man rise from the walkway, and with help, take a seat in the back of the ambulance. She felt grim when they carried the other one out on a stretcher, but by then there were too many police officers around and Emily knew she and Jessica would have to go for a ride and give a statement.

“Not the best way to stay on schedule,” she mumbled as Jessica backed up to wipe her eyes. “Maybe they have coffee at the police station—oh but Thomas won’t be there.” Jessica wiped the drip from her nose and let out the littlest laugh and smile. Clearly, that was exactly what Jessica had been thinking.

The Elect, Freshman Year, the beginning chapter/episode, post 1 of 8

November 2, 2015October 31, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Two men, a bit old for students but a bit young for professors, walked the campus path in the dark. They avoided the lamps set here and there along the way, coming up from the campus center toward the classroom buildings. They stopped by a big, old tree that still had all of its summer leaves. It provided plenty of cover to shroud the ground with darkness.

“That building is the library,” the big one said. “We should find what we are looking for there.” He paused to watch his friend pull a knife and begin to clean beneath his fingernails. “You would think these days these college kids would be smart enough to not walk alone in the dark. But it is the beginning of the school year and there are stupid freshmen everywhere.”

The man with the knife stopped long enough to nod and smile.

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The Elect, Freshman Year is a serialized novel, to use the classic term, but neatly divided into chapter/episodes like a television show. It is jam packed and fast paced with an emphasis on mystery, intrigue and action ready for film. There are quite a number of characters best imagined on film where they would be easy to remember by matching a face with a name. All you really need to remember, as a reader, are the three elect, Emily (with her college friends), Detective Lisa, and young Latasha. Everyone else is either family (mom, dad, brother), co-worker (detective, police officer, teacher) or antagonist of some sort. Oh, and then there is Heinrich…

The elect are one in a million adult women, maybe one in ten million people. They are women chosen at birth and empowered from ancient days by the goddesses of old, originally, to protect and defend the home when the men went away to hunt or to war. Emily Hudson is an elect who has no idea how gifted she is until she arrives at New Jersey State University, in Trenton, and meets another elect—a police Detective, Lisa. Together they find a third, Latasha, a local high school freshman, and realize that three elect in the same community, maybe even three in the same state, defies all odds. There are not that many elect in the whole world. Then again, maybe three together is by some divine design, because there are things going on in Trenton and around the university that will take every gift they have to give, and then some.

The pilot episode will post (M, T, W, Th) over the first two weeks in November 2015. After that, each of the 22 episodes (chapters) will post weekly (M, T, W and Th) over the following 22 weeks. If you wait until Thursday, you will find all of the posts for the given episode on the right side of the blog under “recent posts”. Some might want to wait until Friday, or even the weekend to read the whole episode at once. That is fine.

If you miss an episode, or find your way to this story somewhere in the middle, feel free to click on the archives button. The pilot episode begins it all at the beginning of November 2015. Happy reading. Lets see how good your visualization skills really are…

Charmed: Part 11 of 11, A Disney-Like Halloween Story (Without the Singing)

October 27, 2015October 4, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Chapter 11 Afterword

Elizabeth went home at ten o’clock and hugged her mom and dad, not without a few tears, and went straight to bed because she had a long, exhausting night. Jessica met Jake’s mom and dad, who decided Jake was growing up and needed some time to enjoy his last couple of years of high school. They vowed to work on their own schedules so Jake would not have to always be saddled with his little sister. Jake said he did not mind, but that made his mom just say, “See?”

Mary, the witch, cast a little spell so when the kids woke up in the morning they would remember having a wonderful time, but the details would be fuzzy. This turned out to be a good thing, because Mike the nerd spent most of the night talking to Jack-o-lantern, wondering if it was made in Japan, and curious about how it worked. He said the programming almost made it sound like it knew what it was talking about, and he marveled at how they got the words and the mouth to work together so well.

Blockhead spent the night trying to explain football to Big Tooth, who understood the game, but enjoyed stringing the kid along. Serena, on the other hand, marveled at the goblin costumes, which is what she thought they were.

“Second best costumes I’ve seen in my life.”

“Second best?” Marrow was offended until Serena explained. The Italian dance troop with the naturally hairy legs dressing up as fauns was shear genius, and Marrow agreed.

Thomas “Tommy” Kincaid Junior spent the night trying to impress Sage with his money, his car and his presence, that is, whenever he caught Sage in her big form. That was most of the time because Cinnamon insisted the girls not take their fairy form in front of people. Cinnamon took it upon herself to make glamours to disguise as many of the spirits, people and creatures as she could. They did not really object because they knew they were not supposed to be parading about on Earth in the open like they were. Sage rewarded Tommy at the end of the night with a little kiss on the lips. The poor fellow took a long time to get over that.

In all, it was a good night and people did not seriously begin to leave until just before sunrise. Cinnamon had to make the portal because Mary Procter and Greely Putterwig were fast asleep in their chairs on the porch, and snoring. Jake walked Jessica home.

“What are you thinking?” Jessica asked when she turned into his arms for a good night kiss.

“I’m a guy. What do you think I am thinking?”

“Oh.” Jessica thought for a moment before she said, “OH. Let’s not go there yet.”

Jake shrugged. “I was wondering how the Pirates and Indians are making out.”

Jessica smiled. “See you in school.” She ran to her front door.

In fact, the Pirates and Indians were tied in the top of the third, nothing to nothing. They had been playing baseball, one night per year for almost a hundred years, and only reached the top of the third inning. But the Pirates had a man on first, and John ‘the Butcher’ Roberts was at bat.

The bat boy found a skeleton head on the ground. He jammed it into a complete skeleton and pointed. “Look, a double header,” which proved conclusively that a sense of humor is not improved by death.

The Indian pitcher palmed the skeleton head they were using for a ball. He sent in a literal screaming fastball. The Butcher backed away, and Pusshead, the home plate umpire called it a ball.

“What?” The Indian catcher protested. “It went right over the edge of the plate. You must be blind.”

“Not blind,” the skeleton head ball said. “He’s an ogre, you know, a moron.”

The pirate on first could not help himself. While they argued, he tried to steal second He slid head first, but his body stopped about ten feet shy of the grave they were using for second base. His hands, however, finished the journey, and as the Indian shortstop went to tag the runner, the hands squirted under the tag. The pirate got up grinning and ambled up to catch up to his hands. The occupant of the second base grave stuck his head out of the dirt.

”Safe,” he said.

The Indian shortstop got so angry, he took out his tomahawk and split the skull of the second base umpire. This, of course, resulted in a bench clearing brawl in the infield which is why, after a hundred years, the teams had yet to make it past the third inning.

END

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If you missed all or part of Charmed, please click on the archives and click on October 2015. Charmed is the only posting in October, and you are welcome to read as you wish. It is free.

Meanwhile, tomorrow I will have a treat, or a trick … for Halloween, you know, Jack-o-lanterns by the front door and all

Charmed: Part 10 of 11, A Disney-Like Halloween Story (Without the Singing)

October 26, 2015October 4, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Chapter 10

All of the creatures and people, with Mary, Jake, Jessica, Elizabeth, Cinnamon, Nuggets the dwarf and Mister Greely Putterwig found themselves back in the pine forest where the adventure first began. “Time to go home,” Mister Putterwig sighed, but before he could do anything, he got interrupted.

“We got you now.” It was Marrow the goblin. Worms and Maggot were with him, as was Big Tooth, the troll. “You need to take us to Earth or we will tell Lady Alice that you stole a human child.”

“We already did that part,” Mary got right into the goblin’s face and did not even blink. “Lady Alice has forgiven him now that he has set Elizabeth free.”

“Hey.” Worms sounded very unhappy. “Does that mean we can’t go and scare the children to death?”

“You are not going to scare any children to death,” Jake spoke up, loud, but it was from fear. The goblins were frightful to look at. “I won’t let you.”

“Me neither,” Jessica stood right beside Jake, and they both protected Elizabeth between them.

“How are we going to feast?” Maggot asked.

“Quiet. I’m thinking.” Marrow frowned and pulled on his chin.

“The portal,” Big Tooth suggested.

“That’s right,” Marrow grinned, a look almost more frightening than his frown. “You got an unauthorized portal to the human Earth. You need to let us go there or we will tell Lady Alice.”

“I am sure she already knows,” Cinnamon said.

“No doubt about that,” Nuggets agreed.

“Puts!” Marrow swore.

All that while, Mister Putterwig worked on opening the way to Earth, but he was not quite finished when they were all interrupted again, this time by the ghost of Thackery James Barrett, Esquire.

“Sir,” Thackery came up beside Jake and Jessica as if to protect them, and he stared at the goblins. “You are brigands to be sure. You should certainly be hanged for highway robbery, but I confess you have the upper hand at present. Thus I implore you, in the name of Christian decency, let the women and children go unharmed.”

“You’re not a woman or a child,” Marrow responded. “I suppose that makes you free game, doesn’t it?”

There was a sudden flash of blinding light as the portal between here and there formed. Thackery let out a chilling shriek before the light settled down and Thackery became able to speak with more calm. “I remember,” he said. “I remember those very words. Suddenly a great light appeared beside me. I was facing certain death, so I ran toward the light. I heard the gun. I stumbled into the light. My God, the man shot me in the back and killed me, and I ended up here.” Thackery began to weep. “Gone. Gonnnne!” He wailed a true ghostly wail and then shouted. “Abigail. Abigail.” And he went into the light. Everyone stayed silent for a moment before Jake spoke loud and clear to the goblins.

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t let you eat any children.” He reached for the cutlass and got a bit unhappy to realize it had vanished along with the Lady Alice.

“What eat children?” Marrow responded with a dumbfounded shrug.

“Do you know the penalty for eating humans, especially children?” Maggot said, and the goblins, troll, and several of the others in that big group from the circle moaned and shivered at the thought.

Marrow spoke. “We just want to scare them so bad they drop their bags. Then we plan to feast on all that Halloween candy.”

“I want to eat so much I throw up,” Worms said, and sounded happy with that prospect.

“Don’t forget,” Maggot said. “I claim the vomit.”

Most of the people moaned again at that thought.

The portal wavered.

“Hey!” The goblins yelled, but Mary, Jake, Jessica, Elizabeth and Mister Putterwig went though first. Everyone else followed and got directed by Mister Putterwig out the back door, toward the big back yard where an old fairy circle was already present. It wouldn’t take long to put up some lights and get the music started.

Jake, Jessica, Elizabeth and Mary went out the front door and got surprised to find Tommy, Blockhead, Mike and Serena still there, sitting around, nibbling on Elizabeth’s candy. It turned out to be a bit after seven, and they had been waiting for more than an hour. At least they were sitting and waiting before the ghost came through the locked door. They backed up to the yard and the fence, and Blockhead looked ready to bolt every time Thackery wailed for Abigail.

“Watch it! There’s another one,” Mike shouted. It did not help being by the street, under the street light, when another ghost came floating up into that light. In fact, Mike and the others moved back into the shadows since the ghosts appeared to be attracted to the light.

“Thackery?” the ghost called. It looked like a woman, dressed in a fine traveling dress and cloak. She looked very young and pretty, even if she did not seem to have any feet.

“Abigail?”

“A very fine and proper lady named Alice said I would find you here,” the woman ghost said.

“Oh Abigail. I searched for you for ever so long.” Thackery flew to her and they embraced.

“At last, at last.” Abigail hugged him before he set his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. The two faded from sight and were not seen again in this world. Everyone sighed, except Blockhead, who looked more relieved. Then Jessica made a decision.

“Serena,” Jessica said. “Call Vanessa and tell her the party is being moved to the old Putterwig house.”

“Really?” Serena looked uncertain.

“Hey, we are talking Halloween party.” The music began to work its enchantment from the back to the front yard.

“There is that,” Serena said, and she got out her phone.

“Tommy,” Jake called. “I got twenty bucks. Take Mike down to the supermarket and buy as much candy as they have left. We got some big kids that are dying for Halloween treats.”

“Keep your money,” Tommy said. “For the ghost show it’s my treat. So how did you do that?”

“Holographic?” Mike suggested.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Elizabeth said, and she tugged on Jake’s hand to take her out back. Fortunately, just then Sage and Thyme, with their mother Cinnamon, all in their natural small fairy form, came to fetch the little girl. This time, they sprinkled her all over with fairy dust and Elizabeth giggled when she lifted right off the ground and flew with the fairies down the hall and out the back door.

“Serena shut your mouth and get the party here,” Jessica yelled, while Jake reached over and took her hand. Jessica stared at their hands for a minute.

“Blockhead, how’s your dancing?” Jake asked.

Blockhead said nothing. He just began to bounce up and down in a way that showed he had no sense of rhythm. Serena interrupted. “Hold it big boy. Save it for when we get to the dance floor.” She grabbed his football jersey and pulled him toward the back.

Jessica suddenly turned Jake to face her. She looked him square in the eyes. She tried to listen to her thumper, and she said, “I am loving you.”

“Well.” Jake hardly knew what to say, so he returned the words. “I am loving you, too.”

“Goody,” Jessica said, sounding like a genuine fairy, and she locked her lips to his. Jake was surprised for all of a second.

Tommy and Mike came back after a while. A bunch of other kids from the high school came. But neither Jake nor Jessica wanted to stop long enough to take a breath.

Greely Putterwig came out of the house, looking once again like an ordinary enough old man. Mary had pulled up a chair and was quietly knitting, have gotten her needles and yarn from some unknown source, presumably by magic. She gave the hobgoblin a look that he thought to explain. He pointed at himself. “You might call this my un-Halloween costume.” He chuckled.

Mary merely smiled and patted the seat on the rocking chair beside her. Greely sat and then stared at the witch for a few minutes before he spoke again. “So,” he said. “Want to go out on a date?”

Mary stopped knitting and her jaw dropped.

“Then again, we could just get some DVDs and stay in and cuddle by the fire.

Mary’s face turned red, but she did not say no.

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Charmed is either a very, very small book or a long story offered in eleven parts over this October, 2015, leading up to Halloween. The posts will be put up on the blog on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, October 5, 6 and 7; 12, 13, and 14; 19, 20, and 21; 26, 27, and an extra note on the 28^th. If you miss a post, or want to go back to the beginning, they are easy enough to find. Just click on the archives and select October 2015. Charmed is the only posting for the month … So after the 28^th, I say to you all, Happy Halloween, you know, aliens, robots, cyborgs and such.

Charmed: Part 9 of 11, A Disney-Like Halloween Story (Without the Singing)

October 21, 2015October 3, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Chapter 9

The music was contagious. Jake and Jessica could hardly hold their feet still, even when they were still down the hill and could not see a thing. Cinnamon could not keep back. She zoomed ahead, just to check things. Mary floated along contentedly on her broom. Jake took hold of Jessica’s hand to help her over a rough spot in the path and neither one wanted to let go after that. They held on tight when they heard the wolf howling in the distance.

“Wolf, howling at the moon,” Jessica suggested, and she smiled at Jake and he returned her smile. The moon remained very big and full and low on the horizon so it appeared to have some orange and even red in the midst of the golden light, and the face of the man on the moon was plain as day, and also smiling down at the young people. Jessica looked shyly down where her hand held his.

Mary perked up her ears and when the howl came again and she corrected Jessica. “Werewolf.” Jake and Jessica held on tight to each other after that, and Jake fingered the cutlass that rested at his side.

When they reached the top of the path where it let out into the great clearing and the stone circle, Mary was the first to see something, and it did not make her happy. “Mister Stuffings!” She raised her voice a bit and there was some scolding in her tone. “Who is home watching the garden?”

A man turned and removed his hat, except it was not a man since it was made entirely of straw. “Sorry, Miss Procter, mum, but this is just once a year, if you don’t mind,” the scarecrow apologized.

Mary softened her look and Jake and Jessica knew by then that the witch was really a sweet old lady. “I don’t mind.”

“Good,” They heard another voice hidden behind the scarecrow. “’Cause even a doorbell needs to get out once in a while.”

“Jack!” Jake and Jessica said it together, as Mister Stuffings the scarecrow stepped aside and revealed Jack-o-lantern on the ground, facing the circle.

“Hey, kids,” Jack said, but with the scarecrow no longer blocking their view, Jake and Jessica made no response. They were already watching the dancers, taking in the music and wanting to get in the middle of it all. Then Jake saw Elizabeth and shouted.

“Elizabeth!”

Elizabeth heard, turned her head and returned the shout. “Jake!” She let go of the fairy hands to run to him, but as soon as she let go, she fell the full six feet to the ground. The music stopped. Everyone gasped. Cinnamon whipped out her wand and slowed Elizabeth’s fall, but since it happened so fast, she could not stop it. Elizabeth hit the hard ground and scraped her knees and hands, and she began to cry. Jake ran to her. Jessica came right behind, and paused when Jake held his sister in a strong embrace and cried a little with her. Jessica hesitated for a second before she got to her knees and threw her arms around them both to join the hug and add her tears. They had all had harrowing experiences on that Halloween night.

“How quaint,” Greely Putterwig said, as he stepped free of the crowd. Jack stared hard at the man who no longer looked like a man. His skin was green, which offset his bloodshot eyes, and the only other color was the two tuffs of white hair around his two pointed ears, just like Putterwig the man had around his not so pointed ears. This Putterwig was very skinny, with a small trunk that he more than made up for with extra long skinny arms and skinny legs. He had a pointed nose, a pointed chin, long thin fingers with pointed nails. His feet were flat and wide and he had thick toes, to keep him from stumbling in the dark, Jake supposed.

“She is my sister,” Jake said. “You can’t have her.”

Old Putterwig grinned a hobgoblin kind of grin. “But I have her already. Elizabeth, come here.”

Elizabeth, who turned to watch what was happening, got to her feet, and with a “Yes sir,” she walked over to stand beside the hobgoblin.

“I got her fair and square,” Putterwig said.

“You tricked her. It doesn’t count,” Jake protested

“Son,” The dwarf called Nuggets spoke gently to the young man. “Tricking is the hobgoblin version of fair and square.”

“You said you wished she would just get lost,” Putterwig raised his voice. “You should thank me. I am making your wish come true.”

“That’s not right. I didn’t mean it. Not like that.”

“Oh, son,” Nuggets shook his head. “You should always say what you mean and mean what you say. No good will come from doing otherwise.”

Jake got tired of arguing. He carefully pulled the cutlass from his belt. “Then I’ll take her back.” He found a small but strong hand on his hand, and it lowered the sword.

“No son. That is not how we settle things here. Please put down the sword before someone gets hurt.”

Jake lowered the sword and did not resist, but he fought his tears as he spoke. “But what else can I do?”he asked the dwarf. “Elizabeth.” He touched the cutlass tip to the ground and held out his free arm. “We need to go home.”

Elizabeth only glanced at Mister Putterwig before she threw her arms out in response to her brother and said, “Jake. Help me.” She began to cry once again because her feet would not move. Then she began to weep, and this was from a pain far deeper than any skinned knees could ever be. In fact, any number of those in the dance began to weep with her, empathetic as so many of them were.

Cinnamon, a full sized, full grown woman, stepped up between Jake and Jessica and put an arm gently around each. “Is this what you want, Greely Putterwig, to make this poor child suffer for the rest of her days?”

“No,” Mister Putterwig spoke in anger. “She will forget. In time she will forget all about that other place.”

“Bet it leaves a great big hole in her heart.” Nuggets stepped up beside Jake.

“She will suffer mightily from that hole in her heart, and the empty pain will point at you. Is this what you want, for Elizabeth to hate you forever?” Cinnamon stared hard at the hobgoblin until he shrieked.

“You don’t know. You have friends, and people who love you. You all have no idea what it feels like to be alone all the time. Sometimes, I am so lonely I can’t bear it.” He was the one who was now holding back the tears.

“Why you silly hobgoblin. I don’t know why hobgobs should be loners and so pigheaded and stubborn.” Mary stepped up beside Jessica. “Just look around. You have a whole community of people who would be glad to be your friends, who are your friends, and some would be very good friends if you let them.”

“Yes. That’s right. True enough.” Words came from every direction.

“Is this what you want?” Cinnamon gave no quarter. “For the community to despise you and turn their backs on you? Did you really steal this child in order to hurt her?”

“No.” Mister Putterwig shrieked again. “I don’t want to hurt her.” The tears came at last, unstoppable. “I don’t ever want to hurt her.” He got down on his knees and hugged Elizabeth and cried, and she hugged him right back and cried, too. Everyone else remained still and silent until Mister Putterwig pulled back enough to say, “Go on. You are free. Go home to your mom and dad, and your brother Jake.”

“Really?”

Mister Putterwig tried to smile. “Really.” And he watched Elizabeth as she ran and jumped into her brother’s arms and Jake let go of the cutlass completely to wrap up his little sister. Cinnamon stepped back so Jessica could join the hug and join in their happiness as she had joined in their sorrow.

Everyone was suddenly smiling and happy, and the music would have started again at any minute, but a small golden glow appeared in the middle of the circle, and it grew in size and shape until it turned into a beautiful woman, tall and slim, with long blond hair and sparkling light brown eyes, though sparkling is not usually a characteristic of brown eyes. The woman came dressed in a full length, well fitted gown of the whitest white, and she wore a cloak to match where it became hard to tell exactly where the gown stopped and the cloak began. She wore sandals on her lovely feet, but to be sure, it was never certain if her feet actually touched the ground. She looked happy, but she also looked like one who might get angry if anything ever made her unhappy.

“Lady Alice,” Mary curtsied. All around the circle, the people bowed, or went to one knee, or went to both knees and lowered their heads and eyes. Jake, Jessica and Elizabeth did not know what to think, except that they felt they ought to keep very still and quiet. Poor Mister Putterwig fell to the ground, prostrate and trembling.

“All settled?” Lady Alice said in a voice as beautiful as the rest of her, but clearly she was not really asking. She stepped up to Jake and touched his head as she named him She named Jessica and brushed Jessica’s hair from her eyes like a gentle, loving mother. She kissed Elizabeth as she named her and Elizabeth positively and literally glowed a rich golden color to match the moon. “Now the fairy food will no longer affect you, and you are free indeed.”

Lady Alice turned to Mister Putterwig and smiled. “L-lady,” Mister Putterwig stammered. “I know I did wrong and I am so very, very sorry. Please, show mercy.”

“I thought you didn’t care.”

“Careless words Almost human words. Please.”

“Do not fret,” Alice bent down and lifted the Hobgoblin’s head. “As my friend Will used to say, all’s well as ends well, but this play is not done.” Lady Alice stood and smiled once around at everybody. “There is a last act to this story, but I believe it requires a change of venue.” The Lady clapped her hands, twice. All of the people and creatures around the circle remained solid enough, but the Lady, the ground and the trees, the mountain and the hills, the stars and the moon began to fade from sight.

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Charmed is either a very small book or a long story offered in eleven parts over this October, 2015, leading up to Halloween. The posts will be put up on the blog on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, October 5, 6 and 7; 12, 13, and 14; 19, 20, and 21; 26, 27, and an extra note on the 28^th. If you miss a post, or want to go back to the beginning, they are easy enough to find. Just click on the archives and select October 2015. Charmed is the only posting for the month … So after the 28^th, I say to you all, Happy Halloween, you know, spiders on your back and over your head, waiting for you to go to sleep.

Charmed: Part 8 of 11, A Disney-Like Halloween Story (Without the Singing)

October 20, 2015October 3, 2015M G Kizzia 1 Comment

Chapter 8

Elizabeth heard the music before she saw anything. She called it bouncy music that wiggled in her tummy and made her want to tap her toes. One minute she kept yawning, but the next her eyes sprang wide open and her feet got ready to dance. When she finally reached the top of the hill, she saw big stones set in a big circle and all sorts of people and creatures enjoying the dance. The musicians, imps or gnomes or dwarfs, or whatever they were, had guitars, mandolins, fiddles, pipes and plenty of drums. The dancers included graceful elves, all sorts of dwarfs that wiggled like jelly, fawns, sprites, one big centaur who stood back and clapped, and people of so many different kinds, Elizabeth could not name them all, even if she knew what all of them were. Best of all, there were fairies dancing in the circle, and Elizabeth wanted to run to meet them.

She did not have to run. Two fairy girls zoomed up when they saw Elizabeth and asked if she wanted to dance with them. Elizabeth wanted to shout, “Yes!” but she looked up at Mister Putterwig first. “May I?” She asked very sweetly. Mister Putterwig smiled, after a fashion, as it seemed that even he was not immune to the music.

“For a little bit,” he said, and then he looked down at her and tried to look serious. “But then to bed young lady.”

“Yes sir,” Elizabeth said, and both fairy girls got big right in front of Elizabeth’s astonished eyes. The one who introduced herself as Sage looked to be Jake’s age of about sixteen. The one that Sage introduced as Thyme looked more like she was twelve or thirteen. They each took one of Elizabeth’s hands and entered the circle with her. In a few short minutes, they flew six feet off the ground, giggled and laughed, and Elizabeth flew right there with them, holding on, dancing on thin air and circling around the heads of the dancers beneath them.

###

Mary Procter tried to explain and Jake and Jessica tried hard to understand. “Time and space don’t always work the same here as on Earth. Three or four days can pass here, while on earth it is still the same day. You might be here six or eight hours and find only an hour or hour and a half passed back home. Then again, Six or eight hours here might be several days back home. It varies. It changes. It doesn’t make the normal kind of sense.”

“How long have you been here?” Jessica asked, and Jake understood the question as a gentle way of asking the witch how old she was.

“I was born in 1669, and my brother Thorndike was born in 1672. That was the year my mother died. Father left me with foster parents when he moved to Salem and started over. He kept saying he would come for me, but he never did. He remarried, had other children, and then the trouble all started. I was twenty-three, and not married when the trouble came. Everyone knew I was a Procter. It was no secret. But when father got arrested in Salem Town, my foster family became afraid for me, especially since they knew I could do some things that were not exactly normal. We moved to the wilds of New Hampshire, but the word followed us. I would have been taken for sure and condemned to the pressing if Lady Alice had not brought me here.”

“Yeah, who is this Lady Alice we keep hearing about?” Jake hated to interrupt, but he had to ask.

“She runs this place and oversees all who are here. I say she is as like to a Heavenly Angel as flesh and blood can be. Sometimes she calls this place her loony bin, but the truth is she loves every blessed creature here, even the nasty spiders. She says everyone deserves a chance to live.”

“So, you are three hundred and fifty years old?” Jessica had been counting.

“Witches do live longer than non-magic folk, but not that much longer. I am around ninety seven, give or take, but I think I still have a few more years in me. That was what I was trying to explain about time. Time here and on earth don’t move at the same rate. To be sure, I might just as easily have lived to ninety seven while on earth it might have been seven or eight years later, like 1700 instead of two thousand and whatever year you say it is.”

Someone knocked on the door. “Knock, knock.” Jack-o-lantern shouted.

“Who’s there?” Mary asked, like a well-worn game.

“Cinnamon.” Cinnamon answered for herself.

“Cinnamon who?” Mary asked, but she already got up to answer the door.

“Cinn-a-min, can I come in?”

“Of course,” Mary opened the door. Cinnamon squirted in and went straight to the table where she stopped, threw he hands to her hips and tapped her foot in mid air. Jake and Jessica looked down and to the side where they did not have to see the glare in Cinnamon’s eyes.

“Waiting right there, huh?” Jake and Jessica held their tongues and took their scolding gracefully.

“It’s all right,” Mary said. “The spiders found them and I thought it might be safer in here. We have just been having some tea and stories. Would you like some chamomile?”

“No.” Cinnamon softened at the word, spiders. “I found Eliza-BETH,” she said, and grinned at Jessica.

“Where?” Jake stood. He ignored the jibe.

“She is safe. She is fine. My two daughters have her by the hand and are dancing with her, now that they got over being scolded. They are supposed to be sleeping you know, but they couldn’t sleep with you making all that noise.”

“I’m sorry. You are right. I’m to blame. I am sure your daughters are good girls,” Jake confessed.

“I was with you until that last part,” Cinnamon responded with a sigh. “But it is Halloween night, the one night their antics might be forgiven.”

“Posh. She is joking,” Mary got her shawl. “Sage and Thyme are wonderful girls.”

“Are we going there?” Jessica asked. “What are they doing with Elizabeth?”

“Dancing. It is the Halloween celebration. I don’t really mind the girls being up tonight. This night only comes once a year. We can join the fun, if you like, and we can go anytime you are ready.”

Jake looked at Jessica. Jessica stood to say she was ready. “Now would be fine,” he said.

“Wait, wait,” Mary raised her voice. “Let me find my broom. I can’t walk up that old hill like I used to.”

************************

Charmed: Part 7 of 11, A Disney-Like Halloween Story (Without the Singing)

October 19, 2015October 3, 2015M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Chapter 7

Cinnamon sat quietly on Jessica’s shoulder until they came to a place where the forest began to thin. The path they walked on petered out as the ways opened up and the forest kindly let them walk around any number of trees. Jake looked back, curious. There was no sign of the wall or the cemetery and he wondered how it might have vanished so instantly and completely. Jessica did not notice. Cinnamon began to talk quietly in her ear.

“Are you and Jake loving each other?” Jessica looked. Jake had his hand on the cutlass, to keep it from swinging wildly in the woods. He kept looking all around, a wise precaution since this place was so full of surprises.

“I don’t know,” Jessica said. “We might be. We could be, I think, but it is complicated.”

“Why is it complicated? That is a big word so it must be a big reason.”

“Not really complicated. I had a boyfriend before. But Jake is different. I don’t know. I think he is real nice, but I don’t know what he thinks. He hardly talks to me, and I don’t know what to say to him, either. I don’t know what to think?”

“That’s the problem. You are using your thinker instead of your thumper.”

“What do you mean?”

“For fairies it is easy. We don’t have room in our little brains for all of that foolish human stuff. When a fairy likes another fairy, she simply says, “I am liking you.” Then he says, “I am liking you, too,” and they become friends. When a fairy falls in love, she goes right up to him and says, “I am loving you,” and he says, “I am loving you too,” and they become lovers.

“But what if he isn’t loving her?”

“That is very sad, and the fairy goes away and cries, sometimes for a whole day, before she can have fun again.” Cinnamon adjusted her seat to whisper very soft. “When a fairy truly falls in love, she says, “You are my heart.” That is when the thumper takes over and the thinker can’t think of anything or anyone else. And if she is his heart, they become a family.”

“That sounds so simple.”

“Why shouldn’t it be simple?”

“But what if she isn’t his heart?”

“Very saddest of all. We don’t like to think about that. But then, when a fairy says someone is her heart, it can be a father or mother or sister or brother or best friend forever, so it means lots of things.”

“I wish people were that easy. Human people, I mean.”

“Aha!” Cinnamon jumped up and Jessica felt the breeze from the fairy’s wings. They tickled her ear. “I know where Greely Putterwig lives from here.” She got excited, lifted into the air and spun around several times until she almost made herself dizzy.

Jessica looked where Jake was looking. A lovely cottage sat some ways off, down in a hollow in the woods. It had a warm and cozy glow about it in the night, and smoke rising from the chimney. There appeared to be roses out front, and a stone walkway that ended at the front door. Cinnamon ruined the lovely vision with what she said.

“The witch’s house. Wait here this time. I’ll be right back.” The fairy flitted off, again with such speed neither Jake not Jessica had a chance to protest.

Jake looked at Jessica and she smiled. He did not know what to say. “Some Halloween, huh?” It sounded stupid to his ears.

“I know.” Jessica took it well. “A real fairy.”

“And goblins.” He could go with this for a while.

“Real Pirates.” She pointed to the cutlass.

“Zombie Pirates,” he corrected her.

“And Indians.”

“And skeletons.”

“Oh, and an ogre.”

“And a real live ghost.”

“A real dead ghost,” Jessica offered a correction. “I feel sorry for Thackery.”

Jake nodded in agreement, but then he ran out of things to say. Jessica merely looked at him until he felt a little uncomfortable. He looked away, and this time, it was his turn to scream first. Jessica turned from her own thoughts to join him in the scream. Spiders came over the horizon. They looked big, at least two feet long not counting the eight hairy legs. There appeared to be plenty of them. Jake and Jessica got surrounded.

Jake carefully pulled out the cutlass, though he almost cut himself. “Put your back to the tree,” he yelled. Jessica just screamed again. Jake began to swing the cutlass, wildly. The spiders did not care or seem to notice until the one in the lead got cut through the head. Blood and guts squirted, and then dribbled out.

“Over here,” Jessica yelled and Jake went to stand in front of her, while the spiders slipped into the long, moon-made shadows of the trees. They could hear the click-click of their jaws all around. Jake cut two more when they came close, but there were too many of them.

Jessica felt something drip on her shoulder and looked up. She screamed again. One hovered in the tree, over their heads, and drooled. Jake could not reach it with the cutlass. Jessica tore off her orange vest and tried to slap it out of the tree, She could not reach it either, but a green light came from just down in the hallow. It struck the spider, and the spider fell to the side, rolled to its back and curled up dead. Jessica screamed again before they heard a woman’s voice.

“I heard ye the first time.” The woman sounded annoyed. She had gray hair, looked a bit plump from age, and lifted her plain brown dress and apron as she struggled up the hill. She had a stick of some sort in her hand, and the green light was emanating from the stick. Three more spiders got zapped, like with green lightning, and the spiders decided to retreat. When the old woman came to stand in front of Jake and Jessica, she took a deep breath, like she was winded from the climb. Then she raised her arms and shouted something unintelligible. The green light formed in a circle around the three of them and their tree before it shot out like a wave made by a pebble in a still pond. No telling how many spiders suddenly keeled over and curled up.

“Okay. They won’t be back this Halloween night, but you don’t belong out here. You better come inside.” Neither Jake nor Jessica had to say “this is the witch from the cottage.” The circumstantial evidence made that crystal clear. Jake tried to wipe the cutlass clean and put it back in his belt. Jessica ventured a small question.

“Your house wouldn’t happen to be made of gingerbread, would it?”

The witch laughed, a healthy human laugh and not the cackle they expected. What is more, the witch showed a kind little twinkle in her eyes that helped them relax. “Wrong season for gingerbread.” The witch almost stumbled on a root, but Jessica reached out to steady the old woman. “My name is Mary,” the witch said.

“I’m Jessica and that is Jake.”

“Don’t tell me, you are following a little girl named Elizabeth.”

“My sister,” Jake perked up. “Do you know where she is?”

“Up on the mountainside with Greely Putterwig, the hobgob. Don’t worry, she should probably be just fine. I’ll take you there, but after I catch my breath if you don’t mind.”

“Are you psychic?” Jessica wondered how the witch knew all this.

“No. Tom the cat came by and told me. Please, come in and have some tea. I don’t do much magic these days, at my age. It takes so much out of you.”

Jessica caught some movement out of the corner of her eye. It was a perfectly black cat, sitting on the lawn, washing a paw. Jake had his eyes focused on the jack-o-lantern on the front stoop. He was just admiring the intricately, beautifully carved features of a very frightening goblin-like face when the face moved.

“Boo!” The pumpkin face crossed its eyes and stuck its tongue out. Jake, and Jessica, attracted by the movement, both let out a shriek. “Did I scare ya?” the pumpkin asked. Jake and Jessica nodded. “Good, cause the old witch put me here to guard the front door, but if I had a body I could guard it so much BETTER.”

“Oh, Jack. You are just fine the way you are,” the witch said with a kind smile as she opened the thick oak door,. The inside of the house let out a warm light and inviting smell. “Come in,” she said. “Chamomile tea I think for this time of night,” and the entered the house, together.