Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 6 M/F Story

September 7, 2009M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Arosa sat still for the long ride to Wallace’s Fish Camp. David seemed speechless, but that was fine for the moment. Arosa had her own thoughts to contend with, and they were quite enough. Apparently, the theme for the day had not yet finished.

Presently, Arosa was remembering the plots and plans they had made.

“With the Emperor so preoccupied in Gwarhor and in the West, now is the time to strike for freedom.” That was Arosa’s own father who said that. Her mother was quiet, but in full accord. Her Great Uncle Festus, as Captain-General of the ships of Nova, Admiral as Arosa translated in her mind, he shouted “Here! Here!” or the equivalent in the tongue of Nova. Dunovan was more thoughtful.

“With our combined fleets we can rule in the Southern Sea.” He said. “But on land, we must all hang together or we will surely all hang separately.”

Arosa shook her head. That was from the American Revolution, but the sentiment was the same. Poor, brave, sweet, senseless Dunovan.

A tear came to Arosa’s eye.

She remembered that last time she saw Dunovan, all dressed for war in glittering chain and shining bronze. Such a glorious knight he was, and what devotion he had from every man who followed him to their doom. She cried for days when word came. Poor Lila was almost neglected, and would have been if not for the nurse and the faithful, loving servants that surrounded her. Arosa tried to turn her mind from her memory of Dunovan, thinking that her serious thoughts about David was bringing it all to the surface; but apparently the vision-like moment was not done.

She remembered the messenger, every speck of dirt on the man’s clothes, every drop of sweat on the man’s broad forehead; how he had ridden all night with the news and run up the great castle steps with tears in his own eyes. Her Mother and Father were poisoned. Her great uncle was ruined at sea and would not be coming back. The Empire was in Nova and her unremarkable second cousin Verko, a sixteen-year-old boy with no ambition whatsoever, had been installed on the throne. The boy would do as he was told and he was closest to the throne, after her. Apparently, the Emperor Kzurga had no intention of having her return to Nova, and she dared not stay in Truscas. It would be her death, certain.

She remembered all of the hints her mother-in-law Callista dropped into everyday conversation. She should go away. She was not of the right blood to rule in Truscas, even if her daughter was. She should find another home to spend her days. Of course, none of it was said in so many words, but it was the sentiment. Arosa would have to have been an ignorant fool not to know this.

But it was not for Callista’s sake that she found this world and came to this place of exile. It was for the people. Arosa was part of the rebellion, even if only a little part. The Emperor might have forgiven her for her part in the conspiracy, but she could not count on that. Truscas was in danger of invasion as long as she stayed the Queen. Barten-Cur came from the house of Nova, sought her out, and together, they ran. She said nothing, though, because Callista would have certainly tried to kidnap Lila and keep her in hiding.

They arrived at the fish camp and Arosa stepped out of the car almost before David turned off the engine. She did not want him to see her cry. Not just yet.

“Are you all right?” David asked kindly.

“David.” Arosa hesitated for one last moment, and then she made up her mind. Before we go any further in this relationship, there is something you need to know.” He was about to say something stupid so she spoke first. “I’m not from this world.”

David paused. He looked at her closely. “From the way you are dressed.” He started to make a joke, but then he pulled himself up as tall as he could stand. “I think I can almost believe you. You are much too beautiful for a small Georgia town.”

Arosa smiled. That was not exactly true, but she did not mind hearing it. Still, she felt she had to tell him and that feeling came with an urgency she did not understand. She took his hand and walked him to the side of the parking lot where no one would go. She stopped there and raised her hands, the magic flowing from her fingers. A bubble-like structure surrounded them, which would muffle any sounds they made and make them all but invisible to any eyes that were not on top of them. Then she turned to David and let her wings out, pushing them slowly against the air until she was hovering about three feet from the ground. David looked scared for a moment, but he calmed a little when she spoke. “I have a story to tell you, over dinner if you don’t mind. I’m starving.” She landed, burst the bubble with a thought, took David’s arm and led him to the door before he could raise a protest.

————

Barten-Cur imagined there was a kind of orchestrated madness going on in the gym. It had been used during the day, of course, so it could not be decorated for the dance until after school. Jessica and her eighth grade “in-crowd,” Mindy, Savannah and Shakira were putting up streamers. The wannabes, Brittany, Nichole and Molly were plastering the walls with Halloween motifs. Coach Beemer had the four prime members of the eighth grade football team setting up chairs and a few tables. There was Tyler Hamm, the quarterback, Alex the center, Brad the linebacker, and Colin the defensive end. They were in practice uniforms, and Barten-Cur guessed those uniforms would be doubling for their Halloween costumes at the dance.

Barten-Cur held his ears for a minute. “Sorry. Sorry.” Mister Deal, the music teacher was setting the volume for the music and testing the equipment.

“I should think so!” Ms Gloria Finster, the art teacher, shouted from the refreshment table. “I almost dropped the punch.” She was emptying orange soda and fruit punch into a big bowl. It was supposed to end up pumpkin color, but in truth it was more the color of Georgia red clay-mud.

Ms Addams, Language Arts and Mister Johnson, Social Studies, chose that moment to enter from the Cafeteria side, carrying trays of cookies.

“I don’t dress.” Mister Johnson was saying.

Barten stared for a minute at Ms Addams. She was maybe twenty-five, and by far the prettiest woman at the school, after the Princess, to be sure.

“But you have so many good choices to choose from.” She was arguing with the older man.

“Dead white men.” Mister Johnson complained.

“All right, then. Fredrick Douglass, Martin Luther King. Someone!”

“I don’t do Halloween. I don’t dress.” Mister Johnson insisted.

“Bob and Emily are coming as a disco couple.” Ms Finster spoke up from the punch bowl. She was talking about the math and science teachers. “Isn’t that cute?”

“I don’t do cute, either.” Mister Johnson said, but he almost smiled by accident as he said it.

“Excuse me.” Barten-Cur heard a voice behind him and he had to step aside. He had been blocking the door and Ms Ramirez the Spanish teacher wanted in. She was followed by a half-dozen seventh graders, Nate and Karen, fat Brian, and Maria who could hardly speak any English. Coach Beemer had his eyes open, though, and he immediately came up to Adam, a rather large young man for the seventh grade.

“So Adam.” The coach said. “Thought any more about football?” He was a direct kind of person. Adam was not in the mood.

“I don’t know.” He hedged.

Shakira came up looking for her cousin. “Where’s Tasha?” She asked. Tasha had it bad for big Adam.

“I don’t know.” Adam repeated himself.

Ms Finster shouted out from the refreshment table. “Come to help?”

“No.” Adam answered for them all. “We’re just passing through.” He tried to hide among his fellow seventh graders, but his head towered over the others, as they all waited on Ms Ramirez.

“We’re about done anyway.” Ms Finster admitted.

“Who let the peons in here?” Jessica asked in a superior tone, referring to the seventh graders in general. She was halfway up a ladder and turned for a good look.

“Don’t touch them.” Mindy said. “You might catch something.”

“No telling where they’ve been.” Savannah added.

The seventh graders looked at each other, but that just made the girls laugh. Brittany stepped forward from the window, however, and just had to say something.

“Come on, Jessica. Get off your high horse.”

“Is pickle face talking to me?” Jessica responded. Brittany’s mom had the bad sense to dress her daughter as a pickle in the first grade. It was a cute costume at the time; but now that Brittany was of an age where things were beginning to break out on her face for real, Jessica thought it was a good time to remind everyone of that costume. Brittany fumed, but she said nothing knowing that it would have only made matters worse. She left, red angry, and Nichole and Molly followed.

“See you at six.” Ms Finster shouted after them, hoping to turn everyone’s thoughts from Jessica’s cruel words, but it did not really help. Jessica laughed and climbed the rest of the ladder.

“Tyler!” Jessica called sweetly to the quarterback. “Hand me the streamer.” Barten-Cur noticed the streamer extended to the foot of the ladder, but Tyler was not paying attention. He moved when Ms Ramirez left with the seventh graders in her train. He reached the streamer and handed it up. Jessica took one look down at that ugly, wart-face and screamed. She kept on screaming, too, until everyone came and Barten-Cur finally put down the streamer and walked away. Of course, Jessica claimed that she had merely been startled by the custodian’s face, but if that was true, one scream would have been enough.

“Sorry Mister Cur.” Tom Deal, the music teacher, took in on himself to speak for everyone; but then they all had to focus on Jessica, which was all Jessica really wanted.

————

Barten-Cur went over to the window, not giving the attitude of the girl a second thought. Because of his appearance, he had been treated that way his whole life; even back in the old world. Then, he remembered! He rushed out of the gym and shot for his pick-up. The drive was short, but by the time he arrived at the house, everyone was gone.

Barten locked the front door, Lila having forgotten again, and he stood on the front porch for a long time pondering what to do. All he could envision was Truscan soldiers invading the school, and people getting hurt. Seventh and Eighth graders were in no position to defend themselves, he thought. To be sure, there were only a dozen places in town to eat out, and half of them were fast food restaurants. Barten-Cur could have found his Princess easily enough, but he did not think of that. He was worried about Lila, if the soldiers came. He guessed they would be looking for her, and Arosa, but Lila especially had no one else to look after her. He made up his mind.

He went to his apartment and retrieved a potion he had made some time ago. “To keep in practice.” He told himself. He had intended it for the Wallabys’ dogs, thinking they would do less damage to the property as squirrels, but he never used it. Lady Arosa said he was not to do magic except in extreme emergency, like if Lila’s life was in danger. Well, this counted, but he would have to be careful about it so as not to get in trouble.

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 5 M/F Story

September 4, 2009M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Barten-Cur came up to the Middle School in a hurry. He tried to make it before the school busses started, but failed, and so he was delayed in traffic for a long time. By the time he arrived, the library was already closed up and Arosa had gone home. Lila was also nowhere to be found. He was about to turn and rush to the house, but the Middle School Principal caught him.

“Barten.” The Principal called. “I appreciate you coming over from the High School for this dance. Wilson has little ones to trick or treat, you know.” He said. “I’m a little concerned, though, that all of the decorations are up to code. We can’t have the Fire Marshall coming in and shutting down the whole event.”

“Yes sir.” Barten said. He would need to check on that, but later, he thought.

Mary, Principal Barlow’s secretary stuck her head out of the office door on hearing the voices in the hall. “Ah. Mister Cur.” She said. “I was hoping you would come early. I have several instructions to go over with you and I want to ask you some questions.”

Barten-Cur swallowed. “Yes mam.” He said, hoping it would not take too long. He looked to the side as Morgan and Mary went by.

“I hear Secretary Mary, the school witch is coming as the Wicked Witch of the West.” Morgan whispered.

“Perfect.” Mary said with a smile and shrug as they hurried off.

Later, when Barten-Cur came out of the office, he looked very confused. The school secretary was very good at doing that to people, even the bright ones. Barten-Cur walked down the hall that ran along the side of the auditorium, and headed for the gym. He had to be sure the decorations were not in violation of the fire codes. By the time he remembered the soldier and his need to tell Arosa, it was too late.

————

Lila left Jennifer and Ginger at the front walk and came in by the picket fence gate, waving as she walked up the porch steps. Of course, Jennifer and Ginger had to go home to get in their costumes; but they would be back. “One hour!” Jennifer had shouted from the distance, though Lila suspected it would take a bit longer than that.

Grandpa drove up as Lila reached the door, so she waited, and then decided to go to the car to meet him. She hugged him. “You are coming to the dance?” She had not had a chance to ask earlier what with chemistry tests and such.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Wendel said, putting his arm around Lila’s shoulder for a real hug. “Your mother inside?”

“I guess.” Lila said. “She left school right away. What takes so long to get ready for a crumby date, anyway?” She asked.

“Ah, yes.” Grandpa Carter said in an all-knowing tone of voice. “But I think you had better let your mother explain that. I’m not much good on the ways of women and their dates.”

“Oh, Grandpa.” Lila said, happily, hugging him just a little more.

Wendel Carter smiled. He was genuinely happy.

Upstairs, Arosa fretted in front of the mirror. The white gown would suit well. It fit nicely and had a solid Greco-Roman look to it as would be expected for an angel; but she was not sure if she should really do the wings or just suggest them with the strap-ons. She straightened the golden circle around her hair, which was there to suggest the halo. She was not about to wear one with a stick attached. She picked up her brush and began brushing her bangs. Her hair was short now, at least by her standards, falling only to the middle of her back; though it was still much longer than the boy haircuts so popular among the women around her. “Definitely do the wings.” She decided, and she focused, waved her hands slightly, producing a soft, swirling white light, which rose over her shoulder and touched her back. The magic would do the work.

Vents appeared in two places in the back of her gown, well edged so as not to fray, but large enough to let out the wings. She felt the magic when it touched her back, and was uncomfortable for a moment as her back muscles became much stronger, multiplied and rearranged themselves. Then the wings began to grow. She could feel the tips extending, and felt the feathers like one felt one’s hair; yet there was life in the wings, and she could play with them, though she did hope she would not molt too much over the course of the evening. The wings, when contracted, soon rose as high as her head, and the tip feathers touched the ground so she had to let them out just a little to keep them from dragging. She considered their shape. They were spaced perfectly so she would have no trouble sitting in a chair. She would have to tell David no booths, though, wherever he was taking her.

Arosa sighed. “Why not?” She asked herself. She let the wings all of the way out and allowed one gentle flap, putting her hands above her head just in case she ran into the ceiling. She lifted gently off the ground, about a foot, and then settled slowly back to her feet. Lila came to the door just in time to see.

“Mom!” Lila nearly shouted.

“What do you think?” Arosa asked.

“Oh, Mom.” Lila came close for a hug. “I always knew you were an angel.”

“But.” Arosa had a sudden thought. She broke the embrace and turned around. “How do I look?”

Lila took a moment to look closely at the wings. She saw them flex, like a wave beginning in her mother’s back and continuing to gently flow all of the way to the tips. “Fine.” She said, not knowing what she was supposed to be looking at.

“My back isn’t too big?” Arosa asked.

Lila looked more closely. “No.” She said. “Bigger than it was, I think, but not too big. Still nice.”

Arosa turned again with relief on her face. “I was afraid the muscles needed to carry my wings might turn my back into some monstrous size.”

Lila shook her head. “They are angel wings, right? Wouldn’t they have some magic in them to prevent that?”

Arosa smiled. “I know we haven’t practiced magic much.” She said. “We have to work on that, but you should at least remember the lessons you have had. Even with magic, things…”

“Still work by natural means.” Lila finished the sentence. “OK. Now you can help me with my fairy wings. Oh, wait. Let me get in costume first.”

“No Lila.” Arosa spoke in her firm voice.

“What? But Mom!”

“First of all, fairies are only about six or nine inches tall, and you are not allowed to go to the dance nine inches tall.”

Lila interrupted. “And second of all, we are not supposed to practice magic in public. That’s your rule. But you are.” Lila was glad to point that out.

“And second of all, you left the front door unlocked this morning. No real fairy wings!” Arosa shook her finger.

“Not fair!” Lila complained and went off to her room, closing the door with some volume. Arosa sighed and went downstairs, letting her wings float her down.

“Dad?” She saw him rummaging through his briefcase.

“I have to go back to the office.” He said.

“You better dress first.” She suggested.

“Richard the Lionhearted goes to school.” He winked.

“Dad.” She knew he did not have such a costume.

“All right. I’m really dressing as the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, you know, if I only had a brain.”

Arosa laughed softly and kissed him as the front doorbell rang and Wendel hustled upstairs. Arosa answered the door, and David was dressed as Richard the Lionhearted. She turned and shot a hard look up the stairs. It was a good costume, too, almost good enough to give Arosa a feeling of home. “You look very nice.”

“You look.” David had to pause for the right words. “Very lovely.” That was where he finally settled, though it was not what he was thinking. Arosa saw much more in his eyes. She smiled and looked down as she stepped out and took his arm. They walked to the car, and as an afterthought, Arosa sent a bit of special magic, secretly, to let her sit comfortably in the front passenger seat, and still wear her seatbelt, despite the wings. She had not thought of sitting in the car.

“You do look lovely.” David repeated himself as they got in and buckled up. He really was a nice man, Arosa thought.

In the house, Wendel Carter got his things and headed for the door, shouting back at Lila. “I have to go back to the office. I’ll see you at the school. Your mother left supper on the stove for you. Are you there, Lila?”

Lila opened her door. “I’m here. Grandpa.” She shouted. “I’ll lock the door when I go.” She finished dressing and heard Grandpa’s car start and leave. Lila let her magic out, but the wings would not attach and she could not grow any from scratch. She felt useless. Her magic was more yellow, like sunlight, and not the pure white of her mother’s magic. She wondered briefly if that might have something to do with her difficulties, but she remembered when her mother explained that it should make no difference. Barten-Cur’s magic tended to come with a light purple light, and he was a very powerful magician.

“Someday.” Lila said to herself, and she went downstairs and turned her nose up at the dinner her mother left. She checked her resources and decided on the McDonalds, which was just a block from the school.

One Writer’s mid-week Writing Secrets 1: Tell a Story.

September 1, 2009September 2, 2009M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Sorry, I don’t have a link but I would recommend reading the Wall Street Journal, Saturday/Sunday, August 29-30, page W3 in the culture section. The article is by Lev Grossman, and it is titled: Storytelling. Good Books Don’t Have to Be Hard. And it is subtitled: A novelist on the pleasure of reading stories that don’t bore… My response is: Amen. Whether you are writing fiction or embarked on some journalistic enterprise (or writing journalistic-fiction which is all too common these days) it helps to have a story!

Grossman blames our view of what constitutes “great writing” (literature) on the modernists in the 1920s who objected to the Victorian novels that tied everything up in a nice, neat ending. Faced with all of the changes that came with modern life, these authors said, (recognized) that life did not work out in nice and neat ways, and so they produced such works as “Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” “The Age of Innocence,” “Ulysses,” “A Passage to India,” “The Sun Also Rises,” “A Farewell to Arms,” “The Sound and the Fury,” and so on. These all may be great books in their way, but the truth is (and Grossman says it well) they are too hard on the reader. As he points out, “imagine what it felt like the first time somebody opened up “The Waste Land” and saw that it came with footnotes.”

To be sure, all of these great works by great writers have produced in us a sense that quality writing must be like theirs: “Mainstream” or “Literary;” yet, like the impressionist painters that revolutionized the art world, they have had their day. The day of the “Mainstream” or “Literary” novel (so-called) is over. To put it more succinctly: modern literature had its time and place, but we are now living in a post modern age.

Thank goodness story is making a comeback. Clearly, story is what readers want. As Grossman points out, “Sales of young adult books (where the unblushing embrace of storytelling is allowed) are up 30.7% so far this year (through June)… while adult hardcovers are down 17.8%. Nam Lee’s “The Boat,” one of the best reviewed books of fiction in 2008 has sold 16,000 copies in hardcover and trade paperback according to Nielsen Bookscan… (while) the author of the “Twilight” series, Stephanie Meyer, sold eight million.”

My point would be that it pays to have a story to tell. Readers want this. Writers – Serious Writers are discovering this. Agents and Publishers are a little slower, but I believe they will follow the money. My hope is that someday maybe even the reviewers will catch up.

You remember story: Beginning, middle and End. Yes, I said end. True, these days we might not wrap everything up in a neat Victorian ribbon. (The lessons of the modernists were valid to some extent). In our day, Scrooge might have a relapse. (We would call that a sequel). But still, a story ought to have some resolution, some conclusion; it needs to reach a point where one can honestly type: THE END. It should no longer be acceptable to end a story, “because my fingers got tired of typing so I went to bed.”

“But what of Great Literature and true Stream of Consciousness writing, and etc.?” As Jessica would say, with a snap of her gum, a click of her tongue and a roll of her eyes, “That is so last century!”

Writing Tip 1:

Tell a story. Tell a good story. Grab the reader. Take them through whatever twists or turns exist, and when you are done, let them go. This can still be great literature, and I believe it will be how the future sees literature. You can say all you want to say about life, liberty and the pursuit in a story. You can make great points, Dickens did, but first of all make it a good read, because if it is good enough, along with lasting beyond the lifetime of a blog, someone just might pay you for it.

— Michael

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 4 M/F Story

September 1, 2009M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Lila was in the Library last period for study hall, where no one ever studied. Presently, she was staring out the window. There was a war was going on. The school color guard, the ones who would do ROTC in High School were struggling to practice, lifting heavy white-washed wooden guns with sweaty hands and marching in step to music which was considerably better than the High School band. Lila was sure Aaron and Missy were set on the Navy. Aaron was the captain of the team, though, and Lila felt that Missy might just be following him around. Ricky and Tamika, on the other hand, were both clearly interested in the Marines. Curiously, both would have to lose some weight, she thought.

There were also two seventh graders. Lila had to think for a minute before coming up with the names Kate and Warren. She shrugged. They were seventh graders, and they looked it.

Aaron broke off the drill to go to the parking lot. Bob was in the lot, ignoring whatever class he was supposed to be in, blasting gangsta rap, and Celeste was laughing at something. Owen was there with Terry clinging to him like a leech, and Kyle, poor hormone crazy, sex maniac Kyle was right with them. God help the eighth grade.

Lila tried to listen, but since she could not hear through the glass, she had to imagine Aaron was yelling at Bob to turn it down. The hip-hop music was seriously crimping the drill, but Bob and Celeste just laughed. God, how Lila hated the middle school games!

There was an interruption in the war. The three primo seventh graders, Anna, Lisa and Elizabeth were walking by, ignoring everything and everyone, except Kyle was not about to let them pass without making a pass. Lila saw Anna turn toward the other two, and she looked red-faced because of whatever Kyle said. It looked like Lisa responded while Elizabeth stuck her nose up and wanted nothing to do with the eighth grader. Who would? The boy was running amok, Lila decided.

“Ahem!” Lila’s mom was shelving something and Lila snapped to attention, looking at her textbook, though not really focusing. She would recognize that “Ahem!” anywhere. It was not a good thing having your mother as school librarian, at least not very often.

“Kyle is a weirdo.” Ginger whispered.

“What?” Morgan missed it.

“He said something to the seventh grade wannabes.” Lila explained. “Probably something stupid.” She added, though it was unnecessary. Morgan’s mouth was already forming an understanding “O,” when Mary pointed.

“Tom and Rachel.” Mary said, and all heads turned. Mary and Eddie were on again – off again. Donna and Bobby were also a couple, though they were never much together, like they were still checking things out about being a boy and a girl together. Tom and Rachel, on the other hand, seemed to have settled things nicely. They were not holding hands, exactly, but they might as well have been. Morgan sighed. She was interested in Jordan, admitting it one day and denying it the next; but Lila had learned, under strict confidence, that both Morgan and Jordan were coming to the Halloween dance as pirates.

“No place to hide there.” Lila said, half out loud, which solicited another “Ahem!” from the peanut gallery.

“This is study time, not window time.” Lila’s mom reminded the girls, and they got quiet for a minute, though none of them so much as glanced at their books.

“Got it.” Jennifer spoke almost too loud as she came over and sat at the table, a big book in her hand. “The gang at the geek table said this book has everything we need for our project.”

“Great.” Ginger sighed, and Morgan nodded in agreement, but Lila craned her neck to look at the geek table. She trusted George well enough, and Shirley, she supposed. Shirley had been a friend since kindergarten. Ethan was a bit on the crazy side. Maybe he was hormoning, too, just expressing it differently from Kyle. But then there was Lucy. Lucy was the class clown, and not technically one of the geeks. Lila looked at the book and wondered if maybe Lucy had really picked it out. It was not that Lucy was untrustworthy, but she would do anything for a laugh, and that might include making Lila and her friends spend hours in a book which had nothing they needed at all. Lila decided to check it out with her mom, and she snatched up the book and went to the desk. That was OK, because no one was looking at the book just yet. There was too much going on outside the window.

Mary spoke up while Lila was with her mom. “Eddie and I broke up again.” She said.

“Is that good?” Morgan asked. She always asked while Jennifer and Ginger made their usual comments. “Too bad,” and, “Good for you.”

“No, it’s not good.” Mary said. “I got my Princess costume all ready. Eddie was coming as Red Rayder.” They were characters from a video game

“Wear it anyway.” Jennifer insisted.

“Yeah.” Ginger agreed. “Let Red Rayder worry about it.”

“I heard Bobby and Donna broke up, too.” Morgan said.

“Were they ever a couple?” Mary wondered.

Jennifer shrugged while Morgan added a note. “Low class trailer bums.”

“Speaking of low class.” Ginger interrupted and pointed.

Shannah and Kylie came in talking up a storm on their cell phones. The seventh graders, Vanessa and Lori followed, in awe of the older rich girls who modeled new outfits every day and acted like they owned the world. In fact, Lila said so to her mother, but with one addition.

“They act like they own everything but have no idea what to do with it.”

“Hush.” Arosa scolded her daughter, softly, and came out from behind the desk, her hand open. Shannah and Kylie acted all put out, but they handed over the cells to be picked up when the day ended. They were not permitted in school, after all. The eighth graders went one direction, and the seventh graders went another, but sat where they could keep an eye on their eighth grade models.

*****

Arosa slipped the phones in a drawer while her daughter went back to her table. Arosa looked at the clock. The day was nearly over, and she had her date with David on her mind. Was she doing the right thing? He was the first man she had been able to get close to, after her adopted dad, of course, but there were things about her that David did not know. Then again, did she want to get close to him? It would mean roots that might be hard to break; but then, she reminded herself for the millionth time that she would probably never be able to go home.

She closed the drawer with the phones in it and had another thought. How might things have turned out differently if she had such devices in her own world? She looked at Lila and was struck with the notion that Lila might never know the world in which she was born. It was sad to think it. She remembered the day Lila came into the world. Those had been happy days.

“And what shall we call this marvel?” Dunovan had asked. He was so proud of her, and she was so happy for him.

“Lila, sweet.” Arosa said.

“Is that one word or two?” Dunovan asked as if serious. They had already discussed names and Lila had already been decided for a girl, but Arosa gladly played along.

“One word.” She said with a serious expression on her face, and he laughed, and that made her laugh, too. She so seldom heard him laugh, and he had such a wonderful, take your breath away, full of joy kind of laughter that she longed to hear again and again. She sighed. While those were happy days, they were short lived. The Empire was bearing down too hard.

Arosa remembered the poverty in the streets of Enteras, the port city and capitol of the land. It was worse outside the city, and no better up the coast in her home of Nova. The Emperor Kzurga was taking every man, weapon and speck of grain he could for wars in the North and West. The poor people were all but killing themselves in the fields and hills only to go hungry in winter. Though they lived far enough in the south to plant winter wheat as well as summer rye and barley, the climate being more like Florida, though not too different from Georgia, it was never enough for either the Emperor’s collectors or the people. They had to do something. Arosa understood that, even if it left her in a self-imposed exile. She knew they had to try.

She recalled Dunovan’s mother, Callista the cold as Arosa had come to think of her. The woman wanted nothing to do with rebellion. The others ignored her. Arosa found that odd because it was not that they distrusted the woman. When Arosa confronted her Mother-in-law, it was because of her lack of understanding. She tried to get the woman to explain herself on three separate occasions, but it was not until they found themselves unexpectedly alone, a condition that both of them had previously tried hard to avoid, that the woman opened up for the first and only time.

“I will do nothing against you all. Technically, I have no power here. It is all vested in the King, my son, your husband. But someone must be free of taint just in case this rebellion of yours should not succeed. I will not see my land under the thumb of some governor appointed by that madman, Kzurga. So tell me nothing of your plans. Tell me nothing at all. Officially, I know nothing, and what I know I must speak against. If we succeed, my words will not matter. If we fail, I may be the only hope for peace in this place. Now I must leave before we are compromised.” And she left, Arosa feeling very uncomfortable about it all.

*****

The Bell rang.

In seconds, the seventh grade geeks came in, loudly, and headed straight for the geek table. Then the boys arrived, and Lila and her friends hurried to pack their books away.

Chris and Peter sat down by Lila and Jennifer. It was a mutually acceptable arrangement of indecisiveness, partly because Lila, and especially Jennifer were both taller than the boys for the present. Nelson sat across from Ginger who ignored him very readily. “I’m coming as Max Man, with my stuffed dog Maxamillian.” Nelson was saying. They were cartoon characters.

“Figures.” Jordan said, nudging his friend as he sat, but neither he nor Morgan would look at each other. It was another unspoken, temporary agreement. At least they never looked at each other when the others were around. Meanwhile, Eddie, alias Red Rayder, sat next to Mary, alias Princess Ashanti. They spoke quietly for a minute and the others had the good sense not to interrupt, though they all listened. The result was, Eddie and Mary became a couple again. Then Lila’s mom came and shooed them out. They were supposed to go home for supper. The Halloween dance was not scheduled until six, and besides, Arosa had plans of her own.

Series: The Other Earth. Tale: Halloween Story part 3. M/F Story

August 28, 2009M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Morning Dad.” Arosa said as she set a bowl of oatmeal in front of Wendel Carter and kissed his balding head. She walked to the stairs. “Lila, hurry up! You’ll be late for school.”

“I don’t like oatmeal.” Wendel complained, grumpily.

“High cholesterol gets you oatmeal for breakfast.” Arosa said as she stepped back to the refrigerator to pour Lila a glass of orange juice. She paused when she realized the man was staring at her. “What?”

“Best thing I ever did, adopting you and Lila. Even if you treat me like a doddering old fool.” He smiled. Arosa thought that deserved another kiss and she planted one on his forehead this time as she set down the orange juice for Lila. She stuck her head out the back door.

“Barten!” She shouted at the apartment above the garage. She did not see Barten’s pick-up. “Dad?” She asked, turning.

Wendel was in mid bite. “Mmm.” He swallowed quickly. “Barten said he had to get some things done at the High School so he could be free to act as custodian for the Middle School party this evening. He left extra early.”

Arosa nodded, but her mind had already moved on to the next issue. She was back at the foot of the stairs. “Lila!”

“I’ll be right down, Mom.” Lila shouted back. “Sheesh!” She said to herself. She took off the blue top for the second time and put on the lavender one. Mom didn’t like the lavender one. She said it was too revealing, but Lila was thirteen and she decided she could make her own decisions. She looked at herself in the mirror, and then slipped on a sweater. Sometimes it got cool the last day in October, even in Browning, Georgia; so she justified the sweater and skipped down the stairs.

“Thirteen, going on thirty.” Arosa breathed while her daughter smiled as if she did not have a care in the world.

“All posh.” Wendel said.

“Morning Grandpa.” Lila kissed his balding spot. In many ways, including her beauty, Lila was very much like her mother, though neither would admit it. Lila sat and sipped her juice.

“The purple top?” Arosa noticed despite the sweater. Lila ignored her.

“You going out with Mister Correll tonight?” Lila asked, changing the subject.

Arosa frowned but said no more about the top. “Yes. But I’ll be back at the school before the dance is over.” She promised.

Lila looked at her Grandfather who looked back at her and grinned. “Oh, I don’t know about that guy.” Lila and her Grandfather more or less spoke together. It was the phrase Arosa was using lately whenever Lila appeared to show interest in a young man, not that Lila was really interested in anyone, yet.

Arosa looked at them with steel in her eyes. “David Correll is a nice gentleman.” She said. “Besides, I’m thirty-two, not thirteen.” She tweaked her daughter’s nose. “And I’m not exactly the young girl, lost and alone in a strange land anymore.” She added that for Wendel.

“What do I know?” Wendel stood, his oatmeal unfinished. “I just live here.” He went for his briefcase, which he had left in the living room.

“And you, young lady. Ride to school?” Arosa asked while she emptied Wendel’s dish and set it in the dishwasher.

Lila shook her head. “Ginger and Jennifer will be by any minute. We’re walking”

“All right.” Arosa said as she picked up her own briefcase and followed Wendel out the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up.” She shouted back as Lila waved and watched the two cars leave the driveway. Ginger and Jennifer came moments later, and Morgan was with them.

“Did your mom give you any answers for the science test?” Morgan asked.

“She’s the school librarian.” Lila responded with a touch of sarcasm in her voice. “Not the science guy.”

“Only Mister Gross would have a test on Halloween.” Jennifer complained.

Morgan was shrugging. “It was worth a try.”

“How about your Grandpa?” Ginger asked hopefully, but Lila just did the eye roll and shake of the head for an answer.

“Where’s Mary?” Lila asked, as if she didn’t know.

“Walking with Eddie.” Jennifer grinned and someone giggled, and they left, all talking at once so anyone would wonder how they ever heard each other. Lila forgot to lock the door, but it was a small town in the middle of Georgia.

*****

Arosa pulled up to the light with her mind in another world. Perhaps it was her comment about no longer being a stranger in this strange land that triggered it. That and her date that evening, she told herself. She was remembering her first husband, Lila’s father, not that she had any such ideas about David. She furrowed her brow as the light changed.

Prince Dunovan had been a great man. She remembered how she felt at seventeen when they stood before the Priest on her wedding day. Dunovan looked so tall so strong, and so intimidatingly handsome. She remembered turning to her mother and father, the King and Queen of Nova, but all she saw in her father’s eyes was joy and pride, and her mother was crying. Arosa imagined she might cry if Lila married.

She looked again at the Prince. “I promise my fidelity and devotion.” He said. Could she ask for more? She looked to the Queen Mother, Callista, but the woman was stoic, as always. Would Callista like her? It was important to Arosa that Callista like her, but she did not expect it given the cool way the woman had treated her up to that point. And Dunovan’s father? He had died some five years earlier. Dunovan was formally King of Truscas. Would she manage as Queen?

“Arosa.” Dunovan spoke to her softly. She did manage to look into his eyes, and she found welcome there.

“And I will respect you, my husband.” She said, but in her heart she hoped, nay, begged to be able to love him, and be loved by him. That was the one thing she wanted. But thus it had been for ages; that the noble Lord and Lady should wed in a political union, bringing all of the lands and cities of the Bellican Coast closer for a generation. Nova and Truscas would be united, now, in mutual support and succor, as the Priest called it. And she would play her part.

Arosa sniffed as she got out of her car and headed for the Middle School library. She had loved Dunovan indeed, even if it had only been for such a short time.

*****

Barten-Cur was in his pick-up, headed for the hardware store. Stall three in the first floor girl’s room needed some real work. Lady Arosa and Mister Carter had been reluctant to let him get a driver’s license at first, but he showed them. He was a better driver and more respectful of the law than half of the natives on the roads, and that was a fact.

Something came from the woods beside the road and Barten-Cur screeched to a halt. It was a man. While that would have gone by without notice under other circumstances, this one was different. Barten-Cur could not exactly place the uniform, though he guessed it was Truscan, but this man was definitely a soldier. There was no doubt about that. And the man was staring at him.

There was a honk! Someone was behind him, and the soldier turned and trotted back into the woods Barten-Cur started driving again, but he hardly knew what to think. If they were Truscan, that might be bad enough, but if they came on behalf of the Empire, there could be real trouble. Princess Arosa had to be told at once, he thought, but he shouldn’t bother her at work. He had been reprimanded for that over and over. And she had a date tonight with Mister Correll, the High School Principal, as well. It would not do to interrupt her date. No, no, Barten thought. He would have to try and catch her in between work and going out. He hoped he would remember to get to her in time. If not, what could he do? He had to look out for Lila, above all.

Tales of the Other Earth: Halloween Story 2 M/F Story

August 21, 2009M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Wendel Carter stepped out in the early morning light, his briefcase and laptop securely in one hand and a travel mug of blessed coffee in the other. Not a week ago it was still dark in the morning when he left the house, but the spring was on, and another school year would be over before he knew it. He made for the car, but some motion down by the brook caught his eye. At first he thought the Wallabys let their dogs loose again. Browning was a small town, but there were leash laws in the town limits, even if the Wallabys did not like it. Then he heard the arguing. A man and woman were into it. He did not understand a word of what they were saying. It did not sound like English or Spanish, but he knew an argument when he heard one. “Sounds like the school board.” He mumbled to himself. He paused when he got a good look, and the man and woman paused as well when they saw him. Then Wendel nearly dropped his coffee.

The woman was dressed in a long gown of green, which set off her brilliant green eyes and rich earth colored hair that fell from the hood of her open, scarlet cloak. The hood surrounded a very young and pretty face and her hair fell almost to her waist, which was much longer than he was used to seeing. She hardly looked twenty to judge by her face and hands, but she seemed much older since she was not dressed in the kind of skanky clothes so typical of most twenty-year-old girls. She also looked older, he decided, because she had a firm grasp on the hand of what looked like a three or four-year-old; a girl who was also dressed in a gown of sorts. Indeed, they looked like they were on their way to church, and Wendel settled on some such though before he took a closer look at the man.

The man was about Wendel’s age, but like the girl, he also looked much older in certain ways. His face was ugly, to put it mildly, with a big wart on his nose and beady little eyes under very bushy, almost Neanderthal brows. He was not terribly tall, not nearly as tall as the woman, and, in Wendel’s estimation, this made him look more like a dwarf or troll, rather than a man. The man pulled a long blade, something like a Roman style short sword. Wendel took a step back while the man waved it at him and let loose some equally sharp words from his thick lips and near toothless mouth.

The young woman frowned and with her free hand she forced the blade down. She placed the little girl in the ogre’s hands to keep him occupied, which was a very brave thing to do in Wendel’s estimation, given the man’s appearance, and she stepped forward, speaking soothing words in some unknown tongue. She held out her hand, and Wendel automatically set down his briefcase and laptop and raised his own hand to shake; but she grabbed the hand, and there was a white flash of light, and Wendel got very, very dizzy. He needed to sit down to avoid falling down. The woman also needed to sit down, and she did so, facing him.

“Master of Library Science.” The woman said. “Most wonderful, Superintendent of Schools.” It was like she was testing the words to see how they fit in her mouth and on her tongue and lips.

“What hit me?” Wendel asked, sipping his coffee, which he had miraculously kept upright in his hand. The miracle liquid helped a little.

“I am sorry.” The woman said. “But I have encountered many strange things in your world. Ordinarily, I would have only exchanged my language and yours, but in this place I felt I needed some real knowledge of life – in America.” She sounded so apologetic; Wendel was speechless. Then he understood something incredible.

“You mean you picked up English just by touching my hand? Good God!” He was speechless again.

“I am sorry.” The woman repeated her apology. “I should not have invaded the privacy of your mind, but Library Science was there, seemingly unused, and I believe it may be enough to help me adjust in short order.”

Wendel checked quickly. Library Science was still in his mind as well, so she duplicated the knowledge and did not simply take it. He had a Masters in Library Science, and it was where he was headed to get out of the classroom before he had an opportunity for School Administration. He had been Principal of the Middle School while he worked on his Doctorate in Administration. Then the opportunity came up for the Superintendent’s position, and he jumped at it, fool that he was. “Quite all right.” He said at last and he held out his hand a second time. “Wendel Carter.”

The young woman nodded as if she already knew this; but she shook his hand properly this time. “Arosa. Princess of Nova and Queen of Truscas.”

Wendel paused in mid shake. He knew who she was as well, and he also knew something of her story. Apparently she had willingly shared some of herself with him. So she isn’t a thief or a whack-o, he assured himself. But then, he knew that, and he knew one more thing which maybe Arosa did not yet realize. “We need to get you inside.” He said firmly, looking at the three strangers with new eyes. “You must be exhausted.”

“But you will be late for work.” Arosa protested a little as if ready to apologize for a third time.

“Nonsense.” Wendel countered. “I’m the boss. I’ll yell at myself later.” They stood and Arosa turned to Barten-Cur and Lila.

“Come.” She said. “Now is the time to trust in good fortune.” It was spoken in a language Wendel Carter never learned, but he understood every word.

“Remarkable.” He said in the same language as he helped the young woman up the porch steps. The old retainer and the little girl followed.

Reflections: The Four Rules of Great Writing

August 20, 2009August 20, 2009M G Kizzia Leave a comment

1. Write

2. Start at the beginning of the Story and End at the End.

Don’t start with prologues, introductions or background details. That isn’t the beginning of the story.

At the end, characters may have more to say and more to do, but leave that to the reader. Readers like that. If there is a lot more to be said and done, perhaps there is a second story; but for the first story: Start at the beginning of the Story and End at the End.

3. Great writing is not determined by what you put into it, but by knowing what to leave out.

4. Write your own rules. What works for you?

— Michael