Science Fiction

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 16 M/F Story

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            In the hallway on the east side of the auditorium, the four guards posted to the hall were granted an interesting sight.  Four rather large men said “break!” clapped their hands, and jogged to the end of the hall, facing them.  Three got down to rest on one hand, the middle one, who stood a little behind the others, appeared to have a ball of some sort in his hands.

            “Ready.  Set!”  The man standing behind the others spoke.  “Blue, thirty-two.  Blue thirty-two.”  He shouted, “Hut!”  And everything happened rather quickly. 

            The linebacker was the quickest, but he had to duck beneath a sword to tackle his man.  Ducking was not hard.  His reflexes were more than up to the job.  The tackled man went down hard, of course, and he did not get back up for a while.  The linebacker, on the other hand, got right up and danced a little dance.

            The center was naturally slower than the others, but he slammed his man into the wall with such force, he busted one of the man’s ribs through the chain mail and the man slid to the floor completely unconscious. 

            The defensive end had the hardest time of it.  His man saw the bruiser headed right toward him and dropped his sword and ran for his life.  Fortunately, the defensive end was well practiced at running down quarterbacks.  He caught the smaller man just before the man was able to turn the corner, and he smothered him under three hundred pounds of bone, muscle and meat.

            The quarterback actually struck his man first.  The football slammed perfectly into the man’s face.  The man dropped his blade and became completely discombobulated.  By the time he pulled himself together, the quarterback was on him.  Tyler was not much in the tackling department, but he was a back-up kicker since the eighth grade.  The man looked up as the quarterback kicked him hard enough to send him through the uprights.

                                                ————

            “Now.”  Captain Aaron said as he led his team down the other hall.  They moved in military fashion, Missy and the Captain with pistols drawn, and the two marines with their rifles.  They halted several feet from the Truscan soldiers who had drawn their swords and looked ready to fight.  “Please hold your shield out for a moment.”  Captain Aaron said.

            The Truscans looked at each other in bewilderment, but the one on the end complied with the strange request.

            “Ricky, put a hole in the shield.”  Captain Aaron ordered, but Ricky had already raised his rifle in anticipation and fired, giving the poor Truscans a start.  When the Truscan pulled his shield back, he showed the big hole to the others.

            “That could have been your chest.”  Captain Aaron said, calmly.  “Please put down your weapons and surrender.  We have no wish for anyone to be harmed.  Three complied immediately, but one turned to run.  Captain Aaron fired, catching the man in the leg, and the man went down.  He moaned and held his leg like it was coming off.

            “Pick him up.”  The Captain waved to two of the Truscans, and they retrieved their comrade, supporting him with his arms around their shoulders.  “Missy.  Gather the Truscan weapons.”

            “Aye-Aye, Skipper.”  Missy said.  She couldn’t help it.  Captain Aaron waved the prisoners back toward the gym, though he brought them through the hall that went around the gym to the cafeteria.  He kept his gun on the free soldier while the marines, Ricky and Tamika brought up the rear.  They were still mumbling.

            “Captain Ahab made that too easy.”  Ricky complained.

            “You mean the Gorton Fisherman.”  Tamika responded.

                                                            ————

            The fight in the auditorium went about like one would expect.  Three superheroes, all former seventh graders, broke in from both sides, now that the halls were clear.  One knocked the lights out of one guard, and caught two more in his traps.  One took two out before they hardly noticed him.  The third also clocked her pair, but the other six soldiers, the wizard, the Count and the Queen made it out of the side door around her preoccupation; and the Wicked Witch of the West went with them.

            “Should we follow?”  The first asked and the woman wanted to follow as well, but the other superhero shook his head.  Auditorium’s clear.  They were driven out and we have prisoners to return to base.  They won’t go far.  The superhero carried one unconscious man on each shoulder, as did the other man.  The woman only carried one, but that was so she could keep a blade ready for the two that had been caught in the traps.  They went to the east hall, out the door opposite the one the Queen had taken. 

            Meanwhile, the Queen screamed once more.  How could she have been taken by surprise like that?  She slapped the wizard on the back of the head and slugged the Count in the arm.  At least the Count had the decency to say, “Ouch!”  They went to the office, only to run into Lila and her crew.  Several things happened then before the parties separated.

            The Queen touched the scarecrow’s arm as they bumped into one another.  It was not intended, but the Queen’s anger at that point was hot enough to set the straw on fire.  Lila panicked.

            “Grampy!  Grampy!”  She yelled, swirling around the poor scarecrow’s head almost too fast to see.  Princess Ashanti watched for a second until it made her dizzy.  While the Queen backed away, some look of distress on her face, Lila shot up to the ceiling and set off the sprinklers.  As the water fell, Ginger let out a sound that was almost a meow of complaint, and she darted down the hallway, looking for a dry spot.  The Wicked Witch of the West also ran off for fear that she might melt.

            Somehow, the wizard’s crystal in a box ended up in the hands of the pirates.  Perhaps that was inevitable.  What was less anticipated, was finding a semi-conscious Count Severas in the hands of an elf and a ninja.

            While the Princess helped put out the scarecrow’s arm, the scarecrow shouted at Lila to turn the sprinklers off.  She did, eventually.

            “Now the fire department will come.”  The scarecrow commented.  Thus far, the town had not been infected by the invasion of armed and dangerous soldiers.  It would be better for all not to open that can of worms.  “I’ll square it with Bob when he comes.”  The scarecrow thought, but then, perhaps Bob might not take the word of a scarecrow.

            “But Grampy.  Are you all right?”  Lila was very worried.

            “Yes, dear.”  The Scarecrow said.  “There is some fresh straw back in the gym.  I’ll just restuff and be as good as new.”

            Meanwhile, all but two of the prisoners taken in the office, escaped with the Queen.  Then Princess Ashanti screamed.  Red Rayder had an arrow in the back and he wasn’t moving.  Peter the ninja and Jennifer the elf handed the stunned Count to the pirates, caught Red Rayder up and carried him along.  They brought him through the gym, raising the eyebrows of more than one dancer as they did.  Luckily, though, people were dancing again, now that the internal rain shower had ended, and so most did not notice, or at least they did not realize exactly what they were seeing.  They got Red Rayder to the cafeteria as quick as they could, and people made way to lay him on a table.  Doctor George was just prepared to extract the bullet from a soldier’s thigh when they called him straight to the fallen young man.

            “Who is this?”  Doctor George asked as he looked closely.

            “Eddie Bricker.”  Lila said, without the least bit of fairy cuteness in her voice.

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 15 M/F Story

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            “If you start in with that bubble, bubble business, you will be driven from my kitchen.”  Chef Brian was serious.

            “Never fear, great Lord.”  Brittany, the witch spoke for the three.  “We are just making a tonic for our majesty, Queen Jessica.  Her nerves, you know.  All of these events are quite beyond her.  Her subjects are in rebellion.”

            “Ha!  Nothing of the kind.”  Chef Brian responded.  “I say, though, I am a bit put off about the idea of you finding everything you need for your witches’ brew in my kitchen.”

            “Alas, not everything, great Lord.”  Brittany said, sadly.  “But some.  Indeed some.”  She looked back to where Nichole and Molly were dancing around the biggest pot they could find, adding whatever they could to the water, which was boiling, it must be said, without the benefit of a fire beneath it.

            People were coming regularly now in and out of the cafeteria.  The dancing was great, but one did get hot and tired, and Chef Brian’s reputation was growing.  Maria, the waitress would have been overwhelmed with customers if the stewardess had not volunteered to pitch in.  Then also, some came to have their fortunes told.  Colonel Nate was presently hovering over a seated Karen who was trying hard to keep her hoops from shooting up into the gypsy’s face and upsetting the fortune.  And, of course, the geisha had her hands full with those who preferred tea.  Truscan soldiers were mingling freely with the rest, though to be sure, the karate champions and the officers of the law were keeping their watchful eyes open.

            “Doctor.  Doctor George, come quick.”  Snow White was yelling from the kitchen door.  Doctor George and Nurse Shirley got up slowly.  Ethan the Dentist came along, too, just in case there was trouble.

            “What is it, Ms White?”  The Doctor asked.  Snow White hushed him and brought him to a storage room by the back door of the kitchen while Chef Brian complained.  “There are too many improper persons in here, contaminating the food!  How can an artist create with so many interruptions!”

            There was a nun hiding in the closet and she was holding her belly and moaning.

            “So she’s pregnant.”  Doctor George said without the least emotion.  Nurse Shirley smiled.

            “But it hurts.”  The nun said.  “I feel like something is kicking me right here.”  Nurse Shirley hid her smile while the Doctor got his stethoscope and checked.

            “Yes.”  The doctor said.  “That would be the baby.”  He put the nun’s hand to feel for herself.  Then the Doctor had a thought.  “Elizabeth, isn’t it?”  The Doctor asked and the nun nodded.

                                                            ————

            In the hall between the cafeteria and the gym, Bobby and Donna the homeless hobos were collecting a crowd as well.  It was all “This Land is Your Land,” and “Blowing in the Wind,” but people loved it as a change of pace.  Donna was on the guitar and Bobby was on his harmonica.  Everybody sang, but even with all of those off key voices, it was a relatively quiet break from the music in the gym.

                                                            ————

            “Are you prepared for the onslaught?”  The Space Gladiator asked.  Everyone nodded.

            “Piece of cake.”  Quarterback Tyler said.  He and his three football players were each as big as the Gladiator, who was no small person.  Captain Aaron nodded for his crew, the ones that used to be the eighth grade color guard.  They walked to the hall that ran down the west side of the auditorium and waited while Aaron checked his watch.  The marines, Ricky and Tamika, were in the back checking on their rifles. They were making jokes.

            “Captain looks like Captain Ahab.”  Ricky insisted.

            “More like the Gorton fisherman.”  Tamika disagreed. 

            “Quiet.”  Captain Aaron hushed them.

            “Aye-aye, Skipper.”  Missy said with a salute.

            Aaron frowned.  “So now you’re Gilligan?”  Missy looked momentarily surprised and appeared flustered by the question.  Ricky and Tamika tried not to laugh.  “Ready.”  Captain Aaron said, and at once, they got serious.  Four things were going to happen at more or less the same time.

                                                            ————

            The Queen was becoming frustrated.  These adults appeared to be confused about who they were, not to mention who the children were.  None of them could help her find the girl.  It was as if they never heard of Lila.  She had left the dark skinned man alone, and berated Count Severas for drawing blood when the man merely tried to escape.  Surely he could have been stopped without having to be cut.

            “Barten-Cur!”  The Queen yelled in a tone of voice to make everyone in the room duck.  She was out of patience.  She struck the custodian with a surge of power, but Barten-Cur resisted.  He was not going to talk.  “Wizard!”  The Queen commanded, and the wizard stepped up to hold the Queen’s hand.  With the first touch, the force being exerted on Barten-Cur doubled.  The Queen’s green stream of magic turned a muddy green color with the addition of the wizard’s cherry colored magic.  Barten-Cur began to mumble.

            “Muba-muba-muba.”

            “Count.  Count Severas!”  The Queen commanded in a sharp, quick voice as if she hated to expend the energy needed to mouth the words.  Count Severas took her other hand, and again, the magic redoubled, now turning an oak brown color as the Count’s deep brown, almost black magic was added on.

            “MUBA-MUBA-MUBA.”  Barten-Cur merely increased in volume.

            “Oh!”  The Queen yelled and threw both hands away at once.  The magic immediately ceased.  Magic was generally good for manipulating matter and energy, but it had limits against the mind and heart.

            “I could make a potion of truth if I had the ingredients.”  The wizard suggested.  It would have been more effective than trying to force the issue, but, unfortunately, the ingredients were not available.

            In the balcony, Tom kept Rachel in her seat that whole time.  There was far too much magic down below for a couple of mere vampires to deal with.  Rachel complained all the same.

            “But I am really, really hungry.”  She said.  Tom was too.

                                                            ————

            Lila drew the layout of the offices in mid air.  The Wicked Witch of the West wasn’t there.  They had just missed her.  The Queen had been one step ahead of them and came to fetch her and take her off to the auditorium; but the other teachers were all still there, such as they were.

            “Jane Austin has the Principal baby in her arms over here, next to Mister Johnson with the bandage on his arm.  Ms Duncan and Mister Gross are in the back getting all kissy-face.”  Lila turned up her nose at the thought.

            “I thought they were married.”  Sir Chris said, checking his broadsword for the tenth time.

            “They are.”  The scarecrow nodded.  “Unfortunately, not to each other.”

            “Eww.”  Lila said, and she almost wiggled enough to disrupt the mid-air map she was carefully trying to draw out of fairy dust.  Ginger let out a low growl and licked her paw.

            “Anyone seen Max and Maxamillian?”  Jordan the pirate interrupted.

            Red Rayder and the Princess nodded.  “They fell off the roof back near the cafeteria door.”  Red said.  Jennifer rolled her elfin eyes, but the ninja and the pirates all snickered.

            “Quiet!”  Lila stomped her foot again.  Snap!  It sounded like a cap pistol even if she was only stomping on air.  “Be quiet, before I forget.  The rest, that’s the flamenco dancer, Ms. Finster the beautiful young flower child, Coach Beemer, alias the Masked Marvel, and Mozart are all in this area by the coke machine.”

            “They got a coke machine in the office?”  Sir Chris did not know this.

            Lila ignored the interruption.  “There are six guards.  Two by the inside door, two by the outside door and two between the two groups of teachers.”  There.  She got through it all.  Now it was time to act.

            “Away we go.”  Red Rayder said, and before anyone could stop him, he ran and jumped through the access door, falling right through the ceiling tile below.  The others were obliged to follow, with Lila complaining.

            “Why did I bother to scout and make a map?”

            By the time she and her scarecrow got to the room below, everything was settled.  Sir Chris and Red had the two by the outside door at sword point.  The pirates Morgan and Jordan had the two in the center surrendered, with their hands high in the air.  The growling jaguar helped convince the soldiers to keep their hands up.  The two by the inside door were stuck to the walls, one having wet himself. 

            “Only counts as one.”  Peter the ninja said while elf Jennifer stuck her tongue out at the man.  She retrieved her four arrows that had pinned her man at the shoulders and collar a foot off the ground.  Not a drop of blood was spilled, but the man would not be fighting again for a time.  He fell to the floor, shivering.  Meanwhile, Peter retrieved his ninja stars.  His man was not a foot off the ground like the other man, but he was just as effectively pinned to the wall.  There was a little blood in one shoulder and that got a razz from the elf.

            “Finished already?”  Lila protested with another snap! of her foot.  She missed it all!

One Writer’s Writing Secrets 6: Blogging or Writing?

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Blogging is not the same as writing.  I am sorry.  I know what you have been told, but I don’t care about that.  Writing is writing.  Blogging is blogging and that is that.

            I remember an article in the New York Times.  It was so many years ago, I can’t remember who wrote it, but apparently he was thrilled that he had gotten his first word processor and would not have to painstakingly type his stories anymore (I said it was a long time ago). 

            So I don’t remember who wrote it (though it may come to me), but I remember the gist of the article to this day because it was about processing words rather than writing them, and the author discovered that with no great effort on his part, he could process words to his heart’s content and never have to come up for air again; which is to say, he could just write and write and never have to bother with all of those petty annoyances like punctuation or spelling, which were all taken care of automatically by this new marvel, and he was thrilled except that after a while it got to be a bit like the sorcerer’s apprentice where the sentence just went on and on with no end in sight; like the never ending song that went round and round in his head but never managed to get to the end, and so now he was stuck processing and processing and he no longer knew if it was day or night because he could not lift his head from the screen long enough to so much as look out the window since the words kept coming at a furious pace and he dared not stop but had to put them down while they were fresh and inspired because the last person who neglected his muse… You get the idea.

            Blogging is a lot like that.  True, since those heady days, most of us have learned how to write on a word processor.  It may be that in the future, some may learn to write on a blog.  (Obviously, I am not referring to stories posted on the blog as I do myself, but actually blogging stories in the true sense of the word).  It isn’t writing.  It is transitory, once down and done, momentary feelings posted for all the world to see.  There is little effort involved (in some cases very little), and while some may be good at it, funny or entertaining or informative, it is like a breath of air – once breathed and it is gone forever.

            Now, I am not against blogging.  I blog myself.  (I blog, therefore I am)?  I am just saying that writing, at least good writing, is the result of effort, work, rewriting, honing, sweat, toil, blood and tears (thank you Winston).  It is craft, even art, and designed to have some permanence that blogging, by its very nature, cannot have.

            Writing is like the Mona Lisa.  (OK, my writing is at times more like dogs playing poker, but still)!  Blogging is more like photography.  Everyone has a camera.  Even phones have cameras.  And some photos are great, but eventually they are lost on some memory card and buried, perhaps forever.  Writing gets hung on the wall, maybe only the living room and not in the Louvre, but all the same, writing has a kind of permanence that can bring a reader back again and again.

                                                                                                                                                                                          

Writing Tip 6:

So, are you a writer or a blogger or both?  I believe DaVinci would have loved a camera, and probably a blog, but we would all have to learn to read in a mirror.

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 14 M/F Story

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Chef Brian was making some great food despite the fact that his ingredients were school supplies.  His mystery meat a l’orange was to die for.

            “So what’ll it be?”  Waitress Maria asked between blowing and popping a big bubble with her bubblegum. 

            “Two fresh grilled cheese ala Brian.”  Warren said.  “And water.”  He turned to Kate.  “I always get so hungry after a competition.”  He confessed. 

            “Just a salad.”  Kate said.  “Me too, but I have to watch my figure.”

            “To drink?”  Maria asked, trying one more bubblegum bubble.

            “Water.”  She said, and she frowned at the Police Officer and Sheriff guarding the prisoners who only looked interested in the doughnuts and coffee.  Sadly, the doughnuts did look good to her and it took some strong will power to resist.

            “You did great out there, by the way.”  Warren said.

            “Huh?”  Kate turned to him and smiled, and almost turned a little red.  She had hoped Warren would think she did well.  Indeed, she did not mind the look Warren gave her when she took off her black belt to tie up the soldiers; not at all.  She wanted Warren to look at as much as he wanted; but then, she supposed he was talking about the fight.  “Who is the new one?”  She asked, distracting Warren by pointing with her head.

            A Truscan soldier had his face to the window, spying on them.  Warren was inclined to go and get the man, but another Truscan told Warren keep his seat.

            “I’ll fetch him.”  The big soldier said, standing stiffly and walking to the window in flip flops.  He waved vigorously to the man outside, indicating that he should come in and he pointed to the door.  The man outside hesitated, but eventually came to open the door though he did not come all the way in.

            “Sergeant?”  The man wanted to be sure what he was seeing.

            “Come in.  Come in.”  The big Sergeant reached out and grabbed the man by the wrist.  He had to yank him into the cafeteria.

            “But the Queen Regent sent me around the building to see if there are any more doors.  I have to report back.”

            “Later, later.”  The Sergeant said, nodding to the two karate masters.  “I want you to meet someone first.”

            “But.”  The man hardly got that out before the Sergeant forced him to the floor, to sit on the cushions. 

            “Welcome.”  A woman dressed all in silk with a pure white face and the reddest lips imaginable came and took off the soldier’s boots.  She massaged his feet, and the soldier moaned from the pleasure while his Sergeant laughed.  Then she washed the soldier’s feet with water and dried them with her long black hair.

            “She doesn’t speak the local language very well.  They say she speaks Japanese, whatever that is.  I call her Geisha, though I think that is what she is, not her name.”  Geisha smiled for her Sergeant and poured the newcomer some tea.

            “She has the longest black lashes on the most remarkable eyes I have ever seen.”  The soldier admitted his astonishment.

            “Ladyfinger?”  Geisha held out a tray.

            “Try one.”  The Sergeant encouraged.  “Chef Brian made those with cookies and something called Peanut But and Chocolate syrup, or something like that.”

            The soldier would have responded if his mouth was not busy tasting the luxury.  His eyes rolled up and he became speechless.

            “God, they’re good.”  The Sergeant agreed, taking another one for himself.

                                                ————

            “Well, Shirley.  Not much for us to do.”  Doctor George sipped his coffee.

            “Let’s hope it stays that way.”  The Sheriff said, sipping his coffee as well.

            “Where’s Ethan?”  Shirley was concerned about the dentist.  He was quite mad and everyone knew it. 

            “I’m watching.”  Officer Lindsey pointed.  Ethan was with the gypsy woman.

            “So what is my fortune?”  Ethan was nearly begging.

            “Ah!”  The gypsy woman said, peering more deeply into her plastic ball.  Crystal was hard to come by in the school cafeteria.  “I see.  I see.”

            “What?  What!”  Ethan leaned forward as if trying to see with his own eyes.  “I’m going to die?  Someone is going to die?  Please tell me someone is going to be injured really, really badly and suffer.”

            “Quiet!”  The gypsy said sharply.  “I see you pulling your weight in the current crisis, but that is all.”  The gypsy looked at Ethan as if she did not like Ethan very much, but Ethan was not repulsed.

            “That’s all right.”  He said with some glee.  “I like pulling things.  Preferably without anesthesia!”

                                                ————

            Scarecrow-Grandpa climbed up the ladder to the hole near the gym ceiling.  It was his idea, so he said he had to be first.  True, he slipped about ten feet up and splattered on the gym floor, and this did not embolden everyone’s confidence; but Grandpa was no worse for wear, only needing to be restuffed in a few places.

            “Carefully Grampy.”  Lila said with a seriously concerned look in her little eyes.  She was getting cuter all of the time and Morgan the pirate even commented that she now understood why Captain Hook got so easily taken in.

            The scarecrow made it on the second try and Chris, the knight followed.  The ninja and elf made it in record time.  They seemed to be competing.  Then Lila tried her magic on Maxamillian first.  He was heavy, but she could levitate him easily enough while Max Man climbed.  Then she levitated Ginger the Jaguar, as everyone was calling her.  Ginger did not like feeling helpless and let out a few roars of protest.  The two pirates came next and Red Rayder and the Princess brought up the rear.

            “Think, thinky think.”  Lila said to herself, tapping her temple with her face all scrunched up.  It was getting hard to remember some of their real names.  Red and Ashanti seemed to always have been Red and Ashanti.  “Mary and Eddie.”  She said proudly to herself as she settled on the scarecrow’s shoulder at the front of the column.  “I think.”  She added in all honesty.

            It was narrow going in the small room by the hole.  They had to crawl on their hands and knees for a short way before it would open up again.  They tried not to get tangled in the electric chords, or stick their feet through a hole to the balcony, and they tried to keep quiet, though they were a large enough crowd.  A few yards in and their path turned to the right where they would find an access door to the roof of the art and music rooms.  That was the roof that would lead them to the roof above the offices.  The scarecrow was not sure, but he believed there was another access door there that would let them into the ceiling area above the actual offices.

            Lila and the scarecrow stopped and looked out into the room where the stage lighting was done.  They had to let Chris the knight and some of the firmer hands pass by for them to get the access door open.  “My hands are too flimsy and yours are too small.”  The scarecrow told her.  Lila nodded.  She did have the smallest hands she had ever seen, and, in fact, everything about her was small.  She was just thinking about the implications of that when her scarecrow suddenly lurched forward.

            “It doesn’t have any blood in it.”  Rachel said as she removed her fangs from the straw neck.

            “But the others do.”  Tom encouraged, pointing to the crew crossing behind the straw man.

            Lila screamed and lit up like a miniature sun.  Perhaps it was fairy instinct, or some other, more innate magic, but both Tom and Rachel hissed, threw their arms up to cover their eyes and backed away to hide in the shadows.

            “Hurry.”  The scarecrow shouted behind to the others.  He only had to say it once.  They all knew the vampires for what they were.

            “Shamey shame!”  Lila said, shaking her finger at the two cowering in the corner, trying to escape the light.  She would have flown up into their faces if the scarecrow had not pinched her leg.  “Grandpa!”  Lila protested, but the scarecrow was already backing toward the door.  Ginger had just gone through and Jennifer, the elf, was last before Lila and her scarecrow.  Meanwhile, Link and Peter the ninja had somehow managed to rig the roof access door.  Once the scarecrow was through, the door was slammed shut and it was effectively locked from their side so the vampires could not get at them.  One fist hammered enormously from the other side, bending the metal slats in the door ever so slightly, but the vampires would not be able to get at them that way.

            “I wonder what other nasties may be running around.”  Sir Chris said, and everyone shuddered as they crossed the open roof.  Halloween was not known for its’ angels.

                                                ————

            At that moment there was a knock on the door of room 204.  The children looked up.  The knock became desperate, and the two dressed as ghosts came tumbling out of the closet.  They were mostly still dressed.

            “The door’s locked.”  The devil girl and the skeleton girl got up and went to the door window.  The dead lawyer and zombie opted to keep their seats.

            “The dance is half over!”  The Grim Reaper complained, scattering the cards across the room.

            “Hey!”  The demon protested.  He thought he had a winning hand.

            With a little hand waving, they convinced the person outside to turn the handle.  A woman came pushing into the room and she slammed the door before anyone could stop her.  The devil girl threw her hands up and looked at the ceiling, but the skeleton girl gasped.  “It’s Cleopatra!”  And for all practical purposes, it was.

            “Hush.”  Cleopatra said, hiding against the wall by the door.  “You have to hide me.  I’m being chased by a man.”  Her English was heavily accented, like it was a foreign language and she was having trouble remembering.

            The boys were staring and the ghoul suggested, “I could chase you.”

            Cleopatra frowned at the joke.  She paused to make sure she was remembering the right words.  “No.  I mean a man.”  She repeated, and lowered her voice an octave on the word “man.”

            “I’m in love.”  Scream whispered.

            “Hey!  Aren’t you dead or something?”  The devil girl asked in all seriousness.

            “Silly girl.”  Cleopatra said stroking the girl’s cheek with her hand in a very motherly act.  “I’m right here.”  And she added something in a language that could only have been Egyptian.

            “Cleopaateera!”  They heard the voice in the hall.  “Cleo, babe!”

            Cleopatra quickly switched off the light, but the man in the hall noticed and came to the door.  He opened it slowly.  The light came back on and the children shouted.  Pimp Kyle came in, confused by all the sudden noise.  He came all of the way into the room before he realized where Cleopatra was.  Cleopatra screamed and scooted out the door and ran down the hall while the devil girl and the skeleton got between the pimp and the hallway.  The pimp merely smiled at the children, spun on his heels and shoved the girls out of the way with the word, “Move.”  He shut the door behind him.  The demon immediately tried stabbing his rubbery-plastic knife into his facemask, but this time the devil girl and the skeleton were outside.  They only teased the others a little before letting them out.

                                                ————

            Miraz came shooting down the curved slide for the tenth time before he found Opas, swinging on the bars.  “We better not tell Captain Tor about this stuff.”  Miraz said.

            “What?”  Opas was hanging upside down.

            “He’ll turn it into training equipment and take all of the fun out of it.”  Miraz concluded.

            “Ah, yes.”  Opas agreed.  “See.  This is a very interesting position, swinging upside down like this.  I can feel my brains rushing to my head.”

            “Didn’t know you had any.”  Miraz said.

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 13 M/F Story

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            The guards at the east door were vigilant.  The Queen was not going to catch them napping.

            “Muggas, do you hear something?”  One asked.

            “What’s that?”  Muggas did not seem to hear anything in particular.

            “Sounds like wheels rolling against this hard surface stuff, whatever it is, you know, like on the roads.”

            “You’re dreaming, Arias.”  Muggas spoke right before a rollerblader went zipping past, laughing at them.

            “Like that sound.”  Arias said, pointing to where the rollerblader disappeared around the corner.  Muggas was simply staring.  A moment later, the rollerblader came back from the other direction.  This time she hit both guards on the head with a billy club before she was out of reach.  Her speed and surprise was such that the guards could hardly react beyond putting their hands to their heads and saying “Ouch!”

            “All right.  Put your hands up.”

            “You are under arrest.”

            The guards looked at each other.  A man and a woman, both in uniform, though different uniforms, had sneaked up during the confusion.  They appeared to be holding something, but since the Tuscans did not recognize the hand guns, theirs being a world still stuck in the late Middle Ages, they pulled their swords in response.

            “Ever shoot anyone?”  The Sheriff asked.

            “Heck no, Wayne, and neither have you.”  The Police Officer responded.

            “OK, Lindsey.  So what if we’re in the seventh grade.”  The Sheriff said.

            “What are you talking about?  I’m a traffic cop.”  The Police Officer responded in a way that showed the magic was really beginning to work.  Meanwhile, the guards who had waited through this strange exchange of words, finally decided to act.  They each took one step toward their antagonists when the rollerblader, who was a professional in the ring type rollerblader, came back and body slammed the guards into the wall, dislodging their swords and sending them to their knees.  The Sheriff and Police officer jumped, and though there was a bit of a struggle, it was only a moment before both guards were handcuffed.

            “I got mine, county mounty.”  The Police officer shouted, raising her hands like she was at a rodeo.

            “This is not a hog tying contest.”  The Sheriff said, clicking his handcuffs tight. 

While they lead the prisoners back toward the cafeteria, the Police officer could not resist the shout.  “Hey!  No rollerblades on school property!  There are kids around here that might get hurt!”

                                                            ————

            Donna the hobo and Bobby the homeless bum stood side by side looking out the window at the end of the hall between the gym and the cafeteria.  Then they looked at each other for a long time before Donna finally spoke.

            “I don’t want to fight anymore.”  She pushed her hair back with a hand, but when it didn’t stay, she tried blowing it with her lower lip pushed out.

            “No reason to fight.”  Bobby responded.  “We’re older now and all of those things we used to argue about no longer seem so important.”

            Donna nodded and looked up into Bobby’s eyes.  “Now we have the whole world stretched out before us.  Ours for the taking.”

            “Who wants it?  You can keep it.  I am much happier being free of it all.”

            “But we’re broke.  We have no home.”

            “So?”  Bobby took her by the arms.  “We may be broke, but we’re not poor.  Poverty is a state of mind, and I feel rich when I’m with you.”

            Donna moved in for a real hug.  “I always knew I liked you.”  She said, and her lips turned up at the corners in a genuine, comfortable smile.  “Funny.”  She said.  “I can’t remember much after living in a trailer park and being in the middle school.”

            “Tornado Heaven.”  Bobby referred to the trailer park and Donna laughed and pulled away to face him.  “It is funny,” he said.  “But I don’t remember much after that either.  I suppose it doesn’t matter, though.  Right now we are free, without a care in the world.”

            “There does seem to be a lot going on here, though.”  Donna said, looking around.

            “Just worldly madness.”  Bobby said.  “Ignore it and hopefully it will go away.”

            At that moment, Babette came screaming out of the back door of the gym.  She ran the hallway, pausing only briefly to dust the door handle before opening the cafeteria door and resuming her scream.

            “The world gone mad.”  Donna said softly as she slipped her arm around Bobby’s waist.  Bobby responded with his arm over her shoulder and with his other hand, he pulled out a harmonica on which he began to blow a sprightly little tune.

                                                            ————

            Rachel, the vampire had the airline pilot backed up to the wall.  The man was trying not to scream, but it was hard, looking at the size of those teeth.  Luckily, Tom caught Rachel by the hand.

            “Not here.”  Tom said.  “It’s too crowded.”  He looked around to see who might be watching.

            “But I’m hungry.”  Rachel protested.

            “Soon.”  Tom assured her.  “I think first we ought to repair to the rafters and get a good look around at the feast.  Don’t worry, my dear, the feast will be here for some time.

            Rachel gave a growl to the pilot, which caused him to yelp and faint.  She was clearly ready for supper, but reluctantly had to agree with her man.  There were too many people watching.  They became bats and flew up, high over the gym.  They found a hole in the wall at the top of a long ladder, and went in.  It was a storage area for the auditorium, which was over on the other side.  There were light fixtures for stage lights and chords everywhere, and from a couple of places, where there were holes in the floor, they could look down on the balcony below.

            “Come on.”  Rachel tugged on Tom’s hand, after they had resumed their human forms.  She had heard something, so he followed.  They climbed down a shorter ladder to the balcony and sat to watch what was happening on the stage in the distance.

            “I want that girl found!”  A woman was shouting.  Tom understood that this was the Queen.  “Our whole reason for coming was to get the girl and get out before anyone was the wiser.”

            “Majesty.”  The man, Count Severas, who slapped the Principal and cut Mister Johnson spoke up.  “If your wizard was any good at his job.”  The Queen slapped the man and then kicked the wizard.

            “Count Severas.”  She started to yell at the man she slapped.  Then she seemed to change her mind.  “Well, Wizard?”

            “Majesty.  I was told there was no magic in this world.  The girl should have been easy to find.  She should have stood out like a stain on a white shirt.”

            “And?”  The Queen had clearly lost all patience.

            “And there is magic all over this building now.  This crystal machine was not designed for such a delicate selection of one among many, and in the strange atmosphere of this world there is much interference with the crystal.  What does “Ta-do-run-run” mean?”  The Queen lifted her foot but the wizard jumped out of range.  “I did find the retainer.”  He pointed out.

            Barton-Cur was sitting quietly between two guards.

            “Yes.”  The Queen turned on him with less than a lovely smile.  “I understand your family has served the house of Nova for generations, and that you are a bit of a wizard yourself.”

            “A very good one, actually.”  Count Severas said from a safe distance.

            “I take it you are responsible for the magic that is everywhere in this building at present.”  The Queen ignored Severas and Barton-Cur nodded.  “Barton-Cur, isn’t it?”  The Queen asked as if she had heard nothing in the party room.  Barton-Cur nodded, and if he had been wiser, he might have wondered what game she was playing.  “You know where the girl is, don’t you?”  Barton-Cur nodded again.  “And will you tell me?”  Barton-Cur shook his head, vigorously.  The Queen screamed and turned to look at the men who were still holding the hilts of their swords, upright.  The cut that severed those swords could not have been made cleaner with a diamond saw.

            “I could make him talk.”  Count Severas suggested.

            “And what have you done to the children?”  The Queen asked, ignoring the Count.  Barton-Cur shook his head again and the Queen screamed once more. 

            Rachel in the balcony giggled and both vampires had to struggle not to applaud the performance so far.

                                                            ————

            The two guards at the front entrance saw the peculiar person at a good distance.  They watched as the big feet brought her closer with a slap, slap on the sidewalk.  The clown grinned when she was close enough and squeezed her big red nose twice.  Honk-a!  Honk-a!

            “What a strange creature.” 

            “Here!  Get away.  You’re not allowed in here right now.”

            The clown did a handstand and a cartwheel that took her within arms reach of the guards.  “Have you seen this?”  She whipped out three balls and began to juggle.  One guard stiffened, but the other relaxed, just a little.

            “I’ve seen better than that.”  The first said.

            The clown frowned and added a fourth ball.  When the guard still shook his head, the clown added a fifth.

            “No sale.”  The stiff guard said.

            “What?  I thought that was quite good.”  The other disagreed.        

            The clown stopped juggling and looked so sad for a moment, the guards almost bent to comfort her.  “I know!”  The clown brightened instantly.  “Toss me your knives.”  The guards looked at each other while the clown began again with three balls.  “Just the little ones.”  The clown asked sweetly.  “Please.”  The one who liked the act tossed his over and the clown caught it and began juggling the knife with the balls.

            “Hey!”  The other guard started to admonish his fellow but since nothing seemed to be going on other than juggling, he eventually pulled his own knife.  To be sure, he threw it a little hard, but the clown caught it all the same, and then added more balls until it was five balls again and two knives flying through the air.  Even the skeptic was impressed, and the other guard had is jaw open.

            “That really is excellent.”  He said, right before the two black belts, formerly seventh grade members of the school color guard, jumped down on them from the front porch roof.  If the guards remained conscious for two seconds, that would be giving the guards too much credit.  The guards got tied with the black belts themselves, even if Kate had to expose herself a bit to do it. 

            “Come on, Lucy.”  She said.  “We need your help getting them back to detention.”  The clown did not move.  “It is Lucy isn’t it?”  Kate asked.

            “Clowns don’t have names.”  Lucy decided, but she helped Kate get her prisoner to his feet.  “Mind if I keep the knives?  Sort of a memento.”  The clown asked, but the guard was hardly conscious enough to respond.

                                                            ————

            Up in room 204, the ghoul clicked his nails against his cards.  He was deliberately drawing out the tension, and the Grim Reaper tried to peek.  The ghoul finally spoke, though the other boys could hardly see the smile beneath the mask.  “Go fish.”

            The demon tried to remain calm, taking a moment to adjust his own mask, which kept slipping down into his vision.  Then he pulled out his rubbery-plastic knife and repeatedly stabbed the remaining cards.  Scream and the demon laughed.

One Writer’s Writing Secrets 5: Don’t just write what you know: reflect.

M G Kizzia 2 Comments

            My father was a very good New York writer and the editor of several magazines over his working life.  He first started seriously typing for a railroad brigade in the war, making the trip from England to Normandy in the twenty-first (or something) wave.  (And he could type a gazillion words per minute on his old Royal, a manual no less).

            After J-School at Northwestern, he was tapped to edit Railway Age.  He did a brief stint at American Builder before he ended up editing Banking Magazine (The Journal of the American Bankers Association) and he wrote the Bank Director’s Briefing (newsletter) for years.

            I am sorry to say, he passed away a year ago; but to be sure, he went pretty far for a po’ Arkansas boy.  To be honest, he never got the Arkansas completely out of his system.  (I even have some of it in me too, and I can’t he’p it).  I understand that when the family heard on the radio that the Martians were invading New Jersey, they did not know whether to be scared or cheer!  I think that was a bit of southern versus northern thinking, and yet I was raised in Jersey, and my dad commuted everyday on the Erie Lackawanna and PATH to New York City.  (No wonder I so often feel conflicted).

            For my Dad, those small town Arkansas roots were an advantage in his work.  He could speak to railroad workers and later to bankers all across the country in a language they could understand as opposed to the language of a brash, elitist New Yorker who wouldn’t know how to call a hog on a bet. 

            At his funeral, I thought briefly of his mother, my Gram.  I remembered when I was young, how she insisted that I put on my shoes to walk the two blocks to town because she was not going to have her neighbors think that she could not afford to buy shoes for her grandchild.  And a picture flashed briefly through my mind of:

            A young boy, barefoot under the hot Arkansas sun, climbing a tree to pick peaches at so many pennies per box, eating a few along the way before bringing his box in for his reward – a coke into which one of those pennies went to see if it would really dissolve.  He watched the shoes at the rail yard while he sat in the cool shade of the station house.  That was what they were to him.  The people attached were of no consequence.  They were shoes that shuffled along between the tracks and loaded the boxes of peaches for transport all over the nation.  They were shoes, immune to briars and prickles and hot pavement alike.  And after a while, he would go home, with his coke and half-eaten penny, and all of the other pennies he had carefully saved.  Gram and Grandad would need them.  The depression, you know.  It was hard on everyone back then, and I know the certainty of that because by the time I was born, my Dad could not have cared less if he never saw another peach in his life.

Writing Tip 5:

You have heard it said, write what you know.  I would rather say, write what you reflect.  I was convinced for years that my upbringing in a typical New York suburb was of no account and boring, like a million, billion other kids in my generation.  It was only when I got older and began to reflect on the people around me and the particular experiences I have had in my life that I began to discover gold.

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 12 M/F Story

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Back in the gym, the couch and the dolls tried to tune out their tormentor and focus on the dancing crowd.  A bride was dancing with a caveman.  Raggedy Ann overheard the caveman’s “Duh,” of delight and she also heard the Roman Senator’s response; that it was the most intelligent word Bart had ever spoken.  She noticed the Senator’s dance partner was her fellow seventh grader, Gerry, dressed as a flapper from the roaring twenties.

            “I suppose she is a real flapper now instead of her usual wall flower.”  Raggedy Ann mumbled through her sewn mouth.  “Probably loves to dance.”

            “They all look like they are having fun.”  Barbie said.  Barbie was an eighth grader and she did not know these particular kids, now grown-ups, but she was fascinated with the racecar driver circling the ballerina.  “I think they are all dancers.”  Barbie said.  She was getting good at interpreting Raggedy Ann’s mumbles.

            The couch potato had his eyes on Dorothy from Kansas dancing with a robot.  He was pretty sure Dorothy was his fellow seventh grader Rita, and he was wondering what it would take to short-circuit the robot.  Rita, that is, Dorothy looked like she was having way too much fun and not in any hurry to get back to Kansas.

                                                            ———-

            Two Truscan soldiers started down the hall beside the auditorium, headed for the gym.  “The Queen wants the door to the party room watched to be sure the children stay in and the Princess does not slip passed the others.”  One guard was explaining to his fellow as they walked the hall.  The other was just nodding as they came around the corner.

            “Halt.”  The voice was a deep, reverberating bass, which got the guard’s attention and caused them to stop.  “You are not permitted in this hall.  You and your other soldiers will be dealt with soon enough.”

            “What the?”  The soldiers gasped.  They had to look up to take in this man who was strangely armored in Roman style chain mail and a space helmet.  One soldier was ready to turn around, not at all liking what he saw – the man was big – but the other drew his sword, so the first man drew his sword as well.  They were both pointing their swords up at a ready angle.

            “There is only one.”  The first soldier assured his comrade.  “He looks unarmed.  We should be able to take him easily enough.”   The other nodded, again.

            The Space Gladiator said nothing.  He pulled his laser knife and it glowed red and gave off the slight, characteristic whistle associated with the weapon.  It was the Gladiator who took two steps forward while the Truscan soldiers stared and gaped.  One sweep of the laser knife, which started in slow motion before going faster than the eye could follow, and both Truscan swords were sliced off near the hilt.  The metal clanged loudly on the hallway floor before resting at the soldier’s feet.  The soldiers ran, and the Gladiator put his laser knife away and dutifully returned to his post.

            “Hit ‘em again.  Hit ‘em again.  Harder!  Harder!  Yeaaaa, Space Gladiator!”  Cheerleader Tasha leapt and shook her pom-poms with true conviction.

                                                            ————

            “Who is the fat Viking lady?”  The Barbie asked.  The woman was hanging around the refreshments table.

            Raggedy Ann shrugged, she could do that, but then she had to grab on to her seat to keep from falling over on to her side.

            “Olga Svenson.”  The couch potato said.  “She’s new.  I have her in math and science classes.”

            “Well, tell her to sing.  I want this nightmare to be over.”  Barbie quipped and Raggedy Ann and the couch laughed, though neither one was an opera fan, so they did not really understand what they were laughing about.  Then Barbie groaned and the others joined her.  Supermodel Kylie was finished walking her run out to the basketball foul line, modeling her clothes like a true runway model, and she was returning and explaining things all over again, starting with the burgundy shoes.  She picked up the dolls and plopped back down on the couch.  The couch responded.

            “Oof!”

                                                            ————

            There was a definite squeak-squeak of rusty chains as the swings out beyond the west door were getting a workout.  Miraz briefly wondered if he could get high enough to go all of the way around.

                                                            ————

“Colonel Nate.  Yoo-who!”   The southern belle was calling.

            “Karen, my dear.”  The Colonel with the long gray beard responded as he shuffled over.  “You are looking mighty lovely this evening.”

            “Kind of you to say.”  Karen looked down, shyly and curtsied ever so slightly, her hoop skirts touching the ground with a subtle grace while the Colonel tipped his hat.

            “And I declare there cannot be a lovelier dress in all of Georgia this evening.”  The Colonel was not finished with the compliments.

            “Why, this old thing?  Karen said in perfect seriousness.  “Fiddle-dee-dee.”

            “Now, mam.”  The Colonel got a sharp look in his eyes.  “I hardly qualify for Rhett Butler.”  He stroked his gray beard before pulling out his flask.

            Karen opened her fan and hid her face for a moment to hide her rosy cheeks.  She was hot and having a terrible time trying to breathe.  She might have sat down, but she knew the hoops in her skirts would not let her. 

            “Care for a sip.”  The Colonel held out his flask.  “December and the frost of winter is just a short month away, y’all understand.”

            “Why, Sirrah.  I would be most pleased, but I beg you to think no less of me as a lady if I do.”

            “I could never think so.”

            The southern belle took a sip.  “You are so kind.”  She spoke with a harsh voice like one finding it hard to swallow.  “Smoothe.”  She added.

            “To your health.”  The Colonel said, taking a long swig.  It was real Kentucky Bourbon, and despite their being all grown up, neither had tasted the like before.  The Colonel managed to screw the lid back on before breaking out in a hacking cough.  Karen patted him once or twice on the back.  Then the Colonel pulled out a cigar, but immediately, a firefighter, a woman hefting a rather large axe, came trotting up.

            “Don’t you dare light that.”  She threatened.

            The Colonel stuck the cigar unlit in his jaw while he gave the firefighter a dirty look.  He held out his hands for his partner.  “Would my Georgia Peach care to dance.”

            “Truly, sirrah, I have kept my dance card empty awaiting your pleasure.”

            They could not start dancing right away, though, because Babette, the French maid chose that moment to run by on those terrible spike high heels, screaming and waving her feather duster high in the air, making her super-mini skirt almost non-existent.

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 11 M/F Story

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            “Now, if youse will all be good, Rapper Bob will make with the music.”  Owen the gangster spoke into the microphone while half the party left for the cafeteria.   “And I don’t want any trouble out of any of youse guys.  Got it?  So maybe Celeste will sing something later.”  The listening crowd cheered at the idea of having a real rock star sing at their party.

            “Oh Owen, you’re so commanding.”  Terry of the long nails and too short skirt and dumb blond attitude spoke as the music started, and she sat in Owen’s lap as he sat and nodded his head like she was speaking his tune.

            “You’re a good moll.”  He said.  “Every gangster needs a moll.”

            “And you’re my pumpkin wumpkin.”  Terry said, tweaking Owen’s nose.

            “And I think I’m gonna throw up.”  Celeste said, looking at Bob, but Bob had his headphones on against the music and was not paying attention, and Kyle, dressed like a pimp, was not to be found.  Celeste wondered for a minute what that sex fiend might be up to, but she soon shrugged it off and got into the music.

                                                            ————

            Pimp Kyle slid up to his intended tricks.  Once, they had been seventh grade wannabes, Anna, Lisa and Elizabeth.  Now, they found themselves as Cleopatra, Babette, the French maid, and a pregnant nun.  “Ladies.”  That was all Kyle had to say.  The look in his eyes said the rest.  The women scattered and ran for their lives, Cleopatra trying not to trip over or fall out of her long white dress, Babette shrieking and waving her feather duster like a weapon as she struggled to run in her extra high heels, and Elizabeth praying to Mary, the Mother of God.

            “And I’m not even Catholic!”  Elizabeth confessed.

            Kyle shrugged, tilted his hat forward, spun his cane once and swaggered off in their general direction.

                                                            ————

            “Thank goodness this couch was here.”  Raggedy Ann said as she fought to pull herself up.

            “What?”  The voice came from above.

            “I said.”  Raggedy Ann started to repeat herself, but then she got a look at the speaker.  It was Barbie, small and plastic, but at least the arms and legs were bendable.  “I said you try talking with your mouth sewn shut!”

            “Me?”  Barbie responded in a very un-Barbie like fashion.  “I’m made of plastic!”

            “At least you can stand.”  Raggedy Ann said as she fell on the couch cushion face down.  It was going to take some effort to turn face up and she only hoped she did not slide down to the floor again. 

            “Not hardly.”  Barbie said.  “Look.”  Her arms and legs went up and down, but she could not bend at the elbows or knees.  Of course, Raggedy Ann could not look, being face down, and she said so.  Barbie’s response was even sharper.  It appeared to be the beginning of a good brawl, when the couch interrupted them.

            “Quiet!”  The couch commanded.  “I don’t mind you sitting on me, but I don’t need to hear about your troubles.  I was going to come as a Hell’s Angels, but no!  At the last minute I decided to be a couch potato.”

            “Oh, I see.”  The girls both spoke together as they noticed the potato with a face attached to the top of the couch.

            “Oh, no!  Please no!”  Barbie shouted suddenly.

            “What?”  The others wondered and then they saw Super Model Kylie approaching.  The woman was nearly six feet tall and could not have weighed a hundred pounds.

            “There you are.”  Kylie said, shaking out her luxurious hair as if posing for a camera.  “Do you like my shoes?  They are Armani, a rich burgundy I matched with my Aigner bag and my luscious lips.”  She posed with a kiss puckered on her lips.

            “This will go on without end.”  Barbie shuddered.

            “Please, no!”  Raggedy Ann begged as Kylie sat between the dolls and picked them up as if they were real dolls while explaining all about her outfit and the designers that made each piece.

            “Ooof!” was what the couch said, a hundred pounds or not.

                                                            ————

            Life was quiet in room 204.  Five horrors, all boys, were scribbling on the blackboards and rummaging through the teacher’s desk while the devil girl and the skeleton girl sat with the axe-headed zombie and the dead lawyer and lamented their fate.  The two ghosts had already slipped off to the closet.

            “They’ve forgotten us.”  The skeleton insisted.

            “They wouldn’t.”  The lawyer responded. 

            The devil girl sat with her elbows on the desk and her chin resting in her hands.  She glanced up.  “It’s been over an hour.  They sound like they are having fun without us.”

            There was a bang from inside the closet.  “Kate and Winslow are having fun.”  The skeleton said.

            “Winslow’s gay.”  The devil girl said grumpily.

            “Doesn’t sound gay to me.”  The lawyer responded with a grin on his face.

            “You know what I mean.”

            “Hey!”  The grim reaper interrupted.  “A deck of cards.”  Scream and the demon both looked up, and the demon smiled.

                                                            ————

            “I want you two here on the west door.”  Captain Tor scowled at his men.

            “Sir!”  Opas and Miraz responded in their best military fashion, which was not very good.  The Captain’s scowl deepened as he looked out over the playground area.

            “Not much chance of the Queen Arosa coming this way, but the Queen Regent wants all the doorways guarded just in case.  I assume you two can handle this assignment.”

            “Yes sir.”  They said.  “But sir.”  Opas interrupted.  “What if we get hungry, or maybe thirsty?”

            Captain Tor put his head in his hands.  “Just don’t leave the door unguarded.  Keep the children in and keep your eyes open for the Queen.”

            “Yes sir.”  Miraz spoke.  “But sir, how will we recognize her, Queen Arosa I mean?”

            Captain Tor shook his head.  “Tell you what, just arrest any woman trying to get in.”

            “Yes sir.”  Both men said.  “But sir.”  Opas started again, but the Captain was not listening.  He had already gone back inside.

            “So, it’s you and me again.”  Miraz said.  “Eh!  Where are you going?”

            “Come on.”  Opas encouraged his fellow.  “I’m going to sit on one of these swinging things.  We can watch the door better and be in the shadows, if you know what I mean.”

            “Ohhh.”  Understanding dawned slowly on Miraz’ face.  “Catch them by surprise-like.  Very clever.”

                                                            ————

            In the Cafeteria, newly dubbed the war room, the people came to agreement.  They had to get the hostages free before they attempted anything else.

            “My loyal subjects.”  Queen Jessica tried to push herself up to the front for the third time, supported by her ladies in waiting, Mindy, Savannah and Shakira.

            “Sit down.”  People yelled at her.

            “Sitty Downy!”  Lila yelled from her perch on her grandpa-scarecrow’s shoulder.  Several people sighed.  The fairy was becoming so cute!  Ginger, the Jaguar, decided to roar at the Queen.

            “Heads will roll!”  Queen Jessica threatened, but she sat at the roar of the cat, not wishing to upset the panther.  She looked disgusted with the whole proceeding, but she did not appear as if she would try to take over a fourth time.  Her ladies in waiting were very comforting, and the witches, Brittany, Nichole and Molly were also right there with soothing words.  Lila briefly wondered what the witches were up to, but such a thought flits across a typical fairy mind without much impact.

            “Of course, I’m not clever about such things.”  The Scarecrow said, sounding more and more like the real Scarecrow.  “But I know a way we can get to the roof of the offices without going down the halls.  If some of you made a distraction, there might be a way to get the hostages out.”

            Peter the Ninja and Jennifer the elf came in at that point.  Everyone turned to hear their report.  “The Queen and a dozen soldiers have set up on the auditorium stage.  The wizard with his funny black box is with them and the Captain, and her Count Severas guy with his goons are there as well.  There are six guards in the offices guarding the prisoners, but since scouting them out, they have also set guards on the outside doors and guards with barriers in the halls east and west of the auditorium.”  The Ninja bowed and the elf lifted his face back up, holding him by the chin.

            “I never realized your eyes slanted like that, Peter, you know, Asian looking.”  The elf said.

            “A match for your pointed ears.”  The ninja responded.  Jennifer could not tell, but she was fairly sure Peter was smiling beneath his mask.  She did feel her ears turn ever so slightly red.

            “People!”  Chris the knight, and Tyler, the NFL quarterback, restored order and silence.  The scarecrow then outlined his ideas while Lila got bored and looked around the room.  There was a Geisha setting up a tea service in one corner and a gypsy woman going into the fortune telling business in the opposite corner of the room.  The geeks had a third corner.  George was a real doctor, and Shirley was his nurse.  That could be useful if someone got hurt.  Ethan was a mad dentist.  Missing teeth was something she did not want to think about, but she supposed having him, even as a madman, was better than nothing.

            Meanwhile, Chef Brian – a rotund Chef Brian – had taken over the kitchen, and waitress Maria, who suddenly spoke perfect English, what could be discerned through the gum chewing, was taking an order from a Delta stewardess, a farm girl, and Snow White, who was identical to the Disney version except she was still black.  Lila shook her head.   She was feeling very confused, but then she was distracted by a sight near the kitchen door.  Nelson-Max Man and his no longer stuffed dog Maxamillian were sneaking off toward the kitchen and the food.  She zoomed over to cut them off, leaving a trail of golden fairy dust in her wake.

            “Max and Max!  You have to stay and help.”  Lila put one fist on her hip and wagged a finger at the two while she hovered in mid-air.

            “Uh-oh.  Snagged by Tinker Bell.”  Max Man said.

            “Indeed.  Max Man trapped by the glittering damsel.”

            “I am not Tinker Bell!”  Lila said, not quite sure what a glittering damsel was.  She put both of her fists on her hips and stomped her foot in mid air.  It actually made a snap!  “Would you stay and help for a cheeseburger?”  She had an idea.

            Max Man and Maxamillian looked at each other, but did not answer.  “OK.”  Lila said.  “How about two cheeseburgers?”

            “Two each?”  Max Man was bargaining.

            “Indeed.  Double enticements?”

            “Deal.”  Lila said, and before thinking too hard about what she was doing, she pulled out her wand and touched the air in front of Maxamillian and the air in front of Max Man.  The Cheeseburgers magically appeared.

            “Marvelous prestidigitation!”  Maxamillian shouted as the two scarfed down the treats.  Lila was in too much shock over what she had just done to notice.

            “Magic!”  Lila shouted.  “I just did magic!  Really for real!”  She shot around the room, shouting at everyone about her great accomplishment.  When she finally settled back on the Scarecrow’s shoulder, remembering that she was supposed to be listening to the plan, she had to catch her breath.

            “I heard.”  Grandpa said before she could shout in his straw ear.  “But now, Lila, you have to settle down.  You have to help me lead the group through the rafters.”

One Writer’s mid-week Writing Secrets 4: Read

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

             OK.  So I am off Twain for a while and I have moved on to Dickens with some great heaping teaspoons of Madeleine L’Engle.  At the beginning of the summer I was determined that this summer I was going to do reading-lite (great taste, less filling), and so it was all Eric Flint (& co.) and Harry Turtledove. 

            Then I promptly devoured Susan Wise Bauer’s The History of the Ancient World – a text with which my naturally argumentative mind could find very little fault.  (So much for reading-lite). 

            Then before Twain, I began to peruse C. S. Lewis, wondering when Dawntreader, the third movie might come out, and I hit on rereading some Charles Williams.  Williams (if you don’t know) was the one that Lewis and Tolkien and Sayers and the other inklings (generally) believed was the best writer among them… and good luck finding his works!

            So, what are you reading???

 

Writing Tip 4:

If you want to write, and especially if you want to write well, read.  Some have said that this is the single most important thing a writer can do.  I would not go that far, but near enough, and I would add that the library is fine but it is better if you buy the books the same way you hope people will buy yours!  (For God’s sake, don’t steal them off the internet).  So, read, and read the stuff that you know darn well is the good stuff too if you want to write good stuff.  We are what we eat after all.

Series: Tales of the Other Earth Tale: Halloween Story part 10 M/F Story

M G Kizzia 2 Comments

            The Queen sent a few soldiers down the east hall alongside the auditorium while she and her troops and prisoners walked down the west hall, toward the front door.  She paused when they came to the back-stage entrance, which was open.  She started out on to the stage to look, but the lights were off.

            “And how does one bring light into this place?”  She asked.

            Tom Deal frowned, but stepped over to the backstage bank of switches.  He lit up the stage, but kept the auditorium lights dimmed low.

            “Excellent.”  The Queen clapped her hands.  “By the door and with just the right atmosphere.”  The stage was set for a Middle School production of Romeo and Juliet.  The scenery had a medieval flavor to it all. 

            “But not suitable for prisoners.”  Captain Tor pointed out.

            “To be sure.”  The Queen nodded and they went back toward the front door where there were lights on in a different room.  It was the front office.  Someone, possibly Mary the secretary, alias the Wicked Witch, had been in and out the office earlier.  They unlocked the door, and Captain Tor took the key.  “Will this do?”  The Queen asked.

            The Captain looked around and nodded as he assigned six soldiers to the room; two by the door to the hall, two by the door to the outside, and two, one being a sergeant, to simply watch the adults and make sure they made no trouble.

            “I believe Barten-Cur may be persuaded to tell us what we wish to know, or if not, one of the others.”  Count Severas made the suggestion without exactly spelling out what he had in mind.

            “If it comes to that.”  The Queen did not dismiss the idea.  “Bring the servant and this one.”  She pointed to Gloria Finster.  “The woman appears to be a reasonable sort.”  She trooped out with the Wizard and Count Severas, the Count’s men escorting the prisoners, while Captain Tor began to assign men to guard the outside of the building against any attempted escapes.

            As they walked back to the stage, Barten-Cur looked around carefully, dragging his feet a little to get to the back of the line.  When they reached the stage door, he decided to take his chances.  He let the last bit of magic float off down the hall.  It was a light violet bubble, which soon picked up speed and burst into a hundred little bubbles.  These shot off in every direction as the Wizard came running back from the stage, still holding his box with the crystal.

            “What was that?”  He asked, as the last few mini-bubbles zoomed by above his head.

            “The on button.”   Barten-Cur said, and he hoped he was doing the right thing.

                                                            ————

            Lila dropped the microphone and it clattered loudly against the gym floor.  She couldn’t help it.  She was suddenly nine inches tall and hovering, thanks to her fairy wings, four feet above the ground.  It happened to her all at once, perhaps because she had the magic in her to resonate with the spell; but for everyone else, the change came more gradually.  Almost without thinking, Lila flew up to a height where she could see what was going on.  She saw the tiny purple bubbles of magic slow down and float around the room as if looking for someone to touch.  As they touched, she saw what happened.

            Jennifer actually got a few inches shorter, but her ears became real, and her face aged to a more grow-up look, and changed a bit to give real credence to her status as an elf and woman warrior.  Ginger fell to her hands, and her arms lengthened, or her legs shortened as her nose began to extend and her whiskers moved to her puffy upper lip.  It looked like a difficult transformation, and Ginger opened her mouth to try and say something, but her voice choked on the words and they turned into something of a roar.  That gave Lila a good look at Ginger’s teeth, and that made her look away, except that as she did, she saw Ginger’s danskin fall away, and a great, black tail push it’s way out from behind.  The tail immediately began to twitch to indicate that the newly formed panther was agitated, but Ginger lay down on the floor and licked a paw as if she was seeking to calm herself.

            Chris grew up into a handsome, blond knight.  Peter, the Ninja, hardly changed a bit, except his eyes took on an Asian shape and his movements no longer contained any eighth grade awkwardness.  Mary and Eddie became Red Rayder and Princess Ashanti, and luckily, they changed to real persons and not flat cartoons from a video screen.  Then Lila saw a very grown-up pirate Jordan with a real eye-patch staring at a grown-up pirate Morgan with a real scar on her cheek.  She watched Jordan catch Morgan up in an embrace and plant his lips against hers in a real grown-up kiss, which Morgan willingly returned.

            “Ew!”  Lila said in her new fairy voice.  “No need to get all kissy-face.”  Then she wondered why she said that.

            “Listen up.”  The Scarecrow had picked up the microphone.  “Pay attention.” 

            Lila fluttered down to Ginger and looked the cat in the eye.  The cat had the most perfect cat-like expression about her face, so Lila was not sure.  “Are you still Ginger in there?”  Lila asked.  The cat said nothing.  “I would be very sorry if you weren’t Ginger anymore.  Please nod your head if you are still Ginger.”  The cat nodded slightly, and then licked her forearm.  “Oh, I’m glad.  I’m going to believe in you now.”  Lila said, and she came forward to hug the cat, but the cat was too big.  Then Lila had a thought.  “Can I ride on your back?”  The cat shook her head.  That was a definite no.

            “I am going to believe what has happened to us has been for us to do something about this predicament.  We cannot leave the others in the hands of enemy soldiers, and we have to get free from this place, if we can.”  The Scarecrow had readily grasped what had happened to them all, and he knew that it was especially important to contain this invasion to the school.  The worst thing would be letting these soldiers loose on an unsuspecting community.  “Now, I am going to let the music start again so they think we have gone back to the party.  Some of you will be no help to us, but some will.  First, however, I think we need to guard the door.  You there!  Space Gladiator!”

            “Adam, I think.”  Jennifer said.  She was squinting with her elf eyes as if seeing something no human eyes could perceive.  It was the young man the Coach wanted on the football team, and he would want him even more now if he saw the size of the man with his head sticking up above all the others. 

            “Yes, Spaceman.”  The Scarecrow got his attention, and with that, several people backed away to give the Space Gladiator plenty of room.  “Watch the door and keep the Truscans out of here until we get straight what we are doing.”

            “Do you speak for the Emperor of the known worlds?”  The Gladiator asked.  “I take orders from no man, least of all a man of straw.”

            Lila was back by then, and she knew that the Space Gladiator was disparaging her Grandfather.  As a fairy, she no longer had the presence of mind to wonder how a scarecrow could be her Grandfather, but he was, and the Gladiator was not helping, even if he was the hero of the movie.  She zoomed up to the man’s face with a determined look scrunched up on her own face and her little fists planted firmly on her hips.  “Want to argue about it?”  She shouted.

            The Gladiator paused.  He seemed mesmerized for a minute.  His hand came up, but he did not touch.  It was more like a frozen man warming himself for a moment by a roaring flame.  He bowed his head.  “For the embodiment of life, I will do as requested.”  He turned with a flare of his cape and marched to the door, followed by Tasha, his own, personal cheerleader.

            “We’ll keep the music going.”  Owen, the gangster came up, his moll, Terry, clinging to his arm and chewing her gum to death.  Rapper Bob was with him, and Celeste, who most recognized as a great Rock Star.  Indeed, Celeste had to push behind the equipment table and seek the protection of the gangster and the big rapper to keep from being mobbed by the crowd.

            At that point, Queen Jessica came up and wanted the microphone.  “My subjects.”  She tried to speak, but Sir Chris and the two pirates held her back for the moment.

            “But these are my subjects.”  Jessica insisted, sincerely believing this to be the truth.  “They should be doing what I say, not what this straw man says.”

            “Aye, your majesty.”  Jordan said with a bow.  “But there are events this evening which may upset your delicate sensibilities.  By your grace, let us deal with these unpleasant necessities.”

            “Back off.”  Morgan said with a snicker, and Jessica backed into the protective circle of her ladies in waiting.

            “Pirates.”  She almost spat.  “Are all of my subjects in rebellion?”

            Before Jessica got any further, the scarecrow quickly turned back to the assembly.  “I want the color guard, you football players and any superheroes that might be about, oh, and the medical people in the back, there.  You better come along as well, though I hope you will not be needed.  Lila, bring your friends; but I want the rest of you to have fun, for now.  Make them think there is a real party going on in here.  To the cafeteria.”  He barely got that last word out before Rapper Bob took over.

            “Oh, there is a real party going on.”  The Rapper said, and he turned up the volume, loud.

            “But they should be listening to me!  The people should be doing what I say!”  Queen Jessica was miffed.  The witches, Brittany, Nichole and Molly, all hag ugly, came up making the most sympathetic noises.

            “Majesty, not all are in rebellion.”  Brittany said while all three witches bowed regally.  “But your nerves must be shot by the turn of events.  Do let us serve you as you ought to be served, my Queen.  Allow us this small thing, to make a tonic for you that it may fortify you and calm your stresses, so you may take up the responsibility of ruling this great kingdom with renewed strength.”

            “Yes.”  Queen Jessica responded slowly.  “I could use a tonic at this time.  I thank you for your devotion to my person.  You may do this thing.”  Brittany bowed again, turned, and smiled to her sister witches in a way which was not at all nice, and they led the Queen and her ladies toward the cafeteria where they could find what they needed to work on the tonic.