tag:spearpointpub.com,2005:/blogs/a-boat-on-the-edge-730017a6-9da8-4309-8bd1-735fdca7d48d?p=1A Boat on the Edge2024-03-08T19:37:57-07:00spearpointpub.comfalsetag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/73642082024-03-08T19:37:57-07:002024-03-08T19:37:57-07:00Klaxenglot - By Rosy<p><span> She sat looking north from her tower. Her husband had created a small forest on her building's top, where her tower sits, so she couldn't be sure if he was down there. He's very good at mimicking humans, styling his beard and combing his hair like he does, so he could be out gadding about. Liking the rhyme she began to hum, 'he's gone out, gadding about,' and returned to her word machine.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> She'd been thinking about the Dinosaur Planet and about how it really doesn't have a name, just a description. Like earth would be Elf Planet by that method. Pretty sure. Anyway the dinosaur planet required a proper name. It was such a beautiful place, after all, and Tonker loved the view from his perch in the early mornings.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> He saw the river through the morning mist, magical and haunting in its forest meander. Some fish for breakfast would be nice, he thought as he stretched lazily in his nest. Tendril, his wife, was still asleep as was little Ergrot, his young son, as Father Sun has just now shown his face. They will be up soon, though, and he stretched again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> There was a fluttering and his neighbor Philban landed nearby.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Morning, Tonker," he said joyfully. "Lovely day, eh?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes, lovely Philban, but the missus and kid are still asleep."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Philban lowered his voice. "Sorry. So, uh you going to the big kerfuffle down in lower meadow?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Dunno, what's cookin'?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Our name, Tonker, our name, that's what's cooking."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Honey, who you talking to?" Tendril asked from inside the nest. He could hear Ergrot's voice but not what he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's Philban. He's wondering if we're going to the naming thing today."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Oh. I dunno, you decide." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's a pretty big deal, naming the planet," Philban put in.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, I heard the Sasquatch's got it all sewed up," Tonker replied.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "You heard wrong," Philban told him. "In fact they's gonna try and get a name candidate from every species that wants to put one up."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Tonker looked dreamy-eyed. "What would you call our planet, Philban?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Why, I'd call it Pteranodonia!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Tonker smiled warmly at his friend. "Yes, I suppose you would. But what of the Sasquatches? This is their planet as well."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hmm, well you know they have all those portals to the human world, right? Why don't they, I mean they could, with the portals and all, well, why don't they all just go there?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "And leave Pteranodonia?" Tonker smiled at his friend's confusion. "This is their home. No, Philban, we need a name to suit everyone. There's also the T-Rexes, the fishes and those curious apes, the Magnons. The name needs to include all of these and everything else that is our planet." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Wow," Philban muttered. "What name could hold all that?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's the name we need."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Meanwhile, Tyle, the head Sasquatch, was calling his naming contingent together. Curiously Tyle is also her husband's name, but that, of course, is in another world. So far Tyle had Jobob, the hillbilly Sasquatch, Fleetfoot, the mountain man Sasquatch, Melvin, the Mothman Sasquatch and Figgura Ta, the delusional Sasquatch since he was actually a faerie. Now there's a story, but maybe for later. Used to be a lawyer, you know. Worked for the notorious Mad Doctor Snarkey, in fact, along with Sassy Fat before she became the Queen of Police over in Elvenstead. Anyway Figgura Ta, was the fourth Sasquatch that Tyle had called upon to provide the name they'd submit at the today's naming convention.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Okay, guys," Tyle started, "today's the day. Today's the day we submit the name that most perfectly represents our planet, heretofore known as the Dinosaur Planet."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Figgura Ta started clapping and the others uncertainly joined in. Tyle raised is hand to stop them. "So, good then, you're rarin' to go! What name we given 'em?" <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Figgura Ta stepped back and Jobob was left in front. "Oh! Well, uh, I was thinkin' that perhaps we could just call it Sasquatch!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Take a flight to Sasquatch!" Figgura Ta yelped with a laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "And what would you call it, Figgura Ta?" Tyle asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Me?" He looked around to be sure, then looked back at Tyle. "Well, I suppose I'd probably call it Haven. You know, close to heaven as well as being a swell place to hide out." His eyes went round. "Not that I have anything to hide from, I mean we don't, we all of us don't have to hide at all, but it just sort seems cozy and nice, you know, being out of sight." He looked blank, his lawyer mind at work. Tyle often wondered why Figgura Ta was here in Sasquatch country but quit questioning when Figgura Ta became a respected member of the community. Not for me to know, I guess, he thought with a shrug. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Okay, Haven. Sounds good Figgura Ta, thanks! Anyone else? Melvin?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yessir," Melvin stood. In some sort of way he did resemble a moth but if he shifted, he'd be something else, something . . . ? He cleared his throat. "Well, I was thinkin' of Squatchy. Think of it! This entire place is perfect for Sasquatches, except maybe over around the T-Rex country, but who cares what they think, right?" There were grunts and oomphs but no actual agreement.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Okay, so now we have Haven and Squatchy. Any others?" Tyle asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Jobob stood. "I got a name, Tyle," he said quietly. The room seemed to hush in order to hear him better. "How about Holler?" he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "You want to call the planet, our planet, Holler?" Tyle asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yessir. That there's where the best stuff happens, up in them hollers. Lotta Squatches vacation there. Why I go ever' year."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes, I've heard of your hollers," Tyle replied. "Lovely places indeed. So, now we have Holler, Squatchy and Haven. Whatya say guys? One a these sound good?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> After arguments and some raised voices they finally chose Holler. There were certainly a lot of diverse creatures in a holler so everyone was represented. What finally clinched it was when Figgura Ta pointed out that Holler might have unpleasant connotations to some, which is perfect, a subtle deterrent to would be homesteaders. He seemed to regard newcomers as dangerous, and when Tyle asked, he smiled and told us, "Not at all. It’s the ones we connect with that make the best neighbors, and they'll be the ones who get Holler." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> It gave us a warm fuzzy feeling and we lolled in the sound and sway of Holler.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Meanwhile the T-Rexes were having their own conference. No one was in charge and the self-appointed delegates all eagerly joined in the fracas. At the end of their discussion it was the one left standing, Grak'm, who gave them Niceplace, as their choice, hoping to attract more game, er, workers, or, well it was difficult to determine what exactly Grak'm hoped to attract, but it was clear he wanted something. The T-Rexes seem a lean and hungry lot.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Back with the pteranodons the debate was down to Wing, but it was not yet the final choice for their submission. Philban's choice of Pteranodonia, while appreciated, was quickly voted down. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Wing? But what about the fishes and Sasquatches?" Tonker asked. "None of them fly so I don't think this name includes them." He paused and looking at the lush horizon and hearing the far distant roars of the fighting T-Rexes, he continued, "Maybe Paradise, or better perhaps, Jungle."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "What about the ocean people?" Hyflier, a prominent pteranodon, asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Tonker stopped and looked blank for a moment. "Well, then how about Greenwater? Jungle and ocean together." That ended being their choice.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> That afternoon, after much debating, fencing and squirreling about, the big 'Name the Planet Conference' had it down to Holler, Niceplace and Greenwater. When the voting began the choices were clear. When the voting ended nothing was clear except that somehow, without even being on the ballot, Klaxenglot won as the most popular name. In some ineffable way everyone, ninety percent at least, voted for Klaxenglot.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "What's that even mean?" Tonker asked afterward. He too had voted for it and was now wondering why.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's a really loud horn. Klaxon that is, Glot could mean anything," Philban told him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Why did we vote for that?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Dunno. It's like we all were hypnotized."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes, it was just like that." Tonker knew something was amiss.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Everyone was dazed and confused so it was easy for Tonker and Philban to halt the election results from being finalized. Most of the people, confused about what they had done, agreed. There will be a new vote next week. Now Tonker and Philban had to find out what the heck was going on.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> They wondered who on the Dinosaur Planet had the power to mesmerize everyone to vote for a name that no one had even heard of before? They hadn't developed a strong tourist trade on the planet and likely never would. The T-Rexes were the problem and everybody knew it. Everyone also knew that the T-Rexes couldn't have done this mesmerizing. Thankfully there are no wizard T-Rexes. In fact they aren't known for any subtleties at all, just brute force. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Tonker wondered about the mysterious ape-like beings called the Magnons. They hadn't submitted a name, at least not openly. They lived a long ways from Pteran, the pteranodon lands, at least a couple days flight.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Philban, what do you know about the magnons?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I've never actually seen one, but what I heard at a lecture once was that they are very primitive with limited language skills."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, I've heard that too. I also heard that in a few thousand years they might evolve into human beings."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Whoa, that's amazing. Do you think they could do it? The mesmerizing, I mean."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I dunno," Tonker said with a worried look. "I heard they have shamans and priests of some sort or the other. I think we need to make a trip to the magnon country."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> It was mid-afternoon when they began the trip. Tonker, Philban and Ace Da'ca, from the Pteran Constabulary. They flew through the night, taking brief breaks and rested for several hours at sunrise. They continued and arrived at the magnon lands, or at least what they believed were the magnon lands, by mid-day. They stopped to reconnoiter and determine their next move. As they moved about they came upon a couple magnons who were beating the ground with large sticks that were recently cut and still had leaves. They were raising dust and tiny debris, creating a cloud around them. They stopped, first one then the other when they became aware of the three Pterans watching them. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The one that was nearest to Tonker and Philban asked, "What?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I'm sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt, "Tonker said. "We're new here, looking for the leader or something like that, when we spotted you two smacking the ground with branches, so we stopped."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's a curious thing, hitting the ground like that," Philban added. A moment of silence. "At least where we're from it's curious," he amended.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We beatin' in some good sense," the first one answered.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Good common sense," the second one added.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Good common sense?" Tonker asked. "Beatin' into what?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Why Klaxenglot that's what," the first one replied.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Klaxenglot!" Tonker, Philban and Da'ca all exclaimed at the same time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "What is Klaxenglot?" Tonker asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Huh?" the first one said with a perplexed look. "Klaxenglot. You know. It's like everything, the ground, the trees, the waters and just everything, it's all Klaxenglot."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "You mean the planet?" Tonker asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah sure, plus the air and the clouds, even the stars, all Klaxenglot."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Wow," Tonker said, impressed with the concept. "So why does Klaxenglot need to have common sense beat into it?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> They looked at each other with a confused look. "So everything can go okay, of course," said the first one.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We don't want no stupid things, like storms or quakes or floods or, well there's just a whole lotta stupid that Klaxenglot can do," said the second.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's what the Big-Feathered Wumper sang for us that day, when common sense failed," added the first.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "No common sense in a big quake and flooding rains. Nossir, none at all," said the second. "It's clearly bad sense to hurt things. So ya gotta smack it in, like the BF Wumper does. Smack! Smack! Smack!" They resumed their thumping.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's called Wumping," the first informed us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> As we continued our meandering walk, we saw more Wumpers, usually two or three with one large group of a dozen or so, all Wumping away, giving Klaxenglot some good common sense. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "So how did Klaxenglot end up winning the name vote?" Tonker asked as they walked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "That's the question, isn't it?" Philban replied. "I mean, these magnons don't seem very sophisticated, at least not enough to manage a giant spell like mesmerizing a planet's inhabitants."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I agree, I . . ." Tonker stopped. They had just crested a small hillock and there, spread out before them were thousands of magnons, all Wumping sense into Klaxenglot. They stared in shocked disbelief. There was a stand nearby offering fresh sticks to the worshipers so they walked over to that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Needa stick?" the young magnon inside asked as they approached.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "No thanks," Tonker said with a smile. "We're looking for someone in charge." The magnon looked blank. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We want to find out about you all," Philban added.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "And about Klaxenglot. We've never heard of it in our country," Tonker explained.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Dang, ain't that something?" the magnon replied. "Here, take a stick and do some Wumping. You'll feel better." They each took a stick but just stood there, uncertain what to do. "You are ferriners, no doubt," the magnon snorted. "Here, go over there, to that clear spot." He pointed to a place where no one was currently Wumping and they walked over to it. "Now Wump!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> They began a rather desultory Wumping but as soon as they started, they began to feel a curious energy and were soon Wumping as enthusiastically as any magnon. It was exhilarating!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Later things began to slow down and they followed some magnons to a food cart where they ate, then they settled around the communal fire and sang strange, to Tonker, Philban and Da'ca, songs. Despite not knowing the songs they were able to hum along.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Then a speaker stood and told the assemblage, "Here is some stuff to know. At the bottom of it all, or perhaps the top, is Hexlexl the zombie god. This god is not actually a zombie, he was just sort of dead once so it seemed appropriate. Anyway, Hexlexl did his astonishing magic by Wumping, teaching the Big-Feathered Wumper who just naturally began Wumping, together they taught it to all of Hexlexl's people, the magnons. Most magnons, like Hexlexl, are not actually zombies. This ends tonight's good stuff to know." The speaker sat. Soon everyone went somewhere to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> When Tonker, Phil and Da'ca had found a good spot to rest Tonker said, "It looks like this Hexlexl fellow is where we need to go to find answers." The other two agreed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The next morning as the Wumpers were getting started they left, Da'ca returning to Pteran to share what they had learned, while Tonker and Philban began the Hexlexl Quest.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p> </p><p><span>Next: The Hexlexl Quest</span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/73418012024-01-28T10:22:48-07:002024-01-28T10:22:48-07:00Robots - By Rosy<p><span> Ellim, our 11:11BS service bot finally brought me my morning coffee. We are a people of tea drinkers but I remain a morning coffee person. And despite popular belief I am not cranky if it's late or not there at all. I'm just not, and irrespective of Rover's belief that I do, in fact, get cranky when I'm coffee deprived, I am not cranky now, having waited half an hour past my coffee time, an unusual thing for Ellim. I knew he was reading me so I remained noncommittal, having pleasant thoughts. The coffee was damn good and that helped.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The 11:11 series of service bots have various designations appended to their series number to identify their dominant function. Ellim's BS signifies Ballistic Sensory, meaning he has enhanced ESP abilities. He can read minds, which may seem disconcerting until you realize that the entire crew, except me and perhaps Steddy, can read minds. The idea in the service bots was to create machines that knew your every need before you knew them. They have other useful mind things too. I'll have to inquire as to Steddy's abilities.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Just then Steddy passed by and spoke without stopping, "I don't think I have that ESP thing Captain."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Steddy is our other robot. From the 11:11007 Adventure/Detective series, pronounced eleven eleven aught aught seven, or when he's being suave, eleven eleven double aught seven. Steddy is also a Herobot, who, since he's brand new, studies the Hero business under Brak and Jant, two professional heroes on our crew.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover comes in and sits at the Navigator's station. "Morning Captain," he calls over to me. Being the Navigator, he keeps quite a lot of maps and scrolls at his station, piled up so he can't really see where we're going. Difficult to even see him sometimes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hey Rover," I answered, frowning to see Ellim handing him a steaming hot cuppa tea. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Where are we going today?" we both asked simultaneously.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Really Captain," Rover continued, "you need to tell me. You're the Captain, right?" I nodded. I am the Captain. "So where are we going?" he repeated.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I felt inadequate, like I hadn't studied or something.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "How about them Corkers?" Steddy suggested behind me. I squinted at Rover.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, how about them Corkers?" I demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover's eyes went round. "Didn't expect that," he murmured. Then he turned to Brak. "Brak, find someway to get to the Corkers."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Sure Rover. Maybe I'll just . . ."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hold on," Rover interrupted. He checked a couple maps, unrolled a scroll and measured with calipers. Finally he announced, "Here's the coordinates Brak."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hey thanks," Brak chirped. "This'll probably work better than what I was gonna do."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I know," Rover growled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The Corkers refer to a group of exotic islands in the wide and balmy circumnavigation of the Great Yudonke River at the Equator. Their full name is the Little Lost Corkers and they contain the finest ocean-like resorts on Yudonke and maybe the universe. After a short while we came to a landing. I'm always the most worried at these times when we arrive somewhere because despite having a stated goal, we rarely get there, more usually arriving at some unknown destination. I never really imagined actually going to the Corkers, although I wouldn't have minded, rather I expected the extreme opposite.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Much to my surprise we landed safely in the Little Lost Corkers and had a wonderful time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/73418002024-01-28T10:22:14-07:002024-01-28T10:22:15-07:00An Octopus Named Kraken - By Rosy<p><span> She gazed out from atop her tower, her nesting spot that allows a complete three hundred and sixty degree view, if you walked around her spacious room, opening drapes and peering out windows all they way around. She watches and has set comfortable chairs at each of the four directions to help enable her watching although it should be said, watching is not her main work. Not even close. What she does is write. She creates images and episodes that are visible through words. Word art, you could say.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Through her windows, when ideas may linger, she watches the world, its changes, its seasons and its people, who, although somewhat distant, her abode being atop a three-story building which she owns and rents through an agent, are still fairly clear to see and curious to watch. She recognizes some as her tenants although they wouldn't know her, just her agent. Still, she recognizes them by their coming and going. She has a private elevator that they're probably unaware of, so they wouldn't place her as a neighbor. She likes this anonymity.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Besides writing and watching, her passion is to cook. Her weight problem began perhaps as a function of loneliness, a coping tool for imagining that her life would end alone. Now she's sensible about food and exercise and is slowly returning to her ideal weight, because she's not alone. The love of her life appeared a few years back and now he lives on the top floor, just below her nest.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> He's actually a sasquatch and was glad to find not only a comfortable burrow that's well out of sight but a wife to be by his side as he gets older. He spends a lot of time on the lawn-covered deck around her tower that's only visible to someone flying overhead. He lies in the sun without fear of being seen, something he's curiously concerned about.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> She has also hosted a pteranodon with the help of her husband. Curious times in a curious world indeed. She remembers Tonker the pteranodon with affection and their amazing adventures on the Great Yudonke River. Captain Rosy Rivitir commanding the magical All-Vehicle Rivitir.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Brak Hero, the pilot, brings the Rivitir in for a smooth landing, as always. Jant Hero, Brak's sister, is watching the radar.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Something big up ahead," Jant cautioned.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hmm, I don't see anything," Brak replied, peering intently ahead. Then suddenly a big kraken like creature rose up out of the water and blocked their way. "Okay, I see it now," Brak reported. "Uh, Captain?" <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I'll see if I can wake her," Steddy said as he walked over to my door.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Steddy is one of two robots on the crew, the first being our 11:11BS service bot who we call Ellim. The BS is Ballistic Sensory meaning Ellim can read minds. The other is Steddy, or Stedfast Troo, an 11:11007 (pronounced eleven eleven double aught seven) detective robot with a programmable hero function.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I'm awake, of course. Any disturbance with the Rivitir I'm instantly aware. I opened the door just as Steddy was preparing to knock.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Looks like a kraken," I stated, taking in the situation at a glance. "Good work stopping the Rivitir Brak."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Uh, yes, ma'am," he replied, staring ahead at the kraken.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Why don't you pull us over to shore and we'll camp here," I told him. "Looks like a nice enough spot and I'm not in any mood to mess around with a kraken."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes, ma'am," he repeated, clearly relieved.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> It was a good spot and we set up a nice camp. I hoped the kraken would move on during the night. We enjoyed camping on the banks of the Great Yudonke, and did so whenever we could.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The kraken watched us with a petulant look and after a while settled back into the water. Apparently awaiting his next victim. I wondered what he wanted from the people he stopped. He never said anything to us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> That night we had a big fire and roasted marshmallows. It was a fine evening and we began star gazing as the fire died down. It is curious that Yudonke's sky is very similar to earth's. Exactly the same was how Rover, our navigator, described it. Rover was once a detective who had worked with Inspector Gee and Sgt Goat, well known detectives in Elvenstead. People were quicker to believe Rover and, doubting my own recollection, we all agreed; identical night skies. Steddy, being a robot, had no trouble being awake and on guard at night since he never slept, something we had to take turns doing before, and guard-duty was never a popular post. I didn't think about the kraken until the next morning. I could see he was still lurking in the water, watching and waiting. I walked down to the water's edge.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hey Kraken!" I yelled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> There were ripples in the water as it rose up to look at me. "What you want, elf?" it asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "No kraken, that's my question. What do you want?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I asked first."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Okay. I want passage forward on the river to continue our journey," I stated. I paused as we eyed each other. "So what do you want?" I repeated.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> It looked at me with wary skepticism. "What do you mean, what do I want?" it demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "You must want something or you'd let us pass," I said, in a stern voice, much like my Captain's voice wherein everyone jumps to obey. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Want?" it asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes, so that we can pass. You know, I give you something and you give me something," I smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Nah, that ent right," it snarled, giving me a disbelieving look. "I don want nothing."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Then why are you blocking the river?" I asked. Some of the captains from other stalled boats were there and they wanted to know too.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "'Cause it's fun," the monster murmured, giving us a cursory dismissal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Flummoxed, I returned to our camp, as did the other captains to theirs. After reporting everything to the crew we decided to pack up and return to the Rivitir. Unlike the other boats stalled here we could easily fly over the kraken but I was loath to do so. I didn't like flying away and leaving them to their predicament.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Crew," I said, "these people here, stalled by the kraken, need our help to continue. I'm sure there's upstream traffic on its other side looking to get through as well. Any ideas?" <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We could take turns confronting the kraken near to shore so that someone could slip by on its other side. I don't think it can block the entire river at once," Brak offered. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hmm, yes, good idea, Brak," I said, nodding encouragement.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Those tentacles are awful long," Rover commented. "Looked like it could possibly span the river, but I'm not sure."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Does sound risky," Jant agreed. "How about we offer it something more fun?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hmm, now that's an interesting notion," I said. "But unless any of you do, I have no idea what krakens like."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "They like blocking things," Rover stated.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "That's certainly true, but I don't see how we can use that," I answered.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I think there might be some negativity in the kraken's thinking," Jant said, "so that means it's not totally happy."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hmm, yeah I think maybe you're right, Jant," I said, nodding agreement. "So what do you think would make it happy?" <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "A mate," she replied with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Two of them could totally block the river with ease," Rover noted.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "But I don't think that'd be what they'd opt to do," Jant replied. "They'd have each other. At least to start."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Later on they'd totally block the river?" Rover asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I, uh, well, I guess they could," Jant admitted.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Gosh, it looks like we don't have any options," I said, feeling discouraged.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>You haven't asked me.</span></i><span>}<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Zingellawabix," I said, out loud.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "You hearing him?" Rover asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I was the only one who could hear him. He's a magic wand that's older than our solar system and somehow we connected in the fight against evil, or what he calls the anti-life. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah," I answered Rover, "he says I should ask him about the kraken." I closed my eyes and concentrated.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>Zingellawabix?</span></i><span>}<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>Yes Rosy, I've been waiting.</span></i><span>}<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>What is your idea?</span></i><span>}<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>Remember my powers, to bind and to shrink, especially to shrink. I can make the kraken small, as small as an octopus, smaller if need be.</span></i><span>}<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><i><span> </span></i><span>"Zingellawabix can make the kraken small," I told the crew. </span><i><span> </span></i><span>"But I want to confront the kraken first."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I returned to the water's edge, followed by the crew. "Hey Kraken!" I yelled. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> There were ripples and the giant form of the kraken rose from the water. "What you want, elf?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Listen here, kraken. If you don't move out of the way I'll use a magic wand and shrink you down to the size of an octopus," I stood heroically, serving a just cause. Some of the other captain's were watching with the crew.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The Kraken's eyes went round, then its mouth went round. "Oooooh," it said. "You can do that?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I thought it might be mocking me so I stood taller, "Yes, kraken. I can do that." I was firm in my solid Captain's voice.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> For a long moment it looked at me. Then it smiled wide. "You can make me normal? Make me so I'm not a monster anymore but just like any other octopus? Huh? You can do that?" </span><i><span> </span></i><span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes," I said. I didn't expect this.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Well then do it!" it shrieked. "Oh my oh golly yes do it! Make me normal like the others!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Zingellawabix heard, through me, and began the shrinking. For dramatic effect I raised my arms and made magical gestures. In just a flash a regular sized octopus sat in the water where the kraken had been. It smiled a huge smile at me. "Oh thank you, thank you! I am so thrilled to finally fit in. Now I can go to octopus school and become important!" It blew a kiss at me and yelled, "I will love you forever!" then it swam away. The crew and the other captains began applauding. Then the captains ran off to their various ships and boats.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I was really glad it ended well for the kraken and smiled, gazing at the now unobstructed river. Already boats were resuming their journeys. Several of the captains saluted me as they passed. I smiled and waved, before returning to the Rivitir with the crew.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Later I sat in the bridge with Brak watching the sunset. We each have incredibly comfortable chairs here, chairs that will turn and tilt and lean back and on and on, so we're comfortably watching. Ellim keeps us supplied with whatever we think of before we can think of it, but, despite the amazing panorama of a Yudonke sunset, I am dozing . . .<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> She gazed out her window at the darkening skies, imagining them to be Yudonke skies. Her sasquatch husband who'd been gardening in the grassy area around the tower, came in and sat on the sofa. He smiled at her and asked, "A story?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> She grinned and nodded. "Yes, it's about a kraken."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Tell me," he said. <o:p></o:p></span></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/73215112023-12-19T14:42:26-07:002023-12-19T14:42:26-07:00Fringe Walker - Rosy<p><span>I walk the fringes, the edges where few others will go.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>It's because they're poorly paved, crumbling in spots, and rarely well lit.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>The fringes and edges that is, because we know<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>the others are usually well lit, like candles in the dark of space;<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>I am, I am, I am, over and over again, stumbling in a darkling race,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>with fierce determination, amazing grace and a fire that singes, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>and burns without leaving a trace.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>Which is why I walk the fringes.</span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/73215102023-12-19T14:42:13-07:002023-12-19T14:42:14-07:00While you were sleeping - By Rosy<p><span>In the time of golden glows and peaceful repose,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>when the nights grow ever longer<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>there's a joyful song that flows and goes<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>to the heart of gladness, gratitude and wonder. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p> </p><p><span>There we perceive and ponder our fates<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>good begets good and bad begets bad.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>All to remember; energy pulses and radiates,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>expanding, rebounding, three times it draws back.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>Does goodness then arrive or is there lack?<o:p></o:p></span></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/73215092023-12-19T14:41:54-07:002023-12-19T14:41:54-07:00Upward - By Rosy<p><span>Time is an essence, space a conclusion that something, there's something that we've waited for.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>Imagine a world as you already have, then dwell there in person, becoming a new way of loving and being.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>See there, the world you've made, feel the way you fit in.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>The way that you dream it, the way that you fill it, this is what gives it its form.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>The hunter has gathered enough factory made mass, and the great river flows to the sea,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>past the shore.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>Imagine the difference from here to there, a morning song yearning,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>perhaps something more.<o:p></o:p></span></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/73092912023-11-25T12:11:55-07:002023-11-25T12:11:55-07:00The Most Wonderful Thing - By Rosy<p><span> It's a cloudy day and there's been some house cleaning going on. Gee, but it's swell to be done! Whew! So, what's left? The Most Wonderful Thing is what's left. Uh-huh, and what would that be? A place, person, animal, plant, thing?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> This, then, is our quest and our vehicle is the AV Rivitir. I'm Captain Rosy and my crew is, Rover, Brak and Jant. Mission: Find the Most Wonderful Thing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Captain's log, Alfendate: Saturn's Day, October 21, 2023; 2:10 pm.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I must report that what is going on in the human world today is not at all wonderful. Difficult to find even some good, with two wars going on, both pointing their fingers accusingly at all westerners, whose veracity in doing so is somewhat iffy given the honest histories of all involved, which are usually little known, sometimes a state secret, and always favoring the conquerors, the survivors, which means there are no innocents, none at all. Pointing a finger always leaves the others pointed back at the accuser. Why accuse at all? Is live and let live really so awful? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> How about nationally? Well, the humans around here have a documented liar, con-man, insurrectionist, traitor, cheater and worse, currently on trial facing numerous very serious indictments, who is also running for president, yet who, inexplicably, remains that party's favorite candidate, while the relatively sane other party can only find an old, albeit capable, man. Many of the voters avoid interaction on every level due to the increasingly volatile and depressing polity presented to them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> A Russian lady, Elena Gold, described the mentality of a lost nation, her nation, and in doing so she described many, many Americans whose minds are lost to the enormity of the evil they face, which is quite similar to what Russians face today, vis-a-vis their war. I quote, "Simply because of money and the desire to live problem free "outside of politics," people cease to be humane."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> A lot of people in this country share this mindset, enough to make a difference. Naked aggression, fear, greed and loathing have all been unleashed and are bent on taking over, forcibly, if need be, just to achieve some sort of pyrrhic victory over their own failures, mindlessly destroying everything in the process. Okay then, what is The Most Wonderful Thing in </span><i><span>this </span></i><span>setting?</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Hmmmm.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Pain free? Guaranteed security? Long life?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Perhaps all three with one or the other dominant at any given time. Close to impossible to achieve in the human world of course, unless you're evil rich which may in fact be the worst fate of all. In any case, for us, that leaves just the Fae, or the realms of inter-dimensional magic unleashed by imagination. What do I think of then as the most wonderful thing? Who has all three plus location? Why it's Spike, of course. Rover's mentor and the seemingly immortal bulldog caretaker of Lillow's Farm, itself an ancient site of many harrowing and heroic adventures and probably the most magical place in all of Elvenstead. Spike was there through it all and none the worse for wear, probably better.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> It has been rumored that the secret of Spike's immortality may lie in his relationship to the farm. Both he and the farm are intricately connected and both are, for us mortals anyway, immortal. Could one be so, without the other? At this time it's mere conjecture, as Spike rarely leaves the farm and then only for short trips, but this connection, this mutual need of one for the other, remains a commonly held belief. So, I guess this bulldog is the most wonderful thing, right now. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I've heard that back in the day Spike loved a sophisticated French dog, a well-trimmed poodle named Sweet Loretta. At that time Spike pretty much ran the domestic scene at Glad Manor, the farm's center and home to the four founding witches. He especially kept charge of the grounds around the manor. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> On the southwest corner of the manor's grounds is a place called Ishmael's Wall. It's a short but stout wall that made a perfect backdrop for Spike and his friends to howl at the moon, and especially the full moon. While offering some noise protection for the manor behind, the howl could be heard for kilometers downstream of that wall, so to speak.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Spike liked to bring Sweet Loretta to the howl to show off his howling prowess, and it is this very scene that Rover remembered as among his first, if not his actual first, remembrance of puppyhood. He remembers standing there staring at the full moon and hearing the howls of the other more experienced dogs around him, beginning low, one or two, growling before letting loose a howl then slowly building until the entire pack is reared back and howling full on. He remembers his surprise at hearing his own voice joining them, stretching to the moon, a young puppy howl surrounded by his own people, his pack, Spike and Sweet Loretta, all howling at the moon. </span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/73092902023-11-25T12:11:29-07:002023-11-25T12:11:29-07:00Monsters - By Rosy<p style="text-align:center;"><span>- 1 -<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> When Rover and Spike get together, they run like dogs, like they used to run when they were puppies, hundreds of years ago. Bounding and leaping, having a barking, tail-waggin' good time. They'll run back and forth across the meadow or into the woods or into Probable Creek or wherever the winds may take them, loving every moment. Their joy is palpable and everyone moves about wearing a silly smile.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The Rivitir is here for her maintenance call, keeping updated and charged, while we, the crew, take a couple days off. Brak and Jant catch a waggal to Elvenstead to visit their family home and of course the Heroes Я Us Collective where they learned their amazing hero stuff. Rover and Spike have goings on of their own, no doubt, and I am off to see the witches at Witchhaven in Shady Glen, not too far from the meadow where the Rivitir's docking station is at. The meadow is the old heart of Lillow's Farm and Witchhaven is the new.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The witches know I always stop in when the Rivitir's docked and Jant sent them a message on one of her devices so they'll be expecting me. I set out with happiness and joy, taking the trail past Holly's Altar in the ancient old-growth Thagwood Forest, going up a long gradual incline then spiraling down into Shady Glen, an ancient faerie settlement that has since become an important elvish center. Witchhaven is just to the north of Shady Glen. As I approached, Nelly came running out to meet me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Rosy! So glad to see you!" she chirped, holding her arms out. We hugged as I told her how great it was to see her and how great it was to be here at Witchhaven.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> She pulled back, holding my upper arms, and with a sympathetic look told me, "Hey, yeah about that. Well, we're all set up to have an adventure in the west, lots to explore there you know, but we especially need to check out the reports we've been getting of a new portal forming there." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It'll be the biggest portal we've ever faced," Aggy said as she walked out to greet me. "And we thought, well, . . ."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We thought," Nelly finished, "being how you're an adventurer and all, that rather than leave you in an empty manor house for your stay, we'd invite you along."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Gosh yes!" I replied. I was delighted, as I do seem to crave adventure.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Good then, let's be on our way," Aggy said, leading us west. Nelly and I were joined by Lagretta and Tenner who'd come running out of the manor as soon as we'd begun. They wore big smiles and greeted me with joy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "You know what's going on, don'tcha?" Lagretta asked as we entered Thagwood, continuing west.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "No, just that there's a portal and a likely adventure," I answered with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> She nodded. "Well, it's got to do with a portal alright, only this portal is huge."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's the biggest and most dangerous portal we've ever faced," Aggy repeated over her shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "That's right," Tenner agreed behind us. We proceeded silently as the forest grew thicker, darker, with shadows, long shadows that writhed and snapped. We were at the back side of the Glamoury Wall and walked easily through.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The Glamoury Wall shows terrifying images of dinosaurs, dragons, snakes and crocodiles that once infested the Swamp of Doom to the south of us. No one knows for sure what all lives there now, but these old images remain terrifying and still serves to keep unwary travelers going around rather than through the farm. Faeries particularly like the isolation but the elves here like it too, so the wall is maintained. That's one of the duties of the witches, as maintainers and caretakers. We stopped when we were well away from the spectacle and looked back. Wow. The images are truly terrifying. We continued west into the wilderness.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "So this here portal," Lagretta continued, " is the biggest portal any of us have ever seen."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "And we don't know what to do about it," Nelly said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It could be, probably is, extremely dangerous," Aggy put in.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "So we're uh, we're going to have look at it. See what needs doing," Lagretta said with a smile. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> It wasn't long before we got a look at it. First there was a glow, like a warm cover over the event. Then came the piercing blue and silver sparks of a breached event horizon and finally the portal itself. Looming higher as we neared, it seemed ominous and portentous. Easily twenty meters high and fifteen wide. Its innards looked like an endless brown tunnel that seemed to writhe rhythmically, like a slow wave in the ocean, big and momentous, yet seeming so gentle when unopposed. A lolling rhythm that was compelling. Commanding . . .<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Don't stare at it," Aggy yelped, breaking my concentration. I blinked and looked around. The portal had nearly hypnotized me. Now it looked like the gaping maw of a long, long snake, poisonous and hypnotic. I backed up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We stood looking at this monster portal for a long moment. "Well, we gotta see what's in there if we ever hope to shut this thing down," Aggy said as she began walking toward the portal's wide open mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I gaped in wide-eyed horror and took another step back. Then I gaped again as Nelly, Tenner and Lagretta followed her in. With a sense of dread, I followed too.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span> - 2 -<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Once across the threshold everything was the same as we'd seen from outside except it was much smaller and the fluidity was gone. We were in a long brown, solid and firm hallway that was still pretty large. Then I noticed a door, quite a ways along, that was new. Aggy and the witches were already going toward it. I ran to catch up and was the last to step through the door into the meadow.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I could see Rover and Spike watching us with fierce, determined expressions, then I noticed that some of the goats had gone into attack mode with their heads down, all aimed at us. Some of the birds were flying overhead dropping things, like we were . . .<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Somehow they see us as an enemy!" Aggy yelled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "How can this be?" Tenner demanded. "We are at the heart of the farm; how can we be the enemy?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I could see defensive strategies, some of which I helped to devise, going into play. "We needa get outta here fast!" I yelped, running toward the forest. Understanding my urgency the witches quickly followed. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We ran until we were out of sight then we hid. After a time, when we felt for sure that we weren't being followed, I led them to a place I knew up in Thagwood Forest where, on a rocky hillside and at a particular spot, you could see the meadow. It was a distant view that Rover and I had discovered years ago while hiking these woods, something we both loved to do.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Looking down at the meadow I could see more defensive strategies being employed. Rover was overseeing the work when Spike came rushing over and told him something. Then they both turned and looked right at us. We ducked but I suspect they saw us. What made them look up here? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Something's happening," I said, unsure of what I was trying to say, "and I'm not sure what exactly but well . . . do you think the portal's still here? You know, where we found it over in the western wilderness?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Hmmm, I think I see what you're saying," Aggy said, nodding.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Tenner and Nelly looked at us curiously but Lagretta nodded too. "Go through in a reverse direction and maybe undo what going through did to us," she said, looking at Aggy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, that's it, Lagretta," Aggy responded. She looked at me. "Is that what you were thinking?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, I mean I didn't have it as clearly as I you put it, but yeah, I agree. We needa go back through the portal."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We immediately began the trek to the portal. We all seemed to feel a sense of urgency although none of us could say why. When we got there, we could see Rover standing out front, but as soon as he saw us, he took off running in the other direction. I wanted to give chase and box his ears, the cheeky mutt and for a brief moment I felt enraged.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "C'mon, let's go," Aggy said, pulling me along. "we needa get through this thing before those double dratted defenders come after us." She seemed pretty angry and the others cast angry gazes at where Rover had run off to. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We re-entered the portal and found another door on the opposite side of where the first had been and stepped into the meadow just as Rover returned with Spike.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover ran up to me. "Oh, here you are at last! Am I ever glad to see you, Ma'am!" he barked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I'm glad to see you too Rover! And Spike!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes, Captain, Aggy, you all," Spike said, with a serious expression. "You're just in time, in fact, because we just saw some trolls a little while ago."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "There was orcs, too," Rover added.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Trolls and orcs, so we been preparing without you guys," Spike said, looking important.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "From what I've seen," Aggy said with a smile, "you guys have done a first rate job."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I agree, " I said, smiling at Rover.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "So where do you figure the attack's going to come from?" Rover asked, looking anxiously toward the west where the portal lay.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Aggy said with a smile. "We just got back from a secret mission that has completely resolved your, er, our troll problem."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover and Spike both gave her looks of doubt.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We wondered where you was at," Spike said, "but I don't think you understand, you didn't see these guys. They were monsters!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah!" Rover added.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "And monsters don't just go away," Spike finished.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> With a resigned shrug I explained to them what had happened, how the portal had made us look like monsters, until we backtracked through the portal. "So I think we'll be okay as long as we guard that portal and keep other people from doing what we did," I finished.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "And that's just what we'll do," Lagretta said with a look of determination.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Meanwhile we'll be looking for ways to block it permanently," Aggy added.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover and I returned to the Rivitir which was ready to go and found Brak and Jant already back. They'd had a great time at the Heroes Я Us get-together and they were both recharged and rarin' to go. When we told them of our adventure Jant looked at me with wide eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Jeez Captain, I just can't imagine you or any of the witches somehow becoming the enemy."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, that must have been awful," Brak said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We didn't recognize them at all," Rover said, "not even a hint that I could tell."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> They looked at me with a mildly sad awe that I found unnerving.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Well, things will be fine now," I said, assuming my Captain position. "Take us somewhere, Rover," I ordered before averting my gaze. I was nonplussed, remembering that while I was a monster I had relished, for the smallest moment, just before re-entering the portal, the thought of springing on those weak meadow defenders in full warrior regalia. Rover, Spike and all. It had been a thankfully small but intense rush of berserker rage, that in remembrance scared me. </span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/72835412023-10-05T18:13:38-07:002023-10-16T07:57:28-07:00Igor, the Dancing Queen - By Rosy<p><span>1)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We have landed near a mighty mountain that's so tall its peak is capped with perpetual snow even in this late summer heat. Brak has landed us in a beautiful mountain meadow on the mighty mountain's lower side that is loaded with flowers of every color. We were smelling the flower scents wafting in the air and marveling at the grassy meadow, complete with a bubbling brook, when a local Gnome Of Police, known as GOP, arrived. I don't know how those GOP gnomes travel but he just seemed to appear, with no apparent vehicle, certainly no flashing lights.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> He held his GOP badge up and pointed at it with his other hand, “Look here, see?” He looked over at Jant who was by the Rivitir. “You too, come see,” he ordered. “Look at it!” he barked as we stood there looking at his badge. It was very shiny, silver with a gold background and gold GOP lettering, nicely fitted in a smart black wallet that was folded behind, held high in the gnome's hand as he ordered us to look at his badge, making sure we each got to see it close up. “Look at it!” he commanded each time. When we all saw it at least a couple times he looked at the Rivitir. “Anyone inside?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “No sir,” I replied, hoping for a quick, peaceful resolution. “We're all here. I'm the Captain of that vessel, which is called the All-Vehicle Rivitir by the way.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Them's your crew?” he asked, nodding at the others.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “That's right. That one is Rover, our navigator, next is Brak, our ace pilot and that one by the Rivitir is Jant, our communications specialist.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> He was polishing his badge with a handkerchief from his pocket. “That so,” he huffed. “So, are you criminals?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “No sir, we are not,” I answered firmly. “We're peaceful adventurers.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Hmmm,” he murmured, admiring his badge. “So, what'd you think of my badge?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Huh? I mean, er, well I thought it was impressive,” I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “It is impressive,” he agreed, then looking at Rover, “And you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover grinned and wagging his tail said, “Woof-woof!” I'd heard that line before and couldn't help but scowl.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Hmmm,” the gnome said, also scowling.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I decided to mediate. “Rover is saying wonderful, wonderful in dog language,” I explained. It did sound plausible.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Now the gnome was scowling at me. “It is wonderful,” he agreed, while still scowling. He looked at Brak. “What'd you think?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “I thought it was fabulous!” Brak told him enthusiastically.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “It is fabulous,” the gnome said, nodding his head. He looked enquiringly at Jant.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Oh! Well I thought it was okay,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Okay?” the gnome snapped, “Okay?” Jant was backing up. “Well I didn't shine it for you!” the gnome screamed, then marched away in a huff.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Now that was weird,” I said, shaking my head when he was gone. “Reminded me of something, but I don't know what.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “The Lizard Queen is having a ball!” a squeaky voice behind me chirped. I turned and there was a white rabbit watching me, but as quickly as I turned, it took off, bounding across the meadow.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “I'm beginning to think there's more to this meadow than appearances would suggest,” I said, watching the rabbit disappear into the shrubs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “This whole place is weird,” Jant said, scowling and also watching the spot where the rabbit disappeared. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> A squirrel sitting on a branch of a nearby tree spoke up, “It wasn't weird until you got here.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Huh?” I said, “What'ya mean by that?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Just what I said. We was all normal, then you come along and now this.” He pointed to a figure approaching across the meadow. Even far away we could tell instantly that it was a camel.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Yes, that is weird,” I conceded, “but I don't see what it has to do with us.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “You need to visit the Lizard Queen,” he chirped, then he scurried up the tree and disappeared into the branches.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p> </p><p><span>2)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Jant, stay with the Rivitir. Rover and Brak, come with me,” I said, starting to walk across the meadow, following the faint trail the rabbit had left. “I think there's a mystery here that we've stumbled upon and whether or not we're needed for its solving, it's still likely the reason for our being here. I suspect this Lizard Queen has the answers.” I looked back at the far distant camel but it was just plodding along, seemingly unconcerned with our actions. In the bushes I discovered a small path and we began following it. After a pretty long time we stopped to rest and consider. Where did the path lead to? Why were we following it? It seemed to be getting better though, a little wider and apparently more well traveled as we progressed, although we haven't seen another being so far. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “I think we're in Mish,” Rover said, looking around.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I looked again at the mountain. “How can you tell?” I asked, “I mean I thought this was the far northeast of Elvenstead, you know, where the super tall mountains are at.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Hmmm, yeah, okay I can see that,” he said, looking again at the mountain. “So this is either Elvenstead or Mish,” he stated, as if that settled it. But it certainly did not settle it since Elvenstead and Mish are on opposite sides of the continent, thousands of kilometers apart.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “You can't get any more precise than that, </span><i><span>navigator?</span></i><span>” I asked, emphasizing navigator.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Well, it's not Joten,” he replied, looking into the forest.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Before I could say more, and I did have more to say, a gnome, partially hidden in the trees but clearly watching us, began to sing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Here, here the Queen is here, where do you think you're going? Here, here the Queen is here, everyone is waiting, all anticipating, here, here get over here!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The last few words of his song were accompanied by stamps of his foot. And despite gnomes normally wearing placid expressions, this fellow was grinning wide. We turned and headed cross country toward him but as we approached, he started fading and when we arrived there was nothing left but a big grin floating in the air. Brak reached up to touch it but as soon as he did, it popped, like a balloon, leaving nothing, not even shreds like a balloon would do. Further, this small glade was empty of gnomes, queens, or anybody. No one at all to question. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “I think we can all agree,” I stated, “that this place is really weird.” Brak nodded, looking around. Somehow it reminded me of something, but I couldn't recall what.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Captain!” Rover barked, “this could be the wilderness north of Joten.” He'd unrolled one of his maps and was studying it, comparing it to the landscape around us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Wilderness?” I asked, somewhat more nonplussed. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Something's coming,” Brak interrupted, cocking his head, and looking back in the direction that I'm pretty sure we'd come from. We all stayed silent, listening. Then we could hear, in the distance, the sound of a large animal following the forest path we'd been on. We crouched in the shrubbery, watching. The animal was slow, plodding along, clomp, clomp, clomp. Then we saw it, unmistakable in the distance, a camel. It stopped at the exact point where we'd left the trail at the behest of the gnome and turned its head to look right at us. Then it began walking toward us, slowly following the course we had come on. I was completely taken aback. Should we run? The camel seemed calm, just plodding along, slowly coming toward us, crashing through bushes we'd crashed through, following our exact trail, and not trying to sneak up. Sooner than you would think, it was here.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p> </p><p><span>3)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> It looked at me. “Captain Rivitir, I presume?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Oh! Uh, well, yes, that's right. And who may I ask, are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “I'm Sedgewick. The Queen sent me to take you to her.” He looked around. “I see the forest gnomes have been playing with you. You're quite a ways off course.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “We are?” I asked. “I mean, we didn't exactly have a course. No plan at all really, so how could we be off course?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Yes, precisely my point,” he said, looking down his nose at Rover. “Now, if you'll just follow me, I'll take you to the Queen, the wonderful Queen of Snozz.” Then he turned and began walking back the way we had come. Everything seemed reminiscent of something else but I couldn't place it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Is she the Lizard Queen?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Sedgewick snorted, “Idle gossip spread by ignorant peasants!” he hissed, “Just like the tricksters you first met up with. No ma'am, she's a genuine gnome, just like me, for sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I wondered if I should tell Sedgewick that he was really a camel but thought better of it. Besides, I was still miffed at being tricked, over and over, so I accepted his explanation. Soon, I was embarrassed as we passed the Rivitir going the other direction, clearly backtracking, but Rover seemed unconcerned, grinning his grin as he trotted along. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Jant waved at us and Brak called over, “We went the wrong way!” She gave us a thumbs up, as we followed Sedgewick across the meadow.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> At the top of the meadow, where Sedgewick had first appeared there was another path. A well-maintained path that was much wider and paved with some sort of brick that was painted yellow. It was pretty smooth and traveling was easy. We passed a corn field with luscious ears of ripe core hanging from the stalks. Rover grabbed one in his mouth and walked along with it, seeming quite pleased. I paid him no mind, just Rover being Rover. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Suddenly a loud voice yelled, “Stop! Stop thief!” We stopped, genuinely shocked but Sedgewick continued plodding along.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Don't listen to him, but do leave the corn,” he told us without glancing back. Rover dropped the corn but kept looking back as we walked. When we came to a rise, I could see who was yelling. It was a scarecrow, stuck on a pole! He kept pointing at us as he yelled his accusations. I blinked, thinking it could be the wind moving his arm, pointing it at us, but the voice was real enough.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Then, every so often as we continued on, the voice would shriek, “Thief!” or “Burglar!” and each time the wind would obligingly lift its arm. I took it as mere taunting though, as there was really nothing anybody could do. Sedgewick plodded on and we followed. He was quite reticent, offering few words and answering questions with short ambiguous phrases.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We had come a long ways and I was about to ask for a break when we rounded a corner and there was a magnificent green city, emerald green, almost faceted. We stared in amazement. Sedgewick plodded on. The city's gates opened for us as we neared and we followed a broad boulevard up its center, toward an amazing green glass castle, whose wide doors opened for us to a spacious hallway leading to a brilliant green glass throne where sat a stunning regal figure, at least three meters tall, her face somehow shrouded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Sedgewick stopped. “Here they are Queen, ma'am. The gnomes tricked 'em to going the wrong way so it took awhile, but here they are, just like you ordered.” There was no response. He looked at me, and said, “Well, nice a meetcha.” To which he turned and walked away. I watched him go in stunned silence, then I looked up at the figure on the throne but it seemed just an immobile giant with a grim visage, its staring eyes piercing the veil like laser beams. We three stood watching it, waiting for something to happen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p> </p><p><span>4)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> It was difficult to see the figure's face for some reason. Shadows or something, so I called out, “Hello! Can you hear me?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> A booming, amplified voice answered slowly, enunciating each word clearly, “Yes, I, can, hear, you.” There seemed to be an odd echo somewhere. Then the figure began emitting sparks and flashes while strange lights began flashing. It repeated, much louder this time and it stamped its scepter down making a thump for the first word. “YES, Dammit, I, can hear you!.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The echo was louder too and I looked over at a curtained alcove where it seemed to have come from. I walked over. There appeared to be someone behind the curtain, but I was thinking, Oh no! This cannot be true! Emerald city? A yellow brick road? A wonderful Queen being run from behind a curtain? This was too much.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The curtains fluttered a little and something peeked out. “PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE CURTAINS!” the Queen image shrieked, “I COMMAND YOU TO COME BACK, STAY AWAY FROM THE CURTAINS!” The voice was almost screeching as I pulled the curtains aside. “IGNORE THE LIZARD BEHIND THE CURTAIN!” a little round lizard lady with white hair yelled into a microphone. Then she turned and looked at me with a guilty, yet angry expression. “You looked behind the curtain, didn't you? You just hadda look behind the curtain, something I explicitly told you not to do. But you just went and did it.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “What's this all about?” I asked. I couldn't believe how this whole experience seemed to be mimicking another famous experience. Could this be the Lizard Queen? I was steaming up. Brak and Rover joined us wearing angry looks. I continued, “I'm getting sick and tired of all this running in circles and all the weird goings on and,” I stopped when the old lady held her hand up to stop.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “I guess I got a little carried away,” she admitted, “it's just that normally all these lights and that amplified voice really impresses the gnomes. They do whatever I want and, well, they can be a bother if you let them.” I nodded. We knew. “So I thought that'd impress you all too, and that you'd listen, then perhaps I could, you know, as Queen, maybe give you a certain command, that maybe I could,”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “A certain command?” I interrupted.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Well, yes.” She paused, looking around. Then she whispered, “Do you see any gnomes anywhere?” We all looked around carefully but didn't see any gnomes. Then, still whispering, she continued, “I could order you, well request really, I could make a royal request that you take a certain little old lizard lady, who is clearly not the Queen, mind you, back with you, back to the real world.” She looked contemptuous. “You cannot believe these gnomes! Always pulling pranks but too stupid to run their own government, so what do they do? They kidnap me, the Lizard Queen, to do it for them. But they're powerful and must never know I'm escaping! They must believe their Queen remains here as I, er, the little old lady, leaves.” She looked furtively around.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “I see,” I muttered, understanding a little more now. “Yes, of course, I'm sure we can do that,” I said, looking at Rover and Brak.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Yeah, we can do it,” Rover said as Brak nodded agreement.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> She smiled at us, murmuring, “Thank you,” as she pulled the curtain back into place. Through the curtain she whispered, “Go back and talk with the Queen. The gnomes will be here soon.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span>5)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We returned to the throne. Then the Queen's amplified voice, much less strident now, began speaking, “I have sent for the Ministers of This, That and Poddunk too, so that I can tell them of this, and of that, and about our discussion too.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I was pretty sure I knew what she'd said and nodded. “Okay, Queen, uh, oh, by the way, what's your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> She stuck her head around the curtain, whispering loudly, “I'm Igor, the Lizard Queen, but known hereabouts as the wonderful Queen of Snozz.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Igor?” I asked, dumbfounded yet again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Yeah, you gotta problem with that?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “No!” I said quickly, “No problem at all. Its a fine name, a uh, a queenly name.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Sure is,” she agreed, “I come from a long line of Lizard Queens, all named Igor.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Just then the door opened, and she disappeared behind the curtain. A gnome stepped in and announced, “The Ministers of This, That and Poddunk are here, yer Queenship, ma'am.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We stood humbly before the throne as three officiously solemn looking gnomes marched in, wearing long robes of various colors and elaborate headpieces.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> “Listen Ministers,” the Queen began, “these here elves have agreed to take another lizard, a lizard spy in fact, that was recently caught here by some secret police that you don't know about, nothing to do with me of course, but this other nefarious lizard was caught right here by these brave police, maybe trying to steal my luxury job, maybe stuff from you and we gotta deport her back to lizard land.” These gnomes seemed to know that their Queen was a lizard. “So let 'em go,” she finished.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The gnomes looked suspiciously at us, and more so when Igor came out, carrying a suitcase. “To a gnome, all lizards look alike,” she explained, as we calmly walked out and began down the boulevard. I could see gnomes watching but no one tried to stop us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Walking down the boulevard, and for a while down the road, Igor would loudly proclaim, “I coulda snuck up and took that Queen job easy! And lots of other stuff too!” or “I'd be a lot better Queen than what you got!” So that the gnomes would think that Igor was still back there, being Queen like always.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We hurried to the Rivitir where Brak got us outta there Hypergosh fast. Back in Elvenstead we dropped Igor off in Bakeoven, her high desert demesne where her people welcomed her joyously with music and dancing for days. Yaaaay! They sang, the Lizard Queen is back! Igor is certainly happier and much more believable as a dancing Lizard Queen than she is as the wonderful Queen of Snozz, that's for sure. </span></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/72835352023-10-05T18:08:52-07:002023-10-05T18:08:52-07:00Hold On To Something That Makes You Feel Alright - By Rosy<p style="text-align:center;"><span><u>Part 1<o:p></o:p></u></span></p><p><span> Brak brings the Rivitir down to a bumpy landing. I don't notice because I'm asleep or in the throes of a gigantic lethargy when I'm not. I didn't care where we landed except that it be peaceful. I have been so excited about visiting the Little Lost Corkers for so long and have been so thwarted in this desire for even longer that I am rendered indifferent. Land anywhere Rover tells you, I tell them, although I seriously doubt that Rover knows, but you know, whatever, go ahead and land wherever he says, I say.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I'm Capt. Rosy of the All-Vehicle Rivitir. Brak is our ace pilot, Jant runs the radar and Rover looks at maps. These then are the voyages of the AV Rivitir. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I was awakened by the front door opening. When you're the captain of a spaceship, which is a hermetically sealed environment, you stay conscious of the door. If it opens, you know it. Even when you're away, usually. So when our front door opened, I was awake. I stood and crossed my luxurious suite in a single bound. Throwing the door open I yelled, "What's happening?" but got no response.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Ellim rolled up and offered me some tea. Ellim is our 11:11BS service bot.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Thanks, Ellim," I said, looking around. "So, where is everyone?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Out, Captain," he replied, without moving.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I take a sip of the tea, which is excellent, and continued, "Out where, Ellim?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "To the beach, Captain. My orders were to not disturb you."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Beach?" I asked with wide eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes Ma'am. It's really quite marvelous. It's called Paradise Beach, said to be the finest beach in all the Corkers."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "The Corkers?" I repeated in amazement. I walked over and gazed out the window, with Ellim following.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yes," he continued, "the beautiful city you see over there is Wataspot, the finest city in all the Corkers." He seemed somehow to be beaming with pride. He pointed back. "Behind us is the beach. We're parked in a shady picnic area, configured as a caravan camper. We got a week reserved."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Oh, golly this is swell!" I whooped. I rushed back to my Captain's Suite to change into beachwear and grab a towel. My excitement was high. From what I'd seen of Paradise Beach through the front window this place was well named. Ellim handed me the big umbrella that I like to use on the beach and I was starting for the door when it suddenly swung open and a frantic Rover, Brak and Jant came rushing in, slamming the door behind them. Brak ran to the driver's seat and started the engine, while Rover peered intently out the window.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Jant ran to the radar. "Captain," she said as she ran past, "I'm glad you're up." She began pushing buttons and turning switches. "Hmmm," she murmured, gazing at the screen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "What's going on?" I yelled, peering out the window beside Rover. This was kind of freaky.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "The Corkers are being invaded," he told me as Brak took us to the air.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Invaded? What? Who's invading?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "The Umpalumpians," he said as we flew away from Paradise Beach and the Little Lost Corkers. "It's a tribe of renegade mushrooms. They used to be okay in the dark but now, all of a sudden, they want sunlight. Lots and lots of sunlight like you would find on the equator, and places like the Little Lost Corker Islands." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "That sounds horrible!" I yelped. I looked outside at the war machines becoming visible on the horizon. "You're telling me these mushrooms are going to war for . . . what again?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Sunlight! Their dastardly king demanded sunlight just out of the blue, and that's got them all riled up," Brak answered.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Sunlight?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, sunlight," Rover muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "So now there's war," Brak continued. "The Umpalumpian invasion fleet is on the horizon and since the Corkers have never needed a military, they stand defenseless."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Jeepers! So these mushroom people are demanding sunlight? What do we do?" I asked. It's important for the Captain to know what's going on.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Get out of the way until we know what's happening," Brak replied, quite sensibly steering the Rivitir away from the war zone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Dang! That invasion fleet is managing to hide their force. I'm just getting a small signal. Like it's just one ship," Jant said, looking up from her radar screen with a worried expression.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I went over and looked at the screen. "Wow, how'd those mushrooms get the power to hide like that?" I asked, looking out at the massive invasion force that now, apparently, also has the power to electronically hide their movements.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "They're not true mushrooms is what I heard," Rover answered, "rather they're related to humans in some sort of dark, twisted way, rather like Grimn-Leapers." He looked out at the approaching armada, now becoming more visible, and grimaced. "Their curiously shaped heads make them look like mushrooms and their choice of dark places to live make them seem like mushrooms except now they want, or demand, sunlight. They mean to occupy the lands with the most sunlight."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "The Little Lost Corkers," Jant said, tonelessly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover nodded then continued, "They appear to have been quite industrious in their hidden caverns, creating this massive force." He gestured at the approaching battle fleet, now way below us. It was huge with hundreds of battle ships and support boats. Brak took the Rivitir up higher to observe. The boats seemed packed with mushrooms, until they moved, then you could see that they were humanoid creatures. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> As we watched, the Corker Islands all surrendered. The Corkers knew nothing of war and bowed down to the professionals, waving white flags everywhere. No one wanted to mess with this business. The Umpalumpa mushroom people took control. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I was angry, of course, and took it personally. After virtual eons of trying to get here, to these fabled Corker Islands, to, well, Paradise Beach, which I actually saw in real life, through a window I was that close, before it was all snatched away by villainous mushrooms intent on conquering. And for what? Sunshine. Sunshine, which is available in huge quantities throughout the tropics, all shining down on this big ol' ocean-sized lake, Bigwata, that encompassed the earth . . . I stopped.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "In all of this huge ocean lake are the Little Lost Corkers the only land?" I asked Rover.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Well, there's that island with Skipper and that lot," Rover replied as he pulled out a map. I remembered. Alleged castaways of a three hour tour gone bad. "Ah, here it is," he said, unrolling the map on the floor. There was a broad strip of blue with five brown blobs representing islands. I bent over and read the names.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "East Cork, Fobble, Zonk, Cork and Bobble. Hmmm. Where's the castaway island?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's in uncharted waters Captain," Rover said, scowling at the map and pointing to a penciled in X.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "So there's no other islands?" <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I can't say. No one can as most of Bigwata's northern and southern sections are uncharted." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I stared in disbelief. "So conquering the Corkers makes sense if you want guaranteed sunshine," I murmured with wide eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "But why would mushrooms want sunshine?" Brak asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "That is the question," Rover answered, nodding. "Normally mushrooms like dark or shady areas. Why are they after direct sunlight?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I think we need to investigate this," I said. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The next morning we landed on a remote road on the far side of Fobble then, configuring the Rivitir as a caravan, we drove into Wataspot, hoping to return to our space in the park. We had a week reserved so there should be no problem.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> When we got to the park there was a closed gate in front and two curious people standing guard. They had large oval shaped heads that, when they're wearing the traditional brown dome hat, made them look like mushrooms. Their clothes were brown and they tended toward pole like figures. At even a short distance, if their arms are at their sides and they hold still, they look just like mushrooms. I was stunned and tried not to stare. We stopped in front of the gate and one of the mushrooms came up to the driver's window.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Whatya want?" he demanded as soon as Brak rolled the window down.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We're camping here and went for a drive," Brak explained as he showed them the permit. "Is something wrong?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "They's new management," the mushroom shrieked. "Pay again!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Keeping our calm we paid again for another week. We didn't want to rile any feathers or raise suspicions. When we got to our spot, we gathered in the front to peer out the window. There were militant looking mushrooms marching about in small groups, occasional elves here and there, whether islanders or visitors we couldn't tell, and little else. There was no traffic in the lanes that I could see.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Where's all the military equipment?" I asked. I looked over at Paradise Beach which was deserted. "And the boats?" I looked at the crew with wide eyes. "Yesterday we saw hundreds of ships full of soldiers heading this way and today there's just some soldiers and nothing else?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Maybe they took off as soon as they got control," Rover suggested. "Maybe to take the other islands."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I dunno," I said, shaking my head. "We all saw that invasion force. It was huge, bigger than we thought possible, easily enough to overwhelm all the islands at once with troops left over. Now there's no sign of that, just a few subdued elves and maybe a couple dozen militant mushrooms marching around trying to look scary." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Scared me," Rover murmured.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, well, okay they are scary. They got that. So where's all the rest?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Another thing," Rover added. "Did you notice how the mushrooms keep to the shade?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I did now. All of them that I could see, were definitely avoiding the sun.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "There's something untoward going on here, something big and scary," I said, feeling a shiver of apprehension.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Brak and Rover decided to take a walk into town. Wataspot is said to be the most luxurious vacation city in all of Yudonke.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I want to go," I said. I couldn't believe that I was actually here on Fobble and haven't even stepped foot on the ground, much less marveled at the sights.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, okay," Rover agreed. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Jant is staying to keep an eye on things and we have the Rivitir's innards set up just like inside a traditional caravan so any investigation should come up as just another common vacationing group.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Wearing typical tourist clothing Rover led the way as Brak and I followed. We had just arrived at the lane when, from out of the shadows, we were accosted by a group of five militant mushrooms. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Halt!" one of the mushrooms yelled at us. We stopped. "What are you doing?" he barked. I could tell he was a leader because he had a gold bar on his hat and he was doing the talking.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Since I'm our leader, the Captain in fact, I spoke up. "Well sir, we were just taking a walk, sight-seeing, you know? We're tourists here and we hadn't heard anything about you guys." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We are the new masters," he replied in a stentorian voice. "We are Umpalumpa! And everything belongs to us! All of it!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Gosh, that seems a bit much," I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "You will bow down to the supreme commander." He turned to the others, the ones who didn't have a gold bar, although one did have a silver bar, and screeched, "Bring them!" Then he turned and walked away, right into the shade. We followed, surrounded by four angry Umpalumpian militant mushrooms who seemed relieved to be in shade again. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> They took us to a luxury hotel where, in the main lobby, a royal court had been set up. They'd put one of the lobby couches on a table or something then draped the whole thing in brown sheets. The window shades were pulled and it was quite dim in the room. Sitting on the chair, well above everyone else, was a wizened old mushroom man with a large oval head and a crown like the dome hats the others wore only fancier, who was presumably the king, or supreme commander.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Here's you some tourists to mess with, oh great leader," the gold bar mushroom announced, bowing low. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> There were other Umpalumpians in the room besides the guards, like a court perhaps, and they began to chant softly; "Humba bumba, hooey wooey, habba habba Gumba! Humba bumba, hooey wooey, habba, habba Gumba! Humba bumba, hooey wooey, habba, habba Gumba! . . ." and on and on like that. The supreme leader stared straight ahead, seemingly unaffected by what was going on except he was tapping a foot in time to the chanting. Suddenly he stood and began a sort of weird singalong to the chanting, marching back and forth in front of his throne, pounding his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I'm de boss, I'm de master, I is supreme! I'm de blaster, yes, I'm de su, su, supreme leader! I'm de boss, I'm de master, I'ma su, su, supreme master blaster, I de boss, I decider what is righter, I de leader I is Num! Mer! One!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> The chanting stopped and Gumba stood with his arms spread, grinning wide as the Umpalumpians in the room broke into applause and cheering. Then he resumed sitting on his throne. The throne did look like a fine piece of hotel furniture. Must have come from the presidential suite. Then I wondered why the boss here wasn't in the presidential suite? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Okay then," Gumba said authoritatively. "What we got here?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "We got us some touristers yer worship," gold bar answered, grinning proudly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Is that so?" He looked at us. "You come to worship me?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "No Gumba, we came to swim. Why're we here?" Rover growled. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "You can't swim here you dummy!" Gumba shrieked. He didn't seem aware of the fact that the hotel's swimming pool was attached to the lobby behind him as well as there being a massive ocean-sized lake with a beach behind us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Why not?" Rover asked. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Cuz, I didn't say you could!" Gumba snapped, petulantly. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover growled low in his throat and, wearing a fierce expression, barked, "Well say we can! Now!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Everyone agreed instantly including Gumba who jerked back with a surprised look. "Okay, go swimming," he sputtered in a small voice. He looked at the guards and the court. "Iss okay. They can go swimmin'. I said. Go! Go!" He was brushing us away with his hands. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> We turned and strode out, returning to the Rivitir where Jant informed us that two more 'authorized' park rangers had come knocking, demanding the fees to park there. They both angrily denied the authenticity of the receipts we already had, claiming looters were operating and we should be more careful. Following our No Waves policy, Jant paid them, being careful to get another receipt each time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Well, this place has sure gotten weird," I said, shaking my head.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I'll say," Rover agreed. "One thing's for sure, though, Gumba isn't behind it all. I think those mushrooms were lied to and coerced into invading. They don't know what to do next, except to grab as much as they can before . . ."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Before what?" I asked. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> Rover looked at me somberly, "That's the question then, isn't it?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "The Umpalumpians were all dressed in drab brown clothing which we might be mistaking for uniforms," Brak observed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Not real military?" Rover questioned with raised eyebrows.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> When I thought about it nothing, except for the gold and silver bars and the leader's ostentatious hat, there was nothing suggesting military at all. Something was really off here. There should be troops everywhere based on what we saw of the invasion. What we saw, I repeated, remembering that horrifying vision, but as I recalled, we didn't really hear anything.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I looked at the crew. "Do you guys remember when we first went to Lillow's Farm, how Spike took us through the Glamoury Wall? Remember how big and how scary it was?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, I do," Rover said with a thoughtful expression.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I remember how silly I felt when we found out it was all just magical illusion," Jant said. "Just illusion, the whole scary thing. Imagine."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> I nodded. "I think the invasion was mostly glamoury, like the Glamoury Wall back on the farm, big and scary, but in the end just illusion."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "And the Umpalumpians were the small part that was real," Rover said, nodding, "so that the islanders would have actual invaders to surrender to, actual foreign people to deal with."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Yeah, that sounds right," Brak asserted. "From what I saw I don't think the Umpalumpians could hold out if the people resisted,"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "No, I don't think they could," I agreed. "But the illusion was strong enough that the people wouldn't resist. But I don't think the Umpalumpians are the main problem. Given time their ruse will collapse and society will step in to resume its natural order, unless that is, whoever conjured that glamoury invasion, whoever is presumably the master mind, well, unless they step in. Because that's where the real power is located."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Who could it be?" Rover asked. "And what do they want?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "I doubt the Umpalumpians would know," I replied. "So for now it looks like all we can do is wait and see what happens."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "Meanwhile," Brak said with a big grin, "we needa go swimming."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "It's what we came for, eh Rover?" I said with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span> "That's right," he replied, "and I got us permission, so let's go!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p> </p><p><span>Next: Part 2 The real bad guy, probably.</span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/72596012023-08-19T08:57:59-07:002023-08-19T08:57:59-07:00Piffle - By Rosy<p><span> Piffle is a creative force that has existed in Elvenstead for hundreds and hundreds of years. It started as a vocal group of elves, faeries, apes and more, with witches drumming accompaniment while the local fauna hummed and buzzed and barked in time. A piffle concert was a wonder to behold and more so to attend.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> That tradition has endured to this very day, evolving into an ultra-modern boogie-woogy band with electric guitars and speakers and lots of strange devices.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Elven Pretsal, is their famous hound-dog crooner, Gladiola Night is a yodeler who plays boogie bass, Jingle Stargazer plays drums, and Erk Clapper plays rock and roll guitar. Together they are Piffle.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Here is Piffle with Elven singing their greatest hit, Them Hound-Dog Blues.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Wale I'ma just a hound-dog, a howlin' all the time,</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>I like to do my roamin', I like to do my rhyme.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Oh, woof woof, wooo! woof woof, wooo!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>I was born in a doghouse, learned to bark and bay.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>No one ever said, hey good dog, I never been that way.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Oh, woof woof, wooo! Woofa, barka, way -yay!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Never tried that way of seeing things, never thought about that look</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>when things went cattywampus twas always by my book.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Woof, woof, wooo! Woof, woof, wooo!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span> I'ma Hound-dog, and my puppies are too!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span> My human done left me, I'ma hound-dog blue!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span> Wooo wooo wooo woofa woofa woo!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Wooo wooo wooo woofa woofa woo-hoo!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Wale I'ma just a hound-dog, a howlin' all the time,</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>I like to do my roamin', I like to do my rhyme.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Oh, woof woof, wooo! woof woof, wooo!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Wale I'ma just a hound-dog, awoof awoof wooo!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>I'm a howlin all the time, awoof awoof wooo!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Hound-dog, hound-dog awooo hooo hooo-oo!</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> The crowd cheers and cheers, trying to get closer, trying to touch the stars, until finally an amplified voice announces, "Elven has left the building."</span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/72596002023-08-19T08:57:35-07:002023-08-19T08:57:36-07:00Choices - By Rosy<p><span> The flight was bumpy largely because it never left the ground. Something went wrong but apparently the pilot decided to just go for it. Now they were barreling down Interstate 3 at around a hundred kilometers per hour. Stanley, who had booked the flight to save time, was amazed and annoyed. He gazed out his first-class window at the scenery rolling by.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "I'm not saving any time at all this way" he muttered to himself.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Huh?" said the man sitting next to him in the aisle seat, looking up from his magazine. "Do you mean this route? I couldn't agree more. Any nitwit can see that Interstate 9 woulda been a lot quicker."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "No," Stanley replied, "I mean not flying! Being on the Interstate at all!" He was angry about it.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Oh. That. Well, I guess you don't travel much. There're very few actual flights these days due to the wing loss."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Wing loss?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Yeah, you remember when we went under that overpass? Right after we got on the freeway?" Stanley nodded mutely. "And that big sound, like a wreck or something?" Stanley remembered that alright. He'd thought that the take-off had failed and they were crashing into the end of the runway. He'd been terrified but the plane just kept on rolling calmly along so he'd settled back wondering what the hell, you know? Now, realizing that the plane was taking the highway instead of flying, he was getting angry.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Well that big sound," the man continued, "was the wings getting torn off by the big pillars on the sides while the plane's top scraped the bottom of the overpass. Saves the pilots from ever having to actually fly. Very few planes left that can actually fly anymore."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "What? Why would they do that?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Fear. Surely, you've felt the fear that has overtaken us?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> He had. It was why he was flying, well, motoring home. He'd had such a sense of dread and fear that he canceled his business trip and immediately booked the flight home. He nodded slowly.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Well, the government is shooting down UFOs, which is anything that flies that they aren't 100% sure about. They're scared too, just like we all are." He leaned back and smiled. "For me the planes are way more comfortable than the buses." </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Stanley, somewhat mollified, wondered what was causing the fear. He hadn't realized that it was so all pervasive, that everyone felt it, and he began wondering why. What was going on?</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Politics came to mind. A big election was coming up and there was one guy said he could fix things, that he and only he could do what needed doing so that the fear would go away. With his constant anxiety Stanley couldn't decide, couldn't even think. Things were wrong, felt wrong anyway, and this guy said it'll just get worse if he's not in charge. So if he can make the fear go away, well that sure sounded good.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Yet somehow, things did not quite make sense and he found himself thinking what if it was actually the election itself that was generating these waves of fear and anxiety? Then he'd lose the thought. He mentally shrugged, and, with a determined look, he settled back for the ride. He didn't know much about politics but he now knew something he could do, an easy thing, to help stop the fear and knowing that was quite comforting.</span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/72424112023-07-15T08:21:28-07:002023-07-15T08:21:28-07:00The Copycat - By Rosy<p><span> "You're a Copycat," I said to the Copycat, in a half statement, half question sort of way.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "I know. I'm good at it," he replied, stretching out on his sofa. His massive copying equipment was spread out around the room midst flashing lights, mysterious buzzes and occasional dings along with cat toys, scratching poles and catnip. "So, you want something copied or you just visiting?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Rover and I stood in his short foyer, expecting, well, something more businesslike, I think. Not sure. In any case I did not expect this room. There was a bowl of cream on a small table by his couch where he sat watching us with a wry smile beneath heavy-lidded eyes. He seemed to sneer just the tiniest when he looked at Rover. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Well uh, Copycat," I stuttered, "We uh, we need something copied."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> He sat up. "Well then, have a seat." He nodded at some chairs we hadn't noticed, standing in the foyer like we were. We'd neither one of us been to a Copycat before and were a little nervous.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We cautiously peered inside. I'm Captain Rosy of the All-Vehicle Rivitir and Rover's our navigator. Brak's the pilot and Jant, who runs some complicated devices, are the rest of the crew waiting back in the Rivitir. These then are the voyages of the AV Rivitir. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We're in the office of a Copycat. After we sat down an 11:11BS service bot, like our own Ellim, brought us some tea. The Copycat perched on the arm of his sofa and lapped some cream while we sipped.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Nice day, huh?" he said, then, before either of us could respond, he asked, “So what you want copied?" </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Oh, well, we need a copy of our All-Vehicle docking station to put on Yudonke," I told him. Yudonke is an alternate earth that we enjoy visiting. Go there a lot in fact, so the need for another All-Vehicle docking station was becoming more obvious. Thing is, an All-Vehicle docking station is unique to its All-Vehicle, which are themselves unique since there are only four in existence, each one hand-made by my dad, grandmother, uncle and aunt in my dad's garage. There's nothing like an All-Vehicle docking station anywhere on earth or on any of the alternate earth's we know about. Building another from scratch would take years if it was even possible, requiring a massive blending of magic and technology as well as the machining of many precision tools and on and on. Much easier to just make a copy, so here we were. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "An All-Vehicle docking station, is it?" the Copycat asked, thoughtfully. "Well, well, I've heard of these All-Vehicles. You aren't the notorious Captain Rosy, are you?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> I was shocked speechless. Rover leaned in toward the Copycat, "Yeah that's her. What'd ya hear?" he whispered.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> The Copycat looked at me. "Call your dog off, Captain," he said, calmly. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Rover jerked back. "Sorry," he huffed, sipping his tea.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "So I'll need to see the docking station to be copied as well as where the copy is to be placed," the Copycat stated in business like tones.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Yes, yes, of course," I said with relief. "When would be convenient for you?" I asked.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> He opened a log book on the table by his bowl of cream and spent a while flipping through it, checking here and there. Finally he looked up. "Right now is open. Does that work for you?" </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Nonplussed, I answered, "Well, uh yes, I mean it does, I think, uh Rover? Does right now work?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> He looked at me with wide eyes. "Yeah, I guess. I mean I thought we were going to the Little Lost Corkers this weekend, but yeah, okay this is important. Be nice to have a docking station there on Yudonke."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Sure would," I stated confidently.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> The Copycat switched off the lights and grabbed a fully packed suitcase from under the couch and away we went.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "My name's Cuthbert but people just call me Al," he told us as we boarded the Rivitir.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Everyone, this is Al," I announced inside. "I'm Captain uh, er I'm the Captain and that's Rover. He gave Rover a curt nod. "Up there driving is Brak." Brak smiled and waved. "And that's Jant," I finished, pointing to Jant who quickly sat up and smiled having been stretched out on our couch.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Looks good," Al said. "Let's get going."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We went first to our docking station at Lillow's Farm where Al used his special, high-technomagic scanner to send images to his massive copying equipment in his, well, office. Then we headed for Yudonke. Since the Rivitir has the advanced Hypergosh Engine with an Ogolly Overdrive we got there in just over a day. The Bradco Interdimensional Transport modules take about that long, maybe quicker, but are pretty darn expensive.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We took Al to Pert Harber, a town we liked on the shore of Lake Bigwata. I'd purchased some land there earlier with this very project in mind so we went there next. After Al scanned the site and did a few other odd things, we retired to the Rivitir as it was getting late. Brak and Rover wanted to go drink Grog Bombs and get into fights in the dockside saloons but I had to say no, not this time. I am the Captain after all.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Why not Captain?" Al asked, getting ready to go out. "That's where I'm going." I had to relent.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Later when they returned, Jant and I watched in amazement as they woohoo'd, high-fived and sang drunken songs until they passed out.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "At least Al and Rover are getting along," I said, dubiously.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Two more days and we had our copy docking station fully installed. Al is a first class Copycat and we've written a glowing recommendation. Now, off to Yudonke and those Little Lost Corkers!</span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/72308672023-06-22T16:02:11-07:002023-06-22T16:02:11-07:00The Little Lost Corkers - By Rosy<p><span> The AV Rivitir has traveled through many environs and dimensions, even to outer space, but the traveling I like best is the easy meandering down the Great Yudonke River on the alternate earth, Yudonke. The part we're on now is a lake so big it ought to be called an ocean, except it’s got one input on one end and one output on the other, both being the Great Yudonke River so that technically it is a river. But the locals have agreed that it is more than a river and are okay with calling it a lake. Never an ocean because everyone knows that Yudonke has no oceans. Common knowledge. But lake, well, okay.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Lake Bigwata is what it’s called and it's huge, taking three weeks to cross. Way out in the middle are a string of islands called the Little Lost Corkers, which are not little or lost or cork. They are islands though. The largest is East Cork, then Fobble, which is where the capital Wataspot is located. We are headed to Wataspot because we've heard wonderful things about it, but I don't recall what all. Good things. Rover says they grow coconuts and pineapples there, on large estates. Bananas too. So that's good. Rover is our navigator so he'd know about this stuff. Brak is our pilot and Jant is our communications specialist. I'm Captain Rosy and these are the voyages of the All Vehicle Rivitir. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Captain's Log. Yudonke date: right now, this year. The vast ocean, er, lake is calm today, blue skies and some fluffy white clouds overhead. The Rivitir has reconfigured herself into a luxury yacht with sails which we are currently employing. We're two days out of Pert Harber, a lovely town on the banks of the Great Yudonke where it enters Lake Bigwata. It is a major port because of its location and the fact that it has a large, calm harbor. Excellent restaurants and dockside saloons make Pert Harber a must stop location when floating the Great Yudonke River.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We did and had a lovely stopover in Pert Harber. While Jant and I visited museums and parks, Brak and Rover got into fights in the saloons. They loved it, or at least claimed to. Their modus operandi was to belly up to the bar and order double shots of Grog Bomb, a local drink with high levels of toxicity, and gulp them down. Then they'd sit and glare at everyone who were also sitting and glaring at everyone. The glare was so bright that many wore dark glasses with UV filters.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Nursing their second drink Rover would suddenly run over and bite someone in the foot. Completely unexpected, except for Brak who was sort of used to it. The person getting bit was usually too intoxicated and dazed to get what was happening at first, except they could feel the pain. That came through pretty quickly, albeit numbed and they could see the dog doing it. Then Rover would return to his seat and resume sipping the grog. The bitee would stagger to his feet and limp over to confront Rover, with fisticuffs soon to follow. Brak eagerly joined in as did all the other patrons because that was the nature of Grog Bomb. All the saloons had padded walls and bolted down tables. Saloon fighting in Pert Harber is famous throughout the entire length of the Great Yudonke, which is billions of kilometers long. Jant and I didn't get it, but Rover and Brak jumped right in, returning both nights covered with bruises and scratches, laughing, woohooing and high-fiving each other until they collapsed. They did this twice before having enough of it and we set sail shortly after.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Brak set Clarabelle, our automatic pilot, a course and left her to it while we all lounged on the spacious deck, enjoying the salt air and sipping iced teas that Ellim, our 11:11BS service bot, would bring us. It is a beautiful day for sailing, balmy conditions as we are near the equator, and there's a joyful, good to be alive feeling in the air. I know there have been terrible storms in these waters and we keep a watchful eye but in fact, this moment is perfect. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Rover tells us we are still five days from the islands but with our idyllic situation we were unconcerned. I wanted to do some reading and I grabbed a book from the top of my stack, Brak was watching videos or working on his tan with his sister Jant on the deck with me. I was under an umbrella, of course, having no desire to become tanned. Rover was roaming about doing this or that or stretched out on a deck chair, unconcerned with tanning or burning, just enjoying the heat of the sun.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> The next morning as dawn's golden rays caressed us, we awoke to another fine day in paradise. I was napping lightly after breakfast when Rover came to wake me.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Captain!" he yelled from a meter away. "Captain, wake up! You needa see this," now speaking loudly in my face. I was groggy and at first, I thought I was dreaming. Now he was shaking me, "Captain! Wake up!"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Huh?" I said, completely disoriented.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Captain, you gotta come see this!" </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> I looked around and it all came back to me. I stood, shakily, and followed Rover to where the others were on the rail looking into the distance at a very dark mass of clouds moving our way. Ellim was already packing the tables and chairs away. You could see lightning flashes below the clouds in what was, even from here, discernible as heavy rain. I was shocked at how quickly it was moving.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Brak!" I yelled, although it was calm and sunny here. The sudden drop in barometric pressure had us all giddy. "Brak, we needa get the sails down and the mast folded and secured pronto. Rover, help him with that would ya? Jant, how's the radar look?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "It's a big one Captain, and it's coming fast," she yelled from inside. I watched the storm with concern even though we'd always be safe no matter what being in an All-Vehicle like the Rivitir.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "The mast is secure Captain," Brak reported.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Good job!" I answered. "Put Clarabelle to keeping us pointed into the waves and let's get inside to enjoy this storm!"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Aye-aye Captain," he replied, ducking inside with Rover right behind. Taking a quick glance at the approaching storm, now ominous and looming, I followed. Already it was windy and the Rivitir rocked back and forth. We all sat in the front by the big window and belted ourselves in. Ellim, who was nearly impossible to topple, brought us drinks in sippy cups that fit snugly in special holders attached to our chairs. He also brought popcorn and other light snacks as we sat transfixed, watching the approaching storm. As Jant said, it was a big one and we were soon engulfed by it. Waves three times higher than the Rivitir's length came at us from several different directions, but Clarabelle, using her radar and other advanced features, easily rode us through. The storm was a genuine thrill, lasting three whole days, with near constant lightning, howling winds and a torrential, unrelenting downpour that thrilled us, each and every one, even while we slept. It also put us millions of kilometers off course. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Rover looked at me curiously. "We're in uncharted water," he reported.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Huh?" I answered. "What do you mean, uncharted?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Our current coordinates are not on the map, Captain. It just says, uncharted. Apparently, no one's ever been here before."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Wait, how is that possible?"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Everyone keeps to the primary lanes, from the Great Yudonke straight across to the Little Lost Corkers then straight on to the Great Yudonke again and on you go. Usually."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "No one's ever gotten blown off course before?" I asked, amazed at what I was hearing.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Never this far, Ma'am," Rover said, scowling at the map.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "This is unexplored water?" I was having trouble with the concept. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Yes, Ma'am, looks like it. But if we keep going west, we should come to the lake shore and we can follow that down and back to the Yudonke."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "Okay then, let's do it," I commanded, using my Captain voice. Everyone jumped to comply.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We were soon sailing westward, again in beautiful weather. After four days we came to an island. I could tell even before we landed it wasn't a Corker. A ne'er-do-well named Gilligan greeted us and took us to his Captain, called Skipper. There was a movie star, a millionaire and his wife, a professor, and a fair maiden on the island, all waiting to be rescued. They were shipwrecked or something. The whole thing sounded pretty implausible to me and I could see the others nodding and saying uh-huh, but I perked up when they said they'd been on a three hour tour. This cheered me up because that meant that the mainland wasn't too far away. We left the next morning after wishing them the best of luck. We offered to carry them to the mainland but they declined, saying their contract wasn't up yet, whatever that means.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "I'll tell you what that means," the millionaire spoke up. "It means cash! Cold hard cash, people. Moolah and lots of it!"</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> "It's a franchise, you see," the professor explained. "As long as we stay here, we're raking in the big bucks."</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> I didn't understand any of it so I nodded, saying uh-huh like the others were doing.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> When we got to the mainland, we stopped at a lakeside village for supper. We like to eat out once in a while and it was nice. We were surprised to see the Skipper and Gilligan on the TV. Imagine getting paid to hang out on an island. We all shook our heads. Two days later we were back on the Great Yudonke, making a southwesterly course. We felt bad about missing the Little Lost Corkers, especially after all the great things we'd heard about them. Maybe we'll cruise upriver coming back and we can try them again. </span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/72122802023-05-19T14:54:06-07:002023-05-19T14:54:06-07:00The Dmitri Saga - By Rosy<p style="text-align:center;"><span>Part 1 - Oh, What A Day</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Someone was crying out for help but no one could hear them as they were fifty-four thousand light years from earth. At least that's what Dmitri Rivitir was thinking as he veered his All-Vehicle toward the signal. When he arrived at the source, he was alarmed to find the signal emanating from inside a giant hostile alien spaceship.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> </span><i><span>Ding!</span></i><span> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> There it was again. He studied his screen's new message. The word 'Help!' was emblazoned across it, just like before. Simple enough message, he thought, except there were quite a few details left out. He looked at the enormous alien spaceship in the distance with dismay. It was definitely the source of the distress signals and he knew they were watching him.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Just then the radio crackled to life. “What do you want?” a stern voice demanded.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Oh, hello there,” Dmitri began. “I was just cruising by and, well, I got a call for help from inside your ship.” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “That's impossible!” the radio voice shrieked.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> </span><i><span>Ding!</span></i><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Another message. Dmitri looked over at his screen. The message, 'No, it's possible. Listen: Help!' appeared. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Well,” Dmitri said over the radio, “it seems that it is possible because I just got another distress signal from inside your enormous spaceship.” He put his All-Vehicle on high alert.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “That's impossible!” the radio voice shrieked. Then, seemingly becoming more agitated, it continued, louder, “This gotta stop! Bomb 'em! Bomb 'em!”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Immediately some torpedo-like bombs came zooming out of the huge spaceship. Dmitri turned his All-Vehicle around and engaged the Bradco Hypergosh Engines and the Ogolly Overdrive and instantly disappeared. It was like magic. He cruised a couple of planets away hanging around for a while until he could figure this out.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Meanwhile, the hostile aliens said, “Zounds! Foiled again!” when they realized he was instantly beyond their reach. What they did not realize or expect and, in fact, had made no plans for, was the torpedo bombs getting confused and coming back. Everyone bailed out of that hostile alien spaceship quick and fast, just in the nick of time for some, before the torpedoes blew it to smithereens.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> One of the alien escape pods signaled to Dmitri. “Thanks a bunch, you saved me.” All the others said rude things.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Dmitri resumed his journey home, a mere fifty-four thousand light years away. Probably take a week or so he figured, engaging the Ogolly Overdrive, so he settled back, relaxing into the journey. What a day, he thought, wondering if things were going to be okay.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Meanwhile, fifty-four thousand light years away, aboard another alien spaceship, the blown up spaceship's best friend, in fact, the captain pondered the enormous explosion where his friend's ship had been as his crew gathered up the escape pods. All were accounted for except the prisoner, who inexplicably escaped.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> When the alien scientists determined that the perpetrator was now an unbelievable fifty-four thousand light years away, a journey of several lifetimes given their current technology, they, amid great gnashing of teeth and wringing of hands, gave up the hunt. The scoundrel was forever beyond their grasp. Forever that is, until one fine day, a salesperson from Bradco Inc., the manufacturers of the Hypergosh Engine with the Ogolly Overdrive, came knocking at their door. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Part 2 - Happily Ever After</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> The Great Yudonke River is the only river on earth. The earth known as Yudonke, that is, and it flows north to south on Yudonke three and a half, some say four, times spiraling southward to the south pole. This mighty river seems at times to be an ocean, at times a lake and at times a normal large river. There are even shallow stretches where boats can go aground, and areas of rapids, even white water can appear, but there are no waterfalls. When the Great Yudonke gets to the south pole it disappears into the ground somehow then somehow reappears at the north pole to flow south again</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> This south pole to north pole waterway connection is difficult to understand and I, for one, have given up the effort. It's a mystery. And there are many people who agree with me. So many, in fact, that it has a name, the South to North Mystery. It even has a church, the Divine Flonorth, which attributes the passage of the mighty river's waters from south to north, apparently through the center of the earth, to divine beings called the Flotsim. The main Flot, the singular of Flotsim, is a goddess called Flo. Flo does the trick, at least for believers. For me, not so much, although I cannot offer a better explanation.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> In any case we, the crew of the All-Vehicle Rivitir, are again floating the Great Yudonke, heading inexorably south. I am Captain Rosy and Rover is my number two and navigator. Brak is our ace-pilot and Jant is our ace-machine operator. All kinds of machines here too, like radar, radio, TV, and other secret devices, so it's good to have an expert like Jant on board.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> The Rivitir is configured as a paddle-wheeled river boat with two decks this time, a shape we have found to be best for river adventures like this. We are currently splashing our way across a portion of the Great Yudonke that resembles a large lake. We've been here about an hour so far, floating on the river since arriving via Rover's interdimensional manipulations, another thing I don't understand.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We're keeping to the north shore as the south shore disappears from view every so often in the distance. That shore's ice laden flow is constrained by a long reef that runs down the center of the lake called the Dam Stopgap. Our paddlewheels keep us moving at a fair pace using our hypergosh engine and the weather has been nice, given our still quite northern location. This lake-like stretch of the river is called Meltwater for it is here that the chunks of ice that come down the Great Yudonke from the frozen far north slow down and melt before continuing on as water in the Great Yudonke River.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Even though we are about an eighth of its length from the north pole we are in what are, for all practical purposes, the headwaters of the Yudonke. There are a lot of craft entering the water from docks, piers, and low places along the lake shore as well as from the Dam Stopgap. Several are keeping apace of us. There's certainly lots of room even though this icy northern passage is not nearly as wide as the southern lake with its icebergs and chunks of ice.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Our bridge is located on the second floor in the front of the Rivitir, and there are just a few meters of deck extending before it. The first floor is our living room with big picture windows in the front and sides. Up here though, the windows are all bridge. We're assembled here as it's way cool, plus there's comfortable couches and an excellent view. Brak is sitting in a highchair behind the big steering wheel with his hand resting on the wheel, his stalwart gaze focused ahead, making corrections whenever he thought necessary. Jant and I are both in recliners watching the view while Rover is roving somewhere, doing this and that.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Earlier I mentioned a long narrow reef that crosses the lake called the Dam Stopgap which keeps the ice in the southern, warmer part of the lake to melt. It has lots of little islands on it. Whenever an island has a dry spot that is big enough there are houses, hotels, resorts, and even small villages. But as eclectic as these islands are we were nonetheless taken aback by the sight of a large flying saucer sitting on a long island that had been flattened and paved for aerial traffic. This is the first time we'd seen aliens here on Yudonke and Brak slowed the Rivitir down. There were a bunch of docks where people could park when flying and we pulled into one.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “I guess we're going to go investigate something?” I asked Rover, who had put on his detective hat.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Yes, ma'am,” he answered. “We got reason to believe that these newly arrived aliens are 'people of interest' in the case of your missing uncle.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Oh,” I said. My uncle Dmitri has disappeared after a three week cruise back from fifty-four thousand light years away. He disappeared suspiciously close to the time these aliens arrived, which was just before Dmitri did, after their having just recently acquired hypergosh engines themselves. We had been beyond their ken before they got the engines as they are fifty-four thousand light-years away. Now, if they engage the Ogolly Overdrive, it's about three hours. Uncle Dmitri liked to cruise and had stretched his trip into a few weeks so the aliens he'd encountered were already here. What we'd heard was that Uncle Dmitri was somehow involved in the explosion of one of their so-called Peacemaker Patrols. The patrol had just captured one of the protesters who subsequently escaped when the torpedoes they'd shot at 'an unknown person of interest' had inexplicably turned around and destroyed the patrol instead. Now they're here and Uncle Dmitri is missing. Coincidence? Rover, who is an actual detective, working with such luminaries as Inspector Gee and Sgt Goat, doesn't think so. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We followed Rover to the flying saucer where he rapped on the door. The alien who answered was clearly shocked to see us and backed up.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Hello,” I said, speaking up since I was the Captain after all. “I'm Captain Rosy Rivitir and these . . .” The alien shrieked and went running down a long passage. We all entered before the door could automatically close.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Another alien appeared in the hallway and came walking toward us. “Hello,” it said as it approached.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Hello,” I answered. “I'm Rosy Rivitir . . .” I began. The alien stopped and stared at me. Then it backed up a step.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Rivitir,” it whispered. “We don't know anything about Dmitri!” it shouted. “In fact, we've never even heard of him!”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Dmitri?” I asked.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Yeah, you know. That fellow that disappeared two days ago, twelve noon local time.” It scowled and spit on the ground. “He's a Rivitir too, that's all. You made me think of him.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Oh,” I said.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “So, where'd you stash him at?” Rover barked, using his toughest tough guy voice.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Oh, yeah?” the alien jeered. I could see he was wearing a six shooter when he casually pulled his jacket back. “Wale, he ent here. He ent in the back room by the kitchen, the one with the locking door and he ent even on this here ship, at all,” he blustered, spreading his legs into a wide shooter's stance.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Oh, okay,” Rover said, nodding agreement. “Just thought he might be here.” He nodded imperceptibly at Brak.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Mind if I use your restroom?” Brak asked as he stepped beside the alien, who was gaping at Rover.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “We don't have . . . wait! What?” the alien sputtered at Brak's retreating form.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Is that room locked now?” Brak asked loudly.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Yes, of course it is, that Rivitir fellow . . .” He stopped, looking at me with alarm.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Where's the key?” I growled. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “I don't have it, and if I did, I sure wouldn't put it on my key ring attached to my belt,” he snapped, with a steely gaze. I saw the key ring on the opposite side from the six shooter just as Brak, sneaking up from behind, grabbed them both.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> The alien spun around, “Put them back you darn varmint!” it screamed. I wonder where it learned to talk. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Sure will, soon as I get Dmitri from out of your foul dungeon,” Brak cried out, midst the lofty tones of heroic music. Then he dashed down the hallway.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “You darn aliens can't just come and grab somebody,” Rover barked.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “But he made us blow up our own spaceship,” the alien yelped.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “How'd he do that?” Rover asked.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “By being so nosy, then being so dang fast,” the alien growled.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “He was pokin' around?”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Sure was. Claimed to be getting a help signal from our prisoner.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “And . . .?”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “And we blasted him out of existence, 'cept he weren't there, the wily rascal, because of his durn blasted hypergosh engine. Then our own torpedoes turned against us and came back!”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “That musta been horrifying!” Jant squealed.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “It were ma'am. And on top of it all, our dang prisoner escaped.” </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “So you came and got a new prisoner,” Rover stated.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Exackly,”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “Well, it's no good. You can't do it so go home. It was your own foolishness that caused you to shoot at a complete stranger so just write off the patrol ship to defense learning and move on.”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “But . . .”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> “No buts, you heard me,” Rover barked.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> Just then Brak returned with a dazed and confused Uncle Dmitri.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span> We returned to the Rivitir where Dmitri spent a week with us recuperating, rolling on the Great Yudonke River before returning to his own Rivitir. The aliens decided not to be hostile anymore since they just couldn't win, and returned, using the three hour overdrive, to their planet, fifty-four thousand light years away, to live in peace happily ever after.</span><o:p></o:p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/71883612023-04-12T09:32:05-07:002023-04-12T09:32:06-07:00Here and There Some More - By Rosy<p><span> </span><i><span>Her poetry is about showing that the pathos of life can be seen beautifully. Pain, or bad times ought not to define a life, rather they should be seen as bumps in the road and it is, in fact, the journey itself that is beautiful.</span></i><p></p></p><p><span> She settles comfortably with her word machine. She feels a little sad that she doesn't spend more time with her husband, something he claims is absolutely fine, love you, I'm fine, he says with a sincere smile. He believes it too, for her sake. He says that his time is well spent and she has cause to believe him, not that either would lie to the other, not really. Perhaps she just wants to spend more time with him but being addicted to her incessant writing does not.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Outside it is rainy, a common enough event for this time of year in her clime. Sometimes she'll gaze into the mist, low hanging clouds, and feel herself adrift in a world of gray, isolated and eerily silent. She hears the flapping of wings and wonders if they are her own or if someone else is flying nearby. She turns her head and Tonker is smiling at her, flying easily by her side.</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>I didn't know you could fly!</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> He seems absolutely thrilled and does a loop the loop.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Show off,” I tell him, maintaining my own sensible stride. He matches my flight quietly.</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>So, uh, how'd I do in the adventure?</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> “You were fine,” I tell him, enthralled by the mists and sparkling lights we are passing through. Rainbows inside of clouds! and a magnificent deep blue sky above, then I swoop down to the swollen belly where the first to fall, those unique sparkling little white flakes that are soon melting to rain, rain glorious rain, sweeping the city in waves that are quick and powerful, then quickly to misty, and maybe some calm, then on she comes again! I feel heroic and imagine a Valkyrie riding here.</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>Well, if you don't mind, ma'am,</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Huh?” That's not a Valkyrie, that's a pteranodon! I'm momentarily nonplussed. “Tonker?” I say as my word machine comes into view.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Well, now, that's interesting, she thinks. That's twice this pteranodon has come visiting. Tonker something something thwak, as she recalled. Hmmm. She looks outside and is surprised to see that the clouds have turned orange in the light of the late afternoon sun. She felt a twinge of anxiety. They did have a rather ominous cast. Her husband looks up and she goes to sit with him.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Have you been thinking about dinosaurs lately?” she asks him.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Hmm, no. Should I be?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “No, it's just that they've been on my mind of late.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Well, is that a bad thing?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “No, I suppose not.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> He glances out the window and his eyes widen. “Wow! Wouldja lookit that big old bird!”</span><p></p></p><p><span> Of course, it's the pteranodon, Tonker something. She watches him circle around and see that he's looking back at her.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Dang, that guy's big and he's coming right at us!” her husband yelps, jumping up and pulling her away from the window. The pteronodon flies at them then at the last moment swoops up and over, seemingly brushing against the tile roof above them.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I knew he'd do that,” she announced grimly, “and I'm putting a stop to it.” She turned and grabbing her coat told her husband she'd be right back.</span><p></p></p><p><span> He looks at her with concern. “Do you know this guy?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah, he worked for me in a couple stories. I think he's getting out of hand, I dunno, we'll see.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Is it a dinosaur?” he asks as she reached the elevator.</span><p></p></p><p><span> She stops. “Technically yes. He's a pteranodon, an advanced, he tells me, flying dinosaur that went extinct sixty-five million years ago.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Is it dangerous?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I dunno. It shouldn't be here, it's impossible for it to be here. Is it dangerous? I dunno. I guess I'll find out.” She enters the elevator and goes down.</span><p></p></p><p><span> The pteranodon is on the grassy patch by the old church but he is in the shadows, clearly trying to hide.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Tonker?” she asks, approaching. “Tonker, what are you doing here?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> He looks at her with wide, terrified eyes, “I'm real,” he sputters.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “What?” she exclaims.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I'm real. Touch me. I'm not talking telepathically, I'm here, right here in the flesh.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> Slowly she reached out and touched his scaly reptilian skin, noticing the iridescent shimmering that seemed gray from a distance. “You're beautiful,” she murmurs, seeing the colors of creation before her.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah, well thanks, you're pretty good yourself. Thing is, there's people chasing me.” That was when she became conscious of nearby helicopter racket that seemed to be getting louder.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “C'mon,” she yelped, and hustled him into their lobby, shutting the door behind. The first thing they saw was her husband, standing by the elevator watching. She looked at him. “Uh, honey, this is Tonker.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Oh! Uh, hello, uh, Tonker. Imaginary creature, are we?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yessir, supposed to be anyway. I worked in a couple of your wife's stories.” He beamed proudly as a helicopter passed thunderously overhead.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “So, how did this happen?” her husband asked. She leaned in the hear better.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I dunno,” Tonker began, “but it was sort of like how in the story, you know, where I seeped slowly back out of the Perfect Place. Bit by bit.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Didn't that take thousands, possibly millions of years?” she asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Tonker looked worried. “Yeah, near as I could tell. But for some reason this time the changing went a lot faster. I was in a great swampy place and somehow the earth just sort of rose up, rolling up it seemed like, and popped me out.” He furrowed his brow in thought. “I wonder if that time before, coming out of the Perfect Place like I did, well, I wonder if that time wasn't really quick too? No way to know though, is there?” She could only shake her head.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Tonker became their downstairs tenant. Hiding until the furor of fear and searching died down, he began going out at night to fly and fish the nearby river. They managed to make him a serviceable nest from the couch and its cushions plus a couple blankets. They brought a couple chairs down and they started spending time with him. In the evenings she would get into conversations with him, especially about the nature of reality, a subject that fascinated them both.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “So we agree that nothing is the ultimate nature of reality?” Tonker stated one evening. </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yes, that's right,” she agreed. “Thing is, where do we go from there?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Time,” he said, concentrating. “The vehicle that takes us from nothing to something is time. Tons and tons of time.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Inconceivable time,” she murmurs.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yet time is clearly the vehicle of transmission. Now the question is, what started time going? In nothingness?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> They tossed these concepts around for the joy of it but also to try and figure out what was going on. As time wore on it became increasingly a matter of understanding his situation and trying to get at what happened and maybe somehow undoing it. Maybe. It was clear though that their first floor lobby, while private, was not a permanent solution. He'd hidden well enough when the coppers came asking them did they see anything strange, any strange birds, big birds, in the area lately?</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Of course we saw it,” she told them. “Our home has a fabulous view, but the last time we saw it it was outracing the helicopters going thataway, seems like.” She pointed to the west, an arbitrary direction from her perspective but pertinent information from theirs, the latest theory being that it, the pteranodon, had flown out to sea.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I think time has always existed, that there were just long periods when it didn't know it existed,” Tonker posited one morning.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Time didn't know it existed?” she asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “That's right. Nothing to measure it by. It wasn't until matter came along that time realized its own existence.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah, okay, that makes sense. So would consciousness be the next realization after that?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I expect so, given enough time. And with that realization consciousness probably began trying to put the universe in order, like we try to do to this very day, put things in order, categorize them, arrange them, rearrange them. Consciousness must have been doing that when, almost inadvertently, life was created, supposedly the highest order, the highest arrangement. First an atom, then the whole shebang.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Would you call that consciousness god?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Good heavens no, why would you even ask that?” He paused, considering. “I know there are those who do, perhaps to categorize this energy, put it in some kind of order to try and comprehend it, while glossing over the true knowledge that comes from emptiness. They personify the life force of the universe as an entity, something which is, in my mind, much too restricting. They definitely seem to be missing the nothingness boat, among other things.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah, I pretty much agree,” I told him. “That ordering thing almost seems like a compulsion of some sort,” she noted. “Makes you wonder why that drive for order appears to be inherent in consciousness?” </span><p></p></p><p><span> He looked thoughtful. “Could be survival, you know like how it first came into being from the repetitions. Perhaps it was set in place by that first torque wave somewhere inside the infinite nothing, a quick flicker of nothing in nothing, that pulsed again, then again, then into a constant repetition that, well, that could, when you add time, and I mean tons and tons of time, lead to a big bang, you could say.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> She nodded agreement, then added with a smile, “The repetitions of waves of nothing inside of nothing wanted to continue, to survive. But I think it still took another inconceivable amount of time after life appeared for consciousness to become intelligent.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I think that's a work in progress,” he finished. </span><p></p></p><p><span> During the days when Tonker was sleeping, she and her husband would frequently stroll, sometimes talking about these same sorts of things. They unconsciously understood that their own, unique perhaps, realizations would serve them well spiritually and they were content. </span><p></p></p><p><span> On a day that whispered of the spring to come while yet firmly in winter's embrace they walked down to the river, the river that Tonker assured them had ample fish for his needs. He told them too that there was a grass that grew along the banks further upstream that he found to be tasty and nutritious as well, along with some of the smaller bushes here and there. The river is fairly large and easy going. Paddle-wheeled riverboats, barges, yachts, houseboats and all manner of craft ply these waters. Rosy sits on a bench with her husband beside her in his wheeled chair, to watch. They both loved watching the river traffic.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Generally speaking the river is wide and deep with a slow moving current so that boating is fairly easy, but there are places where it is too broad and the shallows can become treacherous while the deeper channels, narrow and winding, are constantly changing. There is one such place coming up and Brak stays in the wheelhouse, showing Clarabelle the secret ins and outs of navigating through the more treacherous parts of the great Yudonke River. He does have a device that shows the best route and he's trying to follow it without appearing to rely on it. Clarabelle, being a computer program, secretly wished that Brak would rely on the device more. We've come aground a couple times but nothing too serious. Brak keeps long poles on both sides down on the first deck which he uses to push and prod the Rivitir, now configured as a three deck paddle-wheeler, free to continue on.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Brak says this is pretty common for everyone who comes through these shallows, this getting stuck here and there. It was no big deal, he told us, but a few don't make it, as was attested to by the occasional wreckage we passed of boats firmly and irrevocably mired in the muck with little left showing. It appears that if a boat gets stuck for too long the river just sort of sucks it in and covers it up. In a strong current this could likely happen quickly. There were no three deck paddle-wheel wrecks that I could see though, and that was reassuring despite the Rivitir's ability to change and fly away should something bad start to happen.</span><p></p></p><p><span> I rely on Brak to steer us through and sit in a reclining deck chair on the spacious upper deck, behind the wheelhouse. Jant is with me and we are sipping iced teas that Ellim has brought us. We are sitting at one of the round, umbrella-covered tables scattered here and there around the deck. Rover is leaning against the rail, watching the shore and Brak's tribulations, running from the wheelhouse to the first deck and back. Sometimes he crosses to the other side to watch and he has even been able to warn us of impending groundings so that we don't spill our drinks when the boat shudders and jerks to a halt, then wobbles as Brak pushes and prods it free, yelling commands up at Clarabelle from down below. It was ridiculous of him not to use the shipboard intercom to communicate with Clarabelle from the first deck but, well, standing there jabbing and prodding with his long pole and yelling commands was heroic. No question. There was even heroic music, which always impresses me. I sent a photograph to the Heroes Я Us collective in Elvenstead to post on their graduates of distinction board.</span><p></p></p><p><span> We'd stopped at Waterlog, a city that we had freed from bondage, Dr. Snarkey bondage to be precise, and they had a big party for us, remembering how swell it was to be free of the mad Dr. Snarkey. It'd been a year since we saved them and things were looking good in Waterlog. Our pteranodon friend, Tonker Thwak, stayed in Waterlog because he loved Dingle's Dab, that big old swamp south of the city, where a lot of the city's farming gets done. There are still huge swaths of unoccupied and likely unexplored swamp down there, a place where Tonker said he felt the most at home. Since his miraculous rebirth that is. Lots of fish in an immense swamp and a balmy climate, Tonker was beaming when last we saw him.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Now we are just cruising the great Yudonke, enjoying the river's easy flow. That last patch of shallow was a pretty rough exception, on Brak anyway, plus we spilled quite a lot of iced tea, but usually it's a nice calm float down the lazy river.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Rover was passing a pipe of Tenner's excellent weed and our iced teas were proving to be a delicious treat when I noticed, way off in the distance, coming from the opposite direction of where Waterlog is at, a large bird. An unusually large bird.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Hey, guys,” I say, getting their attention. “Do you see that big old bird down there?” They looked. “Way down, just a speck now but it sure is big. Like a . . .”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “It's a Pteranodon,” Brak said. “And it's coming toward us.” Brak Hero has very sharp vision.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “What the heck,” Rover huffed. “It couldn't be Tonker, he's a long ways behind us.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> We all stared, transfixed as the big bird, has to be a pteranodon at this point, approached. Soon the pteranodon arrives and begins circling, watching us, then he lands, knocking over one of the umbrella tables. Ellim rushes out and sets it right, as we stare with disbelieving eyes. It is Tonker.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Is this an adventure?” he blurts out before anyone can say anything. “You know, are you guys in a story? Is this a story?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Whoa, Tonker, slow down,” I tell him. “This isn't a story so far, we're just developing, setting up the scene, you know? May be a story, maybe not. We'll see.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “How come you're here?” Brak asks. “The last we saw of you, you were skimming across the trees in Dangle's Dab, having the time of your life.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “That's right,” I concur, “but that's a good long ways in the other direction that you came from.” </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Clear past that big old shallow section that grounded us a few times,” Rover put in.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “That happens to everybody that goes through there,” Brak murmurs.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “So this </span><i><span>is</span></i><span> a story,” Tonker sighs with evident relief.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “What's going on Tonker?” I ask. “Of course this is a story,” This all seems impossible and I'm somewhat bemused. How could this not be a story? Rosy's telling it, it's a story. Sheesh. </span><p></p></p><p><span> “I, well I fell out of the story, or rather the last part of the story, the part where you drop me off, I'm happy ever after and you float away. That part.” I nod. That's the way it had seemed to me. “Well, there I was, having the time of my life, as you so nicely put it Brak, when suddenly the world tilted upward.” </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Huh?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Just lifted up and began rolling. The entire scene was getting put away, rolled up and tucked away, maybe to appear again, maybe not.” We stared with a morbid fascination. “So I ran over towards the edge to try and jump into the river but I didn't notice that the scene's sky, having been rolled up, was now underfoot and I, well I fell through the sky.” </span><p></p></p><p><span> “That cannot be possible,” Brak murmurs, speaking for all of us.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Shouldn't be, that's for sure,” Tonker agrees. “But it apparently was because I did it. Fell right on through. I saw upside down trees and houses as I floundered through the air and thankfully my wings caught and I was able to glide to a landing. This place was the most different place yet. It was, in fact, a place I had visited before when I was looking for work, except that time it was telepathic, all mental you could say, this time, well, this time I was there, in the flesh.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Dang!” Rover barked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “That's right,” Tonker tells him. “Wasn't long before I was getting chased by flying machines with terrible roars, so I took off for Rosy's, and that's where I been, for some time now, gotta comfortable nest at Rosy's and so-so fishing in the river, so I was hiding out. Until just a while ago.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “So, what happened?” Jant asks.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I dunno. I saw Rosy that evening, just a while ago actually, and she smiled at me, but she seemed all dreamy-eyed, sort of distant. She'd just come back from a walk by the river with her husband and they went up that elevator.” He paused with a curious look. “I had a strange feeling that she was going straight to her word machine,” he continued, “and, well, it was soon after that when I fell through the sky again, so to speak.” He shook his head. “Right after they went up, I went for one of my night flights on the river, pretty early, just past dusk but dark enough to not be seen, I hoped, because I was hungry and I'm just cruising, skimming the water looking for fish when somehow, instead of getting darker, like I was fully expecting it to, well, it started getting lighter. I panicked when I realized what was happening and almost crashed. This couldn't be, I thought, and to make matters worse, the landscape was totally different. I just kept flying, looking for something familiar until I slowly came to realize that this wasn't Rosy's river at all, this was the great Yudonke, then I saw you guys.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Well, I guess you're in a story now Tonker,” I told him with a smile.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Great,” he sighed with relief. “So, what adventure are we on? Where're we going?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I dunno,” I answered. “The story hadn't developed that far.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Gosh. I hope it's a grand adventure,” Tonker enthused.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Well, I think I might have something here on that subject,” Rover told them, holding up a map.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Well, give Brak the coordinates,” I tell him, “and let's be on our way!”</span><p></p></p><p><span> I wasn't in the mood for details, I felt heroic and there was heroic music playing. I sat up tall in my captain's chair, the highest chair in the cockpit, with my chin held high as the Rivitir reconfigures into its flying saucer mode, then we zip off at hyper-golly speeds.</span><p></p></p><p><span> She rose from her word machine and went over to sit by her husband. He looked at her and spoke softly, “The pteranodon's gone.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yes, I know,” she answers, leaning back with a sigh of contentment. “He's turned up in another story. Right now he's in a flying saucer zipping at hyper-golly speeds away from the great Yudonke River.”</span><p></p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span>Here and There Some More Some More.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Now, with Tonker blasting through space in the AV Rivitir, she relaxes, knowing he's safe for now. She wonders what's next? The next morning, after she finishes her meditations, she goes to the park with her husband. The day is amazing for mid-winter, with no wind and warm temperatures so they could not resist the outing. </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Ever since our recent house guest I've been thinking about dinosaurs,” he tells her, as they are strolling the park. Nearing a bench she pushes his wheeled chair to the side of it and sits.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Is that so?” she answers, curious as to his thoughts.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I sort of liked that Tonker fellow, big and awkward as he was,” he says, grinning at her.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah, he's a good guy. You know the pteranodons are not really dinosaurs.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah, I know, so I was thinking of pteranodons then, and Tonker specifically since he's the only pteranodon I've ever known.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Okay, whatya thinking?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Well, it seems that a guy like that, you know, a good guy, eager to please, intelligent, interesting to talk to, someone you like to be around, a real sleek flyer, you could say. Yet every time I saw him standing there, three meters tall with a wing span of maybe four meters at least, which, well, it makes him awkward, awkward to you, awkward to him, and just plain awkward everywhere in our world. He didn't fit here and I think he knew it.” </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Even in stories he has trouble fitting in,” she says, sharing his concerns.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Right. So, I seem to recall in one of the Bradco ads about their Interdimensional Travel technology? Well, I seem to recall them saying there was a dinosaur world. They offered it just after the river world if I remember right.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yes, I remember,” she says, instantly seeing what he was suggesting. “Oh honey, that's brilliant!”</span><p></p></p><p><span> When she returned to her word machine there were already visions of volcanoes, jungles and massive beasts in her eyes.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Meanwhile, aboard the AV Rivitir the crew and I are huddled around Rover's map. We have just left the great Yudonke River and are now hurtling through space at hyper-golly speeds.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Look here,” Rover says, pointing to a volcano on his map.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Where's that at?” I ask. “I don't see anything familiar.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “It's the Dinosaur World, ma'am,” Rover says, looking over at me.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Dinosaur World?” several voices, including Tonker's, sing out.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “That's right,” Rover says, smiling proudly. “It's the other world offered in the Bradco ads for their Interdimensional Travel Bureau. I thought we might buzz by this Dinosaur World and take a look. See if we like it, you know, before we book a trip with Bradco.” </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Go take a look before we buy passage?” I say, wondering if I was hearing him right.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yep, that's pretty much it,” Rover says, rolling up the map.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I'd like to see this Dinosaur World,” Tonker says.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I think you will pretty darn soon, if my coordinates work out,” Rover tells him.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Ladies and Gentlemen,” Brak says through the loudspeakers, “This is your pilot speaking. We'll be coming in for a landing at Dinosaur World International Airport (DWX) in about fifteen minutes. This flight has been lovely with no turbulence, so far. Please fasten your seatbelts.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> Apparently the Rivitir has reconfigured into an airplane. A jet near as I can tell. We all comply, quickly fastening our seat belts, even Tonker who has a strap-in system, similar to my own.</span><p></p></p><p><span> We can all easily hear Brak talking when he's in the cockpit so he doesn't really need the loudspeakers, but he likes using them anyway. It does give his voice an impressive cast. We are soon skidding and screeching down the runway toward the main terminal at DWX.</span><p></p></p><p><span> After we park the Rivitir, we head for the Dinosaur World terminal. We're all excited, especially Tonker. There is a primordial ocean nearby and the air is thick, humid with lots of big puffy clouds overhead and we are surrounded by dense tropical foliage. I notice the airport is pretty small for an international airport and surrounded by two layers of tall chain link fence topped with Constantine wire. There are impressive guard towers at every corner and more in between.</span><p></p></p><p><span> When we get to the terminal there are taxi stands occupying most the space in front with a large portal gate for the Bradco Interdimensional Travel Bureau to transport large things, like the Rivitir, and inside a smaller portal next to a counter for booking. A bored clerk at the counter directed us out front to the taxis, where a driver, at the end of a line of several taxis, was standing by his taxi waiting for a customer. He greeted us with a big smile until he saw Tonker, who he eyed warily. We were able, with Tonker's help, to reassure him and he allowed us inside his craft. The cabs were armored personnel carriers and the drivers wore a lot of body armor and there was a large cannon mounted on top of each cab.</span><p></p></p><p><span> The carrier took us to the fortified city Bradville, named after its founder, Brad Puffup, CEO of Bradco Inc. and arch-criminal. The trip is uneventful except for one of the billboards lining the boulevard got knocked over and chewed up by a growling and snapping dinosaur, pretty big guy, who thankfully ignored us as we sped by. </span><p></p></p><p><span> Inside the city were several layers of fortified fencing and we had to pass through a couple checkpoints before we got to the tourist area which is in the center. There are museums and interactive displays with life-size dinosaurs. Tours are offered to the PBI zones (Possible Break-In) that surround the city. It is there that you are likely to see actual dinosaurs going about their apparently angry business, on the other side of double fencing, of course. Apparently, the entire Dinosaur World experience is behind fences and armor.</span><p></p></p><p><span> The next morning we asked the guards not to fire so that Tonker could fly out and explore the countryside himself. He seemed determined to get away from all the fencing and armor. He told us that none of those defenses felt right, like this wasn't how it should be and he took to the skies, seeming to know where he was going. He didn't return until the next day and again, seeing who it was circling way up there, we asked the guards not to fire.</span><p></p></p><p><span> After landing he came running up to me. “Captain, I've met the pteranodon pack and I'm going to join them. We sing!” He was so happy!</span><p></p></p><p><span> We took a taxi back to the airport to fetch the Rivitir. Tonker seemed angry at the elaborate defenses at the city and the airport, saying it was just foolishness. I wasn't sure I agreed, remembering that angry dinosaur tearing the billboard apart when we first came in.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Tonker has given Brak the location of the pteranodon town and we are cruising that way now. The Rivitir is in her spaceship form, the flying saucer shape, which I think she likes the best. I was sure Tonker wanted to get out and fly in front, leading the way, he was so excited. He directed us to a valley with a broad cliff on one side. As we landed I could see other pteranodons flying down from the cliffs to meet us. Tonker introduced us to some and we introduced ourselves to the others. It was a lively group and Tonker seemed right at home.</span><p></p></p><p><span> One of the pteranodon leaders came over and introduced himself, nice fellow named Filbath. I chatted with him while everyone else scattered about, talking and getting to know each other. The first thing I had noticed coming in was there were no guards or watchers posted. No way to keep the monsters out or even to be alerted about them. This whole place was defenseless.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “You guys don't seem too concerned with the other dinosaurs like they are in Bradville,” I said. “We've been told that there's monsters everywhere. We even saw one attacking a billboard coming in. A terrible creature it was, with gaping jaws and a berserker attitude. They say there's monsters out there that'll gobble you up in a second, like in the movies, yet here you are.” My gesture included the cliffs, the valley and the community, all out in the open. </span><p></p></p><p><span> Filbath scowled, shaking his head, then chuckled ruefully. “There are dangerous places here, that's true, but most of our land is peaceful and safe. Watch out for the Crunchers, what you all call T-Rex's, that's for sure. But those Crunchers and a few others who are, in fact, pretty ferocious, are easy to stay clear of. They're incredibly stupid, so stupid we have no problem keeping them contained in their ancestral lands, allowing them to follow their game but keeping them out of civilization. They're a good long ways from us, so we have no worries. Incidentally, Bradville and its airport are located smack dab in the middle of one of their hunting grounds.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Wow. No wonder they're all fenced in and armored. Sheesh. Didn't they know that? I mean they must have done some research, some sort of looking around at least.” He was silent. “They didn't, did they?” I muttered.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “They took that spot from the very beginning. When they first appeared in their spaceship to install the interdimensional receivers, they planted their flag and declared that it was their spot, fighting off a couple Crunchers in the process, then they immediately began putting up big guns, building fences and unloading their fancy equipment.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “No one said anything?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Oh, yes, many did, but they refused to listen. They said they were the experts and they had it all under control. Especially since they were the ones with interdimensional travel, not us. Technological wizards, they said they were, with superior knowledge in all areas. We just shrugged; you know? We didn't really care what happened to those buffoons and we also didn't care much about what happened to the Crunchers. So here we are, the Sleek Flyers with hundreds of other races all living peacefully, as do most on Mother Sky, which is what we call our planet. Over there in Bradville they're battling the stupidest, most ferocious monsters in all the land while selling illusion behind sturdy fences.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Wow. That's quite something,” I said, stunned at these revelations. Looking around though, it all made sense. “Sleek Flyer, is that what you guys call yourselves?'</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yep. We're an ancient species.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> Then I remembered something he had said earlier. “How do you keep them contained?” I asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Ah, that has many answers. Foremost is tradition. These have always been Cruncher lands. These lands, mostly the marshes or thick jungles by rivers and around volcanoes have always been Cruncher territory. Enter at your own risk, you could say, but really, as stupid and as big, and as clumsy as these creatures are they're fairly easy to avoid.” He scowled. “Unless they're hungry, and happen to notice you, and give chase. Your best bet then would be to fly off, fast.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Well, I don't figure on going to any Cruncher land,” I told him. “We don't need anything in Bradville, not even their interdimensional travel machine since the Rivitir seems able to do that just fine. So, uh, they just stay there? In their own lands?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Pretty much,” he answered, “but being as stupid as they are, and really, you cannot imagine this level of stupidity, they just wander willy-nilly, eating each other as often as not, and when one or a couple wander off, out of their lands, we have a Border Patrol to point them back.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Wow, that sounds like a pretty good arrangement. Border Patrol huh?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah. You probably noticed a few of the Sleek Flyers were wearing camouflage vests with red stars.” I had seen them. “They're the Border Patrol. It's a cadre of young people who enlist for two years, or more if they like it and have an aptitude for it, to serve the community and keep the borders intact. It's something of an honor to be in the Border Patrol. Not everyone can get in and there's competitions for the spots. Anyway, they have various techniques to control the beasts but usually just loud noises, aerial attacks and well placed decoys keep them in place.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Gosh, that's pretty cool. And Bradville has no idea?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Apparently not.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> Just then Tonker came over with Rover. “Hey, you guys,” I called out. “What's up?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Just seeing how you were doing,” Tonker answered.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “They're going to do a concert,” Rover told us.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “The pteranodons?” I asked, forgetting their real names for a moment.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “They're Sleek Flyers Captain and yes, they're going to sing,” Rover answered.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I'm actually the director,” Filbath told us, “And we do have a concert today, starting soon in fact. I'd like to invite young Tonker here to join us.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> Tonker blushed, which is difficult to detect in a Sleek Flyer. “I'd love to,” he chirped.</span><p></p></p><p><span> The Sleek Flyers perched in various places along the cliff face which faced a broad grassy valley with a river meandering through it. Trees grew here and there, occasionally in clusters. I could see some Sleek Flyers overhead cruising lazily around in wide circles but most were now gathering on the cliffs or in the broad meadow at their base.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Filbath stood atop a large rock where everyone perched on the cliff could see him. He raised a wing and immediately a soft humming began. “Ahhhhhh,” going on and on, then a group of five began singing bass, “Hum chugga chugga, hum chugga chugga,” and on like that. Then I realized that the entire audience had started humming ahhh, all of them, everyone around us. I saw Rover and Jant joining in then Brak and I were too. You couldn't help it. It was like a giant buzzing that made the ground itself vibrate. Ahhhh. The bass line fit perfectly with our humming, hum chugga chugga, then a group of tenors started in with some soaring and heroic music that somehow made you feel proud. Tonker was with this group. He has a surprisingly strong tenor voice, discernible in his group, singing of valor, heroism and love. Next the sopranos and altos began, singing of family and love in a melody that twirled and wove around the tenors when they too sang of love, combining in gorgeous strands that intertwined beautifully with all the other parts, and what was most amazing was that everything followed the hum, our hum, that underlay it all. It was thrilling! I think it lasted for a couple hours or so but it seemed a mere instant to me. </span><p></p></p><p><span> Afterward Tonker joined us. He was exuberant and kept going on and on about how thrilling it had been. He told us that a group had invited him to go fishing with them this evening, further down the river and he was thrilled to go. In the next few days we saw less and less of him. We took various excursions, doing this and that while he was becoming a part of this community. Finally one day I told him that we were ready to leave.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “We've decided not to book passage with the Bradco Interdimensional Travel Bureau,” I told him “so it might be awhile before we get back this way.” I paused. “But we could come back more often, if that's what you wanted.” I paused. “It's just that it seems such a natural environment for you here, and well, I wonder if, well, did you maybe want to stay? Filbath and some of the others told us that you'd be more than welcome if you wanted to stay.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> He was silent, looking sad. “We've had some pretty amazing adventures together and I love you guys. My time on the Rivitir has been the finest of my life, until now that is, and I can't stand the thought of being away from you for any time at all, yet,” He paused. “yet this is where I belong. I knew as soon as I saw this valley and these Sleek Flyers that this was my home, but I was afraid to admit it. Afraid it would end up being wrong somehow, but I know now.” He smiled joyfully. “This is my home and that's that. I don't need a story to exist. But I know you guys can't stay. Your work is too important, fighting injustice, uncovering mysteries and keeping hope alive. I'll miss you terribly and I really do hope you visit often.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> We left the next morning with little fanfare, as we had hoped. Tonker, Filbath and a few others came to see us off. I looked back and waved as we flew away. Tonker found happiness and so had we in the process. The crew, while never morose, were unusually cheerful, humming bits of the Sleek Flyer music as they moved about. I wasn't sure where we were going next, despite my being the captain and I gazed out the front window, seeing just the vast, empty space ahead.</span><p></p></p><p><span> She shut her word machine and stood, then walked over and gazed out the window at the vast, empty space of the afternoon sky. I wonder where Rover will take us next? she thought.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Perhaps to a world we've not dreamed of,” her husband murmurs, joining her at the window. They often hear each other's thoughts.</span><p></p></p><p><span> She smiles at him. “Perhaps,” she says.</span><p></p></p><p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/71581022023-02-21T15:21:40-07:002023-03-24T01:10:13-07:00Here and There - By Rosy<p><span> She lives in a belfry which had its bell removed quite a long time ago. Years later it was converted into an apartment with two levels, both of which comprise her apartment. She knew the other apartments were all subdivided inside a large church whose massive bell once hung in her abode.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Originally the large belfry had been obtained by walking a spiral stairway that circled around the interior of the stone and mortar tower, but when her apartment was devised an elevator had been installed. Ornate, old-fashioned, with more than a hint of mystery, her sanctuary atop a tower next to a converted church apartment complex suited her and her husband to a tee.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Living in a society that worshipped money and was therefore frequently at war, she felt, from her earliest memories, at odds. Apart, somehow, yet she managed to be engaged enough to make a living as a librarian, working in a library that was an easy walk from her tower apartment she'd been renting at that time.</span><p></p></p><p><span> No one that she knew could remember what kind of church it had been, but she knew, having her archives to peruse, yet she could never seem to remember. It was irrelevant, she supposed, perhaps even irreverent in an odd sort of way, to recall the church's former identity. Like casting aspersions, in a religious way, to point out a denomination's failures. Bad karma. She knew also that the denomination had not reappeared, at least not in her neighborhood. It already had a couple of existing church's in town but nothing new since this one's closing. She'd heard that religion was dying out due to intolerance and bad politics. It certainly held no attraction for her. The worst president she'd ever seen anywhere got elected largely because of religion. At her advanced age she eschews all religion, but remains deeply spiritual, setting aside twenty minutes or so each morning for her meditations and chants. She has, like the naysayers would say, cherry picked her practices, choosing rituals from Buddhist, Wiccan and Norse traditions. She is, for the most part, happy.</span><p></p></p><p><span> As she makes her way through the city on her various errands, she encounters human wreckage that mystifies and saddens her. Human beings stumbling about, disheveled or barely dressed despite the cold temperatures, living in forlorn tents, looking like despair made worse. What kind of leadership would let this happen? </span><p></p></p><p><span> Finally, she's home again, feeling a familiar rush of relief at this refuge. Since her apartment had been rent-to-own, she and her husband now owned the place, including the tower and the little plot of land it sits on, so she enters through a private locked door and is greeted by a small lobby with an elevator and a spiral stairway going up. The room has a ceiling two stories up, which is the bottom of their apartment, so that it's airy and pleasant. She has several large potted plants on either side and across from an old couch that she'd put here when they got their new one. Everything appears sunny and to be thriving, making her smile as she passes through to the elevator where she picks a key from her small key ring and unlocks it before going inside and pushing number two. There are two floors available, one, the lower, being mostly their bedroom, bath and storage and, two, the upper, containing all the enormous amount of things, books, music recordings, tools, and tables cluttered with their projects and all the minutia that occupy their lives. That and a gourmet kitchen. They lived like royalty with their only hardship being the property taxes, which took a large portion of their meager retirement money so that they relied on food stamps issued by the Democracy. She is in the habit of referring to her country as the Democracy, because most of the leaders are democratically elected, by the people. She firmly believes in 'we the people' as her country's governing ideology despite the encroachments of fascist elements in recent years. She despised fascism, as do most who can remember the second world war. </span><p></p></p><p><span> The elevator was quickly to the second floor and its door opened to her living room, bright with windows all around, open to the sunlight. Her husband looks up from his reading. He's here, he's lovely and they kiss, glad to see each other. He doesn't rise to greet her as he is partially disabled and standing is difficult. She moves to the stove and sets her teapot to simmer and gazes out the window. Depending on where you stand the entire city is visible. It is winter and all the windows are closed but not draped. A round hearth in the center contains a crackling fire and the room is comfortable. Later, as the long winter dusk approached, she would pull the drapes to keep the warmth in.</span><p></p></p><p><span> After checking on her husband, who is in fact a sasquatch although many mistake him for human, she settles, with a sigh of contentment, in front of her word machine. </span><p></p></p><p><span> Her name is Rosy and she makes up stories. She settles back, observing a large bird in the far distance that made her think of a Pteranodon. A Pteranodon? Now that's interesting. An ancient bird, said to be extinct now for some sixty-five million years or so. Flying reptiles actually. Seemed pretty nice, with their great long beaks and widespread wings. They appear to have small fingers at their wing's second or third joint, giving them increased dexterity, an advantage I would think. They lived on earth for some four million years, going extinct sixty-five million years ago during the huge extinction event that occurred following a giant meteor crashing into the Yucatan Peninsula. Four million years are a big time. Human beings can say that maybe the first homo sapiens appeared fifty to sixty thousand years ago, possibly a hundred thousand. Our apparent predecessors, the Australopithecines, could say maybe a couple million years or so. Thus, with tons of evolution producing us, presumably the latest model, we've just gone about a hundred thousand years or so, and that's about two and a half percent as long as the Pteranodons lived. Even if you included two million for the australopithecines, we're still less than half their life span.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Rosy's first thought was, they didn't blow themselves up. What an ingenious survival technique, except in the big, long run, say four million years or so, nature appears to step in and put a halt to it. Nature says, blow yourself up or I'll do it for you, basically. Rosy wondered if the human race was allotted a time to exist? Four million years? She smiled sadly. No, we'll blow ourselves up, long before that. She gazed out the window at the cloudy sky, which was slowly changing, becoming like over a sagebrush desert, perhaps.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Brak brought the All-Vehicle Rivitir down to a smooth landing on the side of a dry, shallow valley. The landscape could be described as barren or lush, whichever the eye chooses to see. Scattered sagebrush were the largest things growing, then scrubby cedar bushes and little clumps of grass here and there, with lots of lichen on the rocks. There was nothing above a meter in height, and all were sparse in width. A pale yellow and brown sand and gravel mixture dominated the landscape, giving it a definite barren appearance from way off, but quite a lush appearance close up.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “We're we at?” I asked Rover, our navigator.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yes, Ma'am. Well, I'm not real sure, let me see,” he answered, opening a map.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Jant, our radio and radar specialist, opened the door and stepped outside. “High plains desert, I'd say, ma'am.” She turned around a couple times, squinting at the horizon as Brak, our ace pilot, stepped out.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Sagebrush desert, ma'am, like we've seen dozens of times,” he said, grimacing at the view.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I think it's Elvenstead, though,” Jant said upon completing her spinning and squinting. “Up north, toward the great Alfenheimr Forest, I'd say.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Could be,” Rover muttered from inside the Rivitir. “This could well be the high plain desert next to Alfenheimr Forest, alright.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Not much here,” I stated.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Rover shrugged. “I dunno,” he huffed, “let's see if we can find out.” He stepped out to where Brak and Jant were standing, ready to go. </span><p></p></p><p><span> Zingellawabix, the magic wand is an able watchman over the Rivitir and will call me instantly via telepathy should anything come up. Ellim, our Bradco 11:11BS service bot, is also keeping watch. I followed Rover out. </span><p></p></p><p><span> Brak and Jant Hero are twins from the hero collective in Elvenstead called Heroes Я Us, which produces the finest heroes in the world. Rover and I followed them as they hiked along the top of the little valley toward what seemed to be a larger valley. The Rivitir looked like a giant bullet with windows in front as we walked away.</span><p></p></p><p><span> I began to notice more greenery on the valley's floor and a small brook soon became apparent by its sound even though we were getting higher above by staying on its edge. The brook must be fed from springs, run-off from the high plains where any moisture is quickly absorbed into the sandy soil. The valley was getting bigger. Soon we had to choose between walking along the top in the sagebrush or descending into a lush and forested valley because the valley's walls were becoming cliffs. We chose the lush and forested downward path, which was itself becoming more visible. We were following an increasingly well-worn path and it wasn't long before we came upon a couple of scruffy looking elves who stopped dead when they saw us, like they'd never seen two hero elves leading an elf captain and a dog before. Could be they hadn't. We also stopped and I stepped forward.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Hello there,” I called out. “You wouldn't happen to know where we're at, would you?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> They looked at us with surprised expressions. These were clearly not forest elves although their valley did seem to be forested, rather they were somehow browner, drier looking, but in a natural way, like this was their normal. They wore broad floppy hats that allowed their pointed ears, much more pointed than ours, to poke above on either side.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “This here's the road to the Pirly Gates of Apogee,” the older member told us in authoritarian tones. </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Wow, is that so?” Brak said with round eyes. Everyone who grew up in Elvenstead knew of the Pirly Gates of Apogee but few, if any, believed in them. These Pirly Gates were said to open to the Perfect Place, so perfect that all who enter never return.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “So is it perfect?” Brak asked, “You know, on the other side?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “How can we know?” the old guy said solemnly. “No one's ever returned who has passed through them, so how can we know? How can anyone know?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I just heard that it was perfect over there, that's all,” Brak said, starting to squirm a little. It was sort of superstitious to believe in the Perfect Place on the other side of the Pirly Gates of Apogee but many did, sort of secretly, never talked about it, but many did, many believe it even now.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “You guys from around here?” I asked. They were silent, staring at me with wide eyes.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Why'd you go to the gate?” Jant asked. “I mean, what's down there? This trail looks pretty well traveled. Why do people go to the gate?” Now they stared at her but remained silent. Suddenly the younger one started walking briskly down the path toward us and the older one, with a surprised look, followed behind, staying as far from us as possible as they passed, silent and grim faced. </span><p></p></p><p><span> When they were beyond hearing, Rover said, “Well, maybe we should go take a look at this gate. I sort of think it's not what everyone thinks it is.” Then, as one, the couple trudging along in the far distance stopped, turned and stared at us with grim, almost sad faces.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yikes!” Rover yelped. “Now that's spooky,” and he began walking toward the Pirly Gate, away from those piercing eyes, with us close behind. It was spooky. When I glanced back, they were gone. It was darn spooky and we started to clump together, sometimes bumping into each other as we walked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> After a very long walk, but much shorter than we'd thought, we came to the gate. It was quite ornate with large golden bars set in double doors that were latched in the middle. There was a high white wall on either side, apparently containing the Perfect Place. In front was a tall white podium, maybe three meters tall, and an old elf with long white hair and beard perched on top looking down at us.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Hello!” I called up. “Are these the Pirly Gates of Apogee?” I asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> He looked down at me. “Yes, Rosy, these are the Pirly Gates of Apogee.” He looked at the others, “Hello Rover, Brak and Jant. I'm Perfect Peet.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “The Perfect Peet? At the Pirly Gates of Apogee?” Rover said with a dazed expression.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yes, that's right. I'm the Perfect Peet Dunavavitch.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> We were all awed. This was the stuff of legends. Something flew past, briefly distracting Perfect Peet and he cast an angry glance skyward. </span><p></p></p><p><span> There was some sort of disturbance outside and Rosy looked up from her word machine, returning to the real world. There was that Pteranodon again, flying around their tower. What does it want, she wondered? Her husband was snoring softly in his chair by the fire. She got up and went to the window where she could see more clearly as it flew by. When it passed again it looked at her until it was sure it had her attention. Then it flew down and perched in the grass by the parking lot. Their apartment door has always been in the parking lot and they've never wanted to change it. Everyone else's apartments in the big church were accessed by large double doors in front, then apartments down a long hallway which ended with a single door that was situated just past where the Pteranodon sat. This door and hers were the back doors, so to speak, but she and her husband didn't mind. Liked it that way. </span><p></p></p><p><span> She looked at her sleeping husband, then scribbled him a quick note on the pad they kept by the door, “Back in a minute, just downstairs to check something, love you, R” They never tired of telling each other of their love. She took the elevator down and stepped outside onto the short sidewalk leading to the parking lot. On the small strip of lawn between the church and the parking lot sat the Pteranodon, watching her silently. She took a step toward it then stopped, returning its gaze. She couldn't think of anything to say.</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>First, you must know I'm not really here.</span></i><span>} came a voice in her head. She was thrilled! This is how Zingellawabix and Capt. Rosy talk!</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>Yes, well, I don't know about this Zing fellow, but this is how my kind communicate.</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> “You can hear me?” she asked, somewhat mystified.</span><p></p></p><p><i><span> </span></i><span>{</span><i><span>Yes, I hear you fine, whether you speak or not.</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Oh,” she said, unsure what to think, “well, I'll just talk then. I'm more used to that.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>That's fine. The reason I called you here is about my application to be in a story. I put it in over a year ago, maybe longer.</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><i><span> </span></i><span> “You did?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>Yes, and I was even briefly in a story, but you probably don't remember. Thing is, I haven't heard from you. I'm not complaining mind you, I just thought I'd come back and, well, you know, give you a friendly reminder.</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> “You want to be in more stories?”</span><p></p></p><p><i><span> </span></i><span>{</span><i><span>Yes, ma'am. I've been extinct for sixty-five million years after all. That takes a lot out of you.</span></i><span>} I nodded. I was sure that it would. {</span><i><span>So the best part of ghosting, for me anyway, is being remembered, especially after that big of a time.</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> He was right, she hadn't remembered him. Apparently, he hadn't made much of an impression. “What's your name? she asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>I am Tonkerwhoooshb'bthwák.</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Tonker wush . . .” she began.</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>More like whoo-hoosh on a windy day. Bubthwák after that, accent on thwak.</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Tonker whoo-oosh bub thwák?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> {</span><i><span>Yeah, that's pretty much it but you have an odd accent. Anyway, I can tell that it's a hard name to get so how about just Tonker?</span></i><span>}</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah, okay. Tonker then. I'll see what I can do Tonker.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> With that she turned and went back up to her word machine. Her husband stirred briefly when she reentered but didn't awaken. Settling behind her word machine she watched Tonker flying off. What a magnificent creature. Like he owns the sky, perhaps a fellow of his size and comportment does. The sky is a deep blue, a heavenly blue, with a few cotton ball clouds here and there.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Perfect Peet looks down at them. “So what do you lot want?” He smiles grimly. “Looking to go through the Pirly Gates?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “No sir, nothing like that,” I tell him quickly. I could see through the golden bars into the Perfect Place, except it just looked gray, like a huge gray wall that eventually sloped around so that it appeared to be a tremendous dome of gray something. “No we're just tourists, you know?” I sputtered. For some reason my nerves were on edge. “Just looking around. Nice place you got here.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “What's that big gray thing?” Rover asked. “Is that the Perfect Place?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yes, Rover,” Perfect Peet answered. “It's what we call the event horizon. Nothing returns that passes through it.” We all stared, fascinated by this immense gray dome before us. As we looked the gray seemed to melt and flow so that occasionally we'd get glimpses of something that was maybe looking back but maybe not, maybe not there at all, then slowly the gray became solid with odd flashes of white light then every color blossoming and suddenly gone, then gray slowly beginning to move again, suggesting strange yet compelling shapes inside. This was the most fascinating thing I've ever seen and I stared and stared. Suddenly a Pteranodon flew by, then circled and flew over us, flapping his wings loudly.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “What the hale?” the Perfect Peet yelped, looking upward. The giant dome went stiff and solid gray. We backed up shaking our heads as if just waking up. I felt like we'd been dreaming, almost mesmerized. The Pirly Gates were partially open and Perfect Peet was yelling at the sky.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “C'mon you guys,” I barked at the crew, then, looking upward at Perfect Peet, still shaking his fist at the sky, I waved and yelled, “Thanks Perfect Peet!” I didn't want to be rude, just running off like we were.</span><p></p></p><p><span> We ran back up the path that had brought us here. After a ways, when my panicky feeling died down, I slowed our walk, but we continued fairly briskly, nonetheless. We were just coming past where the cliffs had started and were pretty much back in the sagebrush desert when I glanced to the side at a large rock. I was somehow not surprised to see that Pteranodon sitting behind it, watching us. It seemed to be smiling. </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Looks like I came by just in the nick of time,” it stated, stepping into view with a wide smile.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “What do you mean?” I asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “You was about to get sucked in.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “No, we were just watching,” Brak said.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Looking at that big, strange thing, that's all,” I put in.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Everyone who gets to the Pirly Gates afore their time, but are just watching, you know, just looking? Well, everyone that does that ends up going through. Everyone, unless something happens to break the spell.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Like a dinosaur flying over?” Jant asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Just like that, except I'm not a dinosaur.” We waited. “I'm a Pteranodon.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Isn't that a dinosaur?” Jant asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “No! Well, yes. Technically. Pteranodons are dinosaurs, rather like elves are apes. We're much more than dinosaurs. Us Pteranodons were quite advanced for our time.” </span><p></p></p><p><span> “Well, that's pretty cool,” I said, “and thanks a lot for saving us! Really, that was most kind, but I think we need to get back to our ship.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “This place is kind of creepy,” Rover put in.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yes, I agree,” the Pteranodon said, nodding agreement. “Most creepy indeed. Which is why I have agreed to accompany you to your vehicle.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Agreed? What do you mean agreed? With who? Someone ask you to do that?” I was heated, more than the situation called for. </span><p></p></p><p><span> “No one asked!” he blurted. “I just said it wrong, c'mon, I've been extinct now for sixty-five million years, give me a break. I Just wanted to walk with you.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “He did save us from the Pirly Gates,” Rover stated.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “How'd you know to do that?” I asked the Pteranodon.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Hey, I'm extinct. I passed through that gate sixty five million years ago, give or take a little.” He looked aggrieved.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “You came back?” I asked, looking at him with wonder.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Well, yeah, but I can't say how. I probably sort of seeped out, like maybe a drop every hundred years or so, maybe, but I didn't know what was going on, I just, somehow, must have done it.” I think we all looked blank. “I didn't know what was going on until it was done, and then it took a while to figure out,” he finished, with a shrug.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “So, how about the Perfect Place? Is it perfect?” I asked.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Yeah, what's it like?” Jant added.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Everything that happens inside the Perfect Place stays inside the Perfect Place,” he told us with a sad look. “I have no memory of it, nothing. It's as if I was born again here but with vague memories of an ancient past life and absolutely nothing in between.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> We were all silent for some time.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Anyway, there I was,” he continued, “waking, oh, so slowly into a fine spring morning, young and vigorous I was, coming out of a dream and into reality.” He paused. “A different reality than was apparent at first. Same green earth, although flowers were quite a revelation, certainly the first of many, and, well, then I was flying. Exhilarating it is, to float easily through the skies until someone on a broom sees you and falls off in shock.” He looked briefly guilty, before shrugging and continuing on. “I knew that my known reality had changed rather dramatically.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I'll say,” Brak murmured.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “So I flew the length of this great continent, keeping out of sight, figuring things out, bit by bit. Then, when I flew over the Pirly Gates again and saw you all gazing at it, all rapt-like at that big gray dome I, well, I wanted to help. None of you look as if you'd want to walk through, yet there you were, gazing, leaning forward, so I flapped by, made some noise, you know? Got a good cussin' from that so-called Perfect Peet, but you probably didn't hear that.” He shook his head. “Words you wouldn't expect coming from perfection,” he murmured.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Okay then,” I said. “C'mon and walk with us, uh. What's your name?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> I'm Tonker-whooosh-b'bthwák,” he said proudly. “But I go by Tonker.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Nice to meet you Tonker, I'm Rosy and that's Rover and those two are Brak and Jant.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Gosh, that sure is a fine name you got Tonker,” Jant said as we started. “Can I try it? Tonker whooosh was it?”</span><p></p></p><p><span> Tonker was a good teacher and soon Jant could say his name with a little accent. They were both quite pleased.</span><p></p></p><p><span> We continued on the path that had brought us here. The further we went the less clear the path was until there was just a shallow valley and no trail at all, like when we started. I peered ahead but saw no sign of the Rivitir.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Want me to fly up and see if it's there?” Tonker asked, giving me a questioning look.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Wait, how'd you know I was looking for something?” I asked, suddenly suspicious again.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Because there's no way you guys coulda walked out here in the absolute middle of nowhere equipped the way you are. There's gotta be a vehicle of some sort.” He looked forward. “Hasta be.” He looked at me, then pointed to the right. “Over there a zillion kilometers, across the famous Endless Desert, is Elvenstead and over there,” he pointed to the left, “across a zillion kilometers of forest and craggy mountains is Alfenheimr. This spot?” He pointed downward. “Is nowhere. It's as far from anything as you can get on this continent.” He looked around. “I know. I've flown the length of it.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “That means that south is Joten and Mish,” Rover told us, “but they're also zillions of kilometers across the Endless Desert.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Not much here,” I said, looking around nervously. Where's the Rivitir?</span><p></p></p><p><span> “So, should I look?” Tonker repeated.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “Huh? Oh, uh, yes. That would be good. See if it's up there,” I pointed ahead, “should be up there, oh, and it looks like a large cylinder with a rounded end.” With that he took to the sky.</span><p></p></p><p><span> We sat to rest. “If we have to, we can call Zingellawabix and have Clarabelle bring the ship to us,” I told them. “I'd prefer finding it on our own though.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> For me, contacting Zingellawabix is an emergency sort of thing, not something to do lightly. Clarabelle is our auto-pilot who, though I've not said, is likely to be at least partly culpable for Rover's horrendous navigation. Despite which I want to say that I have one hundred per cent confidence in Rover to accomplish successfully whatever navigational task is put to him. Clarabelle too. Just wanted to say that. </span><p></p></p><p><span> After a while we decided to continue on. I looked back, but the valley seemed at an odd angle, like we'd set off wrong, going across the Endless Desert. “Wait,” I called out. I aligned myself with where I thought the big valley was and pointed. “I think we go thatta way.”</span><p></p></p><p><span> I glanced back as we began walking on our new course. It's odd we can't see the giant event horizon of the Perfect Place. When you're there it seems big enough to be seen from space, even big enough to reach space, you'd think. Standing at the Pirly Gates of Apogee you cannot see any ending to its event horizon, no matter how much you stretched and looked. Same with looking up. It seemed a vast wall, straight up to the edge of vision before you realize it's slightly curving inward, that the near infinite sides are also curving inward so that you see it's a dome as big as the Endless Desert. Bigger. Yet here we are, half a day's walk away and we can't see any sign of it.</span><p></p></p><p><span> Stunned at this revelation, she became aware of her word machine and looked out the windows at the growing dusk. It was time to prepare dinner for her and her husband. She shut the machine and got up to close the drapes.</span><p></p></p><p><span> During dinner they watched electronic devices that tell of detectives solving cases that just could not be solved, yet they do, every time. They're amazing. She has, however, yet to make full peace with the devices themselves. They resist her advances, returning instead all manner of grievous distractions, although thankfully her current word machine seems reliable. The others come and go.</span><p></p></p><p><span> The night is peaceful, not too cold, and they stroll briefly in the park before returning to rest, forever dreaming their dreams. The next morning is overcast with rainy fronts charging through. She takes her walk, a walk she undertakes most days, wearing a raincoat, but she doesn't need it. The day is intermittently fair and her timing is good, taking her between the rains. She has a route that avoids most of the human wreckage and she sticks to it. It is the wreckage that's truly in charge here, it would seem. She's grown weary beyond understanding at the magnitude of the wreckage. Human beings cast out into wretchedness and hopeless despair in vast numbers. There's no way to conceive of it, yet there it is, in plain sight. She thinks of the people, scientists and specialists studying a nuclear disaster, an environmental disaster or any of the disasters that increasingly confront us, thinking how they must feel facing these big, seemingly irreparable messes and she suspects it's the same as she feels walking the streets. </span><p></p></p><p><span> She's always stood for goodness and light, but never stood at the center. Still, she tried to do the right thing, marched in marches, signed petitions, even participated in campaigns of various types, all promoting equality, freedom, and justice, yet here we are, buried in the wreckage of humans wandering the streets, pleading. Of course the wreckage rules, she thinks, because that's how her dreaded enemy, fascism, wheedles its way into power, slowly, insidiously. </span><p></p></p><p><span> Again she finds refuge back in her belfry. She checks on her husband who smiles and gives her a kiss. He is walking a little, having a good day. Later she'll take him outside in his wheeled chair for some fresh air. She sees the Pteranodon flying outside, bringing news.</span><p></p></p><p><span> “I found it!” Tonker yells as he lands by us. He'd come from almost the opposite direction we'd been traveling and I felt disconcerted. He graciously doesn't notice. “C'mon,” he shouted, laughing and pointing the way. “It's not far!”</span><p></p></p><p><span> And it wasn't far. Just over the ridge we'd been following. Maybe a kilometer back and over, so that somehow it had always been just barely beyond our sight. When I looked at the others, I could tell they were as confused and disoriented as I was. I invited Tonker into the Rivitir, which is quite spacious inside, having more than enough room for a big guy like him to be comfortable, and soon we were all relaxed in our places, resting and recouping, getting ready for wherever Rover {</span><i><span>and probably Clarabelle</span></i><span>} will take us next.</span><p></p></p><p><span> She shuts the word machine and spends some time admiring the various views of the city that their belfry afforded them. Later, strolling through the park with her husband in his wheeled chair, she wonders if Tonker will be riding with them for a while. A Pteranodon. Gosh.</span><p></p><p></p></p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/71348122023-01-08T13:46:30-07:002023-01-08T13:46:30-07:00The Great Yudonke - By Rosy<p>1. Interdimensional travel. </p>
<p> “Imagine there's a river and that it's the longest river ever. And no one knows about it. Except for now, that is, because now Interdimensional Travel from Bradco Inc is, for the first time ever, available. </p>
<p> Now, for the first time you can see the fabulous river world earth, where the amazing Yudonke River flows from the northern pole three and a half times around the planet to the southern pole where it tumbles into an immense cavern that goes right on through and delivers the water, now sterilized by the terrible heat at the earth's core, to the north pole where it emerges in a huge spring, beginning its long southern flow that will get all stinky again. </p>
<p> Or how about the dinosaur earth, where giant beasts, extinct in most other dimensions, roam freely, munching on whatever they can. Tours are available for your enjoyment from Interdimensional Travel by Bradco!” </p>
<p> Rosy put the flyer back on the table. “Sounds interesting,” she told the crew. Rosy is captain of the All-Vehicle Rivitir and her crew consists of Rover, the navigator and second in command, along with Brak and Jant, twin professional heroes and ace pilot and radio chatter respectively. </p>
<p> “We've always stayed in this dimension,” Brak noted. </p>
<p> “So has everyone, pretty much,” Rosy answered. “No one knew how to do interdimensional travel before. At least not that I know of.” </p>
<p> “They do it using jeewizium down on Lillow's Farm,” Rover said. </p>
<p> “Yeah right, I forgot. Seemed kind of haphazard, as I understood it,” Rosy said, frowning. “I mean they didn't seem to know where they were going or if they could find their way back.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, that's right,” Rover confirmed. “It took a dedicated adventurer to do it.” </p>
<p> “I'll say,” Brak agreed. “I heard that Lillow's dad disappeared adventuring that way.” </p>
<p> There was silence as they pondered this revelation. </p>
<p> “In any case,” Rosy continued, “Bradco seems to have done it. Puffup, when he's not being an arch-criminal, encourages research of all kinds. I can well imagine him wanting to explore these new realms.” </p>
<p> “New ways to make money,” Jant muttered. </p>
<p> “Be that as it may,” Rosy continued, “Bradco claims to have found a way, a way that allows for choosing a destination and a way to get back.” </p>
<p> “Be kinda cool floating on that Yudonke,” Rover noted. “I wonder how long it takes to float the entire distance?” </p>
<p> “Perhaps we should look into it,” Rosy suggested. The crew, always ready for adventure, nodded agreement. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>2. Booking passage. </p>
<p> The AV Rivitir landed in front of Brad Tower, the tallest building in the universe, settling easily onto the special AV landing pad. There was a valet to greet them driving a small waggal to carry them to the tower's ostentatious front portal. Rosy was glad when the waggal zipped up the wide staircase and deposited them at the door. The stairway was quite imposing, very wide and very long, all in white marble. She could see elves of all sort laboriously making their way up or down. Probably take an hour, she thought, shaking her head. </p>
<p> “It takes forty-five minutes if you're young and healthy and don't take any breaks,” Rover told her, reading from another pamphlet. </p>
<p> “An old lady might take an hour and a half, maybe longer with breaks,” Brak observed. </p>
<p> “Well, I wouldn't know about that,” Rosy stated, eyeing the big doors of the front entrance. “Shall we go in?” and she pulled the door open. </p>
<p> Inside was huge, far beyond expectations. For example, Rosy expected to be able to see the ceiling, not blue skies interspersed with fluffy clouds moving gently across, nor did she expect to see a vast forest with paths and houses here and there. She saw a weird contrivance go by, like a waggal only with wheels pulled by an energetic donkey, and she gasped in amazement. </p>
<p> “Used to be a lot of those back in Lillow's day,” Rover informed her, “They called them wagons and usually hired a donkey or a horse to pull 'em.” </p>
<p> There was a big sign: ← IDT, which was, Rosy knew from the brochure, InterDimensional Travel, or IDT as they call it. Following the path indicated by the arrow they came to a beautiful forest park with a large stately building whose front porch contained four large pillars holding the majestic overhang above. They proceeded to a glass door that slid open automatically as they approached and entered a business like lobby. The receptionist looked up with a wide smile. </p>
<p> “Welcome to Bradco Corporation's Interdimensional Travel Bureau. Are you interested in traveling to other dimensions?” </p>
<p> “Uh, well yeah, I think so,” Rosy answered, looking at the others who were trying to be encouraging, nodding agreement. </p>
<p> “Well then you've come to the right place,” she said, smiling wide, like a ray of sunshine. </p>
<p> “We want to float our boat in the beautiful Yudonke River,” Rover piped up. </p>
<p> “Oh?” she answered. “What sort of boat do you have?” </p>
<p> “It's an All-Vehicle,” Rosy told her, “currently configured as a flying saucer. It's easier for transporting in that shape and we thought we'd have her be a boat after we got there,” </p>
<p> “Hmmm, yes, let me see,” she murmured, typing into her computer. “Oh yes, here we go. All-Vehicles can easily be transported to the River Earth.” We were thrilled, of course, and booked passage right then and there. </p>
<p>3. Floating on the river. </p>
<p> Brak expertly brought the Rivitir into a large box like structure and set it down. The door behind us closed and there was a humming with shaking and sparks and a strong ozone smell, then the door in front of us opened, showing a ramp going down to an ocean, which from up here I could tell was a really, really wide river. The far shore was just barely visible and as Brak brought us down to the water it disappeared. </p>
<p> “Wow,” I said, “I didn't think it would be this wide.” </p>
<p> “This is the normal river size,” Rover told us, looking at his maps. “About a kilometer or two across. But there are places where it's wider, like inland seas and places where it's more narrow, looking more like a river.” </p>
<p> “I guess we go with the flow,” Brak said, steering for the center. </p>
<p> “Sounds good,” Rosy agreed. </p>
<p> The Rivitir was configured as a luxury river boat and they all stood on the bridge, watching the river and the far, far banks on either side. </p>
<p> “Lots of islands,” Rover told them as they passed a large forested island. </p>
<p> There seemed to be a small village at the end, by a little cove, but they couldn't see the people clearly. There was quite a bit of river traffic, barges and yachts, sail boats and schooners, even a few rafts. Also a lot of houseboats as the river is smooth and easy flowing for its entire length only becoming dangerous as you neared the grand waterfall pouring into the earth at the south pole. There are several big nets that stretch all the way across to catch anything that might be powerless out there. An emergency patrol stationed on both sides, is ready to dash out with powerful boats in case of an emergency. </p>
<p> “But that's a couple months of easy floating until we reach that,” Rover said, leaving the bridge and settling into a deck chair. </p>
<p> Jant had the radar picture on but was also watching a movie on another screen while Brak stood resolutely behind the big steering wheel. He watched the river all around us, steering for the smoothest channels, watching out for snags and boggy spots. He was training the Clear-View Pilot, the Rivitir's auto-pilot, so they could travel with no one actually driving. A red light or a buzzer or something goes off if things go wrong, but none of them knew for sure what, they just knew it would. The Clear-View was pretty reliable. Almost from the first they referred to the Clear-View unit as Clarabelle, which she liked and adopted. </p>
<p> Ellim is the other machine member of the crew. He is a Bradco 11:11BS service bot who kept the boat, or saucer or whatever, shipshape. He cooked gourmet meals, did laundry and gofer duties, and seemed to know before anyone what was needed in every situation, all with a fabulously smiling and chipper attitude. Everyone liked him. </p>
<p> The last member of the crew is a magic wand named Zingellawabix. More ancient than Mother Earth herself, he is their guardian. He communicates with Rosy telepathically and keeps their home, the Rivitir, safe from all assaults. Zingellawabix and Rosy are also fighters in the great war against the demons or anti-gods who are the destroyers of Mother Earth, seeking to end an era. </p>
<p> Four elves, two machines and a magic wand. Together they made the Rivitir invincible. Rosy smiled as she watched the bank glide by. It was fascinating and they all sat in the deck chairs for hours watching the ever changing near shore. The far shore was too far to see in this stretch. Ellim kept their cups and pipes full so there was contentment. </p>
<p>4. Waterlog </p>
<p> It was after a full week of drifting along with the current that they came to the first big city. It was named Waterlog and was situated in a cove off to the side of the great Yudonke. The city seemed to go for as far as the eye can see, being home to millions. They tied up at the dock and while Ellim and Clarabelle took care of the Rivitir and her routine maintenance Captain Rosy and her crew set out to explore Waterlog. </p>
<p> The city was very drab, almost colorless, exuding a sense of foreboding. Checking his maps Rover told them the place names. Waterlog was situated on the high ground north of the cove, known as Badwa Cove, which was next to the giant bog named Dingle's Dab that occupied the western side of the cove. </p>
<p> A big poster on the dock told them they must register before entering the city. There were stiff fines for noncompliance. Capt. Rosy's party stopped at the Dock Office, which was the first place you passed when leaving the docks. They got registered and all that stuff as the talkative receptionist told them about Waterlog. </p>
<p> “We're proud of Dingle's Dab, our swamp,” she told them, “because to us it is so gosh-danged beautiful, and it is a pleasant swamp, you gotta admit, lots of tall reeds and secret waterways, homes of exotic fauna scattered here and there plus everything anyone ever needed comes from that swamp. We just love it.” She paused, handing Rosy the dock papers. </p>
<p> “Ah course, there is a bad side to the Dab, as we call it, and that's the swamp monster. Ol' Dingle. Every so often he comes a rampaging through the streets, causing a lot of upset, every time. Most the time he stays in the swamp though, and everything's fine.” She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “In fact, he runs the swamp. He's the big boss and everyone knows it, including the Lord King Dobble himself, hiding up there in Waterlog. People think that it was when Dobble and Ol' Dingle got into an argument over something was when Ol' Dingle would rampage. But no one knows for sure,” she finished with a bright smile. Rosy thanked her and they set out to see Waterlog. </p>
<p> They wanted first to go to the capitol building because it was the biggest and this Lord King fellow sounded interesting. The streets were narrow and damp, marshy in places, sometimes with wooden planks to get across. They could see the capitol with its dome and the gaudy Waterlog flag, which was bright blue with a fluorescent brown, red and orange log across it, flapping from its top but they couldn't get to it. Every street, well muddy lane that seemed to be going toward it somehow ended up taking them further away. </p>
<p> In frustration they entered what appeared to be a resting area with tables and benches and sat down at a large round table. A man came demanding to know what they wanted. </p>
<p> “We're trying to get to the capitol,” Rosy told him, “and we're just resting because we've looked and looked and we can't find it.” </p>
<p> He frowned then pulled out a chair and sat down with them. He sat, looking downward and scowling. Then he looked up and signaled to another young man who was passing by, “Pabbon,” he yelped, “we must have tea! Bring us tea Pabbon, for we are facing an existential threat.” </p>
<p> With wide, frightened eyes Pabbon hurried off, hopefully to fetch tea. The dour man continued looking down, frowning fiercely, concentrating. </p>
<p> “Uh, hello?” Rosy ventured. He looked up briefly and nodded with a glum look before bowing his head again. </p>
<p> “So, uh, I'm Rosy Rivitir,” Rosy spoke softly. He nodded again, then slowly brought his head up giving her a look that was somehow hopeless. </p>
<p> “This here's Rover,” Rosy continued. He gave Rover a blank look. </p>
<p> “And this is Brak and that's Jant,” she finished, looking expectantly at the somber man. </p>
<p> Just then the tea arrived. Pabbon served them expertly, and silently, leaving a tray of biscuits before hurrying off. </p>
<p>5. Rosy and her team hear what the somber man has to say. </p>
<p> “I'm glad to meet you all,” the somber man said dully, without inflection. “I'm . . .my name doesn't matter. I can tell you're not from these parts, maybe just visiting?” </p>
<p> “Well, yeah,” Rosy answered, “is that, I mean I hope it's okay?” </p>
<p> “I don't know,” he answered. “You see, we people of Waterlog, have been trying to get to the capitol for many years now.” He looked toward the capitol. “They send soldiers garrisoned in there and out by the Dab to collect taxes, high taxes, grab our boys for service and that's all, no other contact. We see big shipments arrive. Grabbed by the soldiers who hurry them in through their hidden and well-guarded back door, the only door nowadays, and then nothing. We have no contact with our King at all except to pay taxes and supply soldiers.” </p>
<p> “That sounds worrisome,” Rover said. </p>
<p> Rosy took a sip of the tea. It was a rich, piquant tea, quite strong but quite pleasant. “This is nice,” she said. “I don't think I've had it before.” </p>
<p> Now the man's eyes lit up. “No, if this is your first time here then I'm sure you haven't. The tea you're drinking is the famous DingleDab Tea, grown only in Dingle's Dab.” </p>
<p> Rover sat his cup down. “Swamp tea?” he asked. </p>
<p> “Ain't it grand?” the man answered, smiling proudly. “Plus, those cookies you ate? All from grains grown in the incomparable Dingle's Dab.” Rover looked at him with wide eyes. </p>
<p> “So, no one can get to the capitol?” Rosy asked. </p>
<p> His look became morose. “No,” he answered, “no one.” </p>
<p> “And you get no word at all from this Lord King Dobble?” </p>
<p> “No ma'am.” </p>
<p> “Well, we're going to have to look into this,” Rosy stated, looking at the crew, who were nodding in agreement. </p>
<p> They then engaged the man in conversation, trying to learn as much as they could. The man didn't notice when Rosy withdrew from the talk, sitting silently, seemingly meditating, as the crew continued asking questions. </p>
<p> {Zingellawabix?} Rosy sent mentally, as softly as she could so as to not jar him. </p>
<p> {Yes, Rosy, I hear you. I've listened to the discourse so far and from here it looks like this Dobble is either an anti-god demon or strongly influenced or controlled by one} </p>
<p> {Yes, it is what I think as well. I think I need to talk to the Lord King Dobble.} </p>
<p> {That seems the best move. I will be listening.} </p>
<p> Rosy resumed listening and asking questions until there was a lull. Then she asked, “So where's this back door?” </p>
<p> “There is no way you could get in that way, unless you were invited, and they won't take messages,” the man said, watching Rosy closely. She remained resolute. “But I see you're determined to try.” He shrugged. “Well, first you follow this boulevard in front of us,” he pointed outside. </p>
<p> “That's a boulevard?” Jant asked with wide eyes. </p>
<p> “Yes, ma'am, one of the nicer ones. Anyway you follow that 'til you come to twisted lane, about three streets down, then you turn left. You go on down 'til you see a big crossroad. Turn right onnit. It gonna be well traveled 'cause that's the road the soldiers use. That'll be you're main worry, ma'am, them soldiers until you get to the door. Then the soldiers and a whole lot more gonna be your worry.” </p>
<p> “Got it,” Rosy told him. “Okay team, let's get going.” She struck off down the boulevard with Rover, Brak and Jant following. The man watched with sad eyes that may have had a glint of hope in them. </p>
<p>6. Meeting the Lord King </p>
<p> Rosy and her crew are heading for the capitol's back door, apparently the only way in. Following the instructions of the moody man at the rest area, they came to a busy looking street, mainly by virtue of it being the best maintained street they'd seen yet. Well packed and even paved in spots, the street was currently deserted. Peering around the corner to the right Rosy could see the well-guarded back door in the distance. She noted the street's sides were boarded up so that it was a smooth wall on both sides, like a canyon, offering no hiding places. It was the same in the other direction. Looking upward she could see guards in towers posted every so often. Too often to sneak past. </p>
<p> “Okay team, follow me,” she announced, stepping out into the street and marching smartly toward the guards at the back door. When the guards saw Rosy and the crew they seemed startled, exchanging looks of alarm. Rosy marched right up to the what appeared to be the main guard, standing in front of the large wooden door that was visibly padlocked and bolted. </p>
<p> The guard stiffened and held what seemed like a projectile weapon from the mythical lands across his front, and yelled, “Halt!” </p>
<p> Rosy, being as close as she wanted to be, stopped, her crew arrayed behind her. “We're here to see the Lord King Dobble,” she announced. </p>
<p> The guard blinked a few times, as if what he was hearing was so preposterous it was unanswerable. Then he yelped, “Impossible! Dobble cannot . . . Dobble did not, I mean we weren't informed. No visitors.” </p>
<p> Rosy, wondering why the guard hadn't said Lord King, just Dobble, like a commoner, continued. “Ah, but you see, we did not come at the Lord King's behest, rather we are emissaries of King Umpalumpa the Great.” </p>
<p> The guard clearly had never heard of King Umpalumpa, who was in fact the king of a band of mushrooms far underground in another dimension, stared at her with worry. “You will wait,” he ordered, then he rushed over to a little hut, ducked inside and slammed the door. </p>
<p> Soon the guard came out and without a word unlocked the padlock and lifted the bolt. Slowly the big wooden door swung open and a voice inside loudly proclaimed, “The emissaries of King Umpalumpa may enter.” </p>
<p> They were greeted by an officious dark-elf who led them down a short hallway that opened to the spacious grounds of the capitol. No mud paths here. All the grounds were beautiful in a well-manicured sort of way, every flower and blade of grass in place, smooth paved walkways meandering under giant trees, all trim and neat. Curiously there were no visible groundskeepers. </p>
<p> The capitol building was like a castle and there was another huge wooden door to pass through. Then they were led down a long ornately decorated hallway with a high domed ceiling that ended in front of massive double doors. As they approached the doors swung open and an imperious voice spoke. </p>
<p> “Your majesty, the royal emissaries of the great King Umpalumpa.” </p>
<p> They approached the high throne and there sat Dr. Snarkey. Rosy just about yelped but kept her cool. It didn't seem as though Dr. Snarkey recognized them, but he was looking at them suspiciously. Rosy and her crew had been there when Dr. Snarkey and his troll army were defeated on Lillow's Farm, but she didn't think he'd seen her, although she was the one who'd wielded Zingellawabix. She hoped he hadn't seen her. It was possible. </p>
<p> “Greetings Lord King Dobble,” Rosy announced with a flourish, “we bring salutations from King Umpalumpa the Great!” </p>
<p> “Oh hey, gooda meetcha. I'm King Bubble, uh, also the great. I'm the boss here,” Dr. Snarkey told them in a flat voice without standing. He narrowed his eyes staring at them suspiciously for a moment, then asked in a whiny voice, “Okay, that's swell. Are we done?” </p>
<p> Suddenly the dark elf appeared. “Hurry, this way,” he hissed. He quickly led them back out. “Just leave your gifts in the foyer. Enjoy Waterlog!” And he was gone. They wandered out into the spacious grounds and sat at a table underneath a large and quite old shade tree. </p>
<p> “Well, that was weird,” Rosy told them. </p>
<p> “Yeah, it sure was,” Rover said, frowning. Then, looking around furtively, he whispered, “There was something awfully familiar about that Dobble character.” </p>
<p> “Yeah,” Rosy agreed, “it's 'cause it's not the Lord King Dobble, it's Dr. Snarkey. Remember? On Lillow's Farm?” </p>
<p> Rover looked at her with round eyes. “Oh yeah.” </p>
<p>7. Dr. Snarkey </p>
<p> Last year Dr. Snarkey had used an old castle in a swamp to build trolls. The swamp was on a farm, called Lillow's Farm, situated in the wilderness of southern Elvenstead. He then used the trolls to attack Lillow's Farm, preparatory to attacking Elvenstead and then the world. He was defeated by the witches, elves and heroes at Lillow's Farm that day with the culminating defeat brought by Zingellawabix, the magic wand who bound all the attackers, stopping the troll invasion. The witches shut down the troll factory and used the machinery to cure trolls by running it in reverse. </p>
<p> Ego is Dr. Snarkey's real name. Ego began his career selling advertising for a radio station. It was a rough station that nefarious sorts, people like the Brown Weasels, dark-elves, shysters and all the deplorables who were morally and ethically challenged, would naturally gravitate toward. Most of his audience were delusional and felt that they were better, smarter, and wiser than those around them. They tended to be in the ne'er-do-well class, temporarily of course, blaming others for their failures while arrogantly flaunting their imagined superiority. They were, in fact, the perfect audience for Ego. </p>
<p> Ego was born Egor Blat to a super-rich elf couple in south Elvenstead City. His father owned a fleet of waggals and his mother was a super-model until she got married. The Blat's had two children, Egor and Egad who were spoiled unmercifully. Egad went on to become a ne'er do well, who would surely have become a bum on the docks if it weren’t for his paltry share of their parent's money, after their mysterious deaths, which kept him going. Egore, on the other hand, was ambitious, tricking the foolish Egad and taking most of their inheritance. He used the money to party and live a lavish lifestyle, based in the indisputable fact that he was a superior and stable genius deserving of all the good that the world has to offer and more. </p>
<p> The money could have provided Egor and Egad both a comfortable living for the rest of their lives, instead it just provided a few years for Egor's high life. When the money inevitably ran out he began working anywhere'd hire him. He was a lackluster employee who tended to look down his nose at his fellow workers and with time even his bosses. After getting fired from every job he tried, he decided to go into crime, specifically the con man game. He figured he'd be good at it after how he'd played Egad, but again, keeping true to form, he wasn't. Egad was just too trusting and ultimately too uninterested in the ways of the world. He'd finally just decided to let Egor have the money. </p>
<p> But, after a lifetime of massive wealth Egor wasn't worth a thing. Nothing. He didn't appear to even have a soul according to people who looked into his eyes. They were invariably disconcerted by the lack of humanity they saw there. He began preaching on corners about how things oughta be, but his vision was a dystopian nightmare when examined. That's when a radio executive happened by. His station was financed by people who would like all taxes for the wealthy eliminated, the poor made into serfs and all minorities caged or run out of the country which fit perfectly with Egor's vision, except with Egor as wealthy, not poor. The executive hired him on the spot to sell advertising for the radio. This he was good at, for all he had to do was continue his own rant to the money people who, because of his position, would listen to him. These wealthy manipulators benefited by controlling the gullible radio audience this station attracted. </p>
<p> One day when an announcer called in sick, Egor took his place and the rest is history. Their unsavory radio audience loved Egor's rant. Soon after Egor became Ego. He was not even aware when he dropped the r, his concern being only self-gratification and the belittling of the small people trying to run the world around him. His cruelty became legendary. One day, right after he got on the air, Dr. Snarkey appeared and took over Ego, and the show. Ego was unaware of Dr. Snarkey's appearance and is quite content to stay that way, as long as his luxurious life continues. Dr. Snarkey became a super star overnight, intent on getting rich by bringing down civilization through the use of trolls and deplorables, who just loved him for it. </p>
<p>8. They made an awesome noise. </p>
<p> “Well, team, I don't think it makes much sense hanging around here,” Rosy told the crew. “I mean they're gonna figure out about Umpalumpa or that we know Dobble's a fake. Either way, it wouldn't do to get caught here.” </p>
<p> “No Ma'am,” Brak replied. “I think it'd be good if we ran,” and he took off running which Rosy thought was odd for a hero, until she saw Rover and Jant behind him, also running, so without another thought, she took off after them, running as fast as she could, which was fortunate because the thugs that Brak had spotted running frantically out the capitol door had spotted them and were soon at the spot where Rosy and the crew had been sitting, and were now giving chase, but still a goodly ways behind. </p>
<p> The guards at the entry gate and posted over the lane were all bamboozled by this change of direction. Their defensive stance was to the front not behind and Rosy and her crew were able to dash through without mishap and disappeared into the twisting lanes and ditches of Waterlog. It was useful that the people of Waterlog, seeing what was happening, quickly came to Rosy and the crew's aid. The people knew something was wrong at the capitol. </p>
<p> When Rosy and the crew were safely hidden in a basement, she found out more. This fake Lord King Dobble was using all the people's taxes to secretly amass a large army on the other side of Dingle's Dab. All the young men were either hiding or conscripted, and the King's patrols, like the ones looking for Rosy right now, kept the people subjugated and afraid. </p>
<p> “I'm going to call Zingellawabix,” Rosy told the crew and they kept quiet. </p>
<p> {Zingellawabix?} Rosy sent telepathically. </p>
<p> {Yes, Rosy. I've been listening and I know that the Lord King Dobble is actually Dr. Snarkey, who we know is an anti-god.} </p>
<p> {Yes, and he knows who we are. We've just escaped from the capitol and are hiding from the King's patrols. Snarkey's building a secret army down by that swamp.} </p>
<p> {Then we must move. Do you think you can get to the Rivitir? If not, I have established a rapport with Clarabelle and I'm sure she could bring the Rivitir to you.} </p>
<p> {Let me check with the crew.} </p>
<p> I didn't much care for the idea of our autopilot directing a rescue mission, especially in hostile territory. But I couldn't think of any alternatives. I filled in the others on what I'd said to Zingellawabix and asked what they thought. </p>
<p> “Clarabelle is good,” Brak said, thoughtfully. “I do think she'd get here. Thing is, how do we get to her when she's here. There's just narrow lanes that I could see, where would she land?” </p>
<p> “I wish we had a transporter beam like on that famous TV show where they just say, ah beam me up!” Jant said, with a grin. </p>
<p> “I think they needed a scotty,” Rover said, “but it would be cool. Zap, just like that and you're back on board.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, that does sound cool, except we don't have a transporter beam,” Rosy said. </p>
<p> “Nothing even close,” Brak added. </p>
<p> “I wonder if we could get on the roof?” Rover asked. </p>
<p> “That's a great idea! I'll find out,” Rosy answered. She climbed the stairs to check with the residents. When she returned, she told them, “We can, but we'll be totally exposed doing it since it's a ladder leaning against the house. They say there's a lot of patrols still.” </p>
<p> “So I guess we wait till it gets dark,” Brak said. </p>
<p> Rosy nodded agreement and they settled in. They waited until midnight then they climbed up on the roof before calling Zingellawabix and Clarabelle to bring the Rivitir. As soon as the Rivitir was overhead they had her descend until they could climb on board but before she was low enough a ring of spotlights surrounding them flashed on. The Rivitir stopped descending and hovered about half a meter above their heads. Despite being blinded by the bright lights Rosy could make out dark elves, orcs, and weasels, clearly members of the notorious Brown Weasels, surrounding them, standing everywhere between the lights, jeering, pointing and laughing. </p>
<p> Suddenly Dr. Snarkey appeared with an unsavory looking faerie by his side. “So!” Dr. Snarkey screeched, “You horrible scoundrels are trying to escape without leaving me a gift?” </p>
<p> “That's right,” Rosy replied. “Because you're not the Lord King Dobble.” </p>
<p> “What?” Dr. Snarkey barked. “How did, uh, wait. Haven't I seen you somewhere before?” He peered at Rosy suspiciously. </p>
<p> “That's the one had the wand, back on Lillow's Farm,” the faerie told him. </p>
<p> “The wand!” Dr. Snarkey screamed, “Oh my heavens people, run!” He was already leading by example and his confused minions followed, but it was too late and they ran into an invisible wall, a wall like steel so that they tended to clack and clang when they met it, being suitably armed and armored, which created a monstrous cacophony said to be heard kilometers away. Certainly the secret army garrisoned south of the city heard it. </p>
<p>9. Setting them free. </p>
<p> Most of the soldiers in the garrison were conscripts from the streets of Waterlog and the surrounding countryside. The people have sent many delegations to petition the Lord King Dobble and demand to know why so many young people were being taken by the army. Was war imminent? The people should know if it is, but every delegation was turned away, unable to even access the capitol grounds. </p>
<p> Meanwhile the young people from the city and the countryside conscripted into the garrison were appalled at their leadership. The commanders were all orcs, Brown Weasels, dark elves or even trolls and not a one had the common sense of a gnat. Disgusted and fearful, the conscripts were too frightened to break away, instead spending their days in mindless military drills and abuse. </p>
<p> Today while marching in the field they heard a terrible clamor from the capitol which was beyond their sight. Everyone stopped and stared in the capitol's direction, frozen in disbelief. Then they saw some figures on brooms fly upward and stop, slowly returning to earth. </p>
<p> “What the hale?” screamed one of the commanders, a tall and grizzled orc. </p>
<p> “Form ranks troopers!” the highest commander, a dark elf with two weasels in tow, yelled as he came running out of the headquarters building. “The capitol's been attacked! We're at war!” Then he ran toward the front but suddenly veered, going instead toward the tall, grizzled orc, and promptly stuck to him. </p>
<p> “What the hale?” the tall grizzled orc yelled with wide eyes as the high commander stuck to his belly like a . . . Then he kept screaming that exact same question over and over as every commander of the garrison came running and sticking to him. Many of them were asking the same question. The troops stared in disbelief, unsure what if anything they should do. Anyone trying to take control quickly found themselves stuck to this large group, all screaming “What the hale?” in dozens of different voices, all stuck to a tall, grizzled orc whose head rose above the others, marking the center. The conscript soldiers could only stare in disbelief before slowly coming to the realization that they were free. Somehow these slave drivers were stuck, quite solidly stuck. Then with laughter and whoops of joy they ran off, returning to their homes throughout the land. </p>
<p> Meanwhile at the capitol the brigands trying to escape were all captured, bound by the magic wand, Zingellawabix, and placed in a large cage. The real Lord King Dobble and his court were found in dungeons in the castle's basement and were released then returned to their rightful places, saying they'd do better next time. </p>
<p> There were parades, music and dancing. A drab, humorless society has come to life, and what a jubilant life it was! Rosy and the crew were awarded medals and certificates of wondrous gratitude, then amid cheering crowds they boarded the Rivitir, again a river boat, and floated away, down the great world river, the Yudonke. </p>
<p> At the next IDT Gate they transferred back to their own dimension. They loved floating the Yudonke and surely there are many more adventures to be had there, but they were all a little nervous about this new technology and wanted to make sure it could get them home. It did and they are now back cruising their natural world, enjoying its many side tracks and adventures. They've talked of going back to the great Yudonke but Rosy had a hunch, and she believes Brak and Jant do too, that somehow Rover will get them back to the Yudonke without using Bradco's IDT gates. Somehow he'll do it, without meaning to and without any idea how he did it, but somehow he'll do it.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/71242612022-12-16T18:56:26-07:002023-01-08T05:03:27-07:00A Deep Inner Yearning For Wondrous Things - By Rosy<p> It began in the meadow of a farm, far off in the southern wilderness of Elvenstead. Something had stirred, awakened perhaps, that began to charge and shape the land with magical energy, empowering it so that it began to sparkle and glow. Next came the small folk, faeries and such, pixies of course and others all magical, all thriving in that glow, all striving to be their best selves, elves and witches and gnomes, all came to be here and all together they made a very fine glow. </p>
<p> The able witch Aggy, just up and stretching, gazed out her window with love and appreciation. Soon to the season of scary tales and cozy nights, she thought with satisfaction. She could see her sisters, the able witches Tenner and Gretta, already out in the garden puttering about. The able witch Nellie would be in the kitchen soon, maybe already, setting the hearth for breakfast. She hurried her morning ablutions, then down the steps to help. Tenner and Gretta will be along soon with a basket of fresh vegetables and herbs. </p>
<p> These four witches lived like nuns perhaps, each in their own devotional spaces, each reaching for the ineffable in their own way, like witches do and each joyfully thankful, in love with life and with each other. It was a miracle, something Aggy loved, that brought these four descendants of the four original witches who made the farm, together. The farm is flourishing again and magic is afoot. </p>
<p> Their home, Witchhaven, is in Shady Glen, about half a klick north of the Swamp of Doom and about a klick west of the meadow, the focal point of the farm, called Lillow's Farm after one of the founders. It was in the Swamp of Doom that the mad Doctor Snarkey set up his troll machine, making trolls to attack the farm, which they did, in cahoots with the evil Brad Puffup, CEO of Bradco Inc. and arch-criminal. Puffup and Snarkey were set to rule all the known world using Snarkey's troll armies and Puffup's orc armies, but they were foiled by the farm's magical forces and the magic wand Zingellawabix. </p>
<p> Aggy mused as she worked. Now the farm has Snarkey's troll machine which, when operated in reverse, can unmake trolls. Even trolls made in Joten by Grimn-leapers, even these can be unmade with Doctor Snarkey's machine. Spike and some of the elves who work in the meadow have figured out how to duplicate this machine and we're now able to supply various outposts in southern Elvenstead with their own machines, plus Spike and his elves are teaching others how to make them. Maybe someday they'll be in all of Elvenstead. Perhaps the troll menace might finally be coming to an end. Except there will still be Grimn-leapers. </p>
<p> After breakfast and cleanup Aggy went to their back yard. Like most yards in Elvenstead it was open so anyone could enter or pass through, although the street in front offered much easier passage. It was difficult to tell anyone's yard from anyone else's. Aggy sat in one of the chairs they had behind the manor and settled back with a pipe full of Tenner's excellent weed. Soon Gretta and Nellie joined her. Tenner, who was the best farmer in the coven and tended to be outdoors a lot, was out in the fields somewhere. </p>
<p> Soon Mistle from next door joined them along with a couple of faeries, Sparley and Jazzip. They sat in companionable silence for a while, smoking and enjoying the beautiful autumn morning. </p>
<p> “Aggy, they're sending us too many trolls and we can't process them fast enough,” Spike huffed, appearing out of nowhere. </p>
<p> “Huh? Wazzat? Too many trolls?” Aggy asked calmly. </p>
<p> “That's right,” Spike replied, nodding. “Too many and they're milling about, shoving and fighting each other in a pen we built but I don't think it'll hold much longer, especially with new trolls coming in all the time.” </p>
<p> “Dang,” Aggy said, sitting up. She looked at Spike, “So, what should we do?” </p>
<p> “I dunno. We're on the verge of being overrun by trolls and none of our spells can bind more than three trolls at a time.” </p>
<p> “Dang,” Aggy repeated. She looked at the group around her and told them, “We need Zingellawabix.” </p>
<p> They nodded agreement and began to zing, “Ziiinnnnngggg, ziiinnnnngggg, ziiinnnnngggg,” they zang, all zinging, they closed their eyes and zang, zang zing. Or something like that. Then they waited. Soon a flying saucer appeared, then it circled around and landed in the open area beyond the chairs and benches. The hatch opened and Captain Rivitir stuck her head out. </p>
<p> “Rover, I don't think this is Mish,” she said without looking around. </p>
<p> From inside the saucer Rover replied, “That's impossible, Ma'am. Just look at this map. It's clearly Mish and . . .” </p>
<p> Captain Rivitir saw us as we'd gotten up and were approaching. “No it's not,” she interrupted Rover, “this is Lillow's Farm and here is Aggy and Gretta and a bunch of others. Gosh, how are you guys?” Just then Nellie arrived carrying a basket of herbs. “Oh, and here's Nelly! It's great to see you! All of you!” </p>
<p> Rover stuck his head out, “Spike?” he asked, then he dashed out, his tail wagging so fast it wagged his entire behind. </p>
<p> Spike, his tail also wagging fast, yipped, “Hey buddy! How ya doing?” Then they leaped and dashed around each other the way dogs do, sniffing here and there, both wearing big smiles, laughing and barking. </p>
<p> Captain Rosy Rivitir of the AV Rivitir, which currently looked like a flying saucer, had a crew of three. Rover was already out and he was followed by the heroes Brak and Jant, who were the rest of the crew. They were now greeting old friends and being introduced to the others. Soon everyone settled in with tea in Witchhaven's beautiful backyard. In the distance were the fields all ready for winter. </p>
<p> Rosy was sitting by Rover and Spike listening to their seemingly endless reminiscences of the old days. She especially liked hearing the stories about Lillow and her adventures. During a loll she asked Rover, “I do love being here on this magical farm,” Rover nodded agreement, clearly happy to be here. “but I can't help but wonder what brought us here?” </p>
<p> He looked thoughtful. “Well, I thought we were going to Mish, so I dunno. I haven't seen or heard of anything that needs our help, so I dunno.” </p>
<p> Aggy, sitting nearby, overheard and spoke up, “Oh, yeah, I shoulda told you right off. We called you.” </p>
<p> “I didn't get the call,” Jant, the Rivitir's communications specialist, said. </p>
<p> “No, no, we didn't call that way,” Aggy said. “We called by zinging for Zingellawabix.” </p>
<p> “Oh? Well, how about that,” Rosy said with a smile, shaking her head. “So, you need Zingellawabix?” </p>
<p> “Yeah. We got a troll problem,” Spike answered. </p>
<p> “Howzat?” Rosy asked. “I mean, I thought we'd settled the troll problem here last summer.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, we did,” Aggy replied. “But now we got this troll machine that'll unmake trolls and, well, word got out. People are bringing trolls here to unmake and we're getting overwhelmed.” </p>
<p> “Yeah,” Rosy told her with a laugh, “Zingellawabix can handle that. He can handle any amount of trolls near as I can tell.” </p>
<p> And so, for the next week, Rosy and Zingellawabix bound and unbound trolls for processing while Spike and Rover, along with Brak and Jant and several village elves built new troll machines. Brak even devised a way to prevent the machines from being used to make trolls so that they can only unmake them, which set Aggy's mind at ease. </p>
<p> “That was my worry,” she affirmed, smiling her approval. The four witches kept the operation working smoothly and soon they were caught up in it again. </p>
<p> “With these new machines,” Spike told them, referring to the troll machines he and Rover and their crew had built, “we'll never have overflow again, no matter how many they bring.” </p>
<p> “Gee,” Rosy commented, “Sure was a lot of trolls. Is there always this many in Elvenstead?” </p>
<p> “I don't think so,” Aggy said, looking questioningly at the others. </p>
<p> “No,” Spike told them, “there's definitely more trolls now.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, that's what I thought,” Rosy said, nodding thoughtfully. </p>
<p> “I've sent a few technicians out to install the one-way device on the earlier machines they gave out,” Brak told her, “so none of them can be used to make trolls anymore.” </p>
<p> “Good thinking, Brak,” Rosy said with a smile. “So you know where they're all at?” </p>
<p> “Yep, Nelly kept a good record.” </p>
<p> “So I guess we just wait and see what happens,” Rosy told her crew. </p>
<p> They took the Rivitir over to the meadow at the farm's center and settled in. The next morning three dragons landed by them just as Rosy and Rover were coming out. The dragons introduced themselves as Brak and Jant joined them. They were all thrilled to meet dragons as none of them had ever seen a dragon close up before much less spoken with one, or three. Rosy was amazed at their beauty, their iridescent coloring and the way they flashed in the light. </p>
<p> “I'm Tranador,” said one. </p>
<p> “I'm Fillop,” said another. </p>
<p> “I'm Maxidendal,” said the third. </p>
<p> It was exciting to meet dragons! Rosy and her crew had seen them before, at a distance of course, but they were rare in Elvenstead. Strangely enough one of the reasons they had for going to Mish, the dragon homeland, was to see the dragons, and here they were seeing them in Elvenstead! I wonder if we'll see faeries now? Rosy thought with a laugh. That was something else they'd seen little of. Soon the witches and several elves joined them. </p>
<p> They were all having a pleasant visit when suddenly Gretta yelled, “Here they come!” </p>
<p> Everyone turned to look at what appeared to be a giant glittering cloud heading their way. Rosy stared, transfixed. When it was closer, she could see that it was a swarm of some sort and that it was coming right at them. Frightened, she looked around at the others and, except for her crew who seemed as frightened as she was, they were all watching calmly, smiling with bright eyes. She looked back at the swarm and now realized they were faeries! Thousands, maybe millions of faeries and they were going straight to the dragons, who were smiling with delight. Soon the three dragons were covered with faeries and the entire area began pulsing with glittering faerie dust as they flitted and danced about making brilliant rainbow bubbles that popped with bursts of fresh faerie dust. </p>
<p> Seeing Rosy's look of amazement Aggy said, “The faeries love the dragons. I don't know why, they just do and the dragons, for the most part, love the faeries.” </p>
<p> Some forest elves, who had been playing music quietly, almost imperceptibly, around them began to appear and the music slowly got louder, then people started dancing until soon there was a maelstrom of dancing bodies, flashing lights, lively music and colors beyond belief. </p>
<p> The next morning, after partying all the rest of that day and well into the night, Rosy and her crew bid their hosts a loving adieu and boarded their flying saucer. They were looking forward to a long rest. </p>
<p> “Anywhere you want to go is fine, Rover,” Rosy told Rover and soon they were on their way. </p>
<p> Back on the farm Aggy and the witches continued the unmaking of trolls, and after a time their numbers finally began decreasing. Maybe the Grimn-leapers will quit sending them, Aggy thought as she helped process the latest batch of trolls. There was a lot of work to do to help the poor confused ex-trolls coming out of the machines. Through it all she and the others kept the farm, harvesting crops and collecting faerie dust and jeewizium to maintain the farm's magic. As always, the immortal Spike watched serenely over the meadow. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/71009852022-11-12T10:28:39-07:002022-11-12T10:28:39-07:00Rover Has A Scare - By Rosy<p> Well, we've landed and we're all anxious to find out where. Even Rover, our navigator, who can be blasé about location, seemed interested. Our ace pilot Brak said it might be forest, or perhaps prairie or it could be desert. But he was pretty sure it wasn't water. He said it all happened so quick who could tell anything? </p>
<p> “I couldn't,” Rover said. </p>
<p> “Nothing on the radio except the usual noisy chatter,” Jant, our communications specialist, reported. “Radar says we're somewhere, though.” </p>
<p> “Well, that's encouraging,” I said, heading for the door. “Shall we look outside?” </p>
<p> The heroes Brak and Jant were on it, “Yes, ma'am,” they both snapped, wearing wide smiles. They really love adventure. </p>
<p> Rover held back, peering over their shoulders. “Let's do this,” he said. </p>
<p> I gave him a quick look which he didn't return then I opened the door and was presented a beautiful sunny day, with large copses of trees spaced about in a half desert half prairie setting. </p>
<p> “Looks to be forest in a prairie desert,” I said, smiling at the pleasant scene. “Good job Brak.” But Brak and Jant were already doing a perimeter run, becoming aware of everything in every direction, like heroes do, while Rover peered silently from inside the Rivitir. The air was dry with a hint of pine and sagebrush. </p>
<p> “All clear Captain,” Brak reported when they returned. </p>
<p> “Thanks, Brak,” I said Looking back at Rover I asked, “You coming?” </p>
<p> He was in the doorway holding a map, first looking at it, then at the hills in the distance. “Hmmm, wazzat?” he sputtered. </p>
<p> “You coming?” </p>
<p> “Huh? Oh, I uh, well, I think maybe I'll take a look at these maps some more, maybe figure out where we're at.” Something was on his mind. </p>
<p> “Okay,” I answered. “It'd be good to know. Meanwhile we're going to take a look around.” </p>
<p> He looked up abruptly, then with wide eyes said, “Don't go far.” </p>
<p> “What's up Rover?” I asked, turning back to face him. </p>
<p> “Nothing. Really, nothing, it's just that . . .” </p>
<p> “Just that what?” I urged sternly. </p>
<p> “Well, does this look like that?” He handed me a map with a small picture in the corner of hills, like the hills we could see. I looked at the picture, then back at the hills, then back at the picture. </p>
<p> “Hmmm, there is a resemblance, let's see, hmmm, yes, there.” I pointed at the hills. “See that peak that sort of looks like an open beak pointing upward?” He nodded. “Well, there it is in the picture. Same peak. Gotta be.” I looked at the bottom of the map at the legend. It said, Home range of the Giant Hickory Horned Devils. “Huh? What's this?” I asked. </p>
<p> “What's what?” Rover replied quickly, peering at our surroundings from inside. </p>
<p> “What's this about the home range of the Giant Hickory Horned Devil?” </p>
<p> “Oh, I didn't notice. Does it say that? Thing is, I'm not sure we're there, I mean if that peak . . .” </p>
<p> “Uh-huh,” I interrupted, “that peak over there that's in the picture? Is that the peak you mean?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, uh, well, if that peak is the same, well then, if it is that is, well, this could, uh, well it likely could be the home of the Giant Hickory Horned Devils. If that is the peak.” </p>
<p> I looked again at the picture. It was the peak. “So what're these Giant Hickory Horned Devils?” I asked. Now I was looking around. Where did Brak and Jant go? I felt a stab of worry. </p>
<p> “I dunno,” Rover said. </p>
<p> I began screaming, “Brak! Jant!” but there was no reply. </p>
<p> “But they sure don't sound good,” Rover finished with a worried look. </p>
<p> “Huh? Brak and Jant don't sound good?” I asked. “What do you mean?” </p>
<p> “No, the Giant Hickory Horned Devils. They don't sound good.” </p>
<p> They didn't sound good and I was silent. I looked again at the peak, then the picture, then the legend. No, this didn't sound good. I stepped closer to the open door. Then I noticed Brak and Jant approaching in the distance. They were walking with some curious creatures, big as donkeys but shaped like worms. They easily kept apace of Brak and Jant and seemed to be having a lively conversation. </p>
<p> “Here they come,” I said. </p>
<p> Rover, who couldn't see the approaching figures, shrieked. I watched with fascination as they got near. The creatures were large caterpillars with horns! And they were talking with Brak and Jant, apparently joking as Brak and Jant were both laughing. </p>
<p> “Hey Captain,” Brak called as they arrived. “Look who we met.” He gestured at three big caterpillars, all with horns who seemed to be smiling at me. “That's Henry and Florence,” he pointed to the end two. </p>
<p> “Just call us Hank and Flo,” Henry said. </p>
<p> “And that's Edmonk,” pointing to the third. </p>
<p> “Nice to meet you,” I said smiling, “I'm Captain Rosy of the AV Rivitir.” I pointed at the Rivitir. I looked around for Rover who stuck his head out and shrieked again. </p>
<p> “And that's Rover,” I said. </p>
<p> “Curious bark,” Flo commented. </p>
<p> “Curious dog,” I agreed. </p>
<p> Rover stepped cautiously out, watching the caterpillars closely. “Uh, hello,” he said quietly. “You guys live here?” </p>
<p> “Yes, this is our home,” Edmonk replied, smiling proudly. It was very beautiful country and the day was pleasant. </p>
<p> Rover looked around with wide eyes. “You aren't afraid of the devils?” he asked. </p>
<p> “Devils?” Brak questioned. </p>
<p> “Oh, I know,” Edmonk laughed. “It's what they call us, because of our horns I think.” </p>
<p> “You're the devils?” Rover asked with a stunned expression. </p>
<p> “That's right,” Edmonk grinned, “we're the Giant Hickory Horned Devils!” </p>
<p> “Wow!” Jant said. </p>
<p> “I told you they were cool,” Brak murmured behind her. Rover could only stare. </p>
<p> “Gosh, that's an awesome name,” I said, admiring their horns. “Sounds a little dangerous though, sort of scary, eh Rover?” </p>
<p> “Huh?” Rover huffed. “I uh, well yeah, now you mention it there is a certain ominous sound to the name.” </p>
<p> “We took the name years ago,” Flo told us, “to keep tourists away. It worked fine at first, and for a quite a long while really, but then we began to feel lonely.” </p>
<p> “We're gladda see anyone nowadays,” Hank observed. </p>
<p> Rover nodded, “Your name didn't bother me,” he said proudly. Then after a pointed silence, he added, “well, okay maybe a little but I am a professional navigator, you know, and well trained in cartography. I'm certainly used to ominous names, means nothing, most the time just a name.” He looked around. “Right?” </p>
<p> “Yes, of course Rover,” I answered with a smile. </p>
<p> We spent a marvelous couple of days visiting the Devils. They told us they were transitional people, to become something much greater than their current beautifully horned and spiked caterpillar selves. They will become moths! </p>
<p> “We will fly!” Flo told us enthusiastically. She was eager to teach us the ways of the Devils. “We will soar across the skies like eagles,” she crowed, “our formations will be tight, our dexterity unbelievable, we will fly like nothing before!” </p>
<p> It was an exciting future, that's for sure. The Giant Hickory Horned Devils were a pleasant people with a brilliant future. We had an enjoyable stay seeing all the caterpillar hangouts and trying the exotic caterpillar food. Caterpillar music is not what you'd expect and when they dance? Each caterpillar dances like a separate conga line. </p>
<p> Hank, Flo and Edmonk saw us off after our fun-filled stay. What great caterpillars! After promising to stop in if we're ever this way again, Rover gave Brak some numbers, coordinates probably, and we took off, excited and curious as to where we might end up next. It's great to be moving again, I thought, sitting proudly in my Captain's chair, totally in charge. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/70831112022-10-17T12:14:04-07:002022-10-17T12:14:04-07:00The Infinity Hallway - By Rosy<p> On a day full of magic, in the year of surcease, or so it was hoped, we embarked on the adventure of the Infinity Hallway. There has always been that closed door, a door rarely mentioned or admitted, never even really seen though it's always been there. Just there, just so. Beyond perception and beyond thought, hidden in obscure disbelief. This then is the door whose secrets we set forth to unlock. </p>
<p> I knew I'd find it on the first page, probably mentioned in the first paragraph, but more likely to be in the second, and that was just where it appeared. In all its inane posturing, there it was, {The Door} the very door itself. I called my team. </p>
<p> I'm Captain Rosy and my team is the A Team! Gosh. Well, I just always wanted to say that. I mean it sounds really cool, right? But in actuality we're adventurers from the All Vehicle Rivitir so we're probably Rivinauts, or maybe Riviteers. Anyway I took the A from All Vehicle and I thought A Team, you know? But my crew wears the title unenthusiastically, claiming it has connotations to an old, cheesy television program where escaped criminals foil nefarious scams. </p>
<p> So, for now, they're just the crew again. The crew then are Rover, navigator and my second in command, Brak, our pilot and Jant who runs the radio and other electronic stuff. Brak and Jant are twins who grew up in the Heroes Я Us Collective and are professional, and quite probably fully licensed, heroes. </p>
<p> Having discovered {The Door}, we were poised for adventure, ready to face the unknown. We knew the Infinity Hallway was behind {The Door} and we were determined to explore its secrets. We just had to get past {The Door}. </p>
<p> First, I blasted it with my ray gun, then Rover tried the knob. Brak battered it with his indomitable hero shoulders and Jant administered advanced karate moves, all to no avail. {The Door} stood firm, plain and plainly unmoving. We tried everything we could think of until finally, in desperation, Jant cried out, “Door! Please let us by!” {The Door} opened. Before us stretched the Infinity Hallway. </p>
<p> We stood unmoving and stared, silently pondering this endless passage. The Hallway is wide, about three meters and perhaps three and a half tall in the center, because the ceiling is curved making it seem more like a tunnel than a hallway. It is all a featureless brown, seemingly forever. We have provisions for a few months and about a week's worth of water. </p>
<p> Brak looked at me and I nodded the okay. With Brak and Jant in the lead we embarked. Rover and I stayed close behind. We have packed flashlights and torches but it appears we won't need them as the Hallway is diffusely lit. We are unable to discern the source of this light, which is not very bright, keeping us in a sort of perpetual dusk. </p>
<p> After about an hour and a half of steady travel I was about to call for a break when I noticed the hall was darker ahead of us. We proceeded slowly, cautiously, to investigate this darker area. When we got there it lit up showing a large room with couches and tables. There was even a stove and a sink with running water. We spent about an hour or so there. Everything was so nice I was hesitant to leave. We may never find another spot as nice, but we needed to move on. We had adventuring to do. </p>
<p> As we walked on, I was thinking about the location of the Hallway. Today we accessed it by using {The Door} that was hidden in the second paragraph. Years ago Lillow accessed the Hallway by nearly being dead in the cosmic ocean and finding a giant turnip sticking up out of it with a doorway and steps leading down to the Hallway. She followed it back to the Darnalong stump and the lobby, seemingly where the Hallway ends. At least that time. Anyway the lobby's door is in the stump behind the Golly Orchard where the Darnalong's lived, giving easy access to the meadow. But then I thought, what if she'd gone the other way? </p>
<p> “She'd probably still end up in the meadow,” Rover stated. </p>
<p> “Wait, what?” I sputtered. “How'd you know what I was . . .” </p>
<p> “You mean like a big loop?” Brak asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah,” Rover agreed. “It'd be like a loop. A circular loop in the Infinity Hallway to accommodate a particular need.” </p>
<p> “So it's like the Hallway responds to thoughts?” Jant asked. </p>
<p> “More to needs, I think,” Rover replied. “I mean, it's sort of like a deep emotional need that's maybe stronger than just thoughts, so it gets heard better.” </p>
<p> “Makes sense,” Jant said with a dreamy smile. “We shape the Hallway according to our emotions.” </p>
<p> “Strong emotions,” Rover stated. </p>
<p> We walked in silence for a while. I was somewhat bemused because it was like they'd heard my thoughts. Suddenly I began to feel a little claustrophobic. Was the Hallway deep underground? I glanced at the ceiling. Soon we could see what appeared to be sunlight ahead. I hurried, feeling a sense of relief at the sight. We emerged into a broad grassy bowl surrounded by forest. It was so beautiful, so idyllic that it took my breath away. There was a fine little river flowing by and several rock lined pools of hot, warm then cool water from a hot spring mixing with the river. We were soon luxuriating in the pools, having walked all day. </p>
<p> After a good soak we set up camp on the edge of the grassy bowl, near the Hallway, which was the nicest spot by far to camp in. There was lots of dry wood around and we had a roaring campfire as the sun set. I didn't recognize any of the star patterns but the night sky was glorious. Curiously this place seems to have two moons, neither like the earth's moon. After a hot supper we spread our blankets and stretched out, watching the stars in that strange sky. </p>
<p> Morning arrived, her golden strands embracing us, pulling us awake. We all awoke at pretty much the same time feeling quite rested. Again I was loathe to leave this spot. It was so perfect that we were almost giddy. But one last dip in the ponds and we must be on our way. The entrance to the Hallway was quite apparent on the far side, being exactly like the one we'd left yesterday, behind us. We had merely to trek across the grassy bowl. </p>
<p> Brak took the lead with me behind, then Jant, then Rover. We went single file as a narrow trail had appeared just after we started. I was surprised I hadn't noticed it before because it crossed the river a short ways down from the hot springs. There were well placed steppingstones so we didn't get our feet wet in the crossing. Then we hiked up the other side of the grassy bowl and we were there. Before entering we stopped and took a long look back at the big grassy bowl and our campsite on the other side, next to the river. </p>
<p> Wow. What a place. I wondered if we'd keep finding wonderful places and things as we continued, then I wondered why we'd had so much good fortune this far. It's been like a luxury vacation, a walking vacation with more successes than we'd ever dreamed of, but not a drop of the danger or suspense we'd imagined we'd need to face. </p>
<p> This time I took the lead as we continued down the very familiar Hallway, although there was plenty of room across. Brak and Jant lingered, admiring the lush and mysterious grassy bowl then turned and caught up with Rover who was following me from a couple meters behind. They seemed uneasy about leaving the grassy bowl and I understood completely, because I felt it too. But we soldiered on, keeping to the plan of exploring as far as we could down the Infinity Hallway before having to turn back. </p>
<p> Every time we needed a break a rest area would appear. When we walked the way was easy. Evenings we'd arrive at comfortable accommodations, sometimes beautiful campsites on strange worlds, sometimes luxurious rooms with comfortable beds or cozy little cabins. Clean linen. Everything was so perfect my suspicion's grew. I mean this doesn't happen in real life, this incessant good fortune, these constantly comfortable settings, maybe once in a while but not like this. Normally some blah or even bad things happen every so often. </p>
<p> “Yeah, I been thinking that too,” Rover muttered. </p>
<p> “Feels almost like walking into some sort of trap,” Brak remarked. </p>
<p> I could only gape. How'd they know what I was thinking? I stopped and they stopped too, the four of us forming a circle facing each other. </p>
<p> “I can't believe you all are hearing my thoughts,” I stated. </p>
<p> Rover shrugged, “Yeah, well we can. Thing is, whatya think we should do?” </p>
<p> “We can't really stop, can we?” Jant stated. “I mean it’s either forward or back.” She glanced uncertainly back from where we'd come. </p>
<p> “Forward, I say,” Brak threw in, “I mean it's the only way we'll find out what's going on.” </p>
<p> “If we can find out,” Rover said, looking at the Hallway ahead of us. </p>
<p> “What do you mean?” Jant asked. </p>
<p> “I don't know,” Rover replied with a worried look. “Just a feeling, I guess.” </p>
<p> Still somewhat bemused I asked, “So, forward?” </p>
<p> “Yeah,” Rover answered. </p>
<p> Brak and Jant took off down the hall with Rover and me following. It wasn't long before our worst fears began to be realized. As we walked something took hold of our backpacks, all at the same time, and lifted us up almost to the ceiling. We dangled there for a while before we finally wiggled out and let the packs go. As soon as we hit the floor the packs disappeared, leaving us with nothing but the clothes we were wearing. We were stranded deep inside the Infinity Hallway. </p>
<p> “We can't go forward with our expectations being so low,” I told them. </p>
<p> “It's like we get what we expect,” Jant said. </p>
<p> “Exactly,” I agreed. “We started with high hopes and lots of good fortune, a lovely trek that was only dashed when we became suspicious.” </p>
<p> “So whadda we do?” Rover asked. </p>
<p> “Happy thoughts?” Jant suggested. No one responded to this and I could tell they were skeptical. I was. </p>
<p> “So where did we hope the Hallway would take us?” I asked. </p>
<p> “To answers,” Brak said. </p>
<p> “To the source of the answers, to the source,” Jant said quietly. </p>
<p> “To the source,” I echoed. </p>
<p> We began walking again, this time in a decidedly different frame of mind. Somehow, I was not surprised when we rounded a corner and there stood the AV Rivitir, our home. Ellim, our service bot, was waiting with hot tea and biscuits and Zingellawabix was humming softly on the mantle. I looked around, smiling. “Gosh Dorothy!” I gushed, feeling like other heroines who came home to deeper understandings. “We are and always have been the source, with all the answers within because we are the Infinity Hallway.” I posed heroically. </p>
<p> “Huh? Who's Dorothy?” Rover asked. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/70596002022-09-13T14:38:59-07:002022-09-13T14:38:59-07:00The Magic Wand - By Rosy<p>One: The AV Rivitir - - - - - - - </p>
<p> My name is Rosy Rivitir and I am the captain of the All-Vehicle Rivitir, a craft that can go anywhere. My crew has three members: Rover, our navigator, Brak, our pilot and Jant, our communications specialist. </p>
<p> Today we have landed in the southern wilderness of Elvenstead. There is an ancient farm nearby whose meadow is said to have miraculous powers. It is a beautiful place and I wondered what brought us here. We gathered in front of the Rivitir's door and breathed in the fresh air and the smell of a verdant country. </p>
<p> “Gosh, would you just look at this pastoral landscape!” Jant enthused. “Looks like a lovely place to picnic!” </p>
<p> “I think it is” I agreed, “but there's probably a lot of residual magic here from the ancient times when the legendary Lillow was having adventures, so you need to be very careful.” </p>
<p> “Used to be a lot of Jeewizium deposits around here that are quite dangerous,” Rover told us. “The stuff is invisible and if you step on it, you get zapped into another dimension.” </p>
<p> “Wow, that's scary,” Jant said. </p>
<p> “Oh yeah, you were here back then, weren't you?” I asked Rover. </p>
<p> “Yep. That was a really, really long time ago.” </p>
<p> “How'd you stay out of the Jeewizium?” Brak asked. </p>
<p> “Spike could see it, along with Lillow and the witches,” Rover answered. “They kept it scooped up, then the witches used it to imbue the farm with magic.” He paused, with a sad look. “We always thought Spike was immortal, not me. But somehow it got in me or something.” </p>
<p> “I wonder if all the magic that was here could have something to do with it?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah, I think so,” Rover said with a shrug. “I mean it's definitely something that has occurred to me over the years, and I have to say, really, there's no other way to account for it, but still . . .” he paused, looking downward. “well, it's just that most people don't believe in magic these days. They say the legend of Lillow was all made up, that there were never such magical beings in the world and that I'm a delirious dog.” </p>
<p> “Yeah?” I said. “So what? I've heard them, the modern world people with their high-stakes games and devices along with the naysayers and trolls, all of them thinking their world is the real one. But what's that got to do with it? You know your experiences were real.” </p>
<p> “Uh-huh, you're right,” he agreed, “but you do get doubts, I mean about memory and stuff after a few hundred years. Things back there get hazy, you know? But here now, seeing this place again, it's like . . .it's like the magic is coming back.” </p>
<p> “I'll say,” I laughed, looking around. I could see more somehow, a kind of whispering depth that was exhilarating. “This place fairly shimmers with magic. It's below the surface, but it's there.” </p>
<p> “I know,” Rover said, sighing. “I think we'll see more and more as the land accepts us.” </p>
<p> “What if the land doesn't accept us?” Brak asked. </p>
<p> “Oh, it will. You're with Rover after all,” a disembodied voice announced cheerily. </p>
<p> “Spike?” Rover said, with round eyes. </p>
<p> Suddenly a large bulldog appeared. “Rover! Where you been, boy?” he asked. Rover was overcome with emotion. I've never seen his tail wag like that, like a million wags a second, and a big stupid grin on his face. </p>
<p> “Spike!” he yelped, “Oh my good golly, it's Spike!” He looked at us, “Spike!” </p>
<p> “Calm down Rover,” Spike said walking over to us. “You're acting like a darn puppy.” Spike sat down but his tail kept wagging and his big smile remained. “Gooda see you, boy. Been awhile, huh?” Spike said, sitting down near Rover. “I see you got some elves here with you.” </p>
<p> “Yeah Spike,” Rover said. “These guys are from the spaceship where I live now. It's called the Rivitir and these are my captain and fellow crew members. We're explorers and heroes, and Spike, we have such fun! Almost like the old days.” </p>
<p> “Well that's just fine Rover, meanwhile,” he looked at us. </p>
<p> “Oh, yeah. Sorry, this here's Captain Rosy Rivitir.” </p>
<p> “An honor to meet you, sir,” I said, bowing a little. “We've all heard so much about you.” </p>
<p> “Telling his stories, is he?” Spike laughed. “Well it's darn fine to meet you. Keeping this guy outta trouble?” </p>
<p> “I can't keep myself outta trouble,” I said with a grin. </p>
<p> Spike laughed. “No doubt,” he said chuckling. “And who might you two be?” he asked, looking a Brak and Jant. </p>
<p> “I'm Brak and this here's my partner Jant. We're professional heroes.” </p>
<p> “Good job, that,” Spike said, smiling broadly. “As to your worries Brak, I can tell you, the land has already accepted you, all of you.” He began walking across the forested meadow we'd landed in. “Com'on. I'll take you to the farm.” </p>
<p>Two: Zingellawabix - - - - - - - </p>
<p> The magic wand Zingellawabix began his life, for a living thing he is, as ice. Simple ice from a world of ice, a world of contraction, a world where things are gathered, amassed and compressed. It was a great attracter world, and as such its complexity increased. Then, through emergent properties, a frozen precursor to life was created. This complexity, given enough time, and there was ample, will become the most complex thing of all, a living entity. </p>
<p> It started, perhaps, with a simple repetition; a pattern in the ice that accidentally replicates over and over until somewhere along the line it begins to absorb a little of the energy from its environment to maintain and, perhaps, to even enhance the flow, as it were. The available energies would be sunlight, which, while scant on the ice planet, was nonetheless available. Another was the ice planet's primal power of contraction, by far the stronger energy. </p>
<p> After eons of strengthening replications, these icy little patterns were forced to adapt, due to the changing conditions on the ice planet brought on by the approach of the fire planet. They were able to so because they could utilize the energy for their complexity to increase, to adapt, to become. </p>
<p> Closer the fire planet came, disrupting life on both the fire planet and the ice planet, until they finally collided in a massive impact, destroying both planets. The process of annihilation, however, left a more moderate space with a lot of debris. Enough for a rocky, watery-blue planet to form. It was here, in this space, that the living fire and the living ice that came from the fire planet and the ice planet were able to continue and blossom, combining in their evolution the energies of both fire and ice, and emerging as something new. </p>
<p> Zingellawabix was already alive and ancient when the great fire and ice collision occurred and he slipped easily into the emergent life of the blue planet. Finally, after billions of years, plants and trees evolved, nurtured by his energy and life force so that he naturally became a part of the flora, the woodlands. He flowed eagerly and naturally through wood, and when the time was right, after a few more million years, he emerged as a wooden wand, whose powers were enhanced by witches. From the primal ice he could bind, and from the primal fire he could shrink or consume. From his great age of billions of years he learned to harness and direct his powers, powers that grew and grew until he became one of the great magical tools of the world, as well as a blessing to the world, for he is devoted to the cause of goodness and light. </p>
<p> It is believed that he has attained many more powers since, beyond binding, shrinking and consuming. </p>
<p> Say his name with reverence, Zingellawabix, slowly, Zing-gella-wabix. Hear his song; {Zzzzziinnnnggg zing zing zithra! Zzzziinnnnggg zing zing zithra! Zingellawabix zithra! zithra! Zzzzziinnnnggg ziiinnnggg nnnngg!} </p>
<p> It was Zingellawabix who bound and shrank Dredung, the Well of Evil. Today Zingellawabix lives on a farm in an intricate box created by dragons. It is hidden on the legendary Lillow's Farm, the same Lillow who's adventures are told all across Greater Elvenstead. The stuff of legends, stories of the distant past, yet Zingellawabix remains. As does Rover. Oh, and Spike too, despite Rover's having lost touch with him. He's still around though, but just on the farm. </p>
<p>Three: A farm in the wilderness - - - - - - - </p>
<p> We followed the bulldog Spike through the forest for a short ways, marveling at the beauty around us. This forest was old, very old and the glades were well traveled. I was amazed at the abundant flowers, and how sweet and fresh the air was. I think we were lulled into a semi-somnolent state, moving through this idyllic land so that when we crossed a small ridge what confronted us shocked us to our core. For there, stretched out before us was a long desolate swamp with creatures, ferocious creatures and dinosaurs and slithering snakes and . . . </p>
<p> Spike stood beyond that ridge grinning at us while we hid behind the trees. Except Rover that is. He stood staring, as if transfixed, then we watched with amazement as he walked over the ridge and stood beside Spike, easily within the reach of the monsters. </p>
<p> “I remember this,” Rover said, gazing at the spectacle with a smile. “It's the Glamoury Wall.” He turned and waved us to follow. “Com'on you guys!” he yelled. “It's perfectly safe, they're just illusions.” </p>
<p> “That's right,” Spike agreed, “Illusions. Com'on!” </p>
<p> Slowly we emerged, then a little faster when we saw Spike disappear into the vision. When we got to Rover he turned and followed Spike, waving us to follow, which we did, but not without trepidation. These were some fearsome looking beasts and all in a murky swamp as well. But as we followed, the path remained firm as we walked right past the dinosaurs who apparently didn't see us. It was quite bizarre because we didn't actually walk between them, we walked through them. And once through the scene quite quickly changed into a bucolic meadow with a large ancient manor house in the center and a big, well-kept, red barn to the south. </p>
<p> “We just passed through the Glamoury Wall!” Rover announced with obvious pride. </p>
<p> Spike laughed. “That wall is all illusion put in by the witches in ancient times to keep the unwary from wandering onto the farm.” </p>
<p> “It's still going just fine, isn't it?” I asked. “After all these years.” </p>
<p> “Yep. Those witches knew their stuff.” </p>
<p> We came to a curious passage that might have been a gate once but was now just two pillars on either side of the path which led toward the manor house, passing a lush orchard. </p>
<p> “The Golly Orchard,” Spike said as we passed. Soon we were at the manor which seemed deserted. We passed it and turned toward the big red barn. </p>
<p> “This here's Holly's Palatial Estate,” Spike told us when we got to the barn. “It's where I live.” </p>
<p> Quick as a flash I saw a winged creature zip by, leaving a trail of swirling glitter. </p>
<p> “Whoa! What was that?” I asked. </p>
<p> “A faerie,” Spike said. “You've got faeries in Elvenstead don't you?” </p>
<p> “Well, there used to be, or so they say,” I answered. “I've never seen one and I know a lot of people who don't even believe in them.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, well, things sure have changed,” he said without elaborating. </p>
<p> In front of the estate were tables and chairs and we were soon sipping tea and enjoying biscuits. I was still wondering what had brought us here so I kept looking for clues and hints. Somehow, I knew it was for more than just the reunion of Spike and Rover, although that was pretty special. I sent for the Rivitir and soon had it parked in the meadow. </p>
<p> That night I dreamed of a curious sound. It sounded like a small bell ringing, making an iiinnnggg sound, except it seemed to be zing. There seemed to be a zee sound preceding the ing sound. Very odd. </p>
<p>Four: Glad Manor - - - - - - - </p>
<p> The next day I continued looking for clues about what could have brought us here, but that curious zing dream kept nagging at me. Brak and Jant were exploring around the Golly Orchard and then up around the main gate. I think they wanted to see that Glamoury Wall again. I was exploring around the meadow. I stopped to watch Rover and Spike cavorting in the grass and my gaze locked onto the ancient manor at the top of the hill. I began to walk up the path toward the manor. As I walked Spike and Rover joined me. </p>
<p> “What's in the manor?” I asked. “Anybody live there?” </p>
<p> “Noooo,” Spike answered, casting a nervous glance at the manor. </p>
<p> “So it's totally empty?” I asked. It was a marvelously ancient structure and it still looked sound. </p>
<p> “Uh, no,” Spike was uncomfortable. “I mean, there's nothing living there but, well, there's other things.” </p>
<p> “Huh?” </p>
<p> “There's ghosts up there?” Rover asked, looking at the manor with renewed interest. </p>
<p> “I dunno,” Spike answered, shrugging. “It's just that there's sounds sometimes.” </p>
<p> “What kind of sounds,” I asked. </p>
<p> “I don't know. A whining noise maybe, like spirits might make. Almost like a long bell ring but very scary. I could see a ghost making that sound.” </p>
<p> “Wow,” Rover said. “So there's ghosts there?” </p>
<p> “I never said that. I said there's strange sounds that could be a ghost but more likely is something quite natural. Yes, quite natural. Still, it is creepy.” </p>
<p> “Almost like a bell ring?” I asked. “Sort of an ing sound except maybe with a zee, like zing?” </p>
<p> He gave me a worried look. “Yeah. How'd you know that?” </p>
<p> “I dreamed it last night, Spike.” </p>
<p> He stopped and gave the manor, which was quite close now, a long hard look. </p>
<p> “I want to go in there. Is that possible?” I asked. </p>
<p> “No one's been in there for hundreds of years,” he said quietly. “maybe more. But I gotta admit, I don't know why. Just no one'd go in there anymore. Aggy and the new witches got a nice place over in Shady Glen, we should go up there so you can meet them.” </p>
<p> “Do they run the place?” I asked. </p>
<p> “No one runs the farm. It runs itself. Somehow the right person for any needed job just shows up and starts doing it. Aggy showed up when the farm's magic was waning and now, she and the witches do what the farm's witches have always done, and that is maintain the magic. They gather jeewizium and faerie dust and other magical things and use them to power the farm. You saw the Glamoury Wall.” </p>
<p> “Very impressive,” I agreed. I looked at the manor, wondering how to proceed. I had a feeling, a knowing in some strange way, that the zing mystery involved something inside this ancient Glad Manor. And it was a mystery that I needed to solve. </p>
<p> “I oversee the meadow, you know,” Spike continued, “the elves and faeries that work in it, sort of a community I guess and I, well, I'm the mayor. So to speak.” </p>
<p> “So are you the guy I go to to get permission to go in there?” I asked, nodding at the manor. </p>
<p> “Well, no, not really. No one's in charge like that, I mean it's all open and anyone who'd want to could go in, at their own risk of course, it's just that no one's wanted to for so long that everyone sort of accepts that there's a reason, a darn good reason I'd say, to stay out.” </p>
<p> “Oh, well, that's okay then.” I looked at Rover. “You wanna go in?” </p>
<p> Rover looked at the manor with fondness. “It's where I grew up, you know.” I nodded. I did know. “And I've been wanting to come check it out ever since we got here.” He looked at Spike, who seemed noncommittal, then at me, “Let's do it.” </p>
<p> I started up the steps. “You coming Spike?” I called back. With a wary acceptance he followed us up the steps. </p>
<p>Part Five: Trolls in the wicket - - - - - - - </p>
<p> On the southwest corner of the farm is a swamp, known as the Swamp of Doom. It is the ancient swamp, along with its denizens, who are portrayed so realistically by the farm's Glamoury Wall. Fortunately, the swamp is unable to keep up with its own image and is today nowhere near the fearsome entity of old. The horrible, vicious creatures have mostly died off, the dinosaurs went extinct, again, and the swamp, while still dank and fetid, grows lots of exotic flowers and has acquired a largely non-toxic fauna. </p>
<p> In the middle of the Swamp of Doom is an island, called Silvia's Island, and on that island, in the exact center in fact, sits an ancient castle called Badstone Castle. Curiously, the stones that make up the castle are good, and despite being abandoned and being in that particular location, it has retained its structural integrity. It's a sound castle which, like the swamp in which it sits, is not as horrible as the stories say it once was. There are, nonetheless, lingering energies that can be disconcerting and misdirecting, malevolent energies that are a drain on the spirit. </p>
<p> Shortly before the arrival of the Rivitir expedition to Lillow's Farm, the Mad Doctor Snarkey had taken up residence in Badstone Castle. He brought a motley group of workers, mostly dark elves and a few brown weasels, who were industriously building a factory in the great hall of the castle. Dr. Snarkey has developed a new process for making trolls, a process he believed would produce trolls much cheaper than anything Joten could do. Plus, being here in Elvenstead would save a bundle on shipping. Dr. Snarkey laughed his mad scientist laugh as he watched the dark elves put his mad troll factory together. </p>
<p> Joten, Dr. Snarkey's only real competition, is considered the troll capitol because it produces the vast majority of new trolls, all fully hate-loaded and ready to mindlessly break things. Joten trolls, made by Grimn-Leapers, are the real thing, sturdy, reliable and easily the standard for troll production everywhere. But, since Joten was such a long ways from Elvenstead, and getting trolls to Elvenstead was so difficult and expensive, Dr. Snarkey believed his new method of troll production would knock Joten out of the water, so to speak. He, the Mad Dr. Snarkey, would be able to supply the Elvenstead underworld with cheap, functional trolls, allowing every hate-filled, greed addled control freak, who could come up with the money, a chance at success. His motto: Today Elvenstead, tomorrow the world! But right now, Dr. Snarkey's troll market conquest relied on cash flow, which totally suited his business partner, a smooth talking money man, so that money was paramount. And, as long as fear prevailed, it was way more important than customer satisfaction, that's for sure. </p>
<p> “First, I conquer Elvenstead!” Dr. Snarkey would scream, to no one in particular, “Then the world!” he'd finish, posing triumphantly. Some of the workers would overhear and shivered with foreboding, but the pay was good so they mostly shook it off. The others? Well, the others were just as evil minded as Dr. Snarkey himself. A promising new group of minions. </p>
<p> Dr. Snarkey's glib business partner worked in Greater Elvenstead. His nefarious job was to sell the prospect of cheap trolls, even a cheap troll army, to investors, convincing them that they would retain control when the trolls came to trample and destroy, as trolls must do. They would become the new masters, taking over when it became apparent that only they could control the trolls. They alone held sway over the monsters and everyone else was at their mercy. Such power! </p>
<p> That glib business partner was none other than Brad Puffup! Alleged billionaire and owner of the tallest building in the world, perhaps the universe. Brad is the well-known arch-criminal and CEO of Bradco Inc. the largest supplier of military hardware in Elvenstead, despite Elvenstead having no military. Instead, Brad made sure that every argument, conflict, petty disagreement or even vague misunderstanding was well armed. Both sides, proudly armed by Bradco Inc. Bullets are flying, thanks to the patriots at Bradco Inc. </p>
<p> From his secret underground fortress headquarters, Brad planned to make Bradco the largest company in the world! Brad would crow, whenever possible in front of adoring sycophants, about how big and grand Bradco was going to be, already was, because of his being a stable genius! Posing heroically, with his oddly small hands firmly grasping the reins, Brad was poised to take the world, with Dr. Snarkey as number two, while Dr. Snarkey was poised for the same thing with Brad as number two. Gosh, well I'm sure they'll work that out, meanwhile all they had to do was keep the common people frightened, and what better way than a troll army? After just spreading rumors of an impending troll invasion, Bradco Inc. made record profits selling guns, rockets and ammunition. Imagine if the threat became real. There's a lot of money in fear. </p>
<p>Part Six: Finding Zing - - - - - - - </p>
<p> Meanwhile, back on the farm, Rover, Spike and I were in the main hall of the ancient Glad Manor. There is a simple 'keep out' spell surrounding the manor, fairly easy to push through if you recognized it, which an uneasy Spike did, but otherwise quite adequate to keep most out. The windows were dusty but allowed enough light to see by. I could hear a zing sound, but very faint. </p>
<p> “Do you guys hear that?” I asked. </p>
<p> “What?” Rover answered. He cocked his head. “I don't hear anything.” </p>
<p> “It's sort of a ringing sound, but real low,” I told him, “I can barely hear it, but I'm sure it's there. Can you hear it?” </p>
<p> Rover shook his head and Spike looked blank. “I don't hear it,” Rover added, looking oddly at me. “Could it be tinnitus? “ </p>
<p> “I don't think so Rover. I've only heard it here on the farm and it gets stronger in this manor, but it's still pretty faint.” </p>
<p> “I can't hear it,” Spike said quietly. </p>
<p> But I could. I noticed that it seemed to grow louder as I approached the stairway to the next floor. </p>
<p> “Com'on you guys,” I said, looking back at them. “I think there's something here that's trying to call me, sending me this ringing noise, almost a song, urging me forward, making that long buzzing zing sound that apparently only I can hear.” I began up the stairs. “Whatever it is, it's real and it wants to be found.” I felt the intensity increase. “It needs to be found,” I amended. </p>
<p> When we got to the top there was a hallway with open doors on both sides except for the very first one. This door was closed. It was somehow grander than the others and I felt the song grow stronger. I knew that the sender of the zing music was behind this door. </p>
<p> I reached over and grabbed the doorknob but it wouldn't budge. I pushed on the door but it was like a wall of granite. I could hear the zing song louder now, more insistent. I stopped, unsure how to proceed. </p>
<p> “There's a spell on that door that prevents people going in,” a strange voice behind me spoke. “Who are you and why are you . . . Spike, what are you doing here?” </p>
<p> “Oh, uh, hi Aggy,” Spike answered, sheepishly. “This here's Rover and that's Rosy at the door. She hears some sort of zing sound and she thinks it's behind that door.” </p>
<p> Aggy. Gosh, Spike had mentioned her, the head witch, I believe. I turned and looked at her. She was a pretty standard witch, with the pointed hat and holding a broom. Her hair was bone-white and her dress was a vibrant purple. </p>
<p> “You can hear the zing song?” she asked, watching me closely. </p>
<p> “Yeah. It's pretty loud here and I think it's coming from somewhere behind that door.” </p>
<p> “It's calling,” she murmured, mysteriously. She studied my face for a long moment, looking deep into my eyes with an almost hypnotic intensity, then she came over and stood in front of the door. Slowly waving her arms, she chanted something unintelligible. Then she spun around three times and when she stopped, she stepped back and the door swung open. </p>
<p> I gaped in amazement, but nobody said anything. They all stood watching me. I turned and entered the room. As soon as I was inside the zing song became faint again and I heard a voice in my head. </p>
<p> {Ah, at last you have come. I am Zingellawabix, the wand of power, and you are Rosy, the chosen one, the only one able to direct my power in the coming work that must be done. You will find me in a long wooden case under the Goddess altar.} </p>
<p> There was an altar to the Dawn Robin Redbreast, a goddess I knew was worshiped by the fauna in most the rural areas of Elvenstead, which occupied most of the facing wall. I walked over and without knowing why, I bowed. I held my head low for a moment, saying a silent prayer of gratitude. I wondered what the 'chosen one' was all about but intuitively it felt right. I opened the drawer under the altar and inside was a long, ornately carved box that seemed to sparkle with magical energy. Reverently I reached down and picked it up. Now the zing song was strong, mesmerizing, full of power. A power I could not comprehend yet somehow, I sensed that it contained the universe. I brought the box into the other room where everyone stood, wide eyed, staring. </p>
<p> “Rover, would you clean that table off?” I asked, nodding at a nearby table. He rushed over and with Spike and Aggy's help removed the accumulated debris and did their best at wiping the dust off. </p>
<p> “Thank you, guys,” I murmured as I set the box down. I could tell it was old, really old. The carvings and designs were exquisite. It's song was powerful yet sweet, almost like a purr. I unhooked the hasps on either side and opened the case. I was immediately overwhelmed with waves of love and a joy that was eager to get to work. I wondered what work needed doing? </p>
<p> {I am Zingellawabix,} the voice intoned in my head. {I am he that binds, I am he that reduces, I am he that calls on the waters, I am he that freezes, I am he that burns, I am he that cloaks from sight, I am Zingellawabix, the mighty Wand of power. </p>
<p>Zzziiiinnngggg zithra! Zzziiinnnggg zithra! Zingellawabix zithra! Zithra!} </p>
<p> “Gosh, well hello. I'm Rosy . . .” I began. </p>
<p> “Who're are you talking to?” Rover asked. </p>
<p> “Uh, the wand. It's, er, he's the wand we're looking at.” </p>
<p> “It talks to you?” Rover asked with wide eyes. </p>
<p> “Yeah. At least I think so. I hear this voice and I think it's the wand. Zingella-something, he said his name was.” </p>
<p> {Zingellawabix.} </p>
<p> “Zingellawabix,” I repeated. “He's a wand of power and yeah, I'm pretty sure now, it is the wand speaking to me.” </p>
<p> “Just like with Lillow,” Spike murmured. </p>
<p> “I know little of this wand,” Aggy said, staring at it. “Just that we were tasked with keeping this room sealed until the time was right. Which appears to be now.” </p>
<p> “Oh, hello!” I said, turning and smiling at her. “So you're the Aggy Spike told me about? I don't think we've met properly.” </p>
<p> “Huh? Oh my gosh, I'm sorry,” Spike sputtered. “Uh, Aggy, I'd like you to meet a couple of our guests, Rosy Rivitir and Rover.” He looked at us, “This is Aggy, the head witch.” </p>
<p>Seven: Getting to know you - - - - - - - </p>
<p> I was thrilled to meet Aggy, the head witch, especially in light of this powerful and mysterious wand that has apparently called me for some sort of work. Magical work it would seem. After the pleased to meet yous were over I asked, “So what can you tell me about Zingellawabix? I'm totally new at this sort of thing. I mean, I really don't know anything about magic.” </p>
<p> “Well, it isn't much, I'm afraid. We all, that's the other witches, Tenner, Nells and Gretta, well, we all knew about the stories, me especially since Lillow was my great-great Grandmother, but I never heard much about Zingellawabix. I knew Lillow used it to bind Dredung, the Well of Evil, that had manifested as the Grand Final of the Grimn-Leapers. Have you heard the tale?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, it's one of the more popular ones,” I answered. </p>
<p> “So you know, Lillow and Treywiz, wielding Zingellawabix, bound and shrank Dredung to the size of a pea.” </p>
<p> {It was much smaller than that.} </p>
<p> “Zingellawabix says it was much smaller than a pea,” I told her. </p>
<p> She regarded me with wide eyes. “After I don't know much else. None of the old stories that I know of tell what became of Zingellawabix. I did know that a dragon carved the case down in Mish which is where Lillow traveled to get the wand.” She looked at the box. “You gonna pick it up?” </p>
<p> I was trying to remember the old stories and looked back at the wand with a start. “Oh,” I said, in a small squeak. Then, deepening my voice and speaking with assumed confidence, I continued, “Uh-huh, well yes, yes, of course, I mean it, er, he did call me, and well, yes, yes, I'm going to pick him up.” I continued to stare at the wand. Nobody said a word as I walked slowly over and stood in front of the case, looking at the wand. </p>
<p> Uh, Zingellawabix? I thought, directing it at the wand. </p>
<p> {Yes, Rosy? Oh, and you don't have to yell. I may be ancient but I can still hear. Whenever you think of me, I will hear.} </p>
<p> Oh, sorry I thought, without directing it at anything. I uh, well I want to pick you up. Is that okay? </p>
<p> {Of course! I have been waiting. It is necessary.} </p>
<p> I reached down slowly and grabbed the wand in both hands. I felt an immediate wave of love and a deep, thrumming sense of almost bottomless power. I lifted it up and held it high in my right hand. There was a glow and all watching gazed with open mouthed awe, including me, as the area was lit up, like daylight, at the sight of him. He began to sing. </p>
<p> {Zzziiinnnggg, zzziiinnnggg zithra! Zithra! Zzzzziiiiinnnnnngggggellawabix zithra! Zithra!} </p>
<p> The song was somehow of huge power instilled with a deep and abiding love for me and my kind that left me teary eyed. I lowered him and held him in front of me. Zingellawabix, I thought quietly. I am thrilled, somehow just thrilled to my core, filled with excitement and trepidation at the same time. I feel like I've known you for much longer than . . . </p>
<p> {You have. There are many mysterious things of which I can only glimpse meanings. We are connected and have been for eternity, which is outside of time.} </p>
<p> Oh, I thought. I had no idea what to think of that. </p>
<p> After a few moments, I thought, Zingellawabix, may I ask . . . </p>
<p> {You may ask anything, bearer.} </p>
<p> Oh, okay, thank you. So I was wondering about the work you mentioned? You know, when we first met, you said something about some work that needed doing? </p>
<p> {Yes, just so. We will talk of this when the time is right. Now I must return to my case. You will find a backpack carrying case in the back of the drawer where I was at. Bring it and use it to carry me on your back.} </p>
<p> I put him back in his box, but he continued to purr, even after I closed the lid. When I snapped the hasps, he fell silent. </p>
<p> “He says there's a carrying case in the back of the drawer where he was at,” I said. </p>
<p> “Onnit!” Rover barked and soon he returned with a finely wrought case that held the box as if it was made for it. </p>
<p> {It was.} </p>
<p> I hoisted the pack onto my back and was surprised at how well it fit, how comfortable it was. </p>
<p> “Wow, this is intense. Zingellawabix says the case was made to hold the box. It's very comfortable.” </p>
<p> Aggy looked at me and nodded, smiling. “Looks like it was made for you,” she said. After a brief pause, she asked, “So, what now? What does Zingellawabix want?” </p>
<p> “I don't know. Just get to know him, I guess. He spoke of some work that needed doing but he didn't say what.” </p>
<p>Eight: Connections - - - - - - - </p>
<p> I have found Zingellawabix in the ancient manor. Aggy, Rover and Spike are with me and we are preparing to leave. </p>
<p> “Well, shall we head out?” Aggy asked. It was dark and dusty in there and we seemed done with our business. </p>
<p> Yeah, I'm done, “ I said starting for the door. </p>
<p> “I wanna look around some more, now that all the magic stuff is done,” Rover said. </p>
<p> “The magic never stops, Rover,” Spike said with a chuckle. He looked at me and Aggy, now by the door. “Imma stay here with Rover. We'll see you guys later, huh?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, okay,” I said. “You two be careful. There's some very curious things here, you know?” </p>
<p> “That's for sure,” Spike said as Rover began walking down the hallway. He winked at me then turned and followed after Rover. I could hear him telling Rover as they walked away. “Remember how we used to howl? Yeah? Well that howling wall is still . . .” </p>
<p> “That cheeky dog winked at me,” I said, laughing. </p>
<p> “That sounds like Spike, alright,” Aggy said with a big grin. “He tell ya he's in charge?” </p>
<p> “Said he was the mayor . . .” </p>
<p> Aggy snorted. “Mayor! Hoowee, wait'll the girls hear about this. You gotta love that old dog.” I smiled, not sure what to say. “He's a good guy, mind you,” she continued, “keeps the meadow in order and all that. Been here forever, you know. They say he's immortal, that he was here in Lillow's time, but I don't know. He keeps all that to himself. Anyway, the truth is no one's in charge here, not even me and the witches.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, Spike mentioned that too. He was a little vague about being the mayor though.” </p>
<p> Aggy and I went to the meadow where I showed her the AV Rivitir and introduced her to Jant, who was the only one there. I told Jant about everything that had happened and asked where a safe place might be keep Zingellawbix. </p>
<p> {You must put me where I am easily reached with my box opened. Fear no thievery for none can succeed. I am the guardian. I can contact you anywhere if need arises.} </p>
<p> Gosh, okay. “So I guess I'm not hiding him after all,” I told them. “Zingellawabix just said to put him anywhere, but with his box open. He says no one can succeed at stealing him, whatever that means. Sounds like he wants to keep an eye on things.” </p>
<p> Aggy looked at him when I opened the box and set it on the mantle. The Rivitir, quite naturally, has a fireplace. </p>
<p> “I wonder what's happening that brought you here and awakened Zingellawbix?” she asked. I could only shrug as I had no idea. She looked worried. “I mean he's some heavy weaponry, you know? Like a huge magical bomb if he gets set off.” This sobered us and we looked at her with wide eyes. </p>
<p> “He gonna be okay on the mantle like that?” Jant asked. </p>
<p> Aggy and I both shrugged. “He says so,” I answered, “but I guess time will tell.” I felt odd, like I was doubting a friend's abilities, but it was how I felt. </p>
<p> “I needa be going,” Aggy announced. “You guys gotta come up and meet the other witches. We can have dinner, huh? How about tonight? Bring your gang and Spike too, we'd love to have you.” She looked at me expectantly. </p>
<p> “Well, I can't speak for the others, and Jant is on duty and stays with the Rivitir . . .” </p>
<p> “Imma home body!” Jant said with a smile. </p>
<p> “but sure, I'd love to come, and, if it's alright with you, maybe Brak, Rover and Spike will come too. Who knows?” </p>
<p> “Absolutely! We'd love to see you and whoever else tags along.” With that she was gone, her broom carrying her swiftly away. </p>
<p>Nine: The work - - - - - - - </p>
<p> That night Rover, Spike and I went up to Witchhaven, which is in Shady Glen, a small elf village, where the witches oversee the farm's magic. Spike told me most the elves living there could see Jeewizium and knew how to handle it so they worked easily with the witches, keeping the farm's magic strong. I noticed several faeries flitting about as well. There seemed many more here, for some reason. </p>
<p> In the main hall at Witchhaven we met Tenner, whose actual name was Hortense Riviter. We were both Rivitirs, except she spelled it differently, er instead of ir. </p>
<p> “We're likely cousins,” she joked. Anyway I think she was joking. </p>
<p> Then there was Nells, or Nelly. She told us she'd answer to either, didn't matter. Her full name is Magnella Mercy, and she laughed uproariously when she told us. Gretta's full name is Lagretta Moran and Aggy's is Abigail Gladstar. The legendary Lillow's great-great Granddaughter. They were all descended from the farm's witches of Lillow's time and I felt like I was in the presence of royalty. But later at dinner quite a few elves joined us, and there was no deference shown. You could tell they were all fully equal, joking and calling each other by name. I guess Spike is right, there are no bosses on Lillow's Farm. </p>
<p> It was at this jovial dinner that the reason for Zingellawabix's awakening and his calling me became apparent. </p>
<p> “Trolls! Trolls are coming, get your guns! We got guns, people, come and gettem, 'cause trolls are coming!” a loud voice in the Shady Glen town square was yelling. The square, not far from Witchhaven, was lit up with lights of various colors and the red ones were flashing. The elf that was screaming the warning was pushing a cart loaded with an array of weapons. “Get yer guns! Trolls coming!” he yelled. Furtive elves could be seen dashing up and soon after leaving with a gun or guns. </p>
<p> Aggy, Tenner, Spike, Rover and I went down to investigate. “You!” Aggy yelled as we arrived, “What do you mean trolls are coming?” </p>
<p> He gave her a startled look. “It's what I heard,” he sputtered. </p>
<p> “Oh yeah! And another thing,” Aggy continued, “people around here don't use these projectile weapons. They're too dangerous, someone could get hurt.” </p>
<p> “They's gonna need 'em when the trolls come,” the elf sneered. </p>
<p> “What makes you think trolls are coming?” Tenner asked. </p>
<p> “I just know, that's all.” </p>
<p> “Yeah?” Aggy asked, giving him a long, cold look. He seemed discomfited and backed up. </p>
<p> “I got me sources. Can't reveal me sources, can I?” </p>
<p> Tenner had moved behind him as he faced Aggy. “Yes. You. Can.” Aggy hissed, stressing each word. He jumped and spun around. </p>
<p> “I can't!” He screeched. He seemed to be getting desperate, looking back and forth. He had an angry witch in front, another behind, me and Rover on one side and Spike on the other. We were all growling and casting dark, energy draining stares. He started to scream, “Aaaahhh!” Then he stopped. “Okay. Okay, listen. I can't say no names but you might want to look at that swamp. That's all I'm gonna say.” With that he darted past me and Rover and disappeared into the surrounding darkness, leaving his gun cart behind. </p>
<p> “What swamp?” I asked. </p>
<p> Aggy and Tenner exchanged a worried look. “The Swamp of Doom,” Aggy said grimly. </p>
<p> “Wow. That sounds bad,” I said. “Where's that at?” </p>
<p> “South of us, maybe half a klick or so, depending on, well, I dunno,” Tenner answered. “Sometimes it's more, sometimes it's less, no way to be sure. But usually around half a klick or so.” I was silent. How could the distance change? I wondered. </p>
<p> “That swamp has been quiet for years,” Aggy said, with a scowl. “Just too quiet, I guess.” She looked at Tenner, “Looks like we needa go take a look.” </p>
<p> “Yeah,” Tenner said, but she was already running to get her broom. </p>
<p> Aggy looked at us, “Sorry guys, we gotta run. Nells and Gretta are up at Witchhaven for a while longer so . . .” </p>
<p> “Thanks, Aggy,” I answered, “but I got a feeling we should be getting back ourselves.” </p>
<p> {Yes, things are quiet for now, yet there is a disquiet that seeps in. Something is amiss, but as yet I cannot tell what. It is time to return.} </p>
<p> “I just got a call from Zingellawabix!” I told Rover and Spike. “We needa get back, soon.” I turned to tell Aggy but she was already gone. “Com'on you guys,” I yelled as I took off running down the path, Rover and Spike close behind. </p>
<p>Ten: Trolls - - - - - - - </p>
<p> Things were still calm when we got back but I put the crew on full alert. Spike did the same thing in the meadow and we dug in, waiting for the report from the witches. We weren't long in waiting. Tenner and Gretta arrived quickly with the first reports. Tenner began as soon as they were off their brooms. </p>
<p> “There's a troll factory in Badstone Castle!” Tenner exclaimed. “Somehow, without us noticing, someone built a troll factory in Badstone Castle!” </p>
<p> “Wow, that sounds bad,” I said. </p>
<p> I've had very little experience with trolls. Most people avoid them and Greater Elvenstead has banned them. As soon as one is caught it is deported to Joten, the troll kingdom where the Grimn-Leapers have several troll factories. All modern trolls are made in Joten so discovering a troll factory in the hinterlands of Elvenstead is terrifying. </p>
<p> “It is bad!” Gretta agreed. “More than bad. There's already a sizable force of trolls, milling about the castle grounds, ready to be deployed.” </p>
<p> “So, is this in the swamp, the uh Swamp of Doom, was it, that the gun dealer mentioned?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Yes, the Swamp of Doom. Badstone Castle sits on Silvia's Island smack dab in the middle,” Tenner told me, nodding grimly. </p>
<p> “Wow!” I said, “So, whoever the fiendish perpetrator is won't want to keep them there long.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, that's what Aggy said,” Tenner murmured with a worried look. </p>
<p> “So, we're going the fortify Witchhaven, and Spike, you better fortify the meadow,” Gretta told us. </p>
<p> “Onnit,” Spike barked. He took off running back to the meadow. </p>
<p> “What do you mean by, 'fortify'?” I asked. </p>
<p> “It means getting as many defenders as you can, armed with whatever weaponry you have.” </p>
<p> “I guess it's good in a sad sort of way that Bradco got so many guns distributed around here,” Tenner noted wryly. “Although I don't know how effective conventional weaponry will be against trolls.” </p>
<p> “Well, I've got Zingellawabix,” I said. “One of his powers is binding.” </p>
<p> “That's how they do it in Greater Elvenstead,” Rover put in, “whenever a troll is caught there, they use a binding spell to hold it for deporting.” </p>
<p> “I'll tell Aggy,” Tenner said, “but I'm pretty sure we already have that spell. Thing is we have one of our own that we like better.” </p>
<p> “How many trolls does it bind?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Ours is four, maybe five. Up in Greater Elvenstead it's probably about three. But binding magic tends to come undone if there's too many and a lot of resistance. Ours just lasts longer.” </p>
<p> I nodded. I wondered how many Zingellawabix could bind. Dredung, the Well of Evil must be equal to a lot of trolls. Rover and I ran back to the meadow, warning everyone we encountered about the trolls. Many asked if we had guns to sell. </p>
<p>Eleven: Rumors of war - - - - - - - </p>
<p> The trolls marched out that next morning, but they seemed to get bogged down in the swamp. We were surprised, watching them advance as so many of these brutish beasts got stuck in what was no longer a terribly malignant swamp. But they were floundering, waving their arms frantically as they toppled over into the murk. The ones that got through seemed dispirited and confused. </p>
<p> “These are not Joten trolls,” Aggy observed, as we watched a couple bound trolls being carted to the troll deportation center. “They are unfocused and poorly coordinated. I almost feel sorry for them, I mean they won't survive long in Joten's harsh environment. I wonder who made them?” </p>
<p> “We're getting reports of some sort of mad doctor, Captain, hiring a bunch of dark elves out of Elvenstead's lower south side,” Jant told us. She's been getting all the news from Greater Elvenstead and keeping me informed. “Sounds a little like the Mad Doctor Snarkey, if you ask me,” she opined. “Also there's reports that the nefarious Brad Puffup has been selling interests in a troll army . . .” </p>
<p> “Sounds like he's profiting from fear and greed,” I interrupted. “He gets greedy investors to build the troll army which scares the people who then buy his guns. That's a darn nefarious scheme,” I said, angrily. </p>
<p> “I know what you're going to ask,” Jant said. “And yes, Brad Puffup has disappeared. According to Bradco's press releases he's been abducted by a band of orcs.” </p>
<p> “Hmmm,” I thought. “I'll bet Brad's leading a band of orcs, not being abducted by them and I'll bet they're headed south right now, headed toward us, to assist the troll's invasion that seems to be floundering.” </p>
<p> “This is not good news,” Aggy observed. “So now we gotta face orcs? Darn. Well, at least the trolls have been incompetent so far. I better get back to Witchhaven.” Aggy had been going back and forth between Witchhaven and the meadow to coordinate our efforts. Orcs were another thing I didn't have experience with. </p>
<p> After she left, we could only wait to see what transpired. “I think the guns might work better on orcs,” Rover stated. “I mean, they aren't much good against trolls who are just brainless machines really, tools of their master.” </p>
<p> “But orcs are really bad, nasty people who just weren't quite ambitious enough to become Grimn-Leapers,” Spike told us. </p>
<p> “Which means, as I understand it,” Rover continued, “that orcs aren't surrounded by magical shields the way the Grimn-Leapers are.” </p>
<p> “Is all this true?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Near as I can tell, from what I've learned over the years,” Spike answered. </p>
<p> “From what I've heard too,” Rover agreed. </p>
<p> “So orcs are creatures of raw anger who use whatever they can get their hands on to attack and destroy, while trolls are creatures of mindless hate, that just lumber along, breaking everything they encounter indiscriminately,” I said, trying to sum it up. </p>
<p> “Yeah, except it's not that simple,” Spike began. </p>
<p> “It never is,” I sighed. “But can they be stopped by bullets?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Well, yeah, more'n likely,” Spike answered, without conviction. “Trolls just sort of absorb bullets and spears until they collapse from lack of fluids, while orcs are probably stopped cold, like any normal elf would be.” </p>
<p> “Well, I hope you're right,” I said, “'cause there's lots of bullets here waiting for them.” </p>
<p> Just then there was a commotion outside. We hurried out to hear an elf telling the people of the meadow that an orc army was coming toward them from the north. </p>
<p> “Our scouts claim the nefarious Brad Puffup is leading them.” There were boos and hisses at the sound of Brad's name. What a dastardly villain. “Curiously,” the elf continued, “the trolls that have made it out of the swamp are amassing to the north of us as well, having in their dazed and confused state, circumvented the farm entirely to avoid the Glamoury Wall. Apparently, it totally fooled them. They now are north and appear to be facing north.” The people were perplexed at this but managed a few cheers. </p>
<p> “Sounds like they got confused and forgot about the farm,” I suggested. </p>
<p> “That could be,” Rover agreed. </p>
<p> “We want to do some fly-overs, to check things out,” Brak told us. Jant was with him and they both held brooms. </p>
<p> “That's a good plan, especially for professional heroes like you two,” I answered. “Just be careful, huh?” They nodded agreement and with a thumbs up they were off. </p>
<p> I'd heard nothing from Zingellawabix and I wondered at that. </p>
<p> {Don't worry Rosy. The trolls are poorly made and I sense no immediate threat. Nonetheless, remain vigilant, things could change quickly.} </p>
<p> I felt a lot of relief at hearing that voice and getting that message. Thank you Zingellawabix, I thought gently. </p>
<p>Twelve: War - - - - - - - </p>
<p> Just then Jant returned. “You won't believe this!” she exclaimed after landing her broom. “The trolls are fighting the orcs! And Brad Puffup is leading the orcs! He took off somewhere, hiding no doubt, because those trolls, even as messed up as they are, are giving the orcs a beating, last I saw. Brak is still there, watching.” </p>
<p> “That's amazing,” I said, happily stunned. “I never imagined this outcome.” </p>
<p> “We shouldn't assume that we're safe yet,” Spike cautioned. We all agreed and resumed our vigil. When we were quiet, we thought we could hear the sounds of the distant conflict, the shouted curses, the clack of swords, faintly, a long way off. Then somehow, they seemed closer. </p>
<p> Suddenly Brak appeared, landing his broom hurriedly. “Quick, get ready!” he shouted. “The trolls have defeated the orcs and have turned around. They are now headed this way!” We could hear the approaching brutes, lumbering through anything in their path. “They're battle-hardened berserkers!” Brak yelled, looking frantically around for weapons. </p>
<p> {It is time Rosy. Please hold me aloft that I may observe their approach.} </p>
<p> I carried Zingellawabix out of the Rivitir and into the meadow where I held him high while facing north. The sounds of the trolls approach were getting louder and I was shocked to see orcs coming from the side, led by Brad Puffup! Then the troll army appeared and I gasped because the mad Doctor Snarkey was at their head. I felt a moment of genuine fear, with a troll army in front and orcs to the side. Suddenly I felt a curious vibration in my arm and I could hear his song, quite loudly. </p>
<p> {Zzzziiiinnnngggg zziiiinnnngggg Zingellawabix zithra! Zithra! ZITHRA!} </p>
<p> With that last zithra the trolls stopped and began tightening their otherwise loose formation with the outliers joining in, squeezing in, all of them in and getting tighter and tighter until they all just froze in place like a giant ball of trolls, casting mystified glances all around but seemingly unable to move. The same thing happened to the orcs which I could now see had been attacking from both sides. Now there sat a mystified ball of orcs on either side. The Mad Doctor Snarkey and Brad Puffup were similarly bound, stuck together, glaring and screaming at each other. A smaller ball of brown weasels and dark elves sat in front of them, hissing and barking. </p>
<p> Thank you Zingellawabix! That was amazing! I thought, trying not to think right at him. </p>
<p> {It was my pleasure, Rosy. These are despicable beings that I've bound here. You would be wise to transport these two leaders and their weasels and dark elves to the Elvenstead constabulary to face justice. As to the trolls, I'm sure that the Mad Doctor Snarkey's machines can undo the troll process by sending them through in reverse. They are poor quality, but the innocent creatures who emerge should be alright. As to the orcs, they are merely Grimn-Leapers without the black magic and as such are profoundly evil. All you can do is deport them to Joten, from whence they sprang.} </p>
<p> Yes Zingellawabix, this is surely how it must be. Thank you again. I . . . I was feeling odd and stopped. </p>
<p> {I love you too Rosy. It is I why we work effectively together but as to how? Well, that appears to be another thing that is beyond my ken, for now.} </p>
<p> Rover's friends, Detective Inspector Gee and Sergeant Goat, came down from Elvenstead in a special police waggal to take Snarkey, Puffup and the weasels back to face hideous charges. Rover says he worked with DI Gee and Sgt. Goat once, but I had trouble seeing Rover as a police dog, even after the Inspector confirmed it. What an astonishing life Rover has had. And a very long one at that, so that I was becoming a little more accepting that he might actually be immortal, or at least really, really, really old, which is even more curious in that he acts like a young dog, even a puppy at times. </p>
<p> We had a celebration at Witchhaven which still makes me dizzy. What lovely people reside on this farm. Spike, who I actually do think is immortal, has resumed his mayoral duties while the witches keep the farm's magic strong. When all the trolls were cured, we dismantled the factory and the witches vowed to keep a closer eye on the swamp. Then we were ready to leave, with a new crew member, the wand Zingellawabix, our guardian. I saw Rover getting teary eyed and asked if he really wanted to go. He gave me a solemn look. </p>
<p> “I never want to go when it's time, Captain. I truly love everyone I spend time with, which is sort of a dog thing, I guess, but when it's time to move on, it's time.” He turned and headed toward the Rivitir. “If you're ready Captain, I've already charted a course.” </p>
<p> I smiled, knowing we'd soon be lost again, and followed him in.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/70378322022-08-14T14:45:47-07:002022-08-14T14:45:47-07:00On Glodrot Island - By Rosy<p> One fine day, while standing on the shore of the great lake, Latawata, admiring the view, I was struck by a powerful gust of wind, probably around a hundred kilometers per hour or more, that carried me for quite a while before I was deposited, all willy-nilly, on the forbidden Glodrot Island, believed to be home to the scary Red Tings, a lost tribe of monkeys. </p>
<p> When I came to my senses, I looked around with trepidation. We've all heard the stories, usually late at night and better if the moon is full or there's a thunderstorm, about the Red Tings, the famous lost monkeys of Glodrot Island, and now here I was, in person, on Glodrot Island. The forbidden Glodrot Island, if memory serves. I wondered if the wind might possibly carry me back to the shore but the air was now suspiciously still. </p>
<p> I was becoming quite worried, thinking about how I was stranded on the forbidden Glodrot Island with fearsome Red Tings ready to pounce, so I began looking for hiding places. The rocky beach I was standing on offered nothing beyond the size of a pebble. Immediately inland were scrubby bushes and a low berm, then some rolling dunes with long grasses growing from them. Not too much further was impenetrable jungle. I walked toward the jungle. </p>
<p> When I got to the jungle, I stopped, for it appeared to be a solid green wall. You couldn't see a centimeter into it. As I reached up to touch it, I heard a creaking sound, then saw a rectangle shaped panel, like a door of solid green, opening outward near to where I stood, staring transfixed. A furry red head, with bright blue eyes, slowly emerged and upon seeing me screamed and ducked back inside, promptly slamming the door shut. I scratched my head. This didn't jibe with the stories I'd heard at all, not even a little. </p>
<p> Feeling a spurt of anger over the discrepancy I walked over and knocked on where I thought the door was. </p>
<p> From behind the wall a voice could be heard, “There's no one home! Go away!” </p>
<p> “Hey!” I yelled, “Look! I got blown here by a sudden gust of wind and now I'm stranded. I sure didn't want to come here.” There was silence. I knocked some more but still, just silence so I sat down, leaning my back against the door, pretty sure. </p>
<p> I sat for quite a while, then I must have dozed because I was awakened by the door pushing my back. It stopped, then started again, more insistent, pushing stronger. I stood and moved out of the way and it flew open. I got near, staying close to the wall, as a furry red head appeared with blue eyes that went round at seeing me and screamed, pulling the door shut, except this time I had my foot in it. The creature ran off, screaming the entire way, as I cautiously opened the door wider and stepped through. </p>
<p> Inside was a nicely paved highway with two lanes and a white line down the middle. I could see the creature bounding down the highway and screaming. Leaning against the green wall on this side was a curious bicycle. It was decidedly built for someone of a much different body shape than mine but I managed to get on it and pedal well enough to travel. Soon, growing accustomed to the bicycle's peculiarities, I was fairly flying down the road. </p>
<p> There were nicely tended farms on either side but never any sign of anybody tending them. In fact, the entire place seemed deserted. I came to a forest, not a jungle, and the road continued through, until I came to a town, only it seemed deserted too. I stopped to look around, see if I could figure out what was going on. </p>
<p> “Hello!” I called out, “Anybody home?” </p>
<p> “No, no one home,” a voice somewhere behind me answered. </p>
<p> A closer voice continued. “No one at all, so you might as well leave. Perhaps someone will be home tomorrow or more likely next month or could be never, could be never gonna be anyone home again ever. Could be.” </p>
<p> Another voice whispered loudly, “Hush Agar! You chatter too much.” Then with more volume, “It is true. We are not home. None of us , so go ahead and leave. Return to your own empty home. Nothing to see here.” </p>
<p>The voices were coming from behind a door of the house in front of me, so I strode up the walk and rapped on the door. Silence. I reached over, twisted the knob and pushed the door open. There stood a terrified furry creature, bright red with blue eyes, staring at me and screaming. There were many more in the room beyond. All round eyed and screaming. </p>
<p> “Quiet!” I yelled. “I won't hurt you.” </p>
<p> The creatures stopped screaming and the one at the door looked suspiciously at me and asked, “You won't?” </p>
<p> “No! Why should I? I'm stranded and scared. I'm worried that the monstrous Red . . .” I stopped speaking and looked closer at the creature. It was furry and bright red. Hmmm. It could, in fact, it very well could, be a monkey. I realized in a flash that I was face to face with a Red Ting. And it was afraid of me. </p>
<p> “Are you a Red Ting?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Harumph!” it snorted. “Red Ting, I dunno this. We're the legendary Umpalumpa Monkeys.” </p>
<p> I'd never heard of them. “I, uh, well, uh,” I sputtered. </p>
<p> “Yes, me too,” it said, looking oddly at me. There was a long moment of silence. “We're afraid of each other, aren't we?” it finally asked. </p>
<p> “That would seem to be the case,” I answered, feeling foolish. </p>
<p> “Why is that?” it asked, becoming less tense. All the monkeys in the room behind calmed down and resumed their normal monkey lives. Suddenly the street behind me was crowded with traffic, horns were honking and monkeys were scurrying to and fro. </p>
<p> “Because of what I've heard,” I told it. “We heard that the Red Ting's, that you, were a lost race of monkeys on the forbidden, you can see how that sounds, can't you? The forbidden Glodrot Island, the very island on which we stand!” It looked at me oddly. </p>
<p> “That's exactly what we heard about you,” he stated with a scowl. “That you lived on the forbidden Glodrot Island and that you were a tribe of lost elves called Green Tings.” I was getting suspicious, and angry. </p>
<p> “So you call us Green Tings?” I asked. That name sounded rude. </p>
<p> He looked sternly at me, “You call us Red Tings?” </p>
<p> I think we were on the verge of smacking each other when suddenly a strong gust of wind, probably a hundred kilometers per hour or more, hit me and carried me for quite a ways then dropped me all willy-nilly on a rocky beach. When I came to my senses, I realized I was back on the beach where I started, on the exact spot in fact, looking out over the beautiful lake Latawata with the mysterious forbidden Glodrot Island a mere dot in the far distance. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/70378242022-08-14T14:45:08-07:002022-08-14T14:45:08-07:00Endless Deserts - By Rosy<p> We were cruising above the clouds on a cloudy day which meant we couldn't see Mother Earth at all. Just a curiously uniform and seemingly endless, fluffy white floor with shocking blue skies above. We were going slow, enjoying the sunshine despite it being freezing cold outside. Nobody was going to roll down any windows, after all, well, except maybe Rover. I keep my eye on him. </p>
<p> I'm Captain Rosy Riviter and my craft is the spacious All-Vehicle Rivitir, named after my dad. The aforementioned Rover is our navigator, a hound dog under whose direction we always seem to arrive at someplace unexpected yet someplace where we're needed, for some odd thing or another. Usually. </p>
<p> Brak is our able pilot, brave and reliable and his partner Jant is our communications specialist. What we used to call a radio operator, but with all this new gadgetry combined with the Rivitir's innate magical abilities, well, the nomenclature had to keep apace, I guess. I have been toying with the title Queen Captain myself. I'd be QC Rivitir instead of Capt. Rivitir. Hmmm. </p>
<p> Well, I might have been daydreaming when an alien flying saucer, commonly known as a UFO, pulled up right beside us, because when I glanced out my window and saw an alien a couple meters away grinning back at me I, well, I jumped a meter in the air, bumping my head on the ceiling. I looked at Rover and he was rubbing his head, as were Brak and Jant, and all were wearing the mystified expression of someone rudely awakened. </p>
<p> “Jant!” I barked professionally, “Get on the radio and see what they want.” </p>
<p> “Onnit!” she snapped and started turning dials and pulling knobs on her console. </p>
<p> “Rover! Do not roll that window down,” I commanded forcefully. </p>
<p> “Onnit!” he snapped, reaching over and rolling the window down. An icy blast, roaring loudly, filled the bridge. </p>
<p> “Do NOT Rover, I repeat, do NOT roll that window down!” </p>
<p> “It's already down, Captain,” he informed me, his ears flapping in the icy wind. </p>
<p> “Roll it up! Now!” I screamed, maintaining my professional demeanor in the face of outrageous fortune. </p>
<p> “They want to place an order, Captain,” Jant yelled over the wind. </p>
<p> I yelled, “WHAT?” at the exact same moment that Rover finished rolling the window up, instantly returning the bridge to its normal quiet hum and making my shout five times louder than necessary. Everyone looked at me with round eyes. </p>
<p> Putting my smart looking captain's hat back on, I repeated. “What? What did they,” I nodded toward the aliens, “want?” </p>
<p> “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Jant was saying into the microphone, listening with her headphones. Then she looked at me, “They want to know if the crazy lady with the weird hat is the manager.” She stopped and listened for a moment, then asked, “Oh, and they want to know if we have those fried potato sticks, called fries or something?” </p>
<p> “Jant,” I asked calmly, “have we ever had fries?” I had a bad feeling about the Rivitir's current appearance. </p>
<p> Jant looked at me blankly for a moment, then said, “Well, I think we did last Thursday, wasn't it Rover?” </p>
<p> Rover was smiling at the aliens and looked back at us. “What?” he asked. </p>
<p> “Tell the aliens we're closed,” I told Jant. “Brak,” I continued, “take us down here please. Find a nice spot and land, and Rover, figure out where we're at.” </p>
<p> I went to my room and stared blankly out the window. </p>
<p> When we landed, I returned to the bridge. Outside I could see desert, endless sand dunes and sagebrush with an occasional cactus or scrub brush here and there. In the far, far distance there appeared to be purple shadowed mountain silhouettes barely poking above the horizon, under dark clouds and showing occasional flashes of lightning. A buzzard landed outside and stared at me through the window. </p>
<p> “Uh, Rover, where're we at?” </p>
<p> He looked out the window. “Endless Desert, ma'am,” he replied, somewhat wistfully. </p>
<p> “Uh-huh,” I said, “but what's it called?” </p>
<p> “Endless Desert,” he replied, with a worried look. </p>
<p> “Its name is Endless Desert?” I asked incredulously. </p>
<p> “Yes, ma'am. I mean, just look at it.” I looked at it. We all looked at it. </p>
<p> “It does have an endless aspect to it,” I mused. The light was odd because of the cloud cover. It was odd that it was totally overcast. I always thought deserts should have a scorching sun and blue skies. </p>
<p> Just then there was a tapping at our door and Jant opened it. The buzzard that had been staring at me now stood outside our door. </p>
<p> “What are you doing?” he demanded. </p>
<p> “Huh?” Jant said, then she pointed at me. “Ask her, she's in charge.” </p>
<p> “We're looking at stuff,” I said. “You know, like explorers.” </p>
<p> “You're tourists?” he asked, with a sneer. “Tourists with burgers? </p>
<p> “Well, yeah, I guess you could put it that way,” I replied with a frown. How odd. “Why do you want to know?” </p>
<p> “You're on my land,” he answered. </p>
<p> “Oh. I didn't see any signs or markers or anything. I mean, how were we supposed to know?” I said with a shrug. </p>
<p> “Ignorance of the law is nine tenths of owning it,” he stated, scowling at me. </p>
<p> “Possession is nine tenths of the law,” I corrected him, “Not . . .” </p>
<p> “Thass right!” he exclaimed, “An I owns it!” </p>
<p> “Okay then, we'll leave,” I said, with a shrug. </p>
<p> He stared at me with . . . well, it’s hard to tell with buzzard expressions, but it felt like consternation. I was confused as I began to close the door, saying, “Well, I hope you have a nice . . .” </p>
<p> “You could stay,” he said quickly. I stopped closing the door. He continued, “I give you permission. If you like.” </p>
<p> “Oh. Well, okay,” I said, uncertainly. Pause. “Would you like to come in?” I asked, “Maybe have some tea?” </p>
<p> “A little water would be nice, with some fries please,” he answered, stepping in. “Wow, this place ain't atall what it looks like onna outside!” he exclaimed, upon seeing our spacious and luxurious home. </p>
<p> “No it doesn't,” I told him with a chuckle. “It's a dimensional thing, not sure I understand it myself.” </p>
<p> “Wale ain't that somethin!” he exclaimed with a chuckle. </p>
<p> “No, not really,” Brak began, but I shook my head no at him. </p>
<p> “I'm sorry Mr. uh, buzzard, but Brak was going to get all technical. It's not really a thing, you see, our space here, it is, but it's also not, that's all. So. What do you do for fun around here?” </p>
<p> “Huh? Wale you can call me Ray an this here space is the most amazin thing I ever seen!” </p>
<p> “It's not a thing,” Brak murmured. </p>
<p> “Shush,” I shushed at Brak, then smiled at Ray. “Gosh Ray. Uh, that's a nice name. It short for Raymond? Or could it be Raynaldo?” I guessed. </p>
<p> “Hyuck, hyuck,” Ray said. I'm pretty sure it was a laugh. “Ya'll missed on both yer guesses! No ma'am, I'm Ray Volting and us Volting's been in these hyar parts for a darn long time. Harumph!” I watched him, unsure what to say. “Darn long,” he added. </p>
<p> “I'll bet,” Jant said, returning from the kitchen. “Here's your fries and water.” </p>
<p> “Tanks a lot!” </p>
<p> “So, were your people the first settlers here?” Rover asked. </p>
<p> “Yep, thass right. Why there weren't nothin hyar but desert afore we come along. Mmm, good fries.” I was impressed that Jant had found some fries in the kitchen to heat up. They did look good. </p>
<p> “You've managed the property nicely,” Jant said, looking out a window and nodding her approval. I couldn't see any difference between this desert and a hundred other deserts I've seen, I mean a desert is pretty much a desert after all, but I nodded agreement. </p>
<p> “Thank ya, ma'am,” Ray said, nodding his head. “Me and the missus got a nice spread over in Driendrier Gulch, and we're very happy there. Hoping for some rain, though,” he nodded upward, “haven't had a drop in three yars.” </p>
<p> “I'll bet,” Jant said. </p>
<p> “Got some propity available now, if'n yer intrested,” he said, grimacing at Jant. It could have been a smile. “Get ya in cheap, afore the rush come.” </p>
<p> “Oh, well, that is nice Ray, but I'm perfectly happy living here on the Rivitir,” Jant replied. </p>
<p> “I'll bet,” Ray said, looking around. </p>
<p> Later when Ray left, I walked him out. When I turned to go back in, I wasn't surprised to see the Rivitir's outer appearance was that of a hamburger stand. Inside I ordered the Rivitir to change her looks. “We don't sell fries,” I told her. </p>
<p> As we resumed skimming the cloud tops, I settled into my Captain's chair. I hope Rover leaves the window down, and that Rivitir's chosen a more functional appearance this time.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/70116922022-07-10T11:04:16-07:002022-07-10T11:04:16-07:00The Pugnacious Mr. Puffup - By Rosy<p>A play in three acts by Rosy Rivitir </p>
<p>The Players: </p>
<p>Detective-Inspector Gee . . . . . . Rosy Gee </p>
<p>Sergeant Goat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Brakly Goat </p>
<p>Arch-Criminal Brad Puffup . . . Brad Puffup </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty, Forensics . . . . . . . . Dr. Snarky </p>
<p>Queen of Police . . . . . . . . . . . . .Sassy Fat </p>
<p>King Overwood . . . . . . . . . . . . .Anyone who looks and sounds Kingly. </p>
<p>Narrator . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A voice, mysterious and compelling. </p>
<p>(Actor and stage directions are parenthesized.) </p>
<p>- Act One - </p>
<p>*Scene One </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>A rundown motel room, probably on the wrong side of town. The gangster, Grand Riddance has been murdered in a curious way. His body is pinned to the wall by a spear through his chest, leaving him dangling about half a meter above the floor. He wears a surprised expression. Inspector Gee enters the room followed by Sgt. Goat. Dr. Snooty is measuring how far the body is above the floor. </p>
<p>DI Gee: Well it looks like this gangster got murdered, eh, Dr. Snooty? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Yes, the preliminary findings would seem to indicate murder most foul, but further tests must be done before any conclusions can be drawn. It could easily be suicide or even an accident. </p>
<p>(Sgt. Goat, examining the spear, turns and looks at Dr. Snooty with round, disbelieving eyes. Dr. Snooty does not notice.) </p>
<p>DI Gee: Uh, well it's sort of difficult to see this as a suicide. I mean, the guy is what, half a meter above the floor, put there by the force of the spear? </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Precisely. I'm glad you see what I'm seeing. Sometimes only I can see the truth. </p>
<p>DI Gee: Uh, what truth is that? </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: The truth of this accidental suicide, of course. Hmmm, let me see . . . </p>
<p>(Dr. Snooty peers intently at the spear, then jerks back in surprise.) </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Dang! This spear is from a totally undiscovered tribe in the deepest and darkest jungles, somewhere in Mish, probably. </p>
<p>(Dr. Snooty looks at DI Gee with haunted eyes. Sgt Goat is surreptitiously examining the crime scene and looks over at Dr. Snooty.) </p>
<p>Sgt. Goat: What the heck, doctor? How could this spear get here from Mish? And just who are these undiscovered savages? </p>
<p>(Slowly Dr. Snooty turns and looks at Sgt. Goat with a round eyed, amazed expression.) </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: It's the Umpalumpa Tribe! And this here shows just how far they can hurl spears! </p>
<p>(The orchestra plays some ominously threatening music. They all stare with unfocused, dazed expressions as the curtain falls.) </p>
<p>- Act One - </p>
<p>*Scene Two </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>The room resembles a rundown motel room but it is not. It is the Mayor's Office. </p>
<p>Mayor Morpork, apparent victim number two, is dangling about half a meter above the floor with a spear through his chest, pinning him to the wall of his own swanky office. He wears a surprised expression. Dr. Snooty is examining him as DI Gee and Sgt. Goat enter the room. Dr. Snooty looks up with a grim expression. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Hello DI Gee, Sergeant. Only I can see the truth. </p>
<p>DI Gee: Uh-huh. It's that undiscovered Umpalumpa Tribe again, isn't it? </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: We haven't got to that yet; we're still examining this mysterious copy-cat accidental suicide. </p>
<p>(He pokes the dangling corpse a couple times then bends over to measure the distance to the floor.) </p>
<p>DI Gee: I see. So what makes this an accidental suicide? </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Only I can see the truth. </p>
<p>(Sgt. Goat is examining the spear. He now looks over to speak.) </p>
<p>Sgt. Goat: This spear is exactly like the last one, the one that accidentally caused the suicide of Grand Riddance, the gangster. Didn't that spear go missing? </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Just so Sergeant, just so. </p>
<p>DI Gee: So where'd it go? And why would a prominent figure like Wantim Morpork, the Mayor for gosh sakes, accidentally commit suicide, using Umpalumpa technology to impale himself on his office wall half a meter above the floor? Accidentally. </p>
<p>(Dr. Snooty seems about to speak when DI Gee cuts him off.) </p>
<p>DI Gee: Yes, I know. Only you can see the truth. So maybe you could share it, you know? This is a police investigation, after all, and you are police, more or less, 'cause we gotta figure these mysterious accidental suicides out. So spill it! What is the truth? </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: You are too close to my brilliance already, philistine. </p>
<p>DI Gee: Well, phooey then! I don't mind backing up. Come along Sergeant. </p>
<p>(DI Gee and Sgt. Goat exit in a huff. Dr. Snooty begins trying to pull the spear out, but it's pretty firmly stuck and he's straining.) </p>
<p>(Brad Puffup sneaks in silently from behind.) </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: Here, let me help you with that. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Dr. Snooty is surprised, glancing briefly at Brad with a puzzled expression before resuming his pulling, as Brad reaches up and begins yanking and pulling on the spear with him.) </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Thanks. </p>
<p>(Just then the spear pulls loose and the body crashes to the floor. Brad brandishes the spear high, like a victorious warrior might do, laughing with pleasure. Then he threatens Dr. Snooty with the spear.) </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: Thanks sucker. And don't get any ideas, you understand? You've seen what my spear can do. </p>
<p>(Brad Puffup walks away, twirling the spear like a baton and whistling a stirring and patriotic melody. Dr. Snooty, dumbfounded, watches him go.) </p>
<p>(There is sinister villain music as the curtain drops.) </p>
<p>- Act Two - </p>
<p>*Scene One </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>The room resembles a rundown motel room, but it is not. It is the police station. </p>
<p>Police Queen Sassy Fat is reading a paper as Dr. Snooty comes running in. He has seen the truth and is now hoping to evade his own misleading actions, actions that he'd done in his clearly misguided support of Brad Puffup. </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Queen Fat! I've solved the mysterious accidental suicide cases that have been plaguing our city for so long! </p>
<p>Police Queen Fat: Yeah? Howzat? </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: It's Brad Puffup, pretty sure! He just grabbed that spear that got the Mayor like a victorious victor, a savage murderer, which means, of course, probably, that those unsolved accidental suicides weren't accidental at all and they likely weren't suicides either! </p>
<p>Police Queen Fat: A compelling case Doctor. Unfortunately, Brad Puffup is our new Mayor since Mayor Morpork, well, I guess now allegedly accidentally committed suicide. </p>
<p>(Just then DI Gee and Sgt. Goat enter the room.) </p>
<p>DI Gee: Did I hear that right? Brad Puffup is Mayor? </p>
<p>Police Queen Fat: Yup </p>
<p>DI Gee: How did that happen? He's a prime suspect in the accidental suicide cases which we now have reason to believe were, </p>
<p>(There is some tense, ominous music. DI Gee speaks slowly, emphasizing each nefarious word.) </p>
<p>DI Gee: Murder. Most. Foul. </p>
<p>Police Queen Fat: Gosh. Well, the acting Mayor appointed him. </p>
<p>DI Gee: Who's the acting Mayor? </p>
<p>Police Queen Fat: Brad Puffup. Appointed by the interim Mayor Brad Puffup who stepped up to take the job, temporarily of course, when Mayor Morpork, er, well, allegedly accidentally committed suicide. It's all quite legal, Inspector, plus it makes Brad look like an upstanding citizen, willing to take on the cruel mantle of government, when needed. And everyone knows the Mayor is above the law. Free of all faults and blemishes, that he may rule without bias. Amen. </p>
<p>DI Gee and Sgt. Goat together: No! We're not gonna take it! </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>The situation did indeed look bad, with nepotism and graft seeming at home in the Mayor's office. Police Queen Fat ponders. </p>
<p>Just then Brad Puffup walks in carrying a bloody spear, just like the ones used to impale Riddance and Morpork. DI gee points angrily at him. </p>
<p>DI Gee: Brad Puffup! I accuse you of murder most foul! </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: You better be careful what you say, Inspector. Remember, I'm the </p>
<p>Mayor. </p>
<p>(Brad Puffup points the spear menacingly at DI Gee and is heard growling low in his throat. Then he turns and enters the Mayor's private office. Meanwhile, Dr. Snooty has disappeared, who knows where?) </p>
<p>(Ominous music plays. DI Gee, Sgt. Goat and Police Queen Sassy Fat all stare with horrified expressions as the curtain falls.) </p>
<p>҉ Intermission. Smoke 'em if ya got 'em! </p>
<p>La-la, la-la, la-la, la-la, la-la, la-la, la-la-ah! La-la, la-la, la-la, la-la, la-la-ah! </p>
<p>- Act Three - </p>
<p>*Scene One </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>The room resembles a rundown motel room but it is not. It is a TV station. </p>
<p>Brad Puffup is preparing a press release to be broadcast to every single person in Elvenstead, even if they don't have a TV. He definitely has power and money behind him, somewhere. Now the broadcast begins and all TVs, no matter what, show the following pronouncement from a smirking Brad Puffup. </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: Hello you people! Yes, all of you, no matter what! That includes you, King Overwood! I hope you got your TV on because I am taking over and you need to know it. That's right! I'm now the Emperor of all Elvenstead, and soon the world! </p>
<p>(Triumphant music blares out as Brad laughs maniacally.) </p>
<p> </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>As the triumphant music blares from their TVs many get up to turn down the volume, but it is useless. Brad continues to laugh maniacally. </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: As of sometime this morning, pretty early in fact, I am officially the Emperor of Elvenstead, appointed by the Mayor. As Emperor I am even more above the law than ever. Way higher up than any of you puny elves and faeries can ever hope to achieve. So high that you'll never, ever see me, not once, never, but you'll surely feel my iron grip and the heel of my iron boot! You are powerless! Resistance is futile! </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>Brad laughs maniacally as movie reels appear of marching elves with spears, bows and arrows, some with hammers, and all with fierce, determined expressions, all stalwart and true, marching off to war! There is patriotic music playing. </p>
<p>The movie reels are, in fact, from Elvenstead's last war, over a hundred years ago against the trolls, a detail that is curiously missing from this broadcast. </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: There! Even now my followers march, see them! Look at them! Millions armed and prepared to take what is mine! </p>
<p>(His eyes shine as he waves his arms, gazing skyward.) </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: Taking what has always been mine! For I am the brightest, nay, the most brilliant star in the sky, I whose wisdom transcends all understanding! </p>
<p>(He strikes a heroic pose, then glares into the cameras.) </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: And you better listen up, you little people! You'll never get it, see? I know more than all of you, combined! So don't even try to get me! Just obey and remember . . . </p>
<p>(The reels begin again, now including distant cannon fire and patriotic music, with Brad's stentorian tones dominating.) </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: Only I Can See the Truth! </p>
<p>(There is a disturbance to the side, then Dr. Snooty appears.) </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Darn it Puffup, that's my line! </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: Uh-uh, I thought of it first. </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Did not, I did! Plus I'm the brightest star in the sky! That's my line too! </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: No, I am! </p>
<p>(DI Gee appears, then Police Queen Fat. DI Gee speaks with force.) </p>
<p>DI Gee: Quiet you two! </p>
<p>(DI Gee looks at Brad Puffup.) </p>
<p>DI Gee: Sgt. Goat has checked the records you dastardly villain, and it's not legal for the Mayor to appoint the King. </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: Too late! I'm already Emperor. I'm even higher, and higher than that plus way more above the law and you can't touch me. </p>
<p>(Brad puffs up.) </p>
<p>Brad Puffup: Remember, Only I Can See the Truth. </p>
<p>(Dr. Snooty leaps forward and slaps Brad, then pushes him out of the way. He glares at the still rolling cameras before speaking.) </p>
<p>Dr. Snooty: Listen you people! That was my line! I invented it way before Brad! Clearly, I am the brightest star! Most brilliant too! I've always said that, long before this charlatan came along, which is why only I can . . . </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>Sgt Goat was seen in the background approaching the alleged Emperor Brad Puffup with handcuffs ready, just as the cameras stopped, cutting off Dr. Snooty's impassioned plea and leaving the stunned audience to wonder just what it was that only Dr. Snooty could do? </p>
<p>When the TV image is restored, it is the alleged King Overwood speaking, alone at the podium. </p>
<p>Alleged King Overwood: People of Elvenstead! We are in a crisis. Right now there's confusion and no one knows for sure who's actually in charge. We, that is the King and I, believe Brad Puffup's claims to be specious. We have instructed the Royal Lawyers to look into it. </p>
<p>(Alleged King Overwood gestures to the side, then DI Gee and Sgt. Goat come into view. At the last minute Police Queen Fat squeezes into the picture.) </p>
<p>Alleged King Overwood: Meanwhile, people, Inspector Gee of the Elvenstead Coppers, along with Sgt. Goat, have captured the arch-criminal Brad Puffup, bringing him to face justice for murder most foul! This villain may or may not be your Emperor, time will tell, but for now let's just all give a hearty cheer for Inspector Rosy Gee! </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>Everyone, pretty near, in Elvenstead gives a cheer, many quite hearty. Police Queen Fat steps forward and waves into the cameras so that most viewers believe her to be Inspector Gee. The last thing you see as the curtain falls is Police Queen Fat's grinning face, with the sounds of cheering in the background. </p>
<p>(The curtains close to triumphant and patriotic music.) </p>
<p>- Act Two - </p>
<p>*Scene Two </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>The room resembles a rundown motel room but it is not. It is the throne room at Gladheim Palace, the ancient seat of government in Elvenstead and the alleged King Overwood's ancestral home. Alleged Emperor Brad Puffup currently resides in the Royal dungeons, pertaining to other matters, but, nonetheless, screaming executive privilege over and over. Alleged King Overwood is seated on the throne as DI Gee and Sgt. Goat enter. </p>
<p>Alleged King Overwood: What'd you find out, Inspector? </p>
<p>DI Gee: Well alleged King, first thing we found out was that it was definitely not legal for Brad to declare himself Interim Mayor after murdering Mayor Morpork. Second, we learned that not only does the Mayor not have the power to appoint an emperor but that since the Interim Mayor was illegal all of that Mayor's appointments, including that of the alleged Emperor Puffup, are illegal, null and void. </p>
<p>Further, we found that the alleged Emperor Brad Puffup allegedly committed murder most foul not once, but twice, using the same spear each time. Then he allegedly tried to blame the innocent Umpalumpa Tribe, who are somewhere in Mish. Very difficult to meet with, I'm told, but they are clearly mad as hornets over these attempts to blame them for these two murders most foul. </p>
<p>You should know, alleged King, that the alleged Emperor's guilt in all these matters is easily proven with the solid evidence we already have in the vaults. </p>
<p>Sgt. Goat: And I'd like to add, if I may alleged King, that you can believe in the Umpalumpa innocence, because really, I know. Mish is much too far away to be throwing a spear from, and that's for sure. </p>
<p>DI Gee: Just so. I would add that the blood of both victims was found on Brad's spear, a spear that he got just last month through mail-order. Came with a powerful crossbow that could easily pin someone to a wall. Both are in the police evidence vault. </p>
<p>Alleged King Overwood: Good job Inspector! But why didn't the alleged Emperor Brad Puffup try to cover up his crimes? </p>
<p>DI Gee: Because he believed that holding high office, even illegally gotten high office, would place him above the law. He thought he could just spear whoever got in his way, then, based on his self-professed vast public support, claim executive privilege. A stupid, naive notion, yet his evil scheme almost succeeded, fooling a startling number of people. Until Sgt. Goat, that is, working tirelessly, uncovered an ancient rule, rule number one, in fact, stating that no one is above the law. A rule that, despite its antiquity, is still in force today. </p>
<p>Sgt. Goat: Soon as we got that rule, I arrested the nefarious Puffup. Got him at his own nefarious press conference. </p>
<p>Alleged King Overwood: Well, well now, that sounds just fine. That, uh, well that means I'm King, right? </p>
<p>DI Gee: That is the preliminary findings of the preliminary committee, alleged King. They will now forward it to the legal mumbo-jumbo department, who are sure to pass it on as well, so there is confidence, high ranking confidence, mind you, that your claim will be approved. In the happy occurrence of this blessed event I would remind you, alleged albeit quite likely King, to please remember: Rule Number One. </p>
<p>Alleged King Overwood: Yaaay! I can't wait to tell everyone. I feel like a King already! </p>
<p>- Narrator - </p>
<p>Within a short period of time the Royal Legal Department announced: Alleged King Overwood, hereditary monarch of Elvenstead, is hereby deemed the probable true ruler against the allegations of the alleged Emperor Brad Puffup, attempted usurper. </p>
<p>In further shocking news the recently deposed alleged Emperor, also known as the arch-criminal Brad Puffup, has been charged with double murder most foul. Sounds serious. </p>
<p>(Victorious patriotic music is heard as the final curtain falls.) </p>
<p> </p>
<p>- finis - </p>
<p>The audience cheers and cheers, many are crying with joy as a huge standing ovation ensues. The actors come out and bow three times.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/70116912022-07-10T11:02:26-07:002022-07-10T11:02:27-07:00Shpeel Wamos and the Jondoes - By Rosy<p>Part One - Buffer </p>
<p> We brought our All-Vehicle, the Rivitir, to a landing on a broad flat plain. There is a large farm nearby next to a good sized stream that roughly paralleled the gravel road we'd landed on. I'm Rosy Rivitir, Captain of the AV Rivitir and my crew consists of Rover, Brak and Jant, navigator, pilot, and communications specialist in that order. We go everywhere, looking at stuff and trying to do good or maybe rescue people or, well, whatever we can to make our planet, our home, a more amenable place. </p>
<p> We pulled the Riviter over to the side so as to not block traffic, although we couldn't see any, nor any movement at all for that matter, and Rover and I set out to investigate. Something did seem amiss. Brak and Jant stayed with the Rivitir, our standard procedure for mysterious investigations. </p>
<p> When we got to the farmhouse it was eerily silent. I knocked on the door with Rover behind me but could hear no sounds inside. Suddenly ten thousand elves appeared from out of nowhere and surrounded us, except for the door, which slowly opened revealing a cat-like elf with long pointed ears. His facial expression told me that he was no one to mess with, and I stepped back, stepping on Rover's foot, who yelped. </p>
<p> “What do you want?” the cat-elf demanded. </p>
<p> “We're explorers and professional heroes,” I explained, “and when we saw this area it looked darned interesting. Very quiet and still, up 'till now. I don't believe it's ever been discovered, has it?” </p>
<p> “What do you mean, 'discovered'?” </p>
<p> “Discovered by us, of course. Me and my crew. This here's Rover,” I gestured at Rover, “and he's part of the crew. Navigator in fact.” </p>
<p> “Is that so?” the cat-elf asked, sneering at Rover. “You navigated to here, Rover?” </p>
<p> “Uh, well no,” Rover admitted, “First I started with the wrong map, but I didn't know it and when my compass began acting strange, I mean, showing north where I'm pretty sure . . .” </p>
<p> “Quiet!” the cat-elf snapped, “You telling me you're lost Rover?” </p>
<p> “We're all lost,” I interjected, “not just Rover.” </p>
<p> The cat-elf gave me a withering look and I stepped back onto Rover's paw again, Rover yelped again, then an elf in the guard behind Rover yelped then another behind him and on and on. Yelp, yelp, yelp. Everyone backed up a couple steps. </p>
<p> The cat-elf scowled. “Really? You're just lost?” he asked incredulously. </p>
<p> “Well, yes,” I answered, “although to be fair we're always lost. Rare's the time where we know where we're going is the problem. And what happens, usually, is we get curious about wherever we're at and come out have a look around, like we're doing now.” </p>
<p> The cat-elf looked out over our heads, at the horizon. “We thought you was one of Count Snarkey's minions, from over there,” he said solemnly, while holding his gaze on the horizon. Then he looked back at me, then at the multitude surrounding us. “It's okay lads. They ain't Browns. The ten thousand elves relaxed and looking around I was pleased to see that my earlier assessment was off a little. There were now about twenty and they milled about, eyeing us surreptitiously. </p>
<p> “These here are Jondoes, our security team as well as being farmers,” the cat-elf announced beaming at the small group. “and I'm Shpeel Wamos. I'm the boss hereabouts, and these Jondoes are my team.” </p>
<p> “Nice to meet you all,” I answered, “I'm Rosy Rivitir and Rover here, who you've already met, is part of my crew.” </p>
<p> “Crew huh? That your spaceship over there?” Shpeel Wamos asked, pointing at the Rivitir parked out on the lane. </p>
<p> “Yep, that's ours,” I answered, giving the Rivitir a fond look. “I'm the captain and Rover here is the navigator. </p>
<p> “Nice,” he said, smiling. “We're farmers here. Our land is called Buffer, on the border between Utgard and Mish. I'm the boss and the Jondoes, Jaindoes and Dosidoes are who does the actual farming. I mostly do security these days.” I could see the elf guard was dispersing, going to different areas to work. There seemed to be quite a lot already out in the fields. Maybe there had been ten thousand. </p>
<p>Part Two - Utgard </p>
<p> I knew about Utgard, a generally abysmal strip of land with Mish on one side and Joten, the Troll Kingdom, on the other. “What about this Count and the Browns you mentioned,” I asked. “I never heard of them before.” Although Snarkey was a name I knew, I hoped it wasn't the mad Dr. Snarkey. </p>
<p> “They's the raiders,” he answered, scowling at the horizon. “They come from over there.” He pointed at the horizon. </p>
<p> “That's a problem, innit?” I asked, looking at the horizon. </p>
<p> “Me and the team think so,” he answered. “They steal crops, block ditches and destroy equipment.” </p>
<p> “Dang, that is a problem,” I agreed. “Whatever happened to peaceful coexistence anyway? Do you know why they do it?” He shook his head no. “Well, tell me more about this Count, the Browns and over there. Who knows, we might be able to help.” </p>
<p> “Hmmm. Well, okay. Couldn't hurt, I guess. He ushered us into the farmhouse where we sat on comfortable couches. “Jon!” he called. </p>
<p> Soon an elf walked into the room. “Yes boss?” </p>
<p> “Bring us some tea, would you?” </p>
<p> “Yes, boss, I'm onnit!” </p>
<p> “Oh, and Jon? Would you please send Jon in?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, boy!” He ducked out the door. </p>
<p> Mr. Wamos smiled at us. “I've sent for Jon who is our field boss. Now, to begin, Count Snarkey is an evil warlord lurking in a gloomy castle over there.” He gestured in the same direction he'd called over there while outside. “We think he might be a bear, or maybe a giant, or maybe something else, we're just not sure. One thing we do know is he's fearsome.” Just then there was a tapping at the door and Mr. Wamos called out, “Come in!” An elf, identical to the others we'd seen of the Jondoes, entered. “Ah, Jon, there you are. This here's Capt. Rosy and Rover who could maybe help us against the Brown raids.” </p>
<p> “Ah, well that's fine,” Jon said, smiling and nodding at us. </p>
<p> “So tell us about the Browns,” I asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah, the raiders,” Jon began. “Well, these are the notorious brown weasel's from out of the hinterlands of Elvenstead.” Oh my. I knew about these guys. I'd wondered why we haven't heard from them in a while. </p>
<p> “Seems like Count Snarkey,” Mr. Wamos continued, “needs something here, but we don't know what. So he just sends his raiders, always looking, always breaking things.” </p>
<p> “They take some food crops but mostly they just trample them,” Jon said. “They just wanna wreck things I think, but why?” </p>
<p> “I dunno, yet” I answered. “But by golly, we're going to get to the bottom of this.” I stood. “Com'on Rover, let's get back to the Rivitir.” I looked at Mr. Wamos. “We're going to investigate this matter Mr. Wamos . . .” </p>
<p> “Oh you can call me Shpeel,” he broke in. </p>
<p> “Oh, well, Shpeel, we're going to investigate first then we'll get back to you as soon as we know what to do.” </p>
<p>Part Three - Snarkey </p>
<p> When we got back to the Riviter I started checking the country around us with our maps and stuff. We were fairly close to Utgard which was certainly where Count Snarkey was operating from. I think we needed to talk to Count Snarkey, so Brak and I headed over to Utgard. </p>
<p> As Brak and I approached the border the first thing we noticed is how clearly defined it is. There's a straight line that is degradation and decay on one side and life, albeit struggling, on the other. A natural yet perfectly straight line marking the border. Brak and I stared in horrified amazement. Off in the distance I could see the black silhouette of a castle that seemed in perpetual gloom. It was afternoon so perhaps that was why. I pointed to the castle. “That's where we're going,” I said, heroically. </p>
<p> “Gosh,” Brak answered, staring in round eyed horror. </p>
<p> I led the way across the border. It felt instantly colder and a sense of doom fell on us, which seemed to increase as we progressed further into Utgard. We went slowly, cautiously across this malevolent terrain. There were patches of black ice despite it being mid-summer, and sudden marshy areas with lots of slithering things. Something started throwing small pebbles at the back of our heads but no matter how quickly we turned there was no one there, no one ever seen throwing them. By the time we got to the castle we'd both had enough. </p>
<p> “Darn it Count Snarkey!” I yelled. “Get out here and talk to us, 'cause this whole aggravatin' business is out of hand!” I was angry. </p>
<p> “Yeah!” Brak yelled. He was angry too. </p>
<p> Soon this so-called count appeared and sure enough, just as I suspected, it was the mad Dr. Snarkey trying to hide his identity by changing titles. A clever ruse but one that failed. Behind him several brown weasels peered out. </p>
<p> “So, Doctor Snarkey,” I said, drawing out the doctor part. “Just what have you and these horrid brown weasels been up to?” </p>
<p> He glared at me, his nemesis. “Zounds! I cannot believe you have found me Rivitir! Listen, everything I'm doing is perfectly legal here, so go away.” He began waving us away. “Shoo! Shoo!” The weasels were laughing. </p>
<p> “But it's not legal in Mish!” I yelled. “And that's why we're here. Raid all you want in Utgard, villain, but stay out of Mish!” </p>
<p> “Fie you say!” he yelled back. “There's nothing, nay, less than nothing in Utgard and you know it! We must raid Mish to survive.” Now he seemed near to crying. </p>
<p> “Then why don't you clean this place up?” I asked. “Get rid of this dark cloud and plant some crops. It'd take as much energy to do that as it does to raid.” </p>
<p> “But raiding is fun! Breaking things is bliss!” </p>
<p> “That, Doctor Snarkey, is why we must stop you. If you raid Buffer or anywhere in Mish again, we'll use the Rivitir to drop indelible ink balloons on your weasels, making them red instead of brown. They won't be able to do much sneaking around when they're bright red, I think.” He backed up and the weasels glared at me, making hissing noises. “Then we'll bring the Rivitir here, Dr. Snarkey, and I will direct the heroes Brak,” Brak puffed up. “and Jant to break things, your things, using our advanced technologies. The Rivitir is not a war machine, Snarkey, but it can sure break things if necessary.” </p>
<p> “Zounds! Foiled again!” Dr. Snarkey exclaimed angrily. He shook his fist at us then turned to the weasels. “Pack our bags weasels, we're going back to Elvenstead. More pickings back there anyway!” He laughed in his maniacal way as he slammed the door. </p>
<p>Part Four - Peace </p>
<p> When we got back to Mish, we told Shpeel Wamos what had happened. We parked the Rivitir in a field and the Jondoes covered it with brush to hide it and we waited for a couple weeks to make sure the evil Dr. Snarkey was really gone. </p>
<p> After two and a half weeks without disturbances we patrolled the area, including Utgard and the dark castle, but everything was the usual abnormal. Rover and I investigated the castle and found only the ubiquitous Utgard residents; snakes, rats, spiders, and other creepy things, but no brown weasels and no Dr. Snarkey. The place was deserted, ready for the next brigand to show up and take possession. We were all glad when we left Utgard. </p>
<p> There was a big celebration in Buffer and on the Wamos Farm! The Jondoes, Jaindoes and Dosidoes danced, sang, and frolicked in the warm summer sun, and well into the night. </p>
<p> Shpeel Wamos, along with Jon and, well, Jon and Jon came to see us as we were packing up to leave the next day. </p>
<p> “Hey Shpeel, assorted Jons,” I said by way of greeting. Shpeel seemed able to tell them apart but I cannot. </p>
<p> “Hey Rosy, Rover,” Shpeel reliplied, then, “Oh, hey Brak, Jant,” when he saw them in the other room. </p>
<p> Brak and Jant carried their bags in, joining us in the main room where we all stood around our packed bags that we had brought from the Rivitir. And while the farmhouse is quite large there are several Jondoes, Jaindoes and Dosidoes living there, along with Shpeel, so that to us, used to our spacious quarters on the Rivitir, it seemed cramped. It will be good to get home and see where we go next. </p>
<p> “We will always have a place here for you if you ever come this way again,” Shpeel told us. The Jondoes nodded agreement. </p>
<p> “It's been an honor working with you,” Jon said. </p>
<p> “Everyone is so grateful to have the raids stop,” Jon added. </p>
<p> “Yes,” Jon agreed. </p>
<p> “It's been a great pleasure for us,” I told them. “We are heroes after all, so this is just the kind of work we do.” I paused. “But I want to encourage you all to remain vigilant, for you are close to the dreaded Utgard.” </p>
<p> “We shall,” Shpeel Wamos agreed. “And I know that someday” he continued, “even Utgard and Joten will know peace.” </p>
<p> “Thank you Shpeel. I agree, and someday soon, I hope,” I answered. “Meanwhile, we love your farm and I hope we do land here again, only in happier circumstances.” </p>
<p> “Thanks for all your help, Jon,” Rover said to one of the Jons. “And you Jon for so skillfully hiding the Rivitir. It was brilliant.” </p>
<p> One of the Jons nodded, “Thanks Rover. We been hiding stuff for years so we're probably getting good at it.” </p>
<p> “You are.” Brak spoke up, “I needed Jon to show me before I could find the Rivitir again.” One of the Jons smiled and nodded. </p>
<p> “Well, gosh,” Shpeel said, “I wonder if we'll ever see you again?” </p>
<p> “Who knows?” I answered with a chuckle. “Some people we see a lot.” I was thinking of how often we cross paths with the nefarious Dr. Snarkey or the arch-criminal Brad Puffup, so I didn't name anybody. “But mostly we tend to show up in places where we're needed for something or other.” </p>
<p> “Some way to help out,” Rover added. </p>
<p> “Plus we love looking at stuff!” Jant sang out. </p>
<p> With that we headed for the Rivitir with heroic music playing from the Jondoe Orchestra.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69922752022-06-12T10:03:27-07:002022-06-12T10:03:27-07:00An Inspector Gee/Sgt. Goat Mysterious Mystery - By Rosy<p>Gee * Part One. What about the Lens? </p>
<p> “If there's one thing that I know for sure is that I don't know. This is an unequivocal fact. You need only ask me a few questions to know this as well.” </p>
<p> I watched the pixie closely. People who said things like that tended to know something. Thing is, I really didn't know anything either. In fact I'd say I knew a lot less than the pixie did, based on how well I was doing so far. He looked like a Len, one of those followers of the god Lenfast, the god of fast, and those guys were actually pretty fast, so we tried to block his escape routes. We'd found him lurking in front of the Big and Holy Church of Lenfast the Speedy, the main one I think, over on Verdandi Boulevard. </p>
<p> “So why do you say you don't know when I haven't even asked a question?” I asked. </p>
<p> “I don't know,” he answered. </p>
<p> “Yes, I believe you don't,” I said. He seemed to really not know. He looked smug. I looked away, unsure how to continue. </p>
<p> I'm Detective-Inspector Rosy Gee who, along with Sgt. Brakly Goat, solve many mysterious mysteries. Mysteries like our last investigation where we delved into the mysterious mystery of “Where Are The Ideas?” </p>
<p> Our current investigation, instituted when we reported the results of our last investigation, was quite simply, “Why?” as our commander, Queen of Police Captain Sassy Fat, so succinctly put it. It was a curious assignment, but then curious seems to be our lot. </p>
<p> “Well then, perhaps you might tell us Why?” I asked the pixie, pursuing our directive. </p>
<p> He gave me an odd look, “Why what?” he snapped. </p>
<p> “Nothing in particular, yet, well, encompassing everything, the big all, you could say, because I believe it to be the most important question of our time. And it's just, Why?” </p>
<p> “Why?” </p>
<p> “Yes, precisely. You said it exactly like the Police Queen did when she assigned us this baffling case.” </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat spoke up, “I think she wonders at times about the meaning of life, Ma'am, in particular, why we do what we do.” </p>
<p> “Exactly Sergeant. And we shall get to the bottom of this mystery whether you,” I pointed at the recalcitrant pixie, “help us or not.” </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat peered at the pixie. “What's your name and why do you think it is?” </p>
<p> The pixie looked confused then angry, “I ent saying nothing. Truth is, I don't know.” </p>
<p> “You don't know your name?” Sgt. Goat prodded. </p>
<p> “No I . . . well, I guess maybe I do know that.” He scowled at us. “It's Benlen Kwikfoot.” He looked uncertain, then defiant, “That's Lennerd Benlen Kwikfoot.” </p>
<p> I had a hunch he was high up in the church. “Thanks Lennerd,” I said. “So you got no thoughts about Why?” He looked at me suspiciously. “I mean, Why are we here? Why do we do what we do? That sort of thing. Why?” </p>
<p> “Speed,” he announced with certainty. </p>
<p> “Speed?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Yes.” He looked at me with a 'should I continue?' look. I nodded. “Well, all things move, Inspector. Everything, whether we can see it or not, moves. This movement is both of what we do and the vibration of what we do.” I nodded again. I think I was getting this. Anyway, Sgt. Goat was writing it in his notebook. “So the ultimate reason Why? is speed. To make your vibration as high as Lenfast the Speedy's, so that your vibration is the same as his, which is the same as heaven's.” </p>
<p> “Those vibrations attract and combine with other like vibrations, you could say?” Sgt. Goat asked. </p>
<p> “Just so. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a congregation to attend to. People with actual concerns.” He turned and walked away. </p>
<p> “Thank you Lennerd,” I called after him. He waved his hand without looking back. </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat looked at me, “Ma'am, it appears that the Lenfast Church is committed to 'Fast!' regardless of the situation.” </p>
<p> “That does seem to be their guiding light, Sergeant. Hmmm,” I said, thinking. “But is that the Universal Why? Is that the right Why? for everyone?” He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps we need to visit Maestro, at the wreckage of the Bop Bop duBop,” I continued, walking toward our secret police waggal, utilizing the amazing Blendin® technology developed by Bradco Inc., rendering it virtually invisible. Sgt. Goat made the vehicle visible so we could find it and when we did, I was dismayed to see new dings, dents, and scratches. Why? I wondered. </p>
<p> “It's because no one can see it,” Sgt. Goat stated, getting behind the wheel. “They bump into it unawares.” </p>
<p> “Unawarity of the law is no excuse, Sergeant,” I told him, huffing importantly. </p>
<p> “Yes, Ma'am,” he answered, angling our waggal into traffic with lights flashing. We had to keep all our lights on so that people could see us. </p>
<p>Gee * Part Two. Zing. Zing. Zing. </p>
<p> “Ever-body, zing, zing, zing! Ladi-dat-dat zing, zing, zing!” the great Maestro Songjoy was singing as we approached his corner niche in the wreckage of the Bop Bop duBop. Several Ballerina Bulls were dancing to his song in the vast empty space in front of him, vacated back when the wreckage first wrecked. The Bulls were majestic and beautiful, despite the Maestro's rather lame singing, which stopped as soon as he saw us. The Bulls continued to dance, hearing only their own music. </p>
<p> “Ah, Maestro, I'm glad I caught you!” I said, smiling at him. </p>
<p> He looked startled. “Caught me?” he asked. “I swear I had nothing to do with . . . uh, what did you, I mean, I didn't mean to say . . .” </p>
<p> “It's alright, Maestro,” I interjected. “We probably aren't here to arrest you. We just wanted to ask you some questions about our latest investigation.” </p>
<p> “There's no crime?” he asked, looking relieved. </p>
<p> “Do you know of any?” Sgt. Goat asked. </p>
<p> “Why no! No, of course not. I don't know a thing about any of those . . .” he looked startled. </p>
<p> “The only crime around here is the old, old music, honey,” a Ballerina Bull stated, walking up to us. </p>
<p> “Major, I don't think using old music, not that old I might add, is particularly illegal . . .” he looked at me questioningly, “It isn’t, is it?” </p>
<p> “No Maestro, old music isn't illegal,” I reassured him. </p>
<p> “How about twenty year-old music presented as new, Inspector?” Major asked. </p>
<p> I didn't know what to say. “Perhaps copyright infringement?” I suggested. “But it's not my department and that's not why we're here.” </p>
<p> They looked at me expectantly. </p>
<p> “Well, to begin I want to ask you both, if you don't mind,” I began. “You see, we're looking into the reason for Why?” </p>
<p> “Why what?” Maestro asked. </p>
<p> “Why everything,” I answered. “Why are we here and why do we do what we do?” Their eyes went round. </p>
<p> “It's because you're coppers,” came the annoying voice of Ego, who shouldn't even be there. “You're coppers and you ask stupid questions. That's why you're here and that's what you do.” </p>
<p> “Why aren't you at the Radio Galaxy?” I demanded. “Where you belong!” </p>
<p> Ego slowly turned and looked at me. He seemed to start seething and there were wisps of smoke coming from his feet. Suddenly, in a flash of blinding light, Ego transformed into Dr. Snarkey, Ego's radio persona, holding a pitchfork, glowing red with horns and wearing a black cape billowing in the wind. “You dare question me, foolish mortal?” he screamed in a huge voice. He seemed twice as large and there were lightning flashes all around. “Only I know why, for I am Why!” Now he was like a tornado surrounded by high winds and cracks of thunder. “Listen puny detectives! I am the reason Why!” He stamped his massive foot with that last Why! and the earth shook. Then he disappeared. </p>
<p> When the smoke cleared, I could see Maestro looking at me with a worried expression. “Am I under arrest now?” he asked. </p>
<p> “Ego's your friend?” I asked in angry disbelief. He nodded meekly. “Well, I oughta arrest you for that, but no, you're not under arrest.” </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat seemed confused. “I thought Ego was for the police, Ma'am? Even Dr. Snarkey seemed at times to be pro-police, not that I would ever listen, mind you, but still . . .” </p>
<p> “Not anymore,” I told him. “Ego is only for Ego. Always has been, always will be. He backed the police when it suited him, now it doesn't suit him.” Sgt. Goat appeared to be disturbed by this. </p>
<p> “Yes, it's true,” said Maestro “I'm Ego's only friend, or as close as anyone can get to being his friend, and I can tell you he'll drop anyone in a second if it will benefit him.” </p>
<p> “That's totally unscrupulous!” Sgt. Goat exclaimed. “Why would you ever be his friend?” </p>
<p> Maestro looked down with a sad expression. “I'm an idea man, make my living thinking new things up, except I haven't had a new idea in twenty years,” he said quietly. “I reshuffle my old scores every week and present them as new, and each week the audience cheers.” He looked at Sgt. Goat with a grave expression, “But the Bulls know better, they know it's a sham. The Bulls dance because that's who they are, they dance! They'll dance no matter what.” He paused. “But they hold me in contempt.” He looked forlorn and somehow worn out, then asked, “Why would anyone ever be my friend?” </p>
<p> Neither I nor Sgt. Goat could answer that question and we both felt bad when we left. </p>
<p>Gee * Part Three. The big Why. </p>
<p> “Why does the universe exist? That's the 'Why' we're looking for Sergeant. Not the why of Lenfast the Speedy, which is fine for the moment but not for the big Why,” As we left the Bop Bop duBop I looked back with sadness, “And I think they're all grappling with their own why's at the Bop Bop duBop. Not much help there, I think, not in our quest for the big Why anyway.” </p>
<p> “No Ma'am, it doesn't look like it, but I do get a feeling that somehow the speed of the Lens and the struggle at the Bop Bop duBop are connected, both a part of the big Why.” </p>
<p> “Perhaps those efforts, and maybe all efforts, are part of the mystery of the big Why?” I suggested. </p>
<p> “Yes, Ma'am. Clues if you will.” </p>
<p> “I agree Sergeant. So where might we go for insights into the big Why?” He shrugged, showing that he didn't know. </p>
<p> “I feel like we missed something at the Bop Bop duBop but I can't think what,” I said, trying to come up with something. We began walking down Verdandi Boulevard, leaving our squad waggal at the Bop Bop duBop. </p>
<p> It was a fine day in a particularly rainy spring, windy with patchy clouds and intermittent showers. We both wore a regulation mackintosh and paid the shifting sky no mind. I noticed a park a couple blocks down a side street. “C'mon Sergeant, let's check out that park. It looks meditative and maybe we'll get some ideas about where to go next.” </p>
<p> “Sounds good, Ma'am.” </p>
<p> We walked down the street when suddenly a squall arose, hitting us hard in the face with wind and icy rain. We lowered our heads and raised our arms before quickly ducking into a recessed storefront door. We knew the squall would pass, hopefully quickly, so we were standing, aimlessly waiting, when the shop's door opened. </p>
<p> “May I offer a warm, dry place to wait out the storm?” a gentle voice asked. It was difficult to see who it was because of the gloom both indoors and out. I wanted to turn on my flashlight but thought it might be rude when Sgt. Goat did just that. He shone his flashlight's piercing beam into the speaker's face who calmly closed his eyes as the light revealed a placid, simian countenance, wearing a slight smile but otherwise apparently unperturbed by the light. Now the figure stepped aside and gestured us in. </p>
<p> I stepped in and immediately stopped so that Sgt. Goat bumped into me from behind. I could hear him gasp as he saw what I was seeing. The room was vast, with a long vaulted ceiling so high up it was barely visible despite being well lit. The gloom we perceived outside the door was completely transformed into this bright, almost daylight bright, panorama upon our crossing the threshold. We stepped into another world. I could not see any walls, just an endless room furnished with couches and tables, fountains and hearths, potted trees and bushes, aisles that extended beyond sight, passing ponds and cottages. The monkey smiled at our dazed gaping, clearly pleased. </p>
<p> “Follow, please,” he said, leading us a short distance to a room created by two long couches forming an ell shape in front of a large hearth with a crackling fire. The fourth wall was mostly open, the rest was a long cabinet with a sink and refrigerator. </p>
<p> When we were seated, he wheeled a cart over that had tea and biscuits, a perennial favorite in Elvenstead. </p>
<p> “This is most kind of you,” I said, sipping the excellent tea. “Allow me to introduce ourselves. I’m Detective-Inspector Rosy Gee and this is Sergeant Brakly Goat.” </p>
<p> “We are humbled at your acquaintance,” the monkey said with prayer hands and a bow. “I am called Veebrishar. Please enjoy your visit.” </p>
<p> “Thank you, uh, Veebrishar. But if you don't mind my asking, how is this room so grand?” I looked upward into the soaring heights. “I mean, I'm not aware of any buildings of this size in this part of town. Nothing even close.” </p>
<p> “It is not the structure that is given to meaning, rather it is the space inside,” Veebrishar answered with a smile. I nodded like that made sense while Sgt. Goat scribbled in his notebook. </p>
<p> There were flowery scents wafting across the room and the sound of a brook in the distance. I don't know how long we sat there but I don't think I've ever felt so peaceful and relaxed. Finally I looked around, returning to my senses. I looked at Veebrishar, “Oh, gosh! I'm sorry I must have dozed off.” I glanced at Sgt. Goat who was blinking and looking around as if just waking up. “We need to get back to our investigation, Sergeant.” I turned back to Veebrishar, “Thank you for your hospitality. It has been most helpful.” </p>
<p> “We are honored to serve,” Veebrishar answered. </p>
<p> “Golly, how long have we been here? Surely the rain must have stopped, and well, we've got an investigation to pursue.” </p>
<p> “You have been here but a brief moment, no more than a couple minutes.” </p>
<p> “What? It must've been longer, much longer.” I looked at my watch. It hadn't been longer at all. I looked curiously at Veebrishar. </p>
<p> “Eternity is but a single life moment,” Veebrishar intoned. </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat scribbled in his notebook and once more I nodded as if that made sense. “Thank you again, but we really must go,” I said. </p>
<p> “Of course,” Veebrishar answered. </p>
<p> Somehow, as soon as we stood, we were instantly back in the recessed doorway, looking out at what was now a nice, albeit overcast, afternoon. I quickly ran across the street and looked back at the building we had just left. It was nondescript, maybe two floors in places, depending on the trees, but all the upper floors appeared to be vacant. Below were three storefronts that faced the street comprising the main structure which were all small shops, well lit up inside. I walked back across to where Sgt. Goat was waiting. He wore a totally bemused expression that I'm sure matched my own. </p>
<p>Gee * Part Four. It was us all along. </p>
<p> We returned to the Bop Bop duBop to fetch our waggal in silence then returned to the station. We decided to quit for the day and regroup tomorrow. The next morning I was feeling a little more grounded and met up with Sgt. Goat at the station. </p>
<p> “Good morning, Ma'am. Where're we headed today?” </p>
<p> “Morning Sergeant. I'm not sure. Let's get some coffee, eh?” With coffee in hand we returned to our office cubby. “I keep thinking about that vast room we were in yesterday,” I began. </p>
<p> “No way to explain it, Ma'am,” Sgt. Goat said, “except magic. I've heard that in parts of Elvenstead there is magic being performed every day.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, I've heard that too. Especially in the farms down south and out east.” </p>
<p> “Uh-huh. And how about the super tall mountains in Wayfar? Or the eastern deserts with millions of kilometers of drifting sand, where strange creatures lurk and . . .” </p>
<p> “Yes, I get your drift Sergeant. There's magic. Got it. But that room . . . well, I guess it could be explained by magic, although that seems almost like a cop-out, you know? Like, well, what if it wasn't magic?” </p>
<p> “Huh? What else could it be?” </p>
<p> “I don't know. Perhaps the monkey showed us another reality.” I paused, thinking. “It wasn't the building that was important, it was the space inside.” </p>
<p> “Yes, I remember, Ma'am. That's just what he said.” </p>
<p> “And it was vast Sergeant, much larger than anything in Elvenstead, and way bigger than the building it was in.” I paused. “I think we've solved our case,” I said, suddenly seeing the answer to the big Why. </p>
<p> “Yes, Ma'am,” he replied, giving me a questioning look. </p>
<p> “You see Sergeant, it's not about what we build, that's not the reason why, it's about the space inside, that's the answer to the big Why. The space inside.” </p>
<p> “I'm not sure I follow Ma'am,” he said. </p>
<p> “The space inside is where we live, Sergeant, whether it be inside our homes or inside our heads it's all about that existence. About being and becoming something greater, even about increasing our frequency like the Lennerd said. That is the reason why for everything.” </p>
<p> “Just being?” </p>
<p> “I wouldn't say just, sergeant. If eternity is in fact contained in a single life moment, as that monkey, Veebrishar, and his vast room suggested, then life is the ultimate treasure. Being and growing are the reasons why because consciousness is the creator as well as the answer to the big Why.” </p>
<p> “Yes, Ma'am, that makes sense.” </p>
<p> “I hope so Sergeant. Well then, let's write our report and turn it in. Another case solved.”</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69922742022-06-12T10:02:35-07:002022-06-12T10:02:35-07:00A Wrong Turn - By Rosy<p> The mountains were huge. Capt. Riviter knew this as soon as he saw them. They were, in fact, much bigger than any mountains ever recorded on earth before, causing him to wonder. What if this is not earth? They'd just returned from a long trip on a colonizing mission to a planet way far off. They'd finally gotten the natives subdued, with many of them even helping a little, and now Captain and crew were returning as conquering heroes. Only this meadow and the impossibly huge mountains didn't seem right. Captain was sort of hoping for cheering and the awarding of medals. He looked around. No, this wasn't right. </p>
<p> “Jant dear, would you mind terribly rechecking our landing coordinates?” </p>
<p> “Sure Captain. Got 'em right here.” She whipped out a scroll and unrolled it. “See there?” She pointed to a penciled in figure. “That there's the coordinates for earth.” She beamed with satisfaction. </p>
<p> “Yes, but do they match our current location?” </p>
<p> “Well, let's just take a look, shall we?” she announced pulling her phone out. “Hello? Spaceship?” </p>
<p> “This is spaceship, we receive you just fine, roger wilco, over and out,” Tinny Voice responded. </p>
<p> “All you need to say is over, Tinny. All the rest, like that roger wilco stuff? It's just meaningless redundancy.” </p>
<p> “But it sounds cool, Ma'am,” Tinny Voice replied. </p>
<p> “Uh-huh. Well in any case I need you to check our location. Do our current coordinates match the coordinates for earth?” </p>
<p> “One moment please,” There was some shuffling, rustling and the clacking of computer keys, then, “Uh, no Ma'am, they do not.” </p>
<p> “Hmmm. I see,” she said, not really seeing at all. “And where do our current coordinates put us at?” </p>
<p> “Well, Ma'am, that's just it. We're someplace no one knows about.” </p>
<p> “Well, now that's just pissy, ain't it?” she snarled, raising her voice. </p>
<p> “What's that Lieutenant?” the Captain called from across the clearing where he and the crew stood waiting in the shadow of the huge mountains. </p>
<p> She walked over to him. “We appear to be on an undiscovered planet, Sir,” she whispered. The other crew members shuffled nervously. </p>
<p> “Really?” the Captain snarled. “And just how did that happen, navigator?” </p>
<p> “It's these huge mountains, Captain. Somehow, they must'a threw me off.” Fortunately for Jant, Captain was distracted by strange creatures that were crawling and slithering through the underbrush, heading right at them. </p>
<p> “Oh-oh,” Captain said. He quickly called the spaceship. “I guess you better beam us up Tinny Voice. Strange creatures are headed our way.” </p>
<p> “You bet, Captain! Just give me a minute to run down to the beam up room. Batty's out to lunch.” </p>
<p> “Haste would be useful,” the Captain murmured into the phone. They began pacing, all of them, waiting for the beam up which was beginning to look more like a rescue beam than a regular return beam, as more creatures joined those already heading their way. </p>
<p> Suddenly all the creatures arrived and the Captain and crew were surrounded, captured, and carried away. When the creatures had them safely tied up and stashed, they returned to the scene of their crime, so to speak. It was at that point that Tinny Voice found the beam up room. He wasn't real sure how to run the beamer but he saw a big button that was labeled, 'Bring 'em back' so he promptly punched it. Soon the beam up room was crowded with creatures. Monsters was how Tinny Voice thought of them as he ran screaming back to the bridge. He could not believe that the Captain and crew had been mysteriously turned into monsters by some nefarious forces on this undiscovered planet. </p>
<p> Batty joined Tinny Voice on the bridge and they locked all the doors. Then Tinny Voice called earth, only the earth wasn't there anymore. Earth just wasn't the kind of planet to hang around and wait and had, in fact, long since gone, speeding through the Milky Way at astonishing speeds, while this undiscovered planet with its huge mountains followed a star going in the opposite direction, also at astonishing speeds. Already it took an hour for a one-way call. So Batty and Tinny bailed out, using an emergency escape pod. When they landed, they quickly joined the Captain and crew in captivity. </p>
<p> Meanwhile the creatures in the spaceship went on to discover earth, which they claimed for their King. They reported that the natives, armed primarily with ancient lead projectile weapons, build massive monoliths to live in and that they are easily swayed. This conquest will be a breeze, they reported. Since our spaceships are way faster than theirs the already vast and increasing distance between us is, for us, negligible, for them, insurmountable. All we have to do is replace their oligarchs with our operatives and we will own the entire planet. </p>
<p> Years later the Captain and crew were able to return to earth on one of the colonizing expeditions as translators and guides. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69677082022-05-10T07:25:24-07:002022-05-10T07:25:24-07:00The Game's Afoot - By Rosy<p> Detective Inspector Gee and the Queen of Police, Captain Sassy Fat, were having a secret meeting. Brad Puffup had been spotted in lower Elvenstead; a dismal place called juteland because there used to be a lot of burlap made there. Still is, a little, but mostly it's just suspicious warehouses and dark alleys that are all, pretty much, famous for skulduggery. All of the pirates, land-grubbers, nefarious politicians and sundry other evil doers throughout the land came to juteland to visit the famous speak-easy, Grandma's Puddin' & Pies, featuring amazing brownies and Elvenstead's finest biscuits. At least that was the claim for this was also home to Elvenstead's scoundrel community. All the worst criminal schemes were hatched at Grandma's. </p>
<p> Meanwhile, in the secret meeting, there was a large map of the Juteland District on the wall and DI Gee and Captain Fat were both examining it closely. They'd drawn circles and lines on it, along with a few exes. There was a tapping on the door in their agreed upon secret code, so DI Gee went over and opened it. There stood a decrepit looking bum holding a brown paper bag. </p>
<p> “Ah, there you are Sergeant,” she smiled warmly, for it was Sgt. Goat in disguise. “Did you get it?” she asked. </p>
<p> “Yes, Ma'am.” He handed her the bag. </p>
<p> “Thank you, Sergeant. I'd like for you and Sgt. Rover to stand by, for the game is afoot.” She smiled mysteriously. </p>
<p> “Yes, Ma'am,” he said, before turning and leaving. </p>
<p> She carried the bag over to the map table and dumped its contents onto a clear spot. It sounded like a rock hitting the table although it could've been mistaken for a lovely biscuit, brown on top, crispy layered sides, and a nicely fried base, just like Elvenstead's finest, in the land that loves biscuits. Yet this one seemed hard as glass. </p>
<p> “That's a fresh biscuit from Grandma's,” DI Gee said, gravely. </p>
<p> Capt. Fat poked at it and it fell over and began to roll, arcing around and falling off the table quick as a flash. With a sound like shattering glass the biscuit broke into a thousand little pieces when it hit the floor. DI Gee and Capt. Fat looked at each other. </p>
<p> “That's not fresh,” Capt. Fat remarked. </p>
<p> “No ma'am, it's not. Makes you wonder what they do at Grandma's if it isn't cooking,” DI Gee said, kicking at some of the biscuit pieces. </p>
<p> “And why would Brad Puffup, arch-criminal, be interested in Grandma's?” Capt. Fat asked. She looked at DI Gee, “Inspector, take your team and get me some answers.” </p>
<p> “Yes, Ma'am.” </p>
<p> Soon DI Gee and Sergeants Goat and Rover were sitting in their unmarked police waggal, watching Grandma's Puddin' & Pies from an inconspicuous spot across the street. The place was an old one story house, broad, with an overhanging roof and a big covered front porch. There was an OPEN sign hanging crookedly on the door but none of the lights were on so that, despite it being mid-morning, it was dark and gloomy inside. On the porch a hillbilly dark-elf was stretched out, asleep in a rocking chair, his hillbilly hat covering his face. Just then, Brad Puffup stepped out onto the porch, smiled, and waved at them. Then the dark-elf lifted his hat and stood up, revealing Murgin Growl, arch-accomplice, who also smiled and waved. </p>
<p> Sgt. Rover began barking in the back seat as Sgt. Goat jumped up, bumping his head against the waggal top, before scrambling out and running across the street yelling “Stop miscreants! Stop instantly! Stop . . .” He trailed off as he realized the figures, while still smiling and waving, were fading, that he could see through them, that they were becoming invisible before his very eyes, slowly fading, smiling, waving, fading until they were gone. Sgt. Rover came bounding across the street, barking loudly. He leapt onto the porch and scrambled all around where the villains had stood, but there was nothing there. They were gone, if they had ever there at all, DI Gee thought. She stepped onto the porch and began searching for hidden cameras which might have projected a hologram of the arch-criminals. She just hated the thought that they could levitate or disappear. </p>
<p> She noticed a shadow form moving inside and looked at Sgt. Goat. “Take Rover and go inside and check the place out, Sergeant, see who all's in there,” she told him as she continued her search for hidden cameras. Sgt. Rover had been sniffing around the porch and followed Sgt. Goat inside. </p>
<p> The room was very dark with all the drapes down and the lights off. As their eyes adjusted shadowy figures began to emerge, lurking in the corners. </p>
<p> “Hello villains. We're looking for the arch-criminal Brad Puffup and the arch-accomplice Murgin Growl,” Sgt. Goat announced in a loud voice. “Anybody know where they're at?” The room was silent. Sgt. Rover began opening the drapes and several of the shadowy figures fluttered away like bats. “Darn it, Rover! This here's a vampire den! Run!” They both scampered quickly out the door where DI Gee stood watching them with a scowl. </p>
<p> “Vampires, huh?” she asked. They both nodded yes with wide eyes. “Good thing it's daylight,” she said, watching someone inside pulling the drapes shut. “I found the hologram projectors, by the way, well-hidden I must say.” With a relieved smile she pointed at a couple dark corners. </p>
<p> Just then Brad Puffup drove up in a late model waggal, little sports job, classy, fast with lots of power. He smiled and waved at the Inspector and her intrepid Sergeants standing, gaping, on the porch of Grandma's Puddin' & Pies. Beside Brad sat Murgin Growl who was also smiling and holding a large bag full of gold labeled “Royal Treasury.” They pulled leisurely away, allowing the crowd of palace guards running behind them, clacking their swords against their shields, and yelling things like, “Stop thief!” to catch up before Brad floored it. His waggal zipped away like a speeding bullet. The palace guards were calling insults and shaking their fists at the sky, which is where the nefarious Puffup Gang was last seen, when DI Gee, Sgt. Goat and Sgt. Rover came zipping by in hot pursuit. </p>
<p> Brad's taillights were in the far, far distance. “Faster, Sergeant, faster!” DI Gee yelled, as Sgt. Goat pushed his foot harder against the floor. Then he pulled the overdrive lever and with a shudder their specially equipped police waggal shot into space, following Brad Puffup at warp speed. Still, this was not enough. Brad's taillights remained far, far ahead. Curiously it was really loud and windy inside the waggal and DI Gee looked around to see Sgt. Rover had his window down and his head sticking out with his tongue flapping behind, so that his ears snapped and his lips made a blubbery clapping noise. </p>
<p> “Close your window, Sergeant!” she yelled. </p>
<p> Sgt. Rover pulled his head in and sat up, “Yes, Ma'am!” he barked contritely, rolling the window up. </p>
<p> Now they easily caught up with Brad Puffup who did not know about the secret new police much-faster-than-anybody else hypergosh engine. As they zipped by the distraught Brad, Sgt. Rover deployed another new secret device, the hook-end lariat. He was barking and jumping with excitement as he used his hook to snag a hold of Brad's waggal, containing the arch-criminal Brad Puffup, and the arch-accomplice Murgin Growl, who they commenced dragging back to face justice. We hope. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69677072022-05-10T07:24:46-07:002022-05-10T07:24:46-07:00An Inspector Gee Melodramatic Mystery of Sorts - By Rosy<p>Part One: Up There! Can't You See It? </p>
<p> Detective-Inspector Gee, Sgt. Goat and Sgt. Rover were strolling along Verdandi Boulevard, heading back to headquarters. Their spirits were high as they have just solved another mysterious case. Suddenly Rover stopped and looked upward. </p>
<p> “Whoa! What's that up there?” he asked, looking anxiously at the sky. </p>
<p> “What . . .?” Sgt. Goat sputtered. </p>
<p> “Up there! Can't you see it?” </p>
<p> “Oh yeah. It's a bird,” Sgt. Goat said, squinting upward. </p>
<p> “No, it's a plane!” Sgt. Rover exclaimed, staring at the object. “No, wait, it is a bird,” he amended after a pause. Then his eyes went round, “Lookit that! It's Super Bird!” Sgt. Rover was nearly barking with excitement. </p>
<p> There was courageous music as Super Bird! a heretofore legendary creature, came fluttering down to a graceful landing, expertly perching on top of the fence. </p>
<p> “Good day, Officers,” he said, staring down his formidable beak at them standing on the street below. </p>
<p> “Hi, Super Bird!” Sgt. Rover answered, trying to hide his wagging tail. </p>
<p> “Good day, Super Bird,” Inspector Gee replied, impassively. “What brings you out our way?” Inspector Gee was proud of her record, keeping criminals at bay most of the time. She didn't see any reason for Super Bird to be here, especially since she hadn't believed in him before, unless he's got relatives or something here. </p>
<p> “Officers!” Super Bird said sharply, “I have come to free you of your hideous bondage!” </p>
<p> “What bondage is that?” Inspector Gee asked. </p>
<p> “Golly thanks!” Sgt. Rover said with a big grin at the same time, then, glancing at Inspector Gee, “Uh, yeah. What bondage you talking about?” </p>
<p> “Orders! Reports! Danger followed by endless drudgery!” Super Bird screeched. He seemed indignant. “Fine legal minds like yours sent mucking about for clues, then evidence, then who knows what all else while those wily lawyers twist things around until the vilest of miscreants walks free to commit even graver crimes, always pushing, always coming back!” </p>
<p> “Golly,” Sgt. Rover said, his eyes wide. Sgt. Goat looked suspicious. </p>
<p> “I would think that detecting and report filing are the natural work of detectives,” Inspector Gee said, her eyes narrowing. </p>
<p> “No more!” Super Bird squawked. “I have come to set you free! Now go! Be free! Find a job and pull on your bootstraps! You will find happiness!” </p>
<p> Instantly DI Gee knew it was undoubtedly a ruse to distract them, likely to get them out of the way so that real criminal acts could be done. She leaped up, aghast. “You cannot be Super Bird! For you are a knave!” she yelled, running toward Super Bird, brandishing her fists, as Sgt. Rover began barking. </p>
<p> “Yikes!” Super Bird yelped as he fluttered clumsily away from DI Gee's fists, tripping over the fence pole. That's when his clever disguise fell off revealing the arch criminal, Brad Puffup! Everyone watching gasped with surprise except DI Gee, who knew all along. </p>
<p> “Zounds!” Brad yelled, “Foiled again!” </p>
<p> “Stop instantly, miscreant!” Sgt. Rover barked, lunging toward Puffup. </p>
<p> “Halt! In the name of the law!” Sgt. Goat yelled, also brandishing his fists. </p>
<p> “Ha! You'll never catch me!” Puffup yelled before breaking into his famous deranged villain laugh, “Bwa ha! Ha! Haaaah! I will be back!” he finished, posing heroically before running off, with Sgt. Rover barking at his heels and Sgt. Goat close behind. </p>
<p> Inspector Gee waited patiently until they returned. She knew what they were going to say. “Somehow he slipped away,” they reported gloomily. She just nodded. </p>
<p> “Now,” Inspector Gee said, in her firmest, most in-charge voice, “we go to the top of Brad Tower.” </p>
<p> Ominous music can be heard. Brad Tower is reported, by Brad himself, to be the tallest building in the universe, although this claim is currently being contested by the Vulgarians from across the galaxy, who say they have a building that is taller, so tall in fact, that it connects to their moon. Engineers are working to establish the particulars of this building, like just how tall is it? While other engineers are approaching Brad tower with this same question. Tall building enthusiasts are eagerly awaiting the results. </p>
<p>Part Two: They Survived By . . . </p>
<p> Meanwhile, we find the Inspector and her two Sergeants making their way up Brad Tower. They are perhaps halfway, maybe more, but for sure way high up. Each time they come to a new, higher up lobby they wander around, sometimes getting sandwiches and coffee from the lunch counter, or sitting for a bit by a fountain, before finding another elevator going up, which they will take, courageously undaunted by the extreme height they are attaining. </p>
<p> Too, they are each wearing space suits that have a built in parachute as well as rocket propulsion for deep space. Sometimes they encounter engineers trying to determine the tower's actual height who also wear space suits. </p>
<p> In the second day of their upward ascent it was clear by looking out the windows that they were in space. The air inside was okay and the temperature was comfortable with the patented Brad Corp Gravitons keeping them on the floor. They continued upward. After three days they came to welcome sight. A hotel! It was a Brad Corp hotel , of course, but the rooms were nice. Inspector Gee had a fine view of distant earth from her room while her Sergeants shared a room overlooking the atrium pool. They stayed for a few days, resting up. </p>
<p> When they finally reached the penthouse suite, believed by many to be the actual top of Brad Tower, they'd lost track of how long it'd taken. Inspector Gee felt triumphant as she pushed the buzzer to Number One, Brad Tower, albeit light-headed. Same with the Sergeants Rover and Goat, light-headed, dizzy at times. The door was solid gold which is what the legendary criminal's lair is said to be made of. Inspector Gee was confident this was the right place. </p>
<p> After an interminable wait the door slowly opened and there stood the butler Murgin Growl. Murgin was from a family of cro-magnon magicians who had trouble fitting in. They survived by working as butlers for arch criminals. People who didn't ask too many questions. People like Brad Puffup, arch criminal, CEO and mad scientist. </p>
<p> “Yeah? Whadya want?” Murgin growled. “You got an appointment?” </p>
<p> They all showed their badges, “Where's Puffup?” Inspector Gee demanded. </p>
<p> “He ent home!” Murgin growled. </p>
<p> “When's he due back?” Sgt. Rover asked. </p>
<p> “Dunno,” Murgin growled. </p>
<p> “Well, I guess we'll just wait,” Inspector Gee announced, barging into the spacious solid gold living room and plopping down on the couch. There were large picture windows overlooking a fine view of the moon which seemed, somehow, to be closer to the earth than they were. </p>
<p> “Whatever,” Murgin growled as he left the room. Sgt Rover sprawled in front of a warm golden hearth that had a screen showing burning logs inside, while Sgt. Goat turned on the golden TV. There was a news report about their chase after Brad Puffup, with hourly updates. The last update showed Puffup leaving his Penthouse in a golden flying saucer less than an hour before Inspector Gee and her Sergeants had arrived. </p>
<p> “Darn it!” Inspector Gee exclaimed when she saw that. “He's slipped past us again!” Since sound doesn't carry in space Brad had left them a recording of his nefarious villain laugh, which they played several times, looking for clues. Finally, Inspector Gee decided that further waiting was fruitless, that they had to give chase. </p>
<p> “We're commandeering your spaceship, Growl!” Inspector Gee announced the next time they saw him. </p>
<p> He rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he growled, tossing the keys to Sgt. Goat. They quickly located Murgin's late model UFO in the garage and were soon in hot pursuit. But no matter how fast they went they could only see Puffup's taillights, never able to get closer. Faster and faster they went, warp eight, warp nine, faster and faster, warp ten, warp suddenly! Puffup's brake lights came on and in a split second they passed him and were a few million kilometers beyond before they could get stopped. By then, of course, Puffup was long gone. </p>
<p>Part Three: The Crowd's Mood Was Changing </p>
<p> Brad Corp, the largest corporation in the universe, began running advertisements for their newest products, all blatantly illegal, assorted police evading devices and various other criminal style products. After they made tons of money on that and got away with it, Brad came on TV and declared Brad Corp was now a sovereign nation called Bradco, and that they were annexing Elvenstead to be their homeland, hereafter to be known as Bradco. This caused quite a stir in the palace of King Overwood who, until now apparently, had been the King of Elvenstead. The fact that these villains could do all this awful stuff and not get apprehended was disconcerting. </p>
<p> The Queen of Police, Captain Sassy Fat, realizing the police were looking totally bad, called an emergency meeting in the police auditorium with the entire force attending. </p>
<p> “All right people, what're we going to do?” she asked. Just then King Overwood himself appeared, followed by his courtly entourage. Captain Fat, like DI Gee earlier when she saw Super Bird, did not like this one bit, figuring that she had everything already under control and watched quietly, with a stern expression as the King approached the podium. The crowd's mood was changing as they watched their top officer get so easily displaced by the King, a politician who did not know this case, or any case, like they did. </p>
<p> King Overwood looked out over the scowling police with a somber expression. “All right people, what're we going to do?” he asked. There was a rustling and stirring. A few of them had actually hoped for a kingly plan or at least words of encouragement but most were not surprised. They were surprised however, with what the King said next. </p>
<p> “Brad Corp makes more money than any country, way more than Elvenstead runs on, more than any country, plus Brad has an army.” This was worse than anyone thought. Elvenstead was surely facing her darkest time, a time fraught with peril and seemingly insurmountable challenges. </p>
<p> The King looked at the police force with a sinking feeling. This was, for all practical purposes, Elvenstead's army. Inspector Gee and Sergeants Goat and Rover were in the front row, and the King thought none of them, well, maybe Goat, but really none of them were suitable for battle. </p>
<p> There was heroic music as the professional heroes Brak and Jant arrived. Captain Fat took over the podium, gently pushing the King aside. </p>
<p> “All right people,” she began, “we're going to do something. I have decided,” the King cleared his throat, “I meant the King and I of course, well, we've decided to appoint a committee to take care of this.” She paused, looking pleased as punch. “Detective-Inspector Gee will head the committee and her team will consist of Sgt. Goat, Sgt. Rover and the heroes Brak and Jant.” There was cheering and wild applause. Everyone, especially the King, was relieved to pass the responsibility of defeating Brad to someone else and this committee would do nicely. </p>
<p> “This plan is swell!” the King announced then everyone quickly went home. Except for DI Gee, Sgt. Goat, Sgt. Rover, Brak and Jant, who remained in the vast police auditorium, standing alone with dazed expressions. </p>
<p> Inspector Gee looked at them, “Okay guys, looks like it's just us. Let's head over to Brad Tower. Sgt. Goat, get an extra-long car out of the garage.” Soon they were standing across the street from Brad Tower. </p>
<p> Looking at the first few floors the tower was not terribly impressive, DI Gee thought. It's just that it's so dang tall. That's why it's so impressive, she mused. Even intimidating. They all gazed upward even though they knew it was impossible to see the top from the ground. There was a soldier patrolling around the first floor. </p>
<p> “Not much security here, considering they're essentially invading Elvenstead,” Inspector Gee said. </p>
<p> “Well, they appear to believe that Brad is basically unreachable up there in his solid gold penthouse, so I think they're just concentrating on taking over, Ma'am,” Sgt. Goat observed. </p>
<p> “So it would seem, Sergeant,” she replied. She gazed at the tower for a few moments. Addressing the group she asked, “What do you think would happen if we broke the tower, up a ways, maybe around the sixth floor or so?” </p>
<p> “Broke it?” Brak asked. He seemed pleased. </p>
<p> “Yeah, you know, make it so it couldn't support the upper floors anymore. Break it.” </p>
<p> “Oh yeah,” Brak said. “Now that sounds just fine.” </p>
<p> “Real hero work, baby,” Jant said from behind him. The Sergeants were both gazing up at the sixth floor as if seeing it for the first time. </p>
<p> “So, what you got in mind?” DI Gee asked the heroes. </p>
<p>Part Four: Platypus Babies Are Called Puggles </p>
<p> Brad sat atop his super tall building, out of reach of reprisal while his trolls were far below marching toward Elvenstead. As his troll armies prepared to cross the border into Elvenstead there was a loud humming noise. The armies stopped, because the humming was really quite loud, overpowering and had an ominous, threatening aspect to it. </p>
<p> “Why have you stopped?” Brad screamed into his microphone. </p>
<p> “Sir, there's a loud humming noise,” the General leading the trolls reported. </p>
<p> “You stopped because of a humming noise?” </p>
<p> “Oh my gosh! Run!” the General reported. </p>
<p> “What's going on General?” </p>
<p> “There's millions of elves, faeries, pixies, puggles and who knows what else coming at us with swords and cannons! Run!” </p>
<p> “Turn around and fight! That's an order!” Brad yelled into the microphone. </p>
<p> There was some odd crunching and popping noises, then, “Oh! Hello? Is this Brad? Hi, I'm leading an Elvenstead Volunteer Brigade and I'm afraid we've just routed your troll army. Have a nice day.” </p>
<p> Suddenly Brad's aerial penthouse started to sway, then it swung way back and with a snap it shot into space. Brad Tower had snapped like a whip because Brak and Jant had driven a rocket into it millions of floors below, somewhere around the sixth floor, skillfully avoiding all defense actions then parachuting at the last minute, causing a terrible ripple that slung the upper part into space and collapsed the bottom part. Brak and Jant were jubilant over their success. Meanwhile the people of Elvenstead had risen up on their own, more than even lived there, so many, in fact, that their approach created a fierce hum, and Bradco was defeated. </p>
<p> With the collapse of Brad Tower, creating a pile of debris now known as Brad Mountain, and the disappearance of the nefarious Brad Puffup, the source of all evil, who is now believed to be hurtling through space, Elvenstead had cause to rejoice. The King gave medals to the entire committee and Captain Fat talked about the important police contribution, while the people, all the diverse people of free Elvenstead, danced in the streets. </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69461632022-04-11T17:48:12-07:002022-04-11T17:48:12-07:00A Twisty Tale - By Rosy<p> The fact that our spaceship can go under water is something we forget when we're in space, but when we're under water we forget that our submarine can fly. These things are apparently not important enough to lodge firmly into the crew's mind. Perhaps in the Captain's, but not in the crew's. Regardless of whether or not we know how, our craft, the Nauticotta, takes us wherever we need to go in our constant quest to find the fabled Treasure Nest Egg of the ancient Tandy-Dandy Dancers of Mish. </p>
<p> Captain dreams of this a lot and says that the Tandy-Dandy Dancers were famous throughout everywhere and that they built a huge gaping fortune, and that they stuck it in a secret Treasure Nest Egg which is where it is hidden to this very day. An odd dream in my estimation but it has caught our attention. We have been diligently seeking hidden treasure ever since, especially with something like the fabled Treasure Nest Egg of Mish before us. We are, after all, a fine and loyal crew. </p>
<p> We have been everywhere, already we are twenty years into the search, maybe more, and have yet to approach Mish, the alleged home of the ancient Tandy-Dandy Dancers. But now, suddenly, Captain tells us we must go to Mish, and of course we all jumped to obey, pushing the buttons and pulling the levers to make this happen. This was a superlative decision admired by the entire crew since the treasure did, in fact, mention Mish, the place where the ancient Tandy-Dandy Dancers danced and where their treasure is likely hidden. </p>
<p> “Why didn't you go to Mish first?” is what people typically ask. “You know, it is the fabled Treasure Nest Egg of the ancient Tandy-Dandy Dancers of MISH that you are seeking, after all.” </p>
<p> Captain replies something like this, “It ain't how the dreams go,” then refuses to talk anymore about it. We, the loyal crew, also refuse to talk about it and have not questioned him on this, due to loyalty. And also because the pay is good, we have comfortable quarters, great food, an easy workload, and paid vacations. Besides, when all is said and done, the Nauticotta is the Captain's ship. He can take it anywhere he wants, as long as we keep finding lost treasures everywhere or get good paying part time jobs. Now Captain is dreaming us to Mish. We land near the western coast, not far from the famous Rainbow Dragon Hold, Regenbeald. </p>
<p> “We walk from here,” Captain announced and promptly began walking. We, the loyal crew, followed. “We must find the Twisty Lane,” Captain told us, stopping to gaze into the distance. He looked in several directions then, with a determined expression, he pointed, “There.” We were headed into the wilderness. </p>
<p> Captain had a map that he pulled out to show us our route. We could see a big black ex marking the secret hidden treasure and that it was in fact at the end of a twisty lane. There was a red arrow pointing to a small red circle near the map's edge, by the sea, with a legend saying, 'you are here'. This looked good. </p>
<p> We set off in high spirits. Surely it will be great to finally encounter the sacred and holy Treasure Nest Egg of the ancient Tandy-Dandy Dancers, hidden by the dancers themselves before they went extinct millions of years ago and undiscovered, until now. </p>
<p> Slowly we penetrated the impenetrable jungle, inch by inch, taking turns cutting a path with a big, bold machete that Captain happened to have. The deeper we went, the darker it got until we were in pitch black. We all snapped on our Nauticotta issue flashlights and proceeded with confidence, finally coming to an ancient, probably older, lane, put in by those prehistoric people who enjoyed watching the Tandy-Dandy Dancers dance. We gazed in awe and more than a little anticipation at the entrance. We knew the twisty lane led to incomparable treasure, more than anyone could imagine. It was the twisty lane of dreams, of our dreams, of the Captain's dreams and we moved forward as if in a dream. </p>
<p> The twisty lane was clear of underbrush and vines and we were glad when Captain put his big, bold machete away, into an elaborate sheath hanging from his belt. With all our lights on him he looked like a Pirate Captain putting his sword away but we knew he wasn't. Pretty sure. Then he told us to team up and shut off the extra lights, saving their power. </p>
<p> We went further and further down that twisty lane but oddly we felt lighter and lighter. Then slowly unseen lights came on, real dim, at about the same time where we were having trouble staying on the floor. Soon, we were somehow walking on the ceiling which was now brightly lit with a nicely tiled floor. We came to an ornate double doorway with what looked like a cartoon image of a Darnalong hanging above it. </p>
<p> Darnalongs are rare and offensive birds, quite large with stick pole legs and body feathers of wild and crazy colors. Except all the Darnalongs that we knew about delivered bad news in Elvenstead. Why would they have a cartoon drawing of a Darnalong here in the ancient ruins, buried deep in the wilderness jungle, of Mish? </p>
<p> Captain seemed to be gaping and we nudged him along. Beyond the double doors was a ticket taker. We had to go back and find the hidden ticket booth to buy tickets before we could go in. Captain grumbled about how expensive the tickets were so we figured it must be a classy show. First Mate told us once that classy shows were high priced and we entered with eager anticipation. </p>
<p> When the lights went down an amplified voice announced, “Welcome! Jungle creatures of all persuasions! Welcome to the Treasure Nest Egg Theater! Home to the amazing Tandy-Dandy Dancers! And he-ere they are!” </p>
<p> Amid a wild and raucous applause, the stage was quickly filled with poorly drawn Darnalongs, all dancing. I could hear Captain groaning but we stayed for the whole show. All things considered it was pretty good. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> The Necessary Stream </p>
<p>Sometimes, at times, I wonder at this constant stream of words, </p>
<p>and at those times when no one's at the wheel, despite </p>
<p>another shade of meaning from each new word the stream affords. </p>
<p>Or perhaps you could say deeper, inward if you like, </p>
<p>this stream of words goes on, no doubt, well into the night.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69461622022-04-11T17:47:48-07:002022-04-11T17:47:48-07:00Hello, We're Not Home - By Rosy<p> There is a land called Faraway where no one is ever home. Ever. The people of Faraway are as far from any sort of reality as they are from us which maybe isn't far enough. In any case, never being home became their national motto rendered as; “Hello, we're not home.” </p>
<p> A native Farannadan, which is how the people of Faraway are called, typically has only seen their home once, years ago when they first bought or rented it. They keep paying mortgage or rent but move on, having their mail and calls forwarded to wherever they're staying now, while someone else occupies their old home. </p>
<p> The Farannadans need to move every so often, much more often than anyone would think or want. They just need it. In fact, they move to a new residence once every three days, on average, bringing their family, if they're still together, with them. They just need to move, and since it's such a basic and primal urge the Farannadans have streamlined their system so that the entire forwarding process is accomplished by simply writing their name on a card, provided at every residence, and popping it in the mail, no postage necessary. The only requirement for occupying a new home is that no one be home. There is no homelessness in Faraway nor are there palaces. </p>
<p> People who, for whatever reason, immigrate to Faraway, a move all the brochures urge you not to make, think that they can remain rooted. They, being foreigners, need not comply with the custom that they move, then move again and again, no, rather they can remain in one spot. They plan to shrug and say, “Oooh, we did not know,” or some such rubbish and stay right where they're at. No moving for them. </p>
<p> Newcomers usually remain resolute until one fine day when somehow this urge sort of hits them, whole families even at first, just hits them slow and easy, got them noticing empty houses that look nice, then nicer. Curious, they think, then go home, except home is oddly uninviting. Your family seems somehow surprised to see you, very subtle, and you realize this group doesn't fit here anymore. Not your style at all so you just pick up and leave. Go to that place you liked across town, walk in and stay. Most your family will probably follow for a while. Families stay together longest, sometimes up to a year, long enough to procreate anyway, before wandering off in different directions. People would find out the names of previous tenants when other people would drop by to visit them, not realizing they were already not home. </p>
<p> Everyone continues doing their jobs or going to school or whatever they do but just constantly coming from different directions. They use a backpack common to all, called the Farannabag which is a small and unassuming backpack easily able to hold all that is deemed necessary, and can be carried constantly. It is actually strange to see someone without their Farannabag, they are so stylish and sensible. </p>
<p> An odd thing in Faraway, about the rare cousin of the blue-footed dooble dogs from Wayfar Intherwud, Faraway's next door country, is that the dooble dog cousin is curiously not a dog at all, rather she is a small blue-footed monkey. She is the only one in the world that we know of, and she lives in Faraway. Her name is Eunice Bullfarb and she runs a coffee shop called Ed's Tires & Brews. </p>
<p> Now here's the odd part; Eunice has super powers! She can fly! She's stronger than an ox and has real X-Ray vision, plus more. We think she has some goddess blood or something. She doesn't brag though and gets along with the neighbors pretty well. Eunice loves her dooble dog cousins and would have them over to visit more often, except she's never home. </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69461612022-04-11T17:47:00-07:002022-04-11T17:47:00-07:00Rumors of War - By Silver<p> We are all so gay and carefree. Sophisticated, healthy and kind. We love each other and our blessed estate high atop this mountain. Below us, in the valleys, rolling hills and fruitful plains live many creatures whose lives can be affected by us, by our decisions, by our very way of being and we try to be mindful of them. </p>
<p> Father Sky commands peace, while secretly Beauty enjoys creating rivalries, Thunder cannot help but roar and flash while War paces irritably beyond Father Sky's sight, preparing both sides against the other, out of sight, he believes. Huntress watches, amused as the predators become prey in War's machinations. Ocean knows of these things, having seen their mad battles both afloat and along his shores but remains silent as does Dark, staying below, staying silent, seemingly neutral. Mother Earth does not speak at all, except in secret tongues. </p>
<p> It is said that these creatures below us, many like ourselves in form, die. That the animation of their bodies ceases with time, disease, accident or violence, and that this animation continues on as shades that dwell in Dark's nether world. It is whispered that Dark must know all of War's treacheries, seeing the numberless shades that War has sent him, but in fact, no one can tell what Dark knows or what Dark sees. No one living and not even us from whom all things flow, not even we know of these things. War knows not, nor cares, what becomes of his fallen warriors, needing only the passion and violence, the anger and madness that is warfare, feeding, drunk on vengeance and blood-lust. None of us like being around War, but he is our brother, born of Father Sky and Mother Earth, just as we all are. </p>
<p> I stay apart when there's scheming and plotting for, I am Love and naught of War's doing is done in my name. I am uneasy when I see Beauty and War together, knowing of Beauty's desire for conflict. I find myself standing apart more often than not. Still, Fast will always find me to deliver each pronouncement, each call to attend the high throne. Now Father Sky has said he wants peace, then says no more. It is to us to deliver and War is furious, of course. We never really see Dark but his presence is unmistakable, and I know he is consoling War. Sometimes before, Thunder would join War, both enjoying their shock and awe moments, but this time, well, Father Sky has spoken and Thunder restrains himself. </p>
<p> I wonder though. Something happened at Beauty's grand soiree, something that has caused a young and foolish mortal to abscond with a king's wife, believing that I, of all people, wanted it so, promised her in fact as a reward for naming me the fairest of them all. What foolishness. I needed no contest to know that I am the fairest of them all. Everyone knows it. I took the apple and left, as was my right. I knew that shrew Whiner had sent the apple with the note, For the Fairest of Them All, because she wasn't invited to the party and she knew it'd disrupt things. So I just grabbed the apple and left. Later I asked Beauty why she hadn't invited Whiner. </p>
<p> She gave me an angry look, “I didn't invite her to my party because I could not stand the thought of hearing her whining all night. No one can, and no one blames me.” She stormed away. She was right, of course, no one can stand Whiner's whining and I for one was glad she wasn't at the party. Still, that young man making off with that king's wife, that can't be good. Got the royal treasure too is what Fast told me. Rumors abound that I helped with a magic fog. What madness! Sounds like something Thunder might do with his roiling clouds. War looks very pleased; Thunder seems poised and Huntress smiles slyly. Oh, I cannot bear these squalid deceits. I shall stand apart, for in all these squabbles there is naught of Love</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69146942022-03-05T12:11:47-07:002022-03-05T12:11:47-07:00The Red Gate - By Rosy<p> The Gate To Heck is famous throughout Elvenstead and, while quite scary, is nonetheless considered a major tourist attraction. You haven't seen Elvenstead if you haven't seen the Lethe Fields, the Blue Mountain Unanimals, and the Gate To Heck. Located in scenic Crater, which is a steep sided crater with a lake and a ranch at the bottom, the Gate to Heck has been scaring elves, faeries and humans for millions of years. The ranch, Mayday Ranch, is run by Madelyn Mayday, and the lake, called Lake Crater, reportedly has no bottom. On the north face of the crater wall, in perpetual shade or dark, is the Gate to Heck, pulsing purplish-red inside and emitting dark thoughts. The deepest part of the lake laps at its base while Mayday Ranch sits across the lake, on the shallow side. The Gate To Heck is super scary and no one gets very close, rather enjoying the frightening view from across the lake in safety, one would hope, at the ranch. </p>
<p> Mayday Ranch's primary revenue comes from these terror seeking tourists, who come in groups usually, to gaze in horror, perhaps even hike around the lake and try to get closer, thrilled at being so near to danger. </p>
<p> This darn scary Gate to Heck is known throughout Elvenstead, but what most don't know is that there's another gate over on the sunny side of Crater. You just keep to the sunny side and you'll probably see it, if you look. It's called the Red Gate and it is believed by many, especially among the locals, and by pretty much all the Lennards, who lead the Lenfast believers everywhere, that the Red Gate leads to another dimension or a parallel universe, or, well, to somewhere else, whatever you want to call it. It is purported to transport anyone who has the courage and/or stupidity to go through it to somewhere else. Someplace we didn't know about. Still don't know about as no one's come back who's gone through it. Pretty sure. Or they just don't talk about it. Could be that. Anyway, it was time for a hero. Someone with the fortitude, strength, and tenacity to go through the Red Gate and return with a full report. That at least, was clear. </p>
<p> Brak and Jant Rivitir were a husband and wife team specializing in hero work that involved great daring do and they applied for the job. </p>
<p> “We'll be glad to go through that gate and attempt to return with a full report,” Brak bravely told Madelyn Mayday and her team of witches. </p>
<p> “We do expert hero work, Ma'am” Jant supplied. </p>
<p> “Well then, get to it,” Madelyn told them and they did. They got themselves supplied with a month or so of provisions, backpacks, tents, rifles and whatever else they could carry that they felt they might need. Then, with barely a backward glance they marched stoutly through the Red Gate. </p>
<p> For the first hundred meters or so they kept talking with Madelyn, who everyone calls Maddy, using radio phones, but when the expedition passed a certain point, all communications ended. Radio silence. All Maddy and the witches could do was wait. </p>
<p> Meanwhile Brak and Jant had entered an earthly paradise. A land that most would describe as heaven. Everything you always wanted and more. They were thrilled and enjoyed a fabulous few days before remembering their promise to return with a full report. But where was the Red Gate? </p>
<p> They spent a couple weeks looking everywhere for the Red Gate, fully intending to return and report. They earnestly gave it an honest, thorough search before finally succumbing to the luxurious life, finally deciding that the Red Gate was one-way after all and that really, even if they could, why would they want to return? They sure didn't want hordes of people to follow them and make a mess of the place, plus the money they would earn if they returned would nowhere near supply the life they had now, in this other place. </p>
<p> Back at Mayday Ranch life continued on, nothing changed except, due to the Rivitir's silence, the mysterious Red Gate is becoming as frightening as the Gate To Heck, much to Maddy's delight. Business is good. Though sometimes she wonders sadly, whatever became of Brak and Jant, those brave heroes?</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69146932022-03-05T12:10:06-07:002022-03-05T12:10:06-07:00A Small Suitcase In Time - By Rosy<p> When Pernickul left the tavern, it was nearly three a.m. Many times he and the boys would greet Father Sun from the tavern's balcony above the huge wooden door, singing joyously with drunken abandon all night long, but today, well, this morning really, he felt like leaving early. He was home by a quarter after and when he entered the house, he tripped over something in the dark and awakened his wife who shrieked and fainted dead away because she thought he was dead away. You see, unbeknownst to Pernickul and his pals, this latest party has mysteriously lasted eight years, so instead of getting home early, he was getting home late. Very late. The late Pernickul, completely befuddled, stared at his wife lying on the floor, also completely befuddled and rendered senseless. </p>
<p> When her new husband Goodox came out from the bedroom he shrieked and turned white but did not faint dead away. Having moved in last year when Pernickul was declared legally dead after seven years, he was shocked through and through. Pernickul's death had cleared the way for Goodox and Jasinna Pernickul to fall in love, marry and have two kids. Linear time is not a big player in this story. Anyway, the sight of Pernickul after all this time was disconcerting, enough to cause Goodox to turn and run, leaving Pernickul and his unconscious wife alone. Well, except for the two kids, Windy and Addy, along with six dogs, fifteen cats and two love birds who weren't getting along. </p>
<p> The birds, named Eunice and Cuthbert had been arguing all night and the cats were angry. They'd had enough and eyed Pernickul through slitted eyes, their tails swishing back and forth, emitting low growls. Two of the old-timer dogs remembered Pernickul and ran up with tails wagging while the other four, who had no idea who this character was, began barking. Jassina, who had taken her new husband's name of Jones, remained unconscious. Near as anyone could tell anyway. </p>
<p> Pernickul, himself experiencing increasing levels of befuddlement, began to notice differences; different furniture, different kids, although in truth he and Jasinna never had kids, and different wall papers. He became even more befuddled. Just then Goodox returned with the police. Pointing dramatically at Pernickul he cried out, “Fie! Fie!”, while making obscure hand gestures. His claim was illegal resurrection or something like that. The police, themselves shocked to be facing the man they'd spent years searching for, who hadn't, in fact, changed one bit, were glad to arrest him. Keep him here if nothing else. </p>
<p> With Pernickul locked up and out of the way, the evil wizard Brad Puffup, the perpetrator, angry at Pernickul over an insult that a much, much younger Pernickul had made, decided to release the tavern and Pernickul's drinking buddies from his time/stretch spell. When the buddies began showing up all willy-nilly, the police, now as befuddled as Pernickul, began circling around, like sharks, eyeing everything and each other with suspicion. In fact, every other person on earth was now a suspect, and their circles widened. This was when the tavern, reported missing eight years ago, was discovered. While happy to report another case solved, a rather major success involving real estate, the police were, nonetheless, even more befuddled. </p>
<p> Meanwhile the evil Brad Puffup puffed up with pride at his 'justice' having been dealt and laughed maniacally like these guys do. He placed Pernickul's story into a small suitcase and forgot about it. Later, as he flew away, he carelessly tossed it into the sea along with his garbage and whatever else he didn't want to pack out. It wasn't until a year later, when a small suitcase floated onto the rocks, that the case was finally solved. Unfortunately no one knew where Brad Puffup was at, so that part remains unsolved. </p>
<p> Goodox took his brood off somewhere, probably far, far away as soon as they were no longer suspects, Pernickul was finally released from jail and, vowing to never insult a wizard again, he and his drinking buddies started new families, none of whom cared much for drinking parties anymore and Brad Puffup ended up falling into a well. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/69146922022-03-05T12:09:29-07:002022-03-05T12:09:29-07:00A Rambling Conjecture - By Silver<p> So I was at the word mill recently, browsing like I do, viewing the stacks of words, marvelous words as well as despicable words, all there to see, when I realized I was not following even my own constantly evolving script, rather I was going all willy-nilly, a phrase I enjoy, using it often, willy-nilly or off the rails, as has been suggested before. Where might this lead? </p>
<p> Perhaps to what has been called stream of consciousness writing? Wringing out as much usable content as you can from the piles of garbage that so easily accrue. Every hang up and folly that's going through your mind written while it's still going, still dropping, no need to clean up, not now anyway. </p>
<p> Soon I'll go walking in the city of my dreams. All of my dreams are allegedly waking dreams, dreams of a consciousness that is, on so many levels, unconscious. Unconscious enough to dream and dreaming dreams while seeing, smelling, and feeling things that seem to be co-creators of my awake dream so that nothing really is what I think it is. Certainly not what I'd been taught, although I must admit I hadn't actually been listening, but still. Things I'd heard by chance, perhaps. </p>
<p> The only actual career I've ever had was being retired and making up silly stories like this. Prior to retirement I worked at various jobs, certainly nothing like a career. Now I no longer represent value to the system, not that I ever did, not much anyway, but now it's zilch, nothing at all here, in my only career, for the rich. I feel bad for them and wonder if I should have chosen another career? I suspect this is merely a dream, another of my waking dreams that has nothing to do with whatever I was talking about. Never does. </p>
<p> Meanwhile, all along the vast walls, streets, and grottos where the unwashed cower, there's a new song a singing with everyone singing along, all along. And all our careers were just places they've put us, keeping us docile, giving us treats here and there, letting us scrap and bite each other so maybe it'll all somehow seem real, like something we'd all agreed on, like the dream was the real deal, like there could be heroes. </p>
<p> Soon I'll go walking in the city of my dreams. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68960002022-02-12T11:19:22-07:002022-02-26T01:47:53-07:00The Ticket Master - By Rosy<p> Hello. Now listen: I'm Traffic Control Agent Jant Rivitir, Parking Compliance Division. My people are called PCA's; Parking Compliance Agents and we'll ticket you faster than that, even faster if we have to because we're tough, dedicated professionals, impossible to bribe so don't even try. </p>
<p> Our job is why we're tough, because it's a tough job. Each lane and byway in Elvenstead is lined with parked waggals, brooms, rolled up carpets, bicycles, tricycles and cycles without wheels, umbrellas and whatever else people use to get around with. Just sitting there waiting for their masters to return and all this must be regulated and paid for. That's a tough job and it's my job. I make my rounds on a small service broom, a practical Damfaster with a little robot ticket-wizard floating along behind. Soon as your time is up, believe me, I'm there. Or one of the other PCA's patrolling Elvenstead's streets. Our division isn't very big so if we're not there right away, please just wait a bit, we shan't be long. </p>
<p> Today I'm patrolling South Elvenstead along Weevin Boulevard and down to Rattern Way, that whole area. Considered a poor part of town with grog and mead dens, rundown rentals and a lot of poor people, dwarves mainly but elves, faeries, humans, trolls, all are here, even an orc or two no doubt, and all park their </p>
<p>mobiles along the boulevard. Whenever someone has overstayed their time, their space begins to glow red. That's when I show up, issue a ticket and justice is served. It's an implacable process. </p>
<p> I see a space glowing red a ways up the boulevard and accelerate my Damfaster swooping down on the malefactor's space. It contained an ancient Besom 100, a broom I haven't seen since I was a kid, and they were ancient then. I stared in fascination as my ticket-wizard printed the citation, which I reverently stuck to the broom. Just then the next space started glowing red. </p>
<p> “What's going on here?” a loud voice spoke behind me. </p>
<p> I turned to see two elderly types, stylish elves who evoked a lost era of grace and dignity. </p>
<p> “Good morning, sir. I'm ticketing these two spaces for being past due.” </p>
<p> “That's preposterous!” the old gentle-elf exclaimed. “It could not have been more than a few seconds past, a minute at most.” </p>
<p> “Past due is past due,” I stated, trying to be nice. “Ticket-Master,” I said to the ticket-wizard, “the past due time please.” </p>
<p> “Fifty eight seconds, Ma'am.” </p>
<p> “What's going on here? Who's that?” the elderly lady asked. She was squinting through thick glasses and had a cone to her long, pointed ear for hearing. </p>
<p> “We were late getting back!” the gentle-elf exclaimed. “Fifty-eight seconds and she's writing a ticket.” </p>
<p> “Howzat?” she asked, grabbing her broom from the red glowing spot next to us. It was another ancient Besom 100. Wow. I stared in admiration and well, awe. Awe and wonder. </p>
<p> “The meter maid said I was late and gave me a ticket,” the gentle-elf said with a scowl. Wait, what? Meter maid? I was shocked. </p>
<p> “I am not a meter maid!” I exclaimed. I couldn't help myself. “I'm a Traffic Control Agent!” I showed him my badge. “Compliance division, and right now you're not complying.” </p>
<p> “Is that right?” he said, grabbing his own broom. Both spaces were green now and a waggal was angling into one of them. I was determined to stand firm, but I couldn't help eyeing his broom. I never thought I'd see one again outside of a museum. </p>
<p> “How's that broom fly?” I asked, pointing to his Besom. “It looks pretty old.” </p>
<p> “Oh uh-huh, yeah she is,” he muttered. Then he focused on the broom. “Ah yes. Yes, she is, she's quite old. She's a rare old flyer, a highflyer of grace and beauty.” </p>
<p> “Besom 100, isn't she?” </p>
<p> “Why yes, yes she is.” </p>
<p> “Old wreck, as far as I'm concerned,” the old lady yelped, “I'm going home.” Then she mounted her broom and with a classic cackle, took off. </p>
<p> The old fellow looked at me. “Care to take it for a spin?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. </p>
<p> Would I ever! But I hemmed and I hawed knowing I shouldn't, then, well, I flew that old broom for a few loop the loops, around the block and to the edge of space and back. She handled remarkably well, with a finesse you don't see in modern brooms, even though she was probably hundreds, maybe thousands of years old. Her landing was a bit rough but, oh, what a thrill! </p>
<p> I had my ticket-wizard void the old gent's ticket before continuing my rounds. I mean fifty-eight seconds is easily overlooked, am I right?</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68959992022-02-12T11:18:18-07:002022-03-02T05:07:50-07:00The VIP Visit - By Rosy<p> Darnalongs are insanely colorful birds with tall thin legs, rather like storks, and long yellow beaks with lips on the end. They are known to be eccentric both in dress and outlook. </p>
<p> Windigale Ossep is a famous Darnalong reporter who has many odd Uncles. One particular Uncle named Clankey is a reprobate and a scoundrel. He is also a high ranking member of Darnalong News, Inc. which functions almost like a family. Mainly the Ossep family, I think but I'm not sure, could be a group of likeminded . . . well, let's just say an oddly connected, somewhat disparate group of Darnalongs who identify as members of Darnalong News, Inc. Maybe it's an extended family or maybe they're all just scamming each other. Who knows? Anyway, Uncle Clankey is high up in that thing. Maybe the boss. He usually travels with a marching band who arrive before him so they can musically announce his entrance, whenever possible that is, since Uncle Clankey does not wish to intrude, except whenever possible. </p>
<p> Windy and her sister Addagale share an apartment in the Infinite Hallway beneath the Darnalong Stump behind the Golly Orchard. It's a quiet neighborhood, Section 700-051-Golly, and is inconveniently located several kilometers westerly of the lobby, which is under the Stump, with apartments usually about a kilometer or two apart. </p>
<p> Windy and Addy's nondescript door simply says 'Ossep' on it in barely discernible letters. They do not receive visitors, at least not well, nor any other kind of correspondence. The Infinite Hallway does not have Wi-Fi nor, as you may have guessed, any other kind of reception. So for Windy Ossep to be a famous reporter for Darnalong News, Inc., a reporter who reports the news, many days without even leaving her and Addy's spacious apartment, which is somewhere in the Infinity Hall, is either amazing or ridiculous or ridiculously amazing. This is causing people to wonder how does she do it? </p>
<p> When asked once in a rare interview how she does it she waved a wing nonchalantly and replied, “I just don't think about it, you know I know I just don't know, so when I sing about it, shout about it, how about it goes to show what I don't know then usually, most generally, I mean specifically it's whatever's left that I report.” After a few moments of stunned silence she added, “Not much to see, you see.” </p>
<p> Today her report included a story about the impending visit of Uncle Clankey, a story that disturbed her listeners even more than her normally disturbing content. Oh, I forgot to mention. Darnalong News, Inc. is well known locally as purveyors of bad news. It's disturbing and it has many listeners. But Uncle Clankey? That news was worse and most everyone knew it. People tried to prepare as best they could. </p>
<p> Uncle Clankey arrived the very next morning, crack of dawn. There was a loud, probably amplified, jazz bugle and violin wakeup call from unseen sources. This was followed by a giant hot air balloon, maybe thirty meters long and twelve or so wide, that came rumbling down Elvenstead's main boulevard, hundreds of lights flashing, buzzers buzzing, pushing aside cars and buses not quick enough to get out of the way, bending or breaking stoplights, utility poles and whatever else was in the way. Then, from the forward compartment with strange lights in the windows, music could be heard. It was the rousing sounds of a marching band playing heroic music and when the balloon came to rest in front of the capital the giant cow catcher in front spread apart, knocking aside several more buses and cars, allowing a ramp to come down and that band marched right out, in step, their music blaring. </p>
<p> People stood in stunned disbelief yet were musically roused to solemn, often heroic poses as the band passed by. Then came the great Darnalong himself, Uncle Clankey strutting his stuff. Most the people didn't know who Uncle Clankey was, just that it said in giant red letters on either side of the balloon, 'Uncle Clankey!' and that this personage was arriving in a traffic-crunching balloon with a marching band, well that was enough. Who needed more? This was something they'd all dreamed of doing. Or something like it. They applauded and cheered. Fireworks began popping and fizzing overhead. </p>
<p> Somehow a stage appeared and Uncle Clankey climbed solemnly up the steps and walked slowly, amid thunderous cheers and stamping feet, across the stage then, stopping behind a podium, he raised his scarlet and green fringed wings for silence. The marching band stopped and stood at attention. </p>
<p> “I am thrilled,” he began, holding a wing over his heart, “absolutely thrilled that you all got to see me today!” Now he blew kisses and stepped off the stage. Again the enormous crowd cheered and cheered. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68769072022-01-22T10:15:31-07:002022-01-22T10:15:31-07:00Where Are The Ideas? - By Rosy<p>1. A famous writer talks </p>
<p> “Sometimes, when you're at your wit's end, you just write. Is that right? Is that what you're telling me?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Yes, ma'am,” Lillow, our harried suspect answered with a sullen scowl. “I'm a writer. You know, I gotta write.” </p>
<p> “But even when you're witless?” </p>
<p> She hung her head, “Yes, even then.” With a slight shrug she added, “Maybe especially then.” </p>
<p> “What are you saying? I mean if you've no wits what could you possibly have to say?” </p>
<p> “Well, hopefully the writing will tell you.” </p>
<p> “Huh?” </p>
<p> “Okay, aside from the obvious fact that people without wit have been making pronouncements since time immemorial what I'm saying is that it's in the writing that the story appears. Put down the words and a story will come.” </p>
<p> “Sort of a divination, would you say?” Sgt. Goat asked. </p>
<p> “Perhaps, or maybe you could call it a writing meditation of sorts or even a self-therapy.” </p>
<p> “The answer's within,” Sgt. Goat offers. </p>
<p> “Yes, that's right.” </p>
<p> “So you just start writing, nothing to say, and somehow a story develops?” I ask. </p>
<p> “Hmmm, uh-huh, more or less.” </p>
<p> “Thank you, ma’am, you've been most helpful,” I say, standing up. Sgt. Goat nods as we leave the writer's cubby and head for our squad car. </p>
<p> My name is Chief Detective Inspector General Rosy Gee and my partner is Detective Sergeant Brakley Goat. We operate out of the Elvenstead Metropolitan Police, Investigation Diversion. We are currently investigating the loss of ideas aka writer's block. Where do ideas go before they've even been thought of? It was a shocking situation that has come up again and again and we were tasked with finding the answer. We'd just left the closet-like cubby of the famous writer Lillow Mi who says that ideas sometimes hide in words and phrases and must be coaxed out. </p>
<p> “Let's go see Donald Puffup, the famous artist,” I tell Sgt. Goat. </p>
<p>2. A famous artist brags </p>
<p> We arrive at the Donald Puffup's studio, where the famous artist is currently working on a painting of a window. His shop's window to be exact and it appeared to be a remarkable resemblance. </p>
<p> We watched him work for a few moments before I spoke up, “Excuse me sir, if we could have just a moment of your time, we're conducting a police investigation.” He stopped painting and turned around with a surprised look on his face. I show him my badge and Sgt. Goat shows his. </p>
<p> Wearing a look of genuine innocence he asked, “How may I help you?” </p>
<p> “We're investigating the loss of ideas, especially those ideas that are lost before anyone'd even had a chance to think of them,” I told him. Sgt. Goat got out his notepad. “We're wondering if you might know anything about these ideas?” </p>
<p> He looked surprised, then a little bit put off, “Say, are you saying I made off with someone else's ideas?” </p>
<p> “No, no, nothing like that,” I quickly reassure him. “We were just asking, wondering really, if you knew, whenever you don't have any ideas that is, if you knew, well, where they went?” </p>
<p> “Whatya mean whenever I don't have any ideas? What makes you think I ever run out of ideas?” </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat and I both looked at his painting of his own window. He saw where we were looking and said, “Oh, that. Yes. Well that may seem like a lack of inspiration at first glance, but it is not. It is in fact a, well, it's a statement.” </p>
<p> “A statement?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Yes, that's exactly what it is,” he replied, beaming at his painting. “An existential statement, rather like a picture of a can or something. It just is, and there's a profoundness in that, a deeper meaning that would otherwise be lost.” He whispered, “All too often is lost.” He was looking at me sadly. I wasn't sure I understood. </p>
<p> “You could say it's a still life displaying a sense of life's timeless frailty, perhaps?” Sgt. Goat suggested. </p>
<p> “Why, yes. Yes, you could say it that way.” Puffup puffed up. “In fact, that's just what I meant.” He looked at me with a smirk, “You see Inspector, I always have ideas, so I'm afraid I can't help you find your lost ones.” He returned to his painting and Sgt. Goat and I to our squad car. </p>
<p> “It appears that some people never let ideas escape, Ma'am,” Sgt. Goat stated. </p>
<p> “Yes, it would seem so,” I concurred, reluctantly. I wondered if it were true though. “Let's visit the Bop Bop duBop and Bard Songjoy next,” I told Sgt. Goat. “Let's find out if famous musicians are ever at a loss for ideas.” </p>
<p>3. A famous maestro sings </p>
<p> When we arrived at the Bop Bop duBop, home to the amazing Ballerina Bulls, we went right in looking for Bard Songjoy, the musical director who writes new songs and arrangements every day, just about. The Bop Bop, considered a wreck by most, nonetheless puts on several performances every week and Mr. Songjoy oversees them all. We were lucky and found the maestro during a break from his strenuous schedule of writing hit after hit, lying on the ground in the Bop Bop's driveway. We were, in fact, lucky not to've hit him as he seemed unwilling to move. Sgt. Goat helped him up anyway and we three proceeded to his office near the rubble of a collapsed wing of the Bop Bop duBop. </p>
<p> After he fell into a chair, he looked at me with a weary expression, and asked, “Yeah, what'ya want?” </p>
<p> “Thank you for taking the time to see us Mr. Songjoy,” I began, “We're conducting an investigation into the loss or even absence of ideas, new ideas, in the world.” Now he was giving me a suspicious look. “We thought that since you deal in new ideas every day, well, we thought perhaps you'd know where the others have got to, so to speak.” </p>
<p> Now he looked at Sgt. Goat with such intensity that Sgt. Goat began to squirm. Then he looked back at me with, well, with a scowl, also intense. “You think I got ideas?” I could only nod yes weakly. He continued to look at me then he got up and poured a stiff drink from his well-stocked side bar and turned to me, “Want one?” </p>
<p> “No, I'm on duty,” I answered as Sgt. Goat shook his head no. </p>
<p> He downed his drink in one gulp then poured another before turning back to me. “Ideas?” Now he was smiling sadly. “I haven't had an idea in twenty, uh . . .” </p>
<p> “Years, honey,” a voice spoke from the shadows, someone I hadn't noticed before. “It's been twenty years easy since you had an idea.” Then the person stepped into view. It was a Ballerina Bull. “Old Melvin here hasn't had an idea in twenty years, at least,” the Bull finished. </p>
<p> “I was sorta hoping that you'd run me over in the driveway,” Bard Songjoy muttered. </p>
<p> “Melvin?” Sgt. Goat asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah, that's me,” Bard Songjoy answered. “Bard Melvin Songjoy.” </p>
<p> “No ideas at all?” I was shocked. “I mean, how do you put on all these shows each week?” </p>
<p> “We just go do them,” the Bull answered. “Every show just sort of works itself out. We don't think about it.” </p>
<p> “No one notices,” Bard Songjoy said. </p>
<p> “I'm not so sure about that,” the Bull stated defiantly. “I think Ego is catching on.” </p>
<p> There was a long moment of silence. I figured I was done here since there were no ideas left to lose. Hearing Ego's name I realized I wanted to ask Ego, Sassy Fat and that Faerie manager of theirs a few questions so I thanked Bard Songjoy and the Ballerina Bull and Sgt. Goat and I left. </p>
<p> In the hallway Sgt. Goat turned to me and said, “It's almost like having a complete lack of ideas is an idea of its own, Ma'am.” </p>
<p> “Hmmm, so it would seem Sergeant.” </p>
<p> As we exited, I looked back at the Bop Bop duBop with affection. Somehow, they were making it work and I smiled. </p>
<p> In the squad car Sgt. Goat asked, “Where to, Ma'am?” </p>
<p> “I think we need to go to the Radio Galaxy, Sergeant.” </p>
<p>4. A famous talker explains </p>
<p> We arrived at the Radio Galaxy soon after and walked boldly into their luxurious lobby. Nothing is really as it seems here so we walked slowly, and boldly. There was a mannequin standing by a table, which seemed to be wearing an old time porter's uniform. As we approached it turned its plastic head and smiled. “Always good to see police in the foyer,” it said. I was shocked, I mean how did it know we were police? </p>
<p> “How did you know we were police?” Sgt. Goat asked. </p>
<p> “I keep a big copper penny by the door and whenever another copper walks in it signals like this.” A coppery light flashed across its face and I looked over by the door where a big penny was leaning against the wall reflecting light. “One copper knows another, eh mate?” </p>
<p> I never thought of myself as a copper. I looked at Sgt. Goat who was staring suspiciously at the mannequin. It seemed frozen, staring ahead with blank eyes and a plastic smile. </p>
<p> “So, uh, where do we find Ego and Sassy Fat?” I asked. </p>
<p> “You got an appointment?” </p>
<p> “Police business.” </p>
<p> “Oh dear!” a flighty voice chirped from the corner. A faerie emerged walking languidly toward us. “Whatever has he done this time?” </p>
<p> “Are you Ego's manager?” I ask. </p>
<p> “Oh, good heavens no. I'm Figgura Ta, his lawyer. How may I help you?” </p>
<p> “We just wanted to ask a few questions,” I answered. “No one's under suspicion or anything, we're just investigating where ideas go.” </p>
<p> “Where ideas go?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, being creative types you all must notice that sometimes there's less or even no ideas. Where do they go?” </p>
<p> He gave me a curious look. “I don't even know where they come from,” he said. </p>
<p> Now I was looking at him curiously. It was like an epiphany! Where do they come from? It could be, probably is, I thought excitedly, the same place they go to. </p>
<p> “Thank you, Mr. Ta, you've been most helpful. We won't need to talk with Ego after all.” I was secretly pleased because Ego is difficult to deal with. </p>
<p> “I am the source of all ideas,” the familiar voice of Ego proclaimed, coming out from somewhere. I was confused because there hadn't seemed to be any hiding places in the room, just one set of entrance doors, the table with the frozen mannequin, and not much else. A few potted plants here and there. I turned and there was Ego, larger than life. “I am the fountain from whence ideas flow and I am the well when ere they go.” </p>
<p> “Good day Mr. Ego sir. Thank you that is quite useful, really I . . .” </p>
<p> “Oh no! My glory is blinding,” Ego interrupted. “I have left you confused and floundering, like staring into the sun, alas, how can I but dampen my brilliance?” </p>
<p> “No, uh, no really I'm just fine,” I said. “And we got all we needed, and really, I want to thank you Mr. Ego, sir and I hope you have a nice day. Uh Sergeant, let's be on our way.” I turned and walked out with Sgt. Goat right behind. We were silent until we were in the squad car. </p>
<p> “Well Ma'am,” Sgt. Goat began, “is Ego really the beginning and ending of all ideas?” </p>
<p> “I think for Ego perhaps,” I answered, “but probably not so much for anyone else.” I was getting hungry and I looked at my watch. “It's been a long day Sergeant, let's go back to the office and figure out what we've got.” </p>
<p>5. Another case is solved </p>
<p> Back in our office we settled in. “The case so far,” I began, thinking out loud with my feet on my desk and Sgt. Goat sipping coffee nearby, “is first that ideas can hide in words or perhaps anything and can be discerned by their application.” </p>
<p> “Lillow did say too that being witless, at first anyway, that being witless at the start can be beneficial,” Sgt. Goat added. </p>
<p> “Yes, just so,” I agreed. “Next we have the case of no ideas being the primary idea that gives birth to the rest.” </p>
<p> “The utter lack of ideas becomes the founding idea?” Sgt. Goat asked. </p>
<p> “Yes, that's right. Somehow the idea lack creates a space that is quickly filled by new ideas that everyone can then respond to. Look at how well the Bop Bop duBop is doing despite being absolutely rudderless.” </p>
<p> “I love that place,” Sgt. Goat commented, smiling. </p>
<p> “I do too, Sergeant.” I paused, thinking. “Ego may well be the complete idea source for Ego, which allows him to bloom in his own way but at the same time cuts him off from the ideas of others.” </p>
<p> “But he still gets ideas,” Sgt. Goat remarked. </p>
<p> “So it would seem,” I said. I'd heard that Ego's program of, as he puts it, unpopular views in flowery phrases, and his Dr. Snarky persona, were not that popular. His audience was decreasing, hopefully because his incendiary views were spoiling flowery language but more likely because he just didn't interest people like he used to. He'd lost his shock value. Whatever, I was glad. </p>
<p> I continued, “But catching only his ideas and no one else's may also be what's preventing him from receiving feedback about his abhorrent behavior, so he never changes, never gets better.” </p>
<p> “He probably wouldn't listen anyway,” Sgt. Goat observed. </p>
<p> “Not anymore,” I nodded agreement. “And Donald Puffup caught every idea he could then made them work, good or bad.” </p>
<p> “It's difficult to get a sense of this whole thing Ma'am,” Sgt. Goat stated. </p>
<p> “Maybe not,” I said. “Perhaps what we've learned is that ideas come no matter what and what is different is each person's ability to catch them.” </p>
<p> “Not sure I follow,” he said. </p>
<p> “Well Lillow caught ideas by writing words, even vacuous words, Bard Songjoy caught ideas by having none himself, Donald Puffup caught every idea he could and made them work and Ego caught Ego's ideas, but the thing they all had was a way to catch ideas.” </p>
<p> “So there's no shortage of ideas,” Sgt. Goat said with a smile, “just different ways of catching them.” </p>
<p> “That's right. Some better than others. The only difference being each person's ability.” </p>
<p> “And that would involve desire, training and practice,” he finished. </p>
<p> “That's right,” I agreed. “Catch them before they can fly off into space.” </p>
<p> “But then, where do they come from?” Sgt. Goat asked. “Where do ideas originate?” </p>
<p> “Always from within Sergeant. From the center of ourselves that is connected to the world, that's where they come from. You just gotta catch 'em.” Sgt. Goat nodded agreement with a thoughtful look. I smiled at him, “Let's write our report and go home, Sergeant. Another case is solved.” </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68768952022-01-22T10:14:43-07:002022-01-22T10:14:43-07:00The Goddengwick Runners - Rosy<p> The Goddengwick Running Club were good and quick. That was their motto, good and quick, and has been since the beginning of time, pretty near. They would sing as they ran, “We're Goddengwick, we're good and quick, la-la, la-la.” People would gaze in wonder as they passed, running and singing to the rhythmic pitter-patter of their sneakered feet and the huff huff of their Goddengwick breath. Kilometer after kilometer they ran, stopping for nothing and no man, singing their song. </p>
<p> One day they were running like they do, singing loudly, when suddenly the front row stopped, causing a pile up. Looking ahead they could see that a big rock blocked the road and had in fact knocked out the entire front row and maybe half the second row of runners. Pretty much all the leading Goddengwicks were knocked out after running into that big rock. The other Goddengwick Runners milled about until dinner time when they went home. Happily the entire club was home by midnight. </p>
<p> The next day a group made up of third, fourth and even fifth row runners were thrilled and delighted to discover they'd been promoted to the first and second row. The thrill of leading the pack is not only venerated but eagerly sought out, with some taking years to reach even second row. </p>
<p> Spirits were high as the day's run began with the proud new leaders setting a goodly pace. Pitter-patter, all together, “We're Goddengwick, we're good and quick, la-la, la-la.” </p>
<p> Remembering the unpleasantness of yesterday's run, a run truncated by other-worldly events, probably a meteor or some other mysteriously occurring big rock phenomenon, they chose a different road. This run was fine. Just fine until suddenly, inexplicably, the front row stopped, causing a pile up. Looking ahead they could see that a big rock blocked the road and that the entire first row and a goodly portion of the second row were quite knocked out. </p>
<p> The resemblance to yesterday's disturbance was uncanny, a point the remaining runners frequently brought up as they milled about. Not all the runners made it home that night and a few were missing for the next day's run. As if this wasn't disturbing enough, it was becoming increasingly difficult to find new front row runners. The club was facing an existential threat. Apparently, none of them had joined to get knocked out. Not one. </p>
<p> They began this day's run without any first row at all which put the second row in a curious position. Some second rowers might have argued the point but it was time to run and when it was time to run, they ran. The second row appeared to be leading but everyone knew they weren't, it was just that you couldn't see the first row. Then, when the first row suddenly stopped, somehow no one knew about it until the second row suddenly stopped and this caused a pile up. Yep, big rock in the road again despite being a different road, but this time other rows got knocked out. This time it was the second and a goodly portion of the third row. The first row fared much better this time and this was seen as a positive development. </p>
<p> Now, while the Goddengwick Runners were looking for a front row and grappling with their existential threats, it became apparent to the Road Maintenance Department (RMD) that big rocks in the road were becoming all too common and were in fact now blocking all roads in and out. Big rocks, seemingly insurmountable rocks, on every road. Now was the time to act. The chief engineer went to those rocks and drilled holes into each and every one which he then filled with dynamite and proceeded to blow those rocks to smithereens. Next the paving machines came and put in a new road. On the very day they finished, the Goddengwick Runners came pitter-patter all together, “We're Goddengwick, we're good and quick, la-la, la-la.” </p>
<p> Their arrival startled the RMD workers, who gazed in wonder as pitter-patter all together the Goddengwick Runners passed without a glance. </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68768942022-01-22T10:14:07-07:002022-01-22T10:14:07-07:00Ticket Master - By Roxy<p> Hello. Now listen: I'm Traffic Control Agent Jant Rivitir, Parking Compliance Division. My people are called PCA's; Parking Compliance Agents and we'll ticket you faster than that, even faster if we have to because we're tough, dedicated professionals, impossible to bribe so don't even try. </p>
<p> Our job is why we're tough, because it's a tough job. Each lane and byway in Elvenstead is lined with parked waggals, brooms, rolled up carpets, bicycles, tricycles and cycles without wheels, umbrellas and whatever else people use to get around with. Just sitting there waiting for their masters to return and all this must be regulated and paid for. That's a tough job and it's my job. I make my rounds on a small service broom, a practical Damfaster with a little robot ticket-wizard floating along behind. Soon as your time is up, believe me, I'm there. Or one of the other PCA's patrolling Elvenstead's streets. Our division isn't very big so if we're not there right away, please just wait a bit, we shan't be long. </p>
<p> Today I'm patrolling South Elvenstead along Weevin Boulevard and down to Rattern Way, that whole area. Considered a poor part of town with grog and mead dens, rundown rentals and a lot of poor people, dwarves mainly but elves, faeries, humans, trolls, all are here, even an orc or two no doubt, and all park their </p>
<p>mobiles along the boulevard. Whenever someone has overstayed their time, their space begins to glow red. That's when I show up, issue a ticket and justice is served. It's an implacable process. </p>
<p> I see a space glowing red a ways up the boulevard and accelerate my Damfaster swooping down on the malefactor's space. It contained an ancient Besom 100, a broom I haven't seen since I was a kid, and they were ancient then. I stared in fascination as my ticket-wizard printed the citation, which I reverently stuck to the broom. Just then the next space started glowing red. </p>
<p> “What's going on here?” a loud voice spoke behind me. </p>
<p> I turned to see two elderly types, stylish elves who evoked a lost era of grace and dignity. </p>
<p> “Good morning, sir. I'm ticketing these two spaces for being past due.” </p>
<p> “That's preposterous!” the old gentle-elf exclaimed. “It could not have been more than a few seconds past, a minute at most.” </p>
<p> “Past due is past due,” I stated, trying to be nice. “Ticket-Master,” I said to the ticket-wizard, “the past due time please.” </p>
<p> “Fifty eight seconds, Ma'am.” </p>
<p> “What's going on here? Who's that?” the elderly lady asked. She was squinting through thick glasses and had a cone to her long, pointed ear for hearing. </p>
<p> “We were late getting back!” the gentle-elf exclaimed. “Fifty-eight seconds and she's writing a ticket.” </p>
<p> “Howzat?” she asked, grabbing her broom from the red glowing spot next to us. It was another ancient Besom 100. Wow. I stared in admiration and well, awe. Awe and wonder. </p>
<p> “The meter maid said I was late and gave me a ticket,” the gentle-elf said with a scowl. Wait, what? Meter maid? I was shocked. </p>
<p> “I am not a meter maid!” I exclaimed. I couldn't help myself. “I'm a Traffic Control Agent!” I showed him my badge. “Compliance division, and right now you're not complying.” </p>
<p> “Is that right?” he said, grabbing his own broom. Both spaces were green now and a waggal was angling into one of them. I was determined to stand firm, but I couldn't help eyeing his broom. I never thought I'd see one again outside of a museum. </p>
<p> “How's that broom fly?” I asked, pointing to his Besom. “It looks pretty old.” </p>
<p> “Oh uh-huh, yeah she is,” he muttered. Then he focused on the broom. “Ah yes. Yes, she is, she's quite old. She's a rare old flyer, a high flyer of grace and beauty.” </p>
<p> “Besom 100, isn't she?” </p>
<p> “Why yes, yes she is.” </p>
<p> “Old wreck, as far as I'm concerned,” the old lady yelped, “I'm going home.” Then she mounted her broom and with a classic cackle, took off. </p>
<p> The old fellow looked at me. “Care to take it for a spin?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. </p>
<p> Would I ever! But I hemmed and I hawed knowing I shouldn't, then, well, I flew that old broom for a few loop the loops, around the block and to the edge of space and back. She handled remarkably well, with a finesse you don't see in modern brooms, even though she was probably hundreds, maybe thousands of years old. Her landing was a bit rough but, oh, what a thrill! </p>
<p> I had my ticket-wizard void the old gent's ticket before continuing my rounds. I mean fifty-eight seconds is easily overlooked, am I right?</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68484792021-12-21T18:18:02-07:002021-12-21T18:18:02-07:00Creepy Things - By Rosy<p>1. Where does it start? </p>
<p> They used to come at night, the creepy things, they'd come with groans and rattling chains and distant screams, whose effect was, as the creepy things intended, dismay and fear. Why would anyone want more of those? most everyone asked in genuine puzzlement. It seemed unfathomable but I suppose that's why they're creepy things. Because it's creepy to want fear and worry. Yeah, okay but why are there creepy things? How'd that crap get started? I'm Chief Detective Inspector General Rosy Gee and my partner is Detective Sergeant Brakly Goat and that's the case that was given to us. Just how did that crap get started? </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat and I began our investigation by visiting the creepy center of a creepy neighborhood. It was a total creep-out and much more terrifying during the day than at night, where you mostly can't see them. We approached a group of likely suspects and demanded, “Take us to your leader.” The nearest creepy thing began emitting clouds of green smoke through various orifices and we were deterred. I saw other creepy things just beyond that were doing stuff that should only be done at night or better not done at all. Things like turning into a slavering wolf and eating a pigeon, or into a bat then reappearing right behind you and smiling grimly when you jump. That's some scary stuff for broad daylight. We moved on to avoid the green smoke. After a while the creepy stuff began to seem banal, meaningless, a useless debasement of life with no winners. </p>
<p> Finally the creepy stuff was creepy and I wondered if investigating what was likely just the symptom of something much deeper was a good approach. Maybe a way to see into this darkness perhaps but oughtn't there be a better way? </p>
<p> “Let's get out of here,” I tell Sgt. Goat and we head for the squad car. </p>
<p> I think of Yin and Yang, the two opposing forces that are forever dancing around each other. One is light and the other is dark. Neither is totally good or totally bad, about equal that way. It's in the extremes that the angelic or devilish energies can emerge, dangerous energies that are often indistinguishable from each other. Energies that seem divine and good or divine and bad. Two sides of the same coin which is divinity. One side light, one side dark, one side active, one side passive but in all cases the center is divine. </p>
<p> “Where're we heading?” Sgt. Goat asks as we enter our vehicle. </p>
<p> “Let's just sit here in this creepy neighborhood for a while,” I answered. Truth is, I had no idea where to go next. Where do you go to find the source of evil? You can hear and see its effects everywhere. Even on short strolls through relatively affluent neighborhoods you encounter suffering, pain, need on practically every corner. What makes it all happen? What nurtures the creepy things? </p>
<p> “Greed, exclusion, indifference to the feelings of others, hate, these are all what you see around us, Ma'am,” Sgt. Goat commented. </p>
<p> I was startled as he seemed to be answering my thoughts and I looked at him curiously. “So where you figure it starts at?” I asked him. “I mean back to the beginning sort of thing. The source, the original source I guess you could say.” </p>
<p> He shrugged, then said, “I dunno. The more you see the more you see.” </p>
<p> I looked at him curiously again, “What's that mean?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Well, it's almost like just paying attention leads to seeing more creepy than if you didn't pay attention.” </p>
<p> “The only thing different being the amount of attention you give it,” I add. </p>
<p> “But the creepy level is still the same, regardless of the attention you give it,” he finished with a frown. </p>
<p> “Actually it seems to be increasing,” I said, looking around at the creepy neighborhood. “And not just here either. Everywhere.” </p>
<p>2. A believer's view. </p>
<p> We sat in silence for a while. Then I told Sgt. Goat to take us to the High and Holy Church of Lenfast the Speedy where the Lennard Graklen, the church's spiritual leader, had his offices. Lennard is the highest rank in the church, then Lenny, then Len. A Len is a church member, a Lenny would lead a congregation, and the Lennards, only four at this time, are the spiritual leaders so Lennard Graklen was way up there and I figured he'd have some valuable input on this. After we left the creepy neighborhoods, where reception is usually pretty bad, we phoned ahead to make sure he was in. He was and when informed that this was police business, he agreed to see us. </p>
<p> I was optimistic and energized when we pulled up in front of the stately cathedral that was, in fact, the number one main Church of Lenfast the Speedy. Lennard Graklen is the number one main guy, even more than the other three Lennards, and the spiritual leader of all the Lens everywhere. He'd know for sure where the evil started at. </p>
<p> Lennard Graklen was frowning when we walked into his spacious office. Giving me a hard look he said, “This better be important Inspector.” He watched with a wary expression as I sat in one of the two comfortable chairs in front of the desk while Sgt. Goat took the other. </p>
<p> “It is Lennard, it is probably the most important investigation ever undertaken by the greater Elvenstead Police Force's Criminal Investigations Unit.” I liked throwing that impressive stuff out there. The EPF always gets their attention and I could see the Lennard sit up, his expression turning to one of concern. </p>
<p> “Yes, yes, of course,” he muttered, “Always glad to help the police.” He seemed nervous. </p>
<p> “Well, yes,” I continued, “We're looking for the cause of evil. Where it comes from, originally, I mean, and why we have it, that sort of thing.” He seemed to be giving me an odd look. “It's rather your . . .” I stopped as he was now giving me a look of genuine amazement. </p>
<p> “The source of evil, you say?” he asked in disbelief. “Why it's clearly predators! Fast predators! Everyone knows that. Is this really what you're investigating?” </p>
<p> “I, uh, yes,” I answered. “Yes, it is. We'd, uh well, we'd like to put a stop to it. Evil that is. We want to stop evil.” </p>
<p> “You want to stop evil from existing in the world?” </p>
<p> “Well, it doesn't sound so good when you say it,” I murmur. “But, well, yes, yes we do.” I could feel myself blushing under his stern gaze. </p>
<p> He stared at me without expression for a few long moments. I could hear Sgt. Goat shuffling his feet nervously. </p>
<p> The Lennard Graklen stood, “Well that was nice,” he said, “I'm sure you'll be chasing other important clues, despite my comprehensive answer. Please do keep me informed. Good day Officers.” </p>
<p> Quicker than you'd think we were outside and heading toward our police car. “He makes a good point, Ma'am,” Sgt. Goat remarked. “I mean the whole predatory thing does seem, well . . .” </p>
<p> “Seem what sergeant? Bad? Do you think it seems bad to the predator who's just trying to make a living?” </p>
<p> “Well, no Ma'am. Not when you say it that way. I mean I see your point, I guess the predator would see it as good.” </p>
<p> “Life affirming,” I concur. He just nods. </p>
<p>3. A Royal opinion </p>
<p> Back in the police car I tell Sgt. Goat to take us to the capitol where the King lives. We are lucky and the King is home today, but very busy, the front door guard explained. “Perhaps you could tell me the nature of your visit?” he asked. My prestigious title, CDIG, grants us access without revealing our mission. To the Third High Minister anyway. </p>
<p> The Third High Minister is more adamant and will not grant us further entrance without a full explanation. </p>
<p> “It's a police investigation,” I say, “You must not obstruct justice!” </p>
<p> “Yeah, and this here's the King, so what'ya want?” </p>
<p> Darn, I don't like bureaucrats. “We're looking for the source of evil and we thought the King might have some ideas, okay?” </p>
<p> “Really? That's what you're investigating?” said King Overwood himself from behind me. </p>
<p> I swung around, “Your highness!” I sputtered, too shocked to say more. I sure wish people would stop asking me that question, especially in that tone of voice. He was looking at me expectantly. I started blustering, “It's just that . . . I mean, well, we are, I'm sure you're aware probably and I thought but just in case you're not, we, we are, yes, we are, in fact, looking for the, uh, source of all, uh, well, evil.” I suspect I sounded pretty lame. I knew I did when I glanced at Sgt. Goat and I was blushing horribly. </p>
<p> “Well that's simple enough,” the King said nonchalantly. I stared, dumbfounded. “It's Joten.” My jaw hit the floor. “Just look east to Joten if you want to see where evil comes from Inspector. Now if you'll excuse me, I am busy.” </p>
<p> Joten is the troll kingdom way east of us. It was evil for sure but the source of all evil? For the whole world? Then I thought of the Grimn-Leapers in Joten, those demonic creatures who create the trolls. They are about the vilest creatures one can imagine, except maybe orcs and then there's . . . I realized that there were many evil creatures. Creatures driven by evil, reveling in evil, wallowing in evil but are they somehow collectively the source of evil? Sgt. Goat poked me in the back. </p>
<p> I snapped out of my revery, “Oh! Yes, your highness. Thank you, that makes sense.” I bowed but he was already gone so I turned to leave, Sgt. Goat behind me. </p>
<p> We were both silent until we were in the police car then Sgt. Goat asked, “So is that it, Ma'am? Is Joten the ultimate source of evil?” </p>
<p> “I'm gonna have to give that some thought Sergeant, seriously, some thought, but I gotta tell you, I have my doubts.” </p>
<p> He nodded, then asked, “Where to now?” </p>
<p> “Head for Brad Tower,” I answered. </p>
<p>4. Corporate climbing </p>
<p> I knew Brad Puffup was the CEO and CCG (Chief Executive Officer and Chief Commander General) of Brad Incorporated, reportedly the biggest and wealthiest corporation in the world. Brad himself has claimed it's the biggest in the universe but has refused to elaborate on that claim rather turning again, and again, to how great it is that Brad Industries is here to care for us. No one actually knows what Brad Inc. does specifically or perhaps better said, what Brad Inc. doesn't do. It has its proverbial finger in every pie while never being itself an entire pie. Brad, or Lord Brad as he is known, likes to keep his businesses private, compartmentalized, out of the news, behind the scenes, but always there, always ready to step in. Lurking some would say, predatory even and I thought of Lennard Graklen saying predators were the source of all evil. Now I'm not saying this guy, this Lord Brad fellow is evil but I do think he'd at least have some insights into it. </p>
<p> Brad Tower is so tall that you cannot actually see the top from the ground, even on a clear day. The receptionist machine inside the lobby offered no 'visit Brad' options so I phoned and punched zero until an actual being answered then gave them my own rather impressive title followed by the 'official police business' phrase. As expected, I was fairly quickly, around twenty minutes I think, connected to the great man's private secretary, a prim and proper sounding young elf named Elvengud, who told us we could have five minutes with his Lordship in one hour then abruptly broke the connection. The receptionist machine issued me a pass and told me to wait out front. Soon a helicopter landed to take us up to Brad Puffup's palatial penthouse estate. </p>
<p> By the time we got to the landing pad located inside a giant bay under the penthouse twenty-five minutes had passed. A quick one floor elevator ride and we were in the penthouse reception area facing a wall-sized plaque with the words, Here is the Great and All Powerful, the Puissant and Mighty Lord Brad, in large gold letters. Below that in smaller gray letters was 'Please make a selection' and below that was a vertical row of buttons, the top being, 'Receive Wisdom and Blessing'. The next down was, 'Buy Autographed Book – My Amazing Life! by Brad Puffup'. The next down was 'Watch Fascinating Video about the Amazing Life! of our Founder the Lord Brad'. Next down, 'Listen To Encouragement from Lord Brad - This week: Life is a Plum.' The last button was 'Other'. That is the one I pushed. </p>
<p> The wall-sized plaque turned out to be a giant flat-screen monitor that became the face for the prim and proper young elf we'd talked to earlier. </p>
<p> “You're twenty-five minutes early,” he snapped. “Sit in the comfortable lounge and enjoy a beverage from one of the vending machines.” The screen returned to introduction and choices. </p>
<p> I sat down and Sgt. Goat went for coffee. When he returned with the coffee, he told me it'd cost three times what coffee stands charge. I told him to keep the receipt. After twenty-five minutes were up, there was a gong and the screen showed the young elf's face again. </p>
<p> “The Lord Brad will see you now.” </p>
<p> The screen changed to that of a lush garden with a bubbling fountain. A weighty man sat in a golden recliner next to an ornate desk under a canopy protecting this outdoor office from the bright sun overhead. An attractive young woman sat by the desk with an open note pad in front of her. They both watched us with wary expressions. That garden must be on top of the building, I thought. </p>
<p> “Yes, hello then,” I said. “I'm Inspector Gee and this is . . .” </p>
<p> “I know who you are,” Brad said sternly. “What are you investigating?” </p>
<p> “Well sir, we're looking for something,” I answered. His eyebrows rose with interest. “We need to find the source of evil in the world.” It was somehow easier to say it this time. He continued watching me without changing his expression. The young woman wrote something down. </p>
<p> Finally after a long moment he asked, “Really? This is your investigation?” I nodded meekly. There was that dratted question again asked in that same tone of voice. He continued, “You want to find the source of something that's existed in life since the very beginning?” It did sound daunting the way he said it. I nodded again. “Well, it's competition and stupidity. Same thing really. That's what causes evil.” The image disappeared and the original introduction screen appeared. </p>
<p> Suddenly our pilot was there. “You ready to go then?” I wasn't sure if it was a question or a command. We stood and were ushered quickly into the elevator then into the helicopter and just like that we were walking over to our police car. </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat looked back at the retreating helicopter then at me, “So is that it, Ma'am?” I could see the doubt in his eyes. “Is it people competing for resources, maybe cheating, maybe . . .” We both looked upward at Brad Tower whose top is so high it cannot be seen from the ground and wondered. </p>
<p>5. The troll business </p>
<p> Ronny, Gorjy and Donny Gipper, three generations of Gippers in fact, run a factory in the wilderness to the east of Elvenstead called Gipper's Grand Old Goods. Their factory ostensibly makes gewgaws and trinkets to sell to the booming tourists in Elvenstead's booming tourist industry. We on the force have long suspected that they are running a troll factory in the basement but have never been able to prove it. So far, we haven't even been able to find the basement. I decided that we needed to visit that factory again. Then, when a call came in about a new troll causing trouble in lower Elvenstead, I knew how to do it. </p>
<p> There was the usual police investigation of the troll, who denied everything and was sent packing to Joten, followed by the customary questioning of the Gipper's, the owners of the alleged troll factory, along with a search-warranted search of the aforementioned factory. Since everyone suspected them of making trolls a raid was pretty routine whenever a troll was discovered. Sgt. Goat and I joined the police raid as I wanted the freedom to look around that the search warrant offered plus this would be a perfect time to ask Ronny, Gorjy and Donny their perspectives on evil. </p>
<p> Ronny was the oldest, maybe seventy, seventy-five but he looked a hundred. He was stiff with a pale, waxy complexion and appeared to be always smiling or smirking behind seemingly vacuous eyes. I've never seen him stand or be wheeled around if he needed that. He just sits there behind his imposing desk, smiling through his obfuscations, boasts and lies, moving nothing but his arms and that rarely. This guy would know evil, I was sure. </p>
<p> Then there was Gorjy, the middle aged nice guy. He had a round, pleasantly mild mannered face with a near genuine smile and a firm handshake. Somehow his eyes never smiled. </p>
<p> The last and unquestionably the least, was Donny the delinquent. That's how I thought of him anyway. Thirtyish, pompous and vain, he wore his bottle blonde hair in a delicately styled pompadour and strutted instead of walking, posturing his image of alpha-male macho. He was never wrong and never apologized for anything, denying his myriad petty crimes in the face of solid evidence. The family's lawyers were very good and the Gippers were very elusive, having spent their lifetimes outwitting the law in their acquisition of wealth. This guy is evil through and through and I'll bet he'd have something interesting to say on the subject. </p>
<p> We arrived just after the police raid had begun and the Gippers' office was in a turmoil. Grandpa Ronny, the only seemingly calm presence, was perched in his traditional spot behind his imposing desk with his trademark smirk in place watching. The dutiful son Gorjy was pacing back and forth in front of the desk and scowling at the police while Grandson Donny was nowhere to be found. </p>
<p> I approached Ronny first. As always with Grandpa Ronny, I couldn't tell if he was alive or not until I saw his eyes turn to me. </p>
<p> “Hey Mr. Gipper,” I said. “I'm Inspector Gee of the Elvenstead Police, CID and this is Sgt. Goat. We've met before as I'm sure you remember.” Ronny's face remained impassive. “Uh-huh. Well we're looking into the nature of evil, specifically its source. We thought you might have some insights since you're, uh since you can see, I mean, well, we just thought that maybe you'd have something to say about it. About evil I mean, not that you're evil or anything like that, no sir. I'm not saying that at all but well, we just thought, you know, that you'd give us your insight.” I stopped but his face hadn't changed. I continued, “As founder of this big factory, you know, with its, well, er, basement, or maybe not but still you've seen a lot, done a lot . . .” </p>
<p> “Say, what's this all about?” an angry voice broke in behind me. I turned and was confronted by Gorjy's anger-distorted face, his hands on his hips. </p>
<p> “Oh, hey Gorjy! I was just asking Grandpa about his views on evil, what causes it, where it came from, that sort of thing and I wanted to get your views as well.” I smiled engagingly. </p>
<p> Gorjy's eyes went round, “Really? This is what you're investigating?” Darn, that question, that tone. I nodded. “Well, I'll tell you what evil is! Its police harassment, that's what! Pure evil, why just look around here.” He gestured at the policemen rummaging through their cupboards and cabinets. “That's what evil is!” Gorjy was beet red but Ronny's face remained unchanged. </p>
<p> “Thank you, sir,” I said, smiling reassuringly. “We'll add your insightful response to our investigation.” </p>
<p> “You wouldn't happen to know where Donny is at would you?” Sgt. Goat asked. Neither of us noticed that Gorjy was getting redder and redder, his fists clenching and unclenching, his neck tendons becoming prominent. </p>
<p> “Out!” he screamed, pointing at the door. </p>
<p> “Well, we do have a search warrant,” I said uncertainly as I was starting to notice his redness and the tension. </p>
<p> “Out!” he repeated, still pointing. “Go ask your stupid questions and search warrant intrusions somewhere else. Go!” Sgt. Goat and I both left. </p>
<p> Out front Sgt. Goat asked, “Where to now, Ma'am?” Just then Donny pulled up with a revving engine and squealing tires. We watched as he swung the door open and jumped out, running toward the office without closing it behind him. </p>
<p> “Donny, could we have a moment?” I called as he ran. He turned and looked at me incredulously, uttered an expletive and continued on. </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat looked at me, “I would assume, Ma'am, that they'd probably all agree with Gorjy's assessment, that police harassment is the source of all evil?” he asked as we stood there watching the raid unfold. </p>
<p> “I'd say for sure right now. But if that is truly their main concern then they must be hiding something,” I answered. “Let's go look around.” I led the sergeant into the factory itself. There were large machines that produced the various trinkets and gewgaws lined up in rows with their output in bins in front of each. The machines were humming but did not seem to be producing any trinkets. Various sullen workers, city elves and humans mostly, stood around watching the police who were looking into everything. The police appeared to be doing a very thorough job and I nodded approvingly. I had a hunch, as did the entire force, that these Gipper's were making trolls and one way or another we'd catch them. </p>
<p>6. The case is solved, for now. </p>
<p> In the police car I told Sgt. Goat to take us back to the station. We needed to make some sort of sense from all our answers, seemingly different, to the question where does evil come from. Back in the squad room I began naming our discoveries. </p>
<p> “First we experienced everyday creepy in a creepy neighborhood,” I grimaced at the memory. </p>
<p> “I know what you said, about it being creepier by day because you can see them but I think it's creepier at night, when it's dark,” Sgt. Goat said. “They can creep up on you easier in the dark.” </p>
<p> That made sense but I didn't want to admit it. “Yeah, okay,” I grudgingly agreed. “But the thing is, it was creepy and you couldn't tell where that creepy came from. It was just there.” </p>
<p> “It didn't grow there,” Sgt. Goat continued, “I mean there's no apparent reason for the creepy place to be evil, yet it is.” </p>
<p> “So it came from without,” I said, musingly. “So is King Overwood right when he says evil comes from Joten?” </p>
<p> “It is a nasty place and we know they make trolls there. And the trolls that make their way here from time to time are evil, intent on causing trouble.” </p>
<p> “Without being seen if they can manage,” I add. “So I wonder if those trolls somehow infect us with evil so that it spreads and creates creepy places?” </p>
<p> “It makes sense,” Sgt. Goat said. </p>
<p> “But then,” I continue, “how do we account for Brad Puffup's assertion that evil is competition?” </p>
<p> “And stupidity,” Sgt. Goat added. “He seemed to equate them, like competing is stupid.” </p>
<p> “Hmm, he appears to be saying we'd be better off if he was in charge and his business was allowed to function freely, unencumbered by competition.” I ponder this for a moment. “I suppose regulations or anything really that restrains his business could be classified as competition.” </p>
<p> “Can't blame that on Joten,” Sgt. Goat murmured. </p>
<p> “No you can't” I agree. “And police harassment, like the Gippers say, is also a restraint to their business, a competition you could say.” </p>
<p> “Trinkets aren't very important,” Sgt. Goat observes. </p>
<p> “But it's not about the trinkets, it's about the profit that selling them can bring and you gotta make them cheap to do that.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, that makes sense.” </p>
<p> “Perfectly innocent it would seem. Yet they remain under suspicion for making trolls. How could the trolls benefit them?” I'm stuck. </p>
<p> “They sure keep the police busy,” Sgt. Goat lamented. </p>
<p> “That's it!” I exclaim. “They're distracting the police so the police won't pay attention to them. Except they do.” </p>
<p> “Well, that's not it then,” Sgt. Goat said. “So why does Joten do it?” </p>
<p> “It's the Grimn-Leapers,” I answered. I knew a little bit about these guys. “These are creatures who've made a leap of faith that's so extreme they sort of meld into it. They literally become what they worship which is, in every case, a deity that only existed in their own minds so that they become trapped in some sort of sadomasochistic self-trance that is so distorted it can only exude evil. Professor Rivitir at Elvenstead University studied the phenomenon and actually managed to interview several of them. Elvenstead prison has a few still. But anyway he said they do evil because they love it. Evil looks holy and good to them. They're energetic in dispensing it, seeming to feed on the anger, pain and fear of others.” </p>
<p> “Wow, those guys are truly creepy,” Sgt. Goat said. </p>
<p> “They're ghastly,” I agreed. “So maybe some become evil through extremism but I sort of think that some are just born bad.” </p>
<p> “You're thinking of Gorjy, huh?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, I was,” I laughed. “but he's just one. There's more. I mean there's actually quite a lot of people who just seem to be born bad.” </p>
<p> “I don't see how we can find the source for that,” Sgt. Goat stated. </p>
<p> “Past lives maybe, but whatever it's out of our jurisdiction.” </p>
<p> “So what do we report?” </p>
<p> “That evil is ancient, something we've always had apparently because some are born to it, seemingly naturally, while new evil is created by greed, anger, stupidity, sloth and hate. We can't do anything about the first except defend ourselves and fight it but we can do something about the second. If we want a just society, we must eliminate poverty and massive wealth, all forms of supremacy and subservience. Most of all we much teach. Ignorance must never be normalized for that is where evil thrives.” </p>
<p> Sgt. Goat smiled his agreement and we filed our report. Another case solved. I wonder what we'll get next?</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68070722021-11-12T10:53:52-07:002021-11-12T10:53:52-07:00Sometimes It Works - By Lillow G<p> There was a statue of Lenfast in the square, establishing this as a village of small people. Lenfast was the God of Fast and Faster who was worshiped by the smaller people of the land. People whose existence involved avoiding or escaping from the larger things that either paid them no mind, pushing and stepping on them or chasing after them. Those who loved Lenfast could, it is said, in an emergency, draw on the numinous energy imparted by Lenfast to go that extra mile, so to speak. Or that extra speed necessary in evasive actions, that's what Lenfast promised. All the survivors of these nefarious encounters swore that it was Lenfast that got them through. Those who didn't survive never really talked about it. </p>
<p> Birtlen was the top member of the clergy in the Big Church of Lenfast and was called a Lennard. Besides being a high ranking Lennard he was also leader of the Lenfast congregation in Pixieville, a community of Pixies near the Elvenstead Akashic Records, Tomes, Crystal Balls and Exchanges Division. Lennard Birtlen loved that library and spent as much time as he could there. Today he was studying the application of Chaos Theory to velocity in quick escape situations, a subject he planned to lecture on this week in church. He had spent the afternoon in the library's Reference and Divination section studying up and was preoccupied with checking his notes as he left so he didn't notice the Troll who'd come walking up from the other way, oblivious to the underlying communities of small folk hereabouts. </p>
<p> A curious aspect of the Akashic Records is that they can be accessed by people of all sizes. From giants larger than trolls and dragons to people as small as Færies and Pixies. Even bigger and even smaller are possible, one at a time of course, just as pretty much every shape and color are all welcome at the Akashic Records, and all will find a place that fits them there. </p>
<p> So here was the diminutive Lennard Birtlen drifting out while the Troll Harmfirst was lumbering in, a potentially disastrous encounter, for the Lennard anyway. But just as Lennard Birtlen stepped off the top step, Harmfirst stepped on the bottom step, neither aware of the other. The library's middle steps, trying valiantly to accommodate both these extremes at once, went boing and knocked Harmfirst to the ground rendering him further senseless. This would seem both impossible and a validation of Lenfast's teachings wherein an innocent small person was saved from sure crunching under a giant's foot through some sort of divine intervention or something but it was not to be. In fact the step's boing did somehow increase Harmfirst's senselessness and it shot Lennard Birtlen into space where he achieved a near perfect low-earth orbit which, while perfect in its way, was not beneficial to the Lennard's well-being. On Thursdays and Sundays he can still be seen with binoculars but we are encouraged not to look, perhaps because the Lennard wore a dirty robe. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68070712021-11-12T10:53:22-07:002021-11-12T10:53:22-07:00Flocks - By Silver G<p> We follow the clouds the way nomads follow their herds. We're light færies who whisper to clouds, diaphanous spirits who keep the watery haze like herders would, like herders would their fluffy sheep. </p>
<p> It's said we need clouds to survive but in fact the clouds need us as much. We are the clouds and they are us. Mostly we drift and fly with the wind. Sometimes we can't be seen at all. Blue skies! we hear you say with smiles of comfortable joy but you don't know, you don't see that we are here yet, our gossamer vapors too distant, too widely spread for eyes to perceive but we are here, nonetheless. We are always here, pray it be so. </p>
<p> The wind shows us where we should gather, where in the world is calling, what channels to take but make no mistake for once in the while we steer our own course, sometimes to flow back, back facing the wind so that all are confused and vexed, perhaps to be rained upon, perhaps to see Father Sun. </p>
<p> Other times we pile one atop the other 'til off down below is the blackness of night and oh, the wind blows and oh, the wind calls for the hail stones to drop out, solid and piercing, for the boom and crackle of mighty gods 'midst buckets of rain in waving displays that whip past, grazing our looks, our smiles, our sense of completion 'til off we go quickly, off to the next calling, the winds say hurry it's this way or that. </p>
<p> And then we are passing, a mist on our trail, Father Sun set to casting rainbows for any to see, while the greening earth thrills to the great silent sounds, reaching for heaven, life in accord, separate together renewing again and again. And each time we sigh and sighing call out one more time, at least one more time. Send us a herding this time one more time. Once more for the rainfall, once more for the storm and once more to follow where the winds go. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/68070702021-11-12T10:52:33-07:002021-11-12T10:52:33-07:00Also - By Lillow G<p> In the meadow there's a song that is always playing and those that hear it often sing along. It is today the song of Autumn, a song of wet and chilly or the Sunshine Contraction Song. This is the song of slowing down and resting. It is a song of gestation for our Mother Gaia and she has our love and gratitude even though she seems ready to cast us off for her own preservation. Unless we can make massive changes. We knew better all along. In any case, today there's the meadow and Autumn leaves. </p>
<p> Ishmael was there already, having returned from the Shine with Ishytoo some time ago, and he and Holly were having tea when we arrived. Lorna and I'd had a wonderful Crow that morning, greeting and encouraging Father Sun, then we had tea at the manor with the witches. I wanted to start right away as soon as we got to the meadow. There'd been a disturbance in the aether around Bluff, that semi-existent home to the Witch's Council and other strange things. </p>
<p> “Hi Ishmael and Holly!” I said as we approached. “Is Ishytoo coming with us?” I asked Ishmael. </p>
<p> “Not today. He's working on the Light.” The Light is what Ishmael and Ishytoo shine whenever there's need, which seems to be a lot these days. It is magical and shines when Ishmael casts the spell, bringing love and hope. When Ishytoo 'works on the Light' it means he's practicing the spell. I nodded at this. It was a complicated spell to get to Bluff so I understood how much work was involved. </p>
<p> “Well, let’s get going then,” I said and soon we were underway. Ishmael and I on brooms and Lorna riding on Holly's back. We circled the meadow until I got the spell right, then we floated serenely onto Bluff. As soon as we landed, we began looking for the disturbance. I knew the Radio Galaxy was nearby but I was hoping it wasn't the problem. I didn't feel like messing with Ego. Bluff itself seemed about as peaceful as it ever does. More so actually since there was no kerfuffle going on. As we walked past the Witch's Council, approaching EATS, our favorite restaurant, I noticed a flicker in the aether. Seeing my look Ishmael looked up. </p>
<p> “Is that . . .?” he began. The aether starts to clear making the thing more visible. </p>
<p> “I think so Ishmael,” I answered with a grimace. “I think it's a Space Manifold Portal.” </p>
<p> Holly looked at it with round and worried eyes. “Doesn't that lead to the Arches of Chaos?” she asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah, it does,” I answered. </p>
<p> “What's it doing here?” Ishmael asked. </p>
<p> “I think that's what we need to find out,” I said. </p>
<p> We got into our exploration formation, with me on one side of Holly and Ishmael on the other, riding our brooms close in while Lorna rides on Holly's back. We developed this formation because Holly has the best flying spell I ever saw. The spell forms a bubble keeping air inside that constantly renews regardless of the conditions outside the bubble. It also keeps you dry and warm or cool, whatever may be necessary. Anyone keeping close enough stays inside this bubble, which is why Lorna rides on Holly's back and Ishmael and I stay close to her sides. In this formation we leave Bluff and fly toward the Space Manifold Portal. </p>
<p> As we approach it becomes clearer. It is roughly circular, perhaps ten meters across and inside is a chaotic seeming maelstrom of strange colors. I know it's not as bad as it looks but is rather a reflection of the Arches of Chaos that are on its other side. Holly lets me lead our formation and I steer us slowly, cautiously into its center. There is little turbulence despite the appearances and we are soon inside the great Space Manifolds. It is dark and gloomy and we can see the Arches of Chaos in the distance. </p>
<p> There are many portals here that are passages to distant places, even other galaxies, and when one enters and exits by portal, they are quite useful. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, most who come to the Manifolds do so via the Arches of Chaos. That's crazy. Seriously, it's crazy, chaotic and extremely off-putting. But now I knew because I could see, plainly see that the disturbance that'd been reported and that we were investigating was the result of extraordinary amounts of negative energy flowing through the Arches and being distributed by the Manifolds throughout the cosmos. This is bad. </p>
<p> Holly's flying spell takes us safely, miraculously you could say, through the Arches of Chaos and we arrive at a place that is almost too depressing to describe. It's a land of incredible wealth populated by poor and willfully ignorant slaves. It's leadership is corrupt from top to bottom, its environment collapsing in what should have been preventable problems. Mean-spirited greed and anger are the dominant forces that create huge homeless populations that are beyond hopeless. The super-wealthy further enrich themselves through endless wars while their machines take jobs away from the people who slavishly support their own demise, blaming their sad condition on minorities or some other country or just some other. Their taxes support a first class health-care system yet they themselves cannot afford it or even access it. Their news is propaganda and their supreme leader is a cheap con-man. They hate voting and they hate thinking about stuff because they literally worship stupidity. We were shocked to our core and made our way to some out of the way spot to consider what must be done to stop this negativity from walloping the rest of us. But everywhere, no matter how remote, was posted private property with keep out signs, keep out or else, but we finally found a spot that seemed safe and settled down. Hidden. We were glum. </p>
<p> “What can we do here?” Ishmael asked. “Do you think the Light would help?” </p>
<p> No one answered for a long moment, then Holly said, “I don't think this situation can be remedied.” </p>
<p> “Nor do I,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “A steady diet of Light magic begun a decade ago might have helped but these people are thoroughly oppressed and determined to keep it that way. A suicidal society with leaders bent on fleecing every drop of energy out of it before it all collapses.” </p>
<p> “Taking their environment with them,” Lorna added with a tragic look. </p>
<p> “The problem we face is that their negativity is poisoning everyone else,” Ishmael pointed out. “It's made worse in the Arches and distributed by the Manifolds so it's poisoning the entire galaxy.” </p>
<p> “Then it's containment?” I asked. I didn't feel good about saying this. It was the same solution we had arrived at to defeat Dredung, the well of evil magicks, whose power is domination and whose goal is the cessation of all life. Dredung is so powerful that entire countries can be consumed by it. I think it wants to grow until it can destroy planets. We contained it in our world using the magic wand Zingellawabic but it seems that same evil is recurring here. I don't guess it'll ever be totally contained since its seeds are fear, anger, hunger and animality, fairly common emotions for humans. Besides Zingellawabic is back on the farm along with Ishmael's Light. I could see by the other's expressions that they were just as unsure of this solution as I was. </p>
<p> “Perhaps we ought to get a good night's sleep and talk more about this in the morning?” Ishmael suggested. It was turning dusk and our hiding spot seemed safe and congenial so we agreed and settled down. </p>
<p> After sleeping on it I knew containment wasn't the answer and I think the others knew it as well. </p>
<p> “We have to change how this society functions,” I told the group. By their silence I knew they agreed and by their silence I also knew they had no idea how to accomplish this. </p>
<p> I thought of the people back there, willfully killing themselves and each other while their leader, a man named Drumf which didn't surprise me a bit since that was the same name Dredung used in our land. The name used when that evil had grown enough to menace everyone. It had already destroyed Joten when we arrived to confront that Drumf although that was a long process that was just culminating with the Drumf. Joten is the land of Trolls, Orcs and the ultimate source of the evilist rot, the Grimn Leapers. Those who blindly accept, who devoutly believe what they are told, despite the evidence of their eyes and ears. We destroyed that Drumf with Ishmael's Light. A giant infusion of Love, Light and Hope right into the middle of that Drumf's Troll factory where the lies, hate and division were created and, in the process, creating new Trolls. Then those Trolls would go out spreading fear, hate and lies, disrupting societies and planting the seeds of destruction. Including their own demise, along with whatever country nurtured them. Well, Ishmael's Light knocked old Dredung for a loop, out, we thought, but it came back, seemingly in no time, and we fought it back. Our final solution was containment. </p>
<p> “We need a new approach,” I said, realizing that I knew what needed doing. “We need to give them Love. Let Love come back to them. And respect for the marvel that is life.” I paused, feeling a little like some sort of preacher but also realizing that I didn't have the minutia of this grand design. I just had the overall vision. </p>
<p> “Give them love?” Holly asked looking confused. </p>
<p> “Capital L Love,” I tell her. </p>
<p> “But those people are hateful,” Ishmael stated. </p>
<p> “Look what they've done to their environment,” Lorna said with a sad look. “I almost want to see them fail, see their country collapse so that at least they'd stop hurting the earth.” </p>
<p> “And it was fear, hatred, and greed, that started it,” I said. Then added, “And the enforced divisions that made them that way based on class, color creed or whatever else they could come up with.” I was not at all sure where I was going with this. </p>
<p> “Those were systemic changes happening over a long time,” Ishmael pointed out. </p>
<p> “Yes, but what started them?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Greed,” we all said at once. </p>
<p> “How do we stop that?” Holly wondered, looking around quizzically. </p>
<p> “I dunno,” I answered, “but I believe it's a start. That realization.” I gazed around slowly, seeing their looks of uncomprehending interest. “Well,” I continued, “what is it that causes a person to want more than they need? What makes a hoarder? Because really, no matter how you look at it, a person who accumulates wealth is a hoarder.” </p>
<p> “Need,” Ismael said unconvincingly. </p>
<p> “Fear,” Lorna spoke decisively. “They've been taught that success is all that matters. Just look at the homeless people crowding their streets. Monstrous deprivation playing out right in front of them every day and getting worse. They're afraid of that. Of going homeless.” </p>
<p> “That's a fearsome thought alright,” Holly whispered with a sad look. </p>
<p> “But what of the fellow who builds an empire?” Ishmael asked. “Not because he wants to but because he's just so good at it, that everything he touches easily turns to gold, and in the process of doing what he loves best he employs hundreds, or even thousands. Thousands of families, wives, husbands, children, all relying on his continued success.” </p>
<p> “It's a thorny problem,” I murmur. </p>
<p> “I think it's the second generation that's the problem,” Lorna said. </p>
<p> “Huh? What'ya mean?” Ishmael asked. “You mean the kids? Something like that?” </p>
<p> “Could be something like that,” Lorna answered. “But I think it's pretty much whoever takes over after the wealth apparatus is put in place. You know, when the money machine is punching out the profits and the old man retires or dies.” </p>
<p> “Those children or executives would be riding the coattails of success,” Ishmael continued, “and if they didn't have their founder's flair and few do I think, coupled with the enormous responsibility of the welfare of hundreds or thousands, well, I could see how morality and ethics could be set aside.” Seeing our shocked expressions he continued. “For the greater good. You know, sell yourself to evil so that others could live. Why it'd be a self-sacrifice when you look at it that way.” </p>
<p> “That's ghastly,” I said, dismayed at how right it sounded. </p>
<p> “So it's greed fostered by fear,” Holly summed up. </p>
<p> “Well, there's more,” Ishmael added, “you know, like the charities and religions that jump on the money train forgetting good works entirely, or the investors that are so rich that richer is their only thought.” </p>
<p> “And politicians,” Lorna continued with a scowl. “Elected by the people but doing only the work of the highest bidder. Corruption that thrives on the lack of consequences these same corrupt politicians create for themselves.” </p>
<p> “A self-perpetuating cycle feeding on all it can,” I said, “which again brings us back to throwing out morality and ethics,” I look around. “Apparently an easy thing to do.” </p>
<p> “Especially when this corruption lifts you well past the fears of want, need, homelessness and despair,” Ishmael added with a frown. “Then it's just greed.” </p>
<p> We're all silent, wearing glum looks. </p>
<p> The next morning we have a plan. Using local materials along with knowledge and gold from the farm, where it has little value, we start a Love-Spell factory. These are not romance spells necessarily, rather they allow a burst of the joyful love we all have, or once had, in our innermost being. We cast these Love spells over and over imbuing whatever we can; rocks, seeds, coins, whatever with powerful Love spells that can uplift moods, brighten days and lets people see their own inner beauty and peace along with the natural beauty that surrounds us all. We spend a lot of time surreptitiously planting our little Love poppers. They may seem imperceptible at first, just a glimmer here and there, a little less glum perhaps but already while we were still there, they've managed to vote the horrid Drumf out of office. A new leader whose mind is on creating a just society that serves all its members as well as conserving and healing their environment has come to power. A weak power that relies on the people for its success. I hope we've begun healing the enormous fractures in this society. I smile with renewed hope and give my team a thumbs up as we surround Holly to mount up, so to speak, preparing to return through the Arches of Chaos and back to our own space through the Manifold. We look forward to a long rest in the calmness of the farm and her restorative meadow. We've had our fill of chaos, that's for sure, at least for now. </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/67772602021-10-15T12:46:48-07:002021-10-25T05:18:44-07:00Stupid Story, Part 1 - By Rosy<p> My children, two girls, Brakka and Jant, work at a farm outside of town. I've been to it, I think, but I'm unclear on what the farm actually does or what their work entails and, well I'm not even sure it exists, having heard differing reports along those lines. So you'd think I'd be worried sick and normally you'd be right. </p>
<p> Except I hear and see other things, like the obvious fact that both girls love their jobs and are eager to start each day. That they get paid each week in strange gold coins that the bankers readily pay large sums of money for, sums far beyond a week's wages at any job I'd ever heard of. I know they're both good girls and wouldn't do anything dishonest. </p>
<p> My girls are both of a marriageable age, Brakka being a year older than Jant yet they rarely pay any attention to suitors. One young man who took Brakka out a couple times had pointed ears, of that I'm sure, even though he tried to hide them under his strange hat. I think they're still seeing each other but curiously he doesn't come here anymore. Jant is just too flighty to take anything seriously and doesn't, that I can tell, have any suitors at all. </p>
<p> I should leave well enough alone, with things going so well, the girls happy as larks, our financial situation the best it's ever been but, well, I'm just curious, that's all. I mean no harm. </p>
<p> The first time I tried to follow them to the farm I, well I should tell you right off that I've been curious about that farm for some time now, from the beginning actually, and well, as I was saying, the first time started off fine with them in clear sight ahead and me far enough behind to remain unseen. It was brilliant and I remember smiling with pride as I made my way from one hidden spot to the next. They danced and laughed openly up the lane, never thinking to look back. I didn't think anything when they passed the giant old tree south of town where the path curves around upward. I hid while they went around the tree, watching intently for their reappearance so I could move behind the tree to follow. I watched and I kept watching but they never reappeared. They'd gone behind that tree and zappo, they were gone! I was totally freaked and would've called detectives from somewhere if they hadn't returned that evening, but they did, smiling and happy like nothing had ever happened. </p>
<p> The next time I got confused somehow, especially since they started off in a different direction, and, oh and it was cloudy, probably raining or at least misty, or foggy and then the wind blew so I got more confused and somehow, I ended up in the grocery store. I don't remember going in but I did remember some things we needed so I went shopping. The girls were back at their regular time that evening. </p>
<p> There were a few more incidents along these lines then, this last time, I was behind them like I do, watching closely then hiding and so on when suddenly I heard some giggling behind me, soft and furtive and I spun around to find my daughters watching me with unfeigned merriment. </p>
<p> Then Brakka, laughing, gestured for me to join them. They went to work even though I was with them. We went to a farm I'd never seen before and milked cows and threw hay. We fed chickens and mended fences. It was long, dreary day, sort of dreamy somehow and I was very glad to get home that evening. My husband (he had a similar experience when he demanded to see the farm) and I have never thought about their jobs again except I felt a little sorry for them with all that hard work. Now we're both content to be, well, content. Amazingly content. I wonder sometimes what the farm's called?</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/67772562021-10-15T12:43:36-07:002021-10-25T05:24:16-07:00The Space Patrol - By Rosy<p> I think you will find that a lot of people who don't know anything make up stuff, perhaps to compensate. You know, fill in the vast empty spaces where normal people put all the stuff they know. This following story may well be a classic example of this. </p>
<p> Captain Rivitir just told us there'd been signals of a mysterious type coming from the Juno Mission and that we were going to investigate. Our ship, the Dashem, was a class two Destroyer, recalled and modified to do secret spy work, then recalled and modified to just wander around and look at stuff. I liked our last incarnation the best and I think the rest of the crew did too, so this newest modification into investigators, which did morph nicely into a lot of our previous spy work gear I'll admit, still this investigating mission was not entirely welcome. In any case I am Steddy Gripp, the Chief Detective Investigator and Detective Sirius Whatly is my assistant. And we haven't gotten fat and lazy like they're saying on Mars. We just haven't had time to come in for physicals is all and now, well, we got investigating to do. </p>
<p> We set a course straight away to the Juno Mission which was, as we suspected, circling Jupiter. We knew there was a truck stop there, only for spaceships of course, (the old ways are strong in space. Many spacers wear cowboy hats and wide belt buckles, their belts loaded with weapons, their eyes narrow, their faces stern. Boots with spurs are also popular) so we headed for the Juno Mission dock. </p>
<p> Besides the docking bays and fuel pumps there was a restaurant, a motel, a casino, and several satellites of ill-repute at Juno Mission but no churches despite the name. All were transmitting their usual barrage of signals, things like radio, telephone, internet and so on, so that Juno Mission was surrounded by a cacophony of signals, like most outposts in space. Except now, at this spot, there were also mysterious unknown signals. </p>
<p> First thing we discovered was that the signals were made of smoke. Smoke signals were a method not employed in space before, that we knew of, and no one knew how to read them. Yes, these were mysterious, especially since there's no air in space for the smoke to float in or to even build a fire in. This whole thing was getting mysteriouser and mysteriouser. We landed at the mission to check it out firsthand, get gas and a bite to eat. </p>
<p> After we ate Captain Riviter and the crew returned to Dashem while D Whatly and I went to investigate. I asked Bob, the cook who was famous for his earth style hamburgers, well, I asked Bob did he know anything about any smoke signals? </p>
<p> “Smoke signals?” he answered, glancing nervously to the back. “Gosh no. I mean that's crazy right?” I suspected something and watched him carefully. D Whatly started poking around looking at the back room. “Well,” he muttered sullenly, “I guess Engine Horatio might have something going on out in the desert.” </p>
<p> “The desert?” I asked, realizing that things had just gotten more mysteriouser. “How is there desert in space?” </p>
<p> He looked warily surprised then, with a shrug, told us to follow as he strolled through the kitchen toward the back door, which was a screen door that opened revealing an endless expanse of dry brown wasteland. There were a few cacti and sagebrush growing but little else. The horizons seemed infinite. Bob stepped out and gazed out over the barren scene for a moment, searching, then he muttered, “Yep, there he is.” He pointed, “See 'im?” </p>
<p> I squinted in the direction he was pointing and finally I saw him. Barely visible, looked to be sitting. Then a puff of smoke rose above where he sat followed by three quick puffs then a pause. </p>
<p> “Again, I must ask, how is this possible? We're in space and the Juno Mission is just a supply station with very little room inside.” </p>
<p> “Well it's a secret for one. Like you shouldn't even be here,” he muttered, scowling, “But you're some sort of official or something so here we are. It's a dimensional thing, near as I can figure,” he answered with a shrug. As I turned back, I saw a highway running past the front with sleek, alien looking cars racing past. </p>
<p> “Where're they going?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Oh they're coming from the large coastal city. Or returning to it.” He gazed off in the distance. “Off thataway is our village with a modern casino and five star hotel if you're interested in staying a spell? Much nicer than the ones at Juno Mission Space Side.” I could see the distant structures now that I knew where to look. There appeared to be a silhouette that looked like a Ferris wheel. </p>
<p> “Not sure if we'll be staying,” I answered. </p>
<p> Bob nodded then added, “A few klicks the other side of our village is the Saturnalia gate to yet another dimension.” He paused, frowning. “Never been there though.” I turned back and looked at Engine Horatio and saw another puff of smoke rise up. </p>
<p> “What's he saying?” I asked, pointing to the smoke. </p>
<p> “Oh, that. Well, Engine Horatio runs an inter-dimensional advertising firm, Wejakkem Inc it's called. He's just sending our message out.” </p>
<p> “Your message?” I asked incredulously, looking closely at him. “And just what would your message be?” </p>
<p> “It's uh, oh you know, the usual.” </p>
<p> “What's it say?” </p>
<p> “Well if you can't read it, then it says, Eat Hamburgers at Juno Mission – Yumm.” </p>
<p> “It says Yumm?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, the whole thing's Eat Hamburgers . . .” </p>
<p> “Okay,” I interrupted, “we got that. It says Eat Hamburgers at Juno Mission – Yumm. Right?” </p>
<p> “Doesn't sound as good the way you say it,” Bob answered with a frown, “But yeah, that's the message. I'm famous for my earth style hamburgers, you know.” I could tell he was proud and let him continue. “We get our syntho-beef from Hoggsdale Ranch,” he pointed in the direction of the big coastal city, “with real synthetic longhorns and cowboys to herd 'em.” Then a bell rang. “Wupp! Gotta go, orders coming in.” He turned back to the screen door. “See how advertising pays off?” he asked with a smile before entering. </p>
<p> I looked at Whatly, “Well I guess we better go check this Engine Horatio guy out.” We began trudging across that barren desert. It was hot so we both removed our smart looking detective jackets and loosened our ties. After we'd walked a goodly way, I realized the distance was much greater than I'd imagined so I ordered a rest by a nearby rock overhang which offered some shade. </p>
<p> I pondered our next move as we rested, then sent Whatly back for water. I wasn't surprised when I tried to radio Captain Rivitir and couldn't get through but I was surprised when my radio crackled back on and a rather terse voice announced, “Listen, you are not licensed for inter-dimensional communications so why're you even trying? Please apply for permits at Village, number One Center and don't even think of trying again until you do.” Snap, and the signal was gone. </p>
<p> When Whatly returned we drank up then continued on toward Engine Horatio. I told him we'd lost communications with the ship and made a mental note to tell headquarters about those permits. I had a hunch we'd need 'em in the future. </p>
<p> It was dusk when we finally arrived at Engine Horatio. There was an Acme Smoke Message Machine churning out puffs of smoke in front of a log cabin with a thatched roof. Suddenly it was full dark and I watched, fascinated as the smoke balls rose up higher and higher until they were in the upper atmosphere and beyond, illuminated by the setting sun. Turning I saw lights inside the cabin so I knocked on the door. It was opened by a young girl with horns. She smiled brightly at us. </p>
<p> “Hello. I'm CDI Gripp and this is D Whatly of the earth ship Dashem, authorized by the Royal Earth Bosses, Department of Looking-At-Stuff. We're from the Space Coppers Division, so we're allowed to ask questions.” I wasn't sure if that was true or not as we showed our badges. She continued smiling brightly at us. “So, uh is anyone home?” I asked. </p>
<p> “”No,” she answered before slamming the door. Fortunately D Whatly's foot, that he'd cleverly snuck past the jamb, stopped it. He yelped in pain, the door being shut with great force and when the little girl saw the door still open and us looking in, she turned and ran. Whatly, barely limping, ran in hot pursuit. I saw her smile slyly back at him as she ran. I was suspicious so I stopped and examined the room carefully. It was clear we, well I now, was in the conning tower of an ancient submarine, perhaps from a big war somewhere. I knew I was being conned but I looked through the periscope, nonetheless. Sure enough, there I was under an endless ocean gazing at the amazing fishes and plants, seaweeds I'd say, and feeling the sway of the sub as the currents carried us away. </p>
<p> I yelled, “Up periscope!” Then I looked again. This time I could see the sea was just going on forever no matter how much I swiveled around. Every direction was endless sea. You don't expect this on a space patrol even if you are expecting the unexpected like they say to do. Now I yelled “Surface!” hoping the sub would do like I asked. I was quite pleased when it surfaced. I stepped out onto the dripping deck and searched the horizon, circling 360 degrees and seeing nothing. No place should be this empty I thought as I climbed back down into the sub. I supposed I ought to go find Whatly so I headed down the submarine's hallway in the direction I remembered him going last. I hope. </p>
<p> Suddenly there was a gut-wrenching crunch and the floor tilted. I fell against the wall and was alarmed to see water come splashing in. I rushed back to the conning tower and climbing out again was astonished to see the sub had crashed into a reef. There was a large tree-covered island beyond and I gasped in amazement. How could I have missed that? Then I saw two vaguely familiar figures on the beach waving at me but I couldn't make out who they were for sure. Slowly a big sucking noise was tilting the deck back and turning I was shocked to see the sub sinking beneath the waves. I immediately jumped ship and swam quickly, madly to shore where sturdy arms pulled me up. I was surprised to see it was D Whatly and the little horned girl as I stumbled ashore. </p>
<p> “I'm so glad you made it ma'am,” Whatly said, smiling and helping me along. I looked at the little horned girl walking beside us. “Yes Ma'am,” Whatly responded, seeing my look. “This here's Rotilda Wilda, the entry wizard for this passage.” </p>
<p> “I see,” I said, but I didn't, not really. “Nice to meet you, Rotilda,” I offered. </p>
<p> “Nice to meet you ma'am,” she responded. “Now if you are truly desirous of getting through this passage then you must do exactly what I say.” </p>
<p> Looking ahead I could see a luxury hotel, partly hidden by palm trees and flowering shrubs and we appeared to be heading toward it. </p>
<p> “This passage?” I asked. I was, in fact, quite confused. </p>
<p> “Yes ma'am. You and Whatly are stuck in a Non-Denominational Trans-Dimensional Shift Organizer. Frankly it's not going well, not going well at all in fact so I have brought you to a sanctuary where you can rest before I direct you back to your proper time and location.” </p>
<p> “What?” I uttered foolishly. </p>
<p> “You're in the wrong place and I'm to put you right,” she finished, leading us into the hotel lobby where several young men rushed up to help us. Soon I was tucked in and quickly fell asleep. I was more tired than I thought. </p>
<p> When I woke up D Whatly was sitting beside me and Rotilda Wilda was standing by the window watching us. </p>
<p> “What's going on?” I whispered to Whatly. </p>
<p> “Ah, there you are ma'am,” he answered, looking pointedly at Rotilda. </p>
<p> I looked at Rotilda. “Get up,” was all she said, so I got up, and finding myself clothed, I put on my smart looking detective jacket. Then Whatly, similarly attired, and I followed Rotilda out of the room and out of the hotel where a taxi awaited us on the front lawn. “Get in,” Rotilda ordered. She conferred briefly with the driver as we got in and as soon as our door closed, we were off. The taxi turned out to be a spaceship and soon we were back at the Dashem where we reported to Captain Rivitir, after she paid our fare. </p>
<p> “Our case is solved,” I began proudly. “The mysterious signals are smoke signals that advertise for this restaurant.” I pointed at the Juno Mission. “They say 'Eat Hamburgers at Juno Mission – Yumm'” </p>
<p> “It says yumm at the end?” Captain Rivitir asked with a sour look. </p>
<p> “Yes ma'am,” I answered. “And the signals, created by Engine Horatio, CEO of Wejakkem Inc enter space from another dimension, causing them to endure much longer than anyone would imagine.” She scowled. “Oh, and we need to look into getting some inter-dimensional communication permits. I have a hunch they'll be useful in the future.” </p>
<p> She nodded. “Good work detectives. I'll pass this on to headquarters with your recommendations. Now we can get back to looking at stuff like we should be doing.” </p>
<p> And how to avoid physicals, Whatly and I both added to ourselves of course. </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/67432142021-09-11T10:16:46-07:002021-10-25T05:03:54-07:00A Famous Story - By Rosy<p> “Do you need a list?” Captain Rivitir asked as I gazed apprehensively at the control panel in front of me. Must be a hundred gauges, switches, and dials, I thought. </p>
<p> “Uh, a list?” I muttered trying to decipher what I was seeing. </p>
<p> “Yeah, you know, a list of all this stuff and what it means,” she answered waving casually at the control panel. </p>
<p> I looked at her, “Well, uh if that's okay. Yeah, yeah, I would. I mean I know most of it, no problem,” I lied, nodding reassuringly, “but there is some stuff here that I'm not too sure about.” I was trying to appear knowledgeable, seasoned as they say, give the impression that I was a competent and well-trained co-pilot who would already know that panel inside and out and more but in fact I was in way over my head and I knew it. </p>
<p> “No problem,” she shrugged, and with a smile handed me the pamphlet she was holding. “Everybody needs a refresher when it comes to these old rigs,” she stated, walking away. Then she stopped and turned, “Oh, and if you're feeling in over your head, don't worry, you are.” Continuing on she whispered, “We all are.” I wasn't sure if I was meant to hear that last part or not. I saw the navigator giving me a worried look as I opened the pamphlet. </p>
<p> I was able to gain a working knowledge of my job with that very useful pamphlet. I could tell that several hands had already thumbed through it and I paid extra attention to the sections that someone had underlined or circled. This was a top secret mission I was told, national security and strictly need to know, so I wanted to give a good showing despite my inexperience. I wondered why they'd chosen this old airplane. And me. </p>
<p> “Here we go!” Captain Rivitir yelled above the engine noise which suddenly became much louder. Then we were taxiing down the runway. All my gauges seemed fine and I settled back. This is actually pretty cool, I thought as we became airborne and began our ascent. What a view from up here! I was thrilled until one of my gauges crawled up into the red. I quickly thumbed through the pamphlet until I found it. The passage was underlined and I recalled its urgency as I found and flipped the switches it assured me must be flipped. Nothing happened for a few heart wrenching moments then slowly, wonderfully, the gauge settled back into its proper position. I glanced over at Captain Rivitir who smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I blushed, nodding with a weak smile as I returned the thumbs up. </p>
<p> My only experience was flying a little single engine antique around the towns the Blarney Bailey Circus was visiting, flying a banner with Blarney Bailey Circus! emblazoned on it. It's pretty hard to fly that rickety old crate with a giant banner dragging along behind. Dimitri, one of the Flying Dangle Brothers, would set the banner firmly between two poles where I could swoop down and hook onto it. He'd make sure the banner wasn't tangled as I took to the skies. </p>
<p> Since it was my plane, inherited from my Uncle Flete who used to do crop dusting, they were glad to pay me without checking my license or anything, which was good because I didn't have one. Always meant to do the studying and flight hours and get one but I never did and they just assumed, since I had a plane and all, that I had one, and well, here I am, where I could just fly and no one questioned anything. I also did odd jobs around the circus, helping pitch tents and set up bleachers, that sort of thing. I worked ticket booths most evenings. I thought I was good for another decade or so until a black government vehicle pulled up. </p>
<p> I was parking my plane after flying circles for the last couple hours, and I watched the vehicle warily. Two men in dark suits got out and began strolling toward me, easy, unconcerned. They both wore dark glasses and before I even noticed they were on either side firmly gripping my arms and walking me toward their vehicle. </p>
<p> “Ma'am, you need to come with us and it'd be better if you didn't make any resistance,” one of them hissed as they pulled me along. </p>
<p> “Wait! What . . .?” I sputtered </p>
<p> “National Security,” the other barked. </p>
<p> Then I was in the back seat beside one man as the other got behind the wheel and hurried us away. Neither spoke, despite my demands for answers, as we sped to an airport where I was put on a giant, I mean bigger than what you're imagining now, way bigger, airplane with four huge propeller engines mounted on the wings. </p>
<p> I'm helping drive that plane right now. Co-pilot. I've found the pamphlet given to me by Captain Rivitir to be very helpful and I was even beginning to feel optimistic until the navigator handed out three large tan envelopes marked TOP SECRET in bright red letters, one to each of us. I opened mine and read. </p>
<p>TOP SECRET for Lillow G and no one else, or else! </p>
<p>Lillow! You are the co-pilot on a secret mission and you have no idea what you are doing. That's perfect. No one does. Captain Rivitir is actually the skipper of a tugboat and Rokkie Maikdue, your navigator, is a taxi driver in a large city. Listen: No one knows what they are doing. The reason is because you are going to fly through the Arches of Chaos, something no capable, reasoning pilot and crew could ever hope to accomplish. Your current chaos is just what's called for. You'll make it through, pretty sure. Once on the other side you'll be inside the Space Manifolds. One is plugged so you need to unplug it then return here. The Universe depends on you! Good Luck! </p>
<p> The navigator looked at me, “Wow. So you're the only one who's ever actually flown before.” I looked back unable to speak. </p>
<p> “Explains why you picked it up so quick,” Captain Rivitir said, beaming at me. </p>
<p> We kept our current course, each of us checking our pamphlets from time to time. Soon we entered the Arches of Chaos, sooner than we expected, though we really didn't know it at the time, and all my gauges started spinning or bouncing around. I noticed our tail was now in front and loud claxons began blaring from all sides. I opened my pamphlet but only found the funny pages, in color. I looked over and watched as Captain Rivitir pulled the overhead horn again and again, emitting an enormous foghorn bellow each time that was barely heard over the claxons. Now the entire cockpit was flashing red, blue, and green and screaming was heard from somewhere far off. The tail was no longer in front, rather we were spinning madly, tilting back and forth, and shaking. Suddenly everything stopped and we sat in silence, except for the navigator who took a moment longer to stop screaming. </p>
<p> We were staring into blackness but not starry blackness, just blackness. Then we slowly began to make out massive portals in the gloom leading to who knows where. Very dim but we could see one of the portals was blocked with something. </p>
<p> Captain Rivitir steered us over to it. Steering was easy, almost like a car, but stopping was not. Captain Rivitir was frantically flipping through her pamphlet when we bumped right into that big thing that was blocking the portal. We stuck there for a moment then, with a massive, slow, sucking whoosh it fell through and the portal was open. Captain Riviter dropped the pamphlet and pulled the steering wheel hard right and held it. We circled around and returned to the Arches of Chaos, something we were used to so we slipped through easily, I think. </p>
<p> When we got back, we splashed down in a big lake since none of us knew how to land big planes. The plane was so big it floated and soon we were picked up. We're national heroes, as I'm sure you already know. Saved the Universe. </p>
<p> What? You didn't know? Surely, you've heard of Rokkie Maikdue, famous explorer? Really? So how about Lillow G, the daredevil pilot? Gosh. Well, you've certainly heard of Rosy the Riviter, huh? Remember the 'We Can Do It' posters back in the 40s? You know them. Yeah, that's right, that Rosy! So there you go, a famous story. </p>
<p>-Rosy </p>
<p> Relish The Thought </p>
<p> Stanford Yurofome was the leader of the pack, near as anyone could tell. He was a strange guy anyway, very strange but this was too much. Whenever they, Stan's pack that is, would come screaming out of the blue and raze another part of the realm, dropping gigantic pickles like bombs, everyone, especially our meager law community, would search the sky carefully trying to determine just who was riding with Stan, himself identifiable by his flaming red hair that billowed above like a cloud, and, even more pressing, they'd try to figure out where the pack came from or to where it was going. Yet despite careful observation by these professionals as well as the copious scrutinizing of the hoi polloi, no one has yet been able to determine either location, or even any of the other members of the pack. </p>
<p> That's when I was called in. I'm SDCI Whatley, assigned to the Weird, Odd or Shocking Investigative Division of the Elvenstead Lawkeepers. We've had Yurofome in our sights for quite some time now since his shocking red hair was hard to miss. We, WOSHI as we're known, didn't like the guy, not sure why, we just didn't, not one of us, so when we heard he was leading a pack of pickle bombers we weren't surprised. </p>
<p> Detective Inspector Hare Standfast, who along with Detective Seedy Grimmsee and myself comprised the entire division. D Standfast accompanied me on my initial investigation while Seedy stayed behind at our secret spot to provide back-up. A recent attack on Kattsop, a village nearby, was where we'd begin. We'd be able to investigate the aftermath of a high speed pickle bombardment firsthand, a prospect we did not relish but knew we had to do. </p>
<p> We marched forcefully into the main square which had taken the brunt of the attack. Pickle remains were strewn everywhere and the village's mayor, Mayor Hattrack, was standing in the midst of it shaking his fist at the sky and pronouncing various curses upon Stan's pack. </p>
<p> I interrupted his rant, “Hello! Mayor?” </p>
<p> He stopped and looked at me, “Yes. Who're you?” I could easily tell he was in a bad mood. </p>
<p> “I'm SDCI Whatley and this is DI Standfast come to investigate this hideous crime.” </p>
<p> “About time!” he barked. “Stan must be stopped!” </p>
<p> We nodded a somber agreement. “So you saw this attack?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah, through my office window,” he pointed up at some broad windows overlooking the square. “It was horrible, that pack swooping down at super-fast speed then the shwack, shwack, shwack of giant pickles hitting and exploding.” He looked at me with a horrified expression. “Blendin, over there sweeping,” he pointed at a nearby sweeper, “was out here, right here in the square when it happened and he seen it all.” </p>
<p> I nodded curtly at the mayor, “Don't leave town,” I told him as we turned and approached Blendin. </p>
<p> “Mister Blendin?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Yes, ma'am,” he answered, “Blendin Runjump, Towne Sweeper. You investigating this bombing?” </p>
<p> “Yes, we are Mister uh, Runjump. I was told you saw it, that you were right out here when it happened. What'dya see?” </p>
<p> “Yessum, I was. Din't see much,” he said with a frown. “I was doing like I'm doing now only then it was leaves and stuff and now . . .” he pushed a pile of pickle remains forward, “well, you see what it is now.” I nodded. “Well, I was sweeping when I heard this loud squealing noise and suddenly, quicker than you'd think, really a lot quicker, they came screaming over, flying low and fast with the eerie, siren wail of pickle bombs falling, making awful splats all around.” </p>
<p> “It must have been horrible,” DI Standfast murmured. </p>
<p> “Yessir and uh, ma'am, it was. Horrible!” </p>
<p> “Which way did they go?” I asked calmly. </p>
<p> “Dunno,” he answered with a confused look. “Thought it was thataway,” he pointed, “then I saw something flying way off over thataway,” he pointed in the opposite direction, “so I just ent sure.” He shrugged. </p>
<p> “Hmmm,” I thought, thinking. “Let us know if you remember anything else. Let's go Standfast. Nothing else to find here.” We returned to our cubby in city hall, next to the newsstand where we've received millions of handy tips and suggestions. I'd given Moredom, the proprietor, a secret signal in case he ever got something I should know about and I looked over, discreetly making eye contact. </p>
<p> “Hey detective!” he yelled, apparently forgetting our secret signal. “I gotta clue!” I gestured him to be quiet and wait until I could come around to the side. “Yeah,” he continued loudly, “I gotta clue about your pickle bombing case.” </p>
<p> “Be quiet!” I hissed from the side. “Now what you got?” </p>
<p> Finally realizing the need for discretion he whispered, “This guy come around, couldn't see him too clear through his crazy red hair, anyway he said, 'You tell that detective to look for a ring.'” </p>
<p> “Huh?” I said. </p>
<p> “That's just what I said,” he said smiling proudly, “Same exact word.” </p>
<p> “Yeah,” I said with a scowl, “so what'd he say?” </p>
<p> “Nuttin. He was just gone.” I started to speak and he cut me off, “Din't see where. He was gone too quick, quicker 'an you'd think.” </p>
<p> I nodded thanks. Back in our cubby I asked Standfast what he thought Moredom had meant by 'look for a ring,' but he had no ideas. We sat glumly. </p>
<p> Then D Grimmsee spoke, “Say, I been thinking, boss,” I raised my eyebrows. “Well, I thought maybe a map of the attacks might help. You know, show us where they been happening.” </p>
<p> I shrugged, “Why not. We got no other clues.” </p>
<p> We pinned a big map of the area to our cubby wall and began methodically plotting the spots where the attacks had occurred. It took some time but when we were done, we backed up to look. Slowly what we were seeing became clear and we all gasped. The attacks were in a giant circle. A huge 'ring'! </p>
<p> “I think we've found the ring,” I said, “but now what?” </p>
<p> “Dunno,” D Grimmsee muttered, staring at the map. </p>
<p> “Say, what's that in the center?” DI Standfast asked. “Look there. See?” </p>
<p> We all bent over to see, and there, right in the center was written in small letters, 'Stan's Pickles.' Well we hustled right on over and when we got there, staring at this big pickle factory, we were attacked by Stan's Pack, a full on pickle attack. We ran for cover inside and found the factory was empty, deserted. Shocked and dismayed we returned to our cubby. </p>
<p> “Couldn't tell a thing about the attack, could you?” I asked. </p>
<p> “No ma'am, they was too fast,” D Grimmsee moaned, wiping pickle juice off his new suit. The one that his wife, Tamolly bought him to celebrate his promotion to detective. It was a big deal and he looked good in it. Very professional. Except for the pickle stain. And the smell. I felt bad for him. </p>
<p> DI Standfast had an idea, a crazy idea but an idea nonetheless, and we sure didn't have anything else. He said, “Maybe a big net? Something with fine netting so's you can't see it, but strong, you know?” I was noncommittal but Grimmsee nodded, like it was maybe okay. “If we put a couple up high,” he continued, “both north and west then we'd be sure to nab 'em, either coming or going.” Grimmsee and I both thought he was probably nuts but we didn't say it and since we didn't have a better plan we went ahead and did it. We put up them big nets in the villages that hadn't been hit yet, then we sat back and waited. </p>
<p> Sure enough, we nabbed the miscreants the very next day, just like I said we would. They got tangled in a net right as they were attacking and we got 'em all. Turns out they were aliens from outer space, and everyone of 'em had shocking big red hair. That's how you can tell 'em. We rounded 'em up and threw them in jail for a hundred years or more. They hoped to conquer us with vicious pickle attacks but we were too smart and thwarted their evil scheme. We sure never thought we'd end up saving the earth from an alien invasion. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/67116912021-08-09T18:18:00-07:002023-03-24T01:10:13-07:00Aggy, Part Two - The Return of the Witches - By Rosy<p>Eight </p>
<p> The River Goddess has destroyed Teleron's castle but Teleron himself is missing. The slaves began escaping when the castle started to collapse and when the last of them crossed the drawbridge the rest of the castle collapsed with most of it crumbling into the river. Spike and the goats were speechless with awe at what they'd seen but the Elves seemed pleased, like they weren't greatly surprised at this denouement. Many were rushing over to help the slaves. Somehow the rubble had ignited about fifteen minutes after the collapse and was now a raging inferno. Many of the slaves had left already, anxious to return to their homes, but a sizable group still remained, watching the flames consume their late prison. There was no sign, not a trace, of Teleron and it was believed he'd perished in his castle along with his apprentice Glar and the six minions who had stood by his side through it all, keeping the evil enterprise going. </p>
<p> “No loss there,” people muttered as the gossip circulated. </p>
<p> Spike, Brak and Jant made their way to the group of remaining ex-slaves and began checking faces, looking for Ishyate and Elvisher. It took a while and Spike was getting frantic by the time they finally found them, sitting in the shade of the forest, completely ignoring the fire while talking to a couple of women. It was clear they were all ex-slaves by their dirty, unkept appearance and their sallow faces, especially the women's. </p>
<p> Ishyate and Elvisher's faces lit up at the sight of Spike and the goats and they jumped up to hug each other while the two women sat and watched, smiling at their friends' joy. </p>
<p> “Oh golly, sweet Robin are we glad to see you!” Spike gushed, unable to control his relief and joy. He kept wagging his tail too hard, disappearing then reappearing a couple meters away. Brak finally came over and sat on that wagging tail to keep Spike in one place. </p>
<p> Ishyate gestured at the women, “Hey guys, this is Lagretta and Magnella, friends we met while inside.” </p>
<p> Elvisher smiled in agreement and added, “Even though they've been here much longer than us they came and offered us whatever aid and assistance they could.” The women smiled but said nothing. </p>
<p> “Thank you,” Spike said, “Thank you so much! These two are dear friends.” Brak and Jant nodded their concurrence. Spike continued, “I don't suppose anyone knows anything about an Agitha Gladstar, reported to be here . . .” </p>
<p> Lagretta and Magnella both sat up with smiles, “We do!” </p>
<p> “Is she here now?” Spike asked feeling a surge of excitement. </p>
<p> “No,” Lagretta answered. “She's been gone for a long time now. No one knows how or where but she musta done it with magic.” </p>
<p> “That so,” said Spike. “So she's a . . .?” The women squirmed but did not answer. “Witch maybe? Sorceress?” he prompted. </p>
<p> “Dunno,” Lagretta answered looking down. </p>
<p> “She could just do lots of stuff,” Magnella interjected, “sometimes we couldn't tell how she did it but that was okay, I mean . . .” </p>
<p> “She knows tons of things, things you never heard of,” Lagretta said forcefully. Spike could see that both the women admired and looked up to Agitha. </p>
<p> “How long ago did she . . . uh, leave?” Spike asked. </p>
<p> “Hmm, what, a week ago?” Lagretta answered looking inquiringly at Magnella. </p>
<p> “Yeah, but now I think on it, maybe more like three or four days ago,” Magnella offered. </p>
<p> “That's not a long time,” Brak muttered. </p>
<p> “It is here, or was, blessed be,” Lagretta said. Her gaze clouded with anger and loss as she turned toward the now smoldering ruins. “Few lasted more'n a month, some a couple but I never heard of anybody lasting longer. Me and Maggie been here 28 days.” Spike was shocked. They both looked emaciated like they'd been prisoners for years. </p>
<p> The group of ex-slaves was dwindling rapidly. Many were meeting arriving friends and family, some wandered off in groups of two or three. But no one came for Lagretta and Magnella. </p>
<p> “You guys got a place to go?” Spike asked them. </p>
<p> With a worried glance at each other they both shook their heads no. </p>
<p> “Well, we don't either. Our place is quite a ways south of here so maybe we should all camp together tonight?” </p>
<p> They found a nice spot by Columbia's River about a klick south of the ruins and settled in. </p>
<p>Nine </p>
<p> Father Sun was just past his zenith when their camp was fully set up. They spent the rest of that afternoon in leisure pursuits, talking or sitting by Columbia's River, enjoying the peace. With food and water Lagretta and Magnella or Gretta and Maggie as they asked to be called, were already looking much better. </p>
<p> Spike and his fellows talked more with Gretta and Maggie, trying to discover more about Agitha Gladstar. Apparently, she and another woman named Hortense disappeared one night without leaving a single clue. Gretta and Maggie finally admitted that they were sure Agitha, or Aggy as they called her, had used magic to escape mostly because she'd been teaching them magic but also because of how impossible it was to break out at night. </p>
<p> “It was darn lucky the Goddess came during the day because at night we'd have all been locked in,” Gretta remarked. </p>
<p> “I'll bet that's why she did it, came in the morning like that,” Elvisher said. </p>
<p> “Yeah, I agree. She wanted to spare the innocents,” Ishyate added. </p>
<p> “What kind of work did you guys do in that place?” Spike asked. </p>
<p> “We built armored vehicles with mounted cannon,” Gretta answered. “First we forged the metal from ore that was delivered every week, then we bolted and welded sections of that metal to make large cars where the driver and a couple others could hide inside and be totally protected from the outside warfare.” </p>
<p> “They brought in large engines from the mythical lands,” Maggie continued, “powerful engines that could move the cars through most anything,” Maggie scowled. “and those cannons mounted on the cars can shoot balls of iron a great distance causing untold violence and mayhem.” </p>
<p> “That's what me and Maggie did,” Gretta said shaking her head, “was make cannon balls. Eleron prepared magic powders that touched to a flame would explode and cause the ball to hurtle through the air.” </p>
<p> “How many of these cars were made?” Spike asked. </p>
<p> “I dunno,” Maggie answered looking at Gretta who shrugged. “I do know there were two downstairs mostly finished and one completely finished because I was working on them when the Goddess attacked,” she finished. </p>
<p> “Downstairs?” Spike asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah, there was a basement where the finishing work was done. Very secret. I had a hunch that people who worked down there would disappear after they were done so I was especially glad that the attack happened when it did,” Maggie replied. </p>
<p> “I was engaged in packing the magic powder into tubes at the time,” Gretta explained, “I'm not sure what the tubes would do but they seemed like they could be missiles. I'm sure it was this magic powder that caused the castle to burn. The stuff is very flammable and I'd heard of other workers getting burned or even killed by accidents with it.” </p>
<p> That night they were awakened a couple times by distant roaring that was still loud enough to shake the ground. The first time it happened Spike jumped up and ran to the campfire. Elvisher and Maggie were already there looking off to the north. </p>
<p> “What was that?” Spike asked. </p>
<p> “Dragons,” Maggie answered with a grim look. “We're not too far from a Thrym Dragon hold. We heard them occasionally in our cells at night, but they seem a lot louder now. ” </p>
<p> “Thrym Dragon?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, the most terrible and vicious of the dragons. Eleron kept them away somehow and now with him gone I fear they might show up.” </p>
<p> Spike looked to the north, “I'd sure like to just bolt south except we haven't found Agitha yet.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, that's the problem all right. And we don't have a clue as to her whereabouts,” Elvisher said. </p>
<p> That morning they managed to scrape together a meager breakfast from their three remaining backpacks. </p>
<p> “Any ideas about where we should go from here?” Spike asked the group. “Where could Agitha be?” </p>
<p> “Well, I've been thinking,” Maggie spoke up. “There was something Aggy said the day before she disappeared.” This got everyone's attention. </p>
<p> “What'd she say?” Ishyate prompted. </p>
<p>Ten </p>
<p> Maggie remembers something that Agitha Gladstar said just before she disappeared from the fortress. </p>
<p> “She said the last Grandmother had passed and that was a very big reason why she hadda get out of there now. We heard all kinds of sad stories in there and I didn't think much of it at the time.” </p>
<p> “I sure felt something when she said it, though,” Gretta added, “Like it was my own Grandmother. Gave me chills.” </p>
<p> Spike thought of Oxxy and how she'd disappeared, just collapsed leaving nothing but her clothes. “There was a witch who passed recently on the farm but her name was Moran, not Gladstar,” he said. </p>
<p> “Moran! That's my name,” Gretta blurted. “I'm Lagretta Moran.” </p>
<p> “Wow! That's amazing. Oxxy Moran was an ancient witch, one of the last I thought, who with three others, ruled Gladstar farm.” </p>
<p> “I'm probably related to an ancient witch!” Gretta crowed. “Really! Because like how many Moran's are there? Not many, I'm thinking, and the few that are have to be related. Have to. There just aren't enough to not be. </p>
<p> Everyone gaped at her. Spike wasn't one who believed in coincidences. He spoke, gazing curiously at her, “Well, once, long ago, there was a witch named Lillow Gladstar who was, I thought, the last of the Gladstars, but that was long ago and long before I heard of Agitha. I mean I was truly surprised to hear there was still a Gladstar, unbeknownst to us. Wow. So now, here she is, a new Gladstar to run the farm if we can find her. And it was Oxxy, the ancient witch that told us to find her and bring her back.” Everyone was watching and listening with rapt attention. “And the curious part is her name was Moran, just like Gretta's. Now, looking for the last Gladstar at Oxxy's bidding we find her possible descendant.” There was silence, as Spike looked around. He seemed to remember Oxxy mentioning something about others. Well, this might be what she meant. He continued, “There were four witches back then, Lillow Gladstar, Oxxy Moran, Laura Mercy and Rosy Rivitir.” He stopped when Maggie gasped. </p>
<p> “My name's Mercy. Magnella Mercy. And I'm pretty sure Tenner's name is Rivitir.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, I remember, she told us, “Gretta spoke up, “Hortense Rivitir she said, claiming it was an old and distinguished name.” </p>
<p> “She told me her Great something-Grandma was a witch but I didn't pay no never mind,” Maggie said. “I mean everybody wants to be related to a witch nowadays.” </p>
<p> Spike was too shocked to speak. He'd started off not believing in coincidences but this was beyond the possibility of coincidence. Could these four women be descendants of the original four witches? Are they the 'others' that Oxxy spoke of? </p>
<p> Spike sat down feeling dazed and was comforted to see Ishyate also sitting with a totally dazed look. “I am the eighth Ishy after Ishmael.” Ishyate muttered. He looked at Gretta and Maggie with wonder. “I love the old stories, old history, you know? But now, somehow, it's like the old stories are happening again, like history might just be repeating cycles that slowly become something new while keeping something old.” He looked at Spike who could only look back with wide, uncomprehending eyes. </p>
<p> “So we just need to find Agitha and, what was it? Hortense?” Elvisher asked, breaking their revery. </p>
<p> “That's how it looks,” Spike answered, looking around and feeling relieved somehow. “Well, what do you guys think?” he asked the group. “Maybe Maggie and Gretta should come back to the farm with us after we find Agitha and Hortense?” </p>
<p> “Yes, absolutely,” Ishyate said. “And when we find Agitha and Hortense the farm will be complete again.” </p>
<p> Brak and Jant both brayed agreement. Spike was oddly relieved at the thought of someone else taking charge of the farm. </p>
<p> Maggie and Gretta smiled and accepted. They hadn't mentioned to anyone that they'd both lost husbands at the fortress and were now homeless so this seemed a wonderful good fortune. </p>
<p>Eleven </p>
<p> Father Sun was well into the morning and well into curious observation as well, for he too wondered where Agitha Gladstar and Hortense Riviter had disappeared to. The engine of his discovery was the very band led by the bulldog Spike. Depending on who you ask, Ishyate and Elvisher are either co-leaders or seconds in command. In any case it was decided that two groups would form, one, consisting of Spike, Brak and Gretta, was to explore northward while the other, consisting of Ishyate, Elvisher, Jant and Maggie, was to explore southward, all in search of Agitha and Hortense. </p>
<p> “Look for any sign, any clue, anything that could lead us to Agitha and Hortense,” Spike directed the group, “I have a feeling they're close by,” he finished. They divided into their two groups, agreeing to meet at that spot again before dusk became dark. </p>
<p> Spike's group headed north and were soon back at the fortress ruins, only they didn't find any ruins. What they did find was a small hillock covered with flowers of every color and shape. A couple small trees grew near the top where birds sang and butterflies flew. They stood gaping in astonishment at the rare beauty before them where but two days earlier lay the burned-out, smoking ruins of an evil fortress. They approached the hillock slowly, almost fearfully, despite or perhaps because of its beguiling beauty and were soon enveloped in a cloud of floral scents and passions that were in every way as enticing as their flowery source. </p>
<p> “Okay, everybody back away,” Spike ordered loudly, backing up. “This is a flower spell and it can hypnotize you.” </p>
<p> Everyone backed beyond the scents and their overpowering visuals and huddled under some nearby trees. “Something strange here, and dangerous too,” Spike growled, looking back at the hillock. “Somehow the flowers can pull you in until you are mesmerized and lost to their desire. I've seen this before with Lillow many, many years ago.” </p>
<p> “The first witch? Gretta asked, reverently. </p>
<p> “No, the last, we thought,” he answered, looking back at the hillock. </p>
<p> “So what's the flowers' desire?” Brak asked, looking nervously at the hillock. </p>
<p> “Food usually,” Spike answered, watching the flowers intently, for they were all facing them, as if watching them. He couldn't recall if they'd been facing them before when they'd arrived but he sort of thought they hadn't been. </p>
<p> “Food?” Brak and Gretta moaned in unison. </p>
<p> “Usually,” Spike answered, keeping his eyes on the flowers. “But these guys seem interested in something else.” He watched for a moment more then gestured them to follow further back into the forest where he found a spot where they could observe the hillock without the hillock observing them if that's what it was actually doing. As they watched from their hidden glen the flowers slowly turned away until only those directly in front of them stayed watching. A three hundred and sixty degree look-out Spike thought with admiration. But a look-out for who, or what? As they watched two women opened a door that was magically hidden in the flowers and emerged, quickly running toward the river. </p>
<p> “Hey! That's them! That's Aggy and Tenner!” Maggie yelped jumping up and screaming “Aggy! Tenner!” as loud as she could but Aggy and Tenner didn't hear her as they dove into the river. They watched in wonder as the women didn't surface, not even bubbles burbling up. Then the ground began to vibrate and an immense yet distant grumbling could be heard. </p>
<p> “What's that?” Brak asked with a worried look. </p>
<p> “Dunno,” Spike answered with the same worried look. </p>
<p> The sound grew louder as the ground shook more fiercely. Spike was having trouble standing and sat as Gretta had already done. Brak skittered about staying upright and braying loudly. When the sound and shaking had reached a peak the side of the hillock collapsed as a huge, armored vehicle with a large cannon poking out the front pushed through, smoking and grumbling. </p>
<p>Twelve </p>
<p> While the sky darkened with the clouds of an impending rainstorm Spike, Brak and Gretta watched, horrified, as an armored vehicle, clanking and smoking, drove to the path and headed east. They knew a fork lay ahead with its northern way leading to the Elven kingdom Elvenstead and the southern way leading to Gladstar Farm. </p>
<p> “Should we follow that thing?” Brak asked. </p>
<p> Just then there was giant crack and Spike twirled around expecting to see smoke from the cannon's end but instead was buffeted by a strong gust of wind followed by a torrential downpour. They ran to the shelter of some thick trees but even there they were soon drenched. The sky grew darker and darker, interspersed with a series of bright flashes as lightning streaked earthward followed quickly by booming cracks and crackles. What a spectacle did Mother Earth provide that day, so much so that it rained long after in grudging respect. It was an early, cloud-besotted dusk that greeted their wet and shaken return to their campsite headquarters. They had a roaring fire going in short order and were drying themselves in front of it when the other group returned. </p>
<p> “Nothing going on in the south as far as we could tell,” Ishyate stated walking up to the fire. They'd found a little better shelter during the storm but were still wet and soon everyone was circled around the fire, staying close even when the smoke blew their way. </p>
<p> “Thought we heard one of them slave trains in the distance during the rain but that couldn't be right, could it?” Elvisher asked. “I mean that was a serious downpour, no troop of chained slaves could have walked through it.” He stopped on seeing Spike and Gretta's expression. “What? How?” was all he could muster. </p>
<p> “It was an armored car with enormous power that easily traversed that storm, by what we could see anyway, clacking and clanking like the very monster it is and carrying within a person or persons unknown whose intentions are also unknown but likely unfriendly,” Spike told him. </p>
<p> “The darn thing busted right out'a the side of the fortress wreckage, which was somehow just a sweet, flower covered hillock when we got there,” Gretta continued. </p>
<p> “It was one of the cars we worked on, wasn't it Gretta?” Maggie asked. </p>
<p> Gretta looked down then looked up into her friend's eyes and slowly nodded yes. “I'm pretty sure it was the car we'd finished,” she whispered. </p>
<p> “After that heavy rain I doubt we could follow its tracks,” Elvisher said. </p>
<p> Everyone was silent, absorbing all they'd heard. Then Spike said, “Another thing that happened is that just before that car busted out of the hillock two women who Gretta says were Agitha and Hortense, came rushing out a hidden door and ducked into the river before anyone could stop them.” </p>
<p> Maggie looked at Gretta, “It was them? You sure, in that darkening sky and all? It was Aggie and Tenner?” </p>
<p> Gretta looked stricken, “I think so Maggie. I was sure at the time but I've sorta gotten doubts since.” </p>
<p> “What doubts?” Maggie asked fiercely. “I mean you either saw them or you didn't.” </p>
<p> “Well they was a long way off and it was darkening, like you mentioned, but yeah, okay, it was them.” </p>
<p> “You sure?” </p>
<p> Gretta nodded glumly. </p>
<p> “Why the face?” Maggie asked. </p>
<p> “They never came up Maggie. They dived in and just stayed under, never came up that we could see.” </p>
<p> They were all silent and solemn as they huddled and dried around that fire until night's somnolent embrace sent them off to sleep. During the so-called wee hours a black silhouette, like a large dragon might make, glided gracefully across the sky, visible only when it blocked the starlight. No one of the group saw it, even Elvisher who was the guard at that hour, for despite having not fallen asleep, he simply hadn't looked up at the right time. </p>
<p> They were all up before Father Sun's golden caresses cleared the horizon, eager to get on with their search. </p>
<p> “Today we must also find food, as our provisions are nearing depletion,” Spike told them. </p>
<p> “Got it, food and Agitha,” Ishyate agreed. “So how do we start? I don't think search parties are doing any good. There are food markets as you near Elvenstead but I don't think that's going in the right direction.” He paused. “You see, it's becoming abundantly clear to me that our real job is finding and stopping that armored car, further, I think there's ample evidence that the car went south.” </p>
<p> “But that's the direction of Gladstar Farm!” Brak interjected. </p>
<p> “We're all aware of the southern road's route, thank you,” Spike said, feeling a little agitated that nothing was working as it should. <br> “I think Ishyate is right,” Elvisher spoke up, “I think if we find that car, we'll find whoever's behind all this plus I think that somehow that's where we'll also find Agitha and Hortense, likely there for the same reason we are.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thirteen </p>
<p> Spike was unable to argue against Ishyate and Elvisher's reasons for going south, especially since he had no plan of his own. He could see too, that their arguments had merit. Clearly, they must hasten south to prevent the car's arrival at Gladstar farm, and that would be a cause that would surely attract Agitha, if she's still around. </p>
<p> “Alright people!” Spike barked, suddenly conscious of urgency, “Lets head out! We need to make haste.” He marched down the road as his company scrambled to follow. They marched in a generally eastward direction until they came to the crossroad. Spike glanced north knowing the Elvenstead food marts, considered the best in the world, were near, well fairly near. He knew that Elvenstead had more food marts than any other city in all of Fæirie Land. His mouth watered and he was certain he could smell their heavenly scents, yet he valiantly held true to their cause and stalwartly led his band south. </p>
<p> After an hour or maybe two they heard a commotion over the next rise. There was loud clanking and clacking, similar but not quite like the slave trains. Sort of like the armored car moving with a new clanking like something hitting something metal followed by a loud boom, a time of silence then repeated. Having developed something of a cautious nature they crept as close as the could and, hopefully without being seen, peered over the top. Below, mired in a pool of mud and rocks up to its middle, sat the armored car, unable to move as the repeated spinning of its wheels proved. Spike wondered why the car's driver or helpers didn't get out and clear the rubble, when his question was answered. Carefully the car's hatch on top slowly opened, showing no sign of the occupants, then suddenly a group of three, humans or Elf he couldn't tell, appeared quickly from the forest, and threw rocks, as big as they could handle down on the car whose hatch promptly shut. Spike watched in amazement as the cannon swiveled around, aiming at the spot where the group stood then letting loose a tremendous boom firing a cannon ball at them. Except they weren't there anymore and the cannon ball plowed a fair sized crater in their place, tossing dirt and debris quite a ways. Then there was silence. It seemed to Spike that the silences were getting longer. </p>
<p> Finally a woman's voice, commanding and fierce rang out. “Surrender Teleron and we will spare your life. Continue and you die!” Spike could see the speaker was not too far from where they hid so when the cannon swiveled around, he ordered a hasty retreat. They were running when the cannon ball hit behind them, knocking them off their feet and spraying them with debris. </p>
<p> Spike looked back and saw the woman jumping fearlessly across the recently excavated crater. She smiled at him as she neared, “Spike, I believe. Late of Gladstar farm if I'm not mistaken?” she looked at Spike with questioning eyes. He nodded a wary yes. Grinning wide she announced, “I'm Agitha Gladstar.” Another woman appeared out of the woods as yet another group appeared across the gully, tossing a rocky barrage downward then watching as the cannon swiveled their way. There was a loud boom and a cloud of smoke which, when it cleared showed another sizable crater and no sign of the rock-throwing group. </p>
<p> The new woman shook her head at the blast behind her and smiled at Agitha before turning and scrutinizing Spike's group. “This is them, huh?” </p>
<p> “Yep'” Agitha answered. “That's Spike and that's Ishyate,” she said pointing at each. “Not sure about these others but I'd say they're farmers for sure.” </p>
<p> The group agreed readily to this assessment as Gretta and Maggie stepped forward. Agitha grinned in surprised wonder, “Hot dang here's my girls! I was worried you wouldn't make it but I shoulda known better, huh? Tenner, just like I told you, here's Maggie and Gretta, it'll be the four witches again.” </p>
<p> There was a clank and Teleron's angry scream rang out behind them, “I'll never surrender!” </p>
<p> “He's finally out of cannons,” Agitha said with a grim smile. “Time to end this madness.” </p>
<p> They watched as a huge cloud of smoke came billowing out of the gully followed by a solid thonk, like an arrow hitting its mark. When the smoke cleared a minion lay slumped over in the hatch with an arrow in his chest. No sign, not a hint, footprint, nothing was found of Teleron who Agitha and the Wood Elves had clearly seen had been there. They destroyed the car, making sure it would never terrorize anyone again. Eleron, if he persists, will surely be tomorrow's problem, Spike thought ruefully, joining his band behind the farm's hereditary witches, Aggie, Tenner, Maggie, and Gretta. The magic is back, his mind and soul sang</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/66850622021-07-11T16:31:36-07:002021-09-06T05:22:35-07:00Aggy Searching for Witches: Part one - By Rosy<p>One </p>
<p> There's a meadow at the beginning. A meadow of timeless endurance, that nobly endows the life of ideas that burble up from the cosmic quantum that lies beneath. These cosmic quantum ideas or cosquanti as we came to know them, are processed by four witches in a castle that has itself chosen to remain a cosquanti and is therefore not manifest at all in the corporeal world. This is something of a problem since the witches are in fact manifest. Their solution was the meadow, of course. And the meadow does indeed fulfill this need, gladly displaying its cosquanti core as cows, loons, and many other strange entities, (Cows and loons are stranger than one would think) while maintaining a tenuous grip on some sort of reality. </p>
<p> This creation also has curious physical features such as a castle known simply as the manor, a large red barn on its southern border called since antiquity Holly's Palatial Estate and a magical path between which also continues around, circling the entire compound. It takes a day or a year to follow that trail around, yet many have done it. </p>
<p> In the southwest corner, apart yet a part, is a swamp called by the superstitious peasantry, the Swamp of Doom, giving it a somewhat dismal cast. Yet Father Sun shines there as well, despite the onerous swamp gases and vapors. It is also believed by this superstitious peasantry that dinosaurs roam the swamp. </p>
<p> Another group of superstitious peasants, our four creative witches in fact, call that odious swamp Silvia's Place after an ancient witch that once ruled there. Bad witch, or so it is believed In any case all the superstitious peasants avoid it. </p>
<p> Today the ancient witches still rule though you'd hardly know it while the meadow has long been the demesne of a dog. A peculiar dog, a bulldog in fact, a bulldog named Spike. Spike is universally recognized as the lord of the meadow mainly because of his endurance. He's a really long time resident who's always been there as far as anyone can tell. </p>
<p> Over the years, and they've been vast, it is said, Spike acquired some super powers. He could fly. He could see through walls, kind of. Thing is he was so strong that if he couldn't for some unfathomable reason see through those darn walls then he'd push them down. But despite his stories of longevity and strength his actual observable age, according to the oldest fauna, was still several decades, at least. It has been whispered that he's actually hundreds of years old and drinks the blood of tourists who stumble onto the farm but hardly anybody believes that. Now the crazy part; he's as spry and quick as a dog of, well . . . as a dog quite a bit younger, possibly several hundreds of years younger. Plus there's his superpowers. That part's crazy too. </p>
<p> The superstitious peasantry publicly deny his vast age despite the prevalent evidence but do accept he could fly since everybody saw him do it pretty much every day. That's convincing. </p>
<p> It was a new day and Spike began as usual by making his rounds. First, he looked up at the manor. Dark, silent, gloomy, spooky. Check. Then he toured the meadow proper, eyeing its flora. Green and lush with lots of flowers. There's the two goats, Brak and Jant, on duty, keeping it all neat and trim. Check. Next, he marched into Holly's Palatial Estate, glancing briefly into the large room with stalls where everyone slept. It looked fine. Upward he could see bats hanging in the dark places above the rafters while squirrels and mice scurried back and forth beneath. In the loft he could see the great ape Ishyate storing a bundle of hay while Elvenglock, an Elf resident, wheeled another in from the pulley up front. Check. </p>
<p> Elvenglock saw him and waved, and Ishyate seeing Elvenglock waving looked down and waved too. Spike sat down and, grinning up at them, began wagging his tail. I have not yet mentioned this superpower. When Spike wags his tail rapidly one of two known things could happen. One, there could appear from out of nowhere a person or thing or maybe a creature. Two, Spike could disappear and reappear somewhere else. It was the latter today and he popped instantly onto the loft. </p>
<p> “Hey guys, how's it going?” </p>
<p> Ishyate wiped his brow. “Excellent Spike, and you?” </p>
<p> Just then Elvenglock arrived and leaning against his wagon, smiled, and nodded, “Hey Spike! Wassup?” </p>
<p> “Nothing much, guys. Everything's fine,” Spike answered with a serene look. “Yessir, just fine.” </p>
<p> Then one of the goats started braying loudly below and Spike looked over, “Hey, what's wrong Brak?” </p>
<p> Looking up Brak answered, “Oh, there you are Spike!” He seemed upset. “Something has come for you!” He was skittering around, not holding still and looking out at the meadow with worried and frightened eyes. </p>
<p>Two </p>
<p> Spike felt a stab of fear with Brak's announcement. 'Something?' What, what, what? Was all he could think but there were no answers here. Ishyate and Elvenglock were staring at him with wide eyes and fearful expressions. Below Brak was hiding behind the door peering surreptitiously out. He walked over to the steps and walked calmly down. He did not fly or teleport. When he got to the bottom, he walked quietly up behind Brak and looked nervously out into the meadow. At first, he could see nothing untoward, then he saw Jant crouching in the bushes. Then he saw the thing. Like a shadow, though not as big as you'd think, not physically anyway, still, and ominous, standing, waiting, a black shape with a black pointed hat and green face. The meadow was deathly still and there seemed to be a cloud directly overhead. Spike reared back and gasped. He knew who this was. It was Oxxy, one of the ancient witches. With eyes wide, he stepped slowly out the door. He stood staring for a long moment then proceeded cautiously, slowly, step by step, watching Oxxy closely. When he was close enough, he stopped. </p>
<p> “Hey Oxxy. Long time no see,” Spike said quietly. </p>
<p> There was no response, but Spike knew not to rush things. He sat down and began wagging his tail but not too fast. </p>
<p> Finally, in a whisper Oxxy murmured, “It is good to see you Spike. You are looking hale and hearty, that is good. Sugfissel's magic is strong.” </p>
<p> She was referring to the multi-dimensional being, Sugfissel, from whom Spike is, purportedly, an appendage. In Sugfissel's dimension time is different, so different in fact the Spike does not appear to age, at least he hasn't for the last three hundred or so years. </p>
<p> “Nice to see you too Oxxy. So what brings you out this way?” Spike was nervous having someone more powerful and with higher authority facing him. It didn't help that she cast an ominous image either. Brak was still hidden and peering cautiously from inside the Estate and Jant was staying behind the bushes. </p>
<p> After another long pause she spoke, “The others have left and I am ready to go.” </p>
<p> “Huh? What?” Spike said with a sinking feeling. </p>
<p> She gazed at Spike with a curious expression then continued, “In the north is a wizard, the great grandson of the fabled Treywiz.” She spoke with shaky determination. Spike had known Treywiz of old and listened attentively. </p>
<p> “His name is Teleron and I've heard he's evil, betraying his heritage. With him is another, another whose name . . .” </p>
<p> Spike listened carefully. He wasn't sure why the legendary Oxxy was here telling him these things, but he listened closely, nonetheless. He waited for her to continue but the silence stretched out. </p>
<p> Spike began wagging his tail again. Then he cleared his throat. With a worried look he whispered, “Uh, Teleron ?” It seemed as if Oxxy's dreamy eyes suddenly focused on him. </p>
<p> “To the north . . .” she began. “Agitha . . .” Then with a shudder and visible effort she continued, “To the north with Teleron is Agitha,” Pause. “Gladstar.” </p>
<p> “Yes?” Spike asked. He knew that name for it was the hereditary line that ruled this meadow and its environs, known since antiquity as Gladstar Farm. The three witches, who apparently have left or at least two of them with the third about to follow, have ruled for the last few hundred years and now it would seem there was an opening. “So uh, this Agitha?” Spike ventured. </p>
<p> “The last Gladstar,” Oxxy muttered weakly. “Tell her. Bring her here, bring her home Spike, bring her and the others home.” She stopped and took a couple deep breaths. “Tell her the farm needs her.” With that the black robe and hat collapsed in a pile in front of Spike. Clearly Oxxy was more than ready to go, she was gone. Spike gaped in shock then backed up until he bumped into Brak. </p>
<p>Three </p>
<p> The visitation caused quite a stir among the fauna not to mention Spike who paced and fretted the rest of that otherwise beautiful day. </p>
<p> “What should I do?” he asked Brak who was munching on some grass, just doing his job. </p>
<p> Brak looked up and answered, “Braaak!” </p>
<p> Just the sort of thing you'd expect from a goat, especially from a goat named Brak, Spike thought angrily as he walked away. He'd pretty much asked everyone so far and so far; he'd gotten no advice. No one knew what to do, but it did seem like the farm ought to have a commander they'd murmur. Someone to watch Spike if nothing else but no one actually said that part out loud. Spike barely slept that night and when he finally did, he had an unsettling dream, a dream of himself going north. He was startled awake and could not get back to sleep. </p>
<p> When rosy colored dawn arrived Spike resolved, after gut wrenching deliberation, to ignore this horrid intrusion, this ridiculous go north commandment. Go north indeed! he fumed. Why that could be anywhere! North is big! He had no idea who this Teleron was nor this Agitha person but, well, he thought with a pang of disquiet, he did know the name Gladstar. He glanced across the meadow at the manor which curiously now seemed empty, somehow enormously empty and he began pacing. I can run this place just fine by myself, he thought. We don't need someone lying about that manor acting all dark and mysterious and not even giving us a sign that there's anyone there at all! We don't need 'em, I got this covered! Now he was grimacing and glaring at the manor. </p>
<p> “Are you okay?” Jant asked softly from behind him. </p>
<p> Spike jumped then turned around feeling oddly guilty. “Uh, well yes. Yes, I'm fine. How're you Jant? And Brak. How is Brak? The meadow looks marvelous by the way, perfectly marvelous and I'm just fine and everything is fine.” </p>
<p> Jant looked at him curiously with her head tilted, “You don't seem fine.” </p>
<p> “I'm absolutely fine I tell you,” Spike said muffling his confused anger. </p>
<p> “Oh. Okay then. Well I just wanted to let you know we're ready.” </p>
<p> Spike's eyes went round, “Ready?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, you know, to go north. Me and Brak got some nifty packs and Ishyate has an old but reliable pack. Elvisher said he wants to go too. We've already got a good store of provisions set up and . . .” she stopped at seeing Spike's look of distress. “Are you sure you're okay?” she asked. </p>
<p> “Huh? Oh, uh yeah, I mean yes, yes, I'm okay. Uh, set up, are you? Say, who said anything about going north?” </p>
<p> “Why it was Oxxy. You remember, right here in the . . .” </p>
<p> “Yeah, yeah, I remember. Sort of. You have to admit it wasn't all that clear. I mean how do you just go north? Right? That's a mighty big place, north, and I thought maybe we should, you know, maybe it'd be good if we waited to see . . .” </p>
<p> “I thought she was pretty clear,” Jant said giving Spike a suspicious look. “She said, plain as day, and we all heard it, well, me and Brak but we told Ishyate and Elvenglock right after, about how she said go north. Get Agitha Gladstar she said.” Jant seemed a little angry now and Spike backed up. He felt cornered, trapped. “look, we found a pack to fit you,” she held up a pack that he hadn't noticed her holding before. Then he noticed that she was wearing a pack. </p>
<p> “Well gosh,” he said nervously. “So, uh maybe we could leave in the morning, you know, get an even earlier start than this,” he waved at Father Sun who was barely risen. “Fresh start, that's what I . . .” he stopped when he saw Brak, along with Ishyate and Elvisher, emerging from the Estate with full backpacks and walking sticks. They were laughing about something and Spike eyed them with disbelief. </p>
<p> “Hey buddy, ready for a walk?” Ishyate called out as they neared. Spike just nodded, smiling weakly. </p>
<p>Four </p>
<p> Ishyate had a compass and after careful consideration he pointed, “North's thataway.” </p>
<p> Brak and Jant's friend, Normin, a mountain goat who, along with his family, agreed to watch the meadow while they were away and stood to the side watching with great interest. He cheered as they filed past and some of the fauna joined in. </p>
<p> “See ya Normin!” Brak called as they passed. Spike brought up the rear and the cheering died off. Spike stuck his tongue out as he followed the others and Normin looked shocked. </p>
<p> They continued across the meadow passing between the manor and the Golly Orchard, then on past the Darnalong Stump where the Hallway to Forever started. Soon they arrived at the upper perimeter trail which they crossed then on past the ancient Sentinels standing tall and proud still. Once past these guardians they would be in wilderness and Spike went into high alert. He hadn't been off the farm in, well . . . he stopped and sat down. Why it's been . . . </p>
<p> “Catch up Spike!” Ishyate called back. Spike jumped and hurried to catch up. He couldn't remember when he'd been off the farm last and that bothered him. He'd grown increasingly fearful of the outside world over the last few hundred years despite his superpowers. With a jolt he realized he didn't know if he'd have his superpowers off the farm. The farm was very magical and he was sure living there had contributed to attaining those powers especially considering how long he'd lived there. Had to have some effect. </p>
<p> They found a path going northward and started following it. After going a goodly way they came to a rest area by a pond in a forest grove. The spot was beautiful and peaceful and they all settled down quickly with sighs of relief and joy at their surroundings. Brak and Jant immediately started munching on the grass while Ishyate and Elvisher had sandwiches. Spike found some biscuits in his pack, a perennial favorite and settled down contentedly. </p>
<p> “I think we're making good time,” Ishyate opined. </p>
<p> “I wonder if this path goes to Teleron's place?” Elvisher asked. </p>
<p> “Well, at least it's going north,” Ishyate replied with a smile. “I'm sure we'll find someone along the way who can give us directions.” He was enjoying taking charge of Spike's mission as much as Spike was hating it. Spike kept quiet though because he knew that if he was leading, he'd do just as Ishyate is doing. That part was galling too. But the big ape was impressive strutting at the head of our procession he thought glumly. </p>
<p> Just then there was a clamoring down the road that seemed headed their way. Spike and Elvisher jumped up and ran over to look. </p>
<p> “What's that?” Elvisher asked. </p>
<p> “I dunno but I can tell you this, it doesn't look good.” </p>
<p> At this they all hurried over to see. Soon it became clear that a procession of armed weasels were leading a covered palanquin regally along. Behind, somewhat hidden and creating the majority of the clamor they'd heard were a string of slaves chained together, followed by a wagon being pulled by a worn looking horse. </p>
<p> “I don't like the look of this,” Spike yelled, grabbing his pack. “Run!” </p>
<p> “Oh, I don't know,” Ishyate pronounced. “Looks like a government official, a sheriff probably, leading a string of criminals. Curious that Elves would work with weasels though,” he rubbed his chin. “Anyway maybe they can tell us how to get to Teleron's place.” </p>
<p> Meanwhile Spike was running willy-nilly into the forest followed by Brak and Jant who stayed with him as best they could. They'd gone for quite a way before the clamoring died down. They've stopped, Spike thought as he ran. When he'd gone far enough to where he couldn't hear any clamoring anymore, he slowed, trotting for a bit then stopping. Soon Jant appeared looking round worriedly. </p>
<p> “Over here!” Spike called quietly from where he'd hidden behind a pile of rocks. When she got there, he hissed, “Keep quiet. Where's Brak?” She looked at him with wide eyes and shook her head no. “I hope he makes it,” Spike whispered. “And I hope Ishyate is right, that they are just government officials.” He scowled. “But I kind of don't think so. From the moment I saw those weasels, armed to the teeth, I had a bad feeling about that caravan.” </p>
<p> “What're we gonna do?” Jant whispered. </p>
<p> “We wait. It's all we can do.” </p>
<p>Five </p>
<p> It was quite a while later when Spike and Jant heard someone approaching. They kept hidden and silent until they heard Brak calling loudly, “Jant! Spike! Where are you?” Spike peered intently over the rocks making sure Brak wasn't being forced to call them before answering. </p>
<p> “Brak?” he called softly, still not showing himself. Jant was peering over now and watching closely. Brak stiffened when he heard Spike but looked in the other direction. </p>
<p> “Spike! Is that you?” Brak asked in an odd tone. </p>
<p> Then Spike saw a weasel sneaking around behind Brak and facing away from them. He snuck over behind and using a rock he'd picked up he whacked the weasel in the head. Then staying hidden he watched. Sure enough another weasel appeared on the other side, this time facing them. He picked up the crossbow from the weasel he'd whacked and taking careful aim he shot. Thwack! Right into the weasels chest. </p>
<p> “Just two?” he whispered loudly at Brak who was grinning widely. </p>
<p> “You got them both?” Brak asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah, two of them. Is that all?” Spike answered. </p>
<p> “That's all. Just two,” Brak replied, looking over to where Spike and Jant were hiding. Jant ran out and hugged Brak as Spike stood grinning and watching. </p>
<p> “What about the others?” Spike asked. </p>
<p> “The weasels got 'em” Brak said with a grimace. “They're chained with the other slaves now. They're waiting, hoping to find us I think.” </p>
<p> Then they heard the clamoring start up again in earnest, moving slowly away. </p>
<p> “Or maybe not,” Brak said with a grim look. </p>
<p> They took all the weapons from the dead weasels then headed north, cross country. They were super wary now, listening for even the slightest hint of suspicious movement yet they made fairly good time. Both the goats and the bulldog could move pretty quickly through forest without making much noise. Soon they could hear the raucous clamoring of the weasel pirates as they led their plunder further north, running parallel to them about hundred meters away. They slowed and kept pace with the pirates. They knew that at the very first chance they must try and rescue Ishyate and Elvisher. </p>
<p> Somber eyed dusk crept in yet the march continued on, then continued through the dark starry night. The trail turned west around midnight and they in turn. As golden dawn came alight with Father Sun's imminent arising, they arrived at a large fortress with several tall smokestacks that were belching black smoke into an otherwise pristine sky. The fortress was on a bluff high above a mighty river that was somehow made muddy with greenish oily slicks flowing downstream. The appearance was sooty, dark, and forbidding. Spike, Brak and Jant watched from a hidden spot in the forest as the weasels led their living booty, clacking and clanking across the drawbridge into the castle. At the end of the procession they could make out Ishyate and Elvisher chained and marching with the others. They retreated back into the woods a couple klicks until they found a hidden spot where they could rest. Weary from their all night march they were soon asleep. </p>
<p> Father Sun was at his highest when something awakened Spike. He wasn't sure what and looked around. They were nestled in a rocky overhang with a lot of shrubbery in front, enough to make their space an enclosure. Brak and Jant were still asleep and everything seemed fine, except something woke Spike up. He sniffed the air and listened closely. Nothing untoward. He'd just made the decision to slip out and check the area, see what if anything were going on, when the shrubs at their entryway parted and a head peered in. </p>
<p> He grabbed a weasel sword and demanded, “Who is it? Don't come in here!” Then he flashed the sword back and forth. </p>
<p> “What's this?” a voice attached to the head asked in accusatory tones. “Weasels, is it? Well, we'll see about that!” Then a longer sword thrust into the cave barely missing Spike. Brak and Jant, awakened by the voices were scrambling backward further into the cave. </p>
<p>Six </p>
<p> The sword of the outsider flashed by Spike then pulled back. </p>
<p> “I'll not tolerate weasels here especially not of Teleron's ilk.” The sword thrust again, even closer. </p>
<p> “Wait!” Spike yelled. “We're not weasels! Stop please!” </p>
<p> The sword, which had drawn back preparatory to a third thrust, stopped. </p>
<p> “What say you?” the voice asked cautiously. </p>
<p> “We're not weasels. In fact we're hiding from the weasels.” </p>
<p> “If that is true then step out.” </p>
<p> Spike cautiously stuck his head out. A forest Elf stood watching him warily and holding a long sword above. Spike stepped all the way out, “See? Not a weasel.” </p>
<p> “But a dog nonetheless,” the Elf declared, “Good heavens fellow what has happened to your nose? Did Teleron do that?” Spike's flat nose, common to his breed, was apparently unknown in these parts. </p>
<p> “No, I'm okay,” Spike answered, “it's just my type.” </p>
<p> “Why're you hiding? Who's with you? Are the weasel's after you?” the Elf asked in quick succession, while looking around nervously and brandishing his sword. </p>
<p> “It's just me and my two friends. Brak, Jant come on out,” Spike answered calmly, hoping to appease the Elf. “I don't think the weasel's are after us but they got two of our friends and we're here hoping to rescue them.” </p>
<p> “Yeah? What's yer plan?” the Elf demanded. </p>
<p> Brak and Jant were out now and glancing around sheepishly. Perhaps goatishly would be more accurate and they watched through round eyes. </p>
<p> “We haven't got one,” Spike admitted. “We only just got here early this morning.” </p>
<p> “That a fact?” The Elf eyed them distastefully. “You always carry weasel swords?” </p>
<p> “Uh, no. We took these off a couple weasels who came looking for us after our friends got caught. That was yesterday. We been tailing 'em ever since and now we hadda chance to rest. So here we are.” </p>
<p> The Elf continued to regard them with suspicion. “Elfend, what do you think?” he asked. Spike saw a movement and realized that another Elf had been standing behind the first. He'd blended so completely into the forest that he was only visible when he moved. Spike gasped and he heard yelps from Brak and Jant. </p>
<p> “They seem a sorry lot to take on Teleron,” Elfend answered. </p>
<p> “A sorry lot indeed, yet they are filled with determination.” The first Elf paused. “I think they might be useful to our cause.” There was a stirring in the woods and a rustling between the branches and suddenly there were a dozen or so armed Elves visible and watching them. </p>
<p> “What is your cause?” Spike asked looking around nervously. </p>
<p> “We are dedicated to defeating the evil Teleron and removing his weasel scourge from our land.” </p>
<p> “Well, we're definitely against the weasels and this Teleron guy too if he's controlling them,” Spike said, “We want to get our friends back from the fortress and it's the weasels that snatched 'em.” Spike was speaking forcefully now, angry at what the weasels had done and were still doing. </p>
<p> “Well said!” the first Elf laughed. “I think we could use your fighting spirit. My name is Elvenjoy and these” he gestured at the now visible group, “are the Elvinheim Rangers, come seeking entry into Teleron's lair that we may bring an end to his reign of terror.” </p>
<p> Realizing that this was probably the only chance they'd have to free Ishyate and Elvisher, Spike glanced hopefully back at Brak and Jant, who were both nodding yes, then turned back. “In that case we would be honored to join your noble cause Elvenjoy, for we too are oppressed by these vile creatures and would fight to bring their end. I'm Spike and these are Brak and Jant.” </p>
<p> “Well met!” Elvenjoy raised his arm in greeting. “Join us tonight.” </p>
<p> There was a cheer, then Elvenjoy led the band into the woods with Spike and the two goats joining them. </p>
<p>Seven </p>
<p> Elvenjoy led his band, which now included Spike, Brak and Jant, further into the forest and farther away from the castle where Ishyate and Elvisher were imprisoned. They traveled about an hour before they came to an Elf village nestled in the trees after the fashion of Elves. </p>
<p> “Behold fair Elvinheim!” Elvenjoy announced with obvious pride even though a person could barely tell there was anything there. “Rangers dismissed!” he barked and the other Elves left for their homes. “You guys come with me and I'll show you the guest quarters,” he said to Spike, Brak and Jant. “Tomorrow we meet to plan strategy.” He left them in a barn like structure, one of the few on the ground, with a lot of hay on the floor. They stretched out gratefully and were soon asleep. </p>
<p> They were awakened by a huge booming noise coming from the mighty river. </p>
<p> “Whoa! What is that?” Spoke yelped, jumping up. He ran outside with Brak and Jant to see what was going on and he could tell right off that the Elves were just as startled and confused as they were. The Elves higher up in the trees were exclaiming loudly and alarmingly about what they were seeing. Spike and the goats could see nothing from the ground but they could sure hear the huge booming, rhythmic thump, thump, thump like a giant drum. The ground seemed to reverberate with the force of it. </p>
<p> “She's heading for the fortress!” someone yelled as they ran by toward the fortress. </p>
<p> Spike looked at Brak and Jant with confusion. The Elves were pretty much all running toward the fortress so he asked, “Maybe we should go see what's happening at the fortress? Maybe we'll see a way to rescue Ishyate and Elvisher. Maybe rescue more, who knows?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, I think we should,” Brak said, joining the running Elves. “And these guys know the way,” he added over his shoulder. Spike and Jant began running, joining the excited crowd. As soon as they entered the clearing around the fortress they stopped and gaped in amazement. There, standing in the middle of the mighty river stood an angry hundred meter tall woman holding a long spear. </p>
<p> “Teleron!” she screamed in rage. “Teleron this is Mother Columbia and this poisoning must stop and it must stop now!” She stepped closer to the fortress. “Teleron you coward! Get out here and answer my demand!” She raised her spear and with a swoop knocked one of the bellowing smokestacks over. </p>
<p> Teleron appeared in a high turret holding a staff. He appeared calm, unfazed by the giant woman and the toppled stack. He lifted the staff and lightning flashed from its end hitting the giant woman. She smiled and the lightning bolts instantly changed direction and flew back at Teleron who barely avoided getting hit. </p>
<p> “Stop this smoke! Stop this pollution!” Mother Columbia demanded. </p>
<p> “Never!” Teleron screamed, then he aimed the staff again and a red beam flashed out instantly cutting or slicing anything it hit except the giant. Again she smiled and the red beam twisted around, going right at Teleron whose eyes got round. His bravado knocked back; the beam stopped before hitting him. Now he looked troubled. “Who are you? How do you do that?” he yelled out to the giant. </p>
<p> “Teleron, you damn fool! I'm a Goddess and this is my river. And this,” she pointed at the billowing smoke, “must stop now!” She pointed at the water and a spout shot upward then arced over and into the chimney as two more spouts followed suit making a loud sizzling noise that was quickly drenched in water. Even the broken stack was filled with water. Then she threw her spear at the opening where the pollution came out into the river. It crashed into the pipe with a mighty roar and the rocks above came tumbling down, then half the castle, weighted with water, began crumbling downward. Slaves were running out the front as fast as they could while the back of the castle collapsed and fell slowly into the river, effectively blocking the pollution. Then, with an angry glare she yelled in a voice of thunder, “Teleron you are warned. Do not provoke me again.” With this she stomped back up the river with thunderous booming steps until she blended into and became the river again.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/66529502021-06-08T10:35:52-07:002022-05-24T00:03:04-07:00Cranch - By Rosy R.<p>1. A road is found. </p>
<p> Alone in a spaceship. How did this happen? Entom looked around. Must be someone about, has to be, he thought. And just what is this spaceship anyway? These and other questions were on Entom's mind as he gazed helplessly out the window. The window of an apparent spaceship showing infinite space beyond. He sat down in what appeared to be the Captain's chair. How did this happen? he wondered again. </p>
<p> Entom remembered being in charge of an expedition into one of the darkest and most remote locations on earth in search of the fabled Karoo people who were said to have secrets that gave them incredible powers. As a respected anthropologist from a big city university Entom, Professor Entom Maxtut to be precise, was very interested in the secrets of the Karoo and persuaded his university to fund an expedition. Entom's teaching assistant, Tragar, and two graduate students, Brak and Jant, accompanied him into the unknown with a retinue of a dozen or so porters from Uxil's Mountain Guide Service. They never could get an accurate count of the porters and their leader Uxil didn't seem to understand whenever he'd been asked about it, sometimes falling into odd accents to further obfuscate. Curiously no one outside of this alleged big city has ever even heard of the fabled Karoo. </p>
<p> Nonetheless, when the map to Cranch, the peculiar name of the Karoo country, was discovered Entom had been enormously excited since he'd claimed that no one had ever been able to find Cranch before. He talked of an amazing road of twists and turns that was said to lead to Cranch, itself undiscovered. This is probably because most thought Cranch to be mythical, just the stuff of legends and never having a physical reality at all. But legends are often based on some thread of truth, truth that's greatly enlarged and distorted in time. </p>
<p> Much to everyone's surprise the map had given a starting point at a well-known suburb of the very city that Professor Maxtut's university was in. Further the suburb was where Professor Maxtut maintained his modest home. As you can see, we've gone from Entom to Professor Maxtut as our doubts quicken. How could he teach about Cranch and not know the secret road started right next door? How? Especially since right next door was a large hillock with a boulder blocking something suspicious, likely a cave entrance. </p>
<p> The very next morning the expedition, with Professor Maxtut at the head, hired a tractor to move the boulder then bravely entered the cave that was revealed. They all had excellent flashlights with fresh batteries and the cave was well lit as they began. By the end of the first day they were using just a front light, a middle and a back light as the need to preserve their batteries became apparent. The cave was pitch black without flashlights and that night was terrifying, trying to sleep in absolute blackness smothered by absolute silence. </p>
<p> The next day's march through darkness was a stumbling and stifling mess until a light was seen ahead. Tragar, Professor Maxtut's teaching assistant, who had proven to be a capable expedition chief by making sure everyone had dinner and a bed last night, then posted guards, all in absolute darkness, was the first to see it. </p>
<p> “Light ahead!” he screamed and everyone surged forward. They practically ran for the remaining couple of klicks to a large round exit, an exit that led to dry sand drifts under a bright, searing sun. The heat was unbearable and they stepped back into the shade of the cave. </p>
<p> Tragar gaped for a long time, then stuttered, “How is this possible?” He looked around, “How is this even possible?” </p>
<p> “This is the road to Cranch, I'm sure now,” Professor Maxtut proclaimed with a pleased and somewhat superior expression. </p>
<p> “We have to cross this hostile desert?” Tragar asked with eyes wide. </p>
<p> “No, no, nothing like that,” Professor Maxtut smiled. “According to the map,” which he was now looking at, “we go thataway.” He pointed into the cave from which they'd just emerged. “The spot we're at is marked Layover Two.” He looked up with a smile, “Layovers are, according to the map's legend, crossroads that can only be left at dawn.” </p>
<p> “So what happened to Layover One?” Tragar asked. </p>
<p> “Hmmm, I'm not sure,” Professor Maxtut said, scratching his head, “but I've got some ideas. We'll see, soon I hope.” He peered at the map for a moment more, then shrugged. “Anyway, we camp here and leave at dawn.” </p>
<p>2. Sliding along. </p>
<p> That afternoon was hot. Hotter than they had thought possible and they stayed in the shadow of the cave exit, drinking lots of water and dozing. As evening approached it got cooler and once again Professor Maxtut was impressed with Tragar's organizational skills as he, working well with the grad students Brak and Jant, put their camp together. He could only see six porters helping and he waved Uxil aside and asked if some of the porters had left. </p>
<p> “Nossuh!” Uxil exclaimed happily, seemingly transformed into some sordid version of a native. “All dem right hyar suh!” </p>
<p> With a stunned expression Professor Maxtut continued, “Oh. I thought a dozen or so had started with us, I mean . . .” </p>
<p> “Nossuh! Six like always, like we talked boss.” He smiled proudly. “See there? All de stuff okay, all de stuff here. Juss six dunnit.” </p>
<p> “Yes, of course. Thank you Uxil, you and your men are doing a marvelous job.” Uxil bowed and returned to helping set up camp but Professor Maxtut was troubled despite Uxil's assurances. He wondered why Uxil had used that obscure and demeaning slave lingo. He wondered how he could be so sure he'd seen a dozen or so porters at the start. But when he counted them again later there were only five. </p>
<p> They built a fire against the increasing cold using old driftwood they found along the base of the bluff where the cave emerged. As they huddled around the fire the night dropped like a curtain and it was suddenly dark. There was a huge swath of stars in the sky and they lost track of the cold, staring in awe. Unfortunately that awe was short lived as the cold soon became biting. It got colder and they crawled into their sleeping bags. Soon they were all huddled together near the fire trying to keep warm. It was a long night of very little sleep. No guard had been posted due to the shocking cold. Around three a.m. they heard a shrill, otherworldly screech, then another further off as if whatever had made that sound was sending a message. Then the sound was repeated again faintly in the distance. Maybe a pack. </p>
<p> When morning's first glimmer finally arrived, they began packing, anxious to get away from this spot but also to avoid freezing. They entered the cave entrance as the first rays of the sun lit their site. Professor Maxtut noticed, with some trepidation, that there were only three porters now. They seemed adequate to the task though and Uxil appeared unconcerned so he said nothing. Tragar looked momentarily puzzled then quickly turned and began the day's march. </p>
<p> The cave was definitely different now, curving around to the right and climbing sharply upward. It was well lit this time although no sources for the light could be seen. Within minutes they came to a sudden downturn that soon became too steep and they stopped. It was so steep they feared sliding if they took any further steps which was especially fearsome as the end of the slide could not be discerned. After standing in perplexity for a few moments Professor Maxtut sat down. He immediately began to slide and Tragar, in trying to reach him, fell on his bottom and began to slide too. Somehow Brak and Jant's feet slipped out from under them and they fell on their bottoms and began sliding as well. The last thing Professor Maxtut saw before sailing over the rim was Uxil and three porters solemnly watching with expressionless faces. He splashed into a deep underground river that carried him quickly outside then plopped him into a large placid lake. Soon Tragar, Brak and Jant joined him and together they swam for shore. </p>
<p> Luckily their packs were watertight, something that Professor Maxtut had insisted on, as if he had some sort of secret foreknowledge. The shore they found themselves on was part of a small clearing in a thick pine forest where a stream entered the lake. The air was cool and dry and it seemed to be early afternoon. Professor Maxtut pulled out the map and examined it again. </p>
<p> “Mmm. Mmmm,” he hummed, then looking up he announced, “Well, this is clearly Layover Three. The road to Cranch won't become visible until morning so let's set up camp.” </p>
<p> “How many Layovers does that map have?” Tragar asked. </p>
<p> “Doesn't say. And they, like the road itself, are only visible when you get to them.” </p>
<p> “Well that's awkward,” Tragar grumped. </p>
<p> “We're on the right trail though, of that there can be no doubt, no none at all.” Professor Maxtut shook his head. “And I have a feeling we're getting close to Cranch as well.” </p>
<p>3. Swimming in the prairie. </p>
<p> That afternoon they were plagued by insects as they set up camp. Even though it wasn't cold Tragar started a large fire using the dead wood that littered the area and the smoke seemed to keep the worst of the bugs away. When it got dark and they'd eaten and settled in the bugs were not as bad. The sky, like in the desert, was a blaze of stars but it was nowhere near as cold. Later they could hear roars and growls along with the stamping of large, heavy creatures running by but always staying out of sight, despite their excellent flashlights. They kept the fire blazing and huddled together through another almost sleepless night. The next morning there was a dirt road leading away from their campsite. </p>
<p> “How could we have missed that last night?” Tragar asked in amazement. </p>
<p> Professor Maxtut shrugged and, with a wry smile, answered, “I think that's how it works Tragar. I don't know how but that's apparently the way it works.” He shook his head. “I didn't believe it myself at first, I mean this is like some sort of, well magic. It's just like magic and I'm a professor at a university. I deal in facts, in truth, not magic.” </p>
<p> “Yet there it is,” Tragar said, pointing to the road. </p>
<p> “Yet there it is,” Professor Maxtut agreed, nodding slowly. Shrugging again he added, “Just as it appears to have been from the start.” </p>
<p> Somehow, they knew not to expect Uxil and the Porters as they began following the road. Tragar was walking beside Professor Maxtut and asked, “Were you talking about the cave, how it changed after the layover when you said magic was with us from the start?” </p>
<p> “Before that, but I didn't get it until now.” He was quiet for a time, walking a steady pace. “You remember how that boulder was covering the cave at the beginning? How it was blocking an obvious tunnel? And the incredulity at our not having seen it before?” </p>
<p> Tragar nodded uncertainly but Jant spoke up from behind them. “Yeah, I do. Something fishy about that.” </p>
<p> “Just so,” Professor Maxtut confirmed. “No one seems to remember how it looked the day before.” He was silent for a ways then continued in his lecture voice so that they could all hear. “It looked like a grass-covered hillock that was being used as a city park which is what it was, nothing more. There was a trail to the top with benches along the way. The boulder was there but it was mostly buried with a lot of shrubbery covering it. Then, in one night it emerged.” </p>
<p> “Why? What'd cause that boulder to appear like that?” Jant asked. </p>
<p> “The discovery of the map.” Professor Maxtut frowned. “In our university library of all places. Apparently coming to the surface like that set off the first layover, which then caused the boulder to appear.” </p>
<p> “Who found the map?” Tragar asked. </p>
<p> “That's a mystery, I'm afraid. Miss Myrkle's class was there to study the library system and it'd gotten a little rowdy when Miss Myrkle was suddenly called away. Had to quiet the lot several times as the librarian, Ms. Bookish recalled. Anyway, during one ruckus someone set the map on her desk and announced, 'Looky what we found Ms. Bookish,' and when she looked there was the map on her desk but no one delivering it. When she got them quieted again no one claimed to know anything about any map, not even to Miss Myrkle when she got back.” </p>
<p> They walked in silence. After an hour or so they left the forest, entering a vast plain with the road cutting a straight line to the horizon. The thought of crossing that expanse seemed insurmountable but seeing no other options they continued on. After a time they came to a small pond with a grove of trees. It was a lovely spot and Professor Maxtut called for a rest stop. There was a small creek feeding the pond and they restocked their water bottles and washed their faces. Brak and Jant started wading in the shallow part near where the stream entered the pond and soon discarded their clothing and were splashing and swimming about. </p>
<p> “Com'on in!” Jant called as she splashed Brak, “The water's fabulous!” </p>
<p> Professor Maxtut and Tragar had washed in the stream's delightful water but despite the lovely conditions neither wanted to jump in. Neither could have said why, they just didn't. Instead they sat on the shore leaning against a couple of the trees, enjoying the splashing students, the balmy air, and the fragrant breeze. Must be flowers nearby, Professor Maxtut thought dreamily. He was trying to identify the scent when Tragar spoke, as if in a dream. He seemed to be saying how calm and peaceful it was here, and . . . he jerked awake. </p>
<p> “What . . .?” he sputtered. He looked at Tragar who was blinking his eyes, giving him a questioning look. “Where's the kids?” he asked, suddenly aware of how quiet it was and how he could see their clothes still lying on the shore where they'd dropped them. And how still the pond was. The pond's other sides were open prairie, just this grove of trees being the only feature. They stood and began calling their names. </p>
<p> “Brak! Jant! Where are you?” they called, over and over, even walking around the pond several times but they got no reply. They stayed the night, hoping for their return but there was nothing. During the night they heard splashing from time to time but never a voice or any response at all to their calling. Their flashlights showed only mild ripples whenever they tried to see. </p>
<p>4. Flying away. </p>
<p> The next morning the road they'd arrived on was gone, replaced by a blacktop bike trail winding through rolling grass-covered hills. Professor Maxtut was sure the trail went in the opposite direction of their arrival. There were two bicycles lying by where the trail began and, having not heard a thing from Brak and Jant since they disappeared yesterday, they mounted the bikes and began pedaling the trail. Both thought that the best way to get answers to all their questions was to get to Cranch. After a couple hours of pleasant yet brisk pedaling they came upon a rock hut with a thatched roof. In front sat a man . . . well, perhaps a dwarf or well, whatever, he sat watching them arrive. </p>
<p> They stopped in front of him and dismounted. Professor Maxtut spoke, “Hello there!” he called out. The figure didn't move or respond at all. Giving Tragar a curious look he tried again, “Hello! You there! Can you hear me? We're riding this bike trail . . .” </p>
<p> “I can see what you're doing. What you want?” the creature asked irritably. </p>
<p> “Oh! Uh, well we're going to Cranch. Perhaps you've heard of Cranch?” The creature was silent, unmoving. “Thing is,” Professor Maxtut continued, “we aren't really sure where it's at. Cranch that is. We're going there but we . . .” </p>
<p> “Why?” </p>
<p> “Huh?” </p>
<p> The creature leaned over to his right and emitted what sounded like a fart. “Ahh,” he said with a smile. Then, scowling at Professor Maxtut, who'd backed up, he continued, “Why you going to Cranch?” </p>
<p> “Science,” Professor Maxtut promptly answered. </p>
<p> “That a fact,” the creature muttered. “You muss be scientists, huh?” </p>
<p> “Why yes. Yes, we are,” Professor Maxtut agreed, then looking at Tragar he added, “Well I am. Tragar's my assistant.” Seeing a look of disgust on both their faces he added, “But he's still a scientist. Darn good one too. Why I rely on . . .” </p>
<p> “Yeah, yeah, a scientist. So what's your name?” </p>
<p> “Maxtut. Professor Entom Maxtut and this here is Tragar Fetchit,” gesturing at Tragar, “my esteemed colleague and fellow scientist who . . .” </p>
<p> “Maxtut?” the creature asked. </p>
<p> “Uh, yes. Entom Maxtut, at your service.” </p>
<p> “Your daddy named Enmar Maxtut?” </p>
<p> Completely shaken Professor Maxtut could only nod and whisper, “Yes. How, how did you . . .” </p>
<p> “Well I reckon I could take you on into Cranch then, most the way anyway.” He stood and it was now apparent that he was a Dwarf. He walked into the hut and returned with a two wheel scooter, like the kids used. “Keep up!” he yelled as the scooter carried him away at a high speed. Scrambling to get on their bikes they pedaled as fast as they could but still lost sight of the Dwarf after a few minutes. Seeing no alternative they continued on the trail until they came to a fork where they stopped, unsure which way to go. </p>
<p> Then they heard a distant voice, “Up here!' Looking around they spotted a small rise in the prairie with a stone tower on it. The Dwarf was standing by the tower, waving. They followed the trail up to the tower and dismounted as the Dwarf watched. When they walked up to where the Dwarf stood, he smiled at them, “This here's a Layover. Guess you all know what that is?” </p>
<p> Professor Maxtut nodded, looking around, “Number four, isn't it?” he asked. </p>
<p> “Thass right! Nummer four, thass right!” </p>
<p> “Is it the tower?” Professor Maxtut asked. </p>
<p> “Nah, don think so. Thass it,” he pointed to a side area where a picnic table, a pile of chopped wood and a fire ring became apparent. “That tower's jussa marker, you know? Big prairie an it marks the spot.” He pointed again at the picnic area. “That there's nummer four!” With that he laughed then hopped on his scooter and was gone in a flash. </p>
<p> “Looks like we're here tonight,” Tragar muttered watching the Dwarf speed away. </p>
<p> That night they heard sounds of war with missiles and rockets exploding, shaking the ground, and showering them with debris amid the rapid fire and screams of soldiers. But it was all beyond their sight, somehow always beyond their flashlight's range and nothing showed, no lights, flashes, nothing. The war ended before dawn and in the ensuing quiet they both dozed off. </p>
<p> Sunlight striking his face awakened Professor Maxtut and the first thing he saw was the tower. Its door was wide open and he rose groggily to inspect it. Looking back he saw that Tragar was sleeping soundly. I'll just peek inside, he thought, wondering if the tower was somehow the next way to Cranch. He stepped inside and immediately the door slammed shut behind him. Then there was a roaring and he was knocked to the floor as the tower crumbled away to reveal a spaceship blasting into space. The force knocked him out and when he awoke, he was in space, wondering how this had happened. </p>
<p> As he sat in the Captain's chair pondering, a strange thing happened. He heard three odd tones and his head began to clear. Three more and he remembered everything, everything that had been locked and hidden in the far recesses of his mind, until now. He smiled, knowing that he'd been successful and they now had all they needed. He turned on the controls and expertly piloted the spaceship to the hidden mother ship where General Enmar Maxtut, his father, waited for the word, the 'all clear' to invade. </p>
<p> There was a clang as Entom's ship attached itself to the mother ship and a tube allowing for passage filled with oxygen. He walked triumphantly down the corridor as soon as it opened. When he entered the mother ship, he wasn't given the reception he'd expected. Instead there was no one and he walked uncertainly into what appeared to be an overgrown vacant lot with tall brick buildings on three sides. Stepping in he stood in the weeds and trash, now with a bustling street behind, staring stupidly at a sign announcing the future construction plans for this site. The sign proudly proclaimed this to be the future home of Layover Five.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/66260182021-05-09T15:35:47-07:002021-05-09T15:47:59-07:00Bad Neighborhood - By H.R.Riviter<p> As she approached the pond, she knew something was wrong. It was nothing she had seen or heard, rather it was a feeling, thick as syrup, palpable and unnerving, that was giving her goosebumps. She stopped and looked in every direction, even up, but saw nothing untoward and continued on. It was a beautiful spring day, bright with new life and stunning colors, a day that would normally have brought a bounce to her step and a song to her lips yet here she strode purposefully, wary of something, careful but of what she couldn't say. It seemed so gloomy that she gave the sun a worried look, checking for clouds or . . . well, anything to account for this shadowy cover, for that's how it felt, like being in an oddly pervasive shade that lurked and hid things, yet the sun was bright overhead with no clouds nearby. Somehow the pond and its environs remained gloomy with a strong sense of shadow even under a bright sky. She stopped again. </p>
<p> “Hello?” she called out. She was sure she'd seen a furtive movement in the shrubs ahead by the path. With a fearful perusal she continued forward. </p>
<p> This was her second year as a deputy with the Loomin County Sheriff's Department under Sheriff Madsen, a fearsome 'my way or the highway' despot. She'd surreptitiously seen him frown and shake his head as she left to answer the call of suspicious activity at Donner Pond. This was not what deputy's ought to be doing, as he'd proclaimed many a time. This was for those damn uppity rangers since it was more'n likely some wild animal causing the trouble. Loomin County was rural and crime was rare. Enough wildlife though to cause problems. Unfortunately Deputy Runjump was not experiencing any normal kind of wildlife out at Donner Pond that day. </p>
<p> “Who's there?” she called out. </p>
<p> She'd unstrapped her service revolver and left her hand on it. Peering cautiously ahead she continued toward the pond. The wind was blowing persistently against her as if trying to push her back. She had a sense of being watched that grew stronger as she neared the pond. When she got there the first thing she noticed was how still the water was. Not a ripple despite the breeze which, she suddenly realized, was now completely still. Silence instead of the natural sounds that were usually heard in the countryside, sounds like birds, squirrels, and the buzz of insects, all silent. Again she felt goosebumps. </p>
<p> She seemed frozen to the spot, totally disconnected and surreal when her personal radio squawked and a voice asked, “Deputy Runjump! You hear me? It's the Sheriff. What you got out there?” </p>
<p> She was unnerved by the sudden call and took a moment to answer. Pulling the mike down she pressed the button and spoke, “Yeah, I hear you. Nothing so far. The pond looks calm and no one's around.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, it's like I thought. Probably just a bear or some bucks fighting. You should come on in.” </p>
<p> “Uh, sheriff, there's something odd here. Something isn't right. You mind if I look around a little?” </p>
<p> “What you think it is? You want backup?” </p>
<p> “I dunno, I don't think so. Haven't seen anything, it's just there's a strong feeling of wrongness here.” </p>
<p> “Hmm. Yeah, okay, but don’t be too long huh? Slow day so far but you know how quick that can change.” </p>
<p> “Copy that.” She reattached the mike to her shoulder harness and looked around. Silent and still. Then she heard footsteps, like someone walking on a hard floor or even marble. The pace was slow but steady and she looked nervously around. There was nothing but natural country, nothing paved for at least half a mile, that being the highway, itself poorly paved. There was nowhere this sound could be happening from. </p>
<p> Her fear increased and she pulled her revolver out. “Who's there?” she called loudly. </p>
<p> The steps continued and slowly, as if out of a cloud, a man appeared in the middle of the pond, wearing a typical business suit, and carrying a briefcase. He was walking on the pond's surface, which had somehow solidified. When he was in front of her, he stopped and tipped his hat, a black bowler with a wide brim, and said, “Good afternoon ma'am. You must be the Interferometer Oscillatum. I trust everything's okay on this end? I know there was a big ruckus this time. Sorry about the bangs and flashing lights. Rough connection, you know, the dimensional drift and all that but I assure you things will be calmer now going forward.” He smiled at her. </p>
<p> “Where you from?” she sputtered. “How'd you walk on water?” The only analogy she could think of was Jesus who also walked on water and that disturbed her deeply, deeper than she could say. </p>
<p> He looked surprised, “They didn't inform you? You aren't . . .” She just shook her head slowly. “Oh dear. Well this is a mess.” He looked around. “Say, this is Eridani 6, isn't it? Doesn't really look like it.” </p>
<p> “This is Donner Pond,” she said, glad to have something that she knew about. </p>
<p> “Yes, yes, but what planet?” </p>
<p> “Planet?” </p>
<p> “Yes. What planet?” </p>
<p> “Why earth, of course.” </p>
<p> The man visibly went pale and took a step back. “Oh my heavens!” He looked around fearfully and started slowly backing up, holding his arms protectively in front of him and using the briefcase as a shield. “Is that thing you're holding a weapon?” he asked with wide eyes, pointing to her hand. </p>
<p> She looked down and seeing that she was still holding her gun, she lowered it a little. “Yeah,” she answered. “So what're you? Where you from? I mean what's going on here?” She was beginning to feel a little hysterical and raised her gun again. Nothing like this had ever happened before. She looked out across the pond where the man had first appeared but could see nothing except maybe a little fog. When she looked back, he was gone. Slowly, as if the sound was being turned back on, she could hear the pond's fauna again. Now she could see little waves where the breeze was teasing the water and feel the wind blowing against her face. </p>
<p> Then she heard a disembodied voice, “We're so sorry to have bothered you, just a little calibration error, it'll not happen again, I can assure you. Oh, and by the way, madam, do you have any idea where you're at? Please be careful.” </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/66260172021-05-09T15:35:10-07:002021-05-09T15:47:49-07:00Seeing Is Believing - By H.R.Riviter<p> Someone left their glasses on my counter where I run the register for Dan's Cowboy Cafe. It'd been a busy morning and I hadn't noticed who'd left them. I sure didn't remember anyone wearing them and I figured I would, as they had green frames and seemed opaque. Holding them up I couldn't see through the lenses at all. I'd remember somebody wearing these I thought as I tossed them into the lost and found box. I noticed the box was getting full and made a note to empty it soon. Then I got busy with other things. </p>
<p> Two days later a man came in wearing the exact same pair. I'm sorry to say I gaped for a moment. No one else seemed to notice and the man appeared to be able to see okay, still I was, well, surprised. </p>
<p> “You didn't happen to lose a pair of glasses like those you're wearing, did you?” I asked as we completed our transaction. </p>
<p> He was quiet for a moment then, smiling oddly, he said, “No, but my friend did. I'll send him by first thing.” With that he turned and walked out. </p>
<p> I'll be darned, I thought, he could see through those things. I was glad I hadn't emptied the lost and found box and during the next lull I pulled the glasses out and examined them. They seemed normal enough except for the frame color and the lenses. I slipped them into my pocket as we got busy again and didn't think of them at all until break when I reached in for some change at the coffee machine. Sitting down with a coffee and donut I examined them again. Except for the green frames and the gray-white opaque lenses, they were nondescript. The break room was mostly empty, just a disreputable looking dishwasher named Lenny who was on break, staring at a smart phone and Lorina, a waitress ending her shift and counting her tips. I took off my glasses and slipped the weird ones on, surprised that I could see through them clearly. Better than my prescription glasses in fact. </p>
<p> I glanced over at Lorina who looked up and smiled. She seemed to glow and I smiled back. </p>
<p> “Where'd ya get those crazy glasses?” she asked, grinning wider. </p>
<p> Before I could answer Lenny yelped, “Oh shit!” from behind me and stood so fast his chair tipped over backward. I glanced around just in time to see a reddish creature run out the door, giving me a quick, red-eyed glare on the way out. </p>
<p> “Whoa! Did you see that?” I asked. </p>
<p> Lorina shrugged, “Just Lenny the dishwasher. He's kinda odd, I guess. Sure jumped up quick though. Must be late getting back or something.” </p>
<p> “Yeah,” I said, pulling the glasses off. I wasn't at all sure I'd seen what I thought I'd seen but the image, imagined or not, gave me the creeps. “Got 'em in lost and found,” I told her as I put my own glasses back on. Wow, the difference was even more noticeable, like I was in a fog. I really need to get my eyes checked, I thought. I looked at Lorina, who wasn't glowing anymore, and added, “Some guy says his friend is going to come get them soon.” </p>
<p> She laughed, “Who'd claim those gaudy things?” </p>
<p> I laughed and shrugged, “To each his own I guess.” </p>
<p> Somehow, I felt unwilling to give them up though and kept them in my pocket the rest of my shift. No one came to claim them which curiously pleased me and I took them home that night. In the privacy of my own home I put them back on. Everything was so clear! I looked around and was shocked at how dirty things were that I hadn't even noticed before. Yikes! I pulled the glasses off and put my own back on. Now everything seemed clean and nice again. Feeling a sudden weariness I decided to keep the weird glasses off. I didn't mention it at all to my boyfriend when he came in a little later. </p>
<p> It wasn't until the next morning that I thought of the glasses again. Brad, my boyfriend, had gone to the corner store for coffee, and I was getting ready for work. I'd put them in my shirt pocket so Brad wouldn't see them and I felt a tinge of guilt at my deception. I put them on and once again was greeted with the stark clarity of the grime and decay that surrounded me. How could this be? I quickly stuck them in my purse before Brad got back. I didn't want him seeing how grimy it was here, then I felt even guiltier. I was wiping the counters with a clean damp cloth when he returned. He smiled when he saw me, then handed me my coffee without speaking. Just smiling with raised eyebrows. </p>
<p> “Thanks,” I murmured. “Just thought it was looking a little grimy is all. I might vacuum later.” </p>
<p> “Whatever babe. You got no argument from me.” He gave me a kiss, “See you tonight.” </p>
<p> I watched out the window until I saw him walking down the street then I put on the glasses and looked. He was glowing. Like Lorina. I was staring transfixed when a reddish creature with evil eyes, eyes like Lenny'd had in my brief break-room glimpse suddenly stopped and turned to stare right at me. Then it smiled and continued on. This bothered me, so wondering what the creature had seen when it looked at me, I went into the bathroom with the glasses on. I was appalled at the filth when I walked in but was shocked speechless when I looked into the mirror, for there, looking back, was a reddish creature with evil eyes. Thoroughly shaken I tucked the glasses into my pocket and left for work. </p>
<p> That morning Lenny grinned at me and winked, then later a man wearing dark glasses came in and claimed the weird glasses. He described them perfectly, giving me a knowing smile when I handed them over. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/66003162021-04-10T11:52:51-07:002021-05-09T20:47:27-07:00Switch - By Lillow Mi<p> I keep to the reeds, like papa taught me, watching the river closely for anything that might come floating by. In the reeds I can't be seen from the river in case something bad-nasty comes along, but if it's something good or at least innocuously interesting, then I'm well situated to fetch it. My family has been watching the river for almost a year now, ever since the first big explosion when everything stopped and she has kept us going, at times in abundance and others in need, but going, nonetheless. I loved this river watching, just sitting in a little dry spot hidden by reeds and hoping for something fabulous to come floating by. It's a meditation really and the anticipation of something wonderful appearing keeps it interesting. Huge quantities of stuff come floating down each day too. I've often wondered where it all comes from, I mean what could be happening upstream? It began with a massive blast followed by silence everywhere, then wreckage floating downstream. I think of how Cousin Willy fished a trunk out last week holding a beautiful set of china and sterling silver that would've been worth a fortune before. Ma was glad to get it for her kitchen though. </p>
<p> My dog Enfield has accompanied me today and he lifts his head, looking upriver. “See anything?” I whisper. </p>
<p> “Durrrgno,” he mutters, staring upstream. </p>
<p> I peered as far as I could but saw nothing. I'm pretty sure Enfield's eyes are better than mine but I am sure he's got a better nose. He's probably smelled something. We both continue to stare. I rely on his senses and I know he relies on my intellect. Why just yesterday he smelled a freezer full of still frozen steaks that I would've missed, then I figured a way to cast our hook out and reel it in. We did it together, like a team. Those were my favorite times on the river. </p>
<p> Soon the approaching flotsam becomes apparent. It's the top of a house, and as it nears, I see that it's complete. I smile at Enfield and he smiles back, wagging his tail. This is a rare and wonderful find! Entire hoards of canned food, bottled water and other treasures have been found in parts of houses just like this. Here was an entire roof with maybe an entire floor underneath! Now to ground it. I picked up my rope and sized up the house-top as it neared. That's when I saw a figure crouching on the other side of the roof and I ducked back down, but I think he saw me. I also think he knows that I saw him. Or she. I didn't get a very good look, but I did see movement, like it was trying to hide. I looked at Enfield who was gazing intently at the roof from behind the reeds. </p>
<p> Suddenly his eyes went round and he looked at me, “Whaff . . . ?” </p>
<p> I looked at the house-top and somehow it had changed course and instead of drifting by like everything else, it was headed right at us. “Let's get outta here!” I yelled, sloshing through the reeds toward shore but Enfield was already bounding ahead. There's another thing dogs do better than me, they can run fast. </p>
<p> Suddenly there's a horrible crunching sound behind but I keep running, no sign of Enfield. When I reach the dry shore I keep running and I keep running until I get home where I run to my room and hide under my bed, pushing Enfield aside. </p>
<p> Ma and Pa were in the front room with Cousin Willy and Granpa, watching TV. I saw that much running through. I never thought that old TV would work after we pulled it out of the river, especially since there's no electricity, but by golly, it sputtered and hissed then began playing. It plays old programs over and over with no commercials, just old programs over and over. Never seen any repeats either. It's totally fascinating and we all spend hours gazing at it. </p>
<p> Now there's a loud banging on the door and the TV shuts off. Then there's another huge blast from way upriver, huge like the world's ending sort of blast, like the first one. Goes on for a long time with lots of fireworks. This is the third one we've had since everything stopped, and again I wonder; what the heck is going on upstream? When the noise dies down my ears are still ringing, but I can hear Cousin Willy getting up. I hope he doesn't answer the door. He does, but I can hear him complaining that there was no one there as he returns and sits down. The TV remains off. </p>
<p> I look at Enfield and he looks back with a worried expression. Then he put his head down with his eyes open. It is strangely quiet and I listen for any clues. Now Enfield's eyes are closed and I think he's asleep. I feel safe here and I'm in no hurry to leave. Soon I am asleep too. </p>
<p> When I wake it is deathly silent. It must be the middle of the night; I think as I slide out from under the bed. Enfield is nowhere around. I tip-toe up the hall and peer into the front room. Ma and Pa are in their usual spot, watching that weird TV which provided the only light in the room, giving them a ghostly cast. There's Cousin Willy and Grandpa and there's . . . I was shocked speechless. It was me, returning my look with a sardonic grin. I stepped out into view. </p>
<p> “Who are you?'” I demanded, standing over my unknown twin. She just smiled, winked at me, and returned to watching TV. I saw Enfield asleep at her feet, apparently not bothered at all by my angry arrival. I looked at Ma and Pa. “Who is this?” I shouted, pointing at the intruder. No one moved or even twitched. There was no response at all as they, except for my twin, continued watching TV. </p>
<p> My twin looked at me and grinned, remaining silent as she snapped her fingers. I found myself retreating, passing through the walls like a ghost until I was sitting on a rooftop, floating downstream. What I knew then was that I needed to find someone. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/66003152021-04-10T11:52:19-07:002021-04-10T11:52:19-07:00Reconciliation - By Lillow Mi<p> The problem with 85 Worster Lane, besides being a big old purple mansion, was that a monster lurked in the basement. Nobody ever wanted to go down there. So whenever a trip to the basement was needed there were always excuses galore from everyone. Things were not getting done, necessary things, and things that needed retrieving were not getting retrieved. This created an imbalance of power and soon Queen Bonnet herself descended from her royal quarters demanding to know the reason why. Why are her winter clothes irretrievable? Why does the furnace clank so? Why are there no potatoes? She went on and on, finally arriving at the heart of the matter by demanding to know why the monster has not been dealt with? </p>
<p> When Queen Bonnet asked her questions there were heard the classic hemming and hawing from all the Royal Family as no one had a clue what to do. The other problem with 85 Worster Lane is that they all think they're Royals. Anyway, after a tense pause, Mr. Bonnet, the King but still below Queen Bonnet, said it was clearly an offensive problem not defensive so what they should do is muster forces and attack. He spoke with venom and people were persuaded. Soon the forces were attained, being the Princes Davy and Bob, hale and hearty lads indeed and the charge was on. King Bonnet led the attack while Queen Bonnet ascended to her palatial suite. </p>
<p> Creeping down the basement stairs, King Bonnet had all the lights on, there were spotlights and sunlamps everywhere plus he and his troops all carried bright, recently tested flashlights. When they arrived it was brighter than the sundown there, much brighter, and they were forced to wear sunglasses and broad brimmed hats. </p>
<p> Unfortunately, or fortunately if you're a monster, the monster was visiting his dad in Florida when the attack occurred. The King and his loyal troops, Sir Davy, and Sir Bob, having cleared the basement to their satisfaction, returned upstairs and Queen Bonnet was appeased. Soon the monster returned. The good King Bonnet immediately started planning their next offensive action when, in a shocking display, they got their power bill and quickly decided that maybe the monster in the basement, since no one had gotten killed, maybe wasn't so bad after all. And they all managed as best they could ever after.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/65691392021-03-09T12:42:03-07:002021-03-09T12:42:03-07:00That - By Lillow Mi<p> The trees have combed the breeze with their barren branches and brushed the sky with their peaks and crowns. They've stood proud and tall through all sorts of weather, never leaving their posts, not even for a moment, stalwart and silent. Was ever a hero more nobly blessed? </p>
<p> The shrubs, however, remain unconvinced, determined to proceed with their deprivation of sunlight lawsuit despite the otherwise fine reputation of the trees. </p>
<p> Detective Scrub Pine was assigned to the case by the defense with instructions to get darn well to the bottom of this useless fracas because if the shrubs won, what could possibly be done? The trees must have their leaves this Spring after all. </p>
<p> Detective Scrub Pine was considered ideal for the job, being somewhere between trees and shrubs, size-wise anyway. Temperamentally he was in fact quite lofty, close to heaven while the trees were often flighty and whimsical. The shrubs were very down to earth, day to day types, sometimes prickly and frequently involved in rows. </p>
<p> The lawyers were all vines that twisted and turned according to their nature and the case proceeded as expected, that is to say, it went nowhere. It seems they were all firmly rooted to their positions and could not be budged. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/65685792021-03-08T20:29:07-07:002021-03-08T20:29:07-07:00A Melodrama in Two Parts; Some Shocking Occurrences - By Lillow Mi<p>1. The Mad Dr. Glew </p>
<p> It was a dark and stormy night. The mad Dr. Glew was in his lab standing over a beautiful young woman strapped to a gurney. The doctor was laughing maniacally. There were two large poles with crackling electricity sparking between them. It was a seriously scary scene and Chief Detective Frensik drew back, staying in the shadows. They'd had information about this apparent crime from the mysterious Deep Ape who lurked in the corners and found out about stuff. Now Frensik's team of courageous monkeys have surrounded the lab and all were ready to put an end to this fiendish enterprise when suddenly, like a big flash or something, the mad Dr. Glew disappeared! </p>
<p> Where the heck did he go? And why was he mad? These were the questions that CD Frensik faced as he began his investigation. He first interviewed the beautiful young woman who they'd recently saved from the mad Dr. Glew, while his monkey associates searched the lab, finding many oddities, taking many notes, and seeing many things. </p>
<p> Her name was Tawdry Fishbate and she was working for the Maiden In Distress Service, Inc. and had been hired by the mad Dr. Glew for his experiments. She claimed she didn't know anything else. CD Frensik looked at her through narrowed eyes while she squirmed. Then he nodded and left. The fastidious monkeys had found no explanation for the mad Dr. Glew's mysterious disappearance and they were all squirming too, not liking this one bit. </p>
<p> Next CD Frensik, along with his best monkeys, Deputy Sergeant Shaguti and Deputy Nanda, braving the dark and stormy night, went to see the wizard, the wonderful Wizard Treygar, known to the locals as Treywiz and a heck of a wiz he was. </p>
<p> CD Frensik stepped forward and asked, “So Wizard, how can he just disappear like that? I mean there he was, looming over his terrified assistant when, like a flash or something, he was gone! Zippo! No trace. We looked everywhere.” DS Shaguti and D Nanda nodded enthusiastic agreement at this. </p>
<p> “We checked every millimeter!” DS Shaguti added. </p>
<p> “Disappeared, did he, right in front of you?” Treywiz asked, looking intently at CD Frensik. </p>
<p> “Yessir, your wizardship, right in front of us! Gone!” CD Frensik answered. “Musta been magic so we figured you'd know.” </p>
<p> “Hmmm,” Treywiz murmured, looking thoughtful. “I shall have to look into this.” Outside the dark and stormy night continued, unabated. </p>
<p> Meanwhile the mad Dr. Glew, hiding in his secret hideaway, scowled and kicked his favorite chair. He was still quite mad and began planning his next nefarious scheme, laughing maniacally from time to time. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>2. A Sticky Wicket. </p>
<p> After such a dark and stormy night it was a relief that the morning was bright and calm. Bluebirds sang merrily and most people had a skip to their walk. One who didn't was the mad Dr. Glew who was stomping angrily down the street, in plain view so that nobody saw him. What they did see was D Nanda sneaking stealthily down the street behind him. They knew something was up and watched attentively. </p>
<p> An unassuming innocent passerby walking briskly from the other direction was suddenly accosted by the mad Dr. Glew and thrown to the ground. It was shocking and gasps of dismay were heard all around. Then the mad Dr. Glew put his foot on the innocent passerby's chest and began howling. D Nanda, followed by CD Frensik himself, came running but just before they got there the mad Dr. Glew disappeared in a flash or something. </p>
<p> CD Frensik turned to the innocent passerby who was getting up. “I hope you're okay?'' he asked, helping him to his feet. </p>
<p> “Oh yeah, sure,” the innocent passerby assured him. “My contract was for a no damage confrontation.” </p>
<p> “Your contract?” CD Frensik asked with a sinking feeling. </p>
<p> “Yeah. I work for the Innocent Passerby Company and I was hired by the mad Dr. Glew.” He brushed his shirt and pants, “Said he wanted an altercation right here in this spot and when I saw the no damage clause, I applied for it.” </p>
<p> “Is that so?” CD Frensik asked wearily. “Well then, where is the mad Dr. Glew now and why is he mad?” </p>
<p> “Dunno. He just disappeared; you know? Nice trick. Anyway that's all I know.” </p>
<p> CD Frensik peered at the innocent passerby through squinty eyes causing the innocent passerby to squirm. When D Nanda, who had been scouring the area looking for clues, reported finding nothing, he too began to squirm. </p>
<p> Then CD Frensik and D Nanda returned to headquarters where they found Treywiz awaiting them. CD Frensik ushered them all into his private office and when they were settled, he asked, “So what's up Wizard?” </p>
<p> “I met with Deep Ape,” Treywiz began, giving them a very serious look. “He told me that the mad Dr. Glew will be at Flirty's Lounge at five pm tonight.” </p>
<p> They all looked at their watches, “twenty minutes from now,” they all murmured. Then they all, including DS Shaguti who had joined them, ran quickly over to Flirty's, which wasn't too far, where they hid around the doorway, waiting for the mad Dr. Glew to show up. Soon the unsuspecting and still somewhat mad Dr. Glew came strolling down the lane, not knowing that Deep Ape was actually a double agent who had sold him out to the man. In no time at all he was surrounded by CD Frensik's team. </p>
<p> “Why are you mad?” CD Frensik yelled, himself somewhat upset. </p>
<p> “Of course I'm mad,” Dr. Glew yelled back. “Ever since our darned author Lillow started calling me Glew I've been getting razed everywhere I go. Do you know how many sticky glue jokes there are? Not to mention the constant stickiness that follows me wherever I go.” He scowled at CD Frensik who seemed to have his hand stuck to the bush he'd been hiding behind. </p>
<p> “Point taken,” CD Frensik replied, pulling his hand away from the bush with a pop and flying leaves. Dr. Glew smiled with grim satisfaction as CD Frensik began pulling leaves from his hand. Then he laughed out loud when the leaves CD Frensik pulled off one hand stuck to the other. With a colorful expletive the mad CD Frensik returned to headquarters while Dr. Glew disappeared in a flash or something. They never did figure out how he did that but everyone agreed it was a neat trick. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/65420382021-02-07T11:35:15-07:002021-02-07T11:35:15-07:00The Dog Tales #9, A Veritable Dismay - By Lillow Mi<p> It was a windy day, potentially a dark and stormy night ahead, and Spike watched the trees bending over with concern. Usually people didn't howl during a windstorm, at least Spike's gang didn't, because of the competing noise, but also because of the way it interfered with the tornado and lightnings that the gang's howl raised. Each time they howled it caused a mini-storm that they'd all come to love. He hunkered down behind the wall where they liked to howl, watching. He wasn't sure why the wall was there but it was perfect in that it was sturdy, not very high and only about ten meters long so it kept nothing out and nothing in. It just stood, uselessly stable, a monument to wallish aspirations everywhere. </p>
<p> He noticed a movement, then saw Rover making his way across the meadow. His long ears stood up at times from the wind and clapped together, like hands clapping, while his lips fluttered and flapped. Unperturbed he plodded resolutely on, eyes half-lidded, perhaps resigned, applauding trees and bushes as he passed, who then bowed like actors. Spike was enchanted by this vision of Rover until Fido came bounding into view. Now his eyes went round as he observed Fido's unnaturally long bounds and stricken expression, then he was looking up as Fido flew by overhead, looking down at him with a very worried look. </p>
<p> “He usually doesn't bound that high,” Rover said walking up, watching Fido sail by while his ears applauded. As they watched Fido flew toward a manor window then, just before crashing into it, it flew open and two arms grabbed him and pulled him inside. </p>
<p> Ishmael stuck his head out and seeing the two Dogs staring up at him, smiled and waved. He shut the window and soon the back door opened and Fido came wobbling out. Being a smaller Dog of Scottish descent he walked with stilted legs, slowly and purposefully, bending to the wind. When he got to the edge of the porch he looked up and saw Spike and Rover watching him. Grinning wide and forgetting the wind he bounded off the porch and was immediately taken by a strong gust. Spike and Rover were both shocked at seeing him flapping his legs and flying wildly away as the wind carried him past the manor and toward Thagwood Forest. They both gazed with a veritable dismay. </p>
<p> Thagwood Forest was home to millions of faunae who typically have not had good experiences with Dogs, mainly due to the Dogs' automatic response to the unknown; either bark and chase or run and hide, and the unknown is most everything in the woods, them being farm Dogs and all. Knowing their own nature neither Spike nor Rover relished the thought of going into that forest and gazed at the trees with slack jaws and empty expressions. Despite this, Rover's ears applauded in a sudden gust. </p>
<p> They stared at the trees for quite a while before deciding to advance. It was late afternoon and they definitely did not want to be in Thagwood Forest after dark, especially in this wind. Having managed to start, they were now trying to hurry. When they got to the first copse of trees they stopped, unnerved at the prospect before them. There was a sizable stretch of meadow yet to go, while the wind still howled and the trees whipped around. They looked at each other with worried expressions and began walking slowly forward again. </p>
<p> “I wouldn't go in there if I was you,” Fido said from behind them. </p>
<p> They both whipped around, “Wha, wha, what, how, where did you come from?” Spike huffed as Rover held a paw over his heart and took deep breaths. </p>
<p> “I flew right on around the manor, didn't even go in there at all,” he said, pointing his nose at Thagwood. “I landed in some trees by the Golly Orchard and walked slowly and carefully back. Saw you guys and come over.” He looked around. “You just gotta be careful. No bounding, you know?” </p>
<p> “I'd say not,” Rover agreed, his ears quickly applauding Fido's heroic effort. </p>
<p> “Enough of this,” Spike growled, looking back at the manor. “Can't see howlin' during a hurricane. I think we need to spend this night indoors. Hang on!” </p>
<p> They held onto each other as they went to prevent being blown away. As they entered the main hearth room, they found Alley already there, curled up by the fire, listening to me tell stories. </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/65420372021-02-07T11:34:14-07:002021-02-07T11:34:14-07:00Greener Grass - By Lillow Mi<p> Sometimes I write solely to write, without intention. To try and stay in touch with the writers' spirit, I think. Write just to write. See what comes out, but no matter what, keep on writing. Write about a tree. A tree that grows in a small, raised yard with cinder block edges facing the sidewalk. It is an ordinary looking tree, especially nondescript in the winter when its leafy cloak is gone but the small yard it grows in is full of a remarkably green grass despite it being early winter. Both the tree and I are suspicious of this. We wonder what keeps the grass green in the winter. Even when it snows, which is decidedly infrequent in these parts though it does freeze, even then this grass is green. </p>
<p> The wall behind the tree is a red brick building with no windows. The second and third floors above that, also red brick have small dark windows. The front is an empty store with curtains in the windows on both sides of a recessed main entrance. Between the market and this store is a padlocked door probably granting access to the upper floor apartments. At least I think they're apartments, or offices even though I've never seen anyone going in or out. I notice lights once in a rare while. Anyway BigSale Market is attached to the other side, filling the rest of the block, and it's the reason I pass this tree and its forlorn yet brilliantly green yard. Couple times a week used to, but now with this plague it's once a week or longer. Nothing's changed in that small yard though. The tree seems to be flourishing. I wonder what goes on inside that mysterious building? </p>
<p> I have been mildly curious about this building ever since I became friends with the tree a couple years ago. I didn't really notice the grass until last winter when we had all that snow. I was suddenly shocked one day as I passed to see this quite healthy and robust green grass growing between the mounds of melting snow. All other grassy spots were brown or a sickly green. I realized this grass was always green. Ever since then I've been more and more curious about this constantly brilliant green grass and the mysterious building beside it. </p>
<p> One day my curiosity was piqued when I saw a light behind a second floor window. Something's in there. I continued to the curtained front. The main door was set back and curtained, all the windows were heavily draped and it was very dark inside. As I stood watching the curtain parted slightly on one side and I saw a green eye stare at me before it quickly disappeared behind the curtain. I stepped forward and knocked lightly on the wood part of the door. No answer. No response of any sort, just silence. I knocked louder, feeling a curious urgency. The curtain on the right side fluttered a little but otherwise, no response. I tapped on the glass and after a minute or two, controlling my impulse to bang on the glass I turned and resumed walking toward BigSale Market. I was shocked by the intensity of feeling I'd had, like I had to know, I absolutely had to know what was going on in that building. Where did that compulsion come from? I'd thought I was just mildly curious. But then again, that green eye was not like any other eye I'd ever seen. Might've been the dim light but that eye sure seemed to have been green with just a black diamond in the center and it sure seemed to be emanating fear. </p>
<p> I ignored the building returning home and it was a week before I passed that way again. I was determined not to stop at the building or even to stare at the green grass, rather I'd walk briskly past, attending to my business. I stared nonetheless, amazed at the lawn's mid-summer lushness but looked away as I passed the front, then jerked back, solidly surprised to see a business operating inside. It was the big neon sign in the window that caught my attention. Cholley's Clams it said in vibrant purple-red. Below that was a black print sign saying, Coffee available – walk in now. Get sum! was handwritten, probably with a felt marker after that. I love coffee and a cup sounded fine so I pushed the door open and entered. </p>
<p> A pert young woman sat behind a desk smiling brightly at me, “Yes, mam? What would you like?” </p>
<p> The room was quite large and, except for her and her desk, empty. It felt airy. I looked up to see the ceiling was at least three floors above. Her desk was bare. Completely rattled, I stuttered, “Oh! Is this the uh . . .?” </p>
<p> “Cholley's Clams. Cholley's Clams, best in the west, but you want coffee.” She pulled open a side drawer and pulled out a steaming cup of coffee. “Three creams just the way you like it.” </p>
<p> I was stunned, “How'd you . . .?” </p>
<p> “That'll be a buck,” she smiled brightly. </p>
<p> I fumbled with my bag, found a dollar, and set it on the desk, then somehow, I was back in the street. The coffee was delicious and I sipped it contentedly standing in front of BigSale Market. I had a great time shopping, feeling a peculiar buoyancy and energy, my mind more focused than I can remember. When I returned home, I passed an old red brick building that I remember being curious about once. I couldn't remember what had sparked my interest anymore, it seemed quite unimportant now and I strolled easily past. The grass on the side was brown like always. I had more important stuff going on, like finding that fabulous coffee shop I stumbled on last week. I'm sure it's somewhere in this area. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/65118492021-01-01T16:30:06-07:002021-01-01T16:30:06-07:00The Dog Tales #8, A Swell Guy - By Lillow Mi<p> Spike loved living on the Farm even as the compelling pulls of Sugfissel, the multi-dimensional being of whom Spike is purportedly a part, tugged at him to explore the world, see new places, new dimensions and seek new opportunities. Even with these things pulling, Spike loved the Farm and loved staying put. He'd been off adventuring with Lillow on Clarabelle, Holy Boat, and now he was back and glad of it, settled in, the adventure done and no more calling. He hoped anyway, because he really felt that his adventuring days were over and thank goodness for that, he'd think, whenever he thought of it. </p>
<p> “Yip, yip yip!” a sharp voice announced. </p>
<p> Spike, who'd been lying in the early spring sunlight with his eyes closed, swatted at the sound, like a at a fly, then rolled over away from it. </p>
<p> “Yip! Yip! Yip!” the sharp, now angry voice repeated with more emphasis. Spike opened one eye and looked, then opened both and sat up, disconcerted at the sight of a small, I mean small like a Mouse, creature that was . . . Spike's eyes grew round, attached to a leash that was stretched taut as the Mouse, er, thing attempted to lunge at him, snarling and yapping. He followed the leash upward and arrived at a another disconcerting sight, a Darnalong, who fluttered her eyes at him disdainfully behind bright red cat-eye sunglasses. </p>
<p> He recognized Windy from the Clarabelle, Holy Boat, and asked, “Hi Windy, uh, what is that? And why's it snarling at me?” </p>
<p> Windy tugged at the leash and, with an angry look, the little thing subsided. “Oh, it's you Spike,” she said. “Yes, well this is my companion and certified pet Vladimir Tepesh, but you can just call him Vladdy, like I do.” Spike looked at the little thing who's sinister smile showed two large fangs and who's hungry eyes bore into him. There was a low growl, barely perceptible and Spike backed up. </p>
<p> “That's your pet?” Spike asked, amazed at the snarling, nasty little thing that was again straining its leash to get at him. </p>
<p> “Oh, you'll love him as soon as you get to know him,” Windy said, letting Vladdy get a little closer to Spike who backed up again. </p>
<p> “Get to know him?” Spike asked, wondering why anyone would want to get to know that little ball of spitting spite. </p>
<p> “Why yes . . .” Windy began, just as Rover walked up. Rover took one look at the snarling little thing, who seemed unintimidated by the presence of two much, much larger Dogs, and said “ROWF!!” so loud that Spike backed up again, but more importantly Vladdy jumped back and with a whimper and </p>
<p>a frightened expression, hid behind Windy. </p>
<p> Windy seemed indignant, “I don't know why that keeps happening to you Vladdy! Gosh, Rover, why'd you do that?” </p>
<p> Rover was watching the thing with distaste, “Dunno, just seemed right. What is it?” </p>
<p> “Well, like I already said, this is my companion and certified pet Vladimir Tepesh. Vladdy, I call him.” Rover blinked, his disdain perhaps more apparent. Windy continued, “Why this is the sweetest little thing that . . .” </p>
<p> “Yeah, okay,” Spike growled, “but what is it?” </p>
<p> Windy stopped with a confused look. “Well! I must say,” now she looked angry, “I just don't see how that makes any kind of difference Spike! I mean lookit you! What's this Sugfissel thing about? Huh? Huh?” Spike's eyes got round. </p>
<p> Rover spoke,”She's got a good point Spike.” Spike looked at Rover with disbelief. </p>
<p> “Don't see anybody with a leash on anymore,” Alley remarked, strolling over from somewhere else. “Not here on the Farm, anyway.” He sat and eyed the thing with wariness. </p>
<p> “Well, Vladdy does bite,” Windy said with a smile and a pooh-pooh gesture. “But otherwise he's a swell guy.” There was a long uncomfortable silence. </p>
<p> “Okay then,” Spike finally said, looking unsure, “So, uh, hello Vladimir. Nice to meet you.” </p>
<p> Vladimir looked around Windy's leg showing his fangs in a devilish smile, “I want to eat you,” he said in a low, oddly accented voice. </p>
<p> Spike stepped back, eyes wide. Rover said, “ROWF!” in his big voice again and also backed up. </p>
<p> Windy looked down, her eyes going round. “Vladdy! Now what did I tell you?” The thing looked sheepish and squirmed a little. “Isn't he sweet though?” she gushed, smiling at them. “Except for the eating you part. Vladdy, you apologize right now.” </p>
<p> “I'm sorry,” it said, “see, I want to eat you, I mean, yes, yes, I do, but I won't, cause you know, the leash, and all,” it glanced derisively at the leash, “so,” it shrugged, “let's be friends.” </p>
<p> With a dubious look Spike, and then Rover agreed, as long as there was no physical contact and the leash stayed on. Alley just walked away swishing his tail, back to the fringes without saying a word. </p>
<p> “Well that's that!” Windy said with a happy look. “Let's go home Vladdy.” She smiled at Spike, nodded at Rover and pulling the snarling Vladdy behind, walked away. “Maybe Uncle Mavrek will take you back now, huh?” she murmured as she dragged him away, still growling and snarling and stretching his leash tight. </p>
<p> “The thing doesn't have much charm, does it?” Spike asked, watching them go with a frown. He looked at Rover, “Windy thinks it's good.” </p>
<p> Rover huffed. “I think 'good' might have different meanings, depending on what end of the leash you're on,” he said, plopping down, watching Windy and Vladdy depart. Spike gave him a thoughtful look but remained silent. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/65118482021-01-01T16:29:22-07:002021-01-01T16:29:22-07:00The Dog Tales #7, At The Howl - By Lillow Mi<p> Sweet Loretta loved going to salons, getting a shampoo and blow dry with creative styling, having her nails done then her back massaged and finally misted in heavenly scented spray derived from real flowers. Then she liked to visit the Doggie Donut Den and enjoy a delicious bacon flavored fritter with a saucer of high quality toilet water. Sweet Loretta was, in fact, a bon vivant, and Spike her unknowing suitor. Spike's intentions for visiting were always gastronomical while Sweet Loretta's for receiving him, and his dubious associates, were amorous. </p>
<p> Today was a special full moon howl night and excitement was high. Everyone who is anyone will be there. Sweet Loretta had her hair and nails done, her bacon flavored fritter and toilet water consumed, and her spirits high as she entered Gladstar Farm through the main gate. She felt safer as soon as she entered as well, because she was safer, and that made her smile wider. When she was by the Golly Orchard Fido came bounding by. </p>
<p> “Heyyy Sweet Loretta!” he called out as he bounded by. Sweet Loretta was startled by his sudden appearance and watched befuddled as he grinned back at her without even slowing. </p>
<p> With a shake of her head she continued on past the Golly Orchard then turned right, going cross-country to the back of the manor. She could see Spike and Rover at their usual places chatting and letting loose a few practice howls now and then, waiting until the actual howl started. Father Sun was just dropping below the horizon and darkness was descending. </p>
<p> “Sweet Loretta!” Spike barked as soon as he saw her. “Welcome! Gosh it's grand to have you here!” He swelled his massive Bulldog chest and grinned as he trotted over for their traditional sniffing and tail-wagging ritual. </p>
<p> “Thanks, Spike! Gladda be here!” she woofed. </p>
<p> “This is the big one, you know,” he said, looking important. “Yep, the Full Moon. Worshiped by howlers for millions of years and tonight we see her right here, real and big, and we howl!” </p>
<p> Sweet Loretta felt a shiver of excitement mixed with awe pass through her body. She looked to the horizon where the earth's single moon would soon appear, becoming the brightest thing in the night sky. The stuff of dreams and a call to the savage howl within that erupts at its sight. She glanced around, seeing Rover watching them but also watching for the moon while Fido stared with wonder at the sky. </p>
<p> Alley was perched atop the fence, swishing his tail casually as he watched the horizon but yawning occasionally and glancing around disdainfully, like none of this actually impressed him. Then he'd look again at the horizon. All their eyes expressed their yearning, their love and their awe, their faces open, accepting. </p>
<p> Then, to in-drawn breaths and ahhhs, there appeared a small but rapidly growing green/blue disk whose rising brought forth howls, unconscious, instinctual, first with one then another and by the time the moon was full up the entire pack howling full bore with Alley screeching along. A veritable symphony of love and appreciation. There was, of course, thunder and lightning with a small tornado, yet through it all our blessed Luna's face shone through, bright and compelling. Spike walked Sweet Loretta home after and they sat gazing at the dawn while off in the distance they could hear Lillow and Lorna start the morning crow. This Howl will be remembered. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64948162020-12-08T19:05:07-07:002020-12-08T19:05:07-07:00Cinderella 2020 - By Lillow Mi<p> My name is Yorga Jernfeld, and I'm a retired guard from the Women's Royal Prison here in Fæirie Land. I'd heard many stories in my time there, many interesting and heartfelt stories, stories that would break your heart if you let them, but who knows if any of them were real? I think they'd say anything to get some sympathy. But there was one I remember who made me wonder. Her name was Ella and she was a model prisoner whose reticence and despondency made her very popular with the guards. She was allowed special privileges and I was her guard on a couple of her outings. Something about her . . . I don't know. Somehow her words rang true. She was quiet at first, sullen, but as she got to know me, (I was considered one of the kinder guards by the prisoners) she told me a story about the good old days, as she called them, back when Prince Charming was still charming and she'd had it all. She said they'd attended all the balls and soirees of the upper echelons of society, and they were always in constant demand. </p>
<p> “Ah, society!” she'd sing, then swirl and laugh, imagining herself back in the glow of those halcyon days. Then she'd fall over and I'd help her up to continue hobbling along on our errand. She was talkative that day, our last together, perhaps because it was a beautiful spring day. </p>
<p> “Yes, Yorgy, I just about became Queen.” She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “You ever hear the story of Cinderella?” I nodded yes. It's a common enough Fæirie tale and I supposed everyone had. She was silent for a ways, then she began talking. </p>
<p> “It was the sisters, Yorgy, the sisters that took me down,” she said with a forlorn expression. “Thought I had 'em beat when I put on that slipper and it fit, Yorgy, it fit!” I think she was proudest of that. That it fit. </p>
<p> “But wasn't it your slipper Ella?” I asked. I was beginning to wonder if she might be Cinderella, though she hadn't actually said so. “Didn't you leave it when the Fæirie Godmother only gave you 'till midnight?” </p>
<p> “That was the problem, you know, what caused all the trouble.” She sighed with a wistful look. “Wasn't enough time.” She looked at me with tragic eyes. “Can you imagine? Midnight! What party ends at midnight?” Looking down she shook her head. “They called me Cinder back then, you know. 'Cause of all the ashes and soot from my work. Those sisters. Oh, they were nasty they were.” </p>
<p> “So the slipper fit . . . ?” I prompted. </p>
<p> “Yeah it fit alright! It was a miracle in technology, that slipper. And it fit Yorgy! It fit!” </p>
<p> “And the Prince?” </p>
<p> “He asked me to marry him! Right then and there!” She laughed and her eyes glittered. “I said yes, of course. We set the date for one year from that day, as was proper for a Prince and all. And what a year it was Yorgy! During the season we made every ball, soiree and gathering that the upper classes threw, many in our honor. And for the off-season we traveled the world!” She gazed skyward with dreamy eyes. </p>
<p> “Sounds pretty wonderful Ella,” I said, smiling with her. </p>
<p> “It was . . . ” She seemed pensive and distant. “The Queen never liked me though. We never got close, nor the King,” she murmured quietly. </p>
<p> “So did you marry? What I heard was that you lived happily ever after, you know? Nothing about you actually getting married though, and I thought . . .” </p>
<p> “Do I look happy?” she snapped. She was indeed a wretched sight, broken down and feeble, while still young! Well, fairly young. I couldn't answer and she continued. “They just wanted a happy ending for the peasants, that's all. For people like us, to keep us in our place, make us think we have a chance.” Her mood turned dark and her countenance angry. We walked in silence for a ways. Then I asked again about the wedding. I couldn't help it, I was curious. Why couldn't they marry? </p>
<p> She grimaced, “There we were, a week before the wedding and in march the sisters. Evil they were Yorgy, and grinning at their malicious antics. They claimed the law stated that no crown prince could marry without the receipt of a handsome dowry from the bride's family.” She stopped and scowled. “I heard later they'd bought a few members of parliament and had the law written for them.” She looked away, “Don't know where they'd get the money though. Anyway, Chester, the Prince you know. Chester Charming. Chi-chi he used to say.” She laughed. “He'd go, 'I'm chi-chi-Charming! Chi-chi-Chester Charming!' And he was too, Yorgy! Oh, he was so charming. We laughed all the time! Always joyful together. Always.” She remained silent for a while as we walked. </p>
<p> “So you never married?” I asked. </p>
<p> “No, never. Oh Chester, my darling Chester, he said he didn't care about any stinking law, he'd made his choice and that was that.” She smiled at me. I could see the beauty still there behind the haggard lines. “But the courts sided with the sisters. Said the Prince was not free to marry anyone he wanted, especially someone from the poor side, if you know what I mean. They said he had an obligation to the Kingdom to uphold his station which meant, pretty much, that he must marry someone of his social standing. Someone of his class. That's wealth and power Yorgy.” </p>
<p> With a resigned look she continued, “He was the only heir you know. The only son yet he offered to renounce his Prince status and marry me as a commoner.” Now she looked sad and bitter. “That's when those people started to appear, people I didn't know, and they began accusing me of crimes, Yorgy, horrible crimes. Neither Chester nor I had any defense against their carefully contrived accusations and eventually they even had Chester looking at me with suspicion. Finally they locked me up so I couldn't cause them any more trouble.” She was silent for a long moment. “Somehow the sisters presented the Kingdom with a sizable dowry and Chester was forced to concede. Today he's a miserable King in a miserable marriage to a dominating Queen who, along with her sister, are the true rulers here. Everyone knows it.” She scowled. “While I languish in prison.” She paused, then whispered, “All for greed Yorgy. All for gold and power.” </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64948152020-12-08T19:04:27-07:002020-12-08T19:04:27-07:00At The Emergent Sea - By Lillow Mi<p> There was a gnarly old tree growing down on the bottom. It was difficult to tell what it was the bottom of, but you could tell it was the bottom. You could also tell that the gnarly old tree was old. Maybe older than anything living. Maybe much, much older, but who could say? </p>
<p> We'd been traveling for days to get here. We started by going to Bluff, which is a strong potentiality point that semi-exists between certain dimensional structures that . . . okay, that's not very clear, I can see that. Let's see, how about it's a place between the realms of magic and the great unknown? Yeah, that seems reasonable, as long as you remember that the great unknown has many layers. You know, the first layers you might just zap through thinking about stuff, then, if you've a mind, a few layers more are discovered with some mindfulness, calm and reflective meditations. You begin to notice that each layer of understanding is becoming more beautiful and astonishing even as they become more difficult to attain. Many layers have layers of their own that baffle and amaze. It takes lots of work to get to Bluff even though it's just sideways from here. It's all pretty subtle. </p>
<p> Once you're in Bluff it's easy to get sidetracked and we are wary. We pass a restaurant we like and heavenly smells are wafting around in front of us but we persevere, remembering the importance of our mission. Hatred, greed and lies have brought the mythical world to its knees and even the magical realms are threatened. We must continue. We pass the Witch's Council, then the Kerfuffle and finally the local office of the Akashic Records, each beckoning, pulling at us in its own way. We continue resolutely and now we step into the Weird. We are floating in some sort of thick air, air that you can easily breathe and move around in yet feels like being in water. I know this to be the membrane that surrounds the Cosmic Ocean where the dreamer sleeps, but that is not our goal as we would not be able to return from that place. I steer us toward a giant lotus looking platform and we settle easily onto it. There is creation emerging in unlimited waves from everywhere on this green platform, waves that match the waves underneath, pulsing and radiating outward. This unlimited potential flows upward until it emerges into the world of ideas. This is what we call the Emergent Sea. </p>
<p> The gnarly tree regards us as we regard it, of this I am sure. We are getting close I think, but too, I know the tree to be massive beyond reckoning. The air is thick yet easy to breathe. Sometimes when Ishmael speaks, I see little bubbles coming from his mouth that float slowly upward. I start to laugh but stop, realizing that to do so would release bubbles from my own mouth that have built up. Then I let them go, slowly, watching in wonder as they float past my face. With a tinge of fear I breathe in but the air is fine. I can see faint swirls in the air as Treywiz strides forcefully on, his cape flowing in the currents. We are all easy to laugh, feeling a peculiar buoyancy, perhaps due to the thick air but more likely due to the joy-filled love that is pouring over us in waves. It is a silent sound that's flying out of the om song and thrumming in the deepest tones you can imagine, then deeper, while soaring to the highest tones you can imagine, then higher, humming together, all together low and high and in between but each voice distinct, each voice heard when it begins and each voice heard when it ends, the om song continues no matter what, perhaps forever. </p>
<p> Finally we stand before the gnarly old tree, feeling its ancient beauty and grace while knowing that we could not see all of it, not all at once anyway, maybe never. Somehow, we understood that humanity's voice, which includes all the voices of magic, could decrease a lot, or even cease yet the om song would continue unabated. It would be different and many new voices would appear to fill the empty niches we'd leave behind but it would continue, nonetheless. Today's quarrels and wars mean nothing to the movement of time except perhaps to add grief and woe to the experience, neither of which is necessary. You do not need darkness to appreciate light nor do you need struggle to be strong, rather what is needed is joy, appreciation, and lots of love because the Emergent Sea will always provide. </p>
<p>The Emergent Sea </p>
<p>Part Three: Going Home </p>
<p> There has always been a meadow and there will always be a meadow. Even when the world is gone to dust the meadow's particular loving energy will endure. Our return from the Emergent Sea was peaceful and kind. We went first to our meadow's living room in front of Holly's Palatial Estate where we spread out on the chairs and couches. Kindness. Loving kindness is what the Emergent Sea has taught us because nothing else matters. </p>
<p> We have our beautiful earth to protect and nurture, our Mother Gaia, who is blessed by Father Sun, and this is where we will find peace and love or war and hell. It is always our choice, even when the monsters have us against the wall, it is our choice. Just following orders is an invalid response to atrocity, as is fear, because they are complicity. Here's the bottom line choices for all foundations: Love or Hate. All subsequent choices will then have their basis in and be colored by one or the other. Here, on this farm and in this meadow, we choose Love. </p>
<p> Spike and Rover, along with Ishmael, Lorna and Ishytoo, have gone to the Howling Wall to prepare, because tonight we will howl for love, justice, and the well-being of all people. The Moon and the Stars will bear witness to our resolve, knowing that tonight we vow to fight no more forever. </p>
<p> Sweet Loretta has come, howling for all the puppies and their mamas, along with Fido who has come bounding from over there to howl for them guys. We howl for freedom and equality for all. Here there is room for all and there is sustenance. I see Mother Moon smiling down on our efforts because she feels our resolve as we howl like we have never howled before. Lightning flashes and the winds scream around us, all standing tall and proud. </p>
<p> The next morning there is a mist over the meadow, overcast and sullen with a rainbow showing where Father Sun has peeked through. I like this rainy smell when the season is new and sniff contentedly as I stroll across the wet grass toward Holly's Palatial Estate where our chairs and tables have been set under its broad awning, providing a dry and protected spot in which to enjoy the farm's perennial favorite, tea and biscuits, while watching the rain. The rain is beloved in these environs and it is nice to admire it from a dry perspective. </p>
<p> We have all accepted our roles as doers of anonymous good. We are committed to random acts of kindness. We do not fight evil, rather with love we show its failings. We spread a quiet sense of peace and loving kindness that allows for the possibility of a better world. But do not mistake our loving kindness for passivity. We are steadfast defenders as well, defending innocent goodness in all its myriad forms. This is called resistance. It is through love and resistance that we will base our actions. </p>
<p> I keep trying to get back to the garden, well the meadow actually but I really like that phrase 'back to the garden.' Sounds epic, doesn't it? In any case I continue to try to recapture those halcyon days when adventure was around each corner or through each door or . . . well, it was just there, wherever. Now there is a vile cloud that haunts us, created by a despicable man complete with evil minions who haunt the well-being of my family and my friends and their families. His intention to hurt us is unmistakable. This is damn creepy. </p>
<p> Having said that, I know the meadow is our only answer to these atrocities. It's all we can do to somehow put love back into the equation. We send you all love and appreciation. Together we can get through this disgraceful national nightmare. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64746112020-11-10T19:32:56-07:002021-10-05T10:28:51-07:00The Emergent Sea, Part one: Again - By Lillow Mi<p> There has always been a fascinating allure to our meadow, itself more than just an assemblage of grass, flowers, shrubs, and trees, all a buzz with an incredible assortment of fauna, Fæiries and other curious beings. It seems more than all that, somehow more. It is primarily the magic of all these parts together that makes it so amazing but there's one more thing necessary to attain our meadow's level of creative perfection and that is location. Where it sits in the Universe. Not every spot can do this level of magic nor do a lot of the spots that can, do. When the rider said, “Can do,” it was understood to be in that spot particularly wherein it could be done. Couldn't be done in a swamp somewhere, pretty sure. </p>
<p> Anyway, this particular meadow said can do and did and there you go, a meadow of epic potential. We exist near the edge of its potentiality but manage to bask in it nonetheless, while drawing what we can of its magic. The muses walk through here naked and even the flowers move to the rhythms of a silent sound. We are seated beneath a Bodhi tree and occasional wafts of flower petals shower down from heaven. Holly, the meadow's loving mistress has served us tea and biscuits, the preferred treat of the meadow and we are jovial, luxuriating in the warmth of Father Sun, unaware of the passage of time. </p>
<p> This is, of course, where the action would begin, normally. Someone would arrive, say Windy for example, and deliver some sort of news that would require we take some sort of action and then away we'd go! Usually. Today this did not happen, signaling, well normally signaling, a red flag alert to our otherwise cautious minds. Today this also did not happen. With no message and no signal we remained in somnolent bliss. </p>
<p> Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, the skies were filling with smoke and reverberating with the angry barks and bellows of war machines. The Orcs were leading an assault of Trolls against the cowering fabric of life after having forced the once protective polity into collapse under their corruption. The Grimn-Leapers have worked tirelessly behind the scenes helping to destroy the very society that had nurtured them, helping the shrieking Orcs and the marching Trolls bring it all down. It was almost too late when we were finally alerted. </p>
<p> I had slowly become aware of someone yelling at me in close range. Very close and my eyes shot open. Shaguti stood staring at me with that shocked look people get when they're shocked. </p>
<p> “Oh, uh, Shaguti. Gosh, uh . . .” I muttered, terribly disoriented, like I'd been awakened from a deep sleep. I was confused about where I was but could see chairs, like in the meadow, and the other Vanara waking the people slouched in them. I saw Ishmael sit up and shake his head. I looked at Shaguti. </p>
<p> “You have been mesmerized Lillow,” he said with a grimace. “A giant bubble was put over all of you! You were totally cut off until we got here.” </p>
<p> “Hadda break through the bubble,” Véebrishar added, walking up. </p>
<p> “Tough bubble too. Well made, took us hours,” Shaguti murmured. </p>
<p> “Meanwhile the Trolls are attacking and society is collapsing,” Véebrishar announced just as Ishmael and Jango arrived. </p>
<p> “Collapsing? Did I hear right?” Ishmael asked. “We're under attack?” </p>
<p> “I'm just now hearing about it,” I told him. “We were mesmerized, Ishmael.” </p>
<p> “Yes, we're under attack,” Shaguti confirmed gravely, while everyone else gathered closely around, staring in disbelief and horror. “Mesmerized, then attacked.” He paused, looking around at everyone, their eyes round and fearful. Then, looking at me he whispered, “The barbarians are at the gate.” </p>
<p> We knew what we had to do. It was time to visit the Emergent Sea. </p>
<p>Next, Part Two: At The Emergent Sea</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64746102020-11-10T19:31:54-07:002020-11-10T19:31:54-07:00The Dog Tales #6, You're Always Welcome Here - By Lillow Mi<p> Tadfast Chop, herself a Dog of the Chihuahua persuasion, could not help but view the antics of Spike and his gang with mild trepidation. They were all denizens of Gladstar Farm but with different duties requiring different skills which gave a higher status to some, within the manor at least, or so Tadfast liked to believe. As head chef, in charge of a constantly bustling kitchen and a staff of hundreds, possibly millions, depending on the season, she was of clear importance, while Spike and that scruffy gang of his, well, not so much. Little of value that she could see, she mused, shaking her head, and smiling wryly. She thought of Rover, a ne'er-do-well living in Holly's Palatial Estate next door to Jack Ass, the meadow's keeper. Now Jack's doing a skillful job deserving of merit, she thought with a smile. But that Rover? Just a gangly brown-haired hound with big floppy ears and a serious expression. Vacant was how she saw it but everyone else called it serious, so whatever. She shrugged both mentally and physically. And how about that dandy Fido? She smiled as she began chopping a large pile of vegetables. Good looking guy who doesn't seem as disreputable as the others but still, a rather cavalier sort. And Alley! Do they even know he's not a Dog? They make so much racket with their howling who could tell? Why the Witches had to put up a magic noise blocker that sent their howls into outer space, but she doubted the Dogs knew about that. Tadfast had to laugh thinking of it. Despite everything, she loved that gang. </p>
<p> While Tadfast was ruminating about the Bulldog gang's indiscretions, Spike was himself embarking on a new mission with his friend Rover. He'd promised to show Fido their magical kitchen or cornucopia as Spike liked to think of it and Rover was glad to join him. Alley had been poking about and now surreptitiously joined them. Neither would have been surprised had they noticed. </p>
<p> They were about halfway across the meadow, the usual arrival point of Fido who normally came bounding across from wherever he came bounding from to here, right here usually, except that today, Fido, in fact, did not come bounding. Spike stopped abruptly while Rover continued, glancing back curiously before slowly coming to a stop. He did not turn around but rather twisted his head around to watch Spike. </p>
<p> “Where's Fido?” Spike asked, looking around. He assumed no one knew when no one answered and sat down to think about it. “So which way does he come bounding from?” he finally asked Rover but included Alley by glancing at him. </p>
<p> Rover looked around, then turned around and sat, facing Spike. “Seems like off thataway,” he said, waving with his nose to the east. </p>
<p> “Yeah thataway,” Alley said with uncertainty. “Pretty sure,” he added. </p>
<p> Spike growled low like he does and looked to the east. There was a broad expanse of meadow and beyond that were trees that marked the beginning of the forest where the eastern perimeter trail ran. Probably where Fido would be coming from, hopefully anyway, because beyond that was the Glamoury Wall, which he remembered vaguely from when he'd first arrived on the farm, having passed through it, but since then he'd heard terrible things, things he believed despite having passed easily through it before. “Thataway, huh?” he asked. </p>
<p> “Pretty sure,” Rover answered. </p>
<p> They were stopped on their quest to visit Tadfast Chop who, perhaps for that very reason, had been thinking of them. Spike and Rover had hopes of fresh baked Dog biscuits while Alley hoped for a bowl of cream. Now, however, their plans had gone awry, all because today was also the day that Spike had promised to show Fido their treasure producing kitchen, only Fido was not here. </p>
<p> Spike continued to growl low and glance nervously to the east. “Well, there's nothing for it then. Let's go pick him up,” Spike snarled, starting to walk resolutely eastward. </p>
<p> Rover looked askance at this and said, “You know, now 'at I think on it, seems like he comes from thataway.” He nodded his nose toward Tadfast's kitchen to the west. </p>
<p> Spike stopped and looked back. “Thataway?” he asked. </p>
<p> “Seems like it,” Rover said, looking at the ground. </p>
<p> Alley, who had gone trotting ahead of Spike, turned back, and yelled, “No, you said this away!” </p>
<p> Spike looked back and forth between them with a darker look each time. Then, as he sat fuming, Alley sat waiting and Rover sat sitting, a figure appeared from the north, leaving the main drive by the Golly Orchard, and bounding their way. It was, of course, Fido. </p>
<p> “Hey guys!” he called as he neared. “Thanks for waiting for me. Gosh, running late today and I'm so excited to meet Tadfast and her magical kitchen that, well, things came up! Wouldn't you know it?” </p>
<p> “You would,” Alley agreed, strolling over. Then with a wink at Rover, “We didn't mind waiting though. Gooda see you!” </p>
<p> “Righto then,” Rover barked, “Let's do it!” He turned and led the way to Tadfast's kitchen with a bemused Spike following. </p>
<p> Spike felt a lot better when Tadfast, smiling indulgently, presented them with a large bowl of freshly baked biscuits and Alley with a large saucer of cream. </p>
<p> “Wow, this is even better than Sweet Loretta's,” Fido enthused. “Thanks Tadfast!” </p>
<p> “You can call me Taddy like the others do Fido. You're always welcome here.” </p>
<p> Rover and Spike beamed at their friend as Alley lapped up cream.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64505472020-10-06T17:41:12-07:002020-10-06T17:41:12-07:00The Dog Tales #5, New Things - By Lillow Mi<p> The Dog Tales # 5 - New Things </p>
<p>by Lillow M. Gladstar </p>
<p>New things appear like donuts and donkeys, </p>
<p>new things all gather wherever they may. </p>
<p>It's a tall tale but listen, I don't really do this, </p>
<p>it's just that these new things have got in my way. </p>
<p> “And that's another one!” Spike growled, walking down the path. </p>
<p> “Huh? Whazzat?” Alley asked, looking back. </p>
<p> “That new thing! Didn't you see it?” </p>
<p> Alley stopped and peered back, “No, I don't see anything unusual. Is it those flowers? They're new.” </p>
<p> “Yeah,” Spike barked. “We hadda walk around them!” He stopped and turned, glaring at the flowers. “See there? Last week we came this way and walked right on through. This week we gotta walk around!” </p>
<p> “Didn't bother me none,” Rover murmured from where he stood a few paces beyond Spike looking back. </p>
<p> “Gosh, those flowers are pretty,” Alley purred, walking toward them. Then he bent over and ate one. “Mmmm, pretty and tasty too!” </p>
<p> “Bah!” Spike growled as he turned and resumed walking. </p>
<p> Just then Fido came bounding over from wherever he comes from. “Hey guys!” he called out. “Wassup?” </p>
<p> Spike looked at him, “Oh hey Fido. Not much. We're just going to visit Sweet Loretta.” </p>
<p> “She got her hair done,” Alley said, rejoining the group. </p>
<p> “That so?” Fido said with a smile. “Mind if I join you?” </p>
<p> “Whatever,” Spike growled. </p>
<p> “Yeah, c'mon,” Rover said, grinning. “She serves the best Dog biscuits in town.” </p>
<p> “Thanks, I will!” Fido said, joining them. </p>
<p> “That's what broke us up, you know,” Alley said quietly, slipping up beside Fido. </p>
<p> “Huh? Broke what up?” Fido asked. </p>
<p> “Our group, the Doggone Three that's what. Best howling quartet in the county. And it was them Dog biscuits that done it,” he answered. “Those infernal Dog biscuits were everywhere! Wait'll you see sweet Loretta's spread, you'll see what I mean.” Then he took off across the meadow chasing what looked like a Fæirie flittering around in a teasing manner. </p>
<p> Spike grunted watching him go, Rover continued ambling in his usual lethargic manor and Fido fell in behind, wearing a thoughtful expression. </p>
<p> Alley rejoined them as they passed through the front gate and into the mythical world. They knew to be very careful in the mythical world as there were catchers that grab people and imprison them for no other reason than walking without a Human. The mythical realms were frightening. Fortunately Sweet Loretta's place was near and they made the journey with no mishaps. </p>
<p> Sweet Loretta was sitting in front of a small cabin her Humans had made for her in a small meadow. Spike liked the small meadow even though it was completely contained by wooden fences, except for the crack where his group slipped through of course. Spike felt safe there, perhaps because of the fences. It was behind a Human home and Sweet Loretta was kept well provisioned by the Humans who otherwise pretty much left her alone. Left to her own devices you could say. Anyway Sweet Loretta had a sweet set-up and Spike usually enjoyed visiting. </p>
<p> There were several leafy trees and a few mad Squirrels that Alley liked to chase in the small meadow. He said he'd never actually catch one, it was just the thrill of the chase, so to speak. Rover plopped down in some grassy shade with Fido nearby while Spike and Sweet Loretta sniffed each other's . . . well, you know how Dog's do. They were both tail wagging happy to see each other. Alley snorted disdainfully at the full bowl of Dog biscuits then strolled off to the meadow's far side where he knew the Squirrels hung out. </p>
<p> “Hey, gooda see you guys!” Sweet Loretta said, grinning wide. “Help yourselves to the biscuits!” Alley looked at her with disbelief while finding his hiding spot by the fence but Spike grinned as he grabbed a couple. </p>
<p> “Mmm, good,” he mumbled through his crunching. </p>
<p> “So whadya think of my new do?” Sweet Loretta asked, strutting around. She was a Poodle and there were large balls of fur left on her head, her feet and tail. </p>
<p> “That's all done?” Spike asked incredulously. </p>
<p> Fido's eyes got round and Rover sat up, both watching with concerned looks. Alley snickered but said nothing. </p>
<p> “Well, yes!” Sweet Loretta said with a scowl. “It's the newest craze, pretty sure.” Now she had a dreamy smile, “Anyway I feel sexy.” She looked at Spike with lowered, fluttering eyes. </p>
<p> Spike reared his head back with eyes wide, “Uh sure, yeah, that's a real nice haircut, uh huh, real nice.” </p>
<p> “Real nice,” Rover echoed. </p>
<p> “Uh-huh, nice,” Fido repeated, eyeing the Dog biscuits. </p>
<p> “Thanks!” Sweet Loretta said with her dreamy smile. “I do feel pretty.” </p>
<p> “Real purty,” Rover echoed. Spike gave him a questioning look, but Rover didn't look back. Instead he ambled over to the bowl and began munching. Eating was his superpower after all. Fido, realizing the Dog biscuit options were dwindling, quickly joined him. </p>
<p> Alley jumped out of hiding at a Squirrel who chattered and squeaked, not really saying anything, while running furiously across the grass and up a tree. Curiously most of the fauna in the mythical world cannot speak, including Dogs and Cats. That's why Spike and Rover like Sweet Loretta so much, because she can talk, and howl, plus the Dog biscuits of course. </p>
<p> Sweet Loretta smiled at Spike. Now he could smell the sickly-sweet scents that the barber had sprinkled on her. He backed up, looking over at Rover and Fido who were munching contentedly. </p>
<p> “Well gosh, Sweet Loretta,” Spike said, looking at her then backing up some more. “We just wanted to invite you to the howl tonight. Waxing moon you know, gettin' big,” he looked over at Rover, “So, uh, com'on you guys, we got business to attend to. Thanks Sweet Loretta. See ya tonight!” He began walking toward the fence opening. </p>
<p> Rover grabbed another mouthful of biscuits and followed, “Thags for da bithcuts, you look good!” Fido smiled and nodded agreement, unable to speak with his mouth full, as he trailed Rover. </p>
<p> “Yeah real pretty,” Spike said looking back, “really. Pretty.” Then looking forward and continuing on he muttered quietly, “And new.” </p>
<p> “Thanks, honey,” Alley called to Sweet Loretta, who was watching their departure wryly. “You look gorgeous!” The Squirrel chattered angrily from high in a tree.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64505452020-10-06T17:40:35-07:002020-10-06T17:40:35-07:00The Clarabelle Rangers, Investigation #45 - By Lillow Mi<p>I've been adventuring with a group of heroes called the Clarabelle Rangers, based out of the ancient spaceship Clarabelle – Holy Boat. The Rangers are led by Treywiz, a wizard, and include me, Ishmael, Spike, Dimitri the Pteronodon and Véebrishar, Jango and Shaguti who are three Monkeys of the ancient Vanara. Here's our recent adventure in the nearby mythical realm. </p>
<p>The Clarabelle Rangers: Investigation #45 </p>
<p>by Lillow Mi Gladstar </p>
<p> The Rangers are investigating curious mental derangements leading to dystopian dictatorships. Many of the afflicted are not discernible at first glance or even at second or third glance. The way to know them is to let them gather to don and display their angry masks, but that carries risks. We have identified three main types though they are overlapping a lot of the time. With each type we have given the name we know them by in the magical realms. </p>
<p> The easiest to identify are the orange-sky flyers because they are always heavily armed. The orange-sky flyers are chaos incarnate. Their berserker rage is unfathomable and extremely dangerous. An orange-skied post-apocalyptic wasteland is their goal, although many of them don't know or care enough to know, it is, nonetheless an orange-skied wasteland that they strive for. They are ready to infiltrate any group to achieve these ends. These we call Orcs. </p>
<p> Another mental derangement that works toward dystopian dictatorships is the religious fanatic. Those whose leap of faith causes them to judge, slander and demean those they deem irreligious or worse, serving a false god (any god except theirs). They demand that all, regardless of faith, serve and obey their god and his rules, as they interpret them. Seeing themselves as the superior chosen people they oppress those whose color, social status, or lifestyle they detest based on something their god probably said once, claiming their god requires them to take action or he'll smite everybody. Action that, coming from god, their god, is seen as necessary (to prevent mass smiting) no matter how cruel or unusual, for the greater good of all. Except little if any good ever emerges from their machinations. These we call Grimn-Leapers. </p>
<p> Yet another derangement is the leader fixation of those whose minds are gone from rage and hate, seeking any revenge to assuage their guilt, awash in the Grimn-Leaper delusion, especially its skin color fantasy. They attach themselves firmly to their perception of a strong-armed father/leader who will tell the world how great they are and they will obey him blindly, undermining any who oppose. These we call Trolls. </p>
<p> We have been investigating these horrors because our neighbors in the mythical realms are in serious danger of falling under their sway. This would be hurtful to all realms. Projection, lies, and fear are how the madness is promoted and many with undeveloped thinking skills listen. We are concerned about magic's efficacy against this encroaching evil. </p>
<p> Today this big old place nearby seems to be suffering from a Grimn-Leaper and Troll invasion along with Orcs making raid-like runs through every so often, like they been doing all year. We don't believe most of them actually nest here but, because of the loving and accepting ways of those who do nest here, these creatures feel they must come and disrupt them. They don't like the foreigners these locals let in plus they don't like how they try to help them poor folk or how they try to help anybody for that matter. They just don't like people helping people. It's so that everyone can get really tough, like they are or at least like they'd be if you couldn't see them. They are hard to see but their presence is felt, and nobody gets anything for free, ever, but you can charge it if you don't have the cash. The whole thing smells bad and we approach slowly. </p>
<p> Treywiz, our expedition leader, takes the three Vanara around side trails, circling behind while I stay hidden with Dimitri, Ishmael, and Spike, watching the infernal gathering. There are about three hundred Trolls with Grimn-Leapers mixed in occupying the big old place. The occasional Orc is spotted, heavily armed and angry, ordering the Trolls about while the Grimn-Leapers nod agreement. We stay hidden awaiting Trewiz's signal. </p>
<p> Soon I see the Vanara in the distance. They have become huge, bigger than elephants, and wear fierce expressions as they march toward the Trolls who are backing up nervously. Véebrishar, Jango and Shaguti, the three Monkeys who are the Vanara are from an ancient race of noble Monkeys who fight evil with their magical powers. Now they roared and many of the Trolls turned to flee, only to find Dimitri the Pteronodon with his wings spread wide and howling raucously at them. They turned to the side and I was there with Ishmael and Spike and we were barking but the terrified Trolls, Grimn-Leapers and Orcs would have trampled us so we jumped out of the way. Kept barking though. Some of the Orcs started shooting their guns and rockets and a few Trolls dropped. We felt bad about that but at least they were going away and took the fallen with them. </p>
<p> When they were all gone the Fæiries and Elves came and started helping us try to get the smell out. Forest nymphs and many of the fauna helped too because the smell was pretty awful. Our suspicions that most the delusional dystopians did not nest here was confirmed when all but a few fled to another state. The few that were left here scurried and hid but we weren't interested in revenge. It was the multitude that existed in other states that was our concern. We knew they would not give us peace.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64345822020-09-15T18:08:12-07:002023-12-10T09:33:20-07:00A Taradiddle: The Dog Tales #4 - By Lillow Mi<p>Howlers Will Howl </p>
<p> It was a dark and stormy night and the moon was full. Spike was out back howling with Alley and his friend Rover when Fido first arrived. Fido appeared between lightning flashes and seemed to glow in the light of the moon, whenever it showed through the violently roiling clouds. You could hear banshees and angry ghosts wailing all around, like being inside a tornado. Spike loved this kind of weather and stood tall, his long Sugfissel tail flapping in the wind, howling with raucous gusto. Alley, who usually sat on top of the wall for these howlfests now sat in a protected spot against it, keeping out of the wind, watching, and adding a yowl from time to time. Being a black Cat he was somewhat difficult to see but you could hear him okay. Rover stood baying his soulful renditions beside and a little back from Spike, keeping his eyes closed against the wind but opening them wide whenever a lightning flash occurred. It was amazing! But all that glorious symphonic howling stopped when Fido appeared. Even the wind stopped and a lightning flash fizzled out halfway down. Now the full moon showed her face, thrusting the simpering clouds aside and making Fido really glow. </p>
<p> “Hello,” Fido said quietly. He could be heard now that all the racket, er symphonic harmonies have quieted. </p>
<p> Spike, who'd been leaning into the wind, had fallen over when it quit and was now standing up brushing himself off. He was scowling but stopped when he saw how much Fido was glowing. “Who're you?” he asked. Then looking around, “And what happened to our storm?” </p>
<p> Fido smiled. He was a small unassuming Dog of Scottish descent and his smile was engaging. “I'm Fido from beyond way over there and I couldn't help but notice your storm and its curious sounds.” He looked around. “It's a calm moonlit night everywhere but here, yet you're all howling up a storm. I just had to look. Why was it stormy?” </p>
<p> Spike shrugged, “I dunno. Just seems to happen when we howl.” </p>
<p> “It's part of our charm,” Alley added from the darkness. </p>
<p> “How come you glow?” Rover asked. </p>
<p> “It's part of my charm,” Fido answered smiling, “but really, I don't know. Maybe we all glow in moon light?” </p>
<p> “Wow, that's cool!” Alley said, sticking his paw out into the moonlight and watching it glow. </p>
<p> “Yeah, guesso,” Spike said sadly as the clouds dissipated. “But can ya howl?” </p>
<p> Fido smiled, stood tall and throwing his head back let loose a howl of flowing beauty with hints of pleading angst intermixed with joie de vivre and the triumph of victory. A soft breeze swirled around, dancing lightly to his howl while his glow seemed to increase. Everyone watched with wide eyes and gaping jaws. When he was done, he sat down and smiled. </p>
<p> “Yeah, guessat's okay,” Spike murmured with a worried look. </p>
<p> “Oh my gosh!” Alley purred, “That was fabulous! Best howl I've heard . . .” He stopped at Spike's angry look. “I mean it was swell. Not, of course, what we're used to, but uh, it was okay.” He ended with an encouraging smile. </p>
<p> Rover just watched, standing back with a concerned look. </p>
<p> “So can I join your howl?” Fido asked. </p>
<p> Alley was grinning and nodding yes as Spike answered, “Well, I dunno. We are professionals after all. Can't just take on anyone 'at comes along. I mean . . .” </p>
<p> “Sounded pretty good to me,” Rover said from the side. Spike looked over with a surprised look. “Real nice actually,” Rover continued, glancing at Alley who seemed pleasantly pleased and was nodding yes. </p>
<p> “Real nice?” Spike said quietly. He was realizing that Fido had sounded good. Real good. “Well, okay then,” he continued gruffly. “I guess you can join us.” Then he stuck his head up, “But always remember, I'm the boss. The head howler, you hear?” </p>
<p> “Of course,” Fido said, grinning wide. “You're the leader.” Spike briefly looked embarrassed but when the howl continued it was the most beautiful and least disturbing howl they'd ever done. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64345812020-09-15T18:05:56-07:002020-09-15T18:08:24-07:00Politics - By Lillow Mi<p> “There never was a solid border, you see, and that's why all the confusion, really,” Miss Mars said with a worried look. “It was just that people were going from everyday reality to magical illusion simply by walking along. No signs, you know. Nothing to let 'em know.” Inspector Widefoot nodded wisely, jotting in his notebook. “I mean you gotta warn 'em, don't ya?” she finished. </p>
<p> “Well, yeah,” a Dwarf standing behind them muttered. “'Course ya do. Jess plain common sense anyhow. I mean you coming to a rocky patch, why, you warn 'em.” Miss Mars nodded agreement. </p>
<p> Inspector Widefoot looked up from his pad, eyebrows high. “Well, yes,” he replied, smiling, “simple enough really. You just find the border, a border that is always moving as you'll recall, sometimes normal, sometimes magical and then you put up a sign.” He smiled as the Dwarf scowled and Miss Mars looked confused. </p>
<p> “Can't you just attach it to the border?” Miss Mars asked. “So that it stays wherever the border goes?” Inspector Widefoot regarded her with wide eyes that slowly became thoughtful. The Dwarf spit on the ground and walked away. </p>
<p> Inspector Widefoot jotted a note then slapped his notebook shut. “I shall look into this Miss Mars,” he said with a determined expression. They both gazed in the direction the unsuspecting traveler had gone. A confused looking duck gazed back at them. </p>
<p> That duck was a human once, strolling along on his own private business, thank you, when he stepped on something squishy. He knew immediately he had done a bad thing, a really bad thing seeing the magical border whipping around like in a windstorm so he was not terribly surprised to find himself transformed into a duck. He'd known this was disputed borderland so he should have been more careful he berated himself, but it could be worse, he thought. All he had to do was step in that pile again and it would put him right. </p>
<p> Then the magical border disappeared, off somewhere else it would seem and he was left a duck. He looked over at what he'd stepped in and saw a large dropping from some animal, likely, that was not only disgusting, but no longer magically imbued. Miss Mars gave him a sad look and with a shake of her head walked away. He wiped the muck off his foot as best he could (curious things these duck feet) then followed Inspector Widefoot back to his headquarters, wondering what he might discover. There seemed no other course available. </p>
<p> Widefoot strutted into the headquarters building like a triumphant king entering his palace. Various secretaries and junior detectives suddenly became noticeably busier. </p>
<p> “Hardly and Widefoot! Into my office,” he called as he strolled importantly through the desks of his outer office and staff. Chester Widefoot, Detective Chief Inspector Widefoot that is (boss) had been criticized for hiring his son but claimed he didn't know that Chester Widefoot Jr. was his son. He seemed surprised when the similarities of name and family resemblance were pointed out, totally ignoring the woman who claimed to be his wife and Chester Junior's mother. He told the investigators that it was all poppycock, then he waved his hands mysteriously, saying, “Nothing untoward here. No nepotism here. Look away, look away.” And the investigators did just that, so that now Detective Widefoot Jr. is an up and coming member of Chief Inspector Widefoot's staff. His parents are so proud. </p>
<p> Chief Inspector Widefoot sat at his desk, sipping the coffee that one of his secretaries had left for him and rustled papers, a practice perfected from his own rookie detective days. Junior was the first to arrive followed quickly by Detective Olive Hardly, a promising young newbie like Junior except she probably wasn't the Chief Inspector's daughter. </p>
<p> “Curious case has come up with the magical border over in the disputed lands,” Chief Inspector Widefoot started. “Got another tourist turned into an animal, duck this time, rather routine I'm afraid, but what is interesting is an idea that I had when I was looking into it.” He looked around smugly. “See, I thought, well, why don't we just attach a sign to the border so that whenever the border moved the sign would move with it.” </p>
<p> “Brilliant!” Widefoot Jr. exclaimed. </p>
<p> “Sounds plausible,” Detective Hardly muttered as she jotted in her own notebook. “I'll get the department wizards on it immediately.” She snapped her notebook shut and walked away. </p>
<p> Later at the wizard's place, after the wizards had pretty much finished laughing at her, the head wizard explained, “See here detective, this problem is millions of years old and every possible solution has been thought of and tried already, many of them two or three times.” </p>
<p> Detective Hardly looked surprised then turned and stepped away, muttering, “DCI Widefoot isn't going to like this.” </p>
<p> “That disputed border's always been a headache,” Miss Mars, who just happened to be near, uttered sadly. “Looks like it's gonna stay that way now,” she finished with a sigh. </p>
<p> “It's been a real problem in my family,” said the duck, a familiar looking, though it's hard to tell with ducks, duck who also just happened to be near. </p>
<p> “Widefoot isn't gonna like this at all,” Detective Hardly repeated with a worried look as she left the wizard's place. Miss Mars and the duck followed. When they got to headquarters Detective Hardly pushed quickly in and they stood outside wondering what would happen next. Soon Chief Inspector Widefoot appeared and seeing them he stopped. </p>
<p> Clearing his throat and looking as dignified and important as he could, he spoke, “Ahem. I'm sorry to inform you, Miss Mars, but your fanciful idea about signs being attached to borders is the complete poppycock that I always thought it was, from the first, although, for your sake, I submitted it anyway.” He sniffed, shaking his head sadly as Miss Mars and the duck watched, expressionless. “They said no, of course, said it couldn't be done, silly idea really, so from now on we'll have no more foolishness on my watch! You understand? No ma'am, no more foolishness at all, by golly.” With that he strutted away, followed by Detective Widefoot Jr. and Detective Hardly who both sneered at her as they passed. No one noticed that the duck had already left. </p>
<p> Later that afternoon the magical border was back, moving slowly across the disputed lands with a rather obvious warning sign attached to it and moving along with it. A duck followed behind the sign and when it crossed a pile of something nasty that someone had stepped in earlier, why he just walked over and put his foot right in it and hey, presto, zap! There stood an ex-unsuspecting traveler who smiled brightly and walked away.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64073322020-08-11T12:01:26-07:002020-08-11T12:01:26-07:00A Taradiddle: The Dog Tales #3 - By Lillow Mi<p> I'm a Hound Dog and my job is to howl at the moon and bark at the stars. I'd been performing it diligently and assiduously since its inception, which is also my earliest memory. The only time I had off was a few days each month around the new moon, although I still barked at the stars. There's just so many! I've often been awarded the title Good Dog despite various attempts to curb my barking, my sleeping habits, and my somewhat overzealous dietary adventures, to the point of sometimes even receiving Bad Dog warnings. I remained, nonetheless, primarily a Good Dog, and my name is Rover. You may think the name common but in fact, I have never met another Dog named Rover. Not ever, and I have a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, many of whom are actual Dogs. My neighbor Spike is one such who also has a unique name. That was probably what sparked our friendship, the name thing. I mean we were surrounded by Charleys, Sams, Lorettas, Olivias and all the other names that were common to both Dogs and Humans, but not me and Spike. Oh, no, very few others used our names. </p>
<p> Spike and I grew to be steadfast friends, despite our other seeming differences. For example, while Spike enjoyed howling at the moon and barking at the stars, it was not his primary employment. Rather Spike's main activities were eating and tail wagging, traits he claimed were derived from being part of a multidimensional being named Sugfissel. Spike was purportedly the stomach and tail of Sugfissel and thus his employment involved eating and tail wagging. Fortunately he was also a darn good howler. </p>
<p> Diligence is a trait we shared and over time my barking and howling, along with Spike's eating, howling and tail wagging, became works of art. Performance art I guess you could say. We were masters. We performed at various venues but I think our favorite was behind the manor where Spike lived because there were fewer interventions. There was another guy living at the manor named Alley but he never barked or wagged his tail and worse, was reported to be a finicky eater. Yet we all became friends anyway. Sometimes Alley would yowl when Spike and I were howling, especially when the moon was full and I must say, we sounded good. Very good. </p>
<p> Eventually we formed a trio, The Doggone Three. We hired a Monkey who lives at the manor to be our drummer and Sweet Loretta, a Poodle from mythical Gresham, as rhythm yipper. Oh we were something! We had sold out shows all the way from Here to There! Before we knew it, we were big stars performing at Doggywood, Dog Planet and more! We were called before the King to receive the Royal & Well-Marked Medal of the Good Dog! Alley and that monkey, a kid named Ishytoo were, amazingly enough, unsure if they wanted to be known as Good Dogs, but we were finally able to convince them, and we all became proud members of the Royal Good Dog Society. We have paw prints in the Big Star section of sidewalk by Gladsheim Palace, I mean we were big! We were recognized everywhere we went. </p>
<p> But the group finally broke up due to irreconcilable differences. Ishytoo and Alley just did not like Dog biscuits anymore. Dog biscuits were an understandable staple in the Doggone Three's menu. We got 'em everywhere we went. But Ishytoo preferred those biscuits of flour and butter like what Witches make, while Alley preferred some fishy biscuits with cheese and butter, also made by Witches. It got to the point where neither would even touch a Dog biscuit! What manner of beings are these? Spike and I are seriously confused, and Sweet Loretta's with us on this, I mean, how could anybody not like Dog biscuits?</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64073312020-08-11T12:00:24-07:002020-08-11T12:00:24-07:00A Taradiddle: The Dog Tales # 2 - By Lillow Mi<p>A New Farmer – A Cat arrives </p>
<p> It was early summer and the meadow was wearing her warmest and most vibrant hues. We sat entranced and beguiled, savoring each sweet moment. I knew the afternoon would be hot, but not too hot, and though the humidity was high from the recent rains, I foresaw a very pleasant day unfolding. Everything was so perfect, in fact, that I became uneasy. It seemed too perfect. So I was not surprised when I saw the famous Darnalong, Windigale Ossep, prancing down the mid-meadow trail. I heard Ishmael snort, stand up and walk away. He and Windy do not get along. I watched as he proceeded south toward Probable Creek then I turned to watch Windy's arrival from the opposite direction. </p>
<p> “Oh Lillow!” she gushed, walking up, “This is such a lovely spot and you all look so content and happy here!” I heard Holly exhale sharply and Lorna's feather's ruffle. Windy, besides being overweening has a reputation for bringing bad, sometimes horrific news, and few are glad to see her, or any Darnalong for that matter, which is an effect that all Darnalongs are curiously blind to. Yet she has brought us news that we'd needed to hear in the past, so we've always grinned and bore it, so to speak. And in spite of everything, I did like Windy. </p>
<p> “Hi Windy!” I answered, smiling at her. “Yes, it is a lovely spot and a beautiful day! Come sit with us.” I pointed to a nearby chair, amid desultory “Hi Windy's” from Holly and Lorna. </p>
<p> “Yes, yes hello,” Windy chirped as she sat down. “Lillow, I have seen the most amazing thing!” Being the sort, she leapt to her feet again and facing me, began doing a sprightly little jig. “I've seen the most amazing thing! An amazing thing Lillow, why I don't believe I've ever seen such an amazing thing, not ever, not ever before!” She stood still for a moment, looking away. “Not that I can remember anyway. Well maybe that Dust Devil … ” Then, looking back at me, “No, this tops that! Really, you just won't believe it!” </p>
<p> “Windy! What is it?” I'm always surprised when Lorna speaks up like that. </p>
<p> “Yeah, what is it?” I add. </p>
<p> “Well I must say! I've never heard such ingratitude coming from the possible recipients of fabulous news!” Windy snarled, looking first at Lorna, then me and finally Holly. We all wore innocent expressions, as was our right. </p>
<p> That was when I noticed another odd figure coming down the mid-meadow trail. It seemed to be entirely black and walked on all fours like Holly does. It walked serenely, languorously swaying, its tail held upright from its behind. By now we're all watching, Windy's 'fabulous news' gone to a back burner. </p>
<p> I knew what this creature was and I stared in fascination as well as vexation. It was a cat and I knew I'd been remiss in not including cats, er I mean Cats, in my stories. One Cat at least, I thought with a pang. The Cat, who wore a pointed hat with the sides folded up between black, pointed ears, had arrived and, sitting down on its haunches, began licking its forepaw. It seemed unconcerned at our gaping. Then it stopped licking and holding its foot in place, looked up at me with a wide smile. </p>
<p> “Lillow, I've been reading your stories and I am shocked that not once, in a story about Witches no less, that not once have you mentioned or even alluded to the presence of a basic and most necessary member of any Witch's entourage, that being, of course,” it lowered its foot, “the humble Cat.” Its chest seemed to swell. “Well known for their prestigious work as familiars, Cats are also invaluable and loving companions.” It briefly looked at Holly and Lorna out the sides of slitted eyes. Then, looking back at me with a guileless expression, it continued, “We are generously endowed with soft, shiny, and eminently pet-able fur.” Its shoulders swayed, like an invisible hand was gliding down its back. I stared in awe. What an astonishing performance! It lifted its head, and gazing at me past long lashes, it asked, “Why Lillow? Why no Cats?” </p>
<p> I didn't know what to say. I heard Windy snort then mutter, “Well, the nerve.” I looked at her. </p>
<p> Looking back at me with indignantly stricken eyes, she whispered, “That was my fabulous news, Lillow. That, that thing there, who I saw first remember, that was my fabulous news.” I watched a tear form in her eye then roll to the ground. </p>
<p> “Gosh, I'm sorry Windy. I guess you just didn't have time?” I offered. </p>
<p> “No Lillow.” She's speaking louder now, “I had more than enough time. It was just that Ishmael …” She looked around as if just realizing that Ishmael wasn't here. </p>
<p> “Ahem!” the Cat said, looking sternly at us. “Please ladies, if you would be so kind as to keep your squabbling to your own time?” It paused, then smiling it stood and spread its arms wide, “Can you not see? I have arrived!” Windy backed up a step, frowning fiercely. </p>
<p> “Gosh, I'm sorry Cat,” I said, honestly feeling remorse, “there were just never any Cats around when I was writing.” </p>
<p> “I'm here now.” </p>
<p> “And you're in a story now. It's this story, the story about how you arrived. What's your name?” </p>
<p> Returning to four feet, it padded closer, with willowy movements and smiling face. “I am called Alexander. After Alexander the Great, and my middle name is Winnefred (win-ferd) after Winnefred the Great and my other middle name is Cornelius ...” He paused. </p>
<p> “After Cornelius the Great?” I asked, feeling clever. </p>
<p> His eyebrows shot up, “Why no! Gracious sakes no, now why would you think that?” </p>
<p> “Oh!” I was surprised. “I just thought that since the first two were great and I'd never heard of Winnefred or ...” </p>
<p> “No, no no, oh my no!” he uttered with a wounded look. I thought his histrionics were reminiscent of Windy’s and looking around I realized she was gone. With a huff Alexander continued, “Winnefred was in fact great and many thought him the greatest of all,” he gave me a sly look, “in Cat Land.” </p>
<p> Well, of course. I'll admit I do not know the greats in Cat Land, so I nodded my acceptance, saying, “Well okay then. Winnefred the Great. And Cornelius?” </p>
<p> “Ah Cornelius. Mum just liked the name and threw it in.” He smiled, sitting again on his haunches, and waving his tail. </p>
<p> “Well I'm glad to meet you Alexander Winnefred Cornelius Cat. I guess you know our names from reading the stories?” </p>
<p> “Indeed I do, Lillow Mi.” Then looking at each and tipping his head, he said, “Lorna, Holly.” </p>
<p> “Hello Alexander Winn ...” Holly began. </p>
<p> “You can call me Alley,” he interrupted. </p>
<p> “Hello Alley!” they both chimed in. And that is how Ally Cat came to the farm. </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/64073202020-08-11T11:58:24-07:002020-08-11T11:59:52-07:00A Taradiddle: The Dog Tales #1 - By Lillow Mi<p>I have been writing stories (taradiddles) about the Dogs on the farm and have amassed fifteen so far in a collection that I call the Dog Tales. I have put some on Facebook but I would like to present the entire collection here now, three at a time, in their correct order. The first is about our hero Spike's interesting life and his arrival on the farm. Next is Alley Cat's arrival and number three is about the group Howl that Spike orchestrates. I hope you enjoy them. </p>
<p>A Taradiddle – the Dog Tales # 1</p>
<p>Spike – A Dog arrives </p>
<p> Sugfissel is a true multi-dimensional being. The part of him that resides in our dimension is not very impressive next to the totality, being just Sugfissel's stomach and tail, so that he appears to us as a Dog. A Bulldog named Spike. Being the stomach of a much larger multi-dimensional creature, Spike has a voracious appetite and loves to wag his tail. Having strong yet slightly known ties to the long-lived Sugfissel, who wanted a better life, Spike also wanted a better life, and tried many different things toward this end. He began his career working as a pet and was employed by two consecutive families before spending years exploring on his own or running and hiding as he tended to think of it. After numerous trials and tribulations he came to realize that Dogs have very little freedom in the mythical world of commerce and technology, so he decided to try the magical world instead. He didn't know you needed to have some magical abilities to enter, or to even know about the magical realms but being ignorantly steadfast, he continued undeterred. He was able to do this because, unbeknownst to him, he did have a magical ability, which must remain unbeknownst to us as well. At least until Spike finds out about it. Then we'll see. </p>
<p> Not knowing the magical realms, Spike entered at a random spot and found himself beside a small creek. Following the creek downstream he passed through a rather frightening Witch's Glamoury Wall, so he knew he was entering a magical place. When he came to a Fæirie Ring he stopped, and lay down for a while in the shade, watching for whatever might happen. </p>
<p> Spike could tell it had not been long since Fæiries had danced here, there being lots of glitter and sparkle about. On the other side of the Fæirie Ring he could see some fairly fresh piles of jeewizium tucked in corners and under ledges the way it does. He wondered if there were any dimensional travelers around to use it. Seemed odd to let it just lay there, even though most people can't even see it or use it. Haven't seen any jeewizium in a long, long time, he mused, enjoying the flashes and colorful auras that surrounded jeewizium. They were playing nicely with the glitter and sparkle of the Fæirie Ring. Even though he knew of jeewizium and the dimensions he would not himself ever try traveling them. Way too risky, especially since he was certain he would eventually find happiness here in this dimension. He wondered if someone would come around to collect the jeewizium and decided to wait awhile. </p>
<p> After sitting for a time, he started to feel drowsy and stretched out. He was fast asleep when a curious Duck came waddling up and stopped to stare at him. After a few moments she stepped closer, tilting her head with curiosity. Finally, when she was about twenty centimeters from his face and closing in, he opened his eye. The Duck squawked and jumped back as he scrambled to his feet. </p>
<p> “Who're you?” they both screeched in unison. </p>
<p> After staring at each other for a few moments Spike decided, since he was the newcomer, to speak first, “Well, uh, my name's Spike.” </p>
<p> “Gosh, you scared me Spike. I'm Lorna, Lorna Loon. I come down this way to float in Probable Creek,” she announced, glancing over at the creek. </p>
<p> “Oh. Probable Creek is it? It’s beautiful,” he said. “You live here?” </p>
<p> “Yeah. I'm the soprano with Piffle, who you've no doubt heard of. Big deal in these parts, so I am quite a . . .” </p>
<p> “What's Piffle?” </p>
<p> Lorna gazed at him through narrowed eyes for a moment before murmuring, “Oh it’s just some singing group.” Then smiling, she asked, “So what brings you to these parts Spike?” </p>
<p> “I'm looking for a home,” he said, “but I'm not opposed to Piffle, whatever that is, I mean I'm sure your soprano is for singing but I never heard of it so I . . .” </p>
<p> “That's okay Spike,” Lorna interjected. “Looking for home, huh? Whatya do?” </p>
<p> “Do? I'm a Dog. I guard places and bark at strangers.” She continued looking at him expectantly. “And, uh, well, I can sit.” He promptly sat down. “Oh, and I can fetch. Throw a stick!” he prompted. Lorna stared at him with her head tilted. “Okay, no stick. I can roll over. Watch!” He lay down and rolled over, then sat up, watching Lorna eagerly. </p>
<p> “Gosh. None of that seems very magical Spike,” she said with a worried frown. “You gotta have magic to be here you know.” </p>
<p> “Magic?” he said with a surprised look. </p>
<p> “Uh-huh,” she nodded. “You better come with me Spike.” She started toward the perimeter trail. </p>
<p> “Watch out Lorna! You're about to step in some jeewizium,” Spike called out. </p>
<p> She stopped abruptly, “You can see jeewizium?” </p>
<p> “Sure. Right there in front of you. Don't you see it?” </p>
<p> “Uh, no. I can't see it. Thanks for pointing it out,” she answered, walking around the spot he'd pointed to. </p>
<p> “Hey, no problem. That stuff's dangerous and I know of others who can't see it, so I speak up. Or bark up in the mythical world.” </p>
<p> Stepping away she gave him a curious look, then continued toward the trail. She led him down the perimeter trail to the mid-meadow trail then up towards Glad Manor. It was a long walk and he had many questions. </p>
<p> “What is this place?” </p>
<p> “It's a farm.” </p>
<p> “A farm? What's it grow? Jeewizium?” </p>
<p> “Gosh no, that stuff falls from the sky. Lillow and Ishmael gather it and store it at the manor. This farm, called Gladstar Farm by the way, doesn't really grow anything but we do make cheese.” </p>
<p> “Cheese?” </p>
<p> “Yeah cheese. We make some from Holly's milk and some Holly brings back from the moon.” </p>
<p> “Who is Holly?” </p>
<p> “Holly Cow. We'll be going up past her place, maybe you can meet her.” </p>
<p> Spike could feel the magic in the air and could see the evanescent colors that only magical places have, and he realized he was smiling. When they reached the mid-meadow trail they turned and followed it north toward Glad Manor. Spike could see a large barn-like structure to the right. </p>
<p> Seeing his look, Lorna spoke, “Its Holly's Palatial Estate. We'll be going right past it. I hope Holly's home.” Spike raised his eyebrows and gave her a curious look. “Oh, it's our gathering place. There's tea and biscuits and we like to just hang out there, you know?” Spike knew about just hanging out and nodded his approval. </p>
<p> As they passed the estate the front lawn became visible and Lorna was pleased to see not only Holly, but Ishmael, Ishytoo, Nonesuch and me, enjoying tea and chatting. We all stopped and stared at the Dog walking over with Lorna. </p>
<p> “This here's Spike,” Lorna said. “Met him down at the Fæirie Ring and I thought you all'd like to meet him.” </p>
<p> “Yeah sure,” I said, “Hi Spike! Nice to meet you, I'm Lillow.” This was pretty much repeated as Holly, Ishmael and Nonesuch introduced themselves. Ishmael introduced Ishytoo who was silent, staring transfixed at Spike. </p>
<p> “Nice to meet you.” Spike repeated to each of us, along with a grin and nod at Ishytoo. He was wagging his tail and with a smile added, “I like your farm here. It's beautiful!” </p>
<p> “Hey thanks.” I said, “So where you from Spike?” </p>
<p> “Oh just out in the mythical world, Gresham mostly. They say I appeared from a mist one day, others that I was born of a mother. I recall none of it, and only remember working as a pet for a Human family with three kids, then for another with two. It was a good life and I was loved, even though I was always restrained.” He looked sad. “But I appear to have some unusual qualities, the most troublesome being that I don't age.” We looked at him with wonder. “Or at least not as fast as others,” he continued, “I sure do feel older, I mean I've out-lived two families plus I've been exploring for a few years, so I expect I am pretty old, but I feel young and spry. Also, I am part of a multi-dimensional creature, Sugfissel by name. My understanding is that I'm the stomach and tail of Sugfissel so I have a nice appetite and a vigorous tail wag.” He smiled proudly. </p>
<p> “He can see jeewizium too,” Lorna said with a happy smile. She looked at me, “Oh, by the way, there's some down at the Fæirie Ring right now.” </p>
<p> I nodded thanks to Lorna for letting me know about the jeewizium then looked at Spike with pleased surprise. This flat-nosed Dog was getting more and more interesting. </p>
<p> “You just passing through?” I asked. </p>
<p> “I'm looking to find my place in the world, Lillow, a place where I can stay in peace,” he answered. “I'm homeless and unattached, both of which I have found to be unsuitable.” </p>
<p> “Gosh. Well you could stay with us, see what you think. It’s safe and secure and if you like it you could stay permanent,” I said. He seemed a nice enough guy, and his abilities intrigued me. I had a feeling there was more to this Dog than meets the eye, so I was pleased when he smiled and sat down. </p>
<p> “Thanks. Yeah I think I would like to stay awhile.” Wagging his tail he asked, “Can I have a biscuit?”</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/63792682020-07-07T18:09:48-07:002020-11-01T05:10:58-07:00At the Damfaster Master Caster Class, A Taradiddle - By Lillow Mi<p>A Taradiddle </p>
<p>At the Damfaster Master Caster Class </p>
<p> “If one ever hopes to become adept at flying a Damfaster Sports Broom, then one must always go in the right direction. The training for this attainment begins early, right after birth or within sixty or so years of it, first by walking, always in the right direction of course, and on your feet, which is the right goal for most crawlers. Once right walking is achieved, advancement is rapid, first by short hops, like a bicycle or skateboard would do, being careful of course, to always go in the right direction. Then by running and flying, especially by flying learner brooms, you know, those brooms with the little broom attached to the side. Again, choose directions wisely. Listen to the squawk of this Old Thang over here and go in the right direction, for gosh sakes.” </p>
<p> This Old Thang stopped her lecture and sat down, feeling world-weary as she eyed the meager group gathered before her. Four today; two Bright Eyed and eager to learn, one reeking of Privilege and disdain and one who watched her curiously, then gazed into space, then watched her again then closed his eyes and slumped over, apparently asleep. Then he'd jerk upright and repeat it all again. Now she watched as he dropped off to sleep for the third time. </p>
<p> One of the Bright-Eyed Pupils raised her hand, “Miz Old Thang, how do you know which way is right?” </p>
<p> “Ahh,” she said, standing. “Now that's the question, isn't it?” She strolled across the room and stopping in front of Sleeping Pupil she clapped her hands together above his head. There was a loud crack, much louder than one would expect, and Sleeping Pupil immediately jerked upright, giving her a curious look. </p>
<p> “You know, of course,” she continued, “that 'right' in this context does not refer to the opposite of left, nor does it necessarily mean the opposite of wrong, except it does generally work out that way. It definitely does not refer to the political belief of preserving and elevating class privilege. So, how do you know the right way?” She'd started pacing casually in front of the class, but now she stopped, standing squarely in front of Sleeping Pupil again, himself oblivious, gazing off into space. </p>
<p> “So how do you know, Sleeping Pupil?” she demanded loudly, hands on hips and glaring intently at him. </p>
<p> Sleeping Pupil gave this Old Thang a vacant look, becoming increasingly droopy eyed until, ker-plop! He fell asleep. </p>
<p> This Old Thang sat down again, wondering how to explain it. “See here,” she continued, “it isn't about making choices, it's about being. I think you all want to be better people, right?” She stood and looked questioningly at Privilege, who was involved with her nails and appeared unaware of this Old Thang's attention. This Old Thang spoke again, with feeling, “Flying a Damfaster is an accordance with nature!” Sleeping Pupil woke and sat up, watching her with curiosity as she spoke. She continued, “But not in defiance of one's own nature, for everything is a part, and it all functions nicely, as long as it's right.” She smiled at them. “When these principles are diligently applied the right course becomes pretty much anything that sustains and furthers the Great Wheel of Life.” </p>
<p> Sleeping Pupil said, “Sounds like transformation with a do-no-harm positive bias.” </p>
<p> “Yep,” this Old Thang whispered. “Yep, that's about it alright.” </p>
<p> Privilege spoke up, “The only good change is that which makes me richer.” </p>
<p> This Old Thang smiled sadly at her while the two Bright Eyed Pupils seemed to be considering what Privilege had said. Sleeping Pupil was staring into space as the gong sounded and the class ended. </p>
<p> “Tomorrow we fly!” this Old Thang yelled at their departing backs. She had to grin thinking of Privilege riding a Damfaster. When the door closed, she laughed out loud. </p>
<p>Going To Shwarga </p>
<p> I've come to a crossing but I see it's three way, something I didn't expect, leaving me facing two choices, one right and one wrong. I whipped out my map. Uh-huh, mmm, just as I thought. There's no fork in the path here. Not supposed to be anyway. My feeling is if it's not on the map then it doesn't exist, so I was stymied. I sat down. I was told that this was the path to Shwarga, which is where I wanted to go and that this map would take me there. </p>
<p> As I sat pondering an old hag dressed in black and wearing a tall pointed hat appeared. She was in fact the stereotypical image of a witch and I gaped in surprise. </p>
<p> “You sitten' on the crossroad girl. You come for me?” she asked in a low and feeble sounding voice. </p>
<p> “No ma'am,” I answered. “I'm trying to find Shwarga.” I looked at the two paths and pointed at them, “You know which one of these paths'll get me there?” </p>
<p> “Why it's the High Road, dearie,” she sang out. When I looked back, she was gone. I did a complete circle but she was nowhere to be seen. That was kind of creepy. I looked at my two choices again and realized I didn't know for sure which two they were as all three looked alike and I had just spun around. There definitely wasn't one that seemed higher than the others or different in any other way. I sat down again. </p>
<p> After a while, a red man appeared. Like the hag I did not see his approach. He was crimson red with short horns and a tail that was pointed on the end. He was smiling at me with a hungry look. </p>
<p> “What is your greatest wish?” he asked. He began hopping back and forth and I realized his bottom part was like a goat and that he had hooves. </p>
<p> “My greatest wish?” I stammered. I hadn't expected any of this. “I was just trying to get to Shwarga.” </p>
<p> He scowled at me and pointed to a path. I faced the path and when I looked back, he was gone. Just like the hag but this time I didn't spin around, just stood facing the indicated path. Looking back again, I shrugged and proceeded down the path. </p>
<p> I had gone for quite a ways when I saw something that seemed familiar. A small grassy knoll with an apple tree on top. I had sat under the shade of an apple tree just like this earlier, going the other way. I could see a spot that looked like it had been sat on recently and nearby, exactly as I'd left it, was an apple core someone had tossed there. I looked around with a bad feeling. I was becoming increasingly aware that I've been going in the wrong direction. I reached up and pulled an apple from the tree then sat in the spot, each movement reinforcing my deja vu. I ate the apple, throwing the core over with my earlier core and rested for a while. I put a couple apples in my pack then headed back the way I had come. </p>
<p> When I got to the crossroad, I scratched big exes on either side of the path I had arrived on. Okay, I thought, I won't be going that way again. I turned and now I was faced again with my original choice between two paths. I sat down facing them. It was starting to get dark so I pulled my blanket out of my pack along with a sandwich and one of the apples that I'd brought from the tree. I ate the sandwich and apple, tossing the core behind me. I decided to sleep between the two unknown paths across from where I sat. When I walked over, I noticed that the spot wasn't quite as smooth as on the other side but my intuition told me to stay and I listened. I slept with my head facing the path I'd arrived on. I was surprised to find that the uneven ground conformed nicely to my body and I slept well. </p>
<p> I was awakened just before dawn by a light drizzle of rain that was slowly getting heavier. I sat up and quickly rolled my blanket, grabbed my pack and ran to a nearby thicket of trees just as a fairly heavy downpour began. I sat under their protection while it rained, taking frequent catnaps to help while away the time. It rained until about midday, sometimes quite hard, but I managed to stay fairly dry. When it finally stopped, I walked over to the crossroad and was shocked to find that the rain had washed away the exes I'd scratched in the ground. The three paths all looked alike again and I groaned with despair. I was ready to give up and return to where I'd started if I just knew which way that was. I was loath to do that though as I knew my family, who I haven't seen in a long time, awaited me in Shwarga. I sat, contemplating my dilemma. I still had a couple apples that I'd brought from the tree and I pulled out another and ate it, thankful that I'd thought to bring them. </p>
<p> When I finished, I tossed the core across from where I sat. I looked at it for a moment, then got up and walked over to where it lay. From there I started walking a large circle, keeping the crossroad at the center. I soon came across yesterday's apple core half buried in the mud which meant that my way was in the opposite direction, as I clearly remembered tossing it behind me. </p>
<p> I was so thrilled at figuring this out that I didn't give my dilemma another thought. In joy and appreciation, I gazed at the two paths facing me without actually seeing them. I was happy and grateful just to be here. As I focused, I looked again at the paths ahead. Both paths seemed equally bright and promising, but as I stared the path on the left began to glow just a little brighter. I looked closer and now, somehow now, it was becoming the apparent high road. I eagerly followed it as it rose higher and higher until I reached Shwarga. And there, just past the large gates, stood my family home. Going inside I met my family, smiling and welcoming me home. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/63408442020-06-03T11:55:14-07:002020-06-03T11:55:14-07:00Meadowcentric, A Taradiddle - By Lillow Mi<p>Part Four </p>
<p> We were lost on a strange planet in another galaxy and were just about to turn back when my voice, somehow controlled by the beings here, transmitted another message asking us to wait for someone or something that wanted to talk. So, we waited, sitting for quite a while, even napping at times. There was little change except the giant greenish tinted sun had set, and another large blue star had risen. A medium sized yellow sun was approaching the horizon. The surrounding country went through astonishing transformations with each new color. The blue light especially, showing huge blue glowing columns that jutted up here and there. They were invisible without the blue light and I think insubstantial as well. I saw a large flock, or is it herd? Well anyway, a large group of black dots that approached and stopped a ways from us. Then one disconnected from the group and came over, hovering a few meters in front of us. From out of nowhere a small bush appeared and began spinning, throwing off dark multi-colored streamers that dissolved after about a meter. Then a screen appeared, like a liquid movie screen and it showed a mushroom become a ball and start rolling. It rolled and rolled, always right at the camera, or whatever was recording this, until with a loud ringing tone and a pop the screen disappeared and there sat a red ball that quickly became a mushroom, standing as though it was looking at us. I think. </p>
<p> My other-controlled voice spoke, saying, “Greetings at them. We are glibbel, then glibbel can be.” There instantly appeared a forest of mushrooms in every color, some with polka dots, some with stripes and some of a solid color that changed every so often. “Zurssel be,” my voice continued and five bushes marched over and began circling in front of us, all spinning and throwing off streamers of color. Then rapturously I yelled, “Gliggits! Gligorats! Glibbel!” I didn't know what I was saying but I felt like I was saying it quite well, certainly with passion. I could see my friends watching me with round eyes. Suddenly I felt very tired and sat down. All the strange things around us slowly started drifting away, bit by bit until we were alone in an endless glass-like plain dotted with weird blue columns. Soon the yellow sun set and there was just the large blue star giving its scant light and other stars appeared in the distance. It seemed darker and gradually we fell asleep. </p>
<p> I dreamed as I have never dreamed before and always of the meadow. I kept waking up in agitation, and I noticed the others were restless as well. Each time I'd fall asleep the dreams would start, sometimes continuations of earlier dreams, but always and from every conceivable angle, about the farm and especially about the meadow. I saw mom and the Witches thinking of us and fruitlessly trying to find us in their crystal balls and tomes. I awakened to such a pang of homesickness that I nearly swooned and sat up, no longer interested in sleeping. </p>
<p> Ishmael was behind me and now he spoke, “Can't sleep Lillow?” I was too logy to be startled and shook my head no. “Me neither,” he continued. “Can't stop thinking about the meadow and the farm.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, me too,” came from several voices, including mine. I could see the giant green-tinted sun rising on the horizon just as the blue star was setting. Dozens of blue columns that were standing around us slowly disappeared. </p>
<p> “Well,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear, “it seems to me we need to get back. Something in us is pulling us back and pulling strong.” There were sounds of agreement. I looked at the rising green sun, trying to remember where it had set last night, and determined a reasonable direction to go in order to find the crystal ring. We set off resolutely, motivated in our cause. I think we'd all figured that we weren't learning anything about this galaxy and that perhaps we weren't even able to, it being too different and too distant. Right now, all I know is it's totally strange, almost I think, stupidly strange and that was pretty much it. I was ready to go home. </p>
<p> After walking for hours, we sat down to rest. Around us was nothing but flat featureless plain. I couldn't see any signs of the hills or the huge chunks of crystal we'd circled around coming in and I had a bad feeling that we were going the wrong way. I was hiding it though so that the others wouldn't worry. </p>
<p> “We're lost, huh Lillow?” Tink asked, with a worried look. </p>
<p> “Gosh, Tink. I think we . . .” </p>
<p> “Lillow, I just discovered that my flying spell doesn't work here,” Holly announced, walking up to us before I could finish answering Tink. </p>
<p> Lorna spoke from my other side, “It's so dry here Lillow. There's no water anywhere, you notice that? No water. I mean, how can that be?” </p>
<p> “We are lost, aren't we?” Nonesuch asked, looking over Tink's head at me. </p>
<p> I looked at him with a blank face, “Yes.” I felt overwhelmed. </p>
<p> “I knew it,” Gladlee hissed at Tink, who was looking at me with a stricken expression. </p>
<p> “I don't know what to do,” I continued, feeling hopeless. “I'm open to any suggestions or ideas you might have.” I looked around hopefully, but no one responded. </p>
<p> Then my other-controlled voice spoke. “You must orange, go way.” My arm lifted of its own accord and loosely pointed. When my arm dropped, we took off in the direction indicated without another word. After quite a ways we came to a mushroom forest and stopped, wondering what to do next. I noticed a large orange sun was rising on the horizon and gradually, just past the mushroom forest, a circle of orange crystal began to appear. We walked toward it slowly, realizing that it became more substantial as the sun rose. We wanted it to be solid when we got there and it was. The jeewizium glowed softly in its center. I was overjoyed to see it, and together, hands, wings, etcetera, joined, we stepped into the orange crystal circle. </p>
<p>Part five </p>
<p> We'd finally found the orange crystal circle with the jeewizium and together we stepped onto it. The passage was definitely different this time. We barely heard or saw the chaotic colors before we entered a giant swirling maelstrom that seemed to be circling a vortex at its center. The vortex had a bright beam of light coming out of it while everything else was whirling in. I didn't like the looks of this but could see no way of altering our course. In a very short time, we arrived at the vortex and with a ker-plump we fell in. </p>
<p> We were floating downward in a thick, viscous material that was invisible yet strongly felt. I could see the others and we all seemed to be moving in slow motion. There was no sound at all. I was surprised to have no trouble breathing but no matter how I twisted I could not see where we were going. After a long while we landed with a thump on a wooden surface, having suddenly been ejected from the slow-motion area. The air seemed normal and I could see that we were on the deck of a boat at sea, with no sight of land in any direction. I said, “Gee Whiz.” and I heard the others saying it too. </p>
<p> The deck rocked slowly on the waves, and I had a sense of emptiness, like there was no one on this boat but us. I checked to make sure we were all present then we decided to explore the boat. The others teamed up and went in several directions, each drawn by different concerns. Ishmael and I headed for what I believed was the bridge and found it empty, as I'd expected, although I still felt let down seeing it so. I walked over to the tables looking for charts or any kind of clue about what this boat was or where we were, while Ishmael searched the rest of the bridge, but we found nothing. The logbook was blank, apparently waiting for its first entry. </p>
<p> I stood behind the giant wheel used for steering and gazed ahead at the endless ocean. Like looking across that endless plain on the Mushroom planet. Golly I was getting a little tired of these endless horizons. The others were exploring the rest of the boat which was quite large with several decks. There was a lever by the side of the wheel and looking closer I saw a small chart that had a dot, then an arrow pointing forward, then two arrows pointing forward then three. The lever was set at the dot and I nudged it forward into the single arrow spot. Immediately the boat began moving. </p>
<p> Ishmael walked over and looking out the front window asked, “So, uh, where we going?” </p>
<p> “Dunno,” I replied, “but it seems better than just sitting there.” </p>
<p> Then Tink came fluttering in, “Lillow, I've been to the highest place on the boat and there's no sight of land in any direction.” </p>
<p> I nodded, unsure how to respond. “Thanks, Tink.” </p>
<p> Then Lorna, Holly and Gladlee arrived. “We looked around below deck,” Holly said. “The boat's for sure empty but it's very interesting down there. Doesn't seem to be any labels on the doors, so we just barged in and sorta figured it out as we went.” </p>
<p> “Looks like it might be a cross between a passenger ship and a freighter,” Lorna added. “Didn't see any sign of an engine or fuel tanks, so I don't know how we're moving.” </p>
<p> “Comfortable cabins and a marvelous kitchen with a well stock larder,” Gladlee continued. “I don't know what the food is though, because it's all unlabeled but it sure looks delicious.” </p>
<p> “Doesn't seem to be any writing of any kind here,” I said. “Just symbols like this.” I pointed at the arrows by the lever. </p>
<p> Ishmael looked at the symbols then looked outside. The sea was calm and the sky was blue. “Let's try three arrows, Lillow.” </p>
<p> I looked around. Ishmael sat down while everyone else had found a chair and we all seemed pretty secure. “Okay you guys,” I said loudly. “We're gonna crank this baby up, so hang on.” I pushed the lever forward, hearing a click at two and another at three arrows. There was a low thrumming noise and the front of the ship lifted and I could feel the push of high acceleration. The ship was soon skimming the tops of the waves, bouncing lightly like a flat pebble bounced across a pond. Looking ahead I could only see where we were going when the ship did a down bob. My chair, like the others, was bolted down and I swiveled around to look out the back window and saw a huge frothy wake, way too fast for a water skier I thought. </p>
<p> “Everybody okay?” I called out. I got affirmative responses from everyone then continued, “So I guess we'll just buzz along like this for a while if it's okay with you all. I mean there's no sight of land anywhere, we don't know how this boat moves or how long it will keep moving so I figured our best bet was to pick a direction and just go for it, you know?” Everyone agreed, marveling at our speed. </p>
<p> “Seems like a good plan, Lillow,” Ishmael said. “But I don't think we can go this speed for too long. I mean it's almost impossible to walk when the ship's bobbing like this.” </p>
<p> It was easy to see the truth to that. We were skimming the water at unheard of speeds for a boat this size. It was a bumpy ride just touching the water rhythmically. After a couple hours I pulled the lever back to two arrows and we slowed to a somewhat brisk pace. It was fairly easy to walk at this speed. Everyone but Ishmael and Tink went off to other things. I had found a little hook to hold the wheel steady in one direction and we've settled in, watching the horizons. </p>
<p>Part Six </p>
<p> Having found the orange crystal ring we left the Mushroom planet and have landed in the middle of a vast ocean on a boat that moves apparently without need of fuel or engine. Our hope is to go in a straight line so that eventually we'll come to something. And we will if this is Gaia. </p>
<p> We've been cruising in the same direction for six days now with still no sight of land. We've settled into a routine with me, Ishmael and Tink on the bridge, Holly and Gladlee in the kitchen and Lorna and Nonesuch wandering around being helpful wherever they can. At night we keep moving with the lever set on one arrow, then in the morning we go to three for a couple hours then the rest of the day on two, with the wheel always locked in the same direction. We've seen nothing flying in the sky and just a few murky swimmers under the water, barely seen. They've been uncommunicative. </p>
<p> I'd been drowsing in the pilot's chair, as we've all taken to doing. Between catnaps and visual meditations, we three manage to keep a pretty constant look out. Tink likes to spend time up in the high spot as she calls it, which is a basket attached to a tripod that's balanced on the roof of the bridge. It is good for seeing further and all around but it's also open to the weather. Even with the sunny blue sky we've had it is difficult to sit in that basket for very long. Tink found an umbrella to use, but for sure, the most comfortable viewing is from the bridge. There's a room behind the bridge with a sink and shower that's big enough for a couple cots so we take turns sleeping in there, but today Ishmael is stretched out asleep on a side couch and Tink is up in her basket. </p>
<p> I shook my head and stood, standing by the windows in front of the stationary steering wheel when suddenly Tink comes rushing in. “I seen a boat!” she yelped. </p>
<p> Ishmael jumped up. “Where?” we both asked. Ishmael and I were looking in every direction but seeing nothing. </p>
<p> “Up there!” she pointed frantically upward. We ran out to the walkway around the bridge and looked up. I could see a dark boat shaped spot way up high floating slowly downward, like we did when we first arrived. As it got closer it began to look familiar but then it started falling faster and faster and dropped the last bit with nothing slowing it down. It hit the water with an astonishing ka-thump that sent huge waves rippling outward. A lot of water washed over our bow and we were all knocked over. I'd recognized it before it hit though and was again shocked to find myself looking at the Flightless Grace, bobbing in the waves. We all scrambled down to the deck. Now I could see Henry standing on the front waving at us. I'd shut our engine off and the big paddle wheeler was drifting our way. Now both boats glided slowly and easily together with a soft bump. We quickly tied them together, leaving them in opposite directions, so that we were now a two-boat island in the middle of a vast endless ocean. </p>
<p> Henry hopped over to our boat, “Lillow! Wow! And all you guys! Gosh, how did . . . uh, where . . .” </p>
<p> “Hold up Henry,” I said smiling at him. “Gee the last time I saw you, you and the Commodore were tipping over the edge of the world.” </p>
<p> “I know, right?” he looked at me strangely, “And you guys were right behind us in the bridge.” </p>
<p> “Yeah, I remember.” I paused. “I gotta tell you Henry, that scene didn't look too good, you know? Falling off the edge of the world wasn't the adventure we'd hoped for and we sorta ducked out. So, how'd that end up anyway? You know, the falling off?” </p>
<p> “You just saw it, Lillow.” I must have looked stunned. “Just now is how it ended. We fell and we fell, been falling for a month I think, and then suddenly here we are, just landed.” </p>
<p> “Splash down, I'd say, Henry” an authoritarian voice behind us spoke. We turned around and there stood the Commodore, watching us over the boat rails. “More like a splash down than a landing then, wouldn't you say?” </p>
<p> “Yeah, I'd say,” I agreed. </p>
<p> “Yessir, a splash down it was sir!” Henry saluted. </p>
<p> “They'll be calling it 'The Big Splash Down' in the history books, I expect,” the Commodore spoke with reverence. Then he looked at me, “I figured you guys had taken the magic door out. Told Henry that a long time ago. Isn't that right, Henry?” </p>
<p> “Yessir, you did. I remember it well. You said they'd scurried through that door like . . .” </p>
<p> “Ahem,” the Commodore interrupted. “I remember what they were like, thank you.” He turned to me, “In any case the door won't work Lillow. Ever since you guys ducked out, it won't open.” </p>
<p> “We must a tried a dozen times,” Henry piped up, then stopped at seeing the Commodore's icy gaze. </p>
<p> “We did try on several occasions,” the Commodore continued in crisp tones. “But it's quite stuck and not a one of my crew have been able to un-stick it.” </p>
<p> “You slammed it pretty hard, Lillow,” Henry chirped. The Commodore and I both gave him a stern look. </p>
<p> We decided to try the door again now that we've all settled, so to speak. We weren't doing anything else and it did seem like a nice way home if it worked. </p>
<p> We all gathered around the door in the back wall of the Commodore's ship. It was a pretty good-sized group with the seven of us along with the Commodore's Pigeons, maybe a dozen or so. No way to be sure. Suffice to say it was a pretty good-sized group. </p>
<p> Ishmael, being the strongest out of both groups walked calmly up to the door and grabbed the wheel with both hands and twisted. Tried to twist I should say as nothing budged. He tried it again this time seriously putting his back into it. Nothing. I was considering what to do next, maybe a few of us on it or perhaps a crowbar or lever of some sort when I spotted a bent crowbar in the corner. </p>
<p> Seeing my look, the Commodore spoke, “We've tried everything I could think of Lillow, including crow-bars and levers. Why I even considered asking a crew member.” He gave his crew a dubious look, as they skittered around, oblivious to his comment. </p>
<p> Just then Tink walked up to the door. She concentrated for a moment, then felt around under the wheel. “Oh my,” she muttered. </p>
<p> “What?” I asked. “What'd you find?” </p>
<p> “It’s got a lock Lillow.” </p>
<p> “Huh? I never heard of any of these doors being locked before. What's going on Tink?” </p>
<p> She gave me a worried look, “It's Cosmic Lillow. You remember Cosmic Law from Fæirie School, don't you?” </p>
<p> I did but just barely. “Remind me,” I said. </p>
<p> “Well, if your portal goes outside the universe it'll lock. It's automatic to make sure there's no way back.” She gave me a worried look. “It's 'cause portals outside the universe are dead, I think.” </p>
<p> “Oh, well,” I said, “we never left the universe. Just the galaxy. Try it again.” </p>
<p> “No, we're outside the universe Lillow.” She looked somber. “It's definitely locked.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Part Seven </p>
<p> Hoping to escape this vast ocean we found ourselves in we tried the magic door that's in the back of the bridge on the Flightless Grace, the Commodore's boat but couldn't get it to open. Tink said it was locked because we were outside the universe. Well I did not like the sound of that, being outside the universe and all, so I asked Tink, “What does that mean? I mean how do you get outside the universe?” </p>
<p> “Didn't think it was even possible,” Ishmael muttered. “Not while you're alive anyway. I mean the universe is life and . . .” he stopped, realizing what he was saying. We all looked at each other with very wide eyes. </p>
<p> I looked at Tink, “Okay. How do you know it's locked? Show me.” </p>
<p> She walked up to the door and put her hand on a spot under the wheel, a spot that wouldn't be visible at a casual glance. “Right here,” she said, moving here hand back and forth over a small area. I put my hand on the spot and could just barely feel a slightly raised circle with a slash across it. Like this Ø. It was not really visible without close scrutiny and physically touching it. </p>
<p> “That's the lock?” I asked. </p>
<p> “No, it's just the sign. You know, like a warning light that tells you the door is locked.” I must have looked confused. “The actual lock” she continued, “is a natural thing that occurs whenever something leaves the infinite universe.” </p>
<p> I think I was more confused than ever, “How can you go past infinite?” I asked. She just shook her head. Well, I wasn't going to accept getting locked out. That was all there was to it. </p>
<p> “Commodore, could I have a word? I asked. </p>
<p> “Oh, well yes, of course Lillow. What's on your mind?” </p>
<p> “Getting home, that's what. We gotta figure a way to do it but I just can't see any way right now. I'm not getting any ideas. How 'bout you?” </p>
<p> He scowled, “I've been thinking of that very thing for the entire month we were falling through that interminable ether.” He looked out the bridge window. “Now we're in the middle of a giant ocean. Everything's changing all the time, Lillow.” He shook his head. “Just how big's this ocean anyway?” He looked at me, “You guys been here long?” </p>
<p> I told him everything that had happened, starting with the jeewizium at the Fæirie Ring and concluding with their falling out of the sky. </p>
<p> “Hmm. Doesn't sound good. Six days speeding in the same direction, you say?” I nodded yes. “Pretty big ocean,” he muttered. “Always changing, Lillow, always changing. I needa think on it.” I nodded and led our group back to our boat. </p>
<p> I'd been watching the clouds gathering on the horizon with interest. This was the biggest cloud accumulation I'd seen since we've been here. I was interrupted by Henry who came to tell us that the Commodore wanted us moving again, if possible, in the same direction we'd been going. I thought that'd be easy as our wheel was locked. We just needed to turn the Flightless Grace around, match speeds and away we go. Simple. </p>
<p> We started unfastening the ropes that held us together. Our plan was to have the Commodore drive the Flightless Grace in a big circle and come along beside us so we could continue in the same direction. I hope we haven't drifted too much from our course, but really, would it matter, I thought? Any direction is good when nothing's in sight. </p>
<p> We got the Grace free and pushed her away. I was watching the big wheel in back slowly begin to turn when I was pushed back by a strong gust of wind. Then the clouds covered the sun and the day turned dark and very windy. I could hear it whistling past us. Suddenly a huge flash of lightning erupted nearby with a thunderous crack and it began to rain hard. We hurried inside to watch the Flightless Grace turn around except it was getting hard to see with this wind kicking up the water. Then we saw a giant wave wash over the Grace's decks and she began to flounder. It quickly became apparent that she was sinking and we soon had bedraggled Pigeons landing on our deck. We helped them inside amid a battering rain and howling winds, then watched as the Flightless Grace slipped down into this fathomless sea. </p>
<p> Fifteen minutes later the storm died out and the skies turned blue. Now with the Commodore and his crew added to our group we proceeded to travel in an unwavering straight line to who knows where? Henry and the Commodore began spending their time with us on the bridge while their crew stayed with Holly and the rest in the passenger areas. </p>
<p> I was watching the horizon when I thought I saw a speck of blue move in the blue sky. Then it came closer until I could see it was the giant World Bird, Avis the Bluest of Blues, winging easily across the sky. He's very hard to see as he's exactly the same color as the sky. Even his feet and beak. All blue. But I knew it was him. Who else could it be? We'd worked with Avis once a long time ago in Joten. None of us know for sure but we all pretty much think he's some kind of god, so seeing him here was little disconcerting but heartening at the same time. It was difficult seeing where he flew, matching the sky color like he does, but I do think he circled overhead at least once. Then nothing until I noticed a flicker of blue in the distance, off where I'd first noticed it. After a short while I began to think I'd imagined the whole thing. </p>
<p> Later when Ishmael and the Commodore were with me on the bridge, I noticed the flicker of blue again in the distance. I nudged Ishmael, “You see anything blue flying up there? I was thinking it might be Avis.” He squinted his eyes and peered at where I pointed. </p>
<p> Then I saw a flicker of movement a little lower on the horizon. “What's that?” I yelped. </p>
<p> We forgot about the blue Bird and focused on the dot, which soon became apparent. It was a Bird, just a silhouette, but a Bird, and it was flying our way. </p>
<p>Part Eight </p>
<p> We have been stranded on an endless ocean in a place that is somehow outside the universe. I noticed a flickering on the horizon and it soon became a Bird's silhouette coming our way. We hurried down to the deck to watch the distant Bird approach. Its flight was like a dream with images repeated and movements made hazy. By the time it landed we all knew who it was, as would anyone from Elvenstead. It was the Dawn Robin Redbreast, glowing in waves of silver, blue and white. She sat serenely smiling. Then she spoke. </p>
<p> “Oh, my farmers, brought here 'cross the border, here to the waters where the great ones sleep. Eternal these waters that hold you afloat there, eternal the dreams that flow from this deep. </p>
<p>What hast thou my troopers, gone roaming sublime? What hast thou that come here, it's long yet your time?” </p>
<p> As usual I wasn't totally sure of what she said, but I think she was basically asking why we were here. </p>
<p> “Uh, hello,” I said, “Well, uh, gosh, we just kind of fell here while jeewizium traveling from another galaxy.” I hoped that was okay. She was silent for a very long time and seemed to be concentrating. Then she spoke again. </p>
<p>“I have prepared a passage to where you belong, next time you're here is when you're all done.” </p>
<p> Then she disappeared. We stood there, gently swaying on the bobbing deck, awash in amazement and wondering what had just happened and what would happen next. Well, if next was anytime during the rest of that day, the answer was nothing. We went to sleep that night with no answers. Despite our predicament and unchecked curiosity, we all fell easily asleep. I knew this because I was one of the last awake, finally feeling a deep sleep overtake me. Since we'd stopped moving and the water has been calm with no land in view, we've posted no watch and everyone slept that night. </p>
<p> The next morning dawned as always. We were skittish, wondering what would happen. The Dawn Robin Redbreast had promised us a passage home and we were eager to go. The Commodore, Ishmael, Tink and I continued to occupy the bridge. Nonesuch and Henry have become friends and wander around together. Two more days have passed this way. On the third something appeared on the horizon. As we approached it got larger but we were unable to determine what it was. I'd stopped the engines and we floated slowly toward the thing. It was brown and resembled more than anything a fat parsnip sticking upside down out of the water. It was sagging a little at its tip but was quite large where it entered the water, maybe three meters across. We sat looking at it for quite a while. How could this parsnip like thing sticking out of the water help us? It was the only thing we've seen so it must be our portal, but how? </p>
<p> Ishmael and the Commodore have gotten a dinghy down and were rowing around to view the other side. </p>
<p> “There's a door around here!” Ishmael yelled. </p>
<p> The Commodore flew back and landed on the deck. “Gotta door around there Lillow,” he reported. I couldn't see any way to get the boat around so all we could do was load everyone into the dingy then row around and try the door. So, we did. The door was a round door like we'd traveled through before. Doors like that usually lead to other dimensions similar to the one by the pantry in our kitchen. I reached up and warily began opening it. What if it wouldn't turn? But it did and opened revealing a staircase leading downward. There was no way to dock the dinghy so Ishmael and I held onto the door frame on either side while everyone climbed in. I was the last one in and quickly looked back before the door closed. I was shocked that there was no sight of our boat or even the dinghy. No way back, I thought. Darn, this better be a way out. I followed the others down the stairs. </p>
<p> They had gathered at the bottom waiting for me. When we were all present and accounted for, we set out. We were at the beginning of a long, long hallway, dimly lit by some unseen source. There was no end in sight. Gosh, we must be under that endless ocean with bazillions of tons of water overhead, which means, pretty much, that this has got to be a portal. Feeling hopeful I led the troop at a brisk pace. After a couple of hours, we stopped to rest, then again, a couple hours later. This hall was maddening. It was perfectly straight and absolutely featureless, about two meters across and maybe three high. We could see it disappear into a point in the far distance for as long as we've been walking. After a few more hours we came to a wide place, like a circle with the hall going through the middle. It had chairs and a water fountain and we all gratefully collapsed. I could see that the hall continuing on the other side was as endless as ever, so I proposed we take a long break here, get some sleep if we could. As soon as we were all settled, the lights dimmed of their own accord. I didn't know whether to be upset or not but I was asleep before I could give it any more thought. </p>
<p> Sometime later the lights came back on and we awoke. I felt pretty refreshed despite sleeping on the floor. Looking around I could tell the others did too. We were soon underway again. We had traveled around five hours with one break when we came to the first door. There was a strange name on it and we knocked but got no response. Then I tried the knob and it was locked, so we continued on. We passed several more with no one home when we came to a door marked 'Ossep'. I stared in shocked disbelief. That was Windy's name, Ossep, and Windy and Addy lived behind a door just like this in a hallway also just like this. I wondered if we should knock, especially given that if this is Windy's place then the way out was pretty close, and the meadow was just a short ways beyond that. As I pondered, the door swung open and there stood the famous Darnalong, Windigale Ossep, grinning wide with sparkling eyes. </p>
<p> “Happy day Lillow!” she chirped. Then looking past me, “Oh! Well, hello you all. Gosh what a bunch.” </p>
<p> “Hi Windy,” I answered. “We just got back from a long trip and were passing by.” </p>
<p> “Well I'm so glad you knocked!” We hadn't. That I knew for sure. </p>
<p> “Gosh, well, just thought we'd say hi! Hi Windy! Good to see you! Well, wouldja lookit the time? Be sure and tell Addy hi! We gotta run!” I started to turn away. </p>
<p> Windy grabbed my arm, “Nonsense! Why, you must come in and say hello to Addy.” She turned to the others. “You can all go. Nice to see you, so long.” She pulled me in and slammed the door. “Lillow, Addy'll be so glad to see you and you just wait until you hear . . .” </p>
<p> “How long's your hallway Windy?” I couldn't help it. She'd pulled me in and my curiosity was piqued. </p>
<p> She stopped and gave me a strange look, “No one's ever been to the end, Lillow. Why on earth do you ask that?” </p>
<p> I smiled, “Just curious,” I turned and walked to the door. “Windy, I really do have to go,” I opened the door and there were my mates, even the Commodore and the Pigeons, waiting. “We just got back from another galaxy and I need to see the meadow.” Her eyes got round. “So, come by later, to the meadow, and I'll tell you the whole story.” I closed the door and returned home, to the meadow. </p>
<p> </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/63034652020-05-03T10:14:26-07:002020-05-03T10:14:48-07:00Meadowcentric: A Taradiddle - By Lillow Mi<p>A Taradiddle in Eight Parts. </p>
<p>Part One </p>
<p> It's always about the meadow. As I've mentioned before, we are meadowcentric here, it being not only a dubious addition to the lexicon but the very center around which our lives revolve. There are sacred groves in the meadow as well as flora of heavenly design so that in its entirety it is, in fact, a cathedral. There are however no meadow gods, except perhaps the Dawn Robin Redbreast, who is the Goddess of the fauna that reside in the meadow, which includes us. But the meadow itself is either godless or, it is God. We're okay with it either way. </p>
<p> It is mid-winter which means, in these parts, wet with periods of rust. It's an old saying that still holds true. Lorna and I are walking across the meadow going from the manor to Holly's Palatial Estate where we will meet up with Holly and Nonesuch then continue south to the Fæirie Ring down by Probable Creek. Ishmael and Ishytoo will meet us there when they return from the Shine, which is their mystical calling; to shine the Light of Love into the world. </p>
<p> Anyway, we'd heard last night that some jeewizium had accumulated around the Fæirie Ring, a fairly common occurrence wherein we'd collect the jeewizium and store it in safe jars for future use. As an ingredient for various spells or magical workings it's always in high demand. Well, to continue, everything was pretty normal until about an hour or so ago when a couple of delirious Fæiries, Ebb and Flora, arrived, claiming to have just returned from another galaxy. That they traveled by jeewizium that was inside the Fæirie Ring. Flora said aliens made Ebb talk with flying colors but I think they were just too excited to be making sense. Lorna and I were amazed when we heard this because, while Jeewizium has been used for millions of years to travel between dimensions it has never, to our knowledge, been used to travel between planets or galaxies. This was a whole new thing and we were intrigued. Holly and Nonesuch had already heard from Ebb and Flora who'd passed them on the way to us and were rarin' to go when we got there. I wondered if there were aliens from another galaxy at the Fæirie Ring? This thought gave me a very strange feeling, like they would somehow be more alien than our aliens. We immediately set off for the Fæirie Ring. </p>
<p> There were five Fæiries and three Elves standing around the Fæirie Ring when we got there. I recognized a couple of the Fæiries, Astra and Fon but I didn't know the other three. I knew all three of the Elves though, Brighter, Gladlee and Elvenjoy, as they lived at the manor. They were all looking at the ring with curious and even mystified expressions. </p>
<p> Brighter saw us approaching and she called out, “Hey you guys! You hear about this?” </p>
<p> “Yeah,” I answered. “From Ebb and Flora, a little while ago.” </p>
<p> “They're the only one's that done it so far,” Gladlee spoke up. “Been to the other galaxy, I mean.” </p>
<p> “How do they know they were at another galaxy?” Lorna asked. </p>
<p> “They brought back some souvenirs,” Astra said, with frown. </p>
<p> I looked at the three Fæiries I didn't know and smiled. “Hello, I'm Lillow.” </p>
<p> “Oh! Sorry Lillow,” Astra said, “this is Alk, Svanat and Tink.” </p>
<p> I introduced our group. </p>
<p> Lorna tilted her head, “Gosh Tink, are you related . . .” </p>
<p> “Don't even say it,” Tink interrupted with a grim smile. </p>
<p> Astra laughed, “Oh she hates that similarity. Tinker Bell's just a Fæirie tale, right Tink?” </p>
<p> “Darn right!” Tink responded. “Never been to this never place and I never will!” </p>
<p> “Hear, hear,” Svanat laughed. “That's why we never say never, huh Tink?” </p>
<p> “Darn right!” Tink agreed, beginning to look a little confused. </p>
<p> I had to laugh, “We never say never either Tink!” </p>
<p> Just then Ishmael and Ishytoo walked up, back from the Shine. After introductions to Alk, Svanat and Tink we filled them in on what we knew. </p>
<p> There was a moment of silence, then Lorna asked, “So Astra, what are these souvenirs you mentioned? Do they actually prove they were there? To another galaxy I mean.” </p>
<p> Astra smiled and turning she pointed to a bush growing to the side of the ring. I didn't recognize what kind of bush it was and went over to look at it more closely. The bush moved back as I approached. </p>
<p> “Oh!” I said. “I see. Does it talk?” Being closer I could see it better and examined it as best I could. </p>
<p> “Nuthin' so far,” Elvenjoy answered. </p>
<p> “Hmmm,” I said. “Is this all?” looking at Astra. </p>
<p> “How 'bout this?” She pointed at a black dot, about 10 centimeters across and floating about a meter above the ground. As I approached, I realized the dot was actually the end of a round tube that seemed to go forever when I looked inside yet remained two-dimensional from the outside. I reached out to touch it and no one said anything so I touched it. There was a blossoming of color that seemed to be the color of the sound I was hearing, which was kind of a whirling 'ing' sound, like when you ring a bell and it goes iiiinnnggg, only it's spinning with mad combinations of color emanating from it. That's the best I can describe it. It held me for a long moment. When I was able, I removed my finger and it stopped. Then the bush began to spin slowly and weird colors, darker colors, started flowing out of it and over me like billowing ribbons of pure color that dissolved about a meter out. I felt oddly energized by this. After a few moments it stopped and there was silence. </p>
<p> “One more,” Astra said, pointing to a large white mushroom with red polka dots. I didn't think I could be surprised anymore but this one did. One of the red polka-dots on the side opened and began to speak. </p>
<p>Part Two </p>
<p> Strange creatures that we think are from another galaxy are at the Fæirie Ring, apparently transported by jeewizium from inside the Fæirie Ring, an unheard-of occurrence, so we've come to investigate. The last alien creature I looked at was a white mushroom looking guy with red polka dots. As I watched a red dot on the side opened and spoke. It said, “Pop.” In stereo. Somewhere in the group someone else had said 'pop' at the exact same time. I'd heard it clearly. I looked around and saw Gladlee had his hand over his mouth. He gave me an alarmed look. The mushroom spoke again, “Pop, pip pip.” Someone in the group was repeating the same thing at the exact same time and I could tell it wasn't Gladlee, as he was looking at me with round eyes. So was Ishmael. I looked around and realized that everyone was looking at me with round eyes. I didn't like this. </p>
<p> “Why're you all looking at me like that?” I asked </p>
<p> “You've been repeating everything the mushroom says,” Gladlee stated. “I was standing right next to you and I clearly heard your voice.” </p>
<p> I shook my head. “I didn't say anything.” Then a thought came to me, and heavily compelled, I spoke it; “Yes you did.” I was dumbfounded. Was I arguing with myself? I briefly wondered who would win when I found myself voicing another thought. “We wait for correct frequency, interpret and speak us. We cannot but speak colors.” I was too stunned to say more, after listening to myself trying to explain the aliens. </p>
<p> “Are you getting this Lillow?” Ishmael asked with a worried look. </p>
<p> “Yeah, every bit, but I don't know where it's coming from,” I answered. Then my other-controlled voice continued, “Fear not, we from distant galaxy Gloxon. These kligorets Zom and Zurssel.” </p>
<p> Everyone was silent. For some reason I was feeling weary, like at the end of a long day so I sat down. Suddenly I felt like I hadn't slept in days. In a flash the strange bush was beside me and beginning to spin. Long streamers, like ribbons, came billowing out and I could feel them washing over me, and I could feel my energy recharging until I was my usual self again, then it stopped. I blinked and said, “Gee Whiz.” Then my other-controlled voice continued, “Energy goes from kliggit.” Everyone was staring at me. “We must to Gloxon now. Pull too strong. This place too far, strange. Thanks for wonderful time.” The top of the mushroom began absorbing the stem until it became a ball, then it rolled to the edge of the Fæirie Ring and waited. Meanwhile the bush reached out with one of its ribbons which then attached to the round dot and proceeded to reel it in before rolling over beside the ball mushroom. Then all three rolled or floated onto the jeewizium and disappeared. </p>
<p> I stared at the Fæirie Ring. I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if we went to that distant galaxy and someone moved the jeewizium here. Would we ever get back? </p>
<p> Just then Ebb and Flora returned. “Them kligorets go back yet?” Ebb asked, looking around. </p>
<p> “Yeah they're gone. So just what are kligorets, anyway?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Not sure Lillow. That's all we heard. Just Kligorets. They were here when we came back and made me say things with all their flashing lights.” </p>
<p> “I think they came with us,” Flora said. “Seems like they did Ebb.” </p>
<p> “I couldn't tell. It was a weird trip, that's all I can tell you for sure,” Ebb said, shaking his head. “That galaxy is totally strange.” </p>
<p> “Yep it is,” Flora agreed. “I wouldn't want to go back. After that black dot made Ebb talk, we took off to tell you. I think it came here with that bush and mushroom to meet you all so Ebb and me stayed away.” </p>
<p> “I didn't like being a mouthpiece, you know?” Ebb said with a grimace. “I mean I was glad they were gone when we got back, even though I was pretty sure they were swell guys, probably. Just sorta seemed wrong, somehow, havin' 'em run you like that.” </p>
<p> “They did that to Lillow too. Made her talk for them.” Gladlee said. </p>
<p> “Way different than the aliens in our galaxy,” Ishmael added. </p>
<p> “I'll say,” Ebb responded. </p>
<p> “I think it's the first time we've ever met actual aliens,” I said. “Mom told me long ago that the earth is a living being who she called Gaia and that we were Gaia's eyes and ears, as well as her voice in the cosmos except we don't speak for Gaia, we are Gaia.” It was quiet and I could see everyone was listening. “Well, our cosmos shows us patterns repeated endlessly, as we've all seen in our own lives. Patterns within patterns that tell me Gaia is to the galaxy as we are to Gaia. So, each galaxy must be a living being and all within her are its children.” I paused but no one spoke. “We've used the word universe to describe our adventures many times, but in fact we've never been outside the galaxy. What we really meant every time we said universe was galaxy, which is so big it takes light 150,000 years to cross. Every star we see in the sky is inside our galaxy. That is so big it has always been our universe. Today,” I continued, “we met beings, the children, of another galaxy. They are truly alien and this is a momentous occasion.” I felt historic. </p>
<p> Ishmael looked at me with questioning eyes. I knew he wanted to go visit the other galaxy in spite of what Ebb and Flora had said. I glanced at Lorna and Holly and they were watching me and Ishmael expectantly. They too wanted to go. Gosh. Another galaxy. This would be the most unusual and scariest adventure we've ever had! If we do it. </p>
<p>Part Three </p>
<p> I think we all knew we were going to visit and perhaps explore this other galaxy. We just needed a little time to convince ourselves that we knew it. I think. In any case we huddled around the Fæirie Ring and philosophized the rest of the day and finally reached our forgone conclusion that afternoon. Ishmael, Holly, Lorna and I were going to the other galaxy to check it out. We agreed to get a good night's sleep and embark in the morning. I told the Elves and the Fæiries that were still at the Fæirie Ring of our decision, adding that anyone who wanted to go is welcome to join us. </p>
<p> Early the next morning Lorna and I did our regular sunrise crow, crowing some of the more traditional Red Rooster crows, like we did in the old days. I wondered if there was anything like rooster crowing in the other galaxy. Then we headed for Holly's Palatial Estate to join Holly, Ishmael and any others who wanted to go. </p>
<p> When we arrived, there was only one other who'd opted to join us: Nonesuch! I was thrilled to see him there that morning after he'd been with us last night at the Fæirie Ring. He works for the king and is often unable to join us. Nonesuch and I have been very close for years, having gone to Fæirie School together, despite him being an Elf. </p>
<p> So, there were five of us that set off for the Fæirie Ring that morning; myself, Nonesuch, Ishmael, Holly and Lorna. Our spirits were high. When we arrived, we were greeted by two more wishing to join us; Gladlee and Tink. I liked that we had so much diversity within our group visiting this other galaxy. When we were ready, we all joined hands, or wings, or hooves, or whatever and stepped into the Fæirie Ring. </p>
<p> I'll always remember the way the wind felt as we crossed the mountains, Dragonback flying with Meshach. Invigorating is the word. Instilling vigor. Yes, that was it. And that time we crossed the Rainbow Bridge, Bifrost, and entered Asgardh to see Avis, the Bluest of Blues along with the Dawn Robin Redbreast, Goddess to the Fauna. There were other celestial beings like Lenfast and Clancy, all assembled in magnificent glory that shone brighter than Father Sun. All these feelings like waves of refulgent energy washed over us yet seemed to be diminishing, smaller and smaller until zap! It ended and there was nothing. Absolute nothing that slowly began to be invaded by something. I had no sense of it, it seeming to be a chaotic kaleidoscope of color intermixed with ringing bell tones. </p>
<p> Then we were standing inside a circle of orange crystals that were scattered rather haphazardly around us. We all said, “Gee Whiz!” Then I looked down. I could see for quite a ways, like I was standing on a glass platform that was way high up, but it felt like ground level when I looked around at our surroundings. </p>
<p> We stepped out of the circle and could see a forest of mushrooms, just like the mushroom being we'd met in our galaxy so we headed that way. Nonesuch and I took the lead, with Tink hovering between us, Holly with Lorna riding on her back, then Ishmael and Gladlee bringing up the rear. We knew we were in unknown territory and watched carefully in every direction. As we approached the mushroom forest the mushrooms directly in front of us turned into balls and rolled out of the way, parting the forest and leaving a clear path, apparently for us to follow. </p>
<p> The sky above was purple with orange and green flowing lines that were thicker in places. Like clouds, maybe. There appeared to be two suns, one huge and pulsing with greenish flames and the other a medium sized orange that seemed to be setting. Even though it was smaller it appeared brighter than the green giant. The air seemed okay so, seeing no other sensible choice, we followed the path. </p>
<p> It was a circuitous and seemingly senseless path we followed. Sometimes we'd circle all the way around small hills or giant pieces of crystal yet never encounter any sign of our original trail when the circle was completed. Black dots were passing sporadically in the sky. Every so often they'd clump up, resembling a dark cloud, then off they'd go in every direction and the green flowing lines in the sky would make spirals that slowly drifted past. It was startlingly beautiful. Finally, we reached the end of the mushroom forest and faced a seemingly endless flat plain that was like glass where you could see through for kilometers, except you couldn't see anything that made sense. Walking on this surface was like walking on ground, except you could see through it. Way through it which made walking a little disconcerting. And now this endless plain? </p>
<p> I looked at the others, and asked, “What say we take a break here?” Everyone quickly agreed and we plopped down right where we were at; endless plain on one side and a mushroom forest on the other. A forest, I noticed, that no longer had an open path. We'd brought some sack lunches since we didn't figure we could eat anything here and opened them up. I drank some water while the others drank or snacked as was their wont. </p>
<p> Ishmael looked at me, “So what're we going to do? Cross that desert,” he nodded toward the endless plain, “or maybe try to go back?” </p>
<p> I was a little nervous, thinking how hard it'd be to find that crystal circle again, and didn't really want to go further away from it, yet at the same time we did come to explore. Then I heard a voice speaking, a voice that I was able to discern as my own with some other controlling it, saying, “Wait a time. I come I be. Talk you.” Then nothing. So, we waited, sitting on firm ground that you could see a long ways through, waiting for . . . well, I'm not sure. </p>
<p>To be continued.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/62724902020-04-05T09:44:21-07:002020-04-05T14:23:06-07:00A Good Lot – A Taradiddle, By Lillow Mi<p> We have an afternoon with no rain and Ishmael and I have decided to walk the meadow. We left the manor and turned left toward the main gate, snuggling into our coats against the cold winter winds. We followed the main drive up to the Golly Orchard, admiring the fruits hanging from the trees and the lush vegetable patches. All year round this magical garden blooms and produces! Before we reached the end of the orchard, we left the main drive and turned onto the upper meadow. The main drive is hard packed earth with some gravel on top which is fine for rolling things but not so great for walking so I was glad to be back on the meadow's semi-dormant grasses. The ground was wet but Ishmael and I both wore these fabulous rubber coverings for our shoes that we got in mythical Gresham so our feet were just fine. I smiled at the meadow's expanse opening before us and breathed deeply of her brisk moisture laden air. Raindrops glistened in the barren trees like diamonds and the Goodable herd in the distance was flashing rainbow colors although that was not necessarily a good thing. </p>
<p> As we walked, I could see Jack Ass a ways ahead. He spends most his days up here in the upper meadow, keeping it trim and neat while watching over the Goodable herd. I was impressed that he had come out on such a brisk and wet day, but I knew this was his favorite place. </p>
<p> “Hey Jack!” I called out as we approached. </p>
<p> He'd been munching on the grass and looked up, “Oh, hey Lillow! Hey Ishmael! How ya guys doing?” </p>
<p> “We're good Jack. Just out for a stroll now as the rain's let up.” I answered. </p>
<p> “Rain?” He looked around with a surprised expression. Goodness, I think he's been around Lorna too long. </p>
<p> “Been raining all night and most the morning Jack,” Ishmael said. </p>
<p> “Zatso? Well, I'll be darned. Rainin' here too?” </p>
<p> “Everywhere Jack.” </p>
<p> “Well ain't that somethin'.” He looked around, “Yeah I see it now. Wet.” </p>
<p> I was curious, “So Jack, how is it that you didn't know about the rain? I mean it's been raining pretty steady for quite a while. Kind of hard to miss.” </p>
<p> Jack tilted his head oddly and said, “Gee whiz.” Right away I thought I knew what had happened. Jack must have stepped in some jeewizium and been transported to another dimension. I looked at the Goodable herd and it seemed that the rainbow bubbles were diminishing. There's always tension when someone travels across dimensions using jeewizium until they actually say, Gee whiz. </p>
<p> “Okay Jack, were've you been?” I asked. </p>
<p> He looked at me with surprise, “Why I was just over there.” He pointed with his nose then began walking toward a small grove of trees. We followed cautiously with me looking every direction for jeewizium, since I was the only one of us who could see it. Jack trundled on while Ishmael followed closely in my tracks. Then we rounded a corner, squeezing between the tight knit trees into a hidden grove and were suddenly in bright sunshine. I looked around in total confusion. I hadn't seen any sign of jeewizium! I looked at Ishmael who was taking his winter coat off with a big grin. </p>
<p> “This is nice Lillow,” he said, glancing at me. </p>
<p> “Yeah, yeah,” I answered, unnerved at the situation. Everywhere I looked in this little grove it was mid-summer, while outside, I parted some branches, yep, while outside it was cold and wet. Nothing made sense. How could . . . how could . . . I was beginning to spin and I stopped and looked at Ishmael and Jack. Ishmael was lying, stretched out on the grass with his eyes closed and his hands behind his head, wearing a contented grin. </p>
<p> Jack was lying nearby munching on some grass and watching me. “Been here all morning Lillow,” he drawled. “Weren't no rain here at all.” </p>
<p> I could see the truth of that. While verdant and lush with flowers, the place was dry. I went over to the closely knit trees that made up the grove's wall and parted the branches again. Sure enough, dark, wet and cold. I unfastened my jacket as I was getting too warm with it on. Okay, something was going on here. I mean I don't think dimensions overlap like this, pretty sure. Could this be a dimensional anomaly right here in our own upper meadow? Jeez, what're the odds of that happening? I glanced over at Ishmael who was laughing at something Jack had said. An Ape, an Ass and a Fæirie girl basking in the warm summer sun in a verdant grove on a cold, wet winter day. I'd say there were way better odds of that <em>not</em> happening! My head was spinning. Why was I having trouble with this? Jack hadn't been in another dimension; he'd been right here. So where is here? Without realizing it I had begun pacing. Ishmael and Jack were both sitting up now and watching me. </p>
<p> “You seem troubled Lillow,” Ishmael said. </p>
<p> I stopped, realizing I was spinning out of control. “Gosh Ishmael. It's just that I've never seen or heard of anything like this before. Have you been here before today Jack?” </p>
<p> “Not too much, Lillow. Most days I can't find it, but it was here today.” He smiled dreamily. “Really glad of it too, after seeing how dreary it is outside.” </p>
<p> “We <em>are </em>outside!” I said, looking around the grove. Jack looked surprised and I could see Ishmael scratching his head and peering around. I went over and sat beside them. I needed to think. </p>
<p> This little grove was so sweet that we all became dreamy as we sat there. Soon I saw flower petals falling from above, but there were no flowers growing overhead. I saw a beautiful Rabbit walking toward us in a kind of cloud. I felt peaceful, loving and grateful watching her. With a smile she sat with us, her eyes radiating pure love, her essence exuding goodness and joy. I smiled at her, then smiled at Ishmael and Jack who were both grinning wide. I think we were on the edge of bursting into laughter when she spoke. </p>
<p> “I am so happy to be here with you,” she said, bowing her head in reverence. </p>
<p> “I'm happy too,” I said as Ishmael and Jack murmured concurrences. “Is this your place?” I asked gesturing at the surrounding grove. </p>
<p> “It is always my place,” she answered with a smile. </p>
<p> “Wow, I've never noticed it before,” I said. I was deeply impressed. She had some major magic going on here. </p>
<p> “I've only recently begun visiting here,” she answered, then looking at Jack. “I've met you before noble one.” </p>
<p> Jack seemed flustered as he nodded agreement. “Yep, I remember. We sang,” he answered with dreamy eyes. </p>
<p> “We sang,” she repeated, smiling as if thoroughly enjoying the memory. </p>
<p> After a few moments I asked, “What is your name?” </p>
<p> Her long ears stood straight up, “Why I'm Reesha, Lillow. Reesha Rabbit. The other Rabbits have spoken well of you and I must say, I am thrilled to meet you!” Then she looked at Ishmael and her smile got wider, “And you my charming prince are Ishmael, Keeper of the Light. I am honored by your presence.” She bowed her head. When she looked up, she looked at Jack with shining eyes and started laughing, “And Jack and I have sung, oh how we have sung, his thunderous braying echoing off the clouds!” Ishmael chuckled and Jack snorted. I felt a joyful peace and love. So much love! </p>
<p> Reesha began softly singing and we joined in though we didn't know the words. I sang whatever came to mind and was pleasantly surprised to find I was singing along with her. We all sang, the words somehow appearing in a melody that was as comfortable and familiar as anything I'd ever sang, even though I'd never heard it before. Not that I could remember anyway. As we sang, I realized we were singing praises and gratitude for the rain! Imagine. Then we sat in companionable silence, peaceful in the lulling warm breezes while lounging in the lush green grass. I'm afraid I fell asleep because I was awakened by a splash of cold water on my forehead. I opened my eyes to an overcast and dreary day that was beginning to rain. Another raindrop splashed off my head as I shook Jack and Ishmael awake. The little grove was again just another grove in the meadow, wearing the meadow's winter colors. Ishmael grabbed his coat and quickly put it on while I fastened mine against the cold then we ran for Holly's Palatial Estate and arrived just before another beautiful downpour began. What marvelous luck!</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/62445582020-03-10T17:41:13-07:002020-04-05T09:38:48-07:00Tomes & Crystal Balls: A Taradiddle - By Lillow Mi<p> We have just left our mysterious encounter with the enlarged Glamoury Wall. We flew our brooms for quite a ways east with still no sign of the meadow. Soon there appeared a dignified looking building with pillars in front and broad marble steps leading to ornate wooden doors. We landed in front of the steps and gazed up at this imposing edifice. Carved into the marble above the doors in flowery script were the words; </p>
<p>Akashic Records – Tome and Crystal Ball Division </p>
<p> I was impressed. I knew the Akashic records contained all the knowledge of the universe and some believe the knowledge of all prior universes as well, but I had no idea how that all worked. But the words Tome and Crystal Ball however, were things I did know and I began to wonder if I was now going to see just how it all did work. We walked reverently up the steps and stood in front of the large wooden door. It was actually two doors that met in the middle of an ornate arch that framed them. Nonesuch and I led the way but before we could knock the doors swung open. An elderly woman (Elf I think but possibly Human) in long brown robes and a smiling countenance greeted us. </p>
<p> “Welcome to Akashic Records,” she sang melodiously, or at least that's what I thought I'd heard. I was so intimidated by this experience that she could have just spoken the words, but it did seem like singing to me. </p>
<p> “Gosh, thanks,” I answered, smiling meekly. </p>
<p> “You're welcome Lillow. Please, come in.” Whoa! How did she know my name? She was definitely singing and the greeting was delivered in such a beautifully crafted and musically sound piece that I felt silly replying in ordinary speech. </p>
<p> “Gosh you know my name?” I whispered, then louder added, “I mean I'm so glad to be here, thank you.” </p>
<p> She smiled at my question but said nothing. Nodding at my thank you she turned and greeted each of our company in turn as they entered; Holly, Lorna, Ishmael, Ishytoo and Nonesuch, calling each by name and each in an original and finely crafted melodic welcome. We stood together, overawed by her greetings as she strode slowly past, smiling and gesturing us to follow. She led us to a large room with long rows of tables covered with manuscripts, books and other curious items. Scholarly looking Elves either sat or were strolling about, frequently with books under arm. The large tall windows let in shafts of sunlight that made some tables glow in dust mite glory while others languished in shade. The woman led us to a small, empty table and indicated the chairs around it for us to sit on. Our table was brightly lit from an unseen source and when we were all seated she went and stood behind a podium that seemed to be part of the table. </p>
<p> “What are your questions?” she sang. </p>
<p> I could only stare stupidly and I could see the others were doing the same. Here I was in the seat of all knowledge and my mind was blank! I was flabbergasted. I thought of the woman as She, and She looked at me with a smile and nodded yes. </p>
<p> Then She looked back at the group and smiling sang, “I'm not surprised at your reticence, most who find us by accident are speechless, blank minded and innocent.” She laughed, sounding like a harp with </p>
<p>tinkling bells and continued, “Fear no loss, our Tomes provide, as do balls of crystal and their like.” Then we were immersed in the glory of a full symphony orchestra accompanied by a heavenly choir that slowly reached a shuddering crescendo while showing us images of Tomes, our Tomes like at the manor and crystal balls just like what the Witches used and I opened my eyes and we were standing in front of the building, which seemed further away than before, then further yet and I realized it was shrinking. Soon it was too small to see and there was a pop, leaving us alone in the forest clearing. I looked at the others with nothing to say and I could see they were all like-minded. </p>
<p> We mounted our brooms and continued flying east.</p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/62221082020-02-20T15:49:18-07:002020-04-07T14:38:18-07:00Smokin' and a Jokin' – A Taradiddle, By Lillow Mi<p> Ishmael, Holly Lorna and I have been adventuring. We'd just escaped falling off the edge of the world with Henry and the Commodore and were now back in our kitchen thanks to a magical round door that takes us to different dimensions. Thing is, this kitchen was different. It was pretty much as I'd remembered our kitchen except for some subtle differences, but enough to know. A big difference I noticed right off was that it was empty. That hardly ever happened in our kitchen. Not totally empty anyway. No one spoke but I could tell they all knew we weren't actually in our own kitchen, just one that looked remarkably like it. </p>
<p> I heard a sound in the front room where the large hearth is at and put my finger to my lips to signify silence then motioned them to follow. I led them out of the kitchen and into the short hallway that connects the kitchen to the great hearth room. The meadow outside looked similar to ours, but again, I knew it wasn't. I peered around the corner and saw the most beautiful Witch I'd ever seen. She was green, sporting a large crooked nose and a protruding chin with a big hairy wart. A classic beauty! She wore the traditional black dress and black pointed hat and slouched on a wooden kitchen chair with her feet propped up on the fireplace. She was singing and clapping her hands in time. </p>
<p> “Warm footsies, warm footsies, Oh we loves 'em, how we loves 'em.” Clap, clap, clap. “Waarmm toes en waarmm feet, dey surely got dat ol' cole beat, yeah, yeah . . .” she turned and looked at me but I ducked back, unsure if she saw me or not. I looked at the others lined up behind me with round eyes. I was certain I'd seen her feet in the fire. Not near it, but in it. Then I heard the sounds of someone entering the room from the great hall. </p>
<p> “Lillow, ju feet on fire agin. Izza big stink roun da whole castle.” Golly that voice sounded familiar, but what really jarred me was the name he'd called her. </p>
<p> “Sum un 'rouna corner, Ishy, check um ut, hyah?” </p>
<p> I knew we should have been running but I was too shocked at what I was hearing to formulate any kind of response. Suddenly there was an Ape who looked exactly like Ishmael standing there looking at us. </p>
<p> I stared in amazement, “Ishmael?” I asked. I glanced back at the real Ishmael who was standing behind me staring wide-eyed and slack jawed. Then I turned back to the Ishmael look-alike. He was tilting his head curiously, looking at me. </p>
<p> “D'ju sar Ishmael?” he drawled. I realized both he and the Witch were talking in a heavy accent that I didn't recognize. I nodded my head yes. “Ent no Ishmael. Ishytoo I'ma. Ju strange.” </p>
<p> I heard the Witch in the other room begin to chant, “Oom oom bigga bigga, oom golly oom golly oom bigga bum bum, ikka ikka, hyar I is!” And there she was, standing beside this otherworld Ishytoo. Her feet were black and smoking pretty heavily so it was hard to see her clearly but it looked like she was smiling as she stared at us. The strange Ishytoo was grinning and staring as well. Both had a slightly manic look to their eyes. </p>
<p> I backed up and bumped into Ishmael who immediately moved back. I didn't know what to say so I just sputtered, “Well, uh, golly it's been, uh pretty grand to meet you all, uh Lillow was it? Uh-huh, uh-huh. And Ishytoo? Uh-huh, just grand.” </p>
<p> The smoke was getting thicker and I kept backing up. The others behind were clearly backing as well, unless they'd turned and run? I spun around just as they were spinning around and we started running together. I knew there must be a door by the pantry here, just like at home, so I took the lead and led them to the spot and there it was, the round door. When we got there I looked back, but the passageway was full of thick, acrid, black smoke that was billowing out and the visibility was decreasing rapidly. </p>
<p> I opened the door and we rushed through into a sunny meadow with profuse flowers and a blue sky dotted with puffy clouds. I slammed the door shut before any smoke could get through and it disappeared with a quiet pop. </p>
<p> Looking around the first thing I saw was a flashing red/orange neon sign floating in the air above a round door which also seemed to be floating, both about 15 meters away, with a green neon arrow pointing down at the door. The sign above said 'HOME'. The word 'HOME' and the arrow were both flashing on and off but the red outline stayed constant. </p>
<p> “Gee Lillow, what is this place? It's gorgeous,” Holly asked, ignoring the sign and chewing on some of the meadow's grass. </p>
<p> “I don't know, but you're right Holly. It is gorgeous,” I answered, looking away from the bright, flashing sign to better see the idyllic scene around us. </p>
<p> “I think that's how we get back,” Ishmael said, pointing to the flashing sign. </p>
<p> “Yeah, I expect so,” I answered, looking away. </p>
<p> It was so pretty here and the air smelled of flowers and grass with sylvan undertones. I breathed deeply. Then I noticed something dark scurry quickly behind a tree in the distance. I blinked, but nothing changed and I wondered if I'd imagined it. Ishmael was walking slowly toward the flashing sign and we followed leisurely behind. {There's no rush} There was no hurry and we'd each stop from time to time to breathe deeply of the redolent air or to admire a particularly beautiful flower. I glanced back and maybe a dozen or so dark shadows instantly disappeared behind trees or shrubs, and they seemed closer. I blinked again but the scene looked fine. {Nothing hiding here} Nothing trying to hide, I thought, just a pastoral verdancy that lulled and mesmerized. Yet I felt a shiver of uncertainty. Ishmael had reached the door and turned to watch us, the sign flashing overhead. Somehow it was projecting a sense of urgency. Suddenly Ishmael's eyes got round and he grabbed the wheel and jerked the door open. </p>
<p> “Hurry!” he yelled. </p>
<p> I looked back and saw hundreds of screaming, angry Trolls, Dinosaurs and Grimn-leapers with clubs, nets and snapping claws running toward us. I yelped in fright and we were all through that door in record time. I slammed it shut just as the first Trolls arrived, brandishing clubs and screaming curses. </p>
<p> “My, that didn't sound very nice,” a quiet voice behind us spoke. We turned and there stood Hayu Runjump, watching us with concern. “Taddy said you guys had gone through the door adventuring,” she continued. “I guess you found it, huh?” </p>
<p> I was so relieved to see her and to know we were back home that I just grinned wide and said, “Yep. That's right Mrs. Runjump, we've been adventuring and that's for sure! But I can tell you, we're glad to be back.” The others were all nodding agreement. </p>
<p> “Nothing bad came through then I guess?” she asked, looking around with a smile. </p>
<p> “Not this time,” I answered. “But the bad does seem to be getting closer.” Gosh, I thought. The next time that door opens is bound to be a doozy. But as Hayu started making tea, I mused. </p>
<p> It could be good. </p>spearpointpub.comtag:spearpointpub.com,2005:Post/62221012020-02-20T15:38:53-07:002020-04-05T09:39:22-07:00A Boat on the Edge - By Lillow Mi<p style="text-align: center;">By Silver Gladstar </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">On Taradiddles </p>
<p> Everything I write is a trivial lie, fib, and/or Færietale, known collectively as taradiddles. Everything. in the past I have referred to as my little fibs are taradiddles, and I have decided to call them taradiddles again. This is not only because I like the word but also to help prevent the unlikely occurrence of their being mistaken for reality. </p>
<p> To help clarify what I'm talking about, I've listed some of the more interesting synonyms for taradiddle: baloney, bilgewater, bosh, humbug, tommyrot, tosh, twaddle, blather, hooey, and crock, blarney, malarkey, horsefeathers, and folly, along with pretentious and/or silly talk. Gosh. Oh, and they must be love-based. Well that pretty much sums it up. Thanks for listening! </p>
<p> A Boat On The Edge – A Taradiddle </p>
<p> Ishmael, Lorna, Holly and I have decided, since it's so rainy and cold, to explore a mysterious door with a wheel handle that's in the back of our kitchen. It's rarely opened since no one knows what's on the other side as it's always different, usually good but sometimes bad and every real long time or so it's flat awful. That's because the door is a portal to other dimensions, and they keep shuffling around. Anyway, with all this cold, wet weather we were ready to try our luck. Our chef Tadfast Chop has graciously cleared the normally bustling kitchen for the afternoon in the event of something bad popping out. She knew the history as well as we did. She has kindly fixed us brown bag lunches and we've each gathered whatever else we thought might be useful. It's difficult to pick things for infinite possibilities but I think we did alright. When everyone was ready, Ishmael walked over and gave the wheel a turn and the door swung open. We stood gaping at the darkness inside. I could barely see movements, but I couldn't identify anything, it being too dark and murky looking. </p>
<p> Then a figure inside approached the opening, “Tickets please!” a strangely familiar voice called out. I stepped inside and there stood our old friend Henry the Pigeon wearing a conductor's cap and taking tickets. Once past the door it was bright daylight. The others quickly followed. </p>
<p> “Henry!” I said. “How are you?” </p>
<p> He smiled at recognizing us, “Lillow! Lorna! Ishmael! Holly! Good to see you all again.” </p>
<p> “Gosh, Henry, what are you doing here?” I asked. </p>
<p> “Taking tickets Lillow. You got yours?” </p>
<p> “Uh, well, no. We don't.” I answered, giving Ishmael a worried look. “We didn't know, I mean we don't even know what the tickets would be for.” I looked around. “What is this place, anyway?” </p>
<p> “It's a dock and you're on the boarding ramp to the Flightless Grace, a paddle-wheeled cruise ship.” He frowned. “And you got no tickets.” I shrugged and I could tell the others were trying to look innocent. With a grimace, he growled, “Well there's nothing for it then, get on board and we'll sort this out later.” He looked at the ship. “Hurry now, she's taking off!” He began pushing us up the ramp. I saw the big wheel in back slowly beginning to turn and the ramp began creaking loudly. We scurried up, just in time to see the ramp fall over as the ship moved forward. </p>
<p> “Don't you usually push the ramp back when you launch?” Holly asked, looking at the twisted ramp lying on the dock with concern. </p>
<p> “Wasn't time,” Henry answered, closing the gate where the ramp had been. “You could see that. Why you just barely made it as it was.” He turned and began walking along the deck toward the front. “Come along now, the Commodore will be anxious to see you.” </p>
<p> With a worried glance to each other we followed. My immediate thought was that these Pigeons had stolen another boat and I hadn't seen or heard much to contradict that thought. The Commodore was sitting at a table in the bridge with a mysterious chart in front of him, another Pigeon at the wheel. He looked up as we came in. </p>
<p> “Ah Lillow! Ishmael, Lorna, Holly! Sit.” He waved to the chairs around the table. “Glad you could make it.” As we settled, he added, “So you decided to take a chance, huh?” I was too confused to answer. He continued, “Well, you pays your dime, you takes your chances!” He started laughing. </p>
<p> “They didn't have tickets,” Henry murmured. </p>
<p> The Commodore stopped laughing, briefly looked surprised, then added, “Well, I guess you all just takes your chances!” He laughed loudly again, then focused on the river ahead. “You see where we're going, don't you?” </p>
<p> I could see nothing ahead except haze and roiling clouds that split briefly to show stars in the background. That couldn't be right since it was broad daylight, but the clouds boiled up again, blocking my view. There seemed to be a huge roaring sound, deep and ominous. “No, I can't see anything. Just those clouds.” I squinted my eyes. “What's that sound?” No answer. “You know,” I continued. “I was just going to ask where we were going.” I looked at the Commodore. “So where are we going?” </p>
<p> “That's the edge of the world,” he intoned softly, pointing toward the roiling clouds. </p>
<p> “Huh?” I looked more closely. It did seem pretty chaotic, especially with those stars. But still . . . </p>
<p> “What do you mean edge?” Lorna asked. </p>
<p> “Yeah,” I added. “The world's round. There's no edge.” Ishmael and Holly had gone up to the windows in front and were peering nervously ahead. </p>
<p> “That's the edge there,” the Commodore spoke in no-nonsense tones, wearing a grim expression. “We're gonna see what's beyond.” </p>
<p> That's when I noticed a round door in the back wall. I motioned to the others to follow and we snuck over to the door. I looked back and saw the Commodore gripping the wheel, totally focused on the approaching edge with Henry by his side. Then I reached out and turned the door's wheel, the door opened and we all popped quickly through. I looked back just as the big boat started tipping over the edge with the Commodore still at the wheel, Henry still by his side and a misty blackness of star-filled space beyond. I slammed that door shut! </p>
<p> We were back in the kitchen. Only it wasn't quite the same.</p>spearpointpub.com