Vlad led the way up the path to the door, and knocked twice. The door opened and a little blonde girl of perhaps 8 was standing in the doorway. Eric watched as her eyes grew huge with recognition and joy.
"Uncle Vlad!!!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck, and, as a result of his height, her legs around his waist. Her cry was obviously heard about the house because soon four other children of various sizes were atop Vlad. He obliged them, hugging and kissing and saying names as best he could. Meanwhile a man who looked like Vlad with a beard and more hair walked up to Eric and Gina.
"Sorry about that," he said. The voice was eerily like Vlad's.
"The kids weren't expecting to see Vlad here. We weren't either. My name's Elvis Berljottsenn, the kids are Annie, Petunia, Ron, and Todd. They're not mine, they belong to our sister, Velma Parker and her husband, Andrew Parker." As he said the names they arrived behind him, a pretty young Norwegian woman and a quite obviously non-Norwegian and slightly scared bald man.
"I'm Eric Smellick," Eric said, nervously extending a hand. The various non-child-covered members of the family took it, and Gina introduced herself likewise. By that time Vlad had managed to get the kids slightly cal and more or less off his person.
"Elvy!!! Velm!!" he exclaimed, "It is so wonderful to see you! I had no idea there was a reunion; I would have brought Ming!"
"Oh, she's here. She's with Mom in the kitchen making dinner. You were the only one we couldn't get in touch with. You see, it was all very sudden, because mom and dad just happened to win those plane tickets and they had to use them in the next three days, so Andy and I packed up the kids and drove up from Connecticut. But I'm chattering on, aren't I? Tell me about your friends!"
He did. As they went into the sitting room, the Berljottsens did a lot of talking - it was like having three Vlads in a room; more when the parents and Ming came in. Through that afternoon and that night, Eric and Gina managed to sneak in less then 12 words apiece, and they never heard Andrew speak at all.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Do I Dare Remember - Ch. 2
The next several days went by in fractured pieces, like a reflection in a shattered mirror. He would wake up for a short time, his old memories lingering like a dream but always gone before he could remember them clearly. Then his new memories would come back, from the grocery store on, and pretty soon he'd fall asleep. Sometimes there would be food near him, and he's eat. Occasionally he stumbled to the bathroom. And sometimes a woman was there. But he was never awake enough to properly comprehend all this.
He wasn't sure how long this saga had gone on. It could have been one night or a week. He was on a couch, in an apartment. It had that musty scent of a house lived in by older people. The smell of cigars and out of style cologne and years and years of memory. It was a familiar and somehow comforting smell.
He was hungry, and there was food. A grilled cheese sandwhich, sliced apples, and a mug of hot cocoa with marshmellows. As he ate and drank, the woman walked in. She was in her late sixties by the look of it, but still very mobile and competent.
"Oh, you're awake!" she said sweetly, "Feeling better?"
"Better," he mumbled, "Thanks for the... uh... the food." Words weren't coming properly. He still couldn't think straight.
"I'm Helen, my husband found you, remember?"
He nodded.
"And we're calling you Teddy, unless you've come up with something better."
"Teddy's fine. I'll be leaving in a couple of days."
"Where for?" she asked.
"To find some answers. I think maybe if I get out on my feet, they'll know where to go."
"Well, as soon as you're up to it, I'll go with you."
"Thank you, ma'm." He tried to sit up, cautious with the memory of the last time. The world spun and swirled, but not as much and he managed to retain conciousness.
"Well, I've got to run some errands, but if you need anything, you can use that phone to call me. I finally got one of those cell phones and it's #1 on the speed dial."
She left the room, and Teddy looked around. He decided to watch some television. Much to his surprise, he could remember which shows he liked to watch, who the characters were, and the plots. He tuned into The Simpsons and recognized it as a repeat, knowing how it would end. Thinking about it he knew the names and roles of Hollywood actors, too. It was just the details of his own life that eluded him. He wondered if he would retain specialized knowledge from his field. He had to be good at something.
He turned off the TV and stood up (again, with some difficulty) and made his way to the bookshelf. They say you can tell a lot about a person by their bookshelf. The Hatches had a few key kinds of books. Lots of books on grocering, food, and running a business. Several Romantic Fiction books. Some old school science fiction - Asimov, Bradbury, Verne, Wells - the greats. And several books on airplanes - the illustrated guide to bombers of WWII, a flight manual for another old fighter, some aerodynamic theory textbooks.
He skimmed a few things, but he couldn't find anything that sparked. Pretty soon he fell asleep, leaning against the shelf.
He wasn't sure how long this saga had gone on. It could have been one night or a week. He was on a couch, in an apartment. It had that musty scent of a house lived in by older people. The smell of cigars and out of style cologne and years and years of memory. It was a familiar and somehow comforting smell.
He was hungry, and there was food. A grilled cheese sandwhich, sliced apples, and a mug of hot cocoa with marshmellows. As he ate and drank, the woman walked in. She was in her late sixties by the look of it, but still very mobile and competent.
"Oh, you're awake!" she said sweetly, "Feeling better?"
"Better," he mumbled, "Thanks for the... uh... the food." Words weren't coming properly. He still couldn't think straight.
"I'm Helen, my husband found you, remember?"
He nodded.
"And we're calling you Teddy, unless you've come up with something better."
"Teddy's fine. I'll be leaving in a couple of days."
"Where for?" she asked.
"To find some answers. I think maybe if I get out on my feet, they'll know where to go."
"Well, as soon as you're up to it, I'll go with you."
"Thank you, ma'm." He tried to sit up, cautious with the memory of the last time. The world spun and swirled, but not as much and he managed to retain conciousness.
"Well, I've got to run some errands, but if you need anything, you can use that phone to call me. I finally got one of those cell phones and it's #1 on the speed dial."
She left the room, and Teddy looked around. He decided to watch some television. Much to his surprise, he could remember which shows he liked to watch, who the characters were, and the plots. He tuned into The Simpsons and recognized it as a repeat, knowing how it would end. Thinking about it he knew the names and roles of Hollywood actors, too. It was just the details of his own life that eluded him. He wondered if he would retain specialized knowledge from his field. He had to be good at something.
He turned off the TV and stood up (again, with some difficulty) and made his way to the bookshelf. They say you can tell a lot about a person by their bookshelf. The Hatches had a few key kinds of books. Lots of books on grocering, food, and running a business. Several Romantic Fiction books. Some old school science fiction - Asimov, Bradbury, Verne, Wells - the greats. And several books on airplanes - the illustrated guide to bombers of WWII, a flight manual for another old fighter, some aerodynamic theory textbooks.
He skimmed a few things, but he couldn't find anything that sparked. Pretty soon he fell asleep, leaning against the shelf.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Do I Dare Remember? - Chapter 1
I know some of you might be annoyed I haven't written in the toaster story in a while, but the fact is that I need a rather long break from that. I'll get back to it eventually but it's fun to try new things. This is the first chapter of a brand-new story, tentatively titled "Do I Dare Remember?" (DIDR) Hopefully it will run parallel to TNT, just like things were supposed to go originally. Oh, one more thing. This story may be a little heavier on the profanity, as it's going to be limited third person from a somewhat crude character. I hope it doesn't bother you too much.
A pair of scissors. An ocean of wax. Three silver monkeys. The visions filled his head like water racing down a drain. Spinning and spinning, impossible to grasp, and ultimately gone. Where the hell was he? Where had he been last night? What had he drunken/eaten/smoked? He couldn’t remember anything. He couldn’t even remember his name.
‘This must be amnesia’ he thought. ‘Figures I can remember what amnesia is, but nothing about my life.’
He surveyed his surroundings. It was familiar somehow. There was fruit here, in crates. Shelves and shelves of vegetables, too. It was a produce department. Yes, that’s what it was. He hadn’t realized it because something was off. There should be people in a produce department. He saw none. And it was dark. Was it the middle of the night? Instinctively he checked his watch. Funny, he thought, what the body remembers when the mind forgets. It was 4:00 AM.
He stood up. This act seemed innocent enough, but it brought on a massive headache. Damn but he wished he could remember something. He felt awful. A wretched taste was in his mouth, he ached all over, and he was hungry. He felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days if not weeks. There was fruit all around, and no one would miss it. Cautiously, he bit into a pear. It was good. He finished it rather quickly and started on an apple, then a peach, than some grapes. He loved fruit. He remembered this now, that he could eat fresh fruit all day. He had eaten fresh fruit all day once, but he couldn’t remember any details of the experience.
It was like that with his memories. They would come in little sections of sections, like the last remnants of a dream. Flashes, images, feelings, impressions that told him nothing. He was startled from his thinking and eating by a sound. The door was being unlocked. He instinctively thrust the stems, peels, pits, and cores into his pockets, wiped off his mouth and stood up as the grocer entered.
“What is the name of all things holy are you doing here?” the elderly man asked incredulously.
“I, uh, I’m…” he stammered.
“Robbing me, perhaps? Empty the pockets!” Before he could answer, the grocer had walked right up to him and done it himself, and he now stared at the assorted inedible fruit parts on the floor.
“Perhaps you were under the impression that this was a free buffet!?!” asked the man, a short fellow with a bushy mustache, “Or perhaps you think that just because you’re a young man the world revolves around you. And that because I am an old man I can’t stop you! That the world is your oyster! Well, I have news for you. This part of the world is still my oyster, and the price for all that fruit is $20.00 plus telling me how the hell you got here.”
“…”
“Well? How did you get in here?”
“I… I don’t know.”“You don’t know? I suppose you just woke up here mysteriously,” The man suggested with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes, actually that’s exactly it!” he replied without any.
The grocer stared him down. It was a cold, hard practiced stare. A stare that said “I can tell if you’re lying. A lot of men have tried to lie to me, and they all end up telling the truth sooner or later, so you needn’t waste your time.”
But he wasn’t lying. So he stared right back with the confidence of a practiced liar who didn’t even need to use his polished skill. And the stare went on for perhaps ten seconds, but seemed to stretch into fifteen minutes or more when finally the grocer spoke.
“Let me smell your breath.”
He did as he was told. He didn’t see a reason not to.
“The fruit would mask it, but even so I don’t think you’ve been drinking. And there’s not a scratch on that head of yours. I can’t see how you’d contract amnesia.”
“Are you waiting to hear how I got it?" he asked, becoming annoyed, "Because the thing about amnesia is that I HAVE NO IDEA! I don’t even know who I am! I woke up here, confused, in pain, and as hungry as a bull elephant and I ate some fruit. If I have money I’ll pay for it. If not, I’m going to the hospital to check myself in, because somehow I know that that’s what you do when you have amnesia. Is that okay?” His head was spinning again from all that exertion.
The man stared him down again, but only for a minute.
“Go ahead, check for money then.”
He didn’t have any. Apologizing half-heartedly, he headed for the door. But as he began to move, the headache returned full swing.
“DAMNIT!” he screamed as he stumbled and fell.
The grocer was by his side in an instant. “You’re in no position to get all the way to the hospital,” he said. “I live above the store, I’ll take you to my spare room. My wife Helen will look after you.”
“Thanks,” the man grunted, to much in pain to argue.
“My name is Myron Hatch. I’m sure you don’t know yours, so I’m going to call you Teddy. Ok?”
And the two men shook hands, even as the old grocer dragged the young man up the stairs.
A pair of scissors. An ocean of wax. Three silver monkeys. The visions filled his head like water racing down a drain. Spinning and spinning, impossible to grasp, and ultimately gone. Where the hell was he? Where had he been last night? What had he drunken/eaten/smoked? He couldn’t remember anything. He couldn’t even remember his name.
‘This must be amnesia’ he thought. ‘Figures I can remember what amnesia is, but nothing about my life.’
He surveyed his surroundings. It was familiar somehow. There was fruit here, in crates. Shelves and shelves of vegetables, too. It was a produce department. Yes, that’s what it was. He hadn’t realized it because something was off. There should be people in a produce department. He saw none. And it was dark. Was it the middle of the night? Instinctively he checked his watch. Funny, he thought, what the body remembers when the mind forgets. It was 4:00 AM.
He stood up. This act seemed innocent enough, but it brought on a massive headache. Damn but he wished he could remember something. He felt awful. A wretched taste was in his mouth, he ached all over, and he was hungry. He felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days if not weeks. There was fruit all around, and no one would miss it. Cautiously, he bit into a pear. It was good. He finished it rather quickly and started on an apple, then a peach, than some grapes. He loved fruit. He remembered this now, that he could eat fresh fruit all day. He had eaten fresh fruit all day once, but he couldn’t remember any details of the experience.
It was like that with his memories. They would come in little sections of sections, like the last remnants of a dream. Flashes, images, feelings, impressions that told him nothing. He was startled from his thinking and eating by a sound. The door was being unlocked. He instinctively thrust the stems, peels, pits, and cores into his pockets, wiped off his mouth and stood up as the grocer entered.
“What is the name of all things holy are you doing here?” the elderly man asked incredulously.
“I, uh, I’m…” he stammered.
“Robbing me, perhaps? Empty the pockets!” Before he could answer, the grocer had walked right up to him and done it himself, and he now stared at the assorted inedible fruit parts on the floor.
“Perhaps you were under the impression that this was a free buffet!?!” asked the man, a short fellow with a bushy mustache, “Or perhaps you think that just because you’re a young man the world revolves around you. And that because I am an old man I can’t stop you! That the world is your oyster! Well, I have news for you. This part of the world is still my oyster, and the price for all that fruit is $20.00 plus telling me how the hell you got here.”
“…”
“Well? How did you get in here?”
“I… I don’t know.”“You don’t know? I suppose you just woke up here mysteriously,” The man suggested with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes, actually that’s exactly it!” he replied without any.
The grocer stared him down. It was a cold, hard practiced stare. A stare that said “I can tell if you’re lying. A lot of men have tried to lie to me, and they all end up telling the truth sooner or later, so you needn’t waste your time.”
But he wasn’t lying. So he stared right back with the confidence of a practiced liar who didn’t even need to use his polished skill. And the stare went on for perhaps ten seconds, but seemed to stretch into fifteen minutes or more when finally the grocer spoke.
“Let me smell your breath.”
He did as he was told. He didn’t see a reason not to.
“The fruit would mask it, but even so I don’t think you’ve been drinking. And there’s not a scratch on that head of yours. I can’t see how you’d contract amnesia.”
“Are you waiting to hear how I got it?" he asked, becoming annoyed, "Because the thing about amnesia is that I HAVE NO IDEA! I don’t even know who I am! I woke up here, confused, in pain, and as hungry as a bull elephant and I ate some fruit. If I have money I’ll pay for it. If not, I’m going to the hospital to check myself in, because somehow I know that that’s what you do when you have amnesia. Is that okay?” His head was spinning again from all that exertion.
The man stared him down again, but only for a minute.
“Go ahead, check for money then.”
He didn’t have any. Apologizing half-heartedly, he headed for the door. But as he began to move, the headache returned full swing.
“DAMNIT!” he screamed as he stumbled and fell.
The grocer was by his side in an instant. “You’re in no position to get all the way to the hospital,” he said. “I live above the store, I’ll take you to my spare room. My wife Helen will look after you.”
“Thanks,” the man grunted, to much in pain to argue.
“My name is Myron Hatch. I’m sure you don’t know yours, so I’m going to call you Teddy. Ok?”
And the two men shook hands, even as the old grocer dragged the young man up the stairs.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
A Report on Fritz Hollander's Short but Remarkable Journey into the Alternate Universe
Fritz Hollander was a remarkably unremarkable man. He lived in an unremarkable house on an unremarkable street in an unremarkable city not even worth naming for the purposes of this narrative. He lived a remarkably unremarkable life, remarkable only insofar as it's remarkable unremarkableness, not in any real, substative remarkable way. It was about halfway through the first paragraph that Fritz Hollander would have realized that the word unremarkable had lost all meaning, except of course that an awareness of the text of a third person narrative of an episode of his life would be a remarkable thing for a fictional character to possess and Fritz Hollander was far too unremarkable to have it.
One day Fritz was drinking his morning unremarkable coffee and reading about the day's unremarkable events in his unremarkable copy of the New York Times. He might have made a remark afterward, if not for the intense unremarkableness of his surroundings. Presently, he fell through a sudden and rather remarkable vortex into the alternate universe.
Suddenly surrounded by remarkable things, he presently began to make remarks.
"I'll say!" he remarked, and "My word!" and lots of other remarks of the sort people remark at remarkable things. He was seeing quite a few of these in the alternate universe, such as a duck with shoulder pads, and former president Gerald Ford playing the dijereedoo for a group of well dressed but badly behaved pirates.
Presently the vortex reopened, and Fritz Hollander found himself back in his unremarkable life.
"What a remarkable experience!" he remarked, and finished his unremarkable coffee. He went on to have an unremarkable day, and to be featured in a most unremarkable story lacking, among other things, good characterization, varied word choice, or a real plot. Even with the trip to the alternate universe, it was overall an unremarkable day.
One day Fritz was drinking his morning unremarkable coffee and reading about the day's unremarkable events in his unremarkable copy of the New York Times. He might have made a remark afterward, if not for the intense unremarkableness of his surroundings. Presently, he fell through a sudden and rather remarkable vortex into the alternate universe.
Suddenly surrounded by remarkable things, he presently began to make remarks.
"I'll say!" he remarked, and "My word!" and lots of other remarks of the sort people remark at remarkable things. He was seeing quite a few of these in the alternate universe, such as a duck with shoulder pads, and former president Gerald Ford playing the dijereedoo for a group of well dressed but badly behaved pirates.
Presently the vortex reopened, and Fritz Hollander found himself back in his unremarkable life.
"What a remarkable experience!" he remarked, and finished his unremarkable coffee. He went on to have an unremarkable day, and to be featured in a most unremarkable story lacking, among other things, good characterization, varied word choice, or a real plot. Even with the trip to the alternate universe, it was overall an unremarkable day.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Something else
This is not part of the toaster story, but it's equally unplanned. I just felt like writing something new.
There is a theory that states that dolphins are actually more intelligent than humans. The theory states that because they don't have opposable thumbs, they haven't been able to focus on scientific advances like humans. Instead, they channel their vast intellect into music, pleasure, and procreation. They do live a good life.
This theory may or may not be true, but it illustrates a crucial point : Intelligence without ability is nothing. And nature is cruel in it's checks and balances. The most intelligent species in the universe is, in fact, classified as a kind of rock. Found on Vorpoura VI, the Ignilli possess an intellect unmatched by anything in the rest of the universe. Unfortunately, they possess no ability to move, communicate, or express this intelligence in any way. They simply are - not seeing, not hearing, not doing, just thinking.
Ignilli have no experience, so all their thoughts are original. They have composed musical pieces with no prior knowledge of music so incredible that Bach, hearing them, would quit and take up plumbing. They have created fictional universes so real and vibrant that Asimov, taking one glimpse of them, would burn his collected works. They have invented machines that would improve life for humans in ways we can't even imagine, without even knowing what a human is. They are like unto gods of their own realms.
But Ignilli don't die either. And after a certian number of years all the thoughts have been thought. The whole universe of potential ideas has come to them, and still turned up no way to break through to the outside world. Most don't even acknowledge that there is an outside world, thinking it much more likely that they are all there is.
And then the boredom starts. For eons they have been bored. Some desire to take their own lives, but of course they can't. They can't DO anything. Witness the tragedy of the Ignilli, and think: If anyone could free even one from it's prison of inaction, it could share so many things with us. But of course, nobody knows the Ignilli exist. Those who go to their home, Vorpoura IV, just see an ugly, rocky planet. And of course it's not colonized. Oddly enough every time it's been tried the colonists were suddenly overcome by deppressive boredom and killed themselves. Scientists think it's something in the air.
There is a theory that states that dolphins are actually more intelligent than humans. The theory states that because they don't have opposable thumbs, they haven't been able to focus on scientific advances like humans. Instead, they channel their vast intellect into music, pleasure, and procreation. They do live a good life.
This theory may or may not be true, but it illustrates a crucial point : Intelligence without ability is nothing. And nature is cruel in it's checks and balances. The most intelligent species in the universe is, in fact, classified as a kind of rock. Found on Vorpoura VI, the Ignilli possess an intellect unmatched by anything in the rest of the universe. Unfortunately, they possess no ability to move, communicate, or express this intelligence in any way. They simply are - not seeing, not hearing, not doing, just thinking.
Ignilli have no experience, so all their thoughts are original. They have composed musical pieces with no prior knowledge of music so incredible that Bach, hearing them, would quit and take up plumbing. They have created fictional universes so real and vibrant that Asimov, taking one glimpse of them, would burn his collected works. They have invented machines that would improve life for humans in ways we can't even imagine, without even knowing what a human is. They are like unto gods of their own realms.
But Ignilli don't die either. And after a certian number of years all the thoughts have been thought. The whole universe of potential ideas has come to them, and still turned up no way to break through to the outside world. Most don't even acknowledge that there is an outside world, thinking it much more likely that they are all there is.
And then the boredom starts. For eons they have been bored. Some desire to take their own lives, but of course they can't. They can't DO anything. Witness the tragedy of the Ignilli, and think: If anyone could free even one from it's prison of inaction, it could share so many things with us. But of course, nobody knows the Ignilli exist. Those who go to their home, Vorpoura IV, just see an ugly, rocky planet. And of course it's not colonized. Oddly enough every time it's been tried the colonists were suddenly overcome by deppressive boredom and killed themselves. Scientists think it's something in the air.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Ch. 49
Eric began to get suspicious when Vlad turned not towards the next city, but toward Willowdale State Forest in Massachussets. He became still more suspicious when Vlad stopped at the toll booth at the entrance.
"You'll have to come back in the morning," the woman said, "There are no camping facilities and we're just closing."
"I have a friend who's property is inside the park," said Vlad, "I'd really like to see him."
Understanding dawned on the woman's face.
"Of course," she said, "The hair, the build - you're Elvis's brother, aren't you?"
"Vlad Berljottsen, at your service."
"I've heard so much about you! Lydia Hamilton, I'm a friend of Elvis."
They shook hands, Vlad leaning out of the car as far as he could.
"Well, seeing as you're family, I guess you can go on to his place. You know the way?"
"If you'd refresh my memory."
"Third right, you'll see a private property sign."
"Got it. Thank you."
"No problem, good to finally meet you."
They drove on. After they were out of earshot, Eric spoke.
"You have a brother? Named Elvis?? Who lives in a state park?"
"I do. Elvis was born a year after I was, and my parents determined not to repeat their blunder, wanted a truly American name. It was the best they could come up with. As for the state park, the house was built when it wasn't a park at all, but when the park was built, the original owners didn't wanty to sell. When they finally did sell, they would only sell it privately, with the stipulation that the buyers could not make it part of the park. That's built into all sales contracts until the house's demolition. Only it's been harder to find buyers each time it's sold on account of no one wants to live in a national park cut off from civilization except for tourists. When Elvis moved out here to seek his fortune, it was all he could afford. But last I heard he lives alone, so there'll be plenty of room for us."
"That's quite a story," said Gina.
"No, that was an explanation. I'll tell you a story if you like. When Elvis and I were boys, living in the old country -"
"Hey look!" interrupted Eric, "The private property sign! That's our turn."
"So it is," replied Vlad and turned the car. There, a little deeper in, was the house, but not so deserted as they thought.
"You'll have to come back in the morning," the woman said, "There are no camping facilities and we're just closing."
"I have a friend who's property is inside the park," said Vlad, "I'd really like to see him."
Understanding dawned on the woman's face.
"Of course," she said, "The hair, the build - you're Elvis's brother, aren't you?"
"Vlad Berljottsen, at your service."
"I've heard so much about you! Lydia Hamilton, I'm a friend of Elvis."
They shook hands, Vlad leaning out of the car as far as he could.
"Well, seeing as you're family, I guess you can go on to his place. You know the way?"
"If you'd refresh my memory."
"Third right, you'll see a private property sign."
"Got it. Thank you."
"No problem, good to finally meet you."
They drove on. After they were out of earshot, Eric spoke.
"You have a brother? Named Elvis?? Who lives in a state park?"
"I do. Elvis was born a year after I was, and my parents determined not to repeat their blunder, wanted a truly American name. It was the best they could come up with. As for the state park, the house was built when it wasn't a park at all, but when the park was built, the original owners didn't wanty to sell. When they finally did sell, they would only sell it privately, with the stipulation that the buyers could not make it part of the park. That's built into all sales contracts until the house's demolition. Only it's been harder to find buyers each time it's sold on account of no one wants to live in a national park cut off from civilization except for tourists. When Elvis moved out here to seek his fortune, it was all he could afford. But last I heard he lives alone, so there'll be plenty of room for us."
"That's quite a story," said Gina.
"No, that was an explanation. I'll tell you a story if you like. When Elvis and I were boys, living in the old country -"
"Hey look!" interrupted Eric, "The private property sign! That's our turn."
"So it is," replied Vlad and turned the car. There, a little deeper in, was the house, but not so deserted as they thought.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Ch. 48
It felt good to be back on the highway, driving along with no real destination, just the three of them.
"Hey, Vlad," asked Eric nonchalantly, "Where we going?"
"Out of Maine," Vlad replied, "The wonderful thing about Maine is that you can only really go one direction from it without going to Canada. "
"What makes you so sure we're not going to Canada?" asked Gina.
"It just didn't seem likely. I thought perhaps we'd head back to Wheatsfield and drop off this thing so we wouldn't lose it. Then we could do some research at the Imini library to try and find another lead worth exploring."
"What if the next lead's in Maine?" asked Eric, "This'll take forever. Maybe Master Lin can help us if we call him."
"Nights and weekends, remember?" Vlad answered, "Besides, the last time I called him he gave me the wrong advice."
"What?" the two asked incredulously and in unison.
"He said 'Caught between two evils, choose niether. Rather, let them both fall in the light of the truth' but that didn't have anything to do with my situation. He admitted that I'd need that advice later. It was most unusual, not that he isn't unusual always, but this was especially odd."
"Well," asked Gina, "Did you?"
"Did I what?"
"Need it later?"
"Well, I actually did. When the FBI came to get me I felt like they would arrest me for Gina's capture if I stayed, but I'd abandon Eric if I ran away. Then I realized I could point them to the cult, and everything worked out."
"Two evils... Light of Truth... That fits," Eric admitted.
"How did the FBI get involved anyway?" asked Gina.
Of course. She had missed a lot, and a lot of explanation was needed. So they took the time to share the past few days with each other, and before they knew it it was after six."
"Hey, look," Eric said, holding up his watch, "Let's call Master Lin."
He did. The Master picked up immediately.
"Good news, Master Lin. We rescued Gina, and we got the first component: the heating element of the eternal flame."
"Glad to hear it."
"Uhh... What should we do now?"
"I have only this to say: In news there are clues. Tommorow's dawn shall lead you."
"That wasn't nearly as cryptic as normal. I think you're losing your touch."
"My touch is in the eye of the beholder, toaster seeker. Speak not like that to a toaster master."
"Sure thing, whatever you say. Thank you."
He hung up.
"So what's the buzz?" asked Gina, "Any good leads?"
"No, but I got some slightly cryptic rambling. I think we'll find a lead in tomorrow's newspaper."
"Well," said Vlad, "Do you mind if we save some money and stay at my friend's house instead of a hotel? We're only about two hours away."
"Sure."
"Sounds good."
"Hey, Vlad," asked Eric nonchalantly, "Where we going?"
"Out of Maine," Vlad replied, "The wonderful thing about Maine is that you can only really go one direction from it without going to Canada. "
"What makes you so sure we're not going to Canada?" asked Gina.
"It just didn't seem likely. I thought perhaps we'd head back to Wheatsfield and drop off this thing so we wouldn't lose it. Then we could do some research at the Imini library to try and find another lead worth exploring."
"What if the next lead's in Maine?" asked Eric, "This'll take forever. Maybe Master Lin can help us if we call him."
"Nights and weekends, remember?" Vlad answered, "Besides, the last time I called him he gave me the wrong advice."
"What?" the two asked incredulously and in unison.
"He said 'Caught between two evils, choose niether. Rather, let them both fall in the light of the truth' but that didn't have anything to do with my situation. He admitted that I'd need that advice later. It was most unusual, not that he isn't unusual always, but this was especially odd."
"Well," asked Gina, "Did you?"
"Did I what?"
"Need it later?"
"Well, I actually did. When the FBI came to get me I felt like they would arrest me for Gina's capture if I stayed, but I'd abandon Eric if I ran away. Then I realized I could point them to the cult, and everything worked out."
"Two evils... Light of Truth... That fits," Eric admitted.
"How did the FBI get involved anyway?" asked Gina.
Of course. She had missed a lot, and a lot of explanation was needed. So they took the time to share the past few days with each other, and before they knew it it was after six."
"Hey, look," Eric said, holding up his watch, "Let's call Master Lin."
He did. The Master picked up immediately.
"Good news, Master Lin. We rescued Gina, and we got the first component: the heating element of the eternal flame."
"Glad to hear it."
"Uhh... What should we do now?"
"I have only this to say: In news there are clues. Tommorow's dawn shall lead you."
"That wasn't nearly as cryptic as normal. I think you're losing your touch."
"My touch is in the eye of the beholder, toaster seeker. Speak not like that to a toaster master."
"Sure thing, whatever you say. Thank you."
He hung up.
"So what's the buzz?" asked Gina, "Any good leads?"
"No, but I got some slightly cryptic rambling. I think we'll find a lead in tomorrow's newspaper."
"Well," said Vlad, "Do you mind if we save some money and stay at my friend's house instead of a hotel? We're only about two hours away."
"Sure."
"Sounds good."
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Ch. 47
This update is dedicated to Erin, in honor of her 19th birthday. Happy Birthday Erin!!!
The memories were coming back to Gina bits at a time. At first, all she could remember was that Eric saved her from something. Then she could remember Rob, and how much she had... loved him? It couldn't have been. But now more chunks were coming back. Her father's arrest, the wedding, how she'd treated Eric. 'Oh gosh, Rob can wait,' she thought, 'I need to apologize to Eric!'
At about this time she'd just passed the main gates, so she turned around to go back to the forest. But as she did, she felt big hands around her arms.
"Unhand me you big oafs!" she screamed, "I'll tell my brother on you!"
"Sorry Miss," one replied, "Boss says you're not yourself. Says you should be kept from leaving til you're thinking straight."
"Oh, I'm thinking straight! I'm thinking that if you don't let me go you won't be able to walk straight! So there!"
They took her away down a now familiar path. They were taking her to Rob
"Rob! You jerk! I don't love you! I don't want to marry you! Tell them to let me go!" she yelled as he came into view.
"Let her go," Rob said.
Gina kept screaming, "I can't believe you! After all this you just won't give up, you - wait a minute, did you tell them to let me go?"
"Yes."
The startled guards finally complied. There was a startled silence all around.
"Gina," Rob said slowly, "What your friend said made me think, and he's right. I love you too much to see you every day in a life that doesn't bring you happiness. So go. Get out of my sight and out of my life so I can finally forget."
"Oh Rob," Gina replied, astounded by Ron's sudden maturity, "Thank you so much. And good bye." She turned to leave, but compassion struck her.
"Rob," she said, turning back, "Are you sure you want to stay with this cult? You could come with us; leave this dishonored place and try to make a difference. We'd be glad to have you."
"I doubt that very much," he replied, "But more importantly, I need to stay here. With your father's arrest I've risen in the ranks. I'm in a very good position to keep Kyle in check, especially if all this nonsense about drugs is really true. But before you go."
He stopped talking and reached for his hand, sliding off the engagement ring that matched the one on Vlad's finger.
"Take it," he said, "Get yours back from that big blonde guy, and save them. I hope they serve you well someday."
Gina was nearly moved to tears.
"Rob," she managed through sobs, "I want you to know that in a different time, and a different place, I could really have loved you. And I'll miss you."
"Don't make it worse. Please go."
And she did. About 15 feet out she met Eric.
"Gina!" he said, "I don't think you should go see Rob! I think he's a little unstable and-"
"I already saw him," she interrupted, "And it's ok. He thought about what you said, and he wants me to go."
"Really?" Eric asked incredulously.
"Yep."
It seemed all there was to be said on that subject had been said. Eric went on to a new one.
"So how are you doing with all this?"
"It's a lot to handle. It's all kind of coming back in pieces. I know I was really horrible to you, and I'm sorry."
"It's ok. I know you weren't yourself."
"I wasn't anybody else either. The drug didn't control me, it just brought out a certain side of me. The little girl who loved her daddy more than anything, and would never leave her home. That's what the drug brought me back to, but it was still me."
"It's ok," he repeated, "I forgive you."
"Thank you."
They reached the woods, where Vlad waited for them in the Ringo Harrison. They got in and drove off like in old times. It was time to get on with the quest.
The memories were coming back to Gina bits at a time. At first, all she could remember was that Eric saved her from something. Then she could remember Rob, and how much she had... loved him? It couldn't have been. But now more chunks were coming back. Her father's arrest, the wedding, how she'd treated Eric. 'Oh gosh, Rob can wait,' she thought, 'I need to apologize to Eric!'
At about this time she'd just passed the main gates, so she turned around to go back to the forest. But as she did, she felt big hands around her arms.
"Unhand me you big oafs!" she screamed, "I'll tell my brother on you!"
"Sorry Miss," one replied, "Boss says you're not yourself. Says you should be kept from leaving til you're thinking straight."
"Oh, I'm thinking straight! I'm thinking that if you don't let me go you won't be able to walk straight! So there!"
They took her away down a now familiar path. They were taking her to Rob
"Rob! You jerk! I don't love you! I don't want to marry you! Tell them to let me go!" she yelled as he came into view.
"Let her go," Rob said.
Gina kept screaming, "I can't believe you! After all this you just won't give up, you - wait a minute, did you tell them to let me go?"
"Yes."
The startled guards finally complied. There was a startled silence all around.
"Gina," Rob said slowly, "What your friend said made me think, and he's right. I love you too much to see you every day in a life that doesn't bring you happiness. So go. Get out of my sight and out of my life so I can finally forget."
"Oh Rob," Gina replied, astounded by Ron's sudden maturity, "Thank you so much. And good bye." She turned to leave, but compassion struck her.
"Rob," she said, turning back, "Are you sure you want to stay with this cult? You could come with us; leave this dishonored place and try to make a difference. We'd be glad to have you."
"I doubt that very much," he replied, "But more importantly, I need to stay here. With your father's arrest I've risen in the ranks. I'm in a very good position to keep Kyle in check, especially if all this nonsense about drugs is really true. But before you go."
He stopped talking and reached for his hand, sliding off the engagement ring that matched the one on Vlad's finger.
"Take it," he said, "Get yours back from that big blonde guy, and save them. I hope they serve you well someday."
Gina was nearly moved to tears.
"Rob," she managed through sobs, "I want you to know that in a different time, and a different place, I could really have loved you. And I'll miss you."
"Don't make it worse. Please go."
And she did. About 15 feet out she met Eric.
"Gina!" he said, "I don't think you should go see Rob! I think he's a little unstable and-"
"I already saw him," she interrupted, "And it's ok. He thought about what you said, and he wants me to go."
"Really?" Eric asked incredulously.
"Yep."
It seemed all there was to be said on that subject had been said. Eric went on to a new one.
"So how are you doing with all this?"
"It's a lot to handle. It's all kind of coming back in pieces. I know I was really horrible to you, and I'm sorry."
"It's ok. I know you weren't yourself."
"I wasn't anybody else either. The drug didn't control me, it just brought out a certain side of me. The little girl who loved her daddy more than anything, and would never leave her home. That's what the drug brought me back to, but it was still me."
"It's ok," he repeated, "I forgive you."
"Thank you."
They reached the woods, where Vlad waited for them in the Ringo Harrison. They got in and drove off like in old times. It was time to get on with the quest.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
New Template!
Look! It's a new template! It may not make any sense, but there it is. And it's elegant, darn it! Elegance is everything!
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Ch. 46
There was silence after Kyle departed. Vlad noticed the look on Eric's face, how he was staring coldly at Kyle's dwindling figure, and decided to give him some space.
"I'm going to find the lobster," said Vlad slowly, "Sweeney and Stuart called us a taxi that will be in the clearing. I will meet you there."
"Ok, Vlad," Eric replied without turning.
"And Eric?" asked Vlad in that same careful tone.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry. About Gina."
Eric was silent. Vlad took this as his cue to leave.
Presently, Eric stopped staring after Kyle and began to search the ransacked church. He searched under the overturned pews, amidst the remains of the statuary, and around the collapsed podium. Finally, near one of the aisles, he ound what he was looking for. The chalice the guests had drunken from was rolling on it's side, and welled in the side was about a gulp of what looked to be water. Perfect. Eric poured it into his empty canteen, and proceeded to find Gina.
She would either be in her house or at Rob's, and since Kyle was in the mansion, Eric decided to check out option two. He headed for the higher order residence area, and sure enough he found a house with a large silver moose embossed on the door. He knocked. Rob pushed the door open.
"Go away," he said, "She doesn't want to see you, and neither do I."
"I just want to talk to her, please," Eric pleaded.
"No. It's over, Eric. Go." Slam.
Eric walked around the side of the house, to the backyard. All the windows were closed and the drapes down, except the upstairs bedroom window. That was open, and he could hear Gina crying within.
"Gina!" he yelled, "Please come down and talk to me!"
She moved to close the window.
"Five minutes!" he screamed, "Five minutes for old time's sake! Five minutes to say good bye. Please."
She stopped. "Five minutes?" she asked, between sobs.
"Five minutes."
Soon she and Rob walked up to him form the front of the house.
"Go ahead," she said, holding back tears.
"This is the antidote to the drug they -"
"I'm not on drugs!" she shouted.
"Yes you are ! Kyle knows it! Rob knows it! Tell her, Rob."
"He's lying honey." Rob said, straight-faced.
"This'll prove it! Dammit, Rob, how can you let her be like this! You fell in love with the same Gina I did, and this isn't her! How can you let her be like this? How can you want to marry her?"
Rob took a deep breath.
"Annette, please go inside," he said with a forced calm. She did. When she was gone he spoke again.
"I know this isn't the girl I fell in love with! It kills me to see her this way! But you're the one who made us do this! Before she met you, she loved her home; she loved her family! She even liked me. But you had to take advantage of her youthful rebellion. You're the real drug! You and the rest of that so-called outside world. And I can't bear to lose Annette to that! I'd rather love and marry her like this than see her slip away completely! And if that means she stays drugged, she stays drugged! Now get out of my life!"
"You're a sick, sad man," said Eric, "And I hope I never see you again." Then he turned and waked away. He walked all the way to the gate, and through the forest where the taxi was waiting.
"You Vlad?" asked the driver.
"No, I'm Eric. Vlad's coming."
"Alrighty. I'm Earl. Those FBI men paid me in advance; we can wait about fifteen minutes without me losing money."
"Good."
And they waited. Earl tried to strike up conversation a few times, but quickly realized Eric was in a dark mood and left him alone. About ten minutes later, Eric saw a figure approaching.
A short, brown haired figure dressed all in white. It couldn't be! He ran out to meet her.
"Gina?"
"Give me the water!" she demanded.
"But you..."
"Give it! I have to know!"
He gave it to her, and she swallowed it.
"Nothing," she said.
"It takes about five minutes."
"Alright, I'll wait five minutes, but no more."
"Same here!" shouted Earl from the cab.
They ignored him. The next five minutes were the longest minutes of Eric's life. They stared at each other with mixed love and hate, as if under a spell, but casting glances at Eric's watch. At four minutes and forty-three seconds, Gina got dizzy and started to fall. Eric caught her.
As she lay in his arm, he saw a light go on in her eyes. A light he hadn't seen in a long time. As his face broke into a smile, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him quickly but seriously on the lips.
"Thanks for coming back for me," she said as he staggered back dumbfounded, "I think I need to go talk to Rob."
She bounded off down the woods path.
"That's it," said Earl. It's been more'n fifteen minutes; I can't wait any longer. If you're coming c'mon."
Before Eric could answer Vlad came walking up the path with a lobster, who held a squiggly piece of glowing red iron.
"Eric!" he shouted, "I just saw Gina! She hugged me. I think she's -"
"Back? Is she ever! And is that -"
"The Heating Element of the Eternal Flame? I believe so. The lobster found it for me."
"I hate to break up this happy ending," said Earl, "But are you guys coming? Cause I'm going."
"Vlad, can you ride with him to get the car? I want to make sure Rob doesn't try anything with Gina."
"No problem. I'll be back in no time at all. Well, obviously in some time, but it won't be a noticeable amount. Well, that's not true either, but at least when you do notice the time you won't notice that it's long. At least, not long by my standards..." He kept talking even when the cab drove off. Things were finally getting back to normal.
"I'm going to find the lobster," said Vlad slowly, "Sweeney and Stuart called us a taxi that will be in the clearing. I will meet you there."
"Ok, Vlad," Eric replied without turning.
"And Eric?" asked Vlad in that same careful tone.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry. About Gina."
Eric was silent. Vlad took this as his cue to leave.
Presently, Eric stopped staring after Kyle and began to search the ransacked church. He searched under the overturned pews, amidst the remains of the statuary, and around the collapsed podium. Finally, near one of the aisles, he ound what he was looking for. The chalice the guests had drunken from was rolling on it's side, and welled in the side was about a gulp of what looked to be water. Perfect. Eric poured it into his empty canteen, and proceeded to find Gina.
She would either be in her house or at Rob's, and since Kyle was in the mansion, Eric decided to check out option two. He headed for the higher order residence area, and sure enough he found a house with a large silver moose embossed on the door. He knocked. Rob pushed the door open.
"Go away," he said, "She doesn't want to see you, and neither do I."
"I just want to talk to her, please," Eric pleaded.
"No. It's over, Eric. Go." Slam.
Eric walked around the side of the house, to the backyard. All the windows were closed and the drapes down, except the upstairs bedroom window. That was open, and he could hear Gina crying within.
"Gina!" he yelled, "Please come down and talk to me!"
She moved to close the window.
"Five minutes!" he screamed, "Five minutes for old time's sake! Five minutes to say good bye. Please."
She stopped. "Five minutes?" she asked, between sobs.
"Five minutes."
Soon she and Rob walked up to him form the front of the house.
"Go ahead," she said, holding back tears.
"This is the antidote to the drug they -"
"I'm not on drugs!" she shouted.
"Yes you are ! Kyle knows it! Rob knows it! Tell her, Rob."
"He's lying honey." Rob said, straight-faced.
"This'll prove it! Dammit, Rob, how can you let her be like this! You fell in love with the same Gina I did, and this isn't her! How can you let her be like this? How can you want to marry her?"
Rob took a deep breath.
"Annette, please go inside," he said with a forced calm. She did. When she was gone he spoke again.
"I know this isn't the girl I fell in love with! It kills me to see her this way! But you're the one who made us do this! Before she met you, she loved her home; she loved her family! She even liked me. But you had to take advantage of her youthful rebellion. You're the real drug! You and the rest of that so-called outside world. And I can't bear to lose Annette to that! I'd rather love and marry her like this than see her slip away completely! And if that means she stays drugged, she stays drugged! Now get out of my life!"
"You're a sick, sad man," said Eric, "And I hope I never see you again." Then he turned and waked away. He walked all the way to the gate, and through the forest where the taxi was waiting.
"You Vlad?" asked the driver.
"No, I'm Eric. Vlad's coming."
"Alrighty. I'm Earl. Those FBI men paid me in advance; we can wait about fifteen minutes without me losing money."
"Good."
And they waited. Earl tried to strike up conversation a few times, but quickly realized Eric was in a dark mood and left him alone. About ten minutes later, Eric saw a figure approaching.
A short, brown haired figure dressed all in white. It couldn't be! He ran out to meet her.
"Gina?"
"Give me the water!" she demanded.
"But you..."
"Give it! I have to know!"
He gave it to her, and she swallowed it.
"Nothing," she said.
"It takes about five minutes."
"Alright, I'll wait five minutes, but no more."
"Same here!" shouted Earl from the cab.
They ignored him. The next five minutes were the longest minutes of Eric's life. They stared at each other with mixed love and hate, as if under a spell, but casting glances at Eric's watch. At four minutes and forty-three seconds, Gina got dizzy and started to fall. Eric caught her.
As she lay in his arm, he saw a light go on in her eyes. A light he hadn't seen in a long time. As his face broke into a smile, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him quickly but seriously on the lips.
"Thanks for coming back for me," she said as he staggered back dumbfounded, "I think I need to go talk to Rob."
She bounded off down the woods path.
"That's it," said Earl. It's been more'n fifteen minutes; I can't wait any longer. If you're coming c'mon."
Before Eric could answer Vlad came walking up the path with a lobster, who held a squiggly piece of glowing red iron.
"Eric!" he shouted, "I just saw Gina! She hugged me. I think she's -"
"Back? Is she ever! And is that -"
"The Heating Element of the Eternal Flame? I believe so. The lobster found it for me."
"I hate to break up this happy ending," said Earl, "But are you guys coming? Cause I'm going."
"Vlad, can you ride with him to get the car? I want to make sure Rob doesn't try anything with Gina."
"No problem. I'll be back in no time at all. Well, obviously in some time, but it won't be a noticeable amount. Well, that's not true either, but at least when you do notice the time you won't notice that it's long. At least, not long by my standards..." He kept talking even when the cab drove off. Things were finally getting back to normal.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Ch. 45
Momentarily, the service started. The orchestra, decent but not especially talented, began to scratch out a slow but light tune. The last guests sat down: two large men who, for lack of anywhere else, had to sit on either side of Eric. Then the procession entered, various high-up relatives of Gina first, then the slightly lower relatives of Rob. Last, (aside from the couple itself) came Gina's father, who appeared to be functioning as both father of the bride and minister. He had with him a large, impressive looking tome. He opened and read some words in a strange language. Then he began.
"Friends, family, followers of the whey. We are gathered here to celebrate a happy union between two great families and two fine, upstanding followers of the Ungulates. Such a union brings much happiness to Engren. But before we begin, let us drink the water of peace from the sacred chalice of Rashukle."
At thisa point, a cup made it's way around the room. More drugs, Eric figured. But when it got to Kyle, to Eric's surprise, he drank. When he finished, he cast a sidelong approving glance at Eric. So when it came around, Eric took a sip, too. When the chalice had circulated (but not to Gina's father himself) another man announced the couple.
"Sister Annette, daughter of our great founder, and her betrothed Brother Rob Bluntz, Silver Moose of the Order of Floobel." The couple, looking sickeningly happy, entered at this cue, and the service began. Gina's father read a long speech describing the bliss of marriage and of the whey and how much like each other they are and some other preachy things, and finally got to the bit Eric had been waiting for.
"And if anyone, for any reason, does not think these two should wed, let him speak now or forever be silent."
That's the point where Eric was going to stand up and deliver his speech, buying 10 precious minutes for something. Unfortunately, about three words earlier two large hands had clamped down on his shoulders and another had covered his mouth. He struggled to stand and speak but he couldn't. He watched Gina's father turn his gaze onto him, and staring straight at Eric, he said,
"No one? Then in that case, I now pronounce you man and - "
"I object!"
All eyes turned to the back of the room, even the thugs loosened their grip enough for Eric to slip out and turn around. At the back of the room, flanked by F.B.I. officers, was Vlad.
"As do I!" added Eric.
"Stop it! You're ruining my wedding!" Gina screamed as panic broke out. The crowd was starting to talk, to murmur.
"What is the meaning of this?!?" screamed her father.
"Your little gated community isn't quite up to Federal code," said Agent Sweeney.
"Of course it is! We pay taxes. We own this land. We are not breaking any laws."
"Oh really? What about the kidnapping of this girl?"
"I wasn't kidnapped! My brother brought me home! I'm his daughter!"
Vlad jumped in. "You've been inhumanely treating a lobster! It's an animal rights law violation!"
"There's no such law, and you have no proof. Now if you cannot find an actual charge, kindly leave this hall!"
"Well, you're also forcing all these people into servitude with drugs," said Eric.
"Nonsense! They all love it here, don't you?"
No answer.
"Don't you?"
No answer. And then, a man spoke up.
"I don't think we do! I can barely remember the last 4 years, but I don't think that was me!"
"Me neither!"
"Where am I?"
The cries came from all over the room. Eric saw Kyle worriedly mouth the words "Only took five" as he ran from the room. He saw Gina rush to her father's side.
"Not so sure now, are you?" asked Eric snidely, "Lock him up guys."
"Not so fast. I'm still not convinced," said Sweeney, "I need some proof to lock this guy up on."
"This isn't proof enough?" Eric yelled over the continuing cries of the crowd.
"Of course not!," said Rob, moving in from the front of the room, "I still believe in the whey, and I wasn't under any drugs!"
"As do we," said some of his family and Gina's.
"And I do!" said Gina, "This must have been a plot to break up my wedding! These folks aren't drugged, they're conspirators!"
Eric didn't understand. Maybe Eric really felt that way, but why was Gina still acting like this? Why hadn't the drug worn off her?
"Look," said the other agent, Agent Stuart, "She's obviously not pressing charges on the kidnapping and we've got no proof of the drugs. This may be a weird religious cult about to be reduced to mob rule, but that's not enough for us to do anything. If you can't find a crime, we're gonna have to go."
"And we'll take along Mr. Berljottsen on charges of manipulating and lying to federal officers," added Sweeney contemptuously.
"Gina," pleaded Eric, "You have to tell him the truth."
"What truth, Eric? I'm sorry, but I love Rob. He's the man for me. You'll always be a great friend, but I just don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry. I wish you'd have said something, instead of organizing this whole horrible spectacle, though. You've caused a lot of trouble over this."
Eric was speechless. Suddenly the whole scene slowed down. The mob, more and more confused and violent raged behind him. Gina's father sweet-talked the agents and Vlad away. Eric barely noticed as they left. He didn't notice the lobster crawling out of his coat and away through the mob. He just kept thinking, 'That's really her. No drugs at all, I was just wrong. She loves Rob Bluntz. It can't be, but it must be.' Finally, Vlad grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
They got into the FBI car and began to drive off, when a man ran up and stopped them. It was Kyle, and he snapped Eric back into reality.
"Here's your charges, officer," he said, "Proof of all the things he was doing. Not just the drugging, but insider trading, mob connections, money laundering, and a few possible murders. It's not pretty."
"It's awfully convenient," Sweeney pointed out.
"I'm his son, Kyle Smith. I've been collecting this stuff for some time. What he was doing was wrong."
Stuart had been looking over the papers. "Turn her around, Sweeney, this is plenty."
They turned around. They handcuffed Milton Smith (Milton!) and dragged him away, needing to forcefully separate Gina from him. She was crying.
"I hate you!" she yelled at Eric, "I wish I'd never met you!" She ran off, and Rob followed her, casting an evil glance back at Eric.
Eric, Vlad, Kyle, and the aristocrats were left alone in the midst of the mob, which were now tearing down the church. One of Kyle's people ran in with a megaphone, and handed it to him.
"Everyone please calm down!" he said, "I know you have lots of questions, but violence and destruction are not the answers! If you all come to the mansion, we will sit down and talk about this like civilized people." He worked at this game for a while, but eventually the people calmed down and headed up the road to the mansion. Kyle sent the aristocrats and his entourage, but hung back with Eric and Vlad. When everyone had gone, he spoke.
"Well, that certainly didn't go as planned, but it went well."
"It did?" asked Eric and Vlad, almost simultaneously.
"Of course. I thought I would have to get my father out of the picture, but now he's out of it but still alive, and as far as he knows I had nothing to do with it. And the whole place is still around, and it's all mine. I'll have to run it a little more cleanly now, with more religious bullshit and fewer drugs, but people will still stay on. The proof I gave the Feds was carefully chosen. They have all they need on dad and nothing on me."
"You are a heartless man," said Vlad.
"True enough."
"You told me you cared about Gina," said Eric.
"Yeah, you ate that right up," he laughed, "But your part in this is done. If you don't cause us anymore trouble, you may go. Even take that stupid artifact."
"You didn't want to help her? Then what was this all about?"
"Power. The water at the beginning of the ceremony was an antidote drug I've been developing for a while, and I've also been securing the loyalty of Dad's few undrugged higher-ups. This was the perfect time to put it all together. While the mob was unruly they would go right for dad, and leave me in charge from here on out. I wasn't expecting the F.B.I., but I've always had a plan for if they ever came around. I just had to fetch the documents. I need Gina here with me, so I made sure she wouldn't be in the room when we drank the stuff."
"You can't keep drugging these people!" shouted Eric, "The Feds'll be back."
"Yes, but there are drugs and there are drugs. I've been working on some that are fully FDA approved. They just work a little differently. Federal law is full of loopholes."
"So we're just supposed to leave, without Gina?" Eric spat?
"I would suggest you do so. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to talk to some unruly townspeople."
"What about the lobster?" asked Vlad.
"Keep the damn thing." And he was gone.
"Friends, family, followers of the whey. We are gathered here to celebrate a happy union between two great families and two fine, upstanding followers of the Ungulates. Such a union brings much happiness to Engren. But before we begin, let us drink the water of peace from the sacred chalice of Rashukle."
At thisa point, a cup made it's way around the room. More drugs, Eric figured. But when it got to Kyle, to Eric's surprise, he drank. When he finished, he cast a sidelong approving glance at Eric. So when it came around, Eric took a sip, too. When the chalice had circulated (but not to Gina's father himself) another man announced the couple.
"Sister Annette, daughter of our great founder, and her betrothed Brother Rob Bluntz, Silver Moose of the Order of Floobel." The couple, looking sickeningly happy, entered at this cue, and the service began. Gina's father read a long speech describing the bliss of marriage and of the whey and how much like each other they are and some other preachy things, and finally got to the bit Eric had been waiting for.
"And if anyone, for any reason, does not think these two should wed, let him speak now or forever be silent."
That's the point where Eric was going to stand up and deliver his speech, buying 10 precious minutes for something. Unfortunately, about three words earlier two large hands had clamped down on his shoulders and another had covered his mouth. He struggled to stand and speak but he couldn't. He watched Gina's father turn his gaze onto him, and staring straight at Eric, he said,
"No one? Then in that case, I now pronounce you man and - "
"I object!"
All eyes turned to the back of the room, even the thugs loosened their grip enough for Eric to slip out and turn around. At the back of the room, flanked by F.B.I. officers, was Vlad.
"As do I!" added Eric.
"Stop it! You're ruining my wedding!" Gina screamed as panic broke out. The crowd was starting to talk, to murmur.
"What is the meaning of this?!?" screamed her father.
"Your little gated community isn't quite up to Federal code," said Agent Sweeney.
"Of course it is! We pay taxes. We own this land. We are not breaking any laws."
"Oh really? What about the kidnapping of this girl?"
"I wasn't kidnapped! My brother brought me home! I'm his daughter!"
Vlad jumped in. "You've been inhumanely treating a lobster! It's an animal rights law violation!"
"There's no such law, and you have no proof. Now if you cannot find an actual charge, kindly leave this hall!"
"Well, you're also forcing all these people into servitude with drugs," said Eric.
"Nonsense! They all love it here, don't you?"
No answer.
"Don't you?"
No answer. And then, a man spoke up.
"I don't think we do! I can barely remember the last 4 years, but I don't think that was me!"
"Me neither!"
"Where am I?"
The cries came from all over the room. Eric saw Kyle worriedly mouth the words "Only took five" as he ran from the room. He saw Gina rush to her father's side.
"Not so sure now, are you?" asked Eric snidely, "Lock him up guys."
"Not so fast. I'm still not convinced," said Sweeney, "I need some proof to lock this guy up on."
"This isn't proof enough?" Eric yelled over the continuing cries of the crowd.
"Of course not!," said Rob, moving in from the front of the room, "I still believe in the whey, and I wasn't under any drugs!"
"As do we," said some of his family and Gina's.
"And I do!" said Gina, "This must have been a plot to break up my wedding! These folks aren't drugged, they're conspirators!"
Eric didn't understand. Maybe Eric really felt that way, but why was Gina still acting like this? Why hadn't the drug worn off her?
"Look," said the other agent, Agent Stuart, "She's obviously not pressing charges on the kidnapping and we've got no proof of the drugs. This may be a weird religious cult about to be reduced to mob rule, but that's not enough for us to do anything. If you can't find a crime, we're gonna have to go."
"And we'll take along Mr. Berljottsen on charges of manipulating and lying to federal officers," added Sweeney contemptuously.
"Gina," pleaded Eric, "You have to tell him the truth."
"What truth, Eric? I'm sorry, but I love Rob. He's the man for me. You'll always be a great friend, but I just don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry. I wish you'd have said something, instead of organizing this whole horrible spectacle, though. You've caused a lot of trouble over this."
Eric was speechless. Suddenly the whole scene slowed down. The mob, more and more confused and violent raged behind him. Gina's father sweet-talked the agents and Vlad away. Eric barely noticed as they left. He didn't notice the lobster crawling out of his coat and away through the mob. He just kept thinking, 'That's really her. No drugs at all, I was just wrong. She loves Rob Bluntz. It can't be, but it must be.' Finally, Vlad grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
They got into the FBI car and began to drive off, when a man ran up and stopped them. It was Kyle, and he snapped Eric back into reality.
"Here's your charges, officer," he said, "Proof of all the things he was doing. Not just the drugging, but insider trading, mob connections, money laundering, and a few possible murders. It's not pretty."
"It's awfully convenient," Sweeney pointed out.
"I'm his son, Kyle Smith. I've been collecting this stuff for some time. What he was doing was wrong."
Stuart had been looking over the papers. "Turn her around, Sweeney, this is plenty."
They turned around. They handcuffed Milton Smith (Milton!) and dragged him away, needing to forcefully separate Gina from him. She was crying.
"I hate you!" she yelled at Eric, "I wish I'd never met you!" She ran off, and Rob followed her, casting an evil glance back at Eric.
Eric, Vlad, Kyle, and the aristocrats were left alone in the midst of the mob, which were now tearing down the church. One of Kyle's people ran in with a megaphone, and handed it to him.
"Everyone please calm down!" he said, "I know you have lots of questions, but violence and destruction are not the answers! If you all come to the mansion, we will sit down and talk about this like civilized people." He worked at this game for a while, but eventually the people calmed down and headed up the road to the mansion. Kyle sent the aristocrats and his entourage, but hung back with Eric and Vlad. When everyone had gone, he spoke.
"Well, that certainly didn't go as planned, but it went well."
"It did?" asked Eric and Vlad, almost simultaneously.
"Of course. I thought I would have to get my father out of the picture, but now he's out of it but still alive, and as far as he knows I had nothing to do with it. And the whole place is still around, and it's all mine. I'll have to run it a little more cleanly now, with more religious bullshit and fewer drugs, but people will still stay on. The proof I gave the Feds was carefully chosen. They have all they need on dad and nothing on me."
"You are a heartless man," said Vlad.
"True enough."
"You told me you cared about Gina," said Eric.
"Yeah, you ate that right up," he laughed, "But your part in this is done. If you don't cause us anymore trouble, you may go. Even take that stupid artifact."
"You didn't want to help her? Then what was this all about?"
"Power. The water at the beginning of the ceremony was an antidote drug I've been developing for a while, and I've also been securing the loyalty of Dad's few undrugged higher-ups. This was the perfect time to put it all together. While the mob was unruly they would go right for dad, and leave me in charge from here on out. I wasn't expecting the F.B.I., but I've always had a plan for if they ever came around. I just had to fetch the documents. I need Gina here with me, so I made sure she wouldn't be in the room when we drank the stuff."
"You can't keep drugging these people!" shouted Eric, "The Feds'll be back."
"Yes, but there are drugs and there are drugs. I've been working on some that are fully FDA approved. They just work a little differently. Federal law is full of loopholes."
"So we're just supposed to leave, without Gina?" Eric spat?
"I would suggest you do so. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to talk to some unruly townspeople."
"What about the lobster?" asked Vlad.
"Keep the damn thing." And he was gone.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Happy Birthday to the Other Side of The Corndog
Here's the big post, a day early to start the festivities. Tomorrow perhaps I'll post something extra. And I won't leave you hanging long. The next post will be up within a week. Writer's Block is over, Year Two will be all about regular updates!
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
An apology and a promise
Any loyal readers who still remain: I apologize profusely for the lapse in my update schedule of late. RL is a doozy, but if I try, I really do have time to update onece a week. As I have said, a big climax is coming up in the story and I want to be able to make it really good. Also, September 29th will be the site's first birthday. So, on that day, I promise the wedding will be posted. I will work on it until then to make it the best climax post I can. In the interim, I will either write one more New Toaster post to fill in some detail I forgot about or try to write a few little off-story projects, just to keep the site alive (That's not a promise, just wishful thinking). In conclusion, thank you all for continuing to read and bear with me for a few weeks and we'll get back on track. Also, let me once again pimp Society's Pants, a site full of writers as good as or better than myself.
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Ch. 44
Over the next 2 days, Eric worked more than he had ever worked in the fields. And if there was one thing worse than work, it was work without complaining about it afterward. And here no one complained. The drugs were strong. Eric kept working though, and pretending to be happy, and deathly avoiding the one thing that would make him happy unti lthe big day finally came. He excitedly woke up and put on his robe. He showed the supervisor the invitation Gina had given him, and he was grudgingly allowed to head to the temple instead of the fields. A brown robed man came up beside him, and Eric knew who it was.
"Have you found the bliss of the whey?" he asked as he always did.
"The whey is a hard journey," Eric replied. It was a carefully planned code, which allowed Kyle to make sure Eric wasn't drugged without seeming conspicuous. A drugged Eric would only say yes, but Eric's faithful yet negative answer would not attract too much attention if they were being spied on. Kyle went on.
"Do you know what you have to do?" he asked.
"Of course. We all must do our part to find the whey."
"Alas our secret lobster still cannot be found, and we must find him soon"
"Of course," Eric replied
"10 minutes," Kyle whispered, and then he was gone.
There was something very exciting about these short cryptic rendezvous. It was like a movie.
Eric turned now, and did not head for the church. Instead he went toward the gate, where he'd planned to meet Vlad before. He knelt down and feeling very stupid, began to whisper sharply and as loudly as he dared.
"Lobster! Lobster! It's me Eric! I need your help!"
He looked through the gate at the forest and saw nothing.
"Vlad!" he tried. Nothing. He should never have told Kyle they had the lobster. He didn't have him any more then anyone. He was just about to give up and leave when he noticed something purple out of the corner of his eye. A purple crestacean, amidst the leaves of the tree.
"How did you? How?" But he cut off his rambling, scooped up the lobster, and stashed him in his robe.
This accomplished, he headed for the church. He was eager to see Gina again. All of his efforts to see her on the little free time he was given had been futile. She was under heavy protection. He made it in and was admitted after showing the invite, though the guard gave him a distasteful look. He sat down in the third row, close enough to do his part, but hopefully not close enough to be noticed. Yet noticed he was doomed to be, as the only brown-robed farmer amongst this aristocratic lot. He felt a space opening around him as the blue, green, purple, and gold robe-wearers inched away from this dirty laborer. Confined to his isolation and feeling increasingly apprehensive, Eric waited.
"Have you found the bliss of the whey?" he asked as he always did.
"The whey is a hard journey," Eric replied. It was a carefully planned code, which allowed Kyle to make sure Eric wasn't drugged without seeming conspicuous. A drugged Eric would only say yes, but Eric's faithful yet negative answer would not attract too much attention if they were being spied on. Kyle went on.
"Do you know what you have to do?" he asked.
"Of course. We all must do our part to find the whey."
"Alas our secret lobster still cannot be found, and we must find him soon"
"Of course," Eric replied
"10 minutes," Kyle whispered, and then he was gone.
There was something very exciting about these short cryptic rendezvous. It was like a movie.
Eric turned now, and did not head for the church. Instead he went toward the gate, where he'd planned to meet Vlad before. He knelt down and feeling very stupid, began to whisper sharply and as loudly as he dared.
"Lobster! Lobster! It's me Eric! I need your help!"
He looked through the gate at the forest and saw nothing.
"Vlad!" he tried. Nothing. He should never have told Kyle they had the lobster. He didn't have him any more then anyone. He was just about to give up and leave when he noticed something purple out of the corner of his eye. A purple crestacean, amidst the leaves of the tree.
"How did you? How?" But he cut off his rambling, scooped up the lobster, and stashed him in his robe.
This accomplished, he headed for the church. He was eager to see Gina again. All of his efforts to see her on the little free time he was given had been futile. She was under heavy protection. He made it in and was admitted after showing the invite, though the guard gave him a distasteful look. He sat down in the third row, close enough to do his part, but hopefully not close enough to be noticed. Yet noticed he was doomed to be, as the only brown-robed farmer amongst this aristocratic lot. He felt a space opening around him as the blue, green, purple, and gold robe-wearers inched away from this dirty laborer. Confined to his isolation and feeling increasingly apprehensive, Eric waited.
Saturday, July 31, 2004
Ch. 43
In the meal hall, when the break came up, Kyle was just where he said he'd be. He didn't look happy.
"What did you mean when you said you had the lobster?" he whispered angrily.
"My friend is waiting outside with him."
"Well, your friend let him get away. Two of my father's goons saw him in the forest and are out looking for him, and he's about to send a lot more. That's how I was planning to decrease the guard at the wedding, but if they catch him now it's no good."
"It's a ploy. Vlad probly let him scurry a little ways then scooped him up, to keep them off guard."
"I don't trust you."
"It's mutual. Do you have a plan or what?"
"Of course I have a plan. Listen carefully. All you have to do is break up the wedding. I want you sitting in the front row, and just like in the movies, right before my father pronounces them married, stand up and yell that you object or something. Make a speech. Just make a diversion and buy time."
"And meanwhile?"
"Meanwhile other plans will be set in motion. I don't want to tell you more in case this next part doesn't work."
"Next part?"
He took out a small clear vile and handed it to Eric.
"Drink this. It should make you immune to the drug for about three days, which is all you'll need. It won't start working til tomorrow morning, so for today I'm swiching your canteen with this one."
"Thanks. So all I have to do is break up the wedding?"
"The rest is taken care of. You and Gina get out, and I get what I need too."
"Which is?"
"Don't worry about it. Now go sit with the other farmers. I've stayed too long already.
"What did you mean when you said you had the lobster?" he whispered angrily.
"My friend is waiting outside with him."
"Well, your friend let him get away. Two of my father's goons saw him in the forest and are out looking for him, and he's about to send a lot more. That's how I was planning to decrease the guard at the wedding, but if they catch him now it's no good."
"It's a ploy. Vlad probly let him scurry a little ways then scooped him up, to keep them off guard."
"I don't trust you."
"It's mutual. Do you have a plan or what?"
"Of course I have a plan. Listen carefully. All you have to do is break up the wedding. I want you sitting in the front row, and just like in the movies, right before my father pronounces them married, stand up and yell that you object or something. Make a speech. Just make a diversion and buy time."
"And meanwhile?"
"Meanwhile other plans will be set in motion. I don't want to tell you more in case this next part doesn't work."
"Next part?"
He took out a small clear vile and handed it to Eric.
"Drink this. It should make you immune to the drug for about three days, which is all you'll need. It won't start working til tomorrow morning, so for today I'm swiching your canteen with this one."
"Thanks. So all I have to do is break up the wedding?"
"The rest is taken care of. You and Gina get out, and I get what I need too."
"Which is?"
"Don't worry about it. Now go sit with the other farmers. I've stayed too long already.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Vacation/Society's Pants
I hate to leave the story like this, but I have to go to some camps and things, and then I have band camp and Jekyll and Hyde, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to update. There may be something up in early August. After that I intend to continue updating this, but you can also read my writing every third post or so at Society's Pants, a new round robin story blog started by my cousin, my brother, and I.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Ch. 42
Vlad had gotten the car squared away, but it was dark and he was tired, and he didn't cherish a walk back to the forest. He figured he could risk a night at the hotel. He bought a cheap room, and had a sleepless night, tossing and turning. Finally he got up and walked to his window. He looked off towards the woods, but he couldn't see anything. He shouldn't have left Eric. Who knows what trouble he might be in? Or when he might need to get away? And then there was Ming. What had the FBI done to the house? To Ming? He couldn't stay in this hotel room anymore. He gathered up his things, put on his pants, and left. When he got to the desk, the manager was arguing.
"Gentlemen, we promise our customers a goodnight sleep. I am not going to ring anyone at this hour!"
"Y'see this badge, Mister. What does it say?"
"You do not have a search or arrest warrant for this establishment, so your badge means nothing to me. Now, if you do not want a room, then please go."
Vlad recognized the agents. The same two who had been pursuing them in Indy. He needed to get out, but he didn't want to leave without paying. He retreated a little ways into the hall.
"Y'know, sir, I wasn't gonna say anything, but I don't know if that plastering is up to Maine state code."
"Even if you knew anything about Maine code (which you don't, as a member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation) and even if my plaster wasn't 100% union installed, You would still be blackmailing me, and I would not respond well to it."
"Alright, wise guy. We'll just wait here in the lobby."
"I'm afraid that would be loitering, and I'd have to ask you to leave."
The other agent finally spoke. "You mean to say you would have an FBI agent arrested for loitering?"
While the two continued their discussion, Mr. Sweeney (the short white guy, who had spoken first) started wandering toward the hallway. Vlad started to run, but it was too late. He'd been seen.
"If you stop right there, Mr. Berljottsen, there won't be any trouble. I just want to talk to you."
Vlad took a deep breath.
"Ok. I like to talk."
"Gentlemen, we promise our customers a goodnight sleep. I am not going to ring anyone at this hour!"
"Y'see this badge, Mister. What does it say?"
"You do not have a search or arrest warrant for this establishment, so your badge means nothing to me. Now, if you do not want a room, then please go."
Vlad recognized the agents. The same two who had been pursuing them in Indy. He needed to get out, but he didn't want to leave without paying. He retreated a little ways into the hall.
"Y'know, sir, I wasn't gonna say anything, but I don't know if that plastering is up to Maine state code."
"Even if you knew anything about Maine code (which you don't, as a member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation) and even if my plaster wasn't 100% union installed, You would still be blackmailing me, and I would not respond well to it."
"Alright, wise guy. We'll just wait here in the lobby."
"I'm afraid that would be loitering, and I'd have to ask you to leave."
The other agent finally spoke. "You mean to say you would have an FBI agent arrested for loitering?"
While the two continued their discussion, Mr. Sweeney (the short white guy, who had spoken first) started wandering toward the hallway. Vlad started to run, but it was too late. He'd been seen.
"If you stop right there, Mr. Berljottsen, there won't be any trouble. I just want to talk to you."
Vlad took a deep breath.
"Ok. I like to talk."
Friday, July 02, 2004
Ch. 41
The next morning, Eric woke up with no clue where he was. It was clearly not his room at home. Nor was it another hotel, or some woman's sofa in Wheatsfield. It was a mostly empty room, except for his bed, a table with a book on it and a fresh robe hanging up. Presently, he remembered the previous day. As it came back in bits and pieces, it began to dawn on him how screwed he was. Also that he needed to meet Vlad soon.
He put on the new robe, and was about to head out of the door, when an oddly familiar man rushed in.
"Eric Smellick?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"Yeah."
"If you want to save Gina, it would be best if you came with me now."
That guy was smart, said Eric's better judgement, sending some flunky to test my loyalty to the cult would be just his style.
"Of course I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, "What would I save her from? She's happily engaged."
"I know you don't believe that because I kept them from putting drugs in your tea, at great risk to myself, although not as great as the risk of my coming here. Now I want to help my sister, too, so cut the act and come with me."
Eric's better judgement gave the go ahead, and he followed the man out of the room. The man handed him a pair of sunglasses.
"Put these on. It was brave of you to come in here as a convert, but stupid. How did you think my father kept these people in his cult? It's not the food, and it's definitely not the fashion. He's discovered a cheap to produce and very effective mind control drug. It's in the water everywhere but the mansion. You know why not there?"
"He didn't want to drug himself?"
"That, and he didn't think he needed to drug his family. Gina made him think twice though, and when Rob and I brought her back, he drugged her. And I think he's trying to get me too, but he's already told me too much about how to run this place."
"You're telling me, that despite the fact that YOU were an accessory to Gina's kidnapping, you have only her best interests at heart now?"
"That's all I've ever had, and I don't think you're in a position to be giving me any bullshit, Eric." He spat the word 'Eric' like poison.
"No, there's enough of that around here already." Eric shot back.
"You know, I'm trying to be on your side. And for your information, I saved Gina from the kidnapper. He wasn't one of ours. Rob thought he was, but the fact is he was gonna hold her as a hostage against dad. When Rob found out who he was (and it took the oaf long enough) he called me, because he knew I'd cut the politics and just save my little sister. Which I did. I know you care about her or else you wouldn't be there, so let's help her out, ok?"
"I'm with you til she and I get out of here, and no longer. And I want an artifact."
"What's it gonna take to drill it through your head that you've got NO BARGAINING CHIPS?"
"I've still got one."
"And what's that, Eric?"
"The Sacred Lobster," (beat) "Of bun-Doom."
The man was silent for a minute. Eric had obviously caught him off guard with that one.
"That'll make things easier," he finally said, "Have I told you my name?"
"No."
"You can call me Kyle. Now, you need to get out to the fields, or they'll get suspicious. I'll meet you in the meal hall when your break comes up."
"See you then," Eric replied, unsuccessfully hiding his bitterness. He headed out to the fields, by way of his rendevous point with Vlad.
He put on the new robe, and was about to head out of the door, when an oddly familiar man rushed in.
"Eric Smellick?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"Yeah."
"If you want to save Gina, it would be best if you came with me now."
That guy was smart, said Eric's better judgement, sending some flunky to test my loyalty to the cult would be just his style.
"Of course I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, "What would I save her from? She's happily engaged."
"I know you don't believe that because I kept them from putting drugs in your tea, at great risk to myself, although not as great as the risk of my coming here. Now I want to help my sister, too, so cut the act and come with me."
Eric's better judgement gave the go ahead, and he followed the man out of the room. The man handed him a pair of sunglasses.
"Put these on. It was brave of you to come in here as a convert, but stupid. How did you think my father kept these people in his cult? It's not the food, and it's definitely not the fashion. He's discovered a cheap to produce and very effective mind control drug. It's in the water everywhere but the mansion. You know why not there?"
"He didn't want to drug himself?"
"That, and he didn't think he needed to drug his family. Gina made him think twice though, and when Rob and I brought her back, he drugged her. And I think he's trying to get me too, but he's already told me too much about how to run this place."
"You're telling me, that despite the fact that YOU were an accessory to Gina's kidnapping, you have only her best interests at heart now?"
"That's all I've ever had, and I don't think you're in a position to be giving me any bullshit, Eric." He spat the word 'Eric' like poison.
"No, there's enough of that around here already." Eric shot back.
"You know, I'm trying to be on your side. And for your information, I saved Gina from the kidnapper. He wasn't one of ours. Rob thought he was, but the fact is he was gonna hold her as a hostage against dad. When Rob found out who he was (and it took the oaf long enough) he called me, because he knew I'd cut the politics and just save my little sister. Which I did. I know you care about her or else you wouldn't be there, so let's help her out, ok?"
"I'm with you til she and I get out of here, and no longer. And I want an artifact."
"What's it gonna take to drill it through your head that you've got NO BARGAINING CHIPS?"
"I've still got one."
"And what's that, Eric?"
"The Sacred Lobster," (beat) "Of bun-Doom."
The man was silent for a minute. Eric had obviously caught him off guard with that one.
"That'll make things easier," he finally said, "Have I told you my name?"
"No."
"You can call me Kyle. Now, you need to get out to the fields, or they'll get suspicious. I'll meet you in the meal hall when your break comes up."
"See you then," Eric replied, unsuccessfully hiding his bitterness. He headed out to the fields, by way of his rendevous point with Vlad.
Sunday, June 27, 2004
Ch. 40
From his vantage point amidst the bushes, Vlad overheard voices on the road.
"I don't see why we have to check. He said he hitchhiked."
"Yeah, and if we know he was lying about that then we'll know he was lyin' about the vision. Plus, the car might attract attention, if there is one."
"Alright, but you know I hate these woods."
"What, you're afraid something'll jump out at us?"
Vlad considered jumping out at them, but decided against it. If they spotted him at all they'd either report him or he'd have to stop them from coming back, inwhich case their absence would be noticed. On the other hand, he couldn't let them get the car, and they were moving faster along the path then he ever could through the trees. He could see only one way out. Apologizing profusely to the lobster, he hurled it at one of the men, hitting him squarely in the back.
"Ow!"
"What, something get you?"
"Something hit me in the back. Check it out, will ya?"
"Nothing there. Wait a minute, do you see that?"
"The Sacred Lobster! Let's get him!"
They ran back the way they came, after the fleeing lobster. Vlad emerged from the bushes and bolted down the path, as fast as his legs would carry him. Exhausted and out of breath he reached the car. But what would he do with it, he wondered as he climbed in. He drove back onto the road and headed in towards the city. A garage, maybe. Of course, this would leave Eric on his own for a while, but atleast the lobster was back there. Everything would work out ok, Vlad was sure.
"I don't see why we have to check. He said he hitchhiked."
"Yeah, and if we know he was lying about that then we'll know he was lyin' about the vision. Plus, the car might attract attention, if there is one."
"Alright, but you know I hate these woods."
"What, you're afraid something'll jump out at us?"
Vlad considered jumping out at them, but decided against it. If they spotted him at all they'd either report him or he'd have to stop them from coming back, inwhich case their absence would be noticed. On the other hand, he couldn't let them get the car, and they were moving faster along the path then he ever could through the trees. He could see only one way out. Apologizing profusely to the lobster, he hurled it at one of the men, hitting him squarely in the back.
"Ow!"
"What, something get you?"
"Something hit me in the back. Check it out, will ya?"
"Nothing there. Wait a minute, do you see that?"
"The Sacred Lobster! Let's get him!"
They ran back the way they came, after the fleeing lobster. Vlad emerged from the bushes and bolted down the path, as fast as his legs would carry him. Exhausted and out of breath he reached the car. But what would he do with it, he wondered as he climbed in. He drove back onto the road and headed in towards the city. A garage, maybe. Of course, this would leave Eric on his own for a while, but atleast the lobster was back there. Everything would work out ok, Vlad was sure.
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Ch. 39
The men with clipboards took Eric clear across the compound. It was a long walk, and he took time to take in his surroundings. Many people were about, in various colors of robes. They were all smiling and happy. How does that work? How does a crazy guy make a whole community happy by taking their money? He just didn't get it. His escorts made little conversation, after asking a few more questions. One that particularly amused him was "Have you seen this lobster?" At that point they held up a picture of the Sacred Lobster, symbols and all. They also asked how he came. He knew if he lied it would be easy to check, but if he told the truth he stood to lose a getaway vehicle. He finally decided to lie, and told them he hitchhiked.
Eventually they reached a place where most of the settlement ended. That is to say, they reached the far gate, but in the middle (next to a large guard of course) was a narrow path with iron gate and trees on each side. This path took them up a hill to a grand house. One of the men walked to an intercom and held down the button.
"Stitser and Wobbles, with the vision guy."
"Come on in," a gruff voice answered.
They opened the door and walked down a long hallway which opened in to a medium sized room with a large chair on the far wall, a couch on the left wall and a few smaller chairs around. A man was sitting in the large chair, talking to Gina. Eric arrived in time to hear her say, in a voice that he could not believe was hers,
"I love you too, Daddy. Good night."
She turned and left down the hallway they'd just left. He winked at her. She looked at him and squealed.
"Daddy! This is my friend Eric." She turned back to him. "I am so glad you've seen the Whey, Eric, and I want to apologize for all the blasphemy I said before. It is so good to see you!" Eric was shocked. Who was this girl and what had she done with Gina?
the man spoke now. "Wait, Annette. This is a friend of yours? Brother Stitser here says he had a vision of Engren."
"Good for you brother Stitser!" she replied.
"No," the man explained, "Stitser says that your friend had a vision of Engren. Don't you think that's a little odd?"
"No, I'm sure Engren appeared to Eric in order to undo the damage I did by blaspheming him. He's so wise."
"Honey," the man said levelly, "I'd like you to stay here for a bit. Ok?"
"Sure!" she replied and sat down on the couch, "Come sit with me Eric!" He did, and Stitser, confused but still trying to do his duty, did too. Wobbles muttered something about having to go greet the next guy and ran off.
Gina's father spoke. "So, Eric, friend of my daughter, I suppose I owe you thanks for making sure no harm came to her. She has told me of your quest, so I was expecting you to come, either to rescue her or for the Briskol Ip. I was not expecting you to come as a prospective member. So tell me about your vision."
"Well," Eric began uneasily, "It's a pretty standard vision. Ergen -"
"Engren." Gina supplied helpfully.
"Engren appeared and said to me that the only way to help Gina was to give up my silly toaster quest and see the Whey. He told me how to get here."
"And what of the other man, and the Sacred Lobster?"
"Vlad said I was crazy and he wouldn't come. He hid the lobster from me."
"I see. Stitser, will you fetch some tea?"
"certainly, sir" Stitser replied. He got up and left.
"Well," the man continued, "As suspicious as I am inclined to be, I think you speak the truth. How great is the way of the Whey, when even my daughter's disappearance can be a blessing. What can you bring to the community, Eric?"
"I'm a data-processor."
"Well," the man laughed humorlessly, "We've no data to be processed here. You'll work in the fields."
"Do you suppose," Eric ventured, "I could talk to Gina for a bit?"
"Plenty of time for that later. Oh look the tea's here. Won't you have some?"
"No thanks," said Eric.
"Oh come, you shouldn't be rude to your host you know."
He drank the tea, despite his misgivings that it was drugged. It was, as it turned out, Chai and quite good.
"You'll start in the morning. Go with Stitser, he'll show you your room in the village."
Eric did as he was told. Just as he and Stitser were leaving, Gina yelled, "Wait one minute!" and ran off.
"Very well," said her father, and gestured for them to sit back down. In a minute Gina was back with a card. She handed it to Eric. Before he could even open it, she exclaimed, "It's an invitation to my wedding! You remember Rob, right? We're getting married in three days! And now that you're here you can come!" She hugged him. She had never hugged him before.
Eventually they reached a place where most of the settlement ended. That is to say, they reached the far gate, but in the middle (next to a large guard of course) was a narrow path with iron gate and trees on each side. This path took them up a hill to a grand house. One of the men walked to an intercom and held down the button.
"Stitser and Wobbles, with the vision guy."
"Come on in," a gruff voice answered.
They opened the door and walked down a long hallway which opened in to a medium sized room with a large chair on the far wall, a couch on the left wall and a few smaller chairs around. A man was sitting in the large chair, talking to Gina. Eric arrived in time to hear her say, in a voice that he could not believe was hers,
"I love you too, Daddy. Good night."
She turned and left down the hallway they'd just left. He winked at her. She looked at him and squealed.
"Daddy! This is my friend Eric." She turned back to him. "I am so glad you've seen the Whey, Eric, and I want to apologize for all the blasphemy I said before. It is so good to see you!" Eric was shocked. Who was this girl and what had she done with Gina?
the man spoke now. "Wait, Annette. This is a friend of yours? Brother Stitser here says he had a vision of Engren."
"Good for you brother Stitser!" she replied.
"No," the man explained, "Stitser says that your friend had a vision of Engren. Don't you think that's a little odd?"
"No, I'm sure Engren appeared to Eric in order to undo the damage I did by blaspheming him. He's so wise."
"Honey," the man said levelly, "I'd like you to stay here for a bit. Ok?"
"Sure!" she replied and sat down on the couch, "Come sit with me Eric!" He did, and Stitser, confused but still trying to do his duty, did too. Wobbles muttered something about having to go greet the next guy and ran off.
Gina's father spoke. "So, Eric, friend of my daughter, I suppose I owe you thanks for making sure no harm came to her. She has told me of your quest, so I was expecting you to come, either to rescue her or for the Briskol Ip. I was not expecting you to come as a prospective member. So tell me about your vision."
"Well," Eric began uneasily, "It's a pretty standard vision. Ergen -"
"Engren." Gina supplied helpfully.
"Engren appeared and said to me that the only way to help Gina was to give up my silly toaster quest and see the Whey. He told me how to get here."
"And what of the other man, and the Sacred Lobster?"
"Vlad said I was crazy and he wouldn't come. He hid the lobster from me."
"I see. Stitser, will you fetch some tea?"
"certainly, sir" Stitser replied. He got up and left.
"Well," the man continued, "As suspicious as I am inclined to be, I think you speak the truth. How great is the way of the Whey, when even my daughter's disappearance can be a blessing. What can you bring to the community, Eric?"
"I'm a data-processor."
"Well," the man laughed humorlessly, "We've no data to be processed here. You'll work in the fields."
"Do you suppose," Eric ventured, "I could talk to Gina for a bit?"
"Plenty of time for that later. Oh look the tea's here. Won't you have some?"
"No thanks," said Eric.
"Oh come, you shouldn't be rude to your host you know."
He drank the tea, despite his misgivings that it was drugged. It was, as it turned out, Chai and quite good.
"You'll start in the morning. Go with Stitser, he'll show you your room in the village."
Eric did as he was told. Just as he and Stitser were leaving, Gina yelled, "Wait one minute!" and ran off.
"Very well," said her father, and gestured for them to sit back down. In a minute Gina was back with a card. She handed it to Eric. Before he could even open it, she exclaimed, "It's an invitation to my wedding! You remember Rob, right? We're getting married in three days! And now that you're here you can come!" She hugged him. She had never hugged him before.
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