Joy in the Night
One time their was a young girl and her name was Joy and she was of pale skin and dark black hair; her room was draped with the simple efficiency of common-wealth and clean and mostly white with its pale blue hues from the vast moonlit night. The night breathed in terror as young Joy could not sleep and opened her sash to let in the cool damp breeze of the night. In her gown she lay in fright wondering why she felt so alone. Continue reading
Dear Grand-Pa Wise,
How are you? I am well. I wanted to write you a letter; I am grounded. The kids at school were making fun of my hair, so I put paste on Sally McFarkle’s long brown hair. Her friend laughed, so I got in trouble. I apologized to Sally, still got sent to the office. Hence, no chess today. I am supposed to be cleaning my room, right now. I cleaned it a while ago.
I wanted to write you, however I did not know what to say. You always answer my questions; for that I am grateful. I am working on my book, “The Golden Dragon”. I write about three pages a day before I go to bed. I would much rather read; I read to write better. I am describing an adventure of a man sent to slay a terrible man-eating dragon that does not even accept payment for nonviolence.
At any rate, what did I come up with for inspiration? Was it a photo? No, it was not a photo… it was page 29 of my spelling dictionary from the Oxford press. I was going to write you a poem: “About a Beach,” The wind blew, the woman knew, and the man saw no dead fishes. “Beach” was the first word I saw.
Another word was more inspirational, however. Have you ever heard of the word, “Bedeck?” I had not. What do you think it means? Here is a hint; I will use it in a sentence. The mother of the young prodigy decided to bedeck her Christmas tree. Here is another one. The wife from India was bedecked with gold and sapphires. Here is one last sentence; I think you may have already guessed the meaning of bedeck. How was the 4th place Olympic Finnish swimmer bedecked? His team gave him a green honorable mention ribbon.
You may have guessed it, bedeck means to adorn. Well, I must conclude this letter. I am going to do some reading. I missed seeing you today. I look forward to our next lesson in chess. I love you grand-pa; please, tell grand-ma I said, “Hello.”
Love always,
Ned
Cecilia’s Gain, Part 4
Cecilia Evans sure missed her husband, Christian. She was happy, though. For one, she was rather wealthy. She kept to herself, lived modestly. Her donations to organizations in town did not necessarily make her a known aristocrat; she still thought about teaching. Ms. Evans was set, mind you; she lived off her investments. Her residual income paid her bills. Cecilia treated herself and Muria to a nice meal in an upscale restaurant once every 5 weeks. They always chased after a new dish or flavor. Cecilia paid off Muria’s credit cards.
Cecilia’s private school was for children ages 6 or 7 through 11 or 12. The school employed about 24 workers, the students behaved and learned well. Her art museum idea was expensive, however other entities helped by investing. The vast structure was made of polished white marble with cloudy grey lines waving about. Exhibits included featured artists from all over the world – some artists were still alive and made an appearance. Others were not there, however lectures on their art and their biographical history were given.
Cecilia eventually began to enjoy life. She kept to her house immaculate and stayed busy. “I think I am going to try again with the teaching,” she said to Muria one evening, over dinner. They split a large bowl of pasta drizzled with a special oil, rare spices, and steamed chicken. “Where are you going to apply? Why do you want to do it? Are you not happy that you are not forced to teach?” asked Muria. “I am going to speak with the board of a 2-A, ‘smaller’, school on the outskirts of town. They are ‘The Bandits’ and have a fighting squirrel for their mascot. I have a decent chance of getting the job; I think I would do best teaching in a smaller school. I want to do it because I love to teach; I will be happy either way,” said Cecilia.
Cecilia did as she spoke of early Monday morning. She dressed up nicely and brought a newly revised resume to the director of the school district, Mr. Huffenpower. He said they would be hiring three teachers this next year; one would need to be okay with coaching. Cecilia was glad to meet the nice man. He was well-educated, had a master’s degree in education. According to Mr. Huffenpower, his forte was sociological research.
A week or two went by and Cecilia was called in for an interview. It went well; she would teach Math and English to freshmen. She would also take on the responsibility of an assistant women’s basketball coach. She was so excited she called up Muria as soon as she got home.
“I got the job!” said Cecilia, “I am going to teach in this town!” “I am sorry, I cannot talk right now,” said Muria, “Come over, though.” Not even considering the length of the walk, Cecilia went over to Muria’s. Muria answered the door saying, “Come on in,” motioned for Cecilia to come on inside. The two sat on one of Muria’s extravagant couches. Cecilia told her all about the interview. She explained how she was going to coach young girls on the basketball court.
“I am really happy for you.”
Muria instinctively placed her hand on Cecilia’s thigh.
A Nice Arrangement
Once upon a time, there were two people who worked a late night shift. One of their names was Lucy Thrall. The other person’s name was Charlie Crown.
The two coincidentally were without work and found work during the holiday season. A large merchandising store placed an ad in a popular newspaper that said, “Now Hiring Seasonal Workers.” Lucy and Charlie both worked in shipping, loaded boxes into large trucks for six hours a night. They worked six days a week.
The two had worked together for three weeks. Charlie loved Lucy; her husband had left her about a year ago. Charlie thought, “What happens when this job is over? How will I still speak with Lucy?” She still had a lot to talk about; she was not quite through telling Charlie about her personal problems, in Charlie’s guesses.
“What would you think if I bought you dinner sometime?” asked Charlie, one night. “Are you asking me to go on a date?” asked Lucy. “No,” said Charlie, “I just thought it might be nice to share dinner with someone – I have not gone out to eat in a nice restaurant in months.” “Where would we go?” asked Lucy. “What do you have in mind?” asked Charlie. “The nice restaurant on 7th and Elk seems interesting. I hear the food is phenomenal, though it is kind-of expensive,” said Lucy.
“It sounds like a good idea,” said Charlie, “When would be a convenient time to go?” “I can meet you there on Friday at 6:30 PM,” said Ms. Thrall; “I will be there,” said Mr. Crown. The two ended their conversation and went back to work. Their normal hour-long lunch break was over. They worked through the night. Charlie was happy that he would see Lucy outside of work. He wanted what she did; he wanted to make her happy.
Friday came and Charlie dressed to kill. He shaved his entire body; put on his nicest slacks and a casual business dress shirt; and a minimal splash of cologne and his nicest watch. With his best shoes on, Mr. Crown walked out of his door in good time. He got to the restaurant early. He had made reservations for a table of two, Mr. Crown and Ms. Thrall. Charlie made it to the restaurant by 6:12 PM. The host checked his listing and found Charlie and Lucy’s name written down for 6:30 PM. “Right this way,” said the nicely dressed host. Charlie followed the host, tried to absorb the atmosphere normally only known of by common aristocrats in the surrounding area.
Charlie was sat down at a nice table towards the back of the restaurant. The lighting was romantic and the place was clean. “I hope Lucy enjoys this,” thought Charlie, “It sure is a nice place.” A server named, Jonah came over to see Charlie. Jonah was a highly presentable individual – he did not make mistakes. Jonah was dressed to perfection. “Hi, my name is Jonah, and I will be your server, tonight,” said Jonah. “It is nice to meet you,” said Charlie. Charlie’s eyes were already on the host-stand. It was not even 6:30 PM, and he was watching for Lucy.
“I am waiting for an acquaintance of mine,” said Charlie, “She should be here any minute.” “Okay,” said Jonah, “Can I bring you anything?” “May I have a glass of ice water?” asked Charlie. “Sure,” said Jonah. Jonah left and returned with a glass of ice water, tended to his other patrons while keeping Charlie’s presence known. Charlie watched his watch. 6:30 PM passed and Lucy was not there. Charlie noticed the nice arrangement of flowers on the table and thought to himself, “That is a lovely arrangement of flowers, there.” He watched the host’s stand. There was no Lucy to be seen.
Jonah checked on Charlie at 6:35. “Do you think she is coming?” asked Jonah, trying to be as nice as possible. “She may be running late,” said Charlie. “We both work at night; she may be tired or sleeping,” he thought aloud. “May I bring you an appetizer while you wait?” asked Jonah. It was clear that Charlie was not leaving just yet. “What do you have available?” asked Charlie. Jonah handed him a menu sheet with the word “Appetizers” on the top of it. Jonah saw many different treats and good ideas. He saw one line that advertised a fried escargot basket for 7$. “What do you think of the fried snails?” asked Charlie.
“I eat them all the time and I think they are great,” said Jonah, “They come with a dipping sauce that is similar to marinara.” “I guess I will try some of those,” said Charlie, “I hope Lucy is on the way. This arrangement of flowers is very nice.” “Thank you,” said Jonah, “One of the cooks and I chose those. They are combinations of pink, white, and violet orchids.” “I am impressed,” said Charlie Crown. Jonah left and returned in 6 minutes with a basket of fried snails and dipping sauce. “Still no sign of Lucy?” asked Jonah. “No,” said Charlie, “Thank you for the snails.”
Charlie ate the snails, one by one; the flowers reminded him of florists – they were without flaw. Half of an hour had gone by, and Lucy had not come into the restaurant. Jonah came and checked on Charlie a couple of times; they both decided that she might not be coming. 7:30 PM passed by, and Jonah came over to Charlie. “Would you like to order a meal?” asked Jonah. “Do you have anything to go?” asked Charlie. “We have some toasted lunch sandwiches that are pretty good,” said Jonah, “Would you like to try one of those?”
“How much are they?” asked Charlie, he had planned to pay for two luxurious dinners. He was not too concerned about the cost of a lunch sandwich. “My favorite one is a Philly cheese-steak sandwich with mozzarella and little yellow chili peppers,” said Jonah, “It is 7$.” “That sounds splendid,” said Mr. Crown. Jonah brought him the sandwich in a Styrofoam to-go container; it was nearing 8 PM. The server also brought Charlie his check. “Thank you,” said Charlie, as he looked at the check. The check had an automatic gratuity on it for 2$. It totaled 17$, due to 1$ for the cost of the glass of water. “Can I pay you here?” asked Charlie. “Sure,” said Jonah.
Mr. Crown handed Jonah 25$ in cash and enjoyed one last gaze upon the pretty orchids. Ms. Thrall must not have been able to make it, somehow. He shook Jonah’s hand. Both said, “Thank you,” and Charlie left to go get ready for work.
Back to the Park
One time, a young boy named Ned enjoyed going to the park to see his grandfather, Mr. Wise. Ned was happy; he had not played a chess game with Mr. Wise in quite some time… 6 days. During the last game, Mr. Wise and Ned displayed complicated exchanges on the chess board. Mr. Wise won.
The two set up the pieces and Ned moved first. “Grandpa,” asked Ned, “What was your house like when you were 12?” “Things were much different back then,” said Mr. Wise, “I shared a room with my sister for a while, then we moved into a three-bedroom house before I went to work for the electric company.”
“What did you do for the electric company?” asked Ned; the two began to exchange chess pieces during the early parts of the game. “I helped them run electricity lines all over the state,” said Mr. Wise. “Wow,” said Ned. Ned was commonly impressed with his grandfather. “Were they the lines like we see high up in the air on the sides of the road today?” asked Ned. “Yes,” said his grandfather trying to decide where to move. He had a bishop under attack by a rook.
“These days things are different from how they used to be, in regards to electrical wires,” said Mr. Wise. “How so?” asked Ned. “Well,” said Mr. Wise, “A long time ago the wires were just thick enough to work; were not made with newer alloys; and they most certainly could not withstand the storms that the newer lines can.” “Are the kinds you used still used?” asked Ned. “That is good question,” said Mr. Wise. Both chess players were trying to plot and arrange their pieces defensively to organize a checkmate.
“To answer you adequately,” said Mr. Wise, he was impressed with the current display of the chess board and his grandson’s use of it, “The older lines we ran are still up and working fine in places without devastating or even mildly dangerous weather. When bad weather came over the years, electric companies installed the newer, more durable lines. “Wow,” said Ned, thinking about his pieces and how they were arranged on the chess board. The two continued to exchange pieces without wasting too much time in contemplation.
“You said you moved from one house to another one?” asked Ned. “It was not too big of a deal,” said Mr. Wise, “Our first house was very small. It had a bathroom, a kitchen, and two bedrooms. As my little sister grew older, my mom and dad thought she needed her own room. My father was a plumber. He did a good enough job for a whole year, one time, and we got a good deal on a small 3-bedroom house that actually had an air conditioner.” “The other house did not have one?” asked Ned. “No,” said Mr. Wise. “What did your mom do for work?” asked Ned. “Most women those days stayed at home. She was a nurse’s assistant, however. ‘Dirty jobs pay,’ she used to say,” said Mr. Wise. Ned somehow felt his grandfather. Mr. Wise was a hardworking man for most of his life, even after retiring. He edited/published a hunting periodical.
Ned won the chess game; his mother would be there soon. “Nice game,” said Ned. “Sure, sure,” said Mr. Wise, “I almost had you toward the end.” “I thought I saw what you were up to,” said Ned, “I moved my queen and the knight without too much thought of what you were going to do with your pieces.”
“So, what do you want to do when you grow up?” asked Ned’s grandfather. “I want to be a writer,” said Ned, “I have already started my first book about a man sent to slay a large golden-scaled, man-eating dragon. I am pretty sure that I will have to work for the grocery store or a restaurant to go to college, though.” Ned’s mother was pulling up, and his grandfather was putting away the chess pieces. “It is like that old saying…” said Mr. Wise, “‘Do not quite your day job!'” Ned smiled and gave his grandfather a usual hug. His grandfather waved goodbye . Ned and his mother drove away.
A Date
“Pardon me,sir” said the twenty-two year old female named Anne. “Oh no,” said a middle-aged man named Mr. Worksenotatal, “Excuse me.” The young woman was in a hurry to get a letter in the mail at the post office. He was not even paying attention; he was off of work for the day and trying to decide on his next direction of lonely venture. Continue reading
Something I Would Not Mind
“Anything is possible,” said Mick Harmon, Analysts Specialist of Invecor, a brokerage firm I recently accepted a job offer from. “So I could take this object, bring it back here, and it would be mine?” I asked. “As long as you do not mind being in the movie and wearing a nice suit,” said Mick.
“I love to dress up,” I said, “How will the filming crews keep up with me?” “There will be four of them. You will leave one to get to the next one. We are going to time you; overly wealthy investors are going to be racing against your time in other vehicles. Your trip will be from New York, New York to Orlando in Florida. Once in Orlando, your mission will be complete and you can go anywhere you choose in your object.”
“That is so awesome,” I said. I shook Mick’s hand; accepted the folder full of documents I was to bring to New York, in person; and made my way to the bus stop. I was well on my way to New York; I would be driving South in the newest Bugatti made. It was on.
♦
The Return of Ned and His Grandfather
“I am happy about our new writing assignment,” said Ned, “It has to do with voice; it covers the three main aspects of what an author can use with the narration of a written story.” “Interesting,” said Ned’s Grandfather, Mr. Clark.
Ned was a ten-year-old boy playing chess with his grandfather on a Saturday. His mother let him go to the park and play chess with his grandfather for reasons like good behavior and high grades. If Ned got into trouble or fell behind with his homework, he would not get to see Mr. Clark.
Ned was happy to be playing chess. Win or lose, he was there to learn. He usually only lost if he looked over something, or if Mr. Clark could spoil his plans. Ned read books on playing chess as a seven-year-old; he was well on his way to becoming a master of sorts, one day.
“Did you get the big box of books I gave to your mother?” asked Mr. Clark. “Yes,” said Ned, “She wanted to throw them out. I had to beg and plead for it. I mowed the yard to keep it, had to hide one of the books for a short while in case it was ‘restricted’ from my reading. She said it was from the Swanks. Did they move?” “No,” said Mr. Clark, “Dr. Swank and his wife were cleaning out a bunch of stuff. He let me have over fifty of his books from college. His wife was going to throw them out.” “I really appreciate it, Grand-pa,” said Ned. Mr. Clark knew how into reading and writing Ned really was. It was Ned’s “art-hobby,” kept him out of trouble from time to time.
Ned and Mr. Clark exchanged a few preliminary pieces to get the game going; Ned tried to set up a flanking sneak attack with a bishop, a pawn, a horse, and a way-to-early-yet-still-very-powerful back-up queen. He did not know if his grandfather saw his efforts. He was also trying to pay good attention to any scheme Mr. Clark may have been working on.
“So what is so special about this writing assignment?” asked Ned’s grandfather. “I like the park, here. The story is set in a park. It is supposed to utilize three forms of voice: 1st, 2nd, and 3rd person.” “The story is supposed to have three people?” asked his grandfather. “No sir,” said Ned. Ned knew not to get frustrated with others. He had trouble, sometimes, explaining what was on his mind. Ned said,
“What the assignment has to do with is voice. As the author, if I describe a story with characters, setting, and dialogue, I usually use 3rd person omniscient. The author of a 3rd person story can know everything; it is the easiest method for myself and many others. If I write the story directed to you, say, in the form of a letter, I think that would be the more rare 2nd person. 2nd person voice utilizes the word ‘you’ to start sentences instead of ‘I’. 2nd person is used for childrens’ songs and hip-hop music, sometimes. If I tell the story with a character and it is a narrative of with the character’s own descriptions, that is 1st person. For the assignment, we use all three techniques and a park.”
“What are your ideas, so far?” asked Mr. Clark. “Well, I am thinking I may do a small story about a little girl who chases her ball into a busy street, only to be saved by a passing blind man,” said Ned. “How about this…” said Mr. Clark,
“The two crows up on that branch over there have been watching the shiny green beetle organizing tiny mud balls under that orange maple leaf for some time, now. Each bird sees the beetle. Those are the blackbirds with the shining blue and yellow spots on their wings – maybe they can talk, maybe they cannot, according to humans. Those are known as “Blue Minas”- common, yet wild. They can probably communicate, somehow, telling each other in their minds what they may or may not do to the tasty metallic object working below. The beetle either knows or does not know about the two hungry birds up on the branch. He cannot decide for his future, much. If he was to scurry off, the minas would be forced to pursue him. They watch and decide; the beetle may be a piece of art to them. If I were to say ‘Do things to that beetle,’ the minas would swoop down and attack the beetle, leaving him different than he was before… Do things to that beetle!”
The two beautiful mina birds with yellow and blue spots on their wings dove seven feet from their branch to the beetle. “I got him,” said one, while placing its foot on top of the shining green beetle, gently, “You do your thing and I will do mine.” “I have never been through more,” thought the beetle. The silent mina took a good look and aim towards the beetle, pecked a large hole in the creature removing half of his torso. The grasping mina removed a beetle leg with his beak and ate it. The birds flew away. The beetle crawled off to a safer, more hidden area.
Ned saw all of those things happen. He was not paying too much attention to the chess game. He saw a opportunity to put stress on Mr. Clark’s king with a rook/castle. Ned moved the rook, and Mr. Clark moved his queen to protect an attacking bishop. “Checkmate,” said Mr. Clark. He won this time. “What do you think about all of that?” asked Mr. Clark. “Good game,” said Ned, shaking his grandfather’s hand. I could certainly use “The Attack of the Minas” as a story, especially since both birds and the beetle can talk and think. That was crazy seeing those birds attack that beetle.” “Your mother is pulling up,” said Mr. Clark. “See you next week,” said Ned, giving his grandfather a hug, “I love you bunches!”
Mr. Clark put away the chess set. Ned left with his mother. The metallic green beetle lived for two years.
♦
An Artifact
“This class blows,” said Henry. “Everything blows according to you – blondes blow but you do not dislike them, do you?” replied Ron. “No, I do not dislike blondes,” admitted Henry. He was the more intelligent of the two; Ron thought he had to try to know. He was forced to put forth at least a minimal amount of effort, where Henry sometimes did not even begin to need to. Henry, at times, took his various gifts of intelligence for granted. It was no big deal; it was his way of knowing more with less stress.
The class they happened to be early for was an Archaeology class. It was two weeks before spring break on a Friday; their instructor was from India. His hobby was training for half marathons. The professor arrived (finally), and all entered the class room. Professor Rauckbon said:
“For these few weeks I have been giving you various assignments on research and study. We have been the travelers of a digging study program, found small items for documentation and study. I am thinking today will be a more fun and a less arduous approach. I am thinking… today is movie day. It is a day for showing and telling, a surprise fun and easy day for us all. Why did you not know about this showing and telling? Because I am the one doing the showing, as well as the one doing the telling. So sit back and enjoy what we can do with one of our school’s newest projector mechanisms.”
The professor happily turned the lights off with a remote and operated the projector with yet another remote. He was originally born in India and spoke over seven languages. His video was an impressive collection of films documenting historical sites in India, both famous and rare. He displayed archaeological sites rarely mentioned to mainstream media, including a secret grave site for old religious leaders from thousands of years ago. His interesting story involved a handcrafted artifact.
The artifact was a sacred object of very old Indian religion. During those times, in that specific region, religion and the afterlife involved mostly the respect of items considered to be holy or magical. Only a blessed item could be used to cause intentional re-incarnation. Before known documented history, the region went to war with a neighboring community. An approximate two to three thousand men on each opposing side engaged in a bloody war. The death toll of the war numbered in the thousands. The sole leader of the region containing the burial site was said to have used the artifact in war to take the life of multiple enemies in one current situation, while reviving his deadliest war heroes.
What made the story interesting to the professor was the idea of modern progress and the notion of the artifact’s “new” location. A very large house of worship had been constructed during modern times; it contained a secret underground structure with catacombs, tombs, and protected structures for hiding national items sacred for historical or religious reasons or both. Common thieves had robbed the grave site in modern times; the government of India recovered these items and hid them under the more secure modern temple. Due to economic expansion, a large skyscraper was built on top of the old burial site.
Hard to explain for the professor, he related that, Geologically, the site was an excellent place for the eighty story building because of the prehistoric bedrock below it. A highly secret, rare organization could still, in theory, access the actual grave site of the war heroes of long ago beneath the skyscraper. The office building was an approximate 400 yards in perimeter before including any surrounding structures. It was very big.
The professor went into detail in regards to the magically religious artifact. It was a small white monkey, hand carved and polished from the tusk of a ceremoniously fattened elephant’s tusk. It was clothed in melted and cooled 24-carrot decorative gold. The artifact’s brow sported an uncut diamond; its eyes were identical rubies. The rubies were said to glow in various ways, showing powers, dangers, and or actions performed through the item. It was a surprise to the professor that the artifact was used in a war over territory. He thought the war would have been over the magical artifact, instead. It was said to have gained its eternal powers via a dark Indian priest – he died too give the precious little monkey its magical powers.
By this time, 80% of the class had fallen asleep, completely. Ron and Henry were both paying attention, intently, however. They would be sure to discuss the knew knowledge of an old Indian artifact after class. They were not the only students paying attention. Two students in the back row wrote down the names of certain cities; they exchanged looks. These two guys were not up to anything phenomenaly wonderful, that was for sure.
The class adjourned. “Those guys were up to something,” said Henry. “Of course they were,” said Ron, “What on Earth could it have been?” “They want that artifact,” said Henry. “I doubt they can get it,” said Ron, “It would be well worth their time, in this lifetime, to try, though. The item would have to be of great worth. I would guess that there is the chance that it is actually spiritually enhanced or magical.” “It would not surprise me,” said Henry, thinking. “What is on your mind?” asked Ron. “Spring break,” said Henry, “I bet if they try to go to India, it will be then.” “India?” asked Ron. “They are after that monkey,” said Henry, “I am sure of it.”
Days went by and Henry and Ron continued to do well in school. The artifact was on their minds; they saw and overheard the two other Archaeology students planning their spring break trip to go to India in the front study area of their school’s largest library. The two students planning had no suspicion of Ron and Henry’s thought. Ron and Henry followed the two other students to a travel agency that evening; they purchased tickets to fly to India as the other two students had.
“Mexico…” said Henry. “I agree,” said Ron, “India will be much more fun than a repeat trip to the infamous Cancun. I cannot wait. I am bringing my new digital camera for picture taking. I cannot wait to see what my fellow bloggers post in consideration of my attempts with the photography of distant lands.” Ron and Henry would fly on the same airplane, land in a big city in India, stay in the most inexpensive resort hotel there, and track/follow the two students attempting to partake in crime. That was their plan.
Ron and Henry thought their plan to be a long-shot. The other two classmates were definitely going to try to take the artifact. Whether they could even acquire it was more than half of the problem, the rest was stopping them or helping authorities in India catch the terrible college students during spring break.
Many things went as planned. The two questionable young men flew to India. So did Ron and Henry, with information on the other two students from the travel agency. All four rested through one night, Ron and Henry woke up before dawn to see a mind blowing sunrise. They found and followed the other two. The two questionable individuals had attained secret information on the modern religious structure. They assaulted and bound two guards, entered a door with an electronic key/pass-card. Once in the catacombs, the two had a small amount of time to find the stone storage structure which contained the ivory monkey.
The two bad-guys had attained a map; they found a large stone box. They used a nearby pry-tool to open the box; it contained a few skulls of old war heroes, some ancient religious texts, some old jewelry, and an artifact or two. One of these small items was a little bottle used to preserve a dead-person’s blood sample for religious reasons. This item frightened one of the thieves, the other one shook him by the shoulder so they could get the monkey and go. The scared one took the monkey and put it in his small backpack; they ran to escape.
It would not be easy for the two criminals to escape. They did so, however. They were chased by government officials and religious leaders. They made it to a popular part of the large city and were somewhat safe from the authorities there. They did not escape Ron and Henry, though. The criminals went to a large shopping mall to safely plan a nonchalant route back to their hotel. They planned to fly back to the states and sell the artifact for as much as possible.
Ron and Henry found the two in the shopping mall. The mall was near the criminals’ hotel. Henry snuck up behind the student with the backpack and opened it. Ron reached in and grabbed the monkey; they walked away. The criminals noticed the open backpack. Where was the artifact? They did not know. The criminals were in shambles, and they were surrounded by authorities and arrested on counts of violence and improper entry. No one knew where the artifact was other than Henry and Ron.
The two intelligible college students considered themselves to be the good guys. They flew back to the states with the spiritual item; they would know what was best for the artifact. Ron and Henry got the item back to the states safely. They gazed upon it in Henry’s living room. He split his rent with four other students. His housemates thought the monkey was cool; Henry kept it on a mantle.
Summer came and Henry’s housemates had all gone back to where they were from for work-related purposes. Ron, like Henry, stayed in college over the summer to take more courses. They had time in the evenings for study. One night, the artifact came up in conversation. “It has been sitting on your mantle there for weeks like a 5$ dust collector,” said Ron. “I have not thought much about it,” said Henry, looking at the monkey. Its gold was impressive; its eyes were mysterious. Henry stood and beheld the artifact. He sat it on a small table in the center of the room.
Ron gazed upon the item, as did Henry. “I think we can talk with it,” said Ron. “How?” asked Henry. “I will try a way,” said Ron. He gently pet the top of the ivory artifact’s head, and its eyes began to glow. Henry and Ron both immediately sat back in their seat on a sofa. They were not too scared. The two students were rather curious instead. A spirit floated up out of the monkey. It was a female elephant. “Who are you?” asked the elephant. Henry was speechless. Ron never really knew what he was talking about, anyway. He said, “I am Ron, and this is Henry. We are amazed with your history – we know little about you.” The nice elephant blushed, slightly, and said, “I have helped many a man in war. I have helped many a woman in love. My powers are rare and desired. I can fulfill untold desires.” Henry still did not really think he was experiencing anything real.
“We are more interested in what you want,” said Ron after thinking hard and fast with his attention focused on the female elephant spirit. He figured she would disappear if he lost concentration. It had happened before with other spiritual conversations. “If you must know,” replied the elephant, “I want to return to my original tomb. I was there to protect an old warrior from spiritual malevolency. I want to go there until certain resolutions from this side are resolved permanently.” “Then what will you do?” asked Ron. Henry was still gazing upon the elephant in awe. “I am not so sure,” said the elephant, “I am not very selfish, resolutions of these sorts can take a great deal of time. At least we have made progress over there.”
“Amazing,” said Henry. “You talk after all,” said the elephant, “Thank you for protecting me.” She was beginning to return to the monkey. “Wait!” said Ron, “What is your name?” “Imalia,” whispered the elephant, and she faded away.
“Well that does it,” said Ron, “We have to bring that back to the site under the big skyscraper.” “Maybe I should just keep it,” said Henry. “For what?” asked Ron, “The terrible war you have to wake up for in the morning? Cannot quite re-incarnate your soldiers without a bashful elephant spirit?” Henry was trying not to laugh. “What is so funny?” asked Ron. “Nice belt” said Henry, “Was that on sale?” Ron looked down to find that he had put on his girlfriend’s belt by accident, earlier. It was pink with little sparkling plastic gym-stones. “Very funny,” said Ron, “Mine now, ha ha.”
“We do not have the money to go to India, again,” said Henry, we already had to borrow to get there the first time.” “What if we borrow again?” suggested Ron, “When we graduate, we can borrow even more. We will call it ‘Grad School’.” “Very funny,” said Henry. “I guess we can figure something out,” said Henry, “We will have to formulate a plan for a trip before fall classes begin. Well will bring this magical elephant-monkey back to where it wants to be. We will visit a prehistoric tomb.” “Awesome,” said Ron, “I cannot wait to take more photos for blogging.”
The two planned it all out and made the trip to the giant skyscraper. It was their turn, this time, to have to bound a guard. They put a t-shirt over his head to keep him from being able to see them. They returned the artifact to its proper location and escaped unscathed. Once back in the United States, they finished their graduate studies and went to work for large corporate entities. Ron saved a photo of the artifact being placed beside the old warrior’s bones in India, showed the photo to his old Archaeology professor with a self deleting file. The professor was amazed. He could only guess as to whether the photo was actually what it highly resembled.
A Sitter Named Irene
One time, there was a baby-sitter named Irene. She was also a substitute teacher; Irene lived alone. Once or twice a month, Irene went and babysat a young girl named Leah. Leah was a handful of fun; Leah was hyperactive. Irene was fun, too; she at times saw Leah as possibly the hardest child to keep out of the rest of the children she babysat.
Leah’s parents kept her spoiled in a ten bedroom house with many large rooms. The young girl knew every small facet of her domain, ran fast like a mouse to get away. Leah did not tire; she was allowed as many deserts as she wanted. Her parents kept a philosophy of giving, especially to their only little girl. Because Irene was paid well, it was easy for her not to get too jealous of Leah. This would be a night to remember.
Irene was 24, had light brunette hair. She made it to the large house in her 4-cylinder car on time; Leah’s parents departed. Leah, being in the second grade, had homework. Irene asked Leah politely to finish her school work, so she could tell Leah’s parents that she was well-behaved that evening. To Irene’s surprise, Leah promised to do all of her homework for a slice of lemon meringue pie. The two sat together and Irene helped Leah learn a great deal. The two went over the school work; mostly Math and English, their final work was without flaw.
“So,” asked Leah as she was eating her snack, “An adverb describes the action of a verb?” “That is correct,” said Irene, “What are your plans once you finish your pie? Your bedtime is not for a few hours.” Irene was full of surprises. “I do not know what I want to do,” said Leah, “I might watch a movie, however I am not very interested.” “What about your doll house?” asked Irene. “I got a new one,” said Leah. “Really?” asked Irene. “I did not want it,” said Leah, “I thought ‘they’ wanted to get it for me, though, so I begged for it.”
Irene was running out of ideas, getting closer to finding a new project to work on in the world of art. Irene waited for Leah to finish her pie. The babysitter was not hungry at the time. “Have you ever played ’20 Questions’?” asked Irene. “What kind of a game is that?” asked Leah, “Are you going to make me do chores?” “No,” said Irene, “I try to be a fun person, remember?” “I have seen you upset before, and I got in trouble,” said Leah, honestly. She was trying to think of something fun to do.
“I am sorry about that,” said Irene. “How do you play the game?” asked Leah. “You pick a person, place, or thing, and I have 20 attempts to guess what it is,” said Irene. “I am thinking of a place,” said Leah. “Have you ever played this game before?” asked Irene. “Do you think I am a liar?” asked Leah. Irene decided to try to play along. “Is the place on this continent?” asked Irene. “Yes,” said Leah. “Is it London?” asked Irene; she wanted to test Leah’s honesty. “London is in Europe,” said Leah, “The place is in the United States.”
“Is the place closer to the Atlantic or the Pacific Ocean?” asked Irene. “Atlantic,” said Leah, “In fact, it is kind-of in the ocean. It is also kind of a thing.” “Is it a nuclear submarine?” “No, silly,” said Leah giggling. “Is it a kind of business or government building?” asked Irene. “Not really,” said Leah, “People go to see it, though. It is like a symbol of freedom for our nation.” “Is it a monument?” asked Irene. “I do not think so,” said Leah thinking, “But I thought you were about to guess it. It is a sculpture.” “The Statue of Liberty?” asked Irene. “That is right,” said Leah.
The two played the game all afternoon without even turning on the television. Irene tucked in Leah after she bathed and said her bedtime prayers with her. Leah was asleep before her parents’ return. Leah was finding maturity, and Irene looked forward to seeing the young girl grow up to be a nice person. They all lived happily ever after.
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